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  SPURGEONS SERMONS VOLUME 62 1916
  by C.H. Spurgeon
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Volume 62 of Spurgeon's collected sermons, a posthumous publication from 1916
containing messages prepared by the 'Prince of Preachers' and published after
his death in 1892. These sermons continue to display his characteristic biblical
exposition, vivid illustrations, and passionate gospel proclamation.

  Chapters: 25

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS
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    0. Spurgeons Sermons Volume 62 1916
    1. Daily Blessings for God's People
    2. Divine Destruction and Protection
    3. The Judgment Upon Zacharias
    4. Our Glorious Transforming
    5. A Solemn Embassy
    6. God's Gentle Power
    7. The Bliss of the Glorified
    8. Two Coverings and Two Consequences
    9. The Feast of the Lord
   10. Powerful Persuasives
   11. Joy in Salvation
   12. Following Christ
   13. A Miracle of Grace
   14. What Self Deserves
   15. Our Lord's Solemn Enquiry
   16. Light at Evening Time
   17. Coming to Christ
   18. The Fainting Soul Revived
   19. The Battle of Life
   20. Are You Mocked?
   21. Christ's Marvellous Giving
   22. A Prospect of Revival
   23. The Fruits of Grace
   24. The Sum and Substance of All Theology

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  CHAPTER 0: SPURGEONS SERMONS VOLUME 62 1916
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  CHAPTER 1: DAILY BLESSINGS FOR GOD'S PEOPLE
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A Sermon (No.3493) Published on Thursday, January 6th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [1]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington On Thursday Evening, 21st
September , 1871. "Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even
the God of our salvation. He that is our God is the God of salvation, and unto
God the Lord belong the issues from death." -- Psalm 68:19-20. WE observe that
this Psalm is a very difficult one. One of the ablest commentators calls it a
titanic Psalm. It is truly a giant Psalm, and to master it means much labour.
Yet it is by no means difficult to understand when it comet to practical duties,
and to those doctrines which are vital. For instance, the two verses before us
are very simple and do not need any explanation, but only need to be impressed
upon our memory. So is it always throughout Holy Scripture; wherever there are
difficult places, they do not touch vital truths. The matter of our salvation is
plain enough. The Book of Revelation may be difficult, but not the Gospel
according to Matthew. With regard to the future, there may be many clouds, but
with regard to that blessed day which is past, which was the crisis of the
world's history, when our Saviour hung upon the tree, the darkness is past, and
the true light shineth there. Don't, therefore, busy yourselves most about those
things which are most difficult, for they are usually of least importance.
Concern your heart most with the simplicities of the gospel, for it is there, in
the way, the truth, and the life, that the essential matter lies. Let us come to
these two verses, and remark that they remind us first of the mercies of life.
"Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits." They then assure us
of the mercies of death. "He that is our God is the God of our salvation, and
unto God belong the issues from death." And then the two verses tell us of the
common occupation of both life and death, namely, the blessing of God, whose
mercy continues to us in both states. Blessed be Jehovah, whether I receive the
daily load of his benefits, or whether he open for me the gates of the grace.
Let us begin then, and contemplate for a few moments: -- I. THE MERCIES OF OUR
LIFE.The text saith, "He daily loadeth us with benefits." Let us keep to the
English version just now. Take the words of it. What is it that he gives us --
Benefits. We have a very beautiful word in the English language -- benevolence.
You know that means good wishing, bene volens. He may be a benevolent man who is
not able to do any act of kindness, to give any of his substance away for lack
of any. But God's goodness to us is not merely bene volens, in which he wishes
us well, but it is beneficence or good doing. His gifts and benefits are deeds
of goodness, acts of goodness. He doth to us that which is good. He doth not
only wish us well, and speak to us well, and direct us well, but he doeth well
unto us. He doth not only say, "I pity thy last estate," but he delivers the
lost out of their ruin. He doth not say, as the churl doth, "Be thou warmed, and
be thou filled," and do no more, but, wishing us well, he doth well unto us; he
warms cur hearts with his love, and fills them with his mercy, and sends us on
our way rejoicing. It is true God speaks us well. What more could he say than,
to us, he has said in his blessed Word? It is true he wishes us well. "As I
live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but had
rather that he turn unto me and live." But the essence of his goodness lies in
this, that he goes beyond wishes and words into acts.Begin, brethren, with the
greatest of his acts. "He spared not his own Son, but freely delivered him up
for us all." In that gift he bath already given us all things, and from that
blessed pledge he has never gone back, but he has given us all that we want for
this life, and for the life to come, for ye have grace and glory, and hath
abounded in each. The upper springs fail not, neither do the nether springs. If
Christ is our perpetual bread and wine, so, too, our common bread, in answer to
our prayer, is given us according to his assurance, "Thy bread shall be given
thee, and thy water shall be sure." Will you try to think of the benefits which
you have received, dear brother, dear sister? Turn them over now in your mind --
the benefits that you have actually yourself received -- not only read of, and
heard of, and had promises of, but that you have received. Oh! the benefits of
early education! the being restrained from, sin. Oh! the benefits of conviction!
of being enlightened and made to see the guilt off sin. Oh! the sweet benefit of
being led to the Saviour! made to stand at the cross foot, where the blood
speaks better things than that of Abel. Oh! the benefit of perfect pardon and of
righteousness, which covers us and justifies in the sight of God! What an
unspeakable benefit is regeneration! Who shall prize the benefit of adoption?
Who is he that shall describe the benefit of daily education in the things of
God -- of preservation from falling into final, vital sin -- of sanctification
carried on from day to day? We have benefits that we know of, but we probably
have ten times as many that we know not of. Some of them come in at the front
door of the house; some of the richest of them seem to steal in at the back
door. They are among the most precious bounties that fly in with so soft a wing
that we hear them not when they come. Ye shall sooner count the hairs on your
head, or the dust upon the sand beach, than you shall be able to estimate the
number of his benefits.Leave that word then, and note the next. It is said in
the text concerning God's benefits, that he loads us with them -- loads us with
benefits. He does not put a little upon us of his goodness, but much; very much,
until it becomes a load. Have you never known what it is to be bowed right down
with such goodness? I have, I freely confess it -- I have desired to praise him,
but a sense of love so bowed me down that I could only adopt the language of the
psalmist and say, "Praise is silent for thee, O God, in Zion." It seemed as if
"words were but air, and tongues but clay, and his compassion's so divine," that
it was impossible to speak of them. His mercies, as our hymn said just now, come
as think and as fast as the moments do. In fact, it is literally so. Every
moment needs heavings of the lungs, pulsings of the blood. The slightest
circumstance might prevent one or the other. God's continued benefits come to us
even in the simple form of preserved life. We are constantly exposed to peril.
"Plagues and death around us fly."God preserves us from perils to the body. Our
thoughts -- whither might they go? They might in a moment lead us into heresies
and foul blasphemies. It is no little thing to be preserved from that spiritual
pestilence that walketh both in darkness and the noonday. Glory be to God, who
sends us temporal and spiritual benefits so numerous, and each one so weighty,
that eye cannot say less than this, "That he daily loadeth us with his benefits,
until we seem bowed down to the earth under a joyful sense of obligation to his
mercy." "He loadeth us with benefits."Oh! are any of you inclined to murmur? Do
you think God deals hard with you? Well, you are what you are by his grace.
Though you are not what you wish to be, yet remember you are not what, if strict
justice were carried out, you would be. In the poor-house you might be -- few
admire that residence. In the prison you might be -- God preserves you from the
sin that would bring you there. In the lunatic asylum you might be -- better men
and women than you are have come to that. At the grave's mouth you might be --
on the sick bed, on the verge of eternity. God's holiest saints have not been
spared from the grave. In hell you might be -- amongst the lost, wailing, but
hopelessly wailing, gnashing your teeth in utter despair. O God, when we think
of what we are not, because thy grace has kept us from it, we cannot but say,
"Thou hast loaded us with benefits." But then think of what you are, you
Christians. You are God's children; you are joint-heirs with Christ. "All things
are yours"; ay, and "things to come," you have guaranteed too -- preservation to
the end, and you have, after the end of this life, glory without end. The "many
mansions" are for you; the palms and harps of the glorified are for you. You
have a share in all that Christ has, and is, and shall be. In all the gifts of
his ascension you have a part; in the gifts that come to us through his session
at the right hand of God, you have your share; and in, the glories of the Second
Advent, the grand hope of the Church of God, you shall partake. See how, in the
present, and in the past, and in the future, he loadeth you with benefits. There
are two great words already.But the next word is equally large. "Blessed be the
Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits." A poor man shall call at your door,
and you shall give to him all he wants for food, and cover him, and give him
something to make glad his heart withal. If you do it once, you reckon that you
have done well. Supposing he should call again to-morrow, you might find it in
your heart to do the same. But suppose he called upon you seven days in the
week: I am afraid that by degrees that would become seven times too often, for
we count, when we have done men a good turn, that someone else should see to
them next time. If we load them especially with benefits, we say, "Don't
encroach; don't ride a willing horse too fast. You must not come again so often.
You weary me." Ah! this is man; but look at God. He daily loadeth us with
benefits. How many days has he done that with some of us? Thirty years? "Ah!"
saith one, "I can talk of sixty years" -- yes, and some of you of seventy and
eighty years. Well, he has loaded you with benefits every day. You have never
been above the rank of a pauper, so far as your God is concerned. But I will put
it differently. You have been a gentleman commoner upon the goodness of God all
your life. It has been your lot, like that of Mephibosheth, to sit daily at the
King's table and give a portion from him. And yet you murmur. You have been
unbelieving, proud, idle; all sorts of ill-tempers have you shown. Yet has he
daily loaded you with benefits. It has sometimes seemed to be a wrestling
between our sin and God's love, but up to this hour his love has conquered. We
have drawn mightily upon his exchequer, but that exchequer has never been
exhausted. The load of mercy which was used yesterday won't do for to-day. Like
manna, it must come fresh and fresh, and the blessing is that it does come fresh
and fresh. When God draws the curtain and stands in the sunlight, mercy streams
in on the sunbeam; and when he shuts the eyelids of the day and the evening
comes, it is mercy that puts its finger upon our eyelids and bids us rest. He
"daily loadeth us with benefits" -- every day; and he loads us with benefits not
only on bright days, but on dark days. When we are sick, and tossing to and for
upon the bed, he still is loading us with benefits, only in another form. He
sends sometimes his choicest mercies to us in black-edged envelopes. The very
brightest gems of heaven come to us, and we know them not. They sparkle not
until faith's eye has seen them. Nature has not perceived their excellence. How
he loadeth us with benefits on Sabbath days! There is a dear brother who is
almost always here, who, when he sees me on Sunday mornings, generally makes use
of some such exclamation as this, "Every day is good to me, but the Sabbath day
is seven good days in one. It is blest seven times over." And, indeed, it so is.
He loadeth us with benefits on the Sabbath. But then we have our Monday mercies
and our Tuesday mercies too; and right on to the close on Saturday night the
Lord continues to heap on his mercies one after another, that he may make us
feel that we shall sooner weary with thanking him than he will weary in giving
us cause for thankfulness.There is one other word -- a very little one, but a
sweet one too: "Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits." "Us."
Personal matters bring sweetness to our soul, and herein lieth the wonder. That
God should load David with benefits was marvellous to David, but not to me. The
marvel to me is that he should load me with benefits. Beloved brethren and
sisters, I do not feel your imperfections, and, therefore, I do not so much
perceive the sovereignty of God in dealing graciously with you, but I know some
of my own shortcomings, and they seem to me to be greater than those of others;
therefore, do I with gratitude admire the abounding mercy of God that he should
load me with benefits."Why do I meet to hear his voice,And enter where there's
room;While thousands make a wretched choice,And rather starve than come?"There
may be some whose consciences will allow them to think that their praying made
the distinction. I am not able to believe that, but I am compelled to feel that,
if I enjoy the things of Christ that others do not, it is of the Lord's mercy,
and not of any goodness in me, but entirely of his infinite grace. Let us bless
the Lord at this hour because he loadeth us with benefits when he might have
passed us by. He might have suffered us to go on heaping up our transgressions
until the measure thereof had been filled, and then he might have made us reap
for ever that which we had sown. Instead of this, he has made us -- many of us
-- however unlikely persons -- to be his chosen ones, and he hath loaded us with
benefits. I have spoken very simply entirely with the view that those hearts
that have tasted that the Lord is gracious may now wake up all their powers to
praise and bless the name of the Most High. We must not pass away from this,
however, without observing that our translation is not literal -- indeed, is not
the meaning of the passage. Those of you who will look at your Bibles will
perceive that the words "who" and "with benefits", are put in it italics to show
that they are not in the Hebrew, but have been supplied by the translators, as
they thought them necessary to the sense; and some of the best interpreters say
that the passage means this, "Blessed be the Lord, who daily beareth our
burdens"; and I have little doubt that that is the correct translation. It is
not so much that he loads us, as that he lifts our load for us, and bears it for
us. Well, at any rate, that is a sweet rendering, "He daily bears our burden";
and it is a rendering which is a word of rebuke to some of you. Did you not come
into this tabernacle tonight with your burdens on your back? Well, it was wrong
you should ever have them. "Cast all your care on him, for he careth for you." A
man who has a burden-bearer certainly need not bear the burden himself. Faith is
never burdened, because she knows where to lay her burden. She hath a burden,
but she puts it on the Almighty God. But unbelief, with a far less load than
faith carries easily, is bowed down to the dust. Arise, O child of God, whatever
thy burden is, and by an act of faith cast it upon God. You have done your
little all; leave it now. Your fretfulness will not alter things. You cannot
change he night, nor make one hair white or black. Why fret and worry? The world
went on very well before you were born; it will when you are dead. Leave the
helm. Whenever you have been foremast you made a mistake. He that carves for
himself will cut his fingers; but when God has been foremost, and you have been
content to follow, you have never had any mistake then; and when God has been
your shepherd, you have been constrained to say, "I shall not want." Oh! then,
have done with burden-bearing, and take up the language of the text, "Blessed be
the Lord, who daily bears our burdens."And then the text adds that he is "the
God of our salvation." In this life we ought to praise him. His daily mercies
are all sweetened with this reflection -- that we are saved souls. Our morsel
may be dry, but we dip it in this dainty sauce of his salvation. It is true I am
poor, but I am saved. It is true I am sick, but I am saved. It is true I am
obscure and unknown, but I am saved; and the salvation of God sweetens all. Then
is it added to that, it is "our" salvation. He that can grasp the salvation
which is in Christ and say, "This is mine," is rich to all the intents of bliss,
and has his daily life gilded with joy.And then it is added beyond that, "our
God." God is ours. He that is our God is the God of salvation. His omnipotence
and omniscience, his immutability and his faithfulness -- all his attributes are
ours. The Father is ours; the Son is ours; the Spirit is ours. The God of
election is ours; the God of redemption is ours; the God of sanctification is
ours. Oh! with all this, how can we be cast down? Why should we repine! We have
certainly abounding cause for blessing and praising the Lord. Those are the
mercies If life. And now for a few minutes let us contemplate: -- II. THE
MERCIES OF DEATH."Unto God belong the issues from death." This may mean several
things. We will include its meanings under these heads. Unto God belong escapes
from death. Oh! blessed be his name, we may come very near the grave, and the
jaws of death may be open to receive us; but the pit cannot shut her mouth upon
us until our hour is come."Plagues of death around me fly.Till he please, I
cannot die.Not a single shaft can hit,Until the God of love see fit."What though
a thousand at thy side,At thy right hand ten thousand, died?Our God, his chosen
people saves,Amongst the dead, amidst the graves."Whatever occurs around us, we
need not be alarmed. We are immortal until our work is done. And amidst
infectious or contagious diseases, if we are called to go there, we may sit as
easily as though in balmy air. It is not ours to preserve our life by neglecting
our duty. It is better to die in service than live in idleness -- better to
glorify God and depart, than rot above ground in neglecting what he would have
us to do. Unto God belong the issues from death. We may, therefore, go without
temerity into any danger where duty calls us.But then unto God belong the issues
that lead actually down to death. It may be we shall not die. There are some who
are comforted much by the belief that Christ will come, and they shall not die.
I do not profess to be among the number. I would as soon die as not, and rather,
I think, if I might have my choice, for herein would be a greater conformity to
the sufferings of Christ, in actually passing through the grave and rising
again, than will fall to the lot of those who do not die. At all events, those
who die not shall have no preference beyond them that sleep. So the Apostle
tells us. "To" die is "gain"; and we will look upon it as such. But whenever we
die, if we die, it will be at God's bidding. No one hath the key of death but
the Lord of life. A thousand angels could not hurl us to the grave. All the
devils in hell cannot destroy the least lamb in Christ's flock. Till God saith
"Return," our spirit shall not leave the body; and we may be well content to
depart when God saith the time is come. Oh! how blessed it is to think that the
arrows of death are in the quiver of God, and they cannot be shot forth unless
as the Lord wills it! Unto the Lord belong the issues from death. Think of this,
then, about your departed friends The Master took them home. Think about your
own departure. It is not to be arranged by your folly, not by the malice of the
wicked. It will all be planned and designed by the infinite love of God.But the
text may mean something more. Unto God belong the issues from death; that is,
the coming up from death again. We place the bodies of the saints in the
territory of death, but they are only put there, as it were, because there is a
lien upon them for a time. They must come out. They must be delivered. for his
word says, if we believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead, "so also them
that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." There shall not be a bone or a
piece of a bone of one of the saints kept by the enemy as a trophy of his
conquest over the Saviour. Christ shall vanquish death entirely, and from the
sepulchre he shall snatch all the trophies of the grave. We shall rise again,
beloved. What though our bodies rot? What though they feed plants, and in due
time feed animals, and pass through innumerable permutations and combinations?
Yet he that made us can re-make us; and the voice that bade us live shall bid
these bodies live again. "Unto God belong the issues from death." In this we are
comforted -- to fall asleep, because the angel of the churches shall guard our
dust.And then this further thought. The issues from death grasp all that comes
after death. The spirit issues from death -- never touched by it indeed. Leaving
the body behind a while, the spirit enters into a glory, waiting for the
fulness. Then when Christ descends, and the trumpet sounds, and the dead in
Christ rise in the first resurrection, then shall the re-united manhood enter
into the fulness of the glory with a manifested Saviour. These issues from death
belong to God, and God secures them to his people. He shall give them to them
for whom he has appointed them. He shall give them to those whom he has made
worthy by his grace to be partakers of this heritage. They belong to him -- not
to us by merit, but they are his gifts by covenant and by grace. Oh! then, how
sweet it is to think, "The path down to the grave, my God has planted it. It is
all his -- all his own; and when my turn shall come to go into that garden
wherein is the sepulchre, I shall be in my Father's territory." Jesus Christ is
Lord of the sick-bed. He makes the bed of his people in their affliction. Even
down to the borders of the grave -- to the edge of Jordan's river -- it is all
Immanuel's land; and he often makes it the land of Beulah. And then, when I dip
my foot in that chill stream, it is still my Master's country. I am not out of
the presence of the Lord of life now I am coming to the land of death-shade and
through the river, but it is the Master's river still, and, on the other side,
it is my Lord's own land. When the shining ones shall meet me to conduct me up
to the jewelled "city that hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God," I
shall be always at home, always in my Father's country, never an exile, never
come upon a tract of territory over which he hath no power. "Though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for he is with
me. His rod and his staff, even there have they sway, and they shall comfort
me." Be of good cheer, beloved. "Goodness and mercy shall follow you all the
days of your life," and, life being ended, you shall "dwell in the house of your
God for ever." In life and in death, you shall prove the tokens of his special
love. And now we wind up with this. Here is: -- III. THE COMMON OCCUPATIONS OF
BOTH CONDITIONS."I will praise thee in lifeI will praise thee in deathI will
praise thee as longAs thou lendest me breath.""I will praise thee for ever and
ever." The one occupation of a Christian is to praise his God. Now, in order to
do this, we must maintain by God's grace a grateful, happy, praiseful frame of
mind; and we must endeavour to express that condition of mind by songs of
gratitude. This should be our morning's work. Should there not be the morning
song? This should be the evening's work. Let it be our vespers to bless and
praise God. Israel had the morning lamb and the evening lamb. Let us make both
ends of the day bright with his praise, and during the day. We are in a wrong
state of mind if we are not in a thankful state of mind. Depend upon it, there
is something wrong with you if you cannot praise God. "Oh!" says one, "what, in
trouble?" Yes, in every bitter trouble too, for Job could say, "The Lord gave,
and the Lord hath taken away, and blessed be the name of the Lord." "But are we
never to be sorrowful?" Yes, yet always rejoicing. How can that be? Ah! the Lord
teach you it! It is a work of grace. Cast down, but yet, for all that, rejoicing
in the Lord! He lifts up the light of his countenance upon us, even when heart
and flesh are failing us. I say again, there is something amiss with us when our
heart does not praise God. Do as much as you can also. When your heart is glad,
try to. praise him with your lip. Do you work alone? Sing. Perhaps, if you work
in company, you cannot; but sing with the heart. Men of the world, I am afraid,
sing more than we do. I do not admire the most of their songs. They do not seem
to have much sense about them -- at least the modern ones. But let us sing some
of the songs of Zion. You do not want to put your harps on the willows, but if
they are there, take them down and praise the Lord, who leadeth you with
benefits in life and in death. Therefore, habitually praise him. And, brethren
and sisters, all our actions, as well as our thoughts and words, should tend to,
the praise of him who always blesses us. You may stop praising God when he stops
having mercy upon you -- not till then; and as there is always a new mercy
coming to your doors let new praise be going up out of your hearts." But how can
I praise God by my actions? saith one. "Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus,
giving thanks unto God and the Father by him." I try to praise God by preaching
to-night. Some of you will go to your trades. Well, praise God at your trades.
Any work, any lawful calling may be to the Christian priest -- (and all
Christians are priests) -- the exercise of his sacred functions. You may make
your smock-frock, if you will, a vestment; you shall make your meal a sacrament;
you shall make everything in the house like the pots that were before the altar;
the bells upon the horses shall be "holiness unto the Lord." And, dear brethren,
to close. Let me remark that if we praise God ourselves by word and life, we
ought to try to bring others to praise him too. You do not praise God, indeed,
unless you want others to do so. It is a mark of sincere thankfulness that it
desires others to assist it in the expression of its joy. Blessed be the Lord,
this same Psalmist here, who says for himself, "Blessed he the Lord", is the
writer of the 67th Psalm. You know how he says there, "Let the people praise
thee -- yea, let all the people praise thee!Oh! let the nations be glad and sing
for joy!" Then he says again, "Let the people praise thee, O God; yea, let all
the people praise thee!" Do your utmost to be the means, in God's hands, of
bringing others to praise him. Tell them what he has done for you. Tell them of
his saving grace. Invite sinners to Christ. Let it be: -- "All your business
here belowTo say,"Behold the Lamb!"and in this way you will be setting other
tongues a-praising God, so that when your tongue is silent, there shall be
others that will take up the strain. Labour for this, beloved, every one of you.
Labour for the extension of the choir that shall sing the praises of the Saviour
I trust we shall never fall into that narrow-minded spirit which seems to say,
"It is enough for me if I am saved, and if those that go to my little place of
worship are all right. It is quite enough." No, Master, thy throne is not to be
set up in some little conventicle in a back street, and there alone. Thou are
not to reign in some little corner of a city, and there alone Thou art not to
take this island of Great Britain, and reign in it alone; nor in Europe -- in
one quarter of the earth alone. Let the whole earth be filled with his praise!
And what Christian heart will refuse to say, "Amen and amen"? God grant it may
be so! Amen.


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  CHAPTER 2: DIVINE DESTRUCTION AND PROTECTION
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A Sermon (No.3494) Published on Thursday, January 13th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [2]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "And all the trees of
the field shall know that I, Jehovah, have brought down the high tree, have
exalted the low tree, have dried up the green tree, and have made the dry tree
to flourish. I, Jehovah, have spoken and have done it." -- Ezekiel 17:29. CAN
your minds fly back to the time when there was no time, to the day when there
was no day but the Ancient of Days? Can you speed back to that period when God
dwelt alone, when this round world and all the things that be upon it, had not
come from his hand; when the sun flamed not in his strength, and the stars
flashed not in their brightness? Can you go back to the period when there were
no angels, when cherubim and seraphim had not been born; and, if there be
creatures elder than they, when none of them had as yet been formed? Is it
possible, I say, for you to fly so far back as to contemplate God alone -- no
creature no breath of song, no motion of wing -- God himself alone, without
another? Then, indeed, he had no rival; none then could contest with him, for
none existed. All power, and glory, and honour and majesty were gathered up into
Himself. And we have no reason to believe that he was less glorious than He is
now, when his ministers delight to do his pleasure; nor less great than now,
when he has crested worlds on worlds, and thrown them into space, scattering
over the sky stars with both his hands. He sat on no precarious throne; he
needed none to add to his power; he needed none to bring him a revenue of
praise; his all-sufficiency could spirit of no lack. Consider next, if ye can,
the eternal purpose of God that he would create. He determines it in his mind.
Could any but a divine motive actuate the Divine Architect? What must that
motive have been? He creates that he may display his own perfections. He does
beget, as it were, creatures after his own image that he may live in them; that
he may manifest to others the joy, the pleasure, the satisfaction, which he so
intensely feels in himself. Certain 1 am his own glory must have been the end he
had in view; he would reveal his glory to the sons of men, to angels, and to
such creatures as he had formed, in order that they might reflect his honour and
sing his praise. You are not ignorant, my brethren, of the fact that sin entered
into the world. You know that the creation, which had been harmonious as a psalm
in God's praise, voluminous and exhaustive as a book in which he revealed his
own character -- this creation, once exceedingly fair, became foully marred.
Rival instincts were produced, and rival Interests were set up. Man's will stood
up against God's will; mar's profit against God's honour; man's device against
God's counsel. Eve took of the accursed fruit, and Adam partook of the same, and
henceforth man became a rival to God, just as Satan, aforetime, had rebelled
against the blessed and only Potentate, and usurped authority. From the time
when Satan fell, God's purpose was to break down everything which set itself up
in opposition to him. From that day till now, no matter how great, how lofty,
how apparently excellent a thing might be, it has been the rule with God to pull
it down if it did not stand in him, and for him; yea, and wherever he has
looked, no matter how mean a thing may have been, how low, how degraded to
outward appearance, it has been God's constant rule to lift it up, if it stood
in him, and for him. Or if, by the lifting up of the humble, he might throw
scorn upon the haughty, he would thereby magnify his own absolute right to
exercise sovereign control, and to do with men as he willed. Oh! that I could
command the words of some of the mighty masters of song, or that I had an
angel's voice, so much rather would I hymn this high majestic theme than speak
of it in listless prose. But I cannot rise to the awful heights of this
incomparable design. I contemplate it with awe not unmingled with admiration --
the Eternal God withstanding everything that opposes itself against him --
thrusting down the mighty from their seats, plucking off crowns from the heads
of princes, degrading the escutcheons of nobles, trampling in the mire the fine
linen and the scarlet of the rich, setting at nought the wisdom of the wise,
divesting the philosopher of his toga, rending in pieces the robes of the
priest, end pouring contempt upon everything that vaunts pretension or arrogates
prestige in defiance of his sacred prescriptive, irrevocable lordship. There is
no power or permanence, no warrant or worth, in any claim to greatness or
goodness independent of God, or antagonistic to him. My conceptions are too
dwarfish, my language is too feeble, to compass the grandeur of this theme. It's
truth commends it, and its usefulness enhances it: since it bows the heart
before God. and convinces us that then only are we in a fit state to be filled
with his fulness, to live in his life, to be wise with his wisdom, and to be
glorious in his glory, when we are emptied of our own conceits. Mine, however,
will be a more practical lesson at this time; and I shall use more homely words
than that nobler subject might have demanded. METHINKs I see a great forest
which reaches for many a league. The trees are of divers growths, and of various
ages. Some of them are very lofty. Here a towering cedar and yonder the storks
have made their nests among the tall fir trees. Stout oaks there are that laugh
at storms, and elms that will not be twisted with the tempest. See how they
rival each other! And there are lowlier trees; some bearing fruit, though
scarcely seen; others, like the vine, creeping upon the ground -- so obscure
they can hardly be observed. It is a strange forest in which trees of every
clime are to be found; some green, verdant, lader with blossoms and with fruit;
others dead, dry, withered, with scarce here and there a leaf. It is the
evening, the cool of the day. The Lord God that visited the fair garden of Eden
is come to walk in this forest. Along those deep glades, amidst that thick
shade, the Almighty appears. He comes. How see I him? Bears he in his hand an
awful axe, and cloth he pass his finger along its edge to see that it be keen?
Strong is the arm that wields it. Howl, cedars, if once he life that axe against
you. What means that Woodman to do? Wait, and let us hear him speak. Oh! ye
trees of the field be silent before the Lord. Clap not your hands until we have
heard him speak. "The trees of the field shall know that I the Lord have brought
down the high tree -- beware, ye towering cedars! -- "that I have exalted the
low tree" -- take courage, ye lowly vines! -- "have dried up the green tree" --
wail, ye verdant elms -- "and have made the dry tree to flourish"; -- hope, ye
withered boughs! -- "I the Lord have spoken, and have done it." Let the trees be
silent before the Lord, for he cometh to judge them, and he judgeth them with
much jealousy. That forest I have before my eyes; men like trees appear to me in
the vision. While I gaze on this dense mass of people listening to my voice, let
me interpret the Mighty Woodman's words to you. There are four notes of which we
shall speak one after the other. May God sanctify the emblems to our profit,
touching our ears, and teaching our hearts, that we may rightly understand what
the Lord saith to the trees of the forest. I. "THUS SAITH THE LORD, THE TREES OF
THE FIELD SHALL KNOW THAT I THE LORD HAVE BROUGHT DOWN THE HIGH TREE." Look over
history, and you will see that everything gigantic in stature and colossal in
dimensions, whatsoever has been great to human apprehension, grasping at earthly
fame, has become an object for God's penetrating arrows, and a subject for his
withering blight. A grand idea of universal monarchy flashed upon the mind of
man. He would build a tower, the top whereof should reach to heaven. What did
the Lord do with this fine scheme? "I will come down," said "to Babel, and see
if it be altogether as they have said." Then he touched their tongues, and
confounded their language, and scattered the imaginations of their hearts: so he
laughed them to scorn, and left them to be a laughingstock to all generations.
Then came the great power of Egypt. Pharaoh said, "Am I not lord of Thebes, with
its hundred gates, and with its myriads of brazen chariots? Have I not a mighty
host of cavalry? Who is equal to me? I speak, and the nations tremble." When the
king hardened his heart, how did Jehovah -- the King of kings -- get himself
honour from Pharaoh and his hosts? "Thou didst blow with thy wind; the sea
covered them; they sank as lead in the mighty waters. Sing unto the Lord, for he
hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider bath he cast into the sea!"
In after years Babylon set herself up as a queen. "I shall be a lady for ever,"
said the gay metropolis of; the earth, the mighty city of Euphrates. "I sit
alone; I shall see no sorrow." Behold, she decketh herself out with scarlet, she
arrayeth herself with silk; all the nations of the earth are quiet when she
ariseth nor is the sound of a whisper heard when the voice of her command goes
forth. But where art thou, daughter of Assyria, where art thou now, O daughter
of Chaldea, where is the crown which once circled thy brow and adorned thy heady
Go, mark a leap of rubbish, and of desolate stones; hear the hooting of the owls
and the howling of the dragons, as each one calleth to his fellow in the midst
of a desolation which cannot be repaired! How art thou fallen from heaven,
Lucifer, son of the morning! Thus God breaketh in pieces with his right hand
everything arrogant and supercilious, that dares to assert greatness apart from
his endowment, or to presume on authority other than he delegates. I might
prolong the strain. I might tell you of Rome, and all the boastings of that
Imperial mistress, point to her faded charms, and tell of her decay and her
decadence. I might lead you back to Sennacherib and all his hosts overthrown, or
recite the story of Nebuchadnezzar, driven out from the abodes of men, and
feeding the beasts. I might show you lesser kings, kings of Israel, brought
exceeding low, until they who had sat on the throne as princes pined in the
dungeon among slaves. To multiply instances would be only to confirm the general
current of history, and illustrate the fact that the Lord, even the Lord of
hosts, always cuts down the high tree, humiliates the creature that exalts
itself, and suffers no flesh to glory in his presence. That is the law of his
government.The question arises, how does it concerns us? Doubtless it opens a
sad prospect to those who are lifted up with pride, or inflated with
self-opinion. Are there any among you who boast in heraldry a long succession of
illustrious names which has ennobled your pedigree? Some people seem to think
that the world is hardly good enough for them to tread upon, as if they were
made of china, while other men are moulded but of common clay; they look down
upon the public as an ignoble herd, and speak of the masses as the "many-headed"
and the "great unwashed." Such a man will play the parasite to his own dear
self, passionately cherish his own conceits and petulantly hold that whatever
belongs to him is better than anyone else can procure for love or money, be it
his house, or his horse, the water from his well, or the wine from his cellar.
At his wit let all inferiors laugh; to his greed let all who, would receive his
patronizing nod do obeisance. In stately isolation he will acknowledge no rival.
Knowest thou, man, that in one respect thou hast a veritable pre-eminence? --
thou mayest fairly challenge all thy fellows for one whose disposition the Lord
hates more than he abhors shine. Among the seven abominations, your order ranks
highest. No liar or murderer can claim a preeminence over you in vice so long as
the Proverbs stand. Ere long, the heel of the Almighty shall be lifted higher
than thy haughty head. He will cast thee down, be thy look never so proud; for
the Lord hath purposed it to stain the pride of all glory, to bring into
contempt all the excellency of the earth.There is, again, an arrogance of mind,
of judgement, of opinion, just as ignorant -- if not quite so grotesque -- as
his who dreams that his birth is of higher caste, and his blood of richer hue
than other men. Humanity in the bulk is the idol of some people; and yonder I
see the man who quotes himself as an illustrious specimen. He does not believe
in the total depravity of human nature. Judging by himself, the statement that
the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint, is a myth; or if it were ever
true of a recreant Jew, it never was a fair indictment against such an orthodox
Christian as he is. No, no; he has kept the law; he feels that in all things he
is blameless; he has not erred, neither will he humble himself before the word
that God speaks to us. In the opinion of such, the gospel that we preach is very
good for harlots, thieves, and drunkards, but it is of no use to the righteous,
for they have put down their own names among those who need no repentance.
Admirable in their conduct, their temper amiable, and their disposition
generous, a salvation by free grace would be wasted on them. The Lord will abase
thee, be thou man or woman, whosoever thou mayest be; he will shame thee; the
axe is ready to be laid at thy root even now. Thy goodness is not God's
goodness, and thy righteousness is not Christ's righteousness; therefore, shall
the moth consume it, and it shall be eaten away. Or it is my friend yonder, a
working man, who says, " Well, I work as hard as anybody; I bring up my children
as well as I can; I have nothing from the parish; and if I see a poor mate out
of work, I always subscribe my mite, though I have not much to give away; can it
be right to tell me that I am not in a fair way of going to heaven?" Ah! the
Lord will deprive you of such boasting, for he will bring down all these high
trees. You that have any righteousness of your own, whether you be rich or poor,
the same word will apply to you all. What mattereth it whether you are born of
princes, or the offspring of beggars, pride will nestle in any heart, and
presumption will take advantage of any circumstances? Perhaps I may address some
person who says, "Well, I am a member of the orthodox and true church; I have
been baptized, and I have been confirmed after the most proper manner; I receive
the Lord's supper on all fit and proper occasions. The clergyman from whom I
take the sacrament has received apostolical ordination. How tasteful the
architecture of our church! How decorous; the congregation! How enchanting the
music! There are none of your rough wild notes that give vent to the feelings.
Our organ is the perfection of mechanism, and it is played with the utmost
skill. Our sacred singers perform their parts with reverent taste. Our litanies
are wailed out in plaintive tones. We do the thing in the right style; and as I
am a member of a branch of a catholic church, I hold myself to be an heir of
eternal life." From thy towering imaginations, O man, thou shalt speedily
totter. God will cast thee down, as surely as thou livest. No boasting, even of
our orthodoxy, or of our attention to religious formalities, shall ever be
allowed to abide his judgment. The Lord hath set his face against all boastings,
and all confidences, other than a trust in the cross, and a holy reliance on the
finished work and righteousness of Jesus Christ. Or shall it fare better with
another class? There is our friend who says, "Well, well, I do not believe in
forms and ceremonies; but, mark you, I always judge and weigh everything." He
estimates himself as an independent thinker; he is bound by no precedents,
fostered by no creeds, and considers that he is amenable to no judgment but his
own. He owns no lord but his own conscience, no duty but such as he prescribes
himself, and as for wisdom, he looks with indifference on all things whatsoever
that his private judgment has not endorsed. Moreover, he doubts the inspiration
of the Bible, and has his misgivings as to the authenticity of some parts of it.
He indulges a little suspicion as to the deity of Christ, and as to the
doctrines of grace; he professes much intelligence, but he exhibits gross
negligence. Strong in his self-assertion, he makes light of the Word of God, and
the will of God, while he holds prophets and apostles in little esteem. Ah!
well, brother! God is against you; he will make a fool of you one of these days,
if you are so wise as to exalt yourself above his revelation. The world shall
see your folly. I tell thee, captious questioner, that the Lord will bring thee
down. "Tut, tut, tut, I do not believe in any of these things," exclaims the
successful merchant; "I say the best thing is to push ahead on one's own
account; I mean to save money, to get rich, to rise in the world, as others have
done who have made capital of their own wits, and taken care of their own
interest." This is the religion of many people; their creed being that God will
help those who help themselves; in their account, the highest wisdom is to
attend to this world, and as for the world to come, the best policy is to ignore
it. To the statutes of the Lord they give no heed; Evidently you see no need to
depend on God. With a stout pair of arms and a good clear brain, you are
confident you can make your own way in the world. Will you prosper, sir? I tell
you no; for God is against you. The Lord will you down. Whether it be strength
of limbs and lungs, force off brain and intellect, cunning works or scheming
plans you rely upon, he will lay you level with the dub ere long. You shall know
that he who exalteth himself against his maker maketh a sorry adventure.
Disaster and everlasting confusion are your inevitable fate. II. FURTHERMORE THE
LORD SAYS, "I WILL EXALT THE LOW TREE."Here is a word of comfort to some who
specially need it. You remember Joseph in the dungeon, Israel in Egypt, Hannah
in the family of Elkanah, David when Samuel would have passed him by, Hezekiah
when Sennacherib rebuked him. Are not all these instances of God exalting the
low tree? We have no time to expatiate on them, though they are well worthy of
attentive study. But rather now let us ask, Where are the low trees here among
ourselves? Who are they? The low trees are those poor in spirit, who think
others better than they are themselves; who, instead of carving their names
high, are willing to have them written low, because they feel they have nothing
whereof to glory, nought wherein to boast. The low trees are the penitents,
those who take their stand afar off with the publican, and say, "God, be
merciful to me a sinner"; you that feel your own weakness to do anything aright;
you who are conscious of your own worthlessness, and afraid that God will never
hear your prayers; you that are bowed down low with a sense of guilt, and hardly
dare to look up to the place where his honour dwelleth; you are the low trees,
you are such as God exalteth. You, too, who tremble at his word; when, you see
the threatening, fear lest it should be executed upon you; when you hear the
promise, hardly think it possible that it can belong to you -- you are low trees
-- God shall exalt you. You that feel your ignorance, and are willing to be
instructed; you that are modest as children, and ready to sit at the feet of
Jesus; you that have been broken in pieces until you feel that a crumb of mercy
would be more than you deserve, and are willing to take any dole he is pleased
to give -- you are the low tree. And you that are despised, who walk in darkness
and see no light; slandered for Christ's sake; reproached with crimes you never
committed; you of whom the world is not worthy, though the world accounts you to
be unworthy of its esteem -- you are the low trees, and God shall exalt you. God
grant us grace to humble ourselves under his mighty hand. The Lord exalteth the
low trees. Is there a soul among you that is ready to despair -- a low tree, so
low that it can only compare itself to a bramble-bush? Well, God dwelt in a
bush. You may think that if he should have enemy upon all other men, yet he must
make an exception of you, so aggravated are your offenses, so depraved your
disposition, and so alien to anything good your natural temperament. Oh! bless
the Lord! He exalteth the low tree. If voice can reach now any humble, fearful,
broken-hearted soul, even though that soul should say it is too good to be true,
yet, in God's name, Let me assure you it is God's message to you. Rejoice, yea,
sing unto your God, for he will lift up the poor from the dunghill, while he
casteth down the mighty from the seats of their pomp and their places of power.
III. THE LORD HAS ALSO DECLARED THAT "HE WILL DRY UP THE GREEN TREE."Whether
that green tree be high or low, it does not matter; if it be green in itself, he
will cut it down Mark you, a man may be as high as heaven; if it is God that
makes him high, he will stand; but if he be high in creature-strength, land
creature-merits, and creature-glory, he shall be brought down; and a man may be
low without merit, if he is merely mean and mire, paltry and pitiable, not worth
a straw. That is not the spirit of lowliness that God blesses. In like manner, a
man may be garden because he is planted by the rivers of God's living waters,
that is healthy enough; but those that are like the green bay tree of the
Psalmist, trees growing in their own soil, never transplanted by grace, green in
the verdure of worldly prosperity, and taking all their delight in earthly
things -- those are the trees God will dry up. Many I know of this kind! They
profess to be God's people, and they say, "Well, I never have any anxiety about
my eternal state; I do not see why I should ever have any doubts or fears. I
have no prickings of conscience." This green tree boasts "that its leaves never
fade, that its evidences are always bright." "They have no changes; therefore,
they fear not God." "They have not been emptied from vessel to vessel. They have
no cares; they walk confidently, they talk arrogantly; they smile disdainfully
at some of God's people who groan over their infirmities and bemoan their sins.
Perhaps they go the length of protesting that they have no vices, and do no
wrong; or they will say, " Why, as for me, I have overcome my bad habits and
made amends for my youthful follies and indiscretions; and if I have any faults,
they are only such as are natural to men, and they do not cause me any trouble."
He will even turn round and rail on this wise, "I cannot think how some of God's
people can do as they do. " No; he is such a blessed, heavenly-minded hypocrite,
that after he has condoned his own crimes, he condemns other people's customs;
hence he holds up the severity of his judgment as a proof of the integrity of
his character. He makes broad fringes to his own garment, and he cannot think
how good men can wear such narrow fringes to theirs; he has a wide phylactery,
and he cannot imagine how a godly man can wear a smaller one; he prays an hour
and a half at the corner of the street; he cannot think that any man is godly
who prays for ten minutes in his closet; he sounds a trumpet, and gives away
three halfpence to the poor; he cannot understand people when they give away ten
pounds, or a hundred pounds, in the cause of religion; he thinks they must have
mercenary motives. He might stand up and say, "Look at me if you want to see
what a man should be, how a Christian should live, and what his manner, and
conduct, and conversation should be." Behold the man who counts himself the
paragon of perfection. Have you never met with such green trees? I have. These
people feed without fear, and mock without motive. They laugh at the idea of
Paul's apprehension, when he said, "I keep under my body, lest, after having
preached to others, I myself should be a cast-away." They think such fears
inconsistent with the doctrine of final perseverance, though in this they are
mistaken. A man may know that a true believer will persevere and yet be very
much afraid that he shall not himself hold out, because he may suspect himself
whether he is a true believer at all. This green tree is never troubled about
the future; it is all right with him; he has launched upon a smooth, deceitful
sea, and he believes it will be calm until he gets to the other side, as for
human weakness, he knows nothing at all about that. He hears God's children
crying, "Who shall deliver us from the body of this death?" and he looks
shocked.The professor, too, who boasts his deep experience, is like this green
tree. Young Christians he frowns at -- he does not like young people. No; he
would not have many young people in the church, because they might adulterate
it, and bring down its spiritual tone. As to doctrine, he is profoundly learned;
"he can a hair divide, betwixt the west and south-west side," and he censures at
once the man who does not understand all the points. He understands more than
the Bible reveals; he has improved upon the Scriptures; and those who cannot get
up to his standard he despises. As for the poor, and meek, and sickly among the
people of God, he, one of the strong ones, pushes them on either side, and will
give them no rest. Never a man yet had anything to boast of as his own, but God
was sure to dry him up. Let your life be green as emerald, it shall be brown as
March dust before long. You seek sap and nourishment from yourselves. The
spider's web -- how soon it is blown away! Well it may, because it cometh out of
the spider's own bowels. Everything that comes out of self, and lives on self,
and hands on self, and fattens on self, no matter how green it may be, verily,
verily, it shall be dried up. Lastly: -- IV. THE LORD MAKES "THE DRY TREE TO
FLOURISH." There are some dry trees to be pitied in their present condition, yet
to be congratulated on their prospects. I would not say a word to encourage
doubting, but I would say a great many words to encourage doubters. How many of
God's people may be fitly compared to a dry tree! They have little joy; they
have not got to full assurance. They are afraid to say, "My Beloved is mine, and
I am his." Every night, before they go to bed, they feel such consciousness of
sin that they can hardly sleep. They feel themselves so weak that where others
go and think nothing of it, they dare not trust themselves. They are afraid to
risk temptation; sometimes they are so conscious of their own weakness, that
they do not exert themselves as they ought, and hence their low spirits, their
melancholy, and their mourning. They think they are of no use to the church,
they are half inclined to suspect it was a mistake for them to be baptized, and
that they were to blame for uniting themselves with the people of God. "Oh!" say
they, "if I be a lamb, I am the sickliest of the whole flock." Were I an heir of
promise, should I feel the assaults of sin as I do? or should I be so much the
prey of indwelling corruption, and become so dry and withered? Do they retire to
the closet to pray, hardly a word can they utter. They come to, the assembly of
believers, and though they do sing with their lips, the heart cannot sing as it
would. There are times, too, when walking home they say, "I go where others go,
but I get no comfort; if I were really the Lord's, should I be thus; if I did
trust Christ, should I ever be so languid?" Brethren, if it is of your own
bringing about that you are thus dry, I do not offer you any comfort; but if the
Holy Spirit has led you to see your weakness, your nothingness, your deadness,
then I am glad you have been brought to this pass, for God will cause the dry
tree to flourish. When we are weak, then are we strong. The death warrant is
gone out from God against everything that is of the creature. All that is of
nature's spinning must be unravelled; not your bad nature only, but your good
nature; not your vices only, but your virtues; not your sins alone, but your
graces; all these must be contemned and despised so far as you venture to put
them in the place at Christ. You must cry "Away with them; away with them," as
if they were so much dung and dross. Christ's blood only for our hope, the
Spirit's work only for our life. Here let us stand, and we shall be safe. The
dry tree by divine grace shall flourish; the green tree, deserted by the dew of
heaven, shall dry up. The low tree, fostered by the husbandman, shall mount even
to the stars; the high tree, cut down by the axe of judgment, shall lay
outstretched along the plains of ruin for ever.I think I see the last great day.
There is a greater forest than this; this is but one corner of it. I see that
forest stretched over sea and land, over mountain and valley. It is a forest of
men. There stand the Pharisees, the self-righteous, the tyrants, the autocrats
of haughty mien, the men of profound intellect with lofty brows, the men that
questioned God's government; the infidels who said "Atheos," and denied his
being. I see the high trees, that towered to such an elevation, and attracted so
much admiration; and there, too, are the low trees contented to he low, for
Christ of Nazareth was lowly. He, whose disciples they are, came riding on an
ass even in the day of his highest earthly triumph. And now I hear the trumpet
ring exceeding loud and long. Through the glades of that vast human forest the
sound comes ringing broad and clear, "Smite! smite! smite! and let all the high
trees fall!" O God, what a crash!He smote great kings and slew famous kings; for
his mercy endureth for ever. He smites. What! another crash? The orthodox who
rested in their orthodoxy, and the self-righteous men and women fall there;
yonder the philosophic atheist, and here the scoffing sceptic; there the haughty
persecutor, and there, again, the pompous priest and pretentious ceremonialist.
Gather them; in Tophet, ordained of old, pile them together, cedar upon oak, and
elm upon fir, gather them together. pile them on, pile them up; let the breath
of the Lord, like a stream of brimstone, come upon the mighty pile. It is the
funeral pyre of the giants. There lies the dead body of sin, and here comes the
living spouse of sin, to be immolated upon that same pile. Her name is Pride.
She comes; they clasp. The great transgression and the evil imagination,
together they lie down, and the flames arise. Now the cedars, full of resin,
give forth their flame, the sparks go up to heaven, and the flames even unto the
throne of God, whilst I hear the voices of multitudes singing, "Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! for thou hast judged the great temptress, even Pride,
and thou hast given her up to be burned with fire!" But what of you, what of
you, that will be faggots to that great burning? What of you, proud sons of men,
that will be fuel to that flame? Turn ye, turn ye! Fly ye to Christ, and then
you shall stand in the judgment, and join in the anthem, "Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" "Be wise now therefore, O ye kings; be instructed, ye
judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss
the son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way when his wrath is kindled
but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him." Oh! that we all
may be found among the humble -- not the haughty -- in our present life, and
that we may be gathered among the blessed, not destroyed among those whom the
Lord abhorreth, in our future destiny!


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  CHAPTER 3: THE JUDGMENT UPON ZACHARIAS
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A Sermon (No.3495) Published on Thursday, January 20th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [3]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "Thou shalt be dumb and
not able to speak until the day that these things shall be performed, because
thou believest not my words, which shall be fulfilled in their season." -- Luke
1:20. UNBELIEF is everywhere a great sin, and a grievous mistake. Unbelief has
proved the ruin of those countless multitudes who, having heard the gospel,
rejected it, died in their sins, have been consigned to the place of torment,
and await the fiercer judgment of the last day. I might ask the question
concerning this innumerable host, "Who slew all these?" The answer would be,
"Unbelief." And when unbelief comes into the Christian's heart, as it does at
times -- for the truest believer has his times of doubt; even Abraham, the
father of the faithful, sometimes had his misgivings -- that unbelief does not
assail his thoughts without withering his joys, and impairing his energies.
There is nothing in the world that costs a saint so dear as doubt. If he
disbelieve his God, he most assuredly robs himself of comfort, deprives himself
of strength, and does himself a real injury. The case of Zacharias may be a,
lesson to the Lord's people. It is to them I am going to speak: Zacharias is a
striking example of the ills a good man may have to suffer as the result of his
unbelief. In reviewing these, we mark: -- I. THE CHARACTER AND POSITION OF
ZACHARIAS. Here we cannot fail to discover some profitable lesson. He was
undoubtedly a believer. He is said, in the sixth verse, to have been righteous
before God. No man ever obtained such a reputation except by faith. "The just
shall live by faith." No other righteousness than that which is faith is of any
esteem in God's account. Such was the righteousness of Abraham, and such was the
righteousness of all the saints before the advent of our Redeemer. Such, too,
has been the standard ever since. Zacharias evidently was a real believer. Yet
for all that, when the angel appeared to him, and God gave him the promise of a
son, he was amazed, bewildered, incredulous, and could not credit, but only
question the announcement. "How shall I know that these things shall be?" Nor
was he merely a genuine believer; he was well instructed and greatly
enlightened, for he was a priest, and, as a priest considered, he was righteous
before God, and blameless, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the
Lord. That he was well instructed in the Word of God is undeniable. He could not
otherwise have discharged his duty, for the priest's lips must keep knowledge,
and he must teach men. Being proficient in the one, and competent for the other,
ignorance offered him no excuse. Moreover, as a man of years, he was probably to
be classed among the experienced saints of his time. He had borne the burden and
heat of the day, and received proof upon proof of the abundant mercy of God. Now
mark this. For any of us to doubt, who have been justified by faith is a
shameful delinquency. For those to doubt who have, in addition to their first
convictions, a thousand confirmations of the truth they have embraced, who are
acquainted with the covenant and its rich inventory of promises, who are deeply
taught in the things of God -- for such to doubt involves a higher degree of
guilt. I do not think that had Zacharias been a mere babe in grace, or an
inexperienced stripling, his unbelief would have met with so stern a rebuke. It
eras because he was a venerable priest, one thoroughly schooled in sacred truth,
a man who for many years instructed the people of Israel in the oracles of God,
that it became a crying evil for him to say, "Whereby shall I know this?" when
the angel told him of his prayer being heard, and of the manner of answer the
Lord would vouchsafe him. The high office that Zacharias held as a priest caused
him to be looked up to. Hence his conduct was more narrowly watched, and his
example had a wider influence. On a similar account we have need, all of us in
our several spheres, to consider the effect of our actions upon others. The
higher a man's position, the greater his responsibility; and in the event of any
delinquency, the graver his offense. For you to disbelieve, my dear brother, who
are at the head of a household, is worse than a personal infirmity; it is a
violation of duty to your family. And you, dear friend, who preach the gospel,
for you to disbelieve, who are looked upon by many as an advanced Christian, as
a mature saint whose example may be safely followed by those who listen to your
counsels -- this is a great and a crying evil, whereby you disonour the Lord. I
pray God that your conscience may be tenderly sensitive, and that you may be
aroused to a sense of the dishonour you bring to him by your faithlessness.How
peculiarly favoured Zacharias was! An angel of the Lord appeared unto him. Not
to any of the other priests, when they were offering incense, did such a
heavenly visitor come. And what welcome tidings he brought! It was a wonderful
message that he was to be the father of a child great in the sight of the Lord,
one who should minister in the spirit and power of Elias, and become the
forerunner of the Messiah. This surely was a signal instance of Divine favour.
And mark this, beloved, our God is very jealous of those whom he highly favours.
You cannot have privileged communications from the Lord, or be admitted into
close communion with him, without finding that he is a jealous God. The nearer
we draw to him, the more hallowed our sense of his presence will be. But to
doubt his Word, or question the fulfillment of his promise when he speaks kindly
to us, must incur his censure. I speak after the manner of men; we do not expect
from a stranger the esteem which we ought to merit from our servants. But our
friends, who know us better than servants, ought to trust us more implicitly.
And yet beyond common friendship in the near relation and tender attachment of a
wife to her husband, the most unqualified confidence should be reposed. Even so,
my brethren, if you and I have ever been permitted to lean our heads on Jesus'
bosom; if we have sat down at his banquets, and his banner over us has been
love; if we have been separated from the world by peculiar fellowship with
Christ, and have had choice promises given us, we cannot, like Zacharias, ask,
"Whereby shall I know" without grieving the Holy Spirit of God, and bringing
upon ourselves some sad chastisement as the result.What soothing comfort had
just been administered to Zacharias by the angel of the Lord! Was not the manner
of the salutation fitted to allay terror, and inspire him with trust? The
troubled thoughts that perplexed him, and the fear that fell upon him when the
angel appeared standing at the right hand of the altar, met with no rebuke. If
it was natural that so unwonted a vision should startle him, there was a gentle
sympathising tenderness in the angel's address that might well hays stilled the
throbbings of his heart. "Fear not, Zacharias, for thy prayer is heard." And so
is it with us when the consolations of God have been neither few nor small, and
when his good will towards us has been pointedly expressed, does it not make
doubt and questioning more inexcusable? Do we not thereby aggravate the sin?
Some of us have lived in the very bosom of comfort. Precious promises have been
brought home to our souls; we have eaten of the marrow and the fatness; we have
drunk the wines on the lees well refined. We are no strangers to the blessing of
his eternal and unchanging love, or to the light of his countenance, which they
prove who find grace in his eyes. Oh! if we begin to doubt after these
discriminating love tokens, what apology can we offer? How can we hope to escape
from the chastening rod?Moreover, the misgivings that Zacharias betrayed relate
to the very subject on which his supplications were offered. It was in response
to his own petition that the angel said to him, "Thy prayer is heard." I marvel
at his faith that he should persevere in prayer for a boon which seemed, at his
own and his wife's age, to have been out of the course of nature, and beyond the
domain of hope, but I marvel a great deal more that, when the answer came to
that very prayer, Zacharias could not believe it. So full often is it with us;
nothing would surprise some of us more than to receive an answer to some of our
prayers. Though we believe in the efficacy of prayer, at times we believe so
feebly that when the answer comes, as come it does, we are astounded and filled
with amazement. We can scarcely think of it as a purpose of God, it seems rather
to us like a happy coincidence. Surely this adds greatly to the sin of unbelief.
If we have been asking for mercy without expecting it, and pleading promises
while harbouring mistrust, every prayer we have offered has been only a
repetition of our secret unbelief; and it is God's faithfulness that brings our
inconsistency to light. One other reflection is suggested by the narrative.
Zacharias appears to have staggered at a promise which others, whom we might
well imagine to have been weaker in faith then himself, implicitly believed. The
veteran falters where a babe in grace might have taken courage. And is it not
always a scandal if any of us who have been conspicuously favoured of God are
ready to halt, while our feebler brethren and sisters are animated and
encouraged? No dubious thought seems to have crossed the mind of Elizabeth, no
incredulous expression fell from her lips. She said, "Thus hath the Lord dealt
with me."This case was the very opposite of that of Abraham and Sarah. There
Abraham believed, but Sarah doubted; here the wife believes in the face of her
husband's scruples. In like manner, Mary, that humble village maiden, accepts
with simple faith the high and holy salutation with which she was greeted. She
just basks a natural question, and that being answered, she replies, "Be it unto
me, according to thy Word." Her surprise was soon exchanged for joy, and
by-and-by she begins to sing with a loud voice, "My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." Not a little remarkable is this
opening chapter of the Gospel according to Luke. Woman, who had been in the
background through long preceding generations, seems suddenly to take a foremost
place. Zacharias and Joseph stand in doubt, while Elizabeth and Mary exultingly
believe. And who knows but I may be addressing some poor woman here who, in the
depth of affliction, bodily suffering, and poverty, nevertheless rejoices in God
with all her heart? But without a doubt, I am now speaking to many a man who is
vexed with trifling cares, murmurs bitterly because of petty annoyances, and
distrusts his God when clouds come over the sky so that ho sees not his way.
Shame on our unbelief. Think shame of yourselves because of it, I pray you.
Never does it disgrace us more than when the weaklings of the Lord's family put
us to the blush by the simplicity and sincerity of their faith. The character
and position of Zacharias may furnish a striking moral, but I do urgently
entreat each Christian to point the keen edge of criticism at himself, and
consider how much he is personally to blame for his own unbelief. Let us now
proceed to investigate: -- II. THE FAULT OF ZACHARIAS.Whence this perilous
wavering at that privileged hour His fault was that he looked at the difficulty.
"I am an old man," said he, "and my wife is well stricken in years." And while
he looked at the difficulty he would fain suggest a remedy; he wanted a sign.
"Whereby shall I know this?" It was not enough for him that God had said so; he
wanted some collateral evidence to guarantee the truth of the word of the Lord.
This is a very common fault among really good people. They look for a sign. I
have often trembled in my own soul when I have felt an inclination thus to tempt
the Lord by looking for some minute circumstance to verify a magnificent
promise. When I have thought, "Hereby shall I know whether he does hear prayer
or not," a cold shiver has passed over me, the shudder has gone through my soul
that ever I should think of challenging the truth of God's word, when the fact
is so certain. To us who have full often cried unto the Lord in our distresses
and been delivered out of our troubles, to raise such a question is indeed
ungrateful. For a child of God who habitually prays to his Father in heaven to
look upon his faithfulness as a matter of uncertainty is to degrade himself, and
to dishonour his Lord. Yet there is no denying the tendency and disposition
among us to want a sign. As we read a prophecy of the future, we crave a token
in the present. If the Lord were pleased to give us a sign, or if he told us to
ask for a sign, we should be quite right in attaching a high importance thereto,
but for us to doubt a plain promise, and, therefore, ask a sign, is to sin
against the Lord. Sometimes we have wanted signs in spiritual things. Meet and
proper is it for us to rejoice in the true delights of fellowship with Christ,
but it ill becomes us to make our feelings a kind of test of our acceptance, or
to say, "I will not believe God if he does not indulge me with certain
manifestations of grace; unless he gives me the sweetmeats I crave, I will be
sulky and sullen, and refuse to eat the children's bread." Why, such conduct is
wilful and wicked; it is weak, and utterly inexcusable. Yet how many of us have
been guilty of this folly? Now, as Zacharias stood upon the threshold of the
gospel dispensation, and he was the first among those who heard the glad tidings
to express unbelief, it was necessary that he should be made an example of.God
would show at the very outset, even before John the Baptist was born, that
unbelief could not be tolerated nor should it go unchastened. Therefore, his
servant, Zacharias, must, as soon as he had asked for a sign, have such a sign
as would make him suffer for months to come, constrain him to be sorry that he
had ever dared to proffer the request. Oh! beloved, is our faith still so weak,
and our experience still so contracted, that we cannot yet trust our God? Twenty
years have we known him. Has he been a wilderness to us? Have his mercy and
truth ever failed us in time of need? Shall all his tender dealings with us
count for nothing? Do ye think so lightly of the gift of his Son, the gift of
the Holy Ghost, of the dally providence which has guarded you, and of the hourly
benediction which has been vouchsafed to you, that ye would fain put aside these
unfailing benefits from your grateful remembrance, while you indulge in some
paltry whim, and tempt the Lord your God by your mistrust? That be far from any
of us! We would rather take up the position of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
who, when arraigned before Nebuchadnezzar, and adjudged to be thrown into the
furnace of fire, said, "Our God is able to deliver us; but," they added, "if not
(though he should do nothing of the kind), nevertheless be it known unto thee, O
king, we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast
set up." That is the spirit in which we ought to walk before God -- "Though he
slay me, yet will I trust in him." What if he does not spare my mothers precious
life? What if he does not preserve my child from the ravages of the fatal
epidemic? What if he take away the desire of mine eyes with a stroke? What if my
business should cease to thrive? What if my health fail and my strength decay?
What if I be dishonoured by the scandal of my neighbours? Shall I, therefore,
cast off my allegiance to God, or betray my trust in him? Am I to engage in
rebellion like this? Not flood nor flame could quench or extinguish his love to
me. Shall anxiety or tribulation, disappointment or disaster sever my heart from
devotion to him? Nay, God give me grace to see my cattle destroyed, and my goods
swept away, and my children cut off in their prime, and to hear cruel taunts
from the wife of my bosom; to be covered with sore boils, and to sit on a
dunghill and scrape myself with a potsherd and find my best friends miserable
comforters, and yet, in the midst of accumulated distresses, to be able to say,
"I know that my Redeemer liveth; he has not failed to deliver me hitherto, and
though, after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.
Though the fig-tree should not blossom, though the flocks and herds be cut off,
yet will I trust in the Lord, and glory in the God of my salvation." If true to
our high profession, the Christian's faith should not borrow its hue from the
circumstances by which he is surrounded. To hanker after signs that a promise
shall be fulfilled is obviously to show distrust of the prosmiser. "Now the God
of hope fill you with all joy and peace, in believing, that ye may abound in
hope through the power of the Holy Ghost." So shall you be restrained from
asking for a petty sign to justify you in relying on his princely bounty. The
Lord keep you from this great transgression! We pass on to observe: -- III. THE
PENALTY ZACHARIAS INCURRED.His morbid propensity was followed by a mortifying
punishment. He had doubted, and he became dumb, and as the narrative clearly
shows us, he was deaf likewise. Such was his chastisement, and it was sent not
in anger, but in God's own covenant love. What a salutary medicine! Although
bitter to the taste, how effective it was! Read his song, and you will see the
evidence. He had been for months silent, quiet, shut out from all sound, and
unable to make any. But well he had occupied his months of seclusion. He had
searched the prophets -- do you see that? He had been musing much upon the
coming one -- do you see that? Deep humility had taken the place of arrogant
presumption. He was bowed down before the majesty of God, yet at the same time
full of peace and blissful hope. Thus he looked into the glorious future. Oh!
dear brethren, if you are prone to doubt, this sickness of the mind will require
a strong corrective. Very likely God will give you some sharp medicine, but it
shall work for your good. As his child, he will not chasten you so as to injure
you, but he will chasten you so as to benefit you. I do not think children
generally court the rod, however beneficial it may be, and yet I am quite sure
there is no wise child of God who would not shrink from the graver ills which
render such discipline essential to his soul's health.See how judgment was
tempered with mercy. The punishment sent to Zacharias was not so severe as it
might have been. Instead of being struck deaf and dumb, he might have been
struck dead. As I read this passage, I wondered that God had not struck me deaf
and dumb when I have spoken unbelieving words -- when I have been depressed in
spirit, and spoken unadvisedly with my lips. Oh! had the Lord been wroth with
me, and said, "If that is your witness about me, you shall never speak again."
That would have been most just, and I might have been a mournful instance of his
indignation against his unbelieving servants; he has not dealt so with me; glory
be to his name!And this chastisement did not invalidate the promise. The Lord
did not say, "Well, Zacharias, as you don't believe it, your wife, Elizabeth,
shall not have a son. There shall be a John born, but he shall not come to your
house." Oh! no; that is a grand passage -- "If we believe not, yet he abideth
faithful; he cannot deny himself." The promise still stands. God does not take
advantage of our unbelief to cry off and say, "I will give thee no blessings
because thou doubtest me" -- no, but having said it, he does it and his Word
does not return unto him void. Even the trembling, doubting children, though
they get the rod, get the blessing too; and the promise is fulfilled, though the
father is dumb when the blessing comes. Very painful, indeed, was his
chastisement. One would not like to be deaf and dumb for a day; but to be deaf
and dumb for the space of nine months must have been a very painful trial to
this man. Moreover, he could not bless the people; he could not speak a word; he
could not instruct the people; he was useless for that part of the priest's
work; and when the song went up within the hallowed walls of the temple, he
could not hear it. He might know by signs that they were singing a hallelujah,
yet his ears could not catch its grateful strains. That poor tongue of his was
silent. He could not add a note to the volume of praise that went up to the God
he loved. It must have been mournful to him to have no prayer in the family
which he could hear, and in which he could join, and to be as good as dead for
all practical purposes. Now I am afraid thence are many believers who have had
to suffer something like this, for many days, on account of their unbelief. I
think I can point out some who are unable to hear the gospel as once they did
many years ago, a friend said that he could not hear me preach. I said to him,
"Buy a horn." "No," he said, "it is not your voice; I can hear that, but I don't
enjoy it." My reply was, "Perhaps that is my fault, but I am far from sure that
it is not your own." I fear, in such cases, it is quite as often the hearer's
fault as the preacher's fault. At any rate, when others profit, and our judgment
approves, though our hearts find no refreshment, there is reason to suspect that
in the dullness of our senses we are compelled to bear chastisement for our
unbelief. You go where others go, and find no solace. You hear what edifies and
comforts them, but there is no cheer for you. You are deaf; your ears are closed
to what the Lord says. Very often it has happened, I fear, to some here, that,
for want of faith, they have lost their speech. Time was when they could tell of
the Lord's goodness, but they seem silent now. They could sing once, but their
harps are hung on the willows now. As they get with their companions, they seem
as if they have lost all their pleasant conversation. If they try the old
accustomed strings of the time-worn harp, the ancient skill is gone. They cannot
praise God as once they did; and all because on one occasion, when the promise
was clear before their eyes, they would challenge and mistrust it. They could
not rely upon their God. Little do we know how many Fatherly chastisements come
upon us as the result of our unbelief. The lessons I gather, and with which I
conclude, are these -- First, if any of you, beloved, are weak in faith, do not
be satisfied about it. Cry to God. Our God deserves better homage of us than a
weak, attenuated faith can render him. He deserves to be trusted with such
confidence as a child gives his parent. Ask him to increase your faith. And you
who have faith, oh! keep it jealously, exercise it habitually; pray to the Lord
to preserve it. Never begin to walk according to the sight of the eyes. Confer
not with flesh and blood. Don't come down from that blessed height of simple
confidence in God, but ask that you may abide there, and no longer doubt. The
Church wants believers to believe for her, and to pray for her. "He that
wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed. Let not that
man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord." Art thou strong in faith,
be thou stronger still; art thou weak in faith, be thou strong.But let the
unbeliever, the utter unbeliever, tremble. If a good man, a saved man, a noble
and a blameless man was nevertheless for months struck dumb for unbelief, what
will become of you who have no faith at all? He that believeth not is condemned
already, because he hath not believed on the Son of God. To you, unbeliever, no
angel Gabriel will appear, but the destroying angel awaits you. What shall be
your fearful chastisement? You will be silent; it will be eternal. Oh! you shall
stand silent at the judgment-seat of Christ, unable to offer any excuse for your
rebellion and unbelief. Unbelief will destroy the best of us: faith will save
the worst of us. He that believeth on the Lord Jesus Christ hath eternal life --
he that believeth not (whatever else his apparent excellences will assuredly
perish. Faith, faith! this is the priceless saving thing to every one of us. The
gift be yours to believe. The grace be yours to inherit the righteousness of
faith. The joy be yours to believe in Jesus Christ with all your hearts. The
triumph be yours to believe now to the saving of your souls. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 4: OUR GLORIOUS TRANSFORMING
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A Sermon (No.3496) Published on Thursday, January 27th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [4]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
September 3rd, 1871. "But now in Christ Jesus, ye, who sometimes were far off,
are made nigh by the blood of Christ." -- Ephesians 2:13. I DO not want you to
feel at this time as if you were listening to a sermon, or to any sort of set
discourse, but rather I should like, if it were possible, that you should feel
as if you were alone with the Saviour, and were engaged in calm and quiet
meditation; and I will try to be the prompter, standing at the elbow of your
contemplation, suggesting one thought and then another; and I pray, dear
brethren and sisters in, Christ, as many of you as are truly in him, that you
may be able so to meditate as to be profited, and to say at the close, "My
meditation on him was sweet. I will be glad in his name." There are three very
simple things in the text. The first is what we were. Some time ago "we were far
off." But secondly, what we are -- we are "made nigh" And then there is the how,
the means of this great change. It is "in Christ Jesus," and it is added, "by
the blood of Christ." First, then, let us with humility consider, as believers:
-- I. WHAT WE WERE. There was a day when we passed from death unto life. All of
us who are children of God have undergone a great and mysterious change; we have
been new created, we have been born again. If any of you have not experienced
this great change, I can only pray that you may, but you will not be likely to
take much interest in the theme of meditation this evening. As many of you as
have experienced this great change are now asked to recollect what you were. You
were far off, first, in the respect that you were aliens from the commonwealth
of Israel. The Jew was brought nigh. The Jewish people were favoured of God with
light, while the rest of the world remained in darkness. "To them he gave" the
oracles; with them he made a covenant; but as for the rest of the nations, they
were left unclean and far off. They could not come near to God. This was our
condition. We were Gentiles. We had no participation in the covenant that God
had made with Abraham; we had no share in the sacrifices of Aaron or his
successors. We could not come in by the way of circumcision. We were not born
after the flesh, and we had no right to that fleshly covenant, however great its
privileges. We are brought nigh now. All that the Jew ever had we have. We have
all his privileges, and more. He had but the shadow, we have the substance. He
had but the type: we have the reality. But aforetime we had neither shadow nor
substance; we were afar off, and had no participation in them. And, beloved,
when we think of our distance from God, there are three or four ways in which we
may illustrate it. We were far off from God, for a vast cloudland of ignorance
hung between our souls and him. We were lost as in a tangled wood in which there
was no pathway. We were like some bird drifted out to sea that should be bereft
of the instinct which guides it on its course, driven to and fro by every wind,
and tossed like a wave by every tempest. We knew not God, neither did we care to
know. We were in the dark with regard to him and his character; and when we did
make guesses concerning God, they were very wide of the truth, and did not help
to bring us at all near. He has taught us better now; he has taught us to call
him Father, and to know that he is love. Since we have known God, or, rather,
have been known of God, we have come nigh, but once our ignorance kept us very
far off. Worse than that, there was between us and God a vast range of the
mountains of sin. We can measure the Alps, the Andes have been sealed, but the
mountains of sin no man has ever measured yet. They are very high. They pierce
the clouds. Can you think of the mountains of your sin, beloved? Reckon them all
up since your birth-sins of childhood, and youth, and manhood, and riper years;
your sins against the gospel, and against the law; sins with the body, and sins
with the mind; sins of every shape and form -- ah! what a mountain range they
make! And you were on one side of that mountain, and God was on the other. A
holy God could not wink at sin, and you, an unholy being, could not have
fellowship with the thrice Holy God. What a distance! -- an impassable mountain
sundered you from your God. It has all gone now. The mountains have sunk into
the sea, our transgressions have all gone, but, oh! what hills they were once,
and what mountains they were but a little while ago! In addition to these
mountains, there was, on the other side nearest to God, a great gulf of divine
wrath. God was angry, justly angry, with us. He could not have been God if sin
had not made him angry. He that plays with sin is very far from knowing anything
of the character of the Most High. There was a deep gulf. Ah! even the lost in
hell know not how deep it is. They have been sinking: but this abyss hath no
bottom. God's love is infinite. Who knoweth the power of shine anger, O Most
High? It is all filled now, as far as we are concerned. Christ has bridged the
chasm. He has taken us to the other side of it; he ho brought us nigh; but what
a gulf it was! Look down and shudder. Have you ever stood on a glacier and
looked down a crevasse, and taken a great stone and thrown it down, and waited
till at last you heard the sound as it reached the bottom? Have not you
shuddered at the thought of falling down that steep? But there you stood but a
little while ago, an heir of wrath, even as others. So the Apostle puts it,
"even as others." Oh! how far off you were!Nor was this all, for there was
another division between you and God. When, dear friends, we were brought to
feel our state, and to have some longings after the Most High, had the mountains
of sin been moved and the chasm of wrath been filled, yet there remained another
distance of our own making. There was a sea of fear rolling between us and God.
We dare not come to him. He told us he would forgive, but we could not think it
true. He said that the blood would cleanse us -- the precious blood of the
atoning sacrifice -- but we thought our stains too crimson to be removed. We
dared not believe in the infinite compassion of our Father. We ran from him; we
could not trust him. Do you not remember those times when to believe seemed an
impossibility, and salvation by faith appeared to be as difficult a thing as
salvation by the works of the law? That sea has gone away now. We have been
ferried o'er its streams. We have no fear of God now in the form of trembling,
slavish fear; we are brought nigh and say, "Abba Father," with an untrembling
tongue. You see then something of the distance there was between us and God, but
I will illustrate it in another way. Think of God a moment. Your thoughts cannot
reach him: he is infinitely pure; the heavens are not clean in his sight; and he
charges his angels with folly. That is one side of the picture. Now look at
yourself, a worm that has rebelled against its Creator, loathsome with sin,
through and through defiled. When I see a beggar and a prince stand together I
see a distance, but ah! it is but an inch, a span, compared with the infinite
leagues of distance in character and nature between God and the fallen man. Who
but Christ could have lifted up from so low an estate to so high a condition --
from fellowship with devils unto communion with Jehovah himself? The distance
was inconceivable. We were lost in wonder at the greatness of the love that made
it all to vanish. We were afar off.Now I have stated that very simply. Think it
over a minute. And what do you feel as the result of your thought? Why, humility
rises. Suppose you are a very experienced Christian, and a very intelligent
reader of the Bible; suppose that for many years your have been able to maintain
a consistent character. Ah! my dear brother, my dear sister, you have nothing
whereof glory when you recollect what you were, and what you would have been
still if it had not been for sovereign grace. You, perhaps, have forgotten a
little that you were just what the Bible says. You have been so contemplating
your present privileges that you have for a while failed to remember that it is
only by the grace of God that you are what you are. Let these considerations
bring you beck to your true condition. And now with lowly reverence at the
cross-foot bow down your soul and say, "My Lord, between me and the greatest
reprobate there is no difference but what thy grace has made; between me and
lost souls in hell there is no difference except what shine infinite compassion
has deigned to make. I humbly bless thee, and adore thee, and love thee, because
thou hast brought me nigh." And now we shall continue our contemplation, but
take the second point. We have a bitter pill in this first one, but the next
consideration kills it, takes the bitterness away, and sweetens it. It is:II.
WHAT WE ARE -- WHAT WE ARE"We are made nigh through the blood of Christ." You
will please to observe that the Apostle does not say, "We hope we are"; he
speaks positively, as every believer should. Nor does he say, "We shall be."
There are privileges reserved for the future, but here he is speaking of a
present blessing, which may be now the object of distinct definite knowledge,
which ought to be, indeed, a matter of present experimental enjoyment. We are
brought nigh. What means he by this? Does not he mean, first, what I have
already said, that as we were far off, being Gentiles, and not of the favoured
commonwealth of Israel, we are now brought nigh, that is to say, we have all the
privileges of the once favoured race. Are they the seed of Abraham? So, are we.
for he was the Father of the faithful, and we, having believed, have become his
spiritual children. Had they an altar? We have an altar whereof they have no
right to eat which serve the tabernacle. Had they any high priest? We have an
high priest we have one who has entered into the heavenly. Had they a sacrifice
and paschal supper? We have Christ Jesus, who, by his one offering, hath for
ever put away our sin, and who is to-day the spiritual meat on which we feed.
All that they had we have, only we have it in a fuller and clearer sense. "The
law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ," and they have
come to us. But we are brought a great deal nearer than the Jew -- than most of
the Jews were, for you know, brethren, the most devout Jew could not offer
sacrifice to God; I mean, as a rule. Prophets were exceptions. They could not
offer sacrifices themselves; they could bring the victim, but there were some
special persons who must act as priests. The priest came nigh to God on the
behalf of the people. Listen, O ye children of God, who were once afar off! It
is the song of heaven. Let it be your song on earth -- "Thou wast slain and hast
redeemed us unto God by thy blood, and hath made us priests and kings." We are
all priests if we love the Saviour. Every believer is a priest. It is for him to
bring his sacrifice of prayer, and thanksgiving, and come in, even into the holy
place in the presence of the Most High. And I might say more, for no priest went
into the most holy place of all, save one, the high priest, and he once in the
year, not without blood and not without smoke and of incense, ventured into the
most holy place. Be we, brethren, see the veil taken right away, and we come up
to the mercy-seat without the trembling which the high priest felt of old, for
we see the blood of Jesus on the mercy-seat and the veil rent, and we come,
boldly to the throne of heavenly grace to obtain grace to help in time of need.
Oh! how near we are; nearer than the ordinary Jew; nearer than the priest; as
near as the high priest himself, for in the person of Christ we are where he is,
that is, at the throne of God. Let me say, dear brethren, that we are near to
God today, for all that divides us from God is gone. The moment a sinner
believes, all that mountain of sin ceases to be. Can you see those hills --
those towering Andes? Who shall climb them? But lo! I see one come who has the
soar of one that has died upon a cross. I see him hold up his pierced hand, and
one drop of blood falls on the hills, and they smoke; they dissolve like the fat
of rams; they burn to vapour, and they are gone. There is not so much as a
vestige of them left. Oh! glory be to God, there is no sin in God's book against
the believer; there is no record remaining; he hath taken it away and nailed it
to his cross, and triumphed in the deed. As the Egyptians were all drowned in
the sea, and Israel said, "The depths have covered them; there was not one of
them left," so may every believer say," All sin is gone, and we are pure,
accepted in the Beloved, justified through the blood and righteousness of Jesus
Christ." Oh! how glorious this nearness is when all distance is gone!And now,
brethren, we are near to God, for we are his friends. He is our mighty friend,
and we love him in return. Better than that, we are his children. A friend might
be forgotten, but a child -- a father's bowels yearn towards him. We are his
children. He has chosen us that we may approach unto him, that we may dwell in
his courts and abide, and go no more out for ever." The servant abideth not in
the house for ever, but the son abideth ever." And this is our privilege. And
yet even more than that. Can anybody here imagine how near Jesus Christ is to
God, So near are we, for that is truth which the little verse sings: -- "So near
-- so very near to God,More near I cannot be;For in the person of his SonI am as
near as he."If we are, indeed, in Christ, we are one with him: we are members of
his body, of his flesh, and of his bones; and he has said, "Where I am, there
shall also my servants be," and he has declared that we shall receive the glory
-- the glory which he had with the Father before the world was. What nearness is
this! Now I have stated that truth, I want you now to feed on it for a minute,
and draw the natural conclusions, and feel the fit emotion. Beloved, if you are
brought so near to God, what manner of lives ought you to lead? Common subjects
ought never to speak traitorous word, but a member of the Privy Council, one who
is admitted to the Court, should certainly be loyal through and through. Oh! how
we ought to love God, who has made us nigh! -- a people near unto him. How ought
heavenly things and holy things to engross our attention! How joyously we ought
to live too, for with such high favours as these it would be ungrateful to be
unhappy! We are near to God, brethren. Then God sees us in all things -- our
heavenly Father knows what we have need of; he is always watching over us for
good. We are near to him -- let us pray as if we were near God. There are some
prayers that are dreadful from the distance there is evidently in the mind of
the offerer. Too generally liturgies are addresses to a God too far off to be
reached, but the humble familiarity which boldly comes trembling with fear, but
rejoicing with faith, into the presence of God -- this becomes those who are
made nigh. When a man is near a neighbour whom he trusts he tells him his
griefs, he asks his help. Deal thus with God; live on him, live for him, live in
him. Be never distant from a God who has made you nigh unto himself. Our life
ought to be a heavenly one, seeing that we are brought nigh to God -- the God of
heaven. Brethren, how assured every one of us may be of our safety if we are,
indeed, believers in Christ, for if we are made nigh by love and friendship to
our God, he cannot leave us. If, when we were enemies, he brought us nigh, will
he not keep us now he has made us friends? He loved us so as to bring us up from
the depths of sin, when we had no thoughts, nor desires towards good, and now he
has taught us to love him and to long for him, will he forsake us? Impossible!
What confidence this doctrine gives!And once more, dear brethren and sisters, if
the Lord has brought us nigh, what hope we ought to have for those who are
farthest off from God to-day! Never be you amongst that pharisaical crew who
imagine that fallen women or degraded men cannot be uplifted again. Ye were
sometimes far off, but he has made you nigh. The distance was so great in your
case that surely he who met that can also meet the distance in another case.
Have hope for any who can be got under the sound of the gospel, and labour on
until the more hopeless, the most hopeless, are brought there. Oh! let us gird
up our loins for Christian work! believing that if God has saved us, there
remain no impossibles. The chief of sinners was saved years ago. Paul said so.
He had no mock modesty. I believe he said the truth The chief of sinners has
gone through the gate into heaven, and there is room for the second worst to get
through -- there is room for thee, friend, as there is room for me. The God that
brought me nigh has taught me to know that no man is beyond the reach of his
grace. But I must leave that with you, hoping that it will flavour all your
thoughts to-night. Once more. The last thing we are to consider is: -- III. HOW
THE GREAT CHANGE WAS WROUGHT.We were put into Christ, and then through the blood
we were made nigh. The doctrine of the Atonement is no novelty in this house. We
have preached it often, nay, we preach it constantly, and let this mouth be dumb
when it prefers any other theme to that old, old story of the passion, the
substitution, and consequent redemption by blood. Beloved, it is the blood of
Jesus that has done everything for us. Our debts Christ has paid; therefore,
those debts have ceased to be. The punishment of our sin Christ has borne and,
therefore, no punishment is due to us; substitution has met a case that is never
to be met by any other means. The just has suffered for the unjust to bring us
to God. We deserved the sword, but it has fallen upon him who deserved it not,
who voluntarily placed himself in our room instead, that he might give
compensation to justice and full liberty to mercy. It is by the blood that we
are brought nigh then. Christ has suffered in our stead, and we are, therefore,
forgiven. But think about that blood a minute. It means suffering; it means a
life surrendered with agony. Suffering -- we talk about it; ah! but when you
feel it, then you think more of the Saviour. When the bones ache, when the body
is racked, when sleep goes from the eyelids, when the mind is depressed, when
the head turns; ah! then we say, "My Saviour, I see a little of the price that
redeemed me from going down into the pit." The mental and physical suffering of
Christ are both worthy of our consideration, but depend upon it his soul's
sufferings were the soul of his sufferings; and when we are under deep
depression, brought near even unto death with sorrow, then again we guess how
the Saviour bought us. The early Church was noted in its preaching for preaching
facts. I am afraid now that we are too noted for forgetting facts and preaching
doctrine. Let us have doctrine by all means, but, after all the fact is the
great thing. When Paul gave a summary of the gospel which he triad preached, he
said, "This is the gospel that I have preached -- that Jesus Christ was
crucified, died, was buried, rose again." There in Gethsemane, where bloody
sweat bedews the soil; there on the pavement, where the lash tears again and
again into those blessed shoulders till the purple streams gush down, and the
ploughers make their furrows, and the blood fills them; there when they hurl him
on his back to the ground, and fasten his hands to the wood with rough iron;
there when they lift him up and dislocate his bones, when they fix the gross
into the earth; there when they sit and watch him, and insult his prayers, and
mock his thirst, while he hangs naked to his shame in the midst of a ribald
crew; there where God himself forsakes him, where Jehovah turns his face away
from him, where the sufferer shrieks in agony, "My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?" -- there it is that we were brought nigh, even we that were far
off. Adore your Saviour, my brethren -- bow before him. He is not here. for he
is risen; but your hearts can rise, and you can bow at his feet. Oh! kiss those
wounds of his; ask that by faith you may put your finger into the print of his
nails, and your hand into his side. "Be not faithless, but believing," and let
all your sacred powers of mind assist your imagination and faith to realise now
the price with which the Saviour brought you from a bondage intolerable. God
grant you grace to feel something of this. I have laid the truth before you. Now
sit down and quietly turn it over in your mind. And what will strike you? Why,
surely first the heinousness of sin. Was there nothing that could wash out sin
but blood, and was there no blood that could wash it out hut the blood of the
Son of God? O sin! O sin! what a black, what a damning thing thou art! Only the
blood of an incarnate God can wash out the smallest stain of sin. My heart, I
charge thee to hate it; my eyes, look not on it; my ears, listen not to its
siren charm; my feet, run not in its paths; my hands, refuse to handle it; my
soul, loathe, loathe that which murdered Christ, and thrust a spear through the
tenderest heart that ever beat.Next to that, do you not feel emotions of intense
gratitude that, if such a price was needed, such a price was found? God had but
one son, dearer to him than Isaac was to Abraham, and though there was none to
command him to do it, as there was in Abraham's case, yet voluntarily the
gracious Father led his son up to the cross. and it pleased the Father to
bruise, him; he put him to grief; he gave him up for us. Which shall I most
admire -- the love of the Father, or the love of tile Son? Blessed be God, we
are not asked to make distinctions, for they are one. "I and my Father are one,"
and in that sacred act of the sacrifice for the sins of men the Father and the
Son are both to be worshipped with equal love. You see, then, the heinousness of
sin in some degree, for its needing for its pardon the love of Jesus, and the
love of God that gave the Saviour's blood.But, dear friends, ere I sit down, let
me remark that we learn from our text and from the whole contemplation. what it
is that would bring us nearer experimentally than we are to-night. How did I get
nigh first? Through the blood. Do I want to get near to God to-night? Have I
been wandering? Is my heart cold? Have I got into a backsliding state? Do I want
to come close now to my blessed Father, and again to look up to him, and say, "
Abba," and rejoice in that filial spirit? There is no way for me to come nearer
except the blood. Let me think of it then, and let me see' its infinite value;
it is sufficient, let me hear its everlasting, ever-prevalent plea, and oh! then
I shall feel my soul drawn; for that which draws us nearer to God, and will draw
us right up to heaven, is none other than the crimson cord Of the Saviour's
endless, boundless, dying, but ever-living love.And this teaches me, and teaches
you, too, and here I have done, what it is we ought to preach and teach if we
would bring the, far-off ones in -- if we would bring near to God those that now
wander from him. Philosophy, bah! You will philosophize men into hell, but never
into heaven. Ceremonies you can amuse children, and you can degrade men into
idiots with them, but you can do nothing else. The gospel, and the essence of
that gospel, which is the blood of Jesus Christ -- it is this which is an
omnipotent leverage to uplift the filth, debauchery, and poverty of this city
into life, into light, and into holiness. There is no battering-ram that will
ever shake the gates of hell except that which every time it strikes sounds this
word, "Jesus, Jesus, the Crucified." "God forbid that we should glory, save in
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." If it will save us, it will save others;
only let us spread the good news, let us tell the good tidings. Every one of us
ought to preach the gospel somehow. You that speak in common conversation forget
not to speak of him. Scatter such tracts as are most full of Christ -- they are
the best; others will be of little use. Write letters concerning him. Remember
his name is like ointment, full of sweetness, but to get the perfume you must
pour it forth. Oh! that we could make fragrant all this neighbourhood with the
savour of that dear name! Oh! that wherever we dwell every one of us might so
think of Christ in our hearts that we could not help speaking of him with our
lips! Living, may we rejoice in him; dying, may we triumph in him. May our last
whisper on earth be what our first song shall be in heaven, "Worthy is the Lamb
that was slain and hath redeemed us unto God by his blood." Oh! I pray God to
make this season of communion very sweet to you, and I think it will be if you
have the key of our meditation to-night, and can unlock the door -- if you know
how far off you were, and see how near you are by the precious blood.Oh! there
are some far-off ones here to-night, however, to whom I must say just this word.
Far-off one, God can make you nigh; you can be made nigh to-night. Whoever you
may be, he is able still to save, but the blood must make you nigh -- the blood
of Jesus. Trust him. To believe is to live, and to believe means only and simply
to trust, to depend upon. That is faith. Have confidence in Christ's sacrifice,
and you are saved. God grant you may be enabled to do it, for Jesus' sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 5: A SOLEMN EMBASSY
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A Sermon (No.3497) Published on Thursday, February 3rd, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [5]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
26th February, 1871. "Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did
beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." -- 2
Corinthians 5:20. THERE has long been war between man and his Maker. Our federal
head, Adam, threw down the gauntlet in the garden of Eden. The trumpet was heard
to ring through the glades of Paradise, the trumpet which broke the silence of
peace and disturbed the song of praise. From that day forward until now there
has been no truce, no treaty between God and man by nature. Man has been at
variance with God. His heart has been at enmity towards God. He would not be
reconciled to God. Never in the heart of any natural man, unless divine grace
has put it there, has a desire to re-establish peace been felt or entertained.
If any of you long to be at peace with your Maker, it is because his spirit has
made you long for it. Left to yourselves, you would go from conflict to
conflict, from struggle to struggle, and perpetuate the encounter, until it
ended in your eternal destruction. But though man will not make terms with God,
nor sue for peace at his hands, God shows his unwillingness any longer to be at
war with man. That he anxiously desires man to be reconciled unto him, he proves
by taking the first step. He, himself, sends his ambassadors. He does not invite
them from the other party -- that were grace -- but he sends ambassadors, and he
commands those ambassadors to be very earnest, and to plead with men, to pray
them, to beseech them that they would be reconciled to God. I take this to be a
sure pledge that there is love in the heart of God. Why, at the very
announcement of these tidings, the rebellious sinner's ears should be opened! It
were enough to make him say, "I will hearken diligently; I will hear what God
the Lord shall speak, for if it be true that he takes the first step towards me,
and that he is willing to make up this deadly quarrel, God forbid that I should
turn away; I will even now hear and attend to all that God shall speak to my
soul. "May he bless the message to you, that you may be reconciled to him
without a moment's delay. John Bunyan puts it plainly enough." If a certain king
be besieging a town, and he sends out the herald with a trumpet to threaten the
inhabitants that, if they do not give up the town, he will hang every man of
them, then straightway they come to the walls and give him back a reviling
answer; they swear that they will fight it out, and will never surrender to such
a tyrant. But if he sends an embassage with a white flag to tell them that, if
they will but surrender and yield to their lawful king, he will pardon every one
of them, even the very vilest of them will relent." Then, saith honest John, "do
they not come trembling over the walls, and throw their gates wide open to
receive their gracious monarch." Would that such a result might be accomplished
to-night! While I speak of the great grace of this Prince of Peace, who now
sends his ambassadors to the rebellious, may some rebel say, "Then I will be at
peace with him; I will hold out no longer. So irresistible a love as this has
dissolved my heart, resolved my choice, and constrained my allegiance." Well
now, let us speak awhile of the Ambassadors -- the Commission with which they
are entrusted -- the duty they have to discharge -- and close with a question --
What then? First, then, we have to speak of: -- I. THE AMBASSADORS. Welcome
messengers are they! All nations, with one accord, have agreed to honour
ambassadors. Strange, then, that all nations and all people should have
conspired to dishonour the ambassadors of God! Which of God's ambassadors in the
olden time was not persecuted, rejected, or slain? Were they not stoned,
beheaded, sawn asunder? How continually they were maltreated, and made to wander
about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, though of them the world was not worthy!
But there have been some men to whom the ambassadors of God have always been
welcome. The men whom God had ordained to eternal life. Those on whose behalf,
from before all worlds, he had made an effectual covenant of peace. From them
the ambassadors get a hearty welcome. Standing here to preach as an ambassador,
I shall get but little attention from some of my audience. The proclamation of
mercy will sound commonplace to many. They will turn on their heel and say,
"There is nothing in it." But mark you, the ambassador of God will be very
welcome to some of you, who have bitterly felt your estrangement, to some whose
hearts are prepared by a sense of ruin for the good tidings of redemption; to
some in whom the secret mystery of predestination begins to work by the overt
energy of effectual calling. These shall find their souls greatly but surely
drawn to the proclamation of mercy that shall be made, and they will say, "How
beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of them that bring glad tidings of
peace, that publish salvation!"Ambassadors are always specially welcome to a
people who are engaged in a war which is beyond their strength, when their
resources are exhausted, and the peril of defeat is imminent. If some tiny
little principality has ventured to rebel against a great empire, when it is
absolutely certain that its villages will be consumed, its provinces, ravaged,
and that all its power will be crushed, ambassadors are pretty sure to receive a
cordial welcome. Ah! man, thou best bid defiance to the King of Heaven, whose
power is irresistible; by whom rocks are thrown down; whose voice breaketh the
cedars of Lebanon; whose hand controlleth the great deep sea. He it, is who
bindeth the clouds with a cord, and girdleth the earth with a belt! Angels that
excel in strength cannot stand against him. From the lofty battlements of heaven
he hurled down Satan, the great archangel, and the mighty host of rebellious
morning stars! How canst thou stand against him; shall the stubble contend with
the fire? Shall the potter's vessel resist the rod of iron? What art thou but a
moth, easily crushed beneath his finger! The breath is in thy nostrils, and that
is not thine own; how then canst thou, poor mortal, contend with him who only
hath immortality? With art thou but a moth, easily crushed beneath his finger!
Thy breath broken more rapidly than a sear leaf by the wind! How canst thou
venture to be at war with one who has heaven and earth at his command, who holds
the keys of hell and of death, and who has Tophet as his source of ammunition
against thee? Listen to his thunders, and let thy blood curdle! Let his
lightning flash, and how art thou amazed! How, then, canst thou stand against
the greatness of his power, or endure the terror of his wrath? Happy for thee
that terms of peace are proclaimed in your ears. God is willing to cease the
warfare; he would not have thee be his adversary. Wilt thou not gladly accept
what he proposeth to thee? Never, surely, was war more charged with disaster
than that into which thou hast madly rushed.An ambassador is always welcome when
the people have begun to feel the victorious force of the king. Yonder province
has already yielded. Certain cities have been taken by the sword and given up to
be sacked. Now the poor miserable inhabitants are glad enough to get peace. They
dread the foot of the conqueror now that they have felt its weight. Doubtless
there are some here present who have known the power of God in their conscience.
Perhaps he has soared you with visions, and frightened you with dreams. Though
it be but the voice of a man that you heard, yet the law has been very terrible
to you, and now you find no pleasure in your pleasure; no joy in your joys. God
has begun to break your bones with conviction; he has made you feel that sin is
a bitter thing; he has made you drunken with wormwood, and broken your teeth
with gravel stones. He has brought you down as the fool in the hundred and
seventh Psalm, by affliction and by labour, and you are crying out in anguish,
"God be merciful to me a sinner!" Ay, doubtless, you that have once felt the
weight of God's hand upon your conscience, will rejoice to hear that there is an
embassage of peace sent to you.An ambassador is likewise always welcome to those
who are labouring under a few of total and speedy destruction. If none of you
are in that plight, I remember when I was, when I thought every day it was a
marvel of mercies that I was kept alive, and wondered as I woke at morn that I
was not lifting up my eyes with Dives in hell. Everything about Christ was
precious to me then! I think I would have stood in the most crowded chapel, nor
would I have been weary had I sat upon the hardest seat; no length of service
would have wearied me, might I but have had an inkling that God would
peradventure have mercy upon my soul. My eyes were full of tears. My soul was
faint with watching, and I would have kissed the feet of any man who would have
told me the way of salvation. But, alas! it seemed as if no man cared for my
soul, till at last God blessed an humble instrument to give light to his poor
dark child. Hence I know that the news of mercy will be exceedingly welcome to
you who stand upon the jaws of hell, fearing that the gates will soon be bolted
upon you, and that you will be for ever lost. You will be ready to cry like our
Methodist friends, "Hallelujah! Glory! Hallelujah! Bless the Lord!" whilst you
hear that God still sends an embassage of peace to your soul. Most acceptable,
too, is a messenger of peace if the people know that he brings no hard terms.
When a certain king sent to the inhabitants of a town that he would make peace
with them, provided he put out their right eyes and cut off their right hands, I
am sure the tidings must have caused the utmost consternation, and the
ambassador could not be very popular. But there are no hard terms in the gospel.
In fact, there are no terms, no conditions at all. It is an unconditional peace
which God makes with men. It is a gospel which asks nothing of men, but gives
them everything. The Lord saith, "My oxen and my fatlings are killed; all things
are ready, come ye to the supper." There is nothing for man to get ready; all
things are prepared. The terms -- if I must use a word I do not like -- are
simple and easy. "Believe, and live." With what joy should a rebellious sinner
hear the voice of the ambassador who brings no hard conditions from God.And
should not the fame of the King increase the zest with which the embassage is
received? Comes it not from him who cannot lie! No temporary peace is proposed
that may presently be broken, but a peace that shall stand fast for ever and
ever. No temporary armistice, no brief interlude between the deeds of battle do
we herald. Peace; eternal, unbroken peace; peace that shall endure in life and
outlive death; peace which shall endure throughout eternity, we testify and make
known to you.This peace is proclaimed to all men. It is proclaimed without
exception." Whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved." None
are excluded hence but those who do themselves exclude. Such an ambassador
bringing such a message must surely be a welcome messenger from his God. Let us
ask now, What is: -- II. THE COMMISSION OF PEACE which God has entrusted us to
proclaim? The words are concise, the sense is transparent." To wit, that God was
in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespass unto
them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. "Let us open the
commission. It lies in a nutshell." Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, As I live,
saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but had
rather that he should turn unto me and live." "Come now, let us reason together,
saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as wool, though
they be red like crimson they shall be whiter than snow. Our commission begins
with the announcement that God is love, that he is full of pity and compassion,
that he is desirous to receive his creature back, that he willeth to forgive,
and that he electeth, if it be consistent with the high attribute of his
justice, to accept even the most rebellious, and to put them amongst his
children. Our commission goes on to disclose the manner, as well as the motive,
of mercy. Inasmuch as God is love, he, in order to remove all difficulties in
the way of pardoning rebels, has been pleased to give his only begotten Son that
he might stand in the room, place, and stead of those whom God has chosen; their
sins he engaged to take; to carry their sorrows, and to make an atonement on
their behalf. Thus the justice of God should be satisfied, and his love flow
over to the human race. We declare, therefore, that God has given Christ, and he
has made it a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that he came into
the world to save sinners, even the very chief. Christ, the Son of God, has
become man. Cheerfully and willingly he took upon himself our nature; veiled the
form of Deity in a humble garb of clay; was born of the Virgin Mary, lived a
life of holiness, and died a death of sacrifice. Through this marvellous death
of the Man, the God, Christ Jesus, God is at peace with his people. The peace is
made already, for he is our peace. God is at peace with every man for whom Jesus
died. Jesus Christ stood in the room, place, and steed of his chosen people.
Christ was punished for their sins. Justice cannot punish twice for one offense.
Christ, the substitute, being punished, the sinner cannot be amenable for his
own offences. Those for whom Jesus died go free. The proclamation is that God is
willing to be reconciled, that he is reconciled. It is an announcement, not that
you may have peace merely, but that peace is made with God by Jesus Christ for
you -- full peace, without condition, not half-made, but wholly made; the
penalty being completely paid to the last doit, and the sacrifice completely
slaughtered till the last drop of blood had expiated the last offence.But the
proclamation needs something more to give us any satisfaction. Are there any
tidings in it for you and me? Well, our message goes on to announce that
whosoever in the wide world will come to Jesus Christ, and commit his cause to
him as Redeemer, Saviour, and Friend, shall forthwith be at peace with God,
receive full pardon for all offences, and be welcomed as a favourite of the Most
High. He shall know that for him Jesus Christ did die in his stead, and as
surety did stand for him when he appeared before God. From condemnation he is,
therefore, free; of salvation he is, therefore, sure. This proclamation, I say,
is to be made universally. Though every man will not be blessed by it, the
preacher cannot discriminate between those who must and those who will not
inherit the blessing. Though only some will accept it, the preacher is not
warranted in showing any partiality. It is the Holy Spirit's work to impress the
Word on the conscience, and to arouse the conscience by the Word. As for us, we
are willing enough to turn our face to the north or to the south, to the east or
to the west. Gladly would we proclaim it to the red man who hunts the savannahs
of America, to the swarthy man who never heard the name of Christ before, or to
the white man who has often heard, but never heeded it. The same message, that
God has accepted Christ as a substitute for every man that will believe in
Christ, and that whosoever trusts Christ to save him is in that moment saved,
will suffice for all. Yea, we would tell them that before the sinner does trust
Christ he is reconciled unto God by his death, because the atonement which he
offered had been accepted, and there was peace forestalled between God and that
sinner. What a message I have to present! What a proclamation I have to make!
Nothing is necessary on your part. God expects nothing of you to merit his
esteem, or to enhance the value of his gift. If repentance be indispensable, he
is prepared to give it to you. If a tender heart be needed, he is ready to give
you a heart of flesh. If you feel that you have a heart of stone, be has engaged
to take it away. Does your guilt oppress you, he says, "I will sprinkle clean
water, water of pure fountains, upon them, and they shall be cleansed from all
their filthiness, and from all their uncleanness will I save them." Know, all
men, that there is no exception made. When Charles II came back to England there
was an amnesty, except for certain persons, and these were mentioned by name --
Hugh Peters and others were proscribed; but there is no exception here. I find
not any traitors singled out and denounced by name. I have to proclaim an
indemnity of such universal import that it is indiscriminate, "Whosoever
believeth on him shall never perish, but shall have everlasting life." Moreover,
there is no exception made in my commission to any form of sin -- unless it be
the sin against the Holy Ghost -- which carries its own evidence as well as its
consequence. Those to whom I now speak, if they feel any drawings of heart
towards God have not committed that mortal crime. Murder, theft, forgery,
felony, fornication, adultery, and covetousness, which is idolatry -- black and
hideous as is the catalogue -- here is pardon for the whole. Ransack the
kennels, however filthy; rake the slums, however odious; drag out the
abominations of the age, however degrading; here is pardon not only possible,
probable, but positive. Bring a man here who has stained himself crimson all
over with every sort of infamy, though it be not the lapse of an hour, but the
habit of a life, yet God is still able to forgive. Jesus Christ is able to save
to the uttermost them that come unto God by him.I do not know whether you find
it very good to hear the proclamation, but I do know that I feel it most
gratifying to utter it. Thrice happy am I to have such an announcement to make
to rebels. Unwonted hearers, listen to my voice. By what strange chance have yon
reckless, heedless, unconverted souls mingled with this throng of worshippers?
Not often do you darken the floor of a place of worship. You hardly know how you
were led to come in hither. To what depths of sin you have run, to what
extremities of iniquity you have gone! You marvel to find yourself in the
company of God's people. But since you are here, give heed to the message," Thus
saith the Lord, I have blotted out like a cloud thine iniquities, and like a
thick cloud thy sins. Return unto me, for I am married unto thee. I have given
my blood to redeem thee. Return, O wandering child of man; return, return, and I
will have mercy upon thee, for I am God, and not man." Having thus opened my
commission, I will endeavour to perform: -- III. A VERY SOLEMN DUTY.My text
supplies me with a warrant. It says, "As though God did beseech you by us, we
pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled unto God." Then it seems we have
not merely to read our commission, but we have to beseech you to accept it. Why
should we beseech you? Is it not because you are rational creatures, not
automata, men not machines. A machine might be compelled to perform functions
without persuasion, but the Spirit of God often acts upon the heart of man by
the sound arguments and affectionate entreaties of his servants whom he
commissions. We are to beseech you because your hearts are so hard that you are
prone to defy God's power, and resist his grace. Therefore, we pray you to put
down your weapons. We are to beseech you because you are unbelieving, and will
not credit the tidings. You say it is too good to be true that God will have
mercy on such as you are. Therefore, we are to put our hand on you, to go down
on our knees to you, and to beseech you not to put away this blessed embassy. We
are to beseech you because you are so proud and self-satisfied that you will
sooner follow your own righteousness and cling to your own works, than accept a
peace already and freely proffered to you. We are to beseech you because you are
careless. You give little heed to what is spoken: you will go your way and
forget all our proclamations; therefore, are we to press you urgently,
instantly, importunately, And to beseech you as when a mother pleadeth for her
child's life, as when a condemned criminal beseeches the judge to have pity on
him, so are we to beseech you. I think I never feel so conscious of my own
weakness as when I have to ply you thus with exhortations. Oh! there have been a
few times in my ministry when I could with flowing eyes beseech you to be
reconciled to God, but these dry eyes of mine are not so often fountains of
tears as I could wish. We need such an one as Richard Baxter to dilate upon this
last part of the text. Perhaps we could handle the former part better than he,
but he could handle this last far better than we can. Oh! how he would have
summoned you by the terrible reality of things to come! With what glaring eyes
and seething words he would say, "Oh! men, turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die? By
the need of a Saviour you will feel in the pangs of parting life, when the
pulsings shall be few and feeble, till with a gasp you shall expire; by the
resurrection when you will wake up, if not in his likeness, to everlasting shame
and contempt; by the judgment-seat, where your sins shall be published, and you
shall be called to account for the deeds done in the body; by the dread decree
which casteth into the pit for ever those that repent, not; by the heaven you
will lose:, and by the hell into which you will fall; by eternity, that dread
eternity whose years never waste; by the wrath to come, the burning indignation
of which shall never cool; by the immortality of your own souls, by the perils
you now run, by the promises you despise, by the provocations you multiply, by
the penalties you accumulate, we do beseech you to be reconciled to God." Fly to
Jesus. Call upon his name. Trust him; his word; his work, his goodness and his
grace. This is the way of reconciliation. Bow the knee and kiss the Son. We do
conjure you to do so. Acquaint yourselves now with God, and be at peace with
him. My text bangs like a crushing weight upon my soul at this moment. It is
awful in its grandeur, and it is majestically full of divine love. I must read
the words again in your hearing. Oh! that the sense might break in on your
understanding! We are to beseech you as though God did beseech you, and we to do
it in Christ's stead. You see God speaks when his ambassadors speak. I wonder,
oh! I wonder, whether I have brain enough to compass the thought of how God
would beseech you to be reconciled! 'Tis the Father's own self-pleading with his
prodigal son. Can you imagine the father in the parable going after his son, and
finding him in rags feeding swine? Can you conceive him saying, "My son, my dear
son, come back! come back and I will forgive you all!" You think you hear that
son saying to his father "Get you gone, I will not hear of it", till his father
says "My dear son, why will you prefer the company of swine to your father's
house? Why will you wear rags when you might be clothed in the best robe? Why
will you starve in a far-off country when my house shall be full of feasting on
your return?" What if that son should utter some indignant word, and tell his
father to his face he never would go back! Oh! I think I see the venerable,
loving man falling on his son's neck and kissing him, in his filth just as he is
(for "the great love wherewith he loved us when we were dead in trespasses and
sins!") -- and he says to the rebel that insults him and resents his tenderness,
"My dear son, you must come back; I must have you; I cannot be without you. I
must have you; come back!" In such a style we ought to plead with men. Ah! then,
I cannot plead with you as I would. As though God himself, your offended Maker,
came to you now as he did to Adam in the cool of the day, and said to you, "Oh!
return to me, for I have loved thee with an everlasting love," even so, as
though God spoke, would I woo you, ye chiefest sinners, to return to him. You
know, dear friends, that the great God did send another ambassador, and that
great ambassador was Christ. Now the Apostle says that we, the ministers, are
ambassadors for Christ in Christ's stead. Christ is no more an ambassador; he
has gone to heaven; we stand in his stead to the sons of men, not to make peace,
but to proclaim it. What! am I then to speak in Christ's stead! But how can I
picture my Lord Jesus standing here? Alas, my imagination is not equal to the
task. Would that I had sympathy enough with him to put myself in his case so as
to use his words. Methinks I see him looking at this great throng as once he
looked at the inhabitants of Jerusalem. He turns his head round to these
galleries, and about on yonder aisles, and at last he bursts into a flood of
tears, saying, "How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen
gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not." He is choked with
tears, and when he has paused a moment, he cries, "Come unto me all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest; take my yoke upon you and
learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your
souls; a bruised reed I will not break, nor quench the smoking flax."Again, I
think I see him, as he looks at you again, and when he observes some hearts so
obdurate and hard that they will not melt, he unwraps his mantle, and exclaims,
"See here." Do you mark the gash in his side? As he lifts his hands and shows
the nail-prints, and points downward to his pierced feet, he says, "By these, my
wounds, which I endured when suffering for you, O my people, return unto me;
come, bow at my feet, and take the peace which I have wrought out for you. Oh!
be not faithless, but believing! Doubt no longer! God is reconciled! Tremble no
more! Peace is established. Toil no more at the works of the law, cling not to
your own doings. Cease to consult your feelings. It is finished. When I bowed my
head upon the tree, I finished all for you. Take salvation: take it now! Come to
me; come now to me just as you are." Alas! this is but a poor representation of
my Lord and Master. I could wish myself laid among the clods of the valley,
sleeping in my grave, rather than that I should be so poor an ambassador. But,
Lord, wherefore didst thou choose thy servant, and why givest thou this people
still to hear his voice, if thou wilt not more mightily enable him to plead with
men. I have no more words, oh! let these, tears plead with you. I feel that I
could freely give my life if it would avail for the saving of your souls. Fain
would I meet a martyr's death, if you would be persuaded thereby to come to
Christ, for life. But oh! sinners, no pleading of mine will ever prevail if the
pleading of Christ prove ineffectual with you. To each one of you, a distinct
proclamation of salvation is addressed. Whosoever among you will believe that
Christ died, and that he is able to save you, and will trust your soul upon what
he did, shall be saved. Oh! why reject him? He will not hurt nor harm you. Do
lay hold of this good hope, for your time is short! Death is hastening on;
eternity is near! Do lay hold of it, for hell is hot, the, flames thereof are
terrible! Lay hold of it, for heaven is bright, and the harps of angels are
sweet beyond compare! Lay hold of it. It shall make your heart glad on earth, it
shall charm away your fears and remove your griefs! Lay hold of it! It shall
bear you through Jordan's billows, and land you safe on Canaan's side. Oh! by
the love of the Father, by the, blood of Jesus, by the love of the Spirit, I
beseech you, sinner, believe and live! By the cross and the five wounds, by the
agony and bloody sweat, by the resurrection, and by the ascension, sinner,
believe and live! By every argument that would touch your nature, by every
motive that can sway your reason or stir your passions, in the name of God that
sent me, by the Almighty that made you, by the Eternal Son that redeemed you, by
the gift of the Holy Spirit, sinner, I command you, with divine authority to
sanction my vehemence, that ye be reconciled to God through the death of his
Son! And: -- IV. WHAT THEN?When we have answered this question we shall have
done. What then? Are there not some of you with whom this peace is made at this
good hour? I will go back and tell my Master so. Then there shall be fresh
ratifications between you and him. The angels will hear of it, and they will
strike their harps anew to sweeter lays than they have known before.Others there
are of you that will not be reconciled. I must have an answer from you. Do you
hesitate? Do you delay? Do you refuse? You shall never have another warning,
some of you! No tears of pity shall be wept for you again; no loving heart shall
ever bid you come to Christ again must have your answer now. Yes or no. Wilt
thou be damned or not? Wilt thou be saved or not? I will not have thee say,
"When I have a more convenient season I will send for thee." Sinner, it cannot
be a more convenient one than this. This is a convenient place; it is God's
house. It is a convenient time; it is the Lord's day. Now, sinner, wilt thou be
reconciled, restored, forgiven? "Wilt thou be made whole?" said Jesus, and I say
the same to thee, "Wilt thou be made whole?" Do you say, "No"? Must I take that
for an answer? Mark you, sinner, I have to tell my Master must tell him when I
seek the closet of the King to-night; I must tell him your reply that you would
not. What then remains for an ambassador to do when he has spoken to you in the
name of the Sovereign? If you will not turn, we must shake off the dust of our
feet against you. I am clear, I am clear, of the blood of you all, I am clear.
If you perish, being warned, you perish wantonly. The wrath cometh upon you, not
on him who, to the best of his power, has told his Master's message. Yet again,
I beg you to accept it. Do you still say no? The white flag will be pulled down.
It has been up long enough. Shall I pull it down, and run up the red flag now?
Shall I hurl threatenings at you because you heed not entreaties?"If your ears
refuseThe language of his grace,And hearts grow hard like stubborn Jews,That
unbelieving race,The Lord in anger drest,Shall lift his trend and swearYe that
despised my promised restShall have no portion there."But no, I cannot pull it
down, that white flag! My heart will not let me do so; it shall fly there still,
it shall fly there as a sign and a symbol of the day of grace. Mercy is still
held out to you. But there is one coming -- I can hear his footsteps -- who will
pull down that white flag. The vision haunts my eyes. That grim, heartless
skeleton whom men call Death will rend the white flag from its place, and up
will go the blood-red flag, with the black escutcheon of the thunderbolts. Where
are you then, sinners? Where will you be then? You shudder at the thought. He
lays his hand on you. There is no escape. Oh! turn ye, turn ye, turn ye! Come
and welcome, sinner, come now while you are welcome. 'Tis love invites you.
Jesus stretches out his hand to you all the day long. He has stretched out his
hands to a rebellious, and a gainsaying generation. Do not say, "I will think of
it," but yield to his love who around you now the bands of a man doth cast. Do
not make a resolution, but commit yourself to the good confession. Now, even
now, may sovereign grace constrain, and irresistible love draw you. May you
believe with your heart, may you record your profession at once. Before you
close your eyes in sleep, just as you would wish before your eyes are closed in
death, may you be at peace with God. I pray God, as I entreat you, that this may
come to pass, for his Son, Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 6: GOD'S GENTLE POWER
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A Sermon (No.3498) Published on Thursday, February 10th, 1916. Delivered by C.
H. SPURGEON, At [6]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day
Evening, September 10th, 1871. "And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and
strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord,
but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire, but the
Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so.
when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and
stood in the entering in of the cave. And behold, there came a voice unto him,
and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?" -- 1 Kings 19:11-13. ELIJAH was a man
of like passions with ourselves. We all know that when we have passed through
any great excitement of high joy there almost always comes following, a
corresponding reaction and depression. Elijah had gone to the top of Carmel and
had pleaded his cause, and the rain floods had come in answer to his prayer He
had taken the prophets of Baal, and had slain them, and gained a glorious
victory for his God; and so full of excitement was he that he girded his loins
as though he had been a young man, and ran before the chariot of Ahab, like the
royal footmen. It was almost inevitable that after an excitement so high, and
strong, that he should be desponding and depressed in spirits, and we find that
he was so depressed. If the like should ever happen to any of you' my brethren
and sisters, count it no strange thing, nor suppose that some extraordinary
trial hath happened unto you. It is but a physical result from physical causes.
The mind has operated upon the body. It has strung the bow too tightly, and now,
unless the string be relaxed, there is a danger of its breaking altogether. Now
as Elias was a man of like passions with us, we may conclude that the way in
which God dealt with him is very much the way in which he would deal with us.
With a similar case, and the same physician, we may look for the same treatment.
As, therefore, the Lord spake to Elijah not by earthquake, nor wind, nor fire,
but by the still small voice, so in all probability will he speak to us. It may
be, it is just possible it may be, that here to-night there is some worker for
God very much in the same condition as Elijah. You, my dear brother, have been
working for God in a neighbourhood where you have met with little but opposition
and disappointment, and you have almost resolved that you will go away from the
place. "The soil is hard," you say, "and breaks the ploughshare. Shall oxen
plough upon a rock?" 'Tis in vain for you to continue your labour there, you.
think, and you have come here to-night still with this thought uppermost -- that
you have laboured in vain, and spent your strength for nought. Hear you the word
of the Lord this night. He speaks not to you by any earthquake of judgment with
which he means to visit you, neither by any fiery word of severe rebuke; but
perhaps through me, this evening, he may speak with a still small voice that
shall just meet your case and send you back to your labour. Brother, will you
play the Jonahs Will you refuse to go to tile great city -- to Nineveh? Remember
there are worse places than Nineveh. He that goes out of the path that God marks
for him may yet come to be at the bottom of the sea with Jonah, with the weeds
wrapped about his head. You go at your own cost, remember, if you go away frown
the post of duty, however arduous. Don't attempt the risk. But thus saith the
Lord unto thee, "It may be thou hast not laboured in vain as thou hast
supposed." Elijah knew nothing of the seven thousand men that God had in
reserve. You don't know what converts God has given you. There are scattered up
and down the world -- perhaps some precious ones who owe their salvation
instrumentally to you, and could they all stand before you -- you would blush
with shame at the thought of leaving a harvest -- field that has really been so
prolific, though not in your sight. Go back again to thy work, for the Lord has
blessed thee. Play not the fool by deserting the post where he will give thee
honour yet. But then the voice told Elijah also that God would punish the people
who had treated him so ill; that he, would send Hazael with his sharp sword and
Jehu, yet to mow the ground a second time. And oh! thou true servant of God, the
Lord will not suffer thee to be rejected. If they have rejected thee, they have
rejected thy God also. If thou hast been faithful to his truth, leave thou that
matter to him -- go thou back to thy work. And one other word there was to
Elijah. He was to go back to anoint his successor. If Elijah flees, and if
Elijah at length is taken up to heaven, yet Elisha shall succeed him. Perhaps
there may be a brother here who is in the state I have described who does not
know what God has in store for him. You are to call into the Christian ministry
a brother that shall do greater than you have, you shall light as greater candle
shall your own. Oh! what joy Elijah must have had when he felt there would be
someone to take up his work! You have not, my dear brother, yet called out for
your master the man the Lord means to call. What a happy man he must have been
who was the means of the conversion of Whitefield or Jonathan Edwards, or some
great missionary of the cross. You may be that, in that little village -- in
that back slum. Go thou back then. What doest thou hero Elijah? What doest thou
here? With whom hast thou left those few sheep in the wilderness? The Master's
voice speaks to thee. Go to thy closet, and get fresh strength from on high, and
then go back to thy difficulties -- go back to thy self-denials, go back to all
thy service with a good heart and true."Fear not thou worm Jacob; I will help
thee, saith the Lord." Arise, thou worm, and thresh the mountain, for "I will
make thee a new sharp threshing instrument having teeth." I have delivered the
message. It is to somebody, I know not to whom, in this place. But now the
drift, the great aim of the sermon at this time is to speak to the unconverted.
With them I dealt also this morning. I feel persuaded God will bless it. Now,
this evening, let us have another word with them. We will read the text again.
"Behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and
brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and
after the wind an earthquake. but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after
the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a
still small voice." Our first observation is that: -- I. POWERFUL MEANS MAY
ALTOGETHER FAIL TO IMPRESS SOME MINDSLet us think a while. Terrible judgments
appear as if they must convert sinners; yet there may be those here, and there
certainly are those in many places who have passed through a whole series of
judgments, and are rather hardened than softened by them. You may have been,
dear friend in a storm of sin; you may have been just barely washed upon a rock,
and escaped as with the skin of your teeth. You have also passed through a time
of cholera. You have been in a city smitten with the plague. You have lived in a
house where others have sickened and died; and at those times you did pause a
little, and you made some good resolutions, but they all ended in smoke; and
here you are still, a proof that God is not in the earthquake, nor yet in the
wind, nor yet in the fire. It may be you have suffered a great deal of personal
sickness. Do I not know some here present who have been laid very low with fever
-- who have been the subjects of very frightful accidents, and brought to the
borders of the grave? These things were loud voices to you, but you did not hear
them. They were God's terrors, sent to fetch you to himself, but they failed to
do it. You remained just where you were, perhaps worse instead of better; for
when the sun shines on wax, it melts it, but if it shines on clay, it hardens
it; and so God's judgments have had just that effect on you. You are hardened,
instead of softened by them. Men are not converted by judgments. They may submit
themselves in a false way, but power and displays of terror do not win the
heart.Again, we naturally expect that men will be converted during the times of
earnest religious excitement. Some are brought in; but there are certain persons
who do not seem to be affected by revivals. When others bow like the corn that
waveth in the wind, they stand stiff and firm, and are altogether untouched. It
is a solemn thing when a season of grace is not a season of grace to us. When we
lie, like Gideon's fleece, all dry, while all around us is wet with the dew of
heaven, yet with some it is just so -- gracious excitements and spiritual
revivals do not touch them. The Lord is not in the wind, and the Lord is not in
the earthquake, and the Lord is not in the fire-at least to them. The same is
the case with powerful sermons. I do not mean by this "eloquent sermons," so
called. "Eloquent sermons" usually seem to me to be the least eloquent things in
the world; for eloquence means speaking from the heart; and I cannot believe
that the fine periods we sometimes hear read ever spring anywhere but from the
head. But I mean when a sermon is full of gospel truth, when it is pertinently
put, when it is pathetically urged, when the heart of the preacher is warmed,
and his eyes o'erflow with tears; when you see a congregation melted, you say to
yourself, "Surely that must touch so-and-so's heart." And then there comes a
passage in the sermon that seems so touching that the very rocks might weep, and
the stones might break; but oh! when it is all over it is all over, and it is
forgotten too; and to many a hearer the Lord is not in the wind, nor in the
earthquake, nor in the fire. And so it is also in the dealing out of the
judgments of God in the ministry. It is the duty of the Christian pastor, if he
would make full proof of his ministry, to warn men of the results of sin -- to
tell them that there is a judgment -- that for every idle word they speak they
will have to account. We ought continually to declare that for every
transgression there shall be a recompense of reward. But ah! dear hearer, though
we have read books and heard sermons that were full of the terrors of the Lord,
which we thought surely would move men, yet there are men who care nothing
whatever about the wrath to come, nor the fire that is kindled for the wicked,
nor the dreadful terrors of Divine Justice. The Lord is not in the wind, nor in
the earthquake, nor in the fire, so far as they are concerned. The means that
appear to be powerful are powerless to them; and when you think they will surely
turn and repent, they harden their necks and go on in their sin. This, abundant
facts could prove.But the next observation shall be that sometimes a much
gentler force effects what could not otherwise have been achieved. Many have
been converted to God by the still small voice whom no wind, though it rose to a
hurricane, no earthquake, though it rent the world to its centre, and no fire,
though it licked up the forests, could ever move. A gentle word has done it.
Sometimes that still small voice has come to us by apparently very, very
inadequate means. It is astonishing what little things God will use when he
pleases to do so. He wanted to soften the heart of that rough prophet Jonah, and
he sent a worm and a gourd, and they did it. He would bring Peter to repentance,
and he bade a cock to crow. It was a strange preacher, but it was as good as a
dean of a cathedral to the Apostle. Means may seem to be absolutely ridiculous,
yet God maketh use of the things that are not, as though they were. I remember
to have heard the story of a man, a blasphemer, profane, an atheist, who was
converted singularly by a sinful action of his. He had written on a piece of
paper, "God is nowhere," and bade his child read it, for he would make his child
an atheist too. And the child spelt it, "God is n-o-w h-e-r-e-God is now here."
It was a truth, instead of a lie, and the arrow pierced the man's own heart. I
remember one who had lived a life of gross iniquity who stepped into Exeter Hall
and found Christ there. It was not my sermon, however, that God blessed: it was
only this. I read the hymn, "Jesus, lover of my soul." Just those words touched
his heart. "Jesus, lover of my soul," he said to himself. "Did Jesus love my
soul? Then how is it that I could have lived as I have done?"; and that word
broke him down. God works great results by little things. A little hymn learnt
at the Sunday School is sung at home by a little prattler, and the heart of the
father is softened by it. One little sentence uttered by a friendly visitor
reaches a mother's conscience and impresses her heart. Ay, and God can use the
quiet of the evening, or the stillness of the night, or a flash of lightning, or
a peal of thunder, or a dewdrop, or a little flower -- he can use anything he
wills to bring his banished. home. Often cloth the Spirit speak thus with a
still small voice. But, brethren, beloved, the Holy Ghost also speaks to men
without any means at all. With no outward agency whatever, the still small voice
will come. Oh! how I wish it would come to-night to some sitting here listening
to the preacher! I wish you could forget -- forget the congregation, and forget
everything except yourself and your God. We have known persons who have been
walking in the fields, thoughtless and careless. All around has been still, and
they have suddenly thought, and thought is often the avenue to prayer. We have
known some passing through a country churchyard, and though no text upon the
tomb how touched them, yet the very sight of those green hillocks has been a
sermon to them. Aye, and men have walked through orchards, and the leaves have
said to them, "We all do fade as a leaf." Or sitting in their chamber, or lying
on their bed wakeful, the old times have come over again. The man that lives to
be an old sinner recollects the little prayer he said at his mother's knee. The
soldier that has been at battle recollects the teaching of the Sunday School,
though he has passed now his fiftieth year; and he says, "I wish I could blot
out all that which lies between my mother's kiss and this hour. It has been a
dark, dark season." Only the thought has done it. God's Spirit did but touch the
secret spring, and the soul was moved aright. The still small voice has done it.
Oh! how satisfied I should be if the Lord would not give me a single soul in
this place by my preaching, if he would but do it himself! What matters it so
long as they are saved? He does put honour upon his preached word, and he brings
in the most of men thereby; but so long as they are brought in, and he gets
glory, what will it signify as to the means he uses? May he still speak to you
by his still small voice. I commend to him in my earnest prayer some of you who
are very familiar with my voice, and to whom it is as useless as familiar. You
will never be brought to Christ by me. God will never give me your souls I fear.
For these many years have I laboured for them, and they have not been given me.
Well, good Master, call them by some other means, only bring then; and grant
that this very night, conscience may be aroused by thoughts which thou thyself
shalt suggest, and they may come to thee.You see, then, the first two points,
that the most powerful means will often fail, and that the least means may be
successful. Ay, and the Holy Ghost may work without means altogether. And now
once again: -- II. WHEN GOD SPEAKS TO MEN, HIS VOICE IS ALWAYS LINKED WITH
PERSONAL ADDRESS.Look at the text. What says the still small voice? "What doest
thou here Elijah?" There was the man named. It was no general statement about
prophets who proved faithless, or about believers who grew doubtful, or about
men of courage that played the coward. Oh! no; it was, "What doest thou here,
Elijah?" It is a mark of God's Spirit that when he speaks to men he speaks to
them personally. Just take a case or two. You remember Jesus Christ going
through Jericho, preaching as he went. He meant to call that rich publican who
had climbed the tree. In what way did the effectual voice of grace do it? He
says, "Zaccheus" It was not a general observation about people up in trees that
were to come down; but "Zaccheus" -- that is the man. "Zaccheus, make haste and
come down, for to-day I must abide in thy house." The personal call did it. And
Mary, when she did not know her Master, and was in the garden, and thought he
was the gardener -- what was it that opened her eyes to know her Lord, and made
her say, "Rabboni"? It was no word else except that he said unto her, "Mary."
The tone in which he said it, and the name -- the old familiar name, Mary --
that did the work. And when the Saviour meant to break Simon Peter's heart, and
yet to assure him that he was forgiven, how did he speak to him? Three times he
said to him, "Simon, son of Jonas. Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" This is
how God speaks to men. And when out of the open heavens Jesus spake to the
maddened persecutor who was on the road to Damascus, but whom he meant to make
his elect apostle to the Gentiles, how did he speak but thus? "Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks." Now here I
cannot speak except to the crowd and the congregation, and though one labours
hard to make a description apt and plain, and to fit the cap to all wearers'
heads, yet men slip through in the crowd; they will not take it to themselves,
nor can we make them. But when the Holy Ghost speaks with the still small voice,
it is always, "Thou art the man. Thou art the man. Thou art the sinner
condemned. Thou art the sinner invited to mercy. Thou art the sinner that shall
be received by grace." Believe thou, and thou shalt be saved, for he loves thee
and gave himself for thee. May the Lord send us such personal work as this. I
know every Christian here, if he could state his experience, would tell you that
the word never came with power to his soul until it came right to him as though
he were the only sinner, and the gospel were meant for him above all others. Oh!
for an arrow from the great archer's bow to go right into you, that, like a stag
that is smitten by the archer, you might retire into the glades of the forest,
to weep alone and die alone, unless the hand that sent in the dart shall gently
draw it out and heal the wound that it has made! Oh! for this personal
conviction! -- conviction of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment laid home to
each man's heart. It must be so, or you cannot be saved. But now another truth
is suggested by the text. It is this, that: -- III. WHEN GOD'S STILL SMALL VOICE
SPEAKS TO MEN PERSONALLY, THE SUBJECT IS THEMSELVES AND THEIR ACTIONS."What
doest thou here, Elijah?" This was the voice of God. May the same voice come
to-night to some here about their actions. Let me take the text and use it to
you. What are you doing? What doest thou? What have you been doing? You are
getting on in life. What have you done? Mischief I fear. What good have you
done? You were made to glorify God, that was the end for which you were created.
Have you glorified him? You have been fed by him, clothed by him. Have you made
him any return? What have you done? No good -- much evil. What are you doing
now? Sitting here and listening. Ay, but how are you treating the Word? Are you
receiving it? Do you hear the voice of mercy, and do you reject it, or will you
accept it? What are you going to do? What are you going to do to-night when you
get out of this place? How will the last hours of the precious Sabbath be spent?
And to-morrow, and the next day -- what are you planning? Is there anything holy
in it, anything noble in it, anything that will be glorifying to God? Do you
never take stock? Spiritual trader, do you never take stock? Mariner upon the
sea of life, cost thou never consult thy chart? Dost thou never heave the lead,
or take thy bearings? Art thou so mad as to sail on in the fog, and not care
what becomes of so goodly a vessel as thy soul? Oh! pause. What hast thou done?
What art thou doing? What wilt thou do? Especially what wilt thou do in the
swellings of Jordan? Unsaved, what will you do when the death-sweat stands upon
your brow -- when the cold beaded drops are there, and the marrow is frozen, and
the strong man gathers up his feet in the bed for the last dread struggle --
what will you do without a Saviour? What will you do when the trumpet rings
through heaven and earth, and sea, and men live again, and you, with them, stand
before the judgment-seat, and amidst the rolling thunder the book is opened and
your sins stand there unforgiven? What will you do? What will you do? Oh! that
you may never be brought to this, but be brought to Christ to-night! Do you
notice how the word was put? It was not, "What are you doing?" only, but "What
doest thou -- thou, Elijah?" And there are some special persons whose sins
receive an aggravation by the very fact that they are what they are. I know thee
-- what thou west of old. What a sweet child. How his mother loved him, and
loved to hear him sing, and pray, too, in his way. What happiness it was to the
parents! Ah! they fell asleep and died, and 'tis a mercy they did, else perhaps
your course would have brought them to the grave with grief. What doest thou,
child of many prayers and many tears? What doest thou? Still to be an enemy to
thy mother's God, and to blaspheme the name they father loved. You have been
hearers of the gospel, some of you almost ever since you can recollect. Your
mother carried you in her arms to God's house, and sometimes conscience has
pricked you, and the word has gone through, and through, and through; but you
have resisted it. What has led you, I pray you, to remain still what you are?
What infernal power has helped you to steel your heart? In what fire has your
soul been annealed to make it hard as adamant stone? O soul, soul, sinful soul,
delaying, procrastinating soul! what doest thou in such a states after so much
love and mercy? And I might speak to some that promised fair many times, and
that have been almost persuaded to be Christians, and yet still are out of God,
and out of Christ, and on the borders of destruction. What do you here? Perhaps
there is someone who has come to London lately, that in the country was an
observer of religion, apparently sincere, but oh! this wicked London! You have
given up those good habits; you -- have got into bad company, and oh! I shall
not tell what you have done; but I hope you will confess it to God in your own
secrecy. But how dare you do it? How could you do its Oh! how could you do it?
How could you be a prodigal? -- you, your fathers dearly beloved, taught so
well, with so much light, with such a tender conscience -- how could you sin?
Why the very tramps of the street might be ashamed of you, for they never knew
much better. Those that go into foulest sin might condemn you, for with their
bad street training, educated perhaps in the kennel, who wonders that they are
what they are? But for you, it is a wonder. The angel Lucifer, son of the
morning, fell down to the deeps of hell. You have fallen from the side of the
pulpit, fallen from a Christian parent's side, and almost from inside the Church
of God, and fallen into sin. Perhaps I speak to some that have belied their
baptism, have given up the profession that they made when they there were buried
with Christ, who have belied the sacramental table where they once sat, and
professed to eat his bread and drink of his cup, and to be partakers of his body
and of his blood. You have crucified the Lord afresh, and put him to an open
shame. "What doest thou here, Elijah?" My, and you used to preach too; you used
to preach to others, and now what are you? You were once, as it were, a priest
at the altar of God, and now you are a priest at the altars of Baal. God have
mercy upon you, and may his still small voice now speak in your soul. There was
one point in the question which was asked, which was this: "What doest thou
here?" Each man, when he is called to search himself by the Spirit of God, must
recollect his surroundings. I thank God, my brethren and my sisters, that you
are hearers -- not to commend you that you may be Pharisees, because you happen
to go to a place of worship. I do, nevertheless, praise God that you are here.
When the sick lay round the Pool of Bethesda, there was some hope of their being
healed. You are favoured in being where Christ is preached; but what doest thou
here? Did you come to find a jest? Did you come to hear one who was much talked
of in your hearing? Did you come from curiosity? Did you come from a worse
motive? Well, never mind, but what are you doing now? Are you willing to listen
to God's voice? Will you now yield? He round you now, as with the bands of a
man, would cast the bands of his love, who was given for you, and to his altar
bind you fast. 'Tis but to yield; and surely it must be hard to resist when it
is divine mercy that plies you, and eternal love that persuades you. "Come unto
me," says Jesus; "come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest." Will you not come? "Whosoever will, let him come and take
the water of life freely. " Will you not come? Oh! that your answer to the
question, "What doest thou here? " might be to-night, " I am doing this here; I
am laying my sins on Jesus; I am confessing the past; I am asking grace for the
future; I am looking to the wounds of him that was cleft as a rock is cleft that
I may shelter in him; I am saying, 'God be merciful to me a sinner."' Thy God be
praised if such is the case. But I must close with the last observation, and
that is, that: -- IV. WHERE THE LORD DOES SPEAK WITH A STILL SMALL VOICE TO MEN
PERSONALLY ABOUT THEIR CONDUCT AND THEIR SIN, IT IS ALWAYS EFFECTUAL.You notice
what Elijah did. He first wrapped his mantle about his face -- he became subdued
and awe-stricken -- full of reverence. Oh! it is a great thing when a sinner is
willing to wrap his face when he is confounded, and say, "I cannot defend my
course; I am guilty." We know that if at our judgment-seat a man pleads guilty,
he is punished; but at the judgment-seat of the gospel whoever pleads guilty is
forgiven. Wrap your face. Oh! but you thought that you were better than most;
you went to church, and you went to the meeting-house, the chapel, regularly,
and were you not better than others? Ah! wrap your face. Your church-goings and
your chapel-goings have only increased your responsibilities if you have
rejected the Saviour. Take the mantle of self humiliation, and wrap it about
your face now. Say, with the leper, "Unclean! Unclean!" Where you are in the
Tabernacle, where you are, never mind where you stand or sit, I commend to you
the publican's prayer. Say it now, and God help you, "God be merciful to me a
sinner." Did you say it from your heart? Go home. You shall go home to your
house justified, for he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.But you must
notice that while Elijah thus wrapped his face in reverence, he stood still and
listened. It was a still small voice, and the prophet was attending. No other
sound was heard but this, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" But he stood. I doubt
not that man of iron stood and wept, and seemed to say in his soul, "Speak,
Lord, for thy servant heareth." "He that bath earn to hear, let him hear." Oh!
be very attentive to the voice of God s Spirit! If you have only a half of a
good thought, take care of it. It may be the beginning of another one. Oh! if
you have only just got a little leaning, thank God for it. Remember Christ does
not quench the smoking flax; don't quench it yourself. "Quench not the Spirit."
Oh! I have known times when I would have given my whole life to have had one
tear of repentance. Can you repent now? Can you long after God now? Oh! cherish
that longing! Yield to the Spirit of God. Don't be like iron to the fire that
needs to have the blast-furnace on it before it will melt; but oh! be like wax
to the flame, like cork on the water that moves up and down with every
influence. God make you so. It wants a strong wind to shake the oak; but the
fern that grows under it waves its branches at every breath of the zephyr. May
you be just as sensitive as that. Bow before the Spirit's influence. The Lord
make you to do it for his name's sake.And then, best of all and last of all, the
prophet was not only reverent, humble, and attentive, but he was obedient. God
told him to go and do this and that. He never questioned, but away he went and
executed the divine commission, and until the time when he was taken up in the
chariot of fire Elijah never quailed again. The still small voice had made him
twice a man, and steeled him once again to bear all that he had to endure in his
chequered life. He was obedient to the heavenly vision. Will you be obedient
to-night?" If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land."
May God make you to be obedient. But you say, "What is his command then? What is
the work of God-this great work that God commands? This is the one gospel
precept, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved"; or take it
in the shape in which the Master put it, "He that believeth and is baptized,
shall be saved." To believe is to trust. To be baptized is to be immersed into
Christ -- immersed in water upon profession of faith, for so it is put, and I
dare not give you half the gospel. So it is put, "He that with his heart
believeth, and with his mouth maketh confession of him, shall be saved." Don't
leave out any part of the divine command. Be obedient to the whole of it.
"Believe and be baptized," or as the Apostle put it, " Repent, and be baptized,
every one of you." May God grant that you may be obedient to this. The great
command is, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. "Trust in him -- in his
substitutionary work for sinners. He bore their guilt, and was punished in their
stead, and whosoever trusts in what he did -- in a word, trusts in him, is
saved. God grant you to do it. I leave it to his still small voice to work this
blessed result. Amen. * Light for those who sit in darkness. Metropolitan
Tabernacle Pulpit, 1,010.


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  CHAPTER 7: THE BLISS OF THE GLORIFIED
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A Sermon (No.3499) Published on Thursday, February 17th, 1916. Delivered by C.
H. SPURGEON, At [7]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day
Evening, August 13th, 1871. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more,
neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat." -- Revelation 7:16. WE
cannot too often turn our thoughts heavenward, for this is one of the great
cures for worldliness. The way to liberate our souls from the bonds that tie us
to earth is to strengthen the cords that kind us to heaven. You will think less
of this poor little globe when you think more of the world to come. This
contemplation will also serve to console us for the loss, as we call it, of
those who have gone before. It is their gain, and we will rejoice in it. We
cannot have a richer source of consolation than this, that they who have fallen
asleep in Christ have not perished; they have not lost life, but they have
gained the fullness of it. They are rid at all that molests us here, and they
enjoy more than we as yet can imagine. Cheer your hearts, ye mourners, by
looking up to the gate of pearl, by looking up -- to those who day without night
surround the throne of their Redeemer. It will also tend to quicken our
diligence if we think much of heaven. Suppose I should miss it after all! What
if I should not so run that I may obtain! If heaven be little, I shall be but a
little loser by losing it; but if it be indeed such that the half could never be
told us, then, may God grant us diligence to make our calling and election sure,
that we may be certain of entering into this rest, and may not be like the many
who came out of Egypt, but who perished in the wilderness and never entered into
the promised land. All things considered, I know of no meditation that is likely
to be more profitable than a frequent consideration of the rest which remaineth
for the people of God. I ask, then, for a very short time that your thoughts may
go upward to the golden streets. And, first, we shall think a little of the
blessedness of the saints as described in the simple words of our text; then we
will say a few words as to how they came by that felicity; and thirdly, draw
some practical lessons from it. First, then, we have here: -- I. A DESCRIPTION
OF THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE GLORIFIED. We have not the full description of it
here; but we have here a description of certain evils from which they are free.
You notice they are of two or three kinds -- first, such as originate within --
"They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more" -- they are free from
inward evils; secondly, such as originate without -- "Neither shall the sun
light on them, nor any heat." They are altogether delivered from the results of
outward circumstances. Take the first: "They shall hunger no more, neither
thirst any more." We are never so to strain Scripture for a spiritual sense as
to take away its natural sense, and hence we will begin by saying this is no
doubt to be understood physically of the body they will have in glory. Whether
there will be a necessity for eating and drinking in heaven, we will not say,
for we are not told, but anyhow it is met by the text, "The Lamb that is in the
midst of the throne shall feed them" -- if they need food -- "and lead them to
living fountains of water" if they need to drink. Whatever may be the
necessities of the future, those necessities shall never cause a pang. Here, the
man who is hungry may have to ask the question, "What shall I eat?"; the man who
is thirsty may have to say, "What shall I drink?"; and we have all to ask,
"Wherewithal shall we be clothed?" But such questions shall never arise there.
They are abundantly supplied. Children of God have been hungry here: the great
Son of God, the head of the household was hungry before them; and they need not
wonder if they have fellowship with him in this suffering. Children of God have
had to thirst here: their great Lord and Master said, "I thirst"; they need not
wonder, therefore, if in his affliction they have to take some share. Should not
they who are to be like their head in heaven be conformed unto him on earth? But
up yonder there is no poverty, and there shall be no accident that shall place
them in circumstances of distress. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst
any more."While we take this physically, there is no doubt that it is to be
understood mentally. Our minds are also constantly the victims of hungerings and
thirstings. There are on earth various kinds of this hunger and thirst -- in a
measure evil, in a measure also innocent. There are many men that in this world
are hungering after wealth, and the mouth of avarice can never be filled. It is
as insatiable as the horse-leech, and for ever cries, "Give, give!" But such
hunger was never known in heaven, and never can be, for they are satisfied
there; they have all things and abound. All their enlarged capacities can desire
they already possess, in being near the throne of God and beholding his glory;
there is no wealth which is denied them. Here, too, some of the sons of men
hunger after fame, and oh! what have not men done to satisfy this? It is said
that breaks through stone walls; certainly ambition has done it. Death at the
cannon's mouth has been a trifle, if a man might win the bubble reputation. But
in heaven there is no such hunger as that Those who once had it, and are saved,
scorn ambition henceforth. And what room would there be for ambition in the
skies? They take their crowns and cast them at their Saviour's feet. They have
their palm-branches, for they have won the victory, but they ascribe the
conquest to the Lamb, their triumph to his death. Their souls are satisfied with
his fame. The renown of Christ has filled their spirit with everlasting
contentment. They hunger no more, nor thirst any more, in that respect. And oh!
what hunger and thirst there has been on earth by those of tender and large
heart for a fit object of love! I mean not now the common thing called "love,"
but the friendship which is in man's heart, and sends out its tendrils wanting
something to which to cling. We must -- we are born and created for that very
purpose -- we must live together, we cannot develop ourselves alone. And
oftentimes a lonely spirit has yearned for a brother's ear, into which to pour
its sorrows; and doubtless many a man has been brought to destruction and been
confined to the lunatic asylum whose reason might have been saved had there been
some sympathetic spirit, some kind, gentle heart that would have helped to bear
his burden. Oh! the hunger and the thirst of many a soul after a worthy object
of confidence. But they hunger and they thirst, up there, no more. Their love is
all centred on their Saviour. Their confidence, which they reposed in him on
earth, is still in him. He is their bosom's Lord, their heart's Emperor, and
they are satisfied, and, wrapped up in him, they hunger and they thirst no
more.And how many young spirits there are on earth that are hungering after
knowledge who would fain get the hammer and break the rock, and find out the
history of the globe in the past. They would follow philosophy, if they could,
to its source, and find out the root of the matter. Oh! to know, to know, to
know! The human mind pants and thirsts for this. But there they know even as
they are known. I do not know that in heaven they know all things -- that must
be for the Omniscient only -- but they know all they need or really want to
know; they are satisfied there. There will be no longer searching with a spirit
that is ill at ease. They may, perhaps, make progress even there, and the
scholar may become daily more and more wise; but there shall never be such a
hungering and thirsting as to cause their mental faculties the slightest pang.
They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more. Oh! blessed land where the
seething ocean of man's mind is hushed, and sleeps in everlasting calm! Oh!
blessed country where the hungry spirit, that crieth every hour for bread, and
yet for more, and yet for more, and spends its labour for that which satisfieth
not, shall be fed with the bread of angels, and be satisfied with favour and
full of the goodness of the Lord. But, dear friends, surely the text also means
our spiritual hungering and thirsting. "Blessed is the man that hungers and
thirst to-day after righteousness, for he shall be filled." This a kind of
hunger that we ought to desire to have; this is a sort of thirst that the more
you have of it will be the indication of the possession of more grace. On earth
it is good for saints to hunger and to thirst spiritually, but up there they
have done even with that blessed hunger and that blessed thirst. Today, beloved,
some of us are hungering after holiness. Oh! what would I not give to be holy,
to be rid of sin, of every evil thing about me! My eyes -- ah! adieu sweet
light, if I might also say, "Adieu sin! "My mouth -- ah! well would I be content
to be dumb if I might preach by a perfect life on earth! There is no faculty I
know of that might not be cheerfully surrendered if the surrender of it would
deprive us of sin. But they never thirst for holiness in heaven, for this
excellent reason, that they are without fault before the throne of God. Does it
not make your mouth water? Why this is the luxury of heaven to be perfect. Is
not this -- the heaven of heaven, to be clean rid of the root and branch of sin,
and not a rag or bone, or piece of a bone of our old depravity left -- all gone
like our Lord, made perfect without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. And
here, too, brethren and sisters, we very rightly hunger and thirst after full
assurance and confidence. Many are hungering after it; they hope they are saved,
and they thirst to be assured that they are. But there is no such thirst as that
in heaven, for, having crossed the golden threshold of Paradise, no saint ever
asks himself, "Am I saved?" They see his face without a cloud between; they
bathe in the sea of his love; they cannot question that which they perpetually
enjoy. So, too, on earth I hope we know what it is to hunger and thirst for
fellowship with Christ. Oh! when he is gone from us -- if he do but hide his
face from us, how we cry, "My soul desires thee in the night"! We cannot be
satisfied unless we have the love of God shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy
Ghost. But in heaven they have no such thing. There the shepherd is always with
the Sheep, the King is ever near them, and because of his perpetual presence
their hungering and their thirsting will be banished for ever. Thus much upon
those evils, then, that would arise from within. As they are perfect, whatever
comes from within is a source of pleasure to them, and never of pain.And now,
dear friends, the evils that come from without: let us think of them. We no
doubt can appreciate in some measure, though not to the degree which we should
if we were in Palestine in the middle of summer -- we can appreciate the words,
"Neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat." This signifies that nothing
external shall injure the blessed. Take it literally. There shall be nothing in
the surroundings of heavenly saints that shall cause glorified spirits any
inconvenience. I think we may take it mainly in relation to the entire man
glorified; and so let us say that on earth the sun lights on us and many heats
in the form of affliction. What heats of affliction some here have passed
through! Why there are some here who are seldom free from physical pain. There
are many of the best of God's children that, if they get an hour without pain,
are joyful indeed. There are others that have had a great fight of affliction
Through poverty they have fought hard. They have been industrious, but somehow
or other God has marked them out for the scant tables and the thread-worn
garments. They are the children of poverty, and the furnace heat is very hot
about them. With others it has been repeated deaths of those they have loved.
Ah! how sad is the widow's case! How deep the grief of the fatherless! How great
the sorrow of bereaved parents! Sometimes the arrows of God fly one after the
other; first one falls and then another until we think we shall hardly have one
left. These are the heats of the furnace of affliction. And at other times these
take the form of ingratitude from children. I think we never ought to repine so
much about the death of a child as about the ungodly life of a child. A dead
cross is very heavy, but a living cross is heavier far. Many a mother has had a
son of whom she might regret that he did not die even the very hour of his
birth, for he has lived to be the grief of his parents, and a dishonour to their
name. These are sharp trials -- these heats -- but you shall have done with them
soon. "Neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat." No poverty, no
sickness, no bereavement, no ingratitude -- nothing of the kind. They for ever
rest from affliction. Heat sometimes comes in another form -- in the matter of
temptation. Oh! how some of God's people have been tried -- tried by their
flesh! Their constitution, perhaps, has been hot, impulsive, and they have been
carried off their feet, or would have been but for the interposing grace of God,
many and many a time. They have been tempted, too, in their position, and they
of their own household have been their enemies. They have been tempted by their
peculiar circumstances; their feet have almost gone many a time. And they have
been tempted by the devil; and hard work it is to stand against Satanic
insinuations. It is hot, indeed, when his fiery darts fly. Oh! when we shall
have once crossed the river, how some of us who have been much tempted will look
back upon that old dog of hell, and laugh him to scorn because he will not be
able even to bark at us again! Then we shall be for ever free from him. He
worries us now because he would devour us, but there, as he cannot devour, so
shall he not even worry us. " Neither shall the sun " of temptation " light on
them, nor any heat." Happy are the people that are in such a case. The heats of
persecution have often, too, carried about the saints. It is the lot of God's
people to be tried in this way. Through much tribulation of this sort they
inherit the kingdom; but there are no Smithfields in heaven, and no Bonners to
light up the faggots, no Inquisitions in heaven, no slanderers there to spoil
the good man's name. They shall never have the heat of persecution to suffer
again. And, once more, they shall not have the heat of care. I do not know that
we need have it, even here; but there are a great many of God's people who allow
care to get very hot about them. Even while sitting in this place to-night while
the hymn was going up, "What must it be to be there! " the thoughts of some of
you have been going away to your business, or your home. While we are trying to
preach and draw your attention upwards, perhaps some housewife is thinking of
something she has left out which ought to have been looked up before she came
away, or wondering where she left the key. We make any excuses for care through
the cares we continually invent, forgetting the words, "Cast all your care on
him. for he careth for you." But they have no cares in heaven. "They hunger no
more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any
heat." Ah! good man, there shall be no ships at sea by-and-bye-no harvests -- to
trouble you as to whether the good weather will last! Ah! good woman, you shall
have no more children that are sickly to fret over, for there you will have all
you desire, and be in a family circle that is unbroken, for all the brothers and
sisters of God's family shall by-and-bye be there, and so you shall be eternally
blest. We have thus opened up as well as we could the words of the text on the
felicity of the saints. Now, very briefly: -- II. HOW DO THEY COME TO BE
HAPPY?Well, it is quite clear that they did not come to it because they were
very fortunate people on earth, for if you read another passage of the Word of
God you will find, "These are they that came out of great tribulation." Those
that have had trial and suffering on earth are amongst those that have the bliss
of heaven. Encourage yourselves, you poor and suffering ones. It is quite
certain they did not come there from their own merit, for we read, they have
"washed their robes" -- they wanted washing. They did not keep them always
undefiled. There had been spots upon them. They came there not because they
deserved to be there, but because of the rich grace of God. How did they come
there then? Well, first, they came there through the lamb that was slain. He
bore the sun and the heat, and, therefore, the sun doth not light on them, nor
any heat. The hot sun of Jehovah's justice shone full upon the Saviour --
scorched, and burned, and consumed him with grief and anguish; and because the
Saviour suffered, therefore we suffer it no more. All our hopes of heaven are
found at the cross.But they came there next because the Saviour shed his blood.
They washed their robes in it. Faith linked them to the Saviour. The fountain
would not have cleansed their robes if they had not washed in it. Oh! there
shall be none come to heaven but such as have by faith embraced what God
provides. Dear hearer, judge thyself whether thou art right, therefore. Hast
thou washed thy robe and made it white in the Lamb's blood? Is Christ all in all
to thee? If not, canst thou hope to be there? And they are there in perfect
bliss, we are told. No sun lights on them, nor any heat, because the Lamb in the
midst of the throne is with them. How could they be unhappy who see Christ? Is
not this the secret of their bliss, that Jesus fully reveals himself to them?And
besides, they have the love of God to enjoy, for the last word of the chapter
is, "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." The blood of Jesus applied,
the presence of Jesus enjoyed, and the love of God fully revealed -- these are
the causes of the bliss of the saved in heaven. But we must close our meditation
with the last point, which is: -- III. WHAT THIS TEACHES US.First, the bliss of
the saved in glory teaches us to long for it. It is legitimate to long for
heaven -- not to long to escape from doing our duty here. It is idleness to be
always wanting to have done with this world -- it is clear sloth -- but to be
longing to be where Jesus is, is only natural and gracious. Should not the child
long to go home from the school? Should not the captive pine for liberty? Should
not the traveller in foreign lands long to see his native country? Should not
the bride, the married wife, when she has been long away from her husband, long
to see his face? If you did not long for heaven, surely you might question
whether heaven belonged to you. If you have ever tasted of the joys of the
saints, as believers do on earth, you will sing with full soul: -- "My thirsty
spirit faintsTo reach the land I loveThe bright inheritance of saints,Jerusalem
above."You may long for this.And the next lesson is, be patient until you get
there. As it will be such a blessed place when you arrive, don't trouble about
the difficulties of the way. You know our hymn: -- "The way may be rough, but it
cannot be long."So"Let us fill it with hope, and cheer it with song."You know
how well your horse goes when you turn its head homewards. Perhaps you had to
flog him a bit before, but when he begins to know he is going down the long lane
which leads home he will soon lift up his ears, and away, away he will go. We
ought to have as much sense as horses. Our heads are turned towards heaven We
are steering towards that port -- homeward bound. It may be rough weather but we
shall soon be in the fair haven where not a wave of trouble shall ever disturb
us again. Be patient, be patient. The husbandman has waited for the precious
fruits of the earth; you can well wait for the precious things of heaven. You
sow in tears, but you shall reap in joy. He has promised you a harvest. He who
cannot lie has said the seed-time and harvest shall never cease They do not
cease below; depend upon it, they won't cease above. There is a harvest for you
who have been sowing here below.Our first lesson, then, is, long for this, and
then be patient in waiting. But our next lesson is to be, wait your appointed
time. And now the next instruction is, make much of faith. They entered heaven
because they had washed their robes in blood. Make much of the blood and much of
the faith by which you have washed. Dear hearers, have you all got faith? It is,
as it were, the key of blessedness. "But all men have not faith," says the
Apostle. Hast thou faith? Dost thou believe in Christ Jesus? In other words,
dost thou trust thyself alone with him' Can you sing with our poet: -- "Nothing
in my hand I bring Simply to thy cross I cling;Naked, come to thee for
dress,Helpless, look to thee for grace.Foul, I to the fountain fly,Wash me,
Saviour, or I die"?Make much of the faith that will admit you to heaven.Once
more, our text teaches us this lesson -- Do any of us want to know what heaven
is on earth? Most of us will say, "Aye" to that. Well then, the text tells you
how to find heaven on earth. You find it in the same way as they find it in
heaven. First, be thou washed in the blood of Christ, and that will be a great
help towards happiness on earth. It will give thee peace now, "the peace of God
that passeth all understanding." Some people think that heaven on earth is to be
found in the theatre, and in the ballroom, and in the giddy haunts of fashion.
Well, it may be heaven to some, but if God has any love to you, it won't be
heaven to you. Wash your robe, therefore, in the Saviour's blood, and there will
be the beginning of heaven on earth.Then next, it appears, if you read the
connection of our text, that those who enjoy heaven serve God day and night in
his temple. If you want heaven on earth, serve God continually day and night.
Having washed your robe first, then put it on, and go out to serve God. Idle
Christians are often unhappy Christians I have met with many a spiritual
dyspeptic always full of doubts and fears. Is there a young man here full of
doubts and fears who has lost the light he once possessed, and the joy he once
had? Dear brother, get to work. In cold weather the best way to be warm is not
to get before a fire, but to work. Exercise gives a healthy glow, even amidst
the frost. "I am doing something," says one. Yes, with one hand; use the other
hand. "Perhaps I should have too many irons in the fire," says one. You cannot
have too many. Put them all in, and blow the fire with all the bellows you can
get. I do not believe any Christian man works too hard, and, as a rule, if those
who kill themselves in Christ's service were buried in a cemetery by themselves,
it would be a long while before it would get filled. Work hard for Christ. It
makes happy those who are in heaven to serve God day and night, and it will make
you happy on earth. Do all you can. Another way is to have fellowship with
Christ here. Read again this chapter. "He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell
among them -- he shall feed them." Oh! if you want to be happy, live near to
Jesus. Poor men are not poor when Christ lives in their house. Truly, sick men
have their beds made easy when Christ is there. Has he not said, " I will make
his bed in all his sickness"? Only get fellowship with Jesus, and outward
circumstances won't distress you. The sun will not light on you, nor any heat.
You will be like the shepherd on Salisbury Plain, who said it was good weather,
though it rained hard. "It is weather," said he, "that pleases me." "How so?"
said a traveller to him. "Well, sir," he said, "it pleases God, and what pleases
God pleases me." "Good day!" said one to a Christian man. "I never had a bad day
since I was converted," said he. "They are all good now since Christ is my
Saviour." Do you not see, then, that if your wishes are subdued, if you do not
hunger any more, or thirst any more as you used to do, and if you always live
near to Christ, you will begin to enjoy heaven on earth. Begin, then, the
heavenly life here below. The Bible says, "For he hath raised us up, and made us
sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." The way to live on earth,
according to many, is to live on earth, but to look upward to heaven. That is a
good way of living, but I will tell you a better, and that is to live in heaven,
and look down on earth. The Apostle had learned that when he said, "Our
conversation is in heaven." It is good to be on earth, and look up to heaven; it
is better for the mind to be in heaven, and to look down upon earth. May we
learn that secret. The Lord lead us into it. Then when faith is strong, and love
is ardent, and hope is bright, we shall sing, with Watts: -- "The men of grace
have foundGlory begun below;Celestial fruits on earthly groundFrom faith and
hope may grow."The Lord grant you a participation in this bliss, beloved, and an
abundant entrance into that bliss for ever, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 8: TWO COVERINGS AND TWO CONSEQUENCES
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A Sermon (No.3500) Published on Thursday, February 24th, 1916. Delivered by C.
H. SPURGEON, At [8]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "He that covereth his
sins shall not prosper." -- Proverbs 38:13. "Thou Hast covered all their sins."
-- Psalm 85:2. IN THESE two texts we have man's covering, which is worthless and
culpable, and God's covering, which is profitable, and worthy of all
acceptation. No sooner had man disobeyed his Maker's will in the garden of Eden
than he discovered, to his surprise and dismay, that he was naked, and he set
about at once to make himself a covering. It was a poor attempt which our first
parents made, and it proved a miserable failure. "They sewed fig-leaves
together." After that God came in, revealed to them yet more fully their
nakedness, made them confess their sin, brought their transgression home to
them, and then it is written, the Lord God made them coats of skin. Probably the
coats were made of the skins of animals which had been offered in sacrifice,
and, if so, they were a fit type of him who has provided us with a sin-offering
and a robe of perfect righteousness. Every man since the days of Adam has gone
through much of the same experience, more or less relying on his own ingenuity
to hide his own confusion of face. He has discovered that sin has made him
naked, and he has set to work to clothe himself. As I shall have to show you
presently, he has never succeeded. But God has been pleased to deal with his own
people, according to the riches of his grace; he has covered their shame and put
away their sins that they should not be remembered any more. Let me now direct
your attention, first, to man's covering, and its failure; and then to God's
covering, and its perfection. May the Holy Spirit be pleased to give you
discernment, that you may see your destitute state in the presence of God, and
understand the merciful relief that God himself has provided in the bounty of
his grace! I. MAN'S COVERING.There are many ways in which men try to cover their
sin. Some do so by denying that they have sinned, or, admitting the fact, they
deny the guilt; or else, candidly acknowledging both the sin and the guilt, they
excuse and exonerate themselves on the plea of certain circumstances which
rendered it, according to their showing, almost inevitable that they should act
as they have done. By pretext and presence, apology and self-vindication, they
acquit themselves of all criminality, and put a fine gloss upon every foul
delinquency. Excuse-making is the commonest trade under heaven. The slenderest
materials are put to the greatest account. A man who has no valid argument in
arrest of judgment, no feasible reason why he should not be condemned, will go
about and bring a thousand excuses, and ten thousand circumstances of
extenuation, the whole of them weak and attenuated as a spider's web. Someone
here may be saying within himself, "It may be I have broken the law of God, but
it was too severe. To keep so perfect a law was impossible. I have violated it,
but then I am a man, endowed with passions that involve propensities, and
inflamed with desires that need gratification. How could I do otherwise than I
have done? Placed in peculiar circumstances, I am borne along with the current.
Subject to special temptations, I yield to the fascination; this is natural." So
you think; so you essay to exculpate yourself. But, in truth, you are now
committing a fresh sin; for you are abasing God, you are inculpating the
Almighty. You are impugning the law to vindicate yourself for breaking it. There
is no small degree of criminality about such an unrighteous defence. The law is
holy, just, and good. You are throwing the onus of your sins upon God. You are
trying to mane out that, after all, you are not to blame, but the fault lies
with him who gave the commandment. Do you think that this will be tolerated?
Shall the prisoner at the bar bring accusations against the Judge who tries him?
Or shall he challenge the equity of the statute while he is arraigned for
violating it? And as for the circumstances that you plead, what valid excuse can
they furnish, Has it come to this -- that it was not you, but your necessities,
that did the wrong and are answerable for the consequence? Not you, indeed! you
are a harmless innocent victim of circumstances! I suppose, instead of being
censured, you ought almost to be pitied. What is this, again, but throwing the
blame upon the arrangements of Providence, and saying to God, "It is the
harshness of thy discipline, not the perverseness of my actions, that involves
me in sin." What, I say, is this but a high impertinence, ay, veritable treason,
against the Majesty of that thrice holy God, before whom even perfect angels
veil their faces, while they cry, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts"? I pray
thee resort not to such a covering as this, because, while it is utterly
useless, it adds sin to sin, and exposes thee to fresh shame.In many cases
persons violating the law of God have hoped to cover their transgression by
secrecy. They have done the deed in darkness. They hope that no ear of man heard
their footfall, or listened to their speech. Possibly they themselves held their
tongue, and flattered themselves that no observer witnessed their movements or
could divulge their action. So was it with Achan. I dare say he took the wedge
of gold and the Babylonish garment, mid the confusion of the battle, and hid it
when his comrades seemed too much engaged to notice so trivial fan affair. While
they were rushing over the fallen walls of Jericho, amidst the debris and the
dust, he might be unmolested; and then, in the dead of night, while they slept,
he turned the sod of his tent, dug into the earth, and buried there his coveted
treasure. All looks right, to his heart's content. He has smoothed it down, and
spread his carpet over the grave of his lust. Little did he reckon of the
Omniscient eye. Little did he count on the unerring lot that would come home to
the tribe of Judah, to the family of the Zarhites, to the house of Zabdir, and,
at last, to the son of Carmi, so that Achan himself would have to stand out
confessed as a traitor -- a robber of his God. Men little know the ways in which
the Almighty can find them out, and bring the evidence that convicts, out of the
devices that were intended to cover their sin.Do you not know that Providence is
a wonderful detective? There are hounds upon the track of every thief, and
murderer, and liar -- in foot, upon every sinner of every kind. Each sin leaves
a trail. The dogs of judgment will be sure to scent it out, and find their prey.
There is no disentangling yourselves from the meshes of guilt; no possibility of
evading the penalty of transgression. Very wonderful have been the ways in which
persons who have committed crimes have been brought to judgment. A trifle
becomes a tell-tale. The method of deceit gives a clue to the manner of
discovery. Wretched the men who bury their secrets in their own bosom. Their
conscience plays traitor to them. They have often been forged to betray
themselves. We have read of men talking in their sleep to their fellows, and
babbling out in their dreams the crime they had committed years before. God
would have the secret disclosed. No eye had seen, neither could other tongue
have bold, but the man turned king's evidence against himself; he has thus
brought himself to judgment. It has often happened, in some form or other, that
conscience has thus been witness against men. Do I address anyone who is just
now practicing a secret sin? You would not have me point you out for all the
world, nor shall I do so. Believe me, however, the sin is known. Dexterous
though you have been in the attempt to conceal it, it has been seen. As surely
as you live, it has been seen. "By whom?" say you. Ah! by One who never forgets
what he sees, and will be sure to tell of it. He may commission a little bird of
the air to whisper it. Certainly he will one day proclaim it by the sound of
trumpet to listening worlds. You are watched, sir; you are known. You have been
narrowly observed, young girl; those things you have hidden away will be brought
to light, for God is the great discoverer of sin. His eye has marked you; his
providence will track you. It is vain to think that ye can conceal your
transgressions. Before high heaven, disguise is futile. Yea, the darkness hideth
not; the night shineth as the day. I have known persons who have harboured a sin
in their breast till it has preyed upon their constitution. They have been like
the Spartan boy who had stolen a fox, and was ashamed to have it known, so he
kept it within his garment, till it ate through his flesh, and he fell dead. He
suffered the fox to gnaw his heart ere he would betray himself. There are those
who have got a sin, if not a lie in their right hand, yea, a lie in their heart,
and it is eating into their very life. They dare not confess it. If they would
confess it to their God, and make restitution to those whom they have offended,
they would soon come to peace; but they vainly hope that they can cover the sin,
and hide it from the eyes of God and man. He that covereth his sin in this
fashion shall not prosper. Again, full many a time sinners have tried to cover
their sin with falsehood. Indeed, this is the usual habit -- to lie -- to cloak
their guilt by denying it. Was not this the way with Gehazi? When the prophet
said, "Whence comest thou, Gehazi?" he said, "Thy servant went no whither." Then
the prophet told him that the leprosy of Naaman should cleave to him all the
days of his life. The sin of Ananias and Sapphira, in lying in order to hide
their sin, how quickly was it discovered, and how terrible was the retribution!
I wonder that men and women can lie as they do after reading that story. "Hast
thou sold the land for so much?" said Peter. And Ananias said, "Yea, for so
much." At that instant he fell down and gave up the ghost. Three hours after,
when his wife, Sapphire, said the same, the feet of the young men who had buried
her husband were at the door, ready to carry out her corpse, and bury her by his
side. Oh! sirs, ye must weave a tangled web, indeed, when once ye begin to
deceive; and when you have woven it you will have to add lie to lie, and lie to
lie, and yet all to no purpose, for you will be surely found out. There is
something about a lie that always deludes the man who utters it. Liars have need
of good memories. They are sure to leave a little corner uncovered through which
the truth escapes. Their story does not hang together. Discrepancies excite
suspicions, and evasions furnish a clue to discoveries, till the naked truth is
unveiled. Then the deeper the plot the fouler is the shame. But to lie unto the
God of truth, of what avail can that be? What advantageth it you to plead "not
guilty," when he has witnessed your crime? That infallible Eye which never
mistakes is never closed. He knows everything; from him no secret is hid. Why,
therefore, dost thou imagine that thou canst deceive thy Maker?There are some
who try to cover their sin by prevarication. With cunning subtlety they strive
to evade personal responsibility. Memorable is the instance of David. I will not
dwell upon his flagrant crime; but I must remind you of his sorry subterfuge,
when he tried to hide the baseness of his lust by conspiring to cause the death
of Uriah. There have been those who have schemed deep and long to throw the
blame on others, even to the injury of their reputation, to escape the odium of
their own malpractices. Who knows but in this congregation there may be someone
who affects a high social position, supported by a deep mercantile immorality?
Merchants there have been that have swollen before the public as men of wealth,
while they were falsifying their acoounts, abstracting money, yet making the
books tally, rolling in luxury, and living in jeopardy. Have they prospered?
Were they to be envied? The detection that long haunted them at length overtook
them; could they look it in the face? We have heard of their blank despair,
their insane suicide; at any rate, a miserable exposure has been their
melancholy climax. "Be sure your sin will find you out." You may run the length
of your tether. It is short. The hounds of justice, swift of scent and strong of
limb, are on your trail. Rest assured, you will be discovered. Could you escape
the due reward in this life, yet certainly your guilt is known in heaven, and
you shall be judged and condemned in that great day which shall decide your
eternal destiny. Seek not, then, to cover up sin with such transparent cobwebs
as these.Some people flatter themselves that their sin has already been hidden
away by the lapse of time. "It was so very long ago," says one, "I had almost
forgotten it; I was a lad at the time." "Aye," says another, "I am gray-headed
now. It must have been twenty or thirty years ago. Surely you do not think that
the sin of my far-off days will be brought out against me? The thing is gone by.
Time must have obliterated it." Not so, my friend. It may be the lapse of time
will only make the discovery the more clear. A boy once went into his father's
orchard, and there in his rough play he broke a little tree which his father
valued. But, rapidly putting it together again, he managed to conceal the fact,
for the disunited parts of the tree took kindly to each other, and the tree
stood as before. It so happened that more than forty years afterwards he went
into that garden after a storm had blown across it in the night, and he found
that the tree had been riven in two, and it had snapped precisely in the place
where he had broken it when it was but a sapling. So there may come a crash to
your character precisely in that place where you sinned when yet a lad. Ah! how
often the transgressions of our youth remain within our bosoms! There lie the
eggs of our young sin, and they hatch when men come into riper years. Don't be
so sure that the lapse of time will consign your faults and follies to oblivion.
You sowed your wild oats, sir; you have got to reap them. The time that has
intervened has only operated to make that evil seed spring up, and you are so
much the nearer to the harvest. Time does not change the hue of sin in the sight
of God. If a man could live a thousand years, the sins of his first year would
be as fresh in the memory of the Almighty as those of the last. Eternity itself
will never wash out a sin. Flow on, ye ages; but the scarlet spots on the sand.
Flow on still in mighty streams, but the damning spot is there still. Neither
time nor eternity can cleanse it. Only one thing can remove sin. The lapse of
time cannot. Let not any of you be so foolish as to hope it will. When the
trumpet of the resurrection sounds, there will be a resurrection of characters,
as well as of men. The man who has been foully slandered will rejoice in the
light that reflects his purity. But the man whose latent vices have been
skilfully veneered will be brought to the light too. His acts and motives will
be alike exposed. As he himself looks and sees the resurrection of his crimes,
with what horror will he face that day of judgment! "Ah! ah!" says he, "Where am
I? I had forgotten these. These are the sins of my childhood, the sins of my
youth, the sins of my manhood, and the sins of my old age. I thought they were
dead and buried, but they start from their tombs. My memory has been quickened.
How my brain reels as I think of them all! But there they are, and, like so many
wolves around me, they seem all thirsting for my destruction." Beware, oh! men.
Ye have buried your sins, but they will rise up from their graves and accuse you
before God. Time cannot cover them.Or do any of you imagine that your tears can
blot out transgressions? That is a gross mistake. Could your tears for ever
flow; could you be transformed into a Niobe, and do nothing else but weep for
aye, the whole flood could not wash out a single sin. Some have supposed that
there may be efficacy in baptismal water, or in sacramental emblems, or in
priestly incantations, or in confession to a priest -- one who asks them to
disclose their secret wickedness to him, and betrays a morbid avidity to make
his breast the sewer into which all kinds of uncleanness should be emptied. Be
not deceived. There is nothing in these ordinances of man, or these tricks of
Romish priestcraft (I had almost said of witchcraft, the two are so much alike)
to excuse the folly of those who are beguiled by them. You need not catch at
straws when the rope is thrown out to you. There is pardon to be had; remission
is to be found; forgivenness can be procured. Turn your back on yonder
shavelings; lend not your ear to them, neither be ye the victims of their
snares. In the street each day it makes one's soul sad to see them. Like the
Pharisees of old, they wear their long garments to deceive. You cannot mistake
them. Their silly conceit publishes their naked shame. Confide not in them for a
moment. Christ can forgive you. God can blot out your sin. But they cannot ease
your conscience by their penances, or remove your transgressions by their
celebrations.Thus I have gone through a rough, not very accurate, list of the
ways by which men hope to cover their sin, but they "shall not prosper." None of
these shall succeed.A more joyous task devolves on me now, while I draw your
attention to my second text, "Thou hast covered all their sin."II. GOD'S
COVERING.This fact is affirmed concerning the people of God. All who have
trusted in the atoning sacrifice which was presented by the Lord Jesus Christ
upon Calvary may accept this welcome assurance, "God. has covered all their
sin." How this hath come to pass I will tell you. Before ever God covers a man's
sins he unveils them. Did you ever see your sins unveiled? Did it ever seem as
if the Lord put his hand upon you, and said, "Look, look at them"? Have you been
led to see your sins as you never saw them before? Have you felt their
aggravations fit to drive you to despair? As you have looked at them, has the
finger of detection seemed to point out your blackness? Have you discovered in
them a depth of guilt, and iniquity, and hell -- desert which never struck your
mind before? I recollect a time when that was a spectacle always before the eyes
of my conscience. My sin was ever before me. If God thus makes you see your sin
in the light of his countenance, depend upon it he has his purposes of mercy
toward you. When you see and confess it, he will blot it out. So soon as God, in
infinite loving-kindness, makes the sinner know in truth that he is a sinner,
and strips him of the rags of his self-righteousness, he grants him pardon and
clothes his nakedness. While he stands shivering before the gaze of the
Almighty, condemned, the guilt is purged from his conscience. I do not know of a
more terrible position in one's experience than to stand with an angry God
gazing upon you, and to know that wherever God's eye falls upon you it sees
nothing but sin; sees nothing in you but what he must hate and must abhor. Yet
this is the experience through which God puts those to whom he grants
forgiveness. He makes them know that he sees how sinful they are, and he makes
them feel how vile and leprous they are. His justice withers their pride; his
judgment appals their heart. They are humbled in the very dust, and made to cry
out -- each man trembling for his own soul -- "God be merciful to me, a
sinner!"Not till this gracious work of conviction is fully wrought does the Lord
appear with the glorious proclamation that whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus
shall have his sins covered. That proclamation. I have now openly to publish and
personally to deliver to you. With your outward ears you may have heard it
hundreds of times. It is old, yet ever new. Whosoever among you, knowing himself
to be guilty, will come and put his trust in Jesus Christ, shall have his sins
covered. "Can God do that?" Yes, he can. He alone can cover sin: Against him the
sin was committed. It is the offended person who must pardon the offender. No
one else can. He is the King. He has the right to pardon. He is the Sovereign
Lord, and he can blot out sin. Beside that, he can cover it lawfully, for the
Lord Jesus Christ (though ye know the story, let me tell it again -- the song of
redemption always rings out a charming melody), Jesus Christ, the Father's dear
Son, in order that the justice of God might be vindicated, bare his breast to
its dreadful hurt, and suffered in our room, and place, and stead, what we ought
to have suffered as the penalty of our sin. Now the sacrifice of God covers sin
-- covers it right over; and he more than covers it, he makes it cease to be.
Moreover, the Lord Jesus kept the law of God, and his obedience stands, instead
of our obedience; and God accepts him and his righteousness on our behalf,
imputing his merits to our souls. Oh! the virtue of that atoning blood! Oh! the
blessedness of that perfect righteousness of the Son of God, by which he covers
our sins!There are two features of covering I should like to recall to your
recollection. The one was the mercy-seat or propitiatory, over the golden ark,
wherein were the tables of stone. Those tables of stone seemed, as it were, to
reflect the sins of Israel. As in a mirror they reflected the transgression of
God's people. God was above, as it were, looking down between the cherubic
wings. Was he to look down upon the law defied and defiled by Israel? Ah! no;
there was put over the top of the ark, as a lid which covered it all, a golden
lid called the mercy-seat, and when the Lord looked down he looked upon that lid
which covered sin. Beloved, such is Jesus Christ, the covering for all our sins.
God sees no sin in those who are hidden beneath Jesus Christ.There was another
covering at the Red Sea. On that joyous day when the Egyptians went down into
the midst of the sea pursuing the Israelites, at the motion of Moses' rod the
waters that stood upright like a wall leapt back into their natural bed and
swallowed up the Egyptians. Great was the victory when Miriam sang, "The depths
have covered them. There is not one of them left." It is even so that Jesus
Christ's atonement has covered up our sins. They are sunk in his sepulchre; they
are buried in his tomb. His blood, like the Red Sea, has drowned them. "The
depths have covered them. There is not one of them left." Against the believer
there is not a sin in God's Book recorded. He that believeth in him is perfectly
absolved. "Thou hast covered all their sin." I shall not have time to dwell upon
the sweetness of this fact, but I invite you that believe to consider its
preciousness; and I hope you who have not believed will feel your mouth watering
after it; to know that every sin one has ever committed, known and unknown, is
gone -- covered by Christ. To be assured that when Jesus died he did not die for
some of our sins, but for all the sins of his people; not for their sins up till
now, but for all the sins they ever will commit! Well does Kent put it: --
"Here's pardon for transgressions past,It matters not how black they're castAnd
O, my soul, with wonder viewFor sins to come here's pardon too."The atonement
was made before the sin was committed. The righteousness was presented even
before we had lived. "Thou hast covered all their sin. It seems to me as if the
Lamb of God, slain from before the foundation of the world, had in the purpose
of God, from the foundation of the world, covered all his people's sins.
Therefore, we are accepted the Beloved, and dear to the Father's heart. Oh! what
a joy it is to get a hold of something like this truth, especially when the
truth gets a hold of you -- when you can feel by the inwrought power and witness
of the Holy Ghost that your sins are covered -- that you dare stand up before a
rein-trying, heart-searching God, and give thanks that every transgression you
ever committed is hid from the view of those piercing eyes through Jesus Christ
your Lord.Some people think we ought not to talk thus, that it is presumptuous.
But really there is more presumption in doubting than there is in believing. For
a child to believe his father's word is never presumption. I like to credit my
Father's word. "He that believeth in him is not condemned." Condemned I am not,
for I know I do believe in him. "Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that
died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God,
who also maketh intercession for us."Beloved, the covering is as broad as the
sin. The covering completely covers, and for ever covers; for as God sees to-day
no sin in those who are washed in Jesus' blood, so will he never see any. You
are accepted with an acceptance that nothing can change. Whom once he loves he
never leaves, but loves them to the end. The reason of his love to them does not
lie in their merits nor their charms; the cause of love is in himself. The
ground of his acceptance of them is in the person and work of Christ. Whatever
they may be, whatever their condition of heart may be, they are accepted,
because Christ lived and died. It is not a precarious or a conditional, but an
eternal acceptance.Would you enjoy the blessedness of this complete covering?
Cowering down beneath the tempest of Jehovah's wrath, which you feel in your
conscience, would you obtain this full remission? Behold the gates of the City
of Refuge which stand wide open. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is
proclaimed! to the thirsty, needy, labouring, weary soul. Not merely open are
the gates, but the invitation to enter is given. "Come unto me all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." You are bidden to lay
hold upon eternal life. The way of doing so is simple. No works of yours, no
merits, no tears, no preparations are required, but trust -- trust -- that is
all. Believe in Jesus. Rely upon him; depend upon him; depend upon him. I have
heard of Homer's Iliad being enclosed in a nutshell, so small was it written;
but here is the Plain Man's Guide to Heaven in a nutshell. Here is the essence
of the whole gospel in one short sentence. "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved." Trust him; trust him. That is the meaning of that word
believe. Depend upon him, and as surely as thou doest it, nor death, nor hell,
nor sin shall ever separate thee from the love of him whom thou hast embraced,
from the protection of him in whose power thou hast taken shelter. The Lord lead
you to cower beneath his covering wings, and grant you to be found in Christ,
accepted in the Beloved. So shall your present peace be the foretaste of your
eternal felicity. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 9: THE FEAST OF THE LORD
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A Sermon (No.3501) Published on Thursday, March 2nd, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [9]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
August 6th, 1871. "For as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do
show the Lord's death till he come." -- 1 Cor.11:26. I THINK we cannot too often
explain the meaning of the two great Christian ordinances -- baptism and the
Supper of the Lord; for it is essential to our profiting by them that we
understand them. If we do not know what they mean, they certainly cannot convey
to us any blessing whatever. They are not mere channels of grace in themselves,
apart from our understanding being exercised, and our hearts being moved by
them. Very soon the best ordinance in the world will become a mere form, and
will even degenerate into superstitious practice, unless it be understood; and
we must not always take it for granted that the meaning of the simplest emblem
is understood. Line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little, and there a
little, must still be the motto of the Christian minister. We must explain,
explain, and explain again, or else men will satisfy themselves with the outward
form, and not reach to the teaching which the forms were intended to convey. Our
text deals with the supper of our Lord, and we will read it again. "As often as
eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he come."
The first point of the text is what we do -- we "show." Then, what do we show,
and how? And then, who show it -- "ye do show the Lord's death." And then, when?
-- "as often" -- "till he come." First, then, when we come to the Lord's table:
-- I. WHAT WE DO. We "show." That word has two or three meanings. They all melt
into one, but we shall get at it better by dividing it. It is meant here by
showing Christ's death that we declare it. When the emblems are placed upon the
table -- bread and wine and we gather around it, we declare our firm belief that
Jesus, the Son of God, descended into this world and died as a sacrifice for sin
upon the arose. It has been found that if a great event is to be kept in mind in
succeeding ages, there must be some memorial of it. Men by degrees forget it,
and even come to be dubious as to whether such an event did occur. Sometimes a
stone has been set up -- a monument -- but this has not always been most
effective. God, when he would have the children of Israel remember that he
brought them out of Egypt with a high hand and an outstretched arm, did not bid
them set up a monument, but he ordained a ceremony which was to be practiced on
a certain day. It was called "The Passover," and the slaughter of the lamb and
the eating of it became a yearly declaration by the people of Israel that they
believed that God brought their fathers up out of the house of bondage. So
effective has this been that men have often used the same device. When the
Jewish people escaped from the plot which was laid by Haman, through the wisdom
of Mordecai and Esther, they ordained the keeping of the feast of Purim, that
they might have in perpetual memory the goodness of God towards his people.And
you know how, in our own English history and in the history of other countries,
certain rites and ceremonies have been ordained in order that there might be a
perpetual memorial, a declaration made that such and such a thing did occur. Now
that more than eighteen hundred years ago Jesus Christ, of the seed of David,
died upon Calvary by crucifixion, we do here protest and declare. We set forth
again to a world that is skeptical and denies the fact which is its brightest
hope -- we set forth our confident belief that so it was; and as long as this
ordinance shall be celebrated, there shall be a standing proof in the world that
that was the case.But to set forth means more than to declare. It signifies, in
the next place to represent. There is in the Lord's Supper a representation of
the death of Christ. Men, when they have found an event to be interesting and
remarkable, have often devised ways of representing it to the people that they
might understand it.With regard to our Lord's death, there are some who hang up
pictures on the wall; they think the use of the crucifix and so on to be proper.
I find no teaching of that kind in the Word of God. I do find that too often
such things lead to idolatry. And what shall we say of these miracle -- plays
which, even in these modern times, have been carried out, in which the death of
our Lord Jesus Christ is travestied? They seem to be shocking to the Christian
mind. But here, in a very simple manner, you have God's own appointed way of
representing to ourselves and to onlookers the death of our Lord. This is the
Christian's "show" -- we show the death of Christ here by a divine appointment.
I shall, farther on, show how it is so, and that the breaking of bread and the
pouring forth of wine -- the use of those two emblems -- is a most telling, most
suggestive, most instructive method of representing the death of Christ. There
are two other ways of representing it -- the one the pencil of the evangelist
which has drawn the death of Christ in the Word of God; the other is the
preaching of the gospel. It is the preacher's business to set forth Christ
crucified -- evidently crucified among you. The three ways that God has ordained
of representing the death of Christ are the Word read, the Word preached, and
this blessed ordinance of the Supper of the Lord.To "show." This means to
declare, to testify; and it means also to represent. But it has a third meaning:
it means also to hold forth, to make manifest, to publish, to call attention to.
Now it has been a matter of fact that when the Jesuit missionaries went to China
and converted a great many to what they called the Christian faith, they never
mentioned the fact that Christ died. For years they concealed it, lest the
people should be shocked Now we, on the other hand, put that first and foremost.
We have no other Christianity than this, that Christ died and rose again, and we
cannot come to the Lord's table without showing it. The Jesuit could, because it
would puzzle the wisest man to see the death of Christ in the Mass. He might sit
and look at a hundred Masses before he knew what it meant. But the moment we
gather around this table and break bread, and pour out wine, whoever asks us,
"What mean ye by this ordinance? the answer is prompt -- the wayfaring man,
though a fool, need not err in this -- "We set forth to you that Jesus died."
"God forbid that we should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ."
We are not ashamed of a crucified Saviour. We have heard of some in these days
who are always preaching a glorified Christ. We wish them such success as their
ministry is likely to bring; but for us we preach a crucified Christ -- "Christ
and him crucified"; for it is here, after all, that the salvation of the sinner
lies. Christ glorified is precious enough -- oh! how unspeakably precious to a
soul that is saved! -- but first and foremost to a dying world it is Christ upon
the cross that we have to declare. And, therefore, when we come to the Communion
table we do three things. We assert the fact that Jesus died; we represent that
fact in emblem, and then we thus press it upon the attention of men. We desire
them to observe it; we ask them to mark it; we tell them that this is the sum
and substance of all the gospel that we were sent to preach, "God hath set forth
Christ to be a propitiation for our sins." Thus I have opened up the meaning of
the word to "show." This is what we do. Now the second point is, my brethren: --
II. WHAT WE SHOW, AND HOWIt is said in the text, "As often as ye eat this bread
and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death." How do we show it? What do we
show? Well, first of all, we show that God has set forth Christ for men. The
table is spread; there is bread on it; there is the cup upon it. What for? Not
for beasts. Here is the food of men. It is set there for men. It is intended
that the bread should be eaten, that the wine should be drunk. Everybody who
sees a table spread knows at once that there are preparations for a meal or a
festival. Now God has set forth Christ for men. There is in Christ what man
wants. As bread meets his hunger, as the cup meets his thirst, so Christ meets
all the spiritual wants of mankind. And the soul that would live, and the soul
that would rejoice, must come to God's provision for his living and his
rejoicing, and that provision is to be found in Jesus Christ crucified. God set
forth Christ of old. Even in the garden, he set him forth in the first promise.
He continued to set him forth by all the prophets, and in this last day every
veil has been taken away by an open Bible inviting all comers. God has set forth
the bread of life to the sons of men. And you to-night will show that fact. When
you see that table uncovered, you have a representation. God has made a feast of
fat things for the sons of men in the person of Jesus Christ. The feast consists
of bread and wine. Now in this we represent Christ's human person, Christ's
humanity. That he is no myth, but real flesh, is taught by the bread being on
the table -- that he was no phantom, but that real blood coursed through his
veins as through ours -- that the Lord of life and glory was, like ourselves, a
real man, in humanity in all respects like to ourselves, sin alone excepted.
There shall be no phantom feast upon the table, and the materialism that is
there is meant to show that he was a man, a real man"Who once on Calvary
died,When streams of blood and water ranDown from his wounded side."But the next
thing we show forth is his death. We have his person; then we have his death --
observe how. Recording to the Romish Church, the most of the people are only to
participate in the bread -- the wafer. Now such persons never show Christ's
death at all, for the text says, "As often as ye eat this bread and drink this
cup, ye show Christ's death." It is only by the two that you show his death at
all. The bread represents the body, but the cup must represent the blood, or
else you have no token of his suffering -- no emblem of his death. Cannot the
two be mixed together? No, for if the blood and flesh be together, you have the
living man. It is when the blood flows -- when the lifeblood ebbs from the body,
and the body is bloodless, that then you have the wine as a token of death; and
the separation of the two -- the use of the two emblems -- is absolutely needful
to set forth death. The more you think this the more you see in it. The emblem
is the simplest in the world, but yet the most instructive. Take either one of
the elements -- the bread, how it typifies Christ's suffering! Here was the corn
bruised beneath the thresher's flail; then was it cast into the ground. It
sprung up and ripened, and had to be cut down with the sickle; then it had to be
threshed; then ground in the mill; then was it baked in the oven. A whole series
of sufferings, if I may use the term, it had to pass through before it became
proper food for us. And so must our Saviour pass through sufferings innumerable
before he could become food for our souls, and redeemer of our spirits. As for
that which is in the cup, it was trodden beneath the foot in the wine-press --
its juice was pressed forth. So in the wine-press of Jehovah's wrath was Christ
pressed before he could become the wine that maketh glad both God and man. Both
emblems represent suffering, each one separately, but put together they bring
forth the idea of death, "and as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup,
ye do show the Lord's death."But more than this; we show that God set forth
Christ; we show his person as a real man; we show his sufferings and his death;
but next we show our participation in the same, for it is not "as often as ye
look at this bread," or "as ye gaze upon this cup," but "as often as ye eat this
bread and drink this cup." Christ saves us not until we do receive him by an act
of faith. The bread satisfies no hunger while it rests upon the table, and a
draught from the cup quenches no thirst until it really is drunk. So the
precious blood of Jesus Christ our Saviour must be received by our faith. We
must believe in him to the saving of our souls. Now how simple a matter is
eating! It matters not, unless a man be dead -- he wants little teaching to know
how to eat. It is as simple as a natural act -- he puts food into his mouth. It
is just so here. There is the Saviour, and I take him -- that is all. It seems
to me to be even a more complex act to eat than simply to trust in Jesus, yet is
it a very simple thing. The idiot can eat. No matter how guilty a man, he can
eat; no matter how dark and despairing his fears, he can eat; and O poor soul,
whoever thou mayest be, there shall be no want of wit or merit that shall keep
thee back from Christ. If thou art willing to have him, thou mayest have him.
The act of trusting Christ makes Christ as much thy own as the eating of the
bread. Suppose some difficulty were raised about whether a piece of bread was
mine. Well, the legal question would take a long time to decide. I cannot
produce the document, nor find the witnesses to prove it is mine. But there is
one little fact, I think, which will settle it -- I have eaten it. So if the
devil himself were to say that Christ is not mine, I have believed on him; and
if I have believed on him, he is mine just as surely as when I have eaten a
piece of bread there can be no question about its being mine. Now we set forth
to-night, by eating bread and drinking of the cup, the fact that Jesus Christ is
our Saviour, and we take him by simple faith to be our all in all. But there is
more teaching still. The bread and wine, are being eaten and drunk, are
assimilated into the system; they minister strength to bone, sinew, muscle; they
build up the man. And herein is teaching. Christ believed in is one with us --
"Christ in us the hope of glory. "We have heard persons talk of believers
falling from grace and losing Christ. No, sir, a man has eaten bread -- he ate
it yesterday. Will you separate that bread from the man? Will you trace the
drops that came from the cup, and fetch them out of the man's system? You shall
more easily do that than you shall take Christ away from the soul that has once
fed upon him. "Who shall separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ
Jesus our Lord?" He is in us a well of water springing up into everlasting life.
See then how large a letter Christ has written to us with these pens -- how in
this bread and this wine, eaten and drunk, he has taught us wondrous mysteries
-- in fact, the whole Christian faith is, in brief, summed up here upon this
table.And now we must remark upon what it is we show forth, and how we do it. We
do this very simply. Certain churches must go about this business in a very
mysterious manner -- a great deal of machinery is wanted -- a plate becomes a
paten, and a cup becomes a chalice, and a table, ah! that has vanished and
turned into an altar. The whole thing is turned topsy-turvy until it is very
questionable in the Church of Rome whether there is any supper at all; for if
you introduce the altar, you have put away the table and done away with the
whole thing. It is another ordinance, and not the ordinance which Christ
established. One would suppose that when the Apostles first went out to preach,
if the religion of the Romish Church be that of the Scripture, they would have
needed, each of them, a wagon to carry with them the various paraphernalia
necessary for the celebration of their services. But here, wherever there is a
piece of bread, and wherever there is a cup, we have the plain, but instructive
emblems which our Saviour bade us use. "He took bread and break it. "He did
drink of the cup, and passed it to his disciples, and said, "Drink ye all of
it."Let us keep this ordinance in its pure simplicity. Let us never add anything
to it by our own devising by way of fancying that we are honouring God by
garnishing his table. Let us plainly show Christ's death, and as we do it
plainly we should also do it festively. Is it not delightful to reflect that our
Lord has not ordained a mournful ceremony in which to celebrate his death: it is
a feast. You would suppose by the way that some come that it is a funeral, but
it is a feast, and joy becomes a feast; and when, according to the example of
Christ, we recline at our ease in the nearest approach to the posture in which
the Oriental lay along at the table, and when we come with joyful heart,
blessing the Lord Jesus that though our sins put him to death, yet his death has
put to death our sins, then it is that we celebrate his death as he would have
us celebrate it -- not as an awful tragedy, in which we try to provoke our
indignation against the Romans or the Jews, but as a hallowed festival, in which
the King himself comes to the table, and his spikenard gives forth a sweet
smell, and our spirit is refreshed.And once more, this way of showing Christ's
death is one of communion. Now one person cannot do it; many must come together.
Ye must eat and drink together to celebrate this, your Lord's death. And is not
this delightful, for in this cup we have fellowship with him and with one
another? We, being many, have one bread; we, being many, have one cup -- one
family at one table with one common head, the Lord Jesus, who is all in all to
us. Oh! I bless his name that whereas he might have ordained a way of our
showing his death which would have been mournful, or a way which would have been
solitary, he has selected that which is joyful, and that which is full of good
fellowship, so that saints below and himself can meet together in the festival
of love and show his death until he come, in the breaking of bread and the
pouring forth of wine. Thus I have tried to show what it is we show, and how we
show it. Now thirdly: -- III. WHO ARE TO SHOW IT?Who show it? "As often as ye
eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death." The "ye," then
includes all the saints of God -- all who come to the table, who eat this bread
and drink this cup; and truly a very pleasing thought arises from this. Here is
a way of showing Christ's death in which all who love Christ have a share. You
cannot all show it from the pulpit; gifts are not equally distributed; but you
all alike share in this showing of his death -- in this special way, which he
himself celebrated for our example, and which he delivered to his servant Paul,
expressly that it might stand on record. Now if Paul himself were here, he could
not show Christ's death alone at the Lord's Supper. He must ask some of his
poorer brethren to come with him. If the minister of a church should be full of
the Holy Ghost, yet could he not show forth Christ's death here in this peculiar
way. He must say to his brethren, "Come, brethren and sisters; it says ' ye,' as
often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup." Here we are to-night, as we sit
here, all brought into a blessed equality in the act of using the same outward
sign, and of performing the Master's will in the same way. "But," says ones
"doth every man who comes to the table, and eats and drinks, show Christ's
death? Notice how the verse which follows my text puts a bar to that. "Let a man
examine himself, and so let him eat of this bread." It must be taken for granted
that the man has examined himself -- that he comes there as a true believer in
Jesus -- that he comes there with the full intent to show Christ's death; and if
he does that, such a man is showing Christ's death. I am very earnest, dear
brethren and sisters, as it has been a long time since I have met with you --
having been kept away so long by sickness, though I have been with my brethren
below stairs -- I am anxious that we should indeed show Christ's death to-night.
Let us do it to ourselves. I find that the text may either be read in the
indicative or in the imperative mood. It is either "ye show Christ's death," as
our version has it, or it may be "show ye Christ's death" -- it is an
exhortation. Oh! let us take care that we show it to ourselves. "Show it to
ourselves?" says one. Yes, it is meant for you. This is a primary meaning of the
text. When you take that bread, don't think of the bread, and stay there, but
say to your own soul, "My soul, think thou of Jesus. My heart, go away now to
Gethsemane. Come, ye stray thoughts; Come, ye passing vanities, begone! I must
away to where my Saviour bled and died."Sweet the moments, rich in
blessingWhich, before his cross, I spend."I have come here to show his death;
let me see him. I will ask him to permit me in spirit to put my finger into the
print of the nails, and to put my hand into his side. Oh! go not from this table
satisfied with the outward emblem; press into the inner court -- pray the Master
to manifest himself to you as he does not unto the world. For here is the main
business -- show his death to your own heart till your heart bleeds for sin;
show it to your own faith till your faith feels it is all sufficient -- show it
to others. You will be sure to show it to others if you show it to yourself for
as others look on and mark your reverent behaviour; if they cannot enter into
your joy, they will be reminded of what they have so long forgotten. Oh!
brethren and sisters, let me urge each one of you that no one should be content
without sharing this honour. I feel we all have an honour to participate in
showing forth the death of Christ. Let us not, in sharing the honour, bring
condemnation on ourselves. But I must hasten on. The fourth point is: -- IV.
WHEN ARE WE TO DO IT?The text says "often" -- "as often as ye eat this bread."
The Holy Spirit might have used the words "when ye eat," but he did not. He
teaches us by implication that we ought to do it often. I do not think there is
any positive law about it, but it looks to me as if the first Christians broke
bread almost every day -- "breaking bread from house to house." I am not sure
that that refers to Communion, but in all probability it does. This much is
certain, that in the early Church the custom was to break bread in memory of
Christ's passion on the first day of every week, and it was always a part of the
Sabbath's service when they came together to remember their Lord in this way.
How it can be thought right to leave the celebrating of this ordinance to once a
year or once a quarter I cannot understand, and it seems to me that if brethren
knew the great joy there is in often setting forth Christ's death they would not
be content with even once a month. But I leave that.The other mark of time in
the text is "till he come." Then this service is to end. There will be no more
Lord's Suppers when Christ appears, because they will be needless. Put out the
candle -- the sun has risen. Put away the emblem -- here comes Christ himself.
But until he does come, this will always be a most fitting ordinance. I pleased
myself with a thought I met with the other day. Our Lord Jesus Christ sat at the
table and ate with his disciples, and he took the cup and he sipped it, and he
passed it round. It is being passed round still. It has not got round the table
yet, it is being passed on. For 1,800 years it has been passed from hand to
hand. They have not all drunk yet; and you remember he, said, "Drink ye all of
it" -- all of you. Did he speak to all his elect that were to be born -- to all
the countless companies yet to come? I think he did, and it is going round: and
by-and-bye, when all the people of God have participated in Christ, it will
cease. The cup will never be emptied till then."Dear dying Lamb, thy precious
bloodShall never lose its power,Till all the ransomed Church of GodBe saved, to
sin no more."When the last has drunk of it, what then? It will come back into
the Master's hands, and then will be fulfilled that word of his, "I say unto you
I will not henceforth drink of the juice of the vine till I drink it new in my
heavenly Father's kingdom." And it is going round, brethren -- that cup of
glorious Christian fellowship of love to Christ, the cup that is filled with
Jesus' blood -- it is passing round, and when it has reached his hand then we
shall need no more the outward ordinance. But until then it is clear from the
text that it is to be kept up. And I have a little dispute with some of you here
present. You love the Lord, but you have never been baptized; you love Jesus,
but you have never come to his table. Now let me say you are in opposition to
Christ. He says, "Do this till I come", you don't do it. "Oh! but I am only
one," say you. To your measure of ability you have helped to make the lord's
Supper obsolete. Can you see that? If you have a right to neglect it, so have I
-- if I, so have all my brethren. Then there is an end to it. My dear brother,
you are doing the best you can to make Christ forgotten in the world. I pray you
by his own dying example and his express command, "This do ye in remembrance of
me" -- if ye have believed him, keep this, his commandment. If ye have not
believed in him, then far hence! Ye have no right to take it. But if you have
believed, I beseech you stand not back for shame or fear, but eat and drink at
his table till he come. Time has gone too fast for me, and I must close. There
is one lesson, however, that I cannot leave out. Until Christ come. We are
taught our interim employment -- what is to occupy us until Jesus comes. Beloved
brethren, until Jesus comes we have nothing left but to think of him. Till Jesus
comes the main thing we have to do is to think of and set him forth a crucified
Saviour. There is no food for the Church but Jesus; there is no testimony to the
world but Jesus crucified. They have sometimes told us that in this growing age
we may expect to have developed a higher form of Christianity. Well, they shall
have it that like it; but Christ himself has left us nothing but just this,
"Show my death till I come." The preacher is to go on preaching a dying Saviour;
the saint is to go on trusting that dying Saviour, feeding on him and letting
his soul be satisfied as with marrow and fatness. There is nothing left us to
occupy our thoughts, or to be the subject of our joy, as our dear dying Lord.
Oh! let us feed on him. Each one, personally, as a believer -- let him feed on
his Saviour. If he has come once, come again. Keep on coming till Christ himself
shall appear. As long as the invitation stands let us not slight it, but
constantly come to Christ himself and feed on him.In conclusion, let every
ungodly person here know that he has no part nor lot in this matter. Thy first
business, sinner, is with Christ himself. Go thou and put thy trust in him. Oh!
go this night. Thou mayest never have another night to go in. And then when thou
best believed, then obey his command in baptism, and then also come to his table
and show his death until he come. The Lord bless you for Christ's sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 10: POWERFUL PERSUASIVES
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A Sermon (No.3502) Published on Thursday, March 9th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [10]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "All things are
delivered unto me of my Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father;
neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son
will reveal him. Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest." -- Matthew 11:27-28. I HAVE preached to you, dear friends,
several times from the words, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest." There is such sweetness in the precept, such
solace in the promise, that I could fain hope to preach from it many times more.
But I have no intention just now to repeat what I have said in any former
discourse, or to follow the same vein of thought that we have previously
explored. This kindly and gracious invitation needs only to be held up in
different lights to give us different subjects for admiration. That it flowed
like an anthem from our Saviour's lips we perceive, in what connection if was
spoken we may properly enquire. He had just made some important disclosures as
to the covenant relations that existed between himself and God the Father. This
interesting revelation of heavenly truth becomes the basis upon which he offers
an invitation to the toiling and oppressed children of men, and assigns it as a
reason why they should immediately avail themselves of his succour. Such is the
line of discourse I propose now to follow. Kindly understand me that I want to
deal with the hearts and consciences of the unconverted, and, in the power of
the Holy Spirit, to plead with them that they may at once go to Jesus and find
rest unto their souls. I shall require no stories or anecdotes, no figures or
metaphors, to illustrate the urgent necessity of the sinner and the generous
bounty of the Saviour. We will make it as plain as a pikestaff, and as sharp as
a sword, with the intention of driving straight at our point. Time is precious,
your time especially, for you may not have many days in which to seek the Lord.
The matter is urgent. Oh! that every labouring, weary sinner here might at once
come to Jesus and find that rest which the Saviour expresses himself as so
willing to give! With all simplicity, then, let me explain to you tile way of
salvation, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden." The way to be
saved is to come to Jesus. To come, to Jesus means to pray to him, to trust in
him, to rely upon him. Each man who trusts in another may be said to come to
that other for help. Thus to trust in Jesus is to come to him. In order to do
this I must give up all reliance upon myself, or anything I could do or have
done, or anything I do feel or can feel. Nor must I feel the slightest
dependence upon anything that anyone else can do for me. I must cease from
creature helps and carnal rites, to rest myself upon Jesus. That is what my
Saviour means when he says, "Come unto me." The exhortation is very personal.
"Come unto me," says he. He saith not, come to my ministers to consult them. nor
come to my sacraments to observe them, nor come to my Bible to study its
teaching -- interesting and advantageous as under some circumstances any or all
of these counsels might be; but he invites us in the sweetest tune of
friendship, saying, "Come to me." For a poor sinner this is the truest means of
succour. Let him resort to the blessed Lord himself. To trust in a crucified
Saviour is the way of salvation. Let him leave everything else and fly away to
Christ, and look at his dear wounds as he hangs upon the cross. I am afraid many
people are detained from Christ by becoming entangled in the meshes of doctrine.
Some with heterodox doctrine, others with orthodox doctrine, content themselves.
They think that they have advanced far enough They flatter their souls that they
have ascertained the truth! But the fact is, it is not the truth as a letter
which, saves anybody. It is the truth as a person -- it is Jesus Christ who is
the way, the truth, and the life, whom we need to apprehend. Our confidences
must rest entirely upon him. "Come unto me," saith Jesus; Come unto me, and I
will give you rest." The exhortation is in the present tense. "Come" now; do not
wait; do not tarry; do not lie at the pool of ordinances but come unto me; come
now at once, immediately, just where you are, just as you are. Wherever the
summons finds you, rise without parley, without an instant's delay. "Come." I
know that the human mind is very ingenious, and it is especially perverse when
its own destruction is threatened. By some means or other it will evade this
simple call. "Surely," says one, "there must be something to do besides that."
Nay, nothing else is to be done. No preliminaries are requisite. The whole way
of salvation is to trust in Jesus. Trust him now. That done, you are saved. Rely
upon his finished work. know that he has meditated on your behalf. Commit thy
sinful self to his saving grace. A change of heart shall be yours. All that you
need he will supply. "There is life in a look at the crucified One;There is life
at this moment for thee."So sweet an invitation demands a spontaneous
acceptance. Come just as you are. "Come unto me," saith Christ. He does not say,
"Come when you have washed and cleansed yourself." Rather should you come to be
cleansed. He does not say, "Come when you have clothed yourself and made
yourself beautiful with good works." Come to be made beautiful in a better
righteousness than you can wear. Come naked, and let him gird thee with fine
linen, cover thee with silk, and deck thee with jewels. He does not say, "Come
when your conscience is tender, come when your heart is penitent, when your soul
is full of loathing for sin, and your mind is enlightened with knowledge and
enlivened with joy. But ye that labour, ye that are heavy laden, he bids you to
come as you are. Come oppressed with your burdens, begrimed with your labours,
dispirited with your toils. If the load that bends you double to the earth be
upon your shoulders? just come as you are. Take no plea in your mouth but this
-- he bids you come. That shall suffice as a warrant for your coming, and a
security for your welcome. If Jesus Christ bids you, who shall say you nay?He
puts the matter very exclusively. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden." Do nothing else but come to him. Do you want rest? Come to him for
it. The old proverb hath it that betwixt two stools we come to the ground."
Certainly, if we trust partly in Christ and partly in ourselves, we shall fall
lower than the ground. We shall sink into hell. "Come unto me" is the whole
gospel. "Come unto me." Mix nothing with it. Acknowledge no other obedience.
Obey Christ, and him alone. Come unto me. You cannot go in two opposite
directions. Let your tottering footsteps bend their way to him alone. Mix
anything with him, and the possibility of your salvation is gone. Yours be the
happy resolve: -- "Nothing in my hands I bring:Simply to thy cross I cling."This
must be your cry if you are to be accepted at all. Come, then, ye that labour,
ye horny-handed sons of toil. Come ye to Jesus. He invites you. Ye that stew and
toil for wealth, ye merchants, with your many cares, labourers ye are. He bids
you come. Ye students, anxious for knowledge, chary of sleep, burning out the
midnight oil. Ye labour with exhausted brains; therefore, come. Come from
struggling after fame. Ye pleasure -- seekers, come; perhaps there is no harder
toil than the toil of the man who courts recreation and thinks he is taking his
ease. Come, ye that labour in any form or fashion; come to Jesus -- to Jesus
alone. And ye that are heavy laden; ye whose official duties are a burden; ye
whose domestic cares are a burden; ye whose daily toils are a burden; ye whose
shame and degradation are a burden, all ye that are heavy laden, come and
welcome. If I attach no exclusive spiritual signification to these terms, it is
because there is nothing in the chapter that would warrant such a restriction.
Had Christ said, "Some of you that labour and are heavy laden may come," I would
have said "some" too. Howbeit he has not said "some," but "all" "that labour and
are heavy laden." It is wonderful how people twist this text about. They alter
the sense by misquoting the words. They say, "Come ye that are weary and heavy
laden." After this manner some have even intended to define a character rather
than to describe condition, so they shut out some of those who labour from the
kind invitation. But let the passage stand in its own simplicity. Let any sinner
here, who can say, "I labour," though he cannot say spiritually labour, come on
the bare warrant of the word as he finds it written here; he will not be
disappointed of the mercy promised. Christ will not reject him. Himself hath
said it, "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." And any man that is
heavy laden, even though it may not be a spiritual burden that oppresses him,
yet if he comes heavy laden to Christ, he certainly shall find relief. That were
a wonder without precedent or parallel, such as was never witnessed on earth
throughout all the generations of men, that a soul should come to Jesus, be
rebuffed, and told by him, "I never called you, I never meant you; you are not
the character; you may not come." Hear, O heaven! witness, O earth! such thing
was never heard of. No, nor ever shall it be heard of in time or in eternity.
That any sinner should come to the Saviour by mistake is preposterous. That
Jesus should say to him, "Go your way; I never called for you," is incredible.
How can ye thus libel the sinner's friend? Come, ye needy -- come, ye helpless
-- come, ye simple -- come, ye penitent -- come, ye impenitent -- come, ye who
are the very vilest of the vile. If you do but come, Jesus Christ will receive
you, welcome you, rejoice over you, and verify to you his thrice blessed
promise, "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out."Now to the tug of
war. It shall be my main endeavour to press the invitation upon you, my good
friends, by the arguments which the Saviour used. Kindly look at the text. Read
the words for yourselves. Do you not see that the reason why you are solemnly
bidden to come to Christ is because: -- I. HE IS THE APPOINTED MEDIATOR."All
things are delivered unto me of my Father." God, even the Father, your Creator,
against whom you have transgressed, has appointed our Lord Jesus Christ to be
the way of access for a sinner to himself. He is no amateur Saviour. He has not
thrust himself into the place officiously. He is officially delegated. In times
of distress, every man is at liberty to do his best for the public welfare; but
the officer commissioned by his Sovereign is armed with a supreme right to give
counsel or to exercise command. Away there in Bengal, if there are any dying of
famine, and I have rice, I may distribute it of my own will at my own charge.
But the commissioner of the district has a special warranty which I do not
posses; he has a function to discharge; it is his business, his vocation; he is
authorised by the Government, and responsible to the Government to do it. So the
Lord Jesus Christ has not only a deep compassion of heart for the necessities of
men, but he has God's authority to support him. The Father delivered all things
into his hands, and appointed him to be a Saviour. All that Christ teaches has
this superlative sanction. He teaches you nothing of his own conjecture. "What I
have heard of the Father," he saith, "that reveal I unto you." The gospel is not
a scheme of his suggestion. He reveals it fresh from the heart of God. Remember
that the promises Christ makes are not merely his surmises, but they are
promises with the stamp of the court of heaven upon them. Their truth is
guaranteed by God. It is not possible they should fail. Sooner might heaven and
earth pass away than one word of his fall flat to the ground. Your Saviour, O
sinner -- your only Saviour -- is one whose teachings, whose invitations, and
whose promises have the seal royal of the King of kings upon them. What more do
you want? Moreover, the Father has given all things into his hands in the sense
of government. Christ is king everywhere. God has appointed Christ to be a
mediatorial prince over all of us -- I say over us all -- not merely over those
who accept his sovereignty, but even over the ungodly. He hath given him power
over all flesh, that he may give eternal life to as many as he has given him. It
is of no use your rebelling against Christ, and saying, "We will not have him"
-- the old cry, "We will not have this man to reign over us." How read ye in the
second Psalm "Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The
kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together against
the Lord, and against his anointed. Yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of
Zion. "Christ is supreme. You will have either to submit to his sceptre
willingly, or else to be broken by his iron rod like a potter's vessel. Which
shall it be? Thou must either bow or be broken; make your choice. You must bend
or break. God help you wisely to resolve and gratefully relent. Has the Father
appointed Christ to stand between him and his sinful creatures? Has he put the
government upon his shoulders, and given him a name called Wonderful,
Counsellor, the mighty, the everlasting King? Is he Emmanuel, God with us, in
God's stead? With what reverence are we bound to receive him!Moreover, all the
treasures of wisdom and knowledge, of mercy and goodness, are laid up in Christ.
You recollect when Pharaoh had corn to sell in Egypt, what reply he made to all
who applied to him, "Go to Joseph." It would have been no use saying, "Go to
Joseph," if Joseph had not the keys of the garner; but he had, and there was no
garner that could be opened in Egypt unless Joseph lent the key. In like manner,
all the garners of mercy are under the lock and key of Jesus Christ, "who
openeth, and no man shutteth; who shutteth, and no man openeth." When you
require any bounty or benefit of God, you must repair to Jesus for it. The
Father has put all power into his hands. He has committed the entire work of
mercy to his Son, that through him as the appointed mediator, all blessings
should be dispensed to the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath
made us accepted in the beloved. "Now, sirs, do you want to be saved? I charge
you to say whether you do or not; for if you care not for salvation, why should
I labour among you? If you choose your own ruin, you need no counsel; you will
make sure of it by your own neglect. But if you want salvation, Christ is the
only authorized person in heaven and earth who can save you. "There is no other
name, given among men whereby we must be saved." The Father hath delivered all
things into his keeping. He is the authorised Saviour. "Come unto me, then, "all
ye that labour and are heavy laden." This argument is further developed by
another consideration: Christ is: -- II. A WELL-FURNISHED MEDIATOR,"All things
are delivered unto me," he said, "of my Father. "Sum up all that the sinner
wants, and you will find him able to supply you with all. You want pardon; it is
delivered unto Christ of the Father. You want change of heart; it is delivered
unto Christ of the Father. You want righteousness in which you may be accepted;
Christ has it. You want to be purged from the love of sin; Christ can do it. You
want wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. It is all in Christ.
You are afraid that if you start on the road to heaven, you cannot hold on.
Persevering grace is in Christ. You think you will never be perfect; but
perfection is in Christ, for all believers, being saints of God and servants of
Christ, are complete in him. Between hell-gate and heaven-gate there is nothing
a sinner can need that is not treasured up in his blessed person. "It pleased
the Father that in him should all fulness dwell." He is "full of grace and
truth." Oh! sinner, I wish I could constrain you to feel as I do now, that had I
never come to Christ before, I must come to him now, just now. Directly I
understand that: -- "Thou, O Christ, art all I want,More than all in thee I
find."Why, then, should I not come? Is it because I want something before I
come? Make the question your own. Where are you going to seek it? All things are
delivered unto Christ. To whom should you go for ought you crave? Is there
another who can aid you when Christ is in possession of all? Do you want a
tender conscience? Come to Christ for it. Do you want to feel the guilt of your
sin? Come to Christ to be made sensitive to its shame. Are you just what you
ought not to be? Come to Christ to be made what you ought to be, for everything
is in Christ. Is there any, thing that can be obtained elsewhere and brought to
him? The invitation to you is founded upon the explanation that accompanies it.
"All things are delivered unto me of my Father"; therefore, Come unto me all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." The argument is so
exclusive, that it only wants a willing mind to make it welcome. Only let God
the Holy Spirit bless the word, and sinners will come to Christ, for unto him
shall the gathering of the people be. Now note the next argument. Come to
Christ, ye labouring ones, because: -- III. HE IS AN INCONCEIVABLY GREAT
MEDIATOR.Where do I get that? Why, from this -- that no man knows him but the
Father. So great is he, so good, so full of all manner of precious store for
needy sinners. No man knows him but the Father. He is too excellent for our puny
understanding to estimate his worth. None but the infinite God can comprehend
his value as a Saviour. Has anyone here been saying, "Christ cannot save me; I
am such a big sinner"? You don't know him, my friend you don't know him. You are
measuring him according to your little insignificant notions. High as the
heavens are above the earth so high are his ways above your ways, and his
thoughts than your thoughts. You don't know him, sinner, and no one does know
him but his Father. Why, some of us who have been saved by him, thought when we
saw the blessed mystery of his substitutionary sacrifice, that we knew all about
him; but we have found that he grows upon our view the nearer we approach, and
the more we contemplate him. Some of you have now been Christians for thirty or
forty years, and you know much more of him than you used to do; but you do not
know him yet; your eyes are dazzled by his brightness; you do not know him. And
the happy spirits before the throne who have been there, some of them, three or
four thousand years, have hardly begun to spell the first letter of his name. He
is too grand and too good for them to comprehend. I believe that it will be, the
growing wonder in eternity to find out how precious a Christ, how powerful, how
immutable -- in a word, how divine a Christ he is. in whom we have trusted. Only
the infinite can understand the infinite. "God only knows the love of God,"and
only the Father understands the Son. Oh! I wish I had a week in which to talk on
this, instead of a few minutes! You want a great Saviour? Well, here he is.
Nobody can depict him, or describe him, or even imagine him, except the infinite
God himself. Come, then, poor sinner, sunken up to your neck in crime, black as
hell -- come unto him. Come, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and prove
him to be your Saviour. The fact that no one knows how great a Saviour he is
except his Father may encourage you. Now for another argument. Come to him
because: -- IV. HE IS AN INFINITELY WISE MEDIATOR.He is a mediator who
understands both persons on whose behalf he mediates. He understands you. He has
summed and reckoned you up, and he has made you out to be a heap sin and misery,
and nothing else. The glory of it is that he understands God, whom you have
offended, for it is written, "Neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son,"
and he knows the Father. Oh! what a mercy that is to have one to go before God
for me who knows him intimately. He knows his Father's will; he knows his
Father's wrath. No man knows it but himself. He has suffered it. He knows his
Father's love. He alone can feel it -- such love as God felt for sinners. He
knows how his Father's wrath has been turned away by his precious blood; he
knows the Father as a Judge whose anger no longer burns against those for whom
the Atonement has been made. He knows the Father's heart. He knows the Father's
secret purposes. He knows the Father's will is that whosoever seeth the Son and
believeth on him shall have everlasting life. He knows the decrees of God, and
yet he says, "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give, you rest." There is nothing in that contrary to the decrees of God; for
Jesus knows what the decrees are, and he would not speak in contradiction to
them. He knows God's requirements. Sinner, whatever it is God requires of you,
Christ knows what they are, and he is ready to meet them. "The law is holy, and
just, and good," and Jesus knows it, for the, law is in his heart. Justice is
very stern, and Jesus knows it, for Jesus has felt the edge of the sword of
justice, and knows all about it. He is fully equipped for the discharge of his
mediatorial office, and those that put their trust in him shall find that he
will bear them through. Often, when a prisoner at the bar has a barrister who
understands his work, and is perfectly competent for the defense, his friends
say to him, "Your case is safe, for if there is a man in England who can get you
through, it is that man." But my Master is an advocate who never lost a case. He
has a plea at the throne of God that never failed yet. Give him -- oh! give him
your cause to plead, nor doubt the Father's grace. Poor sinner, he is so wise an
advocate that you may well come to him, and he will give you rest. But I must
not weary you, although there is a fulness of matter on which I might enlarge.
With one other argument I conclude: -- V. HE IS AN INDISPENSABLE MEDIATOR.The
only mediator, so the text says. "Neither knoweth any man the Father, save the
Son." Christ knows the Father; no one else knows him, save the Son. There is
none other that can approach unto God. It is Christ for your Saviour, or no
Saviour at all. Salvation is in no other; and if you will not have Christ,
neither can you have salvation. Observe how that is. It is certain that no man
knows God except Christ. It is equally certain that no man can come, to God
except by Christ. He says it peremptorily; "No man cometh to the Father but by
me." Not less certain is it that no man can please the Father except through
Christ, for "without faith it is impossible to please him." No faith is worth
having except the grace that is founded and based upon the Lord Jesus Christ,
and him only. Oh! then, souls, since you are shut up to it by a blessed
necessity, say at once, "I will to the gracious Prince approach, and take Jesus
to be my all in all. "If I might hope you would do this early, I could go back
to my home and retire to my bed, praising God for the work that was done, and
the result that was achieved. Let us reiterate again and again the gospel we
have to declare, the very essence of the gospel it is which we proclaim. Trust
your souls with Jesus, and your souls are saved. He suffered in the room, and
place, and stead of all that trust him. If you rely upon him by an act of simple
faith, the simplest act in all the world, immediately you so rely you are
forgiven, your transgressions are blotted out for his name's sake. He stands in
spirit among us at this good hour, and says, "Come unto me, all ye that labour
and are heavy laden"; and he gives you these arguments, which ought to convince
you. I pray they may. He is an authorized Saviour, and a well-furnished Saviour.
He is the friend of God, and the friend of man. God grant you may accept him,
and find the boon which he alone can bestow. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 11: JOY IN SALVATION
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A Sermon (No.3503) Published on Thursday, March 16th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [11]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
July 30th, 1871. "I will rejoice in thy salvation." -- Psalm 9:4. I DESIRE to
continue the topic of the morning, only we will look at another side of the same
important matter. We spoke this morning, as you have not forgotten, upon these
words, "Your own salvation." I trust most of us -- would God I could hope all of
us -- were earnest about our own personal salvation. To those who are earnest
this second text will be the complement of the first. They desire that their own
salvation shall be secure; it is their own salvation when they obtain it; but
here is the guide as to what is the right salvation -- what our own salvation
ought to be. It is not our own in another sense; it is God's. "I will rejoice in
thy salvation." While it becomes our own by an act of faith, it is not our own
so that we can claim any merit or take any part of the glorying to ourselves.
The only salvation that is worth being our own is that which is God's. "I will
rejoice in thy salvation." Having this morning somewhat at length explained what
salvation is, showing that it was not a mere deliverance from wrath to come, but
from the present wrath of God, and yet more essentially from sin, from the power
of evil within us, there is no need that we should go over that again, I trust;
but we shall begin by noticing the speciality which is in the text, dwelling
upon the divine salvation. "I will rejoice in thy salvation." So, then, we look
at once at: -- I. A DIVINE SALVATION. The salvation we have already spoken of is
God's, and it is God's salvation in many ways. It was his in the planning. None
but himself could have planned it. In his infinite wisdom he devised it. The
salvation which is revealed in the person of Jesus Christ, in the gospel is
every part of it in all its architecture the fruit of divine skill. We may say,
"Or with whom took he counsel, and who instructed him, and who taught him
knowledge?" In every part the divine hand may be seen; it is of God's planning
and ordaining, or ever the earth was. So is it of God's providing. You have
salvation wrapped up in the gift of the person of Jesus Christ. All of it lies
in Christ. Because he died, our sin is put away. Because he lives, we shall live
also. And Christ is the pure gift of God. All salvation is in him, and,
therefore, all salvation is thus procured by God. It is God's salvation. And
what is more, God not only plans and procures, but he also applies salvation. I
believe in free agency, but I never yet met with a Christian man who was able to
say that he came to Christ of his own free will without being drawn by the
Spirit of God. Whatever our doctrinal view may be, the experimental fact is the
same in every case. All believers will confess that they are God's workmanship,
created anew in Christ Jesus. "No man can come unto me except the Father which
hath sent me draw him." There is a want of power. "Ye will not come unto me that
ye might have life." There is a want of will, and the Spirit of God, therefore,
applies the salvation which God has planned, and which God has provided. And as
the first application of this salvation is of God, so is it all the way through.
I do not believe, dear brethren, that our religion is like the action of a clock
wound up at first by a superior hand, and then left to go alone. No! every day
the Holy Ghost must continue to work upon us, and in us, to will and to do
according to God's good pleasure. And if you and I should ever get right up to
the gate of pearl, and should hear the songs of the blessed within that gate, we
should not be able to take the last step, but should turn back to our sin and
folly even, if he that began a good work in us should cease to carry it on. He
is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending. "Salvation is of the Lord,"
from first to last. He makes the rough draft of it, in conviction, upon our
conscience; he goes on to complete the picture; and if there be one touch in the
picture that is not of God, it is a blot upon it. If there be anything of the
flesh, it will have to be wiped out; it is not consistent with the work of God.
Of God is it in all respects. Now we know that this salvation is of God, not
only because we are told that he planned it, and provided it, and applies it,
but because it has the marks of God upon it. There is a certain line of poetry;
I know it is Shakespeare's. Well, you know, I cannot quite tell you why, but yet
I am sure no one ever wrote exactly in that way. I am reading the Psalms
through, and I read and I say, "That is David's." I observe certain critics who
say, "No, this belongs to the time of the captivity." I am certain it does not.
And why? Because there is a Davidic ring about it, you know. The son, of Jesse,
and he alone, could have said such things. Now in salvation there are the marks
of divine authorship. I once saw a painting by Titan at Venice, and he had
written, "Fecit, fecit Titian." He claimed it twice over, as if to make sure
that someone else should not claim it. And God has put it three times over that
there should be no doubt whatever that salvation is of God, and he must have the
glory of it. Now observe the marks of God -- what I may call the broad arrow of
the King -- set on salvation. It is full of mercy. Here is salvation for the
blackest of sinners -- salvation for all manner of sin -- forgiveness for all
manner of sin -- salvation so full of grace that only God could have conceived
it. "Who is a pardoning God like thee?" But this salvation is equally congenial
with justice, for God never absolutely forgives a sin. There is always
punishment for sin in every case. Jesus Christ, the Substitute, comes in and
satisfies Justice before the word is spoken to the sinner, "Thy transgression is
blotted out." In the salvation which God has provided on the cross by the death
of his dear Son there is as much justice as there is mercy; and there is an
infinity of both. Now this is God-like. Man, if he brings out one quality,
usually clouds another with it; but God exhibits his character in harmonious
completeness -- as merciful as if he were not just, and as just as if he were
not gracious. In the gospel, on this account, five see also divine wisdom.
Whatever some may say about the doctrine of substitution, Christ is still the
power of God and the wisdom of God. The way, so simple, yet so sublime, by which
God is just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth, exhibits the infinite
wisdom of the Most High.But I won't keep you by mentioning all the divine
attributes. It is certain they all shine in the gospel, nor can any tell which
of the letters best is writ -- the power, the wisdom, or the grace. They are all
there, proving the salvation to be of God. And there is one other matter. True
salvation is of God because it draws toward God. If thou hast God's salvation,
thou art being drawn towards thy heavenly Father, nearer and nearer every day.
The ungodly forget God; the awakened seek God; but the saved rejoice in God. Ask
thyself this question, Couldst thou live without God? The ungodly man would be
happier without God than he is with. It would be the best piece of news in the
newspaper to thousands, if we could publish it to-morrow, that God was dead. To
ungodly men it would be like ringing the bells of universal Joy; they would run
riot after their own will. And where would the believer be? He would be an
orphan. His sun would be blotted out; his hopes would be dead and buried. Judge
by this whether thou art saved. If thou art saved, thou art drawn to God, thou
seekest to be like God, thou desirest to honour God. If there be none of these
things in thee, then I charge thee see to it, for thou art in the gall of
bitterness, and in the bonds of iniquity. God have mercy upon thee! I need not
further say that the salvation is of God, and God must have all the glory of it.
All on earth who are saved, and all in heaven who are saved, will ascribe their
salvation entirely to the ever blessed God, and join with Jonah, who in the very
depths of the sea made this, his confession of faith, "Salvation is of the
Lord." But now, secondly, our text (having noticed the divine salvation in it)
has: -- II. AN OUTSPOKEN AVOWAL."I will rejoice in thy salvation." Here is
someone springing out from the common crowd and saying, "I have heard of God's
salvation; I will rejoice in it! I will rejoice in it! Some despise it. They
hear it, and they turn a deaf ear. When they have listened to it longest, they
are most weary of it. But I will rejoice in thy salvation." Here is a
distinguished character, who is made so, doubtless, by distinguishing grace. Oh!
I hope there are many of us here who could stand up and say -- if this were the
time and place -- "Let others say what they will, and count the cross a thing to
mock at, and Jesus Christ to be forgotten, I am his servant; I will rejoice in
his salvation." There are some that rest in another salvation. We all did so
once. But he who speaks in the text throws aside self-righteousness as filthy
rags. He puts it all aside, and says, "I will rejoice in thy salvation." If I
were righteous, I would not say so. Had I a perfect holiness, I would not
mention it in comparison with the righteousness of Christ; but being an unworthy
sinner, without a single merit of my own, I will not be so foolish as to patch
up a fictitious righteousness, but I will rejoice in thy salvation. You see them
there! -- those worshippers of the scarlet woman -- they are resting in their
priest! He puts on millinery, blue, pink, scarlet, white, and I know not what --
all kinds of little toys to please fools with. And there be some that rejoice in
that salvation that comes from an "infallible" sinner -- that comes from a sham
priest of God. But we are looking to Christ, who stands before the eternal
throne and pleads the merits of his own blood. We say: -- "Let all the forms
that men deviseAssault our faith with treacherous art,We'll Can them vanity and
liesAnd bind the gospel to our heart.""I will rejoice in thy salvation." There
may be some tonight to whom I shall speak who are rejoicing in God's salvation
through his abundant grace who have very little else to rejoice in. You are very
poor. Ah! how welcome you are to this house! How glad I am that you have come. I
feel it always a joy that the people have the gospel preached to them. Well, you
have no broad acres, you have no gold rings on your fingers; you come in the
garb of toil. Never mind, my brother, lay hold on eternal life and say, "I will
rejoice in thy salvation." Perhaps you are sick to-night -- your poor weak body
could scarcely drag itself up to the assembly of God's people. Well, well, it is
a heavy thing to have to suffer so, but if you cannot rejoice in a hale body,
yet rejoice in his salvation. Look to-night to Jesus; put your trust in him
alone, and you will have a sufficient well-spring of joy, if you have nothing
else. Possibly some of you who lay hold on Christ and rejoice in him will have
hard times of it at home your father will mock at you, your mother will not
sympathise with you; your workmates to-morrow, if they hear that you are
converted, will laugh, and jest, and jeer at you. What say you? Are you a
coward? Will you back out of it because it demands a sacrifice? Oh! if it be so,
then you are indeed unworthy of the name, and you count yourself so; but if you
are what you should be, you will say, "Let them; laugh at me as they will, and
spit upon me as they please, I will rejoice in thy salvation.""If on my face for
thy dear name,Shame and reproach may be;I'll hail reproach and welcome shame,For
thou'lt remember me."It takes some pluck, but we ought to have it in the cause
of Christ. Your mean, miserable wretches that will only go out to follow Christ
in sunny weather, and get them gone again when a cloud darkens the sky, deserve
well the wrath that comes upon them. They are like the Nautilus, very well on
the placid sea, but the first billow that arises they furl their sails and drop
into the deep, and are seen no more. Oh! beware, beware, beware of a
sunny-weather religion; beware of a religion that will not stand the fire; but
be you such that, if all the world forsook Christ, you would say, "I will
rejoice in his salvation"; and if you were turned out of doors, if you were
turned out of the world itself, and thought not fit, to live, you would yet be
content to have it so, if you might be numbered with the people of God, and be
permitted to rejoice in his salvation. Does this, as I try to speak it, awaken a
holy emotion in any soul here? Is there someone who has been a stranger to my
Lord who to-night can say, "I desire to rejoice in his salvation"? I cannot
forget, when I sat as a young lad under the gallery of a little place of
worship, hearing the gospel simply preached -- the blessed moment when I was led
to resolve to follow Christ. I have never been ashamed of having done so. I have
never had to regret it. He is a blessed Master. He has handled me roughly
lately, but he is a blessed Master. I would follow at his heels if only like a
dog, for it is better to be his dog than to be the devil's darling. He is a
blessed Master. Let him say what he will, and do what he will. Oh! is there no
young man here, no youth, no child, no girl; is there no gray-headed one who
will say, "I will rejoice in thy salvation" O eternal Spirit, come and touch
some heart, and make this, their spiritual birthright, that they may say, "I --
I -- I will rejoice in thy salvation." But we must pass on, for time presses. We
have, in the third place, to consider in the text: -- III. A DELIGHTFUL
EMOTION.We have noticed the divine salvation, and the outspoken avowal; now we
will notice the delightful emotion. "I will rejoice in thy salvation." It is an
unfortunate thing that Christianity gets associated with melancholy. I will not
forbid the banns, for they are not very near of kin, but I wish they were
further apart every day. It is a good thing for the melancholy to become a
Christian; it is an unfortunate thing for the Christian to become melancholy. If
there is any man in the world that has a right to have a bright, clear face and
a flashing eye, it is the man whose sins are forgiven him, and who is saved with
God's salvation. In order for any man, however, to rejoice in God's salvation,
he must, first of all, know it. There must be an intelligent apprehension of
what it is. Next, he must grasp it by an act of faith as his own. Then, having
grasped it, he must study it to know the price at which it was bought, and all
the qualities -- the divine qualities that follow from it. Then he must hold it
fast, and seek to get out the sweetness from it. What is there in God's
salvation that should make us rejoice? I do not know what to select, for it is
all joy and all rejoicing. It is enough to make our heart to ring with joy to
think that there should be a salvation at all for such poor souls as we are. We
may well hang out all the streamers of our spirits, and strew the streets of our
soul with flowers, for King Jesus has come to dwell there. Ring every bell; give
him a glorious welcome. Let all the soul be glad when Jesus enters and brings
salvation with him, for the salvation of Christ is so suitable that we may well
rejoice in it. Dear brother, if you are saved, I know the salvation of Christ
suited you. It did me -- exactly -- it was made on purpose for me. I am as sure
of it as if there were no other sinner to be saved. It was the gospel that
brought power to the weak, nay, it brought life to the dead; it brought
everything to those that had nothing; it is just the sort of gospel for a
penniless, bankrupt sinner like myself. We rejoice in the suitability of the
gospel; we rejoice in the freeness of it. We have nothing to pay; we have no
price to pay, neither of promise, nor of anything that was our own. Salvation
was freely given to us in Christ Jesus. Let us rejoice in it, then. Oh! rejoice
in the richness of that salvation. When the Lord pardoned our sins, he did not
pardon half of them, and leave some of them on the book, but with one stroke of
the pen he gave a full receipt for all our debts. When we went down into the
fountain filled with blood, and washed, we did not come up half-clean, but there
was no spot nor wrinkle upon us -- we were white as driven snow. Glory be to God
for such a rich salvation as this. And he did not in that day save us with a
perhaps and a chance salvation that set us on a rock, and say, "Keep yourself
there -- you must depend upon yourselves", but this was the covenant he made
with us, "A new heart also will I give thee, and a right spirit will I put
within thee." It was a complete salvation, which would not permit a failure. The
salvation, which is given to the soul that believes is on this wise, "I give
unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck
them out of my hand." "The water that I shall give him shall be a well of water
springing up unto everlasting life." I believe the perseverance of the saints to
be the very gem of the gospel. I could not hold the truth of Scripture if this
could be disproved to me, for every page seems to have this upon it, if nothing
else, that "the righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands
shall wax stronger and stronger." In this my soul rejoices, that I have a
salvation to preach to you which, if you receive it, will effectually save you
if your hearts are given to Christ, and will keep you, and preserve you, and
bring you into the eternal kingdom of his glory. I will rejoice in the certain
and abiding character of that salvation. Oh! there is enough in the salvation of
Christ to make heaven full of bliss; there is enough to make us full of praise.
Let us take up the theme; let us talk by the way to one another about it; let us
talk to sinners about it; let us recommend religion by our cheerfulness. Levity
be far from us, but happiness let it be the happiest sphere in which we live if
we have little else to rejoice in, we have enough here. Whatever may be our
condition or prospects, we may still rejoice in God's salvation, and let us not
fail to be filled with this most blissful emotion.And now I must close. The text
has in it a word of the future which we must not quite overlook. Here is a
joyful gospel, "I will rejoice in thy salvation." You may read it if you like,
"I shall" -- "I shall" or "I will" -- it would be quite right. The Hebrew has no
present. It seems to have given up all tenses -- like God himself who was, and
is, and is to come. I shall rejoice in thy salvation. Now here is: IV. A BLESSED
PROSPECT.You may live to grow old; well, we shall never grow weary of Christ. If
we are his people, we shall never have any cause to part from him; "I will
rejoice in thy salvation." I could bring up to this platform an aged brother
whom all of you would know, who has infirmities and has age creeping upon him,
but there is not a happier soul in this house than he; and when I had made him
speak to you, I could bring you many more aged women too, and I would ask them
what they think of Christ, and I am sure they would say with greater emphasis
than I can, "I will rejoice in thy salvation." I almost wish my grandfather were
alive and behind me to-night, for on one occasion I preached with him in the
pulpit, and when I came to speak of experience he pulled my coat-tail and came
to the front, and said,"My grandson can tell you that he believes it, but I can
tell you experimentally," and on the old gentleman went with it. Well, many an
aged Christian can tell you he has rejoiced in God's salvation. He does rejoice,
and, instead of age making the joy of his youth to become dim, it has mellowed
and sweetened the fruit, which was sweet even at the first. Oh! that we may,
when these hairs grow hoar with years, and the snows of many winters lie white
upon our head, may we still rejoice in God's salvation. But then, whether we
reach old age or not, there is one thing that is certain -- we shall assuredly
die, and when we come to die, what shall we do? I know what you are thinking of.
You say, "I should groan." Ay, sinner, you are thinking of the friend that is
wiping away the clammy sweat from the brow and those closed eyes. Now those may
never occur. We often hear them mentioned in reference to dying beds, but they
are not so constantly there as to be, necessary. And if they were there' if we
did lose sight itself before life fails -- what then? Why, the vision of the
Christ, who is our salvation, and in whom we rejoice, shall then be more
gloriously clear and radiantly beautiful, because the sights and sounds of earth
have vanished from us.Now, instead of looking at these outward parts of dying,
think of this, "I will rejoice in thy salvation." When I parted from our dear
brother, Cook, a few days ago, he could not say much. He was very, very weak,
but what he did say was just this, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus is all." Well, I talked,
and read, and prayed, and so on, and when we had done, he simply said, "The
blood -- the blood, the blood -- that is all my hope." Why, he looked as calm in
prospect of dying as any of you do in sitting here, and was as delighted with
the hope of being where Jesus is as ever bride was at the coming of the marriage
day. It was delightful to see the blessed calm and peace that was upon that man
of God. And when I come to die, whoever I may be, however little my standing in
the Church of God is, if I am in Christ, I will rejoice in his salvation; I will
make the dark valley ring with his praises; I will make the river of death
itself to roll back as the Red Sea did of old, with my triumphant songs; I will
enter heaven with this upon my heart and upon my lip,'I will rejoice in thy
salvation! Worthy is the Lamb that was stain to receive honour, and power, and
dominion, and glory for ever and ever!" And, brethren, if that is what we may do
in dying, this is what we shall do for ever and ever, "I will rejoice in thy
salvation." Millions of ages, throughout all the cycles of years that interpose
ere Christ delivers up the kingdom to God, even the Father, and then onward,
even through eternity, this always shall be our own ground of rejoicing, "I will
rejoice in thy salvation."Now I cannot come and stand at the door and speak to
everyone as the congregation withdraws, but if it were possible I should like to
stand there and shake the hand of everyone that has been in the house to-night,
and say, "Well, friend, how fares it with you?" Can you say, 'I will rejoice in
thy salvation?'" If I cannot do that, I wish it were possible to speak in the
silent shades of night to you when you awoke, so that you might hear a voice
ringing in your ears, "Do you rejoice in God's salvation?" Perhaps some of you
may have come a long distance across the sea. You may be by-and-by on shipboard
again. It may be that you will be in peril, or it may be that afterwards you
shall be in sickness. Well, may this evening's congregation in this day of July
rise up before your minds, and if you forget the preacher (and that will not
matter), yet if you hear a voice that says, "Can you rejoice in God's
salvation?" I hope that, even if it is twenty years to come, it may then be as
the voice of God to your soul, and bring you to the Saviour. But better far
would it be if you would come to him tonight and you may. May the Spirit of God
bring you! Whosoever believeth on the Lord Jesus Christ hath everlasting life.
The whole of the gospel is wrapped up in Christ's message, which he has sent by
his apostles, "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." To you each
this -- this -- is the word, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt
be saved, and thy house." God add his own blessing, for Christ's sake. Amen.
*"Your Own Salvation," Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, 1,003.


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  CHAPTER 12: FOLLOWING CHRIST
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A Sermon (No.3504) Published on Thursday, March 23rd, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [12]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
August 22nd, 1889. "And Ittai answered the king, and said, as the Lord liveth,
and as my lord the king liveth, surely in what place my lord the king shall be,
whether in death or life, even there also will thy servant be." -- 2 Samuel
15:21. SOME men have a very remarkable power of creating and sustaining
friendship in others. David was a man brimming over with affection -- a man,
notwithstanding all his rough soldier-life, of an exceedingly tender heart -- a
man, I was about to say -- the word was on my tongue -- a man of vast humanity.
I mean, there was a great deal of manhood about him. He was all that other men
are, had suffered their sorrows, and had tasted their joys, and, there fore, I
suppose it was that he had a large power of attraction about him, and brought
others to himself. But there is one Man more than man, whose attracting
influence is greater than that of all men put together. In the person of the
Lord Jesus Christ we see gentleness, meekness, and tenderest affection, and we
see the most hearty sympathy with everything that belongs to manhood. Such a
vast heart has the Master, such boundless, disinterested affection, such human
sympathy; so near is he to every one of us in his life, and in his experiences,
that he attracts the sons of men to himself, and when he is lifted up he draws
men unto him, and afterwards, by the cords of his love, he draws them unto
himself. It is in the hope that some here may feel the sweet attractions of
Christ that I have selected this text, anxiously praying that some here may so
give themselves to Christ s never to leave him: and that others who have already
done may be confirmed in their solemn resolution that, in whatsoever place their
Master, the Son of David, the King, shall be, there also will they be as his
servants, whether in life or in death. Now this resolution, if any here have
formed it, and I know many have -- this resolution that surely in what place the
Lord Jesus shall be, whether in death or in life, even there will we, his
servants, be, in the first place, is: -- I. A GOOD RESOLUTION -- one which can
be supported by abundant reasons.Let me say, in opening out this assertion, that
Jesus deserves of all who have really tasted of his grace such faithful service,
such unswerving following in all cases and under all circumstances. Who else has
ever done for us what Jesus has? Our mother brought us forth, but he has given
to us a second birth. Our mother candled us upon her knee, but he has borne us
all the days of old, and even to hoar hairs will he carry his people. We have
had many kindnesses from friends, but never such love as Jesus showed when, we
being his enemies, he yet redeemed us with his most precious blood. Think of
these three words, and try to measure what they mean -- Gethsemane -- Gabbatha
-- Golgotha. Let those three words awaken your adoring memories. Gethsemane --
with its garden and bloody sweat for you. Gabbatha -- with its scourging, its
mocking, its shame and spitting for you. Golgotha -- with its cross and the five
flowing wounds, and all the bitterness of the divine wrath, and the torment of
death itself, for you. Men have been known to give away their lives cheerfully
for some great military leader whose genius has commanded their admiration, but
they were fools to throw their lives away, after all, for these men had done but
little or nothing for them to make them their servants and slaves. But this Man,
my brethren, if we had a thousand lives, and were to give them all, yet would
deserve more of us, for he hath redeemed us from going down into the pit, saved
us from flames that never shall be quenched, and from a pit that is darkness
itself. By the eternal woe from which the blood of Christ hath uplifted us, let
us, who believe that we have been redeemed from hell, consecrate ourselves for
ever to follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. His cross is despised; let us be
despised with it, for he bore shame for us. His truth is counted a lie; let us
be willing to be regarded as liars, for he had reproach cast on him. Sometimes
to defend his cause has required the loss of all things; be it ours. if needs
be, to lose all things for him who gave up all -- and what an all that was! --
the bliss of heaven, and a life itself for us, that he might redeem our souls.
The deserts of Jesus are such that it would need an angel's tongue to tell them
out, even though it were but in brief catalogue. Look at him in what he is
himself as his Father's darling. Look at his character; was there ever such
another? Survey the beauties of his person -- were there ever such charms
commingled before? Think of his life, and of his death, and of what he is doing
still before the throne, and surely you will feel that it is but right and just
that, with Jesus, You should enter into the ship and, with him, sail the ocean
over, be it rough or be it smooth.Moreover, brethren, to keep close to Jesus
Christ is right. It is in itself to keep close to integrity, for the Lord Jesus
never stepped out of the right path. He never asks any of his followers to do
anything which be a breach of the right, or which will make them turn aside from
uprightness. If we could put our feet down exactly where his feet went down,
even though we had to walk up to Calvary itself, it would be our duty so to do,
for his path was perfect rectitude, and in him was no sin. We challenge heaven,
with its omniscience, to detect a flaw in him. We challenge hell, with its
malice, to discover in him an aught that is amiss. Lovers of the right and of
the true, ask grace that you may be as he was. You cannot be more eminent for
virtue than he. You cannot serve your God better. You cannot do better than keep
close to every step that he has taken, and, whether in life or in death, to
follow him. It is right, then, because he deserves it; it is right, again
because in itself it is according to the eternal rules of equity.And, my
brethren, there is another argument why we should cleave to Jesus, and it is
this -- wherefore should we leave him? Can anybody suggest a reason why the
lover of Christ should turn from him? Polyearp was asked that he should curse
Christ, and he replied, "Wherefore should I curse him? "The, assembly in the
amphitheatre could give no answer to that; all hell could never give a reply to
that. What hath he done, what hath he done that we should leave him? What can he
have done, and what is there that the world can offer that would ever repay us
for leaving him? Could we so false, so traitorous prove as to turn away from
Christ, what should we gain? A little pleasure, gone in a moment, like thorns
that crackle beneath the pot. What should we lose, my brethren? We should lose
the joy of life; we should lose our support in tribulation; we should lose our
hope in death; we should lose heaven, to inherit nothing but the blackness of
darkness for ever. I cannot conceive a bribe heavy enough to weigh against him;
I cannot imagine an honour bright enough to compare with him. I cannot conceive
a disgrace that can be black enough to compare with the disgrace of deserting
him. The silver mine of Demas is a poor reward for selling his Master. All the
wealth of India, could it be poured into one's lap, were but a mockery of a soul
that damned itself by casting away its confidence in Christ. To whom should we
go, Master; to whom should we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. To leave
Christ would be the meanest thing of which any could be capable. I suppose the
devil himself, with all that ho has ever done, has never been able to compass a
wickedness that would equal the wickedness, if it were possible, of a truly
gracious soul deliberately deserting Jesus for the world, for such a soul knows
the hollowness of this world's joys; such a soul knows something of the
sweetness of Jesus; such a spirit has been with him, and has learned of him, has
had the enlightenments of his grace, has learned the faithfulness of his promise
and the love of his heart. Oh! could such a thing be, could the Lord's grace so
utterly leave a believer that he should turn out an apostate after all, there is
need to dig another hell, as much lower than hell as hell is lower than the
earth; there is need to kindle yet more furious flames; seven times hotter might
the furnace be heated for such an apostate. Glory be to God, it shall not be.
"Grace will complete what grace begins,To save from sorrows and from sinsThe
work which wisdom undertakes,Eternal mercy never forsakes."But I speak thus to
let you see how reasonable how abundantly necessary it is that we should cling
close to Christ in life and death, and that where he is there we should be.
There is no need to reason further, as the time is brief, and so let us notice
now, in the second place, that: -- II. THIS RESOLUTION, THOUGH GOOD IN ITSELF,
SHOULD BE MADE WITH GREAT DELIBERATION, SINCE IT WILL MOST CERTAINLY BE
TRIED.Ah! young brother, you to -- day can sing, as others did: -- "'Tis done,
the great transactions done";and you sang and felt a joy in singing that last
verse: -- "High heaven that heard the solemn vow,That vow renewed shall daily
hearTill in life's latest hour I bow,And bless in death a bond so dear"but do
you know your weakness? If there were no temptation from without, you are fickle
enough in yourself. Ah! we might sooner trust the wind or rely upon the glassy
waves of the ocean than trust our own frail resolutions. We are changeable, we
are false; our hearts are deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.
Let him that putteth on his harness take care not to boast as him that putteth
it off. There are dangers ahead and many trials. All is not gold that glitters.
Firm resolutions are not always kept; yea, let me add they are never kept if
they are made, in your own strength; they will go most surely, and you that
promised to stand fast will soon turn aside.But, in addition to our own
fickleness, we must expect many things to try this resolution. There will be,
with some of you, the jeers and sneers of those you work with. They will call
you ill names. Perhaps they have began it already. Well, but you do not know
what they can invent. The Christian soldier has a gauntlet to run. The Christian
worker in many a large factory has to endure a lifelong martyrdom. Men will
invent all sorts of gibes and jeers against a believer in Christ, and it is fine
sport to pelt a Christian. Can ye cleave to your Lord, then? Oh! if you cannot,
you do not know him, for he is worth ten thousand times ten thousand sneers, and
you should count it a joy to be permitted to bear a scoff for him. Now are you
in your measure partakers with the noble host of martyrs. You cannot in these
softer days earn the ruby crown of martyrdom, but you have, at least, the trial
of cruel mockings. Bear up manfully, and meet their mockery with your holy
bravery and patient endurance.And you will have, probably, a worse trial than
that, and that is to see those who professed to go with you, as you thought,
turn aside. Oh! to young Christians, this is very staggering. Those of us who
are older feel this to be a very peculiar cross in church life, to be associated
with those who are cold-hearted and dead while they profess to be Christians,
who, after all, ere long betray their hypocrisy; but to young people it seems
often almost staggering. If such a man is not a good man, who can be? Is there
anything at all in religion if such a man, after all, should turn out to be a
deceiver? Oh! but, dear brethren, if you love Christ, you will not turn aside
because some of his friends have forsaken him, for a true friend sticks closer
then. Like this good man Ittai, that we are speaking of, you will say, "I never
thrust myself on David before; I kept in the background, but now that this
rascally Ahithopel has left him, I will go now and offer him my kind and
affectionate greetings." It ought always to make you who love Christ become
bolder when these villains turn aside, for now you should say that it behaves
every honest man to play the man and come to his friend. If these turn tail,
then should the true-hearted lead the van for Christ and for his truth, and if
it should even come to pass that a standard-bearer should desert his flag,
spring forward, young man, and grasp it in the stead of him, but never because
of that turn aside from your Lord.Alas! brethren, you may expect, perhaps, to
have sterner trials than these. If you resolve to cling to Jesus Christ with
constancy, you must expect to have many trials. God loves to try his people that
he may get glory out of their trials, and I am sorry to say I have known some
who in the depths of poverty, when it has suddenly come upon them like an armed
man, have felt as if religion itself could not support them, and they have
actually given up their profession. It is poor Christianity that cannot bear the
loss of all things. Now you may be poor yet, and you may be sore sick, but may
you have such faith as that you may be able to say, "Though he slay me, yet will
I trust in him." It is no gold if it will not stand the fire, and it is no grace
if it will not bear affliction.You may expect to have great depression of spirit
within. Some of us know what this is very, very frequently. There are times when
the joy of religion is gone, and our soul is in the dark, and yet is feeling
after God, blessed be his name; but this is the pinch, to believe in an angry
Christ, to hold to his hand and never let him go, though that hand should seem
to pull itself away; to lodge with Christ when he gives you no supper; to go and
sleep in Christ's bed when he has not made it, but left it hard for you; to say,
"With my desire have I desired thee in the night, and with my spirit will I seek
thee early." May you have faith like that faith, that will not, under any
difficulties, turn aside from Christ. Thus you see, then, that this resolution
will be a tried one, and between here and heaven God knows what trials will
befall us. But again: -- III. THIS RESOLUTION MAY BE CARRIED OUT.What I have
said might tempt you to declare that you would not try it, but it may be carried
out. There are thousands, tens of thousands upon earth who have been with Jesus
wherever he has been throughout the whole of their lives, and will be with him
in death, and after death; and there are millions -- there they stand -- wearing
their white robes and waving their palms. Listen; you may almost hear their
song. These are they that overcame; they endured unto the end; they came through
great tribulation, and washed their robes in the Lamb's blood, and, therefore,
are they before the throne of God. What was done, in them may be done in you.But
how was it, then, that they held on and kept close to their Lord? Answer -- it
was not in their own strength; it was the Holy Spirit, who day by day preserved
them, led them in knowledge and true holiness, purged them from sin, and at last
made them to enter upon the heritage of the perfect. There was not a single
moment in which they persevered apart from the Spirit's strength. Poor human
nature at its best must start aside like a broken bow. 'Tis only grace that
holds a single Christian, and well and truly do we sing in that hymn: -- "'Tis
grace that's kept me till this day,And will not let me go."Now, subject to the
power of the Holy Spirit, the way to accomplish our resolve to be with Christ as
his servants for ever, is, first of all, to be much in prayer. If you cannot
persevere with God, you are not likely to persevere in contest with man. More
prayer, beloved, many of you want. As your temptations grow, let your prayers
become more intense and full of fire, and conquer hell by assaulting heaven. You
shall prevail against all temptations if you can prevail with God.Remember, too,
that joined to that prayer there must be much holy fear. "Happy is the man,"
says Solomon, "that feareth always" -- not the fear that is distrustful and
suspicious of God, but the fear that is distrustful and more than suspicious of
self; the fear that is conscious of inward weakness and depravity, that dares
not into temptation go, but asks to have its eyes turned aside from beholding
vanity, lest the look should lead to the desire, and the desire should engender
the act.With holy fear there must be much careful walking. He that would
persevere to heaven must not hope to go there pell-mell helter-skelter,
heedless, careless, thoughtless as to his daily life. There must be
self-examination, self-inspection, watchfulness incessantly. An arrow may pierce
thee between any joint of thy armour unless thou hold the shield of faith to
catch its barbed shaft, and quench its barbarous flame. God grant thee grace to
walk carefully and humbly with thy God.To persevere in grace we must seek to use
all the means of grace that can assist us -- not forsaking the assembling of
ourselves together, as the manner of some is; not neglecting either private or
public prayer; using what grace we have if we expect to get more; doing what we
can for God, as we expect him to do all for us; in fine, working out our own
salvation with fear and trembling, because it is God that worketh in us to will
and to do of his own good pleasure. If these things be in you and abound, they
shall be the means of preserving you, and you shall be among. the happy number
that shall sing, " Now unto him that is able to keep us from falling, and to
present us faultless before his presence with exceeding joys unto him be glory
for ever and ever. Amen." And now, fourthly and lastly: -- IV. THIS RESOLUTION
MAY BE ACCOMPLISHED IN AN EMPHATIC SENSE.Understand me, for here it is that I
wish to appeal to believers in Christ. This man Ittai said, " Surely in what
place that my lord the king shall be, whether in death or in life, even there
also will thy servant be." You can follow Christ in a general way in the.
activities of Christian life, and so on, but there is a peculiar way of
following him. You can get, by God's grace, very near your Master, and by still
greater grace you can keep near to him, and keep near to him all your lives. I
have never been able to hope for perfection in the flesh, but I believe that
even Christian ought to strain after even perfection itself. I am afraid we have
fixed. the standard of what a Christian may be a deal too low; of what a.
Christian should be it would not be possible to fix the standard too high. It is
not needful for a Christian to be sometimes with Christ, and sometimes to lose
fellowship. It is not necessary for a Christian to be full of doubts and fears.
I met an elderly Christian some years ago who is now in heaven, whose word
certainly I could never dare to have doubted, who told me that by the space of
forty years he had never had a doubt of his own acceptance in the Beloved, and
though he had had many troubles and trials, he did not know that his communion
with Christ had once been interrupted. I marvelled at him, but I marvelled a
great deal more at myself that I had not tried to get into the same place. Why
not? If you are straitened, it certainly is not in your God; you are straitened
in your own bowels. He never gave you legitimate cause to doubt him, nor did he
ever give you a reasonable excuse for forsaking fellowship with him. Let us, oh!
let us aim at keeping as near to Jesus as John did, and not, like Peter, follow
afar off. Let it be the great prayer of our lives: "Abide with me from morn till
eve,For without thee I cannot live."Let us ask that our communion may be kept up
in business hours as well as in the private closet, that we may walk with Christ
on tile Exchange and in the street, as well as in the Tabernacle, or in the
public engagements of worship. Why need we leave him, Certainly he will not
leave us. Oh! that we may cling to him closely, cling to him and hold him fast.
I like the saying of a dying negro boy, who was asked why he felt so happy in
the thought of going to heaven. and he said, "I want to go to heaven principally
because Jesus is there." "Well," said they, "but do you always want to be with
Jesus, then, and with nobody else?" "Yes," said he, "I only care to be where
Jesus is. "But suppose Jesus were to leave heaven?" Said he, "I would go with
him." "But suppose Jesus went to hell, what then?" "Ah!" said the boy, "but
there could not be any hell where Jesus was; I would go with Jesus wherever he
might go." Oh! that we had that kind of spirit, and that desire ever more, not
to be self-seeking, nor world-seeking, nor getting our joy out of common
pleasures, nor hunting after comfort where it cannot be found in these low-land
joys; but let us seek to be on the wing with our Master, up aloft, dwelling in
the land of communion. where Jesus lets out his very heart to his people, and
reveals himself to them as he cloth not unto the world. The Lord give to this
church many of those favoured men and women, whose communion shall be with the
Father, and with his Son, Jesus Christ. Oh! it is the happiest, holiest, safest,
richest. most useful kind of life. God grant it to you.But oh! dear friends,
there are some here to whom all this talk is nothing for they have never taken
up the cross of King Jesus at all. Do you know it is very seldom I come into
this pulpit, very seldom indeed, without my seeing here and there that mournful
colour which indicates that another person has departed this life? We are so
numerous that there are two or three deaths every week, and sometimes five or
six, and as I happen to know when each one is taken away I am continually
reminded of the mortality of my congregation -- never twice alike -- never under
any circumstances -- always some here that will never be here again or were not
here before; always some here who are just on the brink of the grave. Now I
speak to you to-night who may, though you know it not, be on the brink of the
grave, and I shall ask you to put to yourselves this question, How will it fare
with you when you pass into the spirit-world, and stand before your God, when
you are not reckoned as a friend of Christ, but have to take your stand among
his enemies? You would not wish to take that place even to-night. You are
halting between two opinions; but, my dear friend, that halting of yours must
come to an end very soon, or otherwise death will decide it, and where death
finds you judgment will leave you, and hell will continue you. Oh! I pray you
lay hold on eternal life, and this night cast in your lot with Christ. Oh! he is
the brightest leader ever soldier had. He is the fairest Prince under whom
anyone could serve. His cause is such as will ennoble you. To fight under his
banner makes each private soldier into a prince, ennobles each one into a king.
Before thou canst serve him, remember thou must be washed by him. There is a
fountain filled with blood; if thou cost trust him, that blood will make thee
white as snow. If thou cost trust him now, his Holy Spirit will give thee grace
to enlist in his army, and to continue a faithful soldier until thou shalt lay
down thy battle with thy life, and cease at once to fight and live, and enter
into the victory for ever and ever. By the horror of Christ's defeated foes.
among whom I would not have you numbered; by the glory of Christ's victorious
friends, among whom I would fain see you muster, look unto Christ and live
to-night, and may he help you to do so. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 13: A MIRACLE OF GRACE
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A Sermon (No.3505) Published on Thursday, March 30th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [13]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "So Manasseh made Judah
and the inhabitants of Jerusalem to err, and to do worse than the heathen, whom
the Lord had destroyed before the children of Israel. And the Lord spake to
Manasseh and to his people; but they would not hearken. Wherefore the Lord
brought upon them the captains of the host of the king of Assyria, which took
Manasseh among the thorns, and bound him with fetters, and carried him to
Babylon. And when he was in affliction, he besought the Lord, his God, and
humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed unto him and
he was entreated of him, and heard his supplication, and brought him again to
Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord he was God." -- 2
Chron.33:9-13. MANASSEH was born three years after his father's memorable
sickness. You will remember that Hezekiah was stricken with a mortal disease,
and Isaiah, the prophet, come to him and said, "Thus saith the Lord, Set thine
house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live." He appears to have been
startled and appalled at the tidings, and gave vent to his feelings with bitter
tears. Evidently he was afraid at the time to face death. He had probably been
indulging a worldly spirit; and besides this, it lay as a heavy burden upon his
heart that he had no son whom he should leave as his successor in the kingdom.
In deep distress of soul, accordingly, he turned to the wall and prayed to the
Lord. With piteous weeping and earnest pleading he besought that his life might
be spared. His prayer was heard, his tears were seen, and his petition was
granted by God. His days were prolonged by fifteen years. In the third year of
those fifteen years his son Manasseh was born to hire. Had he knows, methinks,
what sort of a son would have risen up in his stead, he might have been content
to die, rather than to be the father of such a persecutor of God's people, and
such a setter up of idolatry in the land. Alas! full often we know not what we,
pray for. We may be covetous of an apparent boon which would prove to be a real
curse both to ourselves and to thousands of others. You prayed, mother -- yea,
prayed fervently -- for the life of that dear babe whom God was pleaded to take
away from you. You cannot know what disposition the child would have shown, what
temptations would have befallen it, or what consequences would have come of its
life. Could some parents have read the history of their children from the day of
their birth, they might rightly have wished that they had never been born. We
had better leave such matters with God, and submit to his sovereign will. He
knows better than we do, for ho is wonderful in counsel and excellent in
working. Thank God, these affairs are not in our own hands. They are in far
better and wiser keeping than ours. Manasseh's mother was named Hephzi-bah, a
beautiful name. I wonder whether Hezekiah gave her the name because she was his
delight, or because his gratitude inspired it, as he was then himself delighting
in his God. I can scarcely think that at such a time he would have chosen one
who had not also chosen God; therefore, let us think of her as a godly woman.
But in that case she could have had little enough delight in her son; and
sometimes, I should think, when she saw him pursuing the people of God with the
sword, and sinning with a high hand, she must have been ready to say, "Call me
no more Hephzi-bah, but call me Marah, for the Lord hath dealt bitterly with
me." It is not always that the thing which makes us glad to-day will make us
glad to-morrow likewise. Let children be accounted a heritage of the Lord. They
are the joy of our hearts and the flowers of our homes. But what will they be to
us when the gay, guileless, sportive days of their childhood have run out?
Unless God sends his blessing with them, the increase of our families may be the
sorrow of our lives. Evil passions and propensities develop themselves in our
children with their growth, and if the grace of God does not subdue their sinful
disposition, we may have to rue the day that they were born. Manasseh's name
signified "forgetfulness." I hope his father did not forget his training, and
leave him to those young courtiers who always hang about kings' palaces, and are
pretty sure to instil into a young prince's mind more vanity than virtue, and
bespeak his favour and patronage for the popular party. There was a
superstitious section in those days, cultivating idolatry and pouring contempt
on the Evangelical brethren, whose cause his father, Hezekiah, had espoused so
earnestly and defended all his days. That new religion, imported from among the
heathen, had its meretricious attractions. Was there not a great deal to please
the eye in its pageant, and much to charm the ear in its worship? The beautiful
artistic work in the statuary of its idols, and the fine display of pomp in all
the ceremonies -- did not these appeal to a cultivated taste? The old-fashioned
puritanical order of worshipping at one temple, where the service was bald, and
where there was scarcely anything to be seen except by the priests themselves,
was becoming effete. Would it not be better to go with the times, take up with
Baalim and Ashtaroth, do homage to the sensuous proclivities of the common
people, and make friendly alliances with nations holding other creeds? I should
not wonder but they talked to the young man in that fashion, and he -- oblivious
of what God bad done for his sire and forgetful that in the long history of the
house of Judah the people had always been smitten when they turned aside to
idols and that they only prospered when they clave to the living God fell into
the snare, and sinned with a high hand. I shall introduce him to you first as a
loathsome monster of guilt; then, secondly, I shall show you how the hand of God
followed him till he became a piteous spectacle of misery; after which --
blessed be God! -- we shall have to mount into a clearer atmosphere, when we
point him out to you as he became afterwards, a miracle of grace; and in fine we
shall have to admire him as a delightful picture of genuine repentance. We must
begin by considering him as: I. A LOATHSOME MONSTER OF GUILT. I cannot imagine
that any one of my hearers can have been so great a sinner as Manasseh. I shall
not attempt to draw a parallel between him and anyone else. Still, I should not
wonder if some of you may be led to draw some such parallel for yourselves. If
you do so, I pray the Lord to give you such a sense of your own guilt as shall
constrain you to seek pardon.Deep was the crime, and daring was the impiety of
Manasseh, in size that he undid all the good work of his pious father. What
Hezekiah had painfully wrought at the web he began to unravel as fast as he
could. That which the father built up for God the son pulled. down; and that
which the father had cast down because it was evil the son at once began to
reconstruct. I must confess I have known sons do the like. Because, they have
hated their father's piety, as it has been a restraint upon their sin, they have
vowed that if it ever came into their power to do as they liked, there should be
a change in the household. As I passed a certain house this week a friend said
to me, "Many a prayer-meeting has been held in that farmhouse. People used to
come for miles round there to meet and pray." "Is that a thing of the past?"
said I; "are no prayer meetings held there now?" "Oh! no," he replied; "the
father died, and his reprobate son came into the property. A prayer meeting,
indeed! No. He defied his mother to attempt such a thing; and after having
stripped her, and stripped the little estate of all there was that was worth the
having, he has gone away, and has not been heard of for many a year. As far as
he could, he tore down everything that belonged to his father that reminded him
of his God." Mr. Whitefield used to tell of a wicked son who said be would not
live in the same house that his father had inhabited, for he said that every
room in the house stunk of his father's religion, and he could not bear it.
There are men who after such manner devise mischief. But ah! young man, you
cannot sin in that atrocious way without incurring extraordinary guilt. It will
be remembered that you sin against the light; it will be recollected at the last
great day that you were prayed for -- that you were instructed in the right way;
nor will you sin so cheap as others -- others, did I say? I means such as, when
they transgress, only follow an evil example, and run in the path which their
parents taught them. Oh! how I grieve over ungodly young men who treat their
father's God with dishonour and despite.Manasseh's sin was aggravated by the
fact that he chose to follow the very worst examples. Though he had in his
father one of the best patterns of purity, that would not do, but he must cast
about him to see whom he could imitate. Upon whom think ye, did he light? Why,
upon Ahab -- the Ahab Of whom God had said that he would cut off every one of
his house, and not leave one remaining; a threat which had been executed, for
the blood of Ahab had been licked by dogs in the field of Naboth, and Jezebel,
his wife, had been devoured of dogs. Yet this young man must needs choose Ahab
to be his pattern, so he set up Baalim, even as Ahab had done of old. The like
folly I have known to be committed by young men in these days. It may be there
are those here who have not found anybody that they could imitate, until at last
they sought out some licentious individual, perhaps, of years gone by, whom they
have elected to be their leader. Why, half the youth of England used, at one
time, to be infatuated with Lord Byron. The glare of his genius blinded them as
to the terrible hue of his character and the atrocity of his conduct, so they
followed headlong in his track, because, forsooth, he was a great man and a
poet. Affecting wit, they bid defiance to pure morals. Alas! for the men whose
sentiments, whose language, and whose actions betray the hardihood and the
daring of vicious characters they are prone to emulate! Though they know better,
they deliberately choose the worst models that they can copy from. What
extravagance man will perpetrate in sin!But this Manasseh sought out for himself
unusual and outlandish sins. Bad as Ahab was, he had not worshipped the host of
heaven. That was an Assyrian worship, and this man must needs import from
Assyria and Babylonia worship that was quite new. He set up the image Ashra,
which you may, perhaps, have seen on the slabs that have been brought from
Nineveh: a tree bearing souls, intended to represent all the host of heaven. He
carved this in the house of God, and set it up for worship. We read in the
prophets that the people used to stand in front of the temple and bow before the
rising sun, worshipping the hosts of heaven. He was not satisfied with common
sin. We have known sinners of this class; they are not content merely to sin as
others do; they are ambitious to invent some fresh sin. Like Tiberius, who
offered a prize if somebody would find him out a new pleasure, they want to
discover a new species of impiety, which shall draw attention to themselves.
They must be singular in whatever they attempt; even if it comes to being
singularly wicked. Such was Manasseh. He could not be satisfied to run in the
race with others, and mingle with the ill-fashion of his times; swiftly as they
would fly, he must distance them all. Beyond this, he insulted God to his face.
Here, perhaps, his sin culminates. It was not enough to build idol temples for
idol worship, but he must needs set up the idols and their altars in the Temple
of Jehovah. Such arrogance, as we think of it, makes our blood chill. And ah!
one trembles to tell it, not a few men have thus invoked upon their bodies and
their souls the curse of the Almighty. So desperately have they been set on
transgression, that they have lifted their hand and defied their Maker. Had he
not been God -- the God of all patience -- he would have resented their
defiance, and have suddenly smitten them down to hell; but being God, and not
man, he has borne with them. He is too great to be stirred by their insults. He
has put it by, and let it lie still, winking alike at their ignorance and their
assumption. for a while, until their iniquity shall be full; and then, in his
justice, will he visit it upon their head. There are not a few in our great city
who continually do all that they can to provoke God, and to show how little they
reverence him how utterly they ignore his claims on their homage. They will go
out of their way to introduce blasphemies into their common conversation, and to
express their disgust and contempt for everything chaste and comely, sacred and
godly. Such was Manasseh. He set up the altars of the false gods in the house of
the living God.Is not his character black enough? Nay, we have not laid on the
thickest touches yet. We are told he made his children to pass through the fire;
that is to say, he passed them between the red-hot arms of Moloch, that they
might belong for ever as long as they lived, to that fiendish deity. If we do
not aver that men do this now-a-days, they fall little short of the same cruelty
and crime. Many a man teaches his child to drink arduous spirits; trains him to
habits which he knows will lead him to drunkenness; does his utmost to pass the
child through the red-hot arms of the spirit-fiend, Else Moloch of the present
time. Many a man has taught his child to blaspheme. If he has not deliberately
purposed it, he has actually effected it, fully conscious that he was so doing.
What was his example but a deliberate lesson? Ay; there are people who seem to
take delight in the sins of their children, Laughing at the iniquities they have
instructed their own sons to perpetrate. Do I address a father who, for many
years, has never attended a place of worship on the Sabbath -- who has often
gone home reeling drunk, and, though somewhat reformed himself, sees his own son
plunging into every vice that he was himself once habituated to? Let me ask you,
Do you wonder at it? Do you wonder at it? You have passed your children through
the flames; what marvel that they were singed, and that the smell of fire is
upon them? Oh! it is a crying sin that men will not only go to hell themselves,
but they must needs drag their children with them. Many a man has not been
satisfied to be ruined but he must ruin same young woman who, perhaps, once had
religious convictions. He becomes her husband, and forbids her to attend the
house of God. As for his children, they may, perhaps, be sent to the Sunday
School to get them out of the way in the afternoon, yet any goad they might
learn there is Soon dissipated by the scenes and sounds they witness and hear
under the roof of their home. Why, multitudes in this city -- we know it, and
they must know it themselves -- are ruining their children, deliberately
compassing their perdition. Is this a small sin, an insignificant mistake in
their training? I trow not.Moreover, Manasseh proceeded further, for he made a
league with devils. There were, in his day, certain persons who professed to
talk with departed spirits, supposing that the devil had the means of
communicating with them about things to come. Now, whether this fellowship with
familiar spirits is a delusion and a lie, as I suspect it is, or whether there
may be a mystery of Satan involved in it, I do not know; but certain it was that
Manasseh tried to get as near the devil as he could. If he could get him to be
his friend he was well content to make a covenant with hell, so that it might
answer his purposes. Let him have good luck; little did he care for God. He
would consult a wizard. Superstition led him to that, but the good Word of God
he utterly despised. And there are same that have done this -- some here,
perhaps. I will not suppose they have lent themselves to those silly
superstitions, or resorted lo those deceitful or deceived mediums who perform in
the dark. I should think, in these modern times of popular education, anyone is
fit to be confined in a lunatic asylum who is beguiled by that snare.
Intelligence should protect you from imposture. But there be those who, if the
devil would help them, would be glad enough to shake hands with him, and say,
"Hail, fellow; well met!" If they do not entertain the devil, it is no fault of
theirs. They have set the table for him, and furnished the house, and made
themselves quite ready for any evil spirit that chooses to come to them. Oh!
what iniquity this is! They will not have God; they will have Satan. They cast
off the great Father in heaven, but the archenemy of souls -- with him they make
a covenant, and contract a league. Could sin go much farther shall this? It
could, and it did; for this man led the whole nation astray. Being a king, he
had great power, and he used his authority and exerted his influence to induce
his subjects to follow his pernicious course. I often wonder what will be the
horror of a man that has lived in gross sin when, in the next world, he meets
those that he betrayed and seduced into iniquity, when he begins to see, in the
murky gloom of that intolerable pit, a pair of eyes which somehow or other seem
to hold him fixed and fast. He recognises them; he has seen them somewhere
before, and those eyes flash fire into the soul as though they would utterly
consume him, and a voice says, "A thousand curses on thee! Thou art he that led
me first into sin-enticed me from a virtuous home, and from godly associations,
to become thy partner in iniquity. A blast be on thee evermore!" What company
they have to keep in that place of torment! How they will gnash their teeth at
one another in dreadful rage, each one charging the other with being his
destroyer! Oh! there is remorse enough in store for a man who ruins himself, but
who can tell the pangs that shall scourge his soul who betrays his
fellow-creatures, and precipitates them into everlasting ruin? Verily, dear
friends, we stand aghast at the picture of such a man as Manasseh, he set no
bounds to his sin. He sinned with both hands greedily, and when the messengers
came from God to tell him of it, he was angry with them. Tradition says that he
sawed the prophet Isaiah in halves for daring to reprove him. But it is not from
tradition, but from revelation, we learn that he made Jerusalem to swim with
blood from one end to the other, putting to death all those that would not go in
his ways and follow his devices. Persecution of the saints of God is a scarlet
sin, that calls aloud to heaven for vengeance. Manasseh was guilty of this,
among other crimes. I am sick at heart, and my tongue is weary of the story. Let
me turn to another branch of the narrative. This terrible monster of iniquity
presently became: -- II. A SINGULAR SPECTACLE OF MISERY.A few words will suffice
to describe it. The Assyrian king sent his captain, one Tartan, who besieged the
city till it was devastated, and the king fled. It would appear that he hid
himself in a thorn brake, and was dragged out from it, and fettered and manacled
with heavy irons. There remains a representation at the present time of some
Jewish king -- we cannot be sure it was Manasseh -- who was dragged before the
King of Babylon. At any rate, it represents what was done to Manasseh, whether
the like treatment befell any other Jewish king or not. He has two rings -- a
ring on each ankle, and a heavy bolt between them, and his hands are fastened in
the same manner. He is brought before the king at Babylon. There he seems to
have been cast into prison, and kept in confinement. The cruelties of the
Assyrian monarchs are attested by the memorials upon their own palace walls;
therefore, I can fully credit the story told; by Jerome, that this Manasseh was
himself put into a brazen vessel, and subjected to the most intense heat, the
Assyrian king abusing him for having passed his own child through the fire in
the same manner. That he was kept for many a long month in a dark and dreary
dungeon, with only sufficient bread and vinegar given him to sustain his life,
appears certain. He must have been wretched to the last degree: his crown gone,
his kingdom devastated, his subjects put to unheard -- of miseries, We are told
that the judgment which God executed upon the land was such that it made the
both ears of him that heard of it to tingle. The king must, therefore, have
experienced some indescribable afflictions from the hands of the tyrant of
Assyria. Ah! sinner, though thou harden thyself in thy transgressions, thou wilt
not go unpunished. A bitter end awaits thee. Reckless as thou art, young man,
thy father's God will not always be mocked. You have persecuted your wife and
your friend, but their unhappiness will return ere long to your own bosom. There
will come an end to your arrogance, and a beginning to your recompenses. Oh! I
wish your iniquity would come to an end soon, and that it might end with your
conversion. If it does not come to that end, your outlook is gloomy indeed, for
your total destruction will complete the course you are running.Perhaps I am
addressing somebody who has been living in heartless sin until he has become
entangled in helpless misery. In this crowd you seem as if you were pointed out,
for your heart is ready to break with anguish. Your property is lost, your
health is broken up, your character is blasted; you are a mere wreck, a waif, a
stray upon the dark sea. There is none to have compassion upon you. You are a
castaway. Even your old companions have forsaken you. The devil himself seems to
have cast you adrift. You are abandoned, and you might cry out and sound your
own death knell. "Lost! lost! lost!" Well, now, I have a message from God to
you. I am come to speak to you, in the name of the Lord, about this man
Manasseh, in the hope that it may be also concerning yourself true -- that after
having been a prodigy of sin, and a spectacle of misery, you may now become as,
in the third place, Manasseh became: -- III. A MONUMENT OF GRACE.Oh! I do not
wonder at Manasseh's sin one half so much as I wonder at God's mercy. There was
the man in the prison. He had never thought of his God except to despise his
prerogative, and offend against his laws, till he was immured in that dungeon.
Then his pride began to break; his haughty spirit had to yield at last. "Who is
Jehovah, that I should serve him?" he had often said. But now he is in Jehovah's
hand. Lying there half-starved in the prison, a crushed man, he begins to cry,
"Jehovah, what a fool I have been! I have stood out against thee until at length
thy sovereign power has arrested me. and thy infinite justice has begun to
avenge my crimes. What shall I do? Where shall I hide from thy wrath? How can I
escape? Is it possible to obtain thy pardon?" He began to humble himself; God's
Spirit came and humbled him more and more; he saw how foolish he had been, how
wicked his character, how cruel his conduct, how abominable. Thus he spent his
days and nights, in weeping and in lamentation. It was not the prison he cared
so much about. His soul had gone into iron bondage. Then it suddenly flashed
across his mind that perhaps God might have mercy on him, so he began to pray.
Oh! what a trembling prayer that first prayer was. Methinks Satan said to him,
"It is no use your praying, Manasseh. Why, you have defied the living God to his
face. He will tell you to go to the idol gods you have served, repair to the
images you have set up, and bow before the hosts of heaven you have been wont to
worship, and see what they can for you." Nay; but in this awful despair he felt
he must pray; and surely the first prayer he breathed must have been, "God be
merciful to me a sinner." And in his deep abasement, he continued still to pray
and plead with God. And that dear Father of ours who is in heaven heard him. If
ever you can bring him a praying heart, he will bring you a forgiving message.
As soon as he saw his poor child broken down, and confessing his wrong, he took
pity on him, heard, and answered him, and blotted out his sins like a cloud, and
his transgressions like a thick cloud. I think I see Manasseh, with his morsel
to eat, never enough to stay his hunger, and his little drops of vinegar, saying
to himself, "Ah! I don't deserve this!" He would thank God even for that
starving allowance in the depths of his cell, feeling that it was mercy that let
him live. "Why should a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his
sins?" And so it came to pass that he was delivered. The King of Assyria, for
State reasons which I need not mention, determined to put this king on his
throne again. He thought that he had broken him down, and humbled him enough;
that he would make a good viceroy and a faithful lieutenant, and that he would
be afraid to rebel again, so one bright day he opened wide Manasseh's dungeon,
and told him he was going to send him back to Jerusalem. And when he told him
that, then Manasseh knew that Jehovah, he was God. This conclusion was forced
upon him by the mercy he obtained. "Who," he would say, "but the Most High God
could have brought me out of this horrible pit, have released me from the power
of this tyrant king, or moved his heart to relent, and have compassion on me?"
As he rode back to Jerusalem, how his heart would be breaking with gratitude! I
think I see him when he first got within sight of the walls of that temple which
he had so recklessly profaned. Surely he threw himself upon his face, and wept
sore, and then arose and blessed the name of the Lord tl at had forgiven all his
trespasses. And when he entered Jerusalem, and the people gathered round him,
what must the greetings have been? Where are those courtiers that had been his
companions, that led him into sin? Do they come whining round him? What a rebuff
they will get! How will he exclaim, "Get you gone. I am another man. I do not
want your company or your counsel." Are there any of those poor people standing
in the background -- the people that used to meet to pray and worship Jehovah,
faithful among the faithless found -- such as had been wont to hide away their
Bibles because they were hunted and harried from one retreat to another -- a
small remnant, that had escaped the fangs of the persecutors -- did they came
forward? How he could look at them, and say, "Ah! you servants of Jehovah, you
are my brethren. Give me your hands; for I, too, have found from heaven, and I
am, like you, a child of God." I warrant you there was singing in Jerusalem that
night amongst the feeble band of the steadfast believers; and there must have
been music in heaven too, for the fiery angels must have rejoiced in a
conversion that seemed so unlikely, so incredible."What, Manasseh saved?
Manasseh -- that bloodhound -- is he transformed, by the renewing of his mind,
into a lamb of God's flock? What he, the red-handed persecutor -- has he become
a professor of the faith he once destroyed?" Ah! yes. Well might Bishop Hall
say, "Who can complain that the way of heaven is blocked against him, when he
sees such a sinner enter? Say the worst against thyself, O clamorous soul! Here
is one that murdered men, defied God, and worshipped devils, yet he finds the
way to repentance. If thou be vile as he, know that it is not thy sin, but thy
impenitence, that bars heaven against thee. Who can now despair of thy mercy, O
God, that sees the tears of a Manasseh accepted?" I remember an old lady who
would not travel by railway because she thought that some of the bridges were in
bad repair, especially the Saltash bridge, near her own house. Over that bridge
she could not be persuaded to pass, for fear her weight should break it down,
although hundreds of tons weight were carried over it every day. At such folly
everybody can smile. But when I hear any man say, "I have committed so much sin,
that God cannot pardon it," I think his folly is far greater. Look at this huge
train that went over that bridge. Behold Manasseh laden with ponderous crimes!
Mark what a train of sin there was behind him! Then look at the bridge, and see
whether it starts by reason of the loaded teem of wills which is rolling over
it. Ah! no, it bears up, and so would it bear the weight if all the, Sins that
men have done should roll across its arches. Christ is "able to save to the
uttermost them that come unto God by him." I do not know where to cast my eyes
for the person to whom this message is directed. That he is somewhere in this
assembly I entertain no doubt. So I speak to some sister who, in an unguarded
hour, left the path of virtue, and since then has pursued a course of shame? I
pray you accept the message. I deliver it to you. The greatest sin, the utmost
guilt, the most incredible iniquity, the most abominable transgressions, can be
forgiven, and shall be blotted out. The Redeemer lives; the sacrifice has been
offered; the covenant is sealed. Turn now to the Lord with purpose of heart.
Confess the sins. Abjure thyself. Trust in the infinite mercy of God, through
Jesus Christ, his Son. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man
his thoughts, and let him turn unto the Lord, for he will have mercy upon him,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." Our closing reflection is that
Manasseh became: -- IV. A PICTURE OF TRUE REPENTANCE.At once he ceased to do
evil. He went straightway to the temple and pulled down the idols. How I would
like to have been with him, and have had a hand in demolishing them. Down went
the images; then over went the altars; every stone was dragged right out of the
city, and flung away. God grant that every image in England may yet be pulled
down, battered to pieces, and the small dust thereof flung into the common
sewers. May that which is an utter abomination before heaven stir a righteous
indignation on earth. Oh! that our land may be so godly that no respect for fine
arts may suffer her to tolerate foul impieties! Manasseh made haste to undo the
mischief he had done. This is what every converted man tries to do. All the evil
he has ever caused he tries to stay; he takes vengeance on his former devices;
against them he lifts both his hands, raises his voice, and exerts his
influence. Nor did this suffice; Manasseh began forthwith to do good. Right
speedily he began to repair the altar of the Lord, and to restore the services
of God and the ordinances of the Temple to their original purity, according to
the divine statutes. So when a man is truly converted, he will be anxious to
join himself to the Lord's people, and support the institutions of his house.
Nor did Manasseh smother his gratitude, but he presented thank-offerings to God.
He was not unmindful of the devout acknowledgments that were due for the great
mercy he had received. Like that other great sinner, whose gratitude is recorded
in the gospel -- the woman who brought an alabaster box of ointment, very
precious, and brake it -- like her, methinks, he loved much because he had had
much forgiven.And, then, being established in his kingdom, he proceeded to use
his high influence for holy purposes. He ruled his subjects in the fear of the
Lord; and made the law of his God to be the law of the land, renouncing all
strange gods, and adhering rigidly to the book by inspiration given. Oh! that
God would incline the heart of some penitent sinner here at once to bring forth
this fruit of conversion! What a change there would be in his house! What a
difference his family would see! What an altered man he would appear in his
daily avocation, whether he be employer or employed! He would be seeking the
conversion of those whom he formerly led astray. Those he once scoffed at, and
called by evil names, would become his choicest companions. "Can God do this?",
says one. Oh! my dear hearers, the God that can forgive great sin can also
change hard hearts. Cry to him. If you are unsaved, may his Spirit lead you to
seek salvation now. Stay not for to-morrow's sun. If you are saved yourself, may
that blessed Spirit lead you to pray for others, and seek their present and
eternal welfare. Watch unto prayer. Let your own faith in God stimulate you to
believe that all things are possible. Never give them up, never give them up.
Are you a mother -- you do not know how prevalent your intercessions may prove.
I wonder whether poor Hephzi-bah was alive when Manasseh was converted? She had
grieved over him, doubtless, in his young days. Well, if she did not live to see
the fruit of her prayers, yet her prayers lived, and her tears were repaid with
rich interest. There is many a mother's son whose heart will be turned to God
long after his mother's bones have been laid in the churchyard. The vision is
for an appointed time; though it tarry, wait for it. Thy son will yet be brought
to glory through thy prayers. Pray on, brethren and sisters, pray on for those
whose sins and sorrows lay heavily on your heart. Pray on, and God will hear
you. O poor sinners, the mercy of God is the antidote for man's despair. Believe
in his mercy. Look for his mercy. Cast yourselves upon his mercy, and you shall
find his mercy unto everlasting life. God grant it for Christ's sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 14: WHAT SELF DESERVES
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A Sermon (No.3506) Published on Thursday, April 6th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [14]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
18th December, 1870. "Ye shall loathe yourselves in your own sight for your
iniquities, and for your abominations." -- Ezekiel 36:31. IT HAS been the
supposition of those who know not by experience that if a man be persuaded that
he is pardoned, and that he is a child of God, he will necessarily become proud
of the distinction which God has conferred upon him. Especially if he be a
believer in predestination, when he finds that he is one of God's chosen, it is
supposed that the necessary consequence will be that he will be exceedingly
puffed up, and think very highly of himself. This however, is but theory; the
fact lies quite another way; for if a, man be truly subjected to the work of
grace in the heart, and if he be then brought to trust in Jesus, and to see his
sin put away by the great sacrifice, instead of being lifted up, he will be
exceedingly cast down in his own sight, and as he goes on to perceive the
singular mercy and peculiar privileges which God's grace has bestowed upon him,
instead of being exalted, he will sink lower and lower in his own esteem, until,
when he shall make a full discovery of divine love, he will become nothing, and
Christ will be all in all. Mercy never makes us proud. As mercy is given to the
humble, it has a humbling effect. Wherever it comes, it makes a man lie low
before the throne of the heavenly grace, and leads him to ascribe all honour and
glory to the God from whom the mercy comes. It appears from our text that when
Israel shall be forgiven her long years of departure from God, one of the
effects of the mercy will be that she will loathe herself, and that same effect
has already been produced in some of us, to whom God's abounding mercy has come.
In fact, in every man here who has tasted that the Lord is gracious, there has
been one uniform experience upon this matter -- we have been led to loathe
ourselves in our own sight for all the sin we have done before the Lord our God.
I shall try to go into this matter, trusting to be rightly guided to say fitting
and useful words at this time. First, my brethren, what is it that we have come
to loathe in ourselves?; secondly, why do we loathe it?; and thirdly, what is
the necessary result in us, or should be, of this self-loathing? First, then: --
I. WHAT IS IT THAT THE PARDONED SINNER LOATHES?You will perceive that he is a
pardoned sinner. The verse is inserted here in a position where it plainly
belongs to those whom God has renewed in heart, whose sins are forgiven, who are
fully justified and accepted. It is consistent with the full enjoyment of
salvation to loathe yourself. This is the strange paradox of the Christian
faith. He who justifies himself is condemned, he who condemns himself is
justified. He who magnifies himself, God breaks down and casts in pieces; he who
throws, himself prostrate before the throne of God's justice, he it is that God
lifteth up in due time. What is it, then, that we loathe in ourselves to-day?Our
reply is, first of all, we loathe every act of our past sin. Look back, ye that
have been brought to Jesus; look back upon the past. Your lives have differed.
Some here have, by God's mercy, been kept from gross outward sin before their
conversion; others have run wantonly into it to great excess of riot. Whichever
may have been our pathway before conversion, we do now unfeignedly loathe all
the sin of it, whether it were the open sin or the sin of the heart. Especially
do we loathe to -- night those sins which we excused at the time (which we did
excuse afterwards). because we said, "Others did so," because we could not see
we did any hurt to our fellow-men thereby. We loathe them because, if they did
not relate to man, but only to God, it was the more vicious of us that we should
rebel altogether against him. "Against thee thee only, have I sinned," is a part
of the bitterness of our confession to-night. There were some sins that were
sweet to us at the time: we rolled them under our tongue, poisonous though they
were. and we called them sweet morsels. We would revolt against them to-night
with abhorrence. Begone, ye damnable sins! By your very sweetness to me, I
detect you. Fool that I must have been that such a thing as thou, could have
been sweet to me. What eyes must I have had to have seen any beauty in thee! How
estranged from God to love the things so foul and vile! We would recall to-night
those greater sins of our life, sins perhaps which entangled others. sins which
we perpetrated in the face of knowledge, after many warnings, desperate.
atrocious sins. Oh! what mercy that we were not cut down while we were living in
them! We turn them over and remember them, not, I trust, as some do, I am
afraid, when they speak of their past lives, as if they were talking about their
battles and they were old soldiers -- never mention your sins without tears. Do
not write much about them, if at all; it is best to do with them as Noah's sons
did with their father's nakedness, go back and cast a mantle over all. God has
forgiven them. Remember them only that you may repent, and that you may bless
his name, but never mention them without loathing them -- utterly loathing them
as if they were disgusting to your spirit, and you could not speak of them
without the blush mantling on your cheek.My brethren, in addition to loathing
every act of sin, I think I can hope, if our acts are right, we do, through
God's mercy, loathe all the sins of omission. I will put them in this form. The
time we wasted before our conversion. Perhaps some of you were not brought to
Christ until you were thirty, or forty, or fifty years of age. It is a very,
very happy circumstance to be saved while yet you are younger -- a case for
eternal thankfulness but let us think of the time we wasted, precious time, in
which we might have served God, time in which we might have been learning more
of him, studying his Word, and making ourselves more fit to he used by him in
after years. How much of our time ran to waste! I would especially loathe wasted
Sabbaths. Some of us wasted them at home in idleness; some wasted them abroad in
company. others of us wasted them in God's house. I would loathe my elf for
having wasted Sabbaths, under sermons, hearing as though I heard them not --
joining in devotions in the posture, and not in the heart. And what is this but
to break the Sabbath under the very garb of keeping it -- thinking other
thoughts and caring for other things while eternal matters were being proclaimed
in my hearing. Oh! let us loathe ourselves to think that even twenty years
should have gone to waste, much more thirty, or forty, or fifty years even sixty
-- should have been suffered to glide by, bearing nothing upon their bosom but a
freight of sin, carrying nothing to the throne of God that we would wish to have
remembered there. Those of us who have been converted to God would this night
loathe every refusal which we gave to Christ. in those days of our unregeneracy.
Dost thou remember, my brother in Christ, those early knockings at the door of
thy heart by a gentle mother's word, or was it a father, or was it perhaps a
Sunday School teacher, or perhaps some dear one now in glory? Oh! that ever I
should have refused the Saviour, had he but presented himself to me but once!
Infatuation not to be excused, to close the heart against even one of these! But
many times! Some of us were very favourably circumstanced. Our mother's tears
fell thick and fast for us when we were children. She would pray with us; when
we read the Scriptures with her' she talked to us. Her words were very faithful,
very tender, and her child could not help feeling them, but waywardly he pushed
aside the tears, and still forgot his mother's God. Then you know with many of
us the entreaties of our youth melted into the instructions of cur riper years.
Do you not remember many sermons under which Christ has knocked with his pierced
hand at the door of your heart? You that sit here from time to time, I know the
Lord does not leave you without some strivings of heart; at least, I hope he
does not I do pray the Master to help me to put the word so that it may disturb
you, and not let you make a nest in your sins, but as yet you have said "No" to
Christ, and given him the go-by, even until now. As for such as are now saved, I
am sure they have among their most bitter pangs of regret this, that they should
ever at any time, and that they should so often and so many times have said to
the Saviour, "Depart from me; I will not know thee, neither do I desire thy
salvation." And if, my brethren, in addition to having refused Christ, we have
come into actual collision with him by setting up our own Pharisaic estimate of
ourselves, we ought to loathe ourselves to-night. We did say in our heart, "I am
good enough." The filthy rags of our own righteousness have had the impertinence
to compare with the fair white linen of Christ's righteousness. We thought we
could put away our own sins by some method of our own, and that cross, which s
heaven's wonder and hell's terror, are despised so as to think we could do
without it. We might well loathe ourselves for this, if we had never committed
any other transgression than this. Oh! foul pride, oh! base and loathsome pride
that can make a sinner think he can do without a Saviour, and so presumptuously
imagine that Christ was more than was needful, and the cross was a work of
supererogation. Did any of us go further than this? And did we ever commit
persecuting acts against Christ and his people? Perhaps some of you did, and now
you are his servants. You laughed at that Christian woman; why, you would go
down upon your knees now if you could find her, to beg a thousand pardons, now
you know her to be a child of God. You did then act very harshly and severely
towards one who was a true lover of the Saviour. Perhaps you spoke opprobrious
words, or did worse. As Cranmer put his hand into the fire and said, "Oh!
unworthy right hand," because it had written a recantation of Christ and his
truth years before. I am sure you would say it now if you have written one
unkind word, or said one ungenerous word concerning a believer in Christ. And
oh! if you have ever openly blasphemed, I know you loathe yourself, standing
here to-night, to think those lips once cursed God, and, joining in the
prayer-meeting with your prayers, to think that those lips once imprecated
curses upon your fellow-men. I know your feeling must be one of very deep
prostration of spirit. And even if we have not gone so far, we feel, as you do,
that we loathe ourselves for our iniquities and for our abominations. Thus might
I continue to speak to your hearts, but I trust, my brethren, it will be
needless to do so, for you do already loathe yourselves for your sins.Let me
close this first part of the subject by just remarking that there are some
persons here who, if the Lord should ever convert them, would ever have a strong
loathing for themselves. I mean, first, hypocrites. There are such in this
church, there never was a church without them. They come to the communion table,
and yet have no part nor lot in the matter. We know of some that have been here
Sabbath after Sabbath, and they are habitual drunkards, undiscovered by us --
who intrude themselves into the assemblies of the faithful, and yet at the same
time make much mock and sport of our holy religion. Oh! if you are ever saved,
what heart-breakings you will have! How you will hate yourselves! I shall not
say one hard word about you, but I do pray God's grace will make you feel a
great many hard things about yourself, and while you look up into the dear face
of the crucified, and find pardon there, may you afterwards cover your face with
shame, and weep to think of the mercy you have found. So, too, those who once
professed Christ and have gone away altogether -- they may be here. I should not
wonder but what in this throne there are some that used to be religious people
-- put on an appearance and did run well. Now for years they have neglected
prayer. That woman, once a church member, married an ungodly husband, and many a
bitter day she has had since then, and to-night she has strayed in here. Ah!
woman, may God bring thee back and thou wilt loathe thyself for having given up
Christ for the love of a poor dying man. And others that have gone into the
world for Sunday trading, or for some sort of gain, given up Christ, like Judas,
who betrayed him for thirty pieces of silver. Oh! if you are ever saved, you
will hate yourselves. I am sure this will be your cry within yourself, "Saviour,
thou hast forgiven me, but I shall never forgive myself; thou hast blotted out
my sins like a cloud, but I shall always remember them, and lay very low at thy
feet all my praises while I think of what thou hast done for me." Yes, and you
there have a dear one that is a persecutor, a blasphemer, an opposer of the
gospel, an infidel; may you become one of those who shall abundantly loathe
yourself when you shall taste of the rich, free mercy of God. Thus I have set
forth what it is that a man loathes; but let me remark it is not merely his
actions he loathes, but himself, to think that he could do such things. He
loathes the fountain to think that it could yield such a stream; he loathes his
own evil nature, the deep corruption and depravity of his heart, to think he
should be so ungrateful and treat the Lord of mercy in so ungenerous a way. But
now we must turn to the second part of the subject.II. HOW IS IT, AND WHY, THAT
PARDONED SOULS DO LOATHE THEMSELVES?Reply first. Their nature is changed. God,
in conversion, makes us new men. We are not altered, improved, or mended, but a
new life is given us; we become new creations in Christ Jesus. It is the work of
the Holy Spirit to make us to be born again, and as that which is born of the
flesh is flesh, so that which is born of the Spirit is spirit, and it hates the
old corrupt nature, loathes it, and fights against it to the death. And further,
the moving cause for loathing ourselves is the receipt of divine mercy. "Oh!"
saith the soul when it finds itself forgiven, "did I rebel against such a God as
this! What! has he struck out all my sins from the roll, cast them all behind
his back, and does he declare that he loves me still? Then wretch that I am that
I should have revolted and rebelled against such a God as this." It is just as
John Bunyan puts it. There is a city besieged, and they determine that they will
fight it out to the last. They will make every street to run with blood but what
they will hold it out against the king who claims the city for himself; but when
his troops march up and set their ranks around the city, and it is all
surrounded, the trumpet sounds for a parley, and the messenger comes forward
with the white flag, and they find to their surprise that the conditions offered
are so honourable, so generous, so much to their own advantage, that the king
appears not to be their enemy at all, but, in fact, to be their best friend. He
will enlarge their liberties far above what they were. He will beautify their
city -- it was mean before. He will come and dwell in it; he will make it the
metropolis of the country; he will give it markets; he will give it all it
wanted. "Why," saith John Bunyan, "whereas before they were going to fortify the
walls and die to a man, they fling open the gates, and they are ready to tumble
over the walls to him, they are so glad to find that he treats them so
generously." And it is, even so with us when we find that he blots out our sin,
that he is all love and all compassion, we yield to him at once, and then shame
comes, to think that it should ever have been needful for us to yield, that we
should ever have taken up arms against him at all. It is a beautiful incident in
English history when one of our kings was carrying on war against his rebellious
son. and they met in battle, and the son was, just about to kill the father,
when the father's visor was lifted up and he saw that it was his father whom he
was about to kill. So the sinner, fighting against his God, thinks he is his
enemy, but on a sudden he beholds it is his own Father that he has been fighting
against, and he drops the weapon of his rebellion, feeling ashamed that he
should have rebelled against such mercy and such favour. That is why we are
ashamed, and I do pray that some here may be ashamed in the same way, for I
think I hear Jehovah bewailing himself to-night. "Hear, O heavens, and give ear,
O earth; I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled
against me. The ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib, but Israel
doth not know, my people doth not consider." Your God is good, be ready to
repent and be forgiven; rebel no more. Now after the receipt of divine mercy has
brought in this feeling, the feeling is continued and promoted by everything
that happens to us. For instance, every doctrine a Christian man learns after he
is converted makes him loathe himself. Suppose he learns the doctrine of
election. "What!" saith he, "was I chosen of God from before the foundation of
the world, and did go after filthiness and uncleanness with this body? Was I
dishonest and a liar, and yet loved of God before the stars began to shine?"
That doctrine makes a man loathe himself. Then he learns the doctrine of
redemption, and he reads, "These are they that are redeemed from among men" -- a
special and particular redemption. Did Jesus then die for me, as he did not die
for all? Had he a special eye to me in that sacrifice of himself upon the cross?
Oh! then I will smite my breast to think there ever should have been such a hard
heart towards a Saviour who loved me so. There is no doctrine but what, when the
heart learns it, the spirit bows down with deep shame to think it ever should
have rebelled. So it is with every fresh mercy the Christian enjoys. Surely he
wakes up every morning with a fresh mercy, but especially at peculiar times when
our prayers have been heard, when we have been rescued out of deep distress, we
lift up our eyes to heaven, and an we bless God for all his favours to us we
say, "And can it be that I was once a rebel, in arms against such a God as thee?
My God, my Father, did I ever blaspheme thy name? Did I ever read thy Book as a
common book? Did I ever neglect thy mercy, Saviour? Then shame on me when thou
hast ever been so good, so kind to me." And as the Christian grows in grace and
mounts to more elevated platforms of experience, this self-loathing gets deeper
when the spirit bears witness with him that he is a child of God. When he rises
as a child to feel that he is an heir, and that, being an heir, he claims his
heritage to sit with Christ in the heavenly places, the more he sees of God's
marvellous kindness to him, the more he looks back to his past life and to the
depravity of the heart within, and he says, "Shame on thy head; cover thy face
with confusion; silence me before thee, oh! thou Most High, to think that after
such mercy as this I should have remained so ungrateful to thee." And I suppose
that as long as the Christian lives, and the further he goes in the grace of
God, the deeper he goes in a disestimate of himself; it will ever be so until,
as he gets to the gates of heaven, among all his joys and the growing sense of
divine favour, there will be a still deeper sense of repentance for all the
transgressions of his heart.And now I shall need your attention still a few
moments longer while I dwell upon the third and last point. When a soul is thus
made to loathe itself: -- III. WHAT FOLLOWS?Well, there follows, first of all,
self-distrust. A man who remembers what he has been, and has a due sense of what
his sin was, will never trust himself again. He thought at one time that he
could resist sin; he imagined that it would be possible for him to fight against
iniquity, and by daily perseverance to make something of himself. Now he has
fallen so often, he has proved his own weakness so thoroughly, that all he can
do now is just to look up to God, and ask for strength from on high. He cannot
by any possibility rest in himself; his own weakness is so thoroughly proved. A
man who knows what he used to be is conscious of what his former estate was, and
will by no sort of means rely upon his own strength for a single hour. "Lead us
not into temptation "will be his constant prayer, and "Deliver us from evil"
will follow close upon it. When I see a man going into sinful company, a
Christian professor going on to the verge of sin and saying, "I shall not fall,
I can take care of myself," I feel pretty certain that that man's experience is
a very flimsy one, and that it is altogether a very grave question whether he
ever was pardoned and has tasted of divine grace; for if he had, he would have
known what it was to loathe himself a great deal more, and to distrust himself
more.The next result in a man will be that he will not serve himself any longer.
Before, he could have lived for his own honour, but now he has such a
disestimate of himself that he must have a different object. Spend my life for
my own honour and glory? "No," saith he, "I am not worthy of it. I, who could
blaspheme heaven, or could live so long an enemy to God -- I serve such a
monster as myself! No! By God's grace,, I will serve him who has changed my
nature, forgiven my sin, and made me to be a new creature in Christ Jesus.
Self-loathing is quite sure to make a man have a better object than that of
seeking to honour myself."And then a man who has once loathed himself will never
loathe his fellow-men. He will be free from that pride which is found in many,
which disqualifies them for Christian service, because they do not know the
hearts of sinners, and do not enter into communion with them. I have known some
who fancy there ought to be a great distance between themselves and what they
call common people; who talk of sin as though it were a strange thing, in which
they had no participation, they themselves having been highly elevated above
ordinary folks. Oh! we know of some that would scorn the harlot, and look down
upon a man whose character has been once destroyed, and think he never ought to
be spoken to again. The Christian loathes himself for not having had pity on
others. He knows how readily his feet might have gone in the same way; how
easily, too, he might have fallen. even to the same extent, if circumstances had
been the same with him as with them, and, as far as he can, he seeks to uplift
them. The man who is once as he should be, thrusts his arm to the elbow in every
mire to bring up one of God's precious jewels. He has put off the kid gloves of
self-sufficiency, so he works like a true labourer. He knows what Christ has
done for him -- how Jesus poured out his very heart's blood for his redemption
-- and he feels he cannot do too much, if by any means he can pluck a single
firebrand from the flame. Brethren, it is good to loathe ourselves. for it makes
us have sympathy with others. Yet, once again, this self-loathing in every case
where it comes makes Jesus Christ very precious, and makes sin very hateful.
Whoever bath loathed himself at all sees how Jesus Christ has been a great
Saviour, and he admires and adores him. You know you measure the height of the
Saviour's love by the depth of your own fall. If you don't know anything about
your ruin, you won't be likely to prize much the remedy. A man that has got a
desperate disease, and is dealt with by the physician, if he does not know what
the disease is, is not able to feel the measure of gratitude, even if he is
healed, that another man would, who knew how fatal the disease was in itself. If
I think I am not poor, if I be befriended, I shall not have that gratitude which
a bankrupt would have had if he had nothing left, to whom someone had generously
given a large estate. No! a sense of need helps us to glorify God. Amongst the
saints, and when on earth, the sweetest voices are those that have been made
sweet by repentance. Amongst those that sing in heaven, and sing with the most
sweet and lofty praise to God, are those who bless the grace that lifted them up
from the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, and set their feet on a rock and
established their goings. This blessed shamefacedness, which Christ gives us, is
not to be avoided; may we have it more and more, and it shall be a fit
preparation for the service of God on earth and the enjoyment of his presence in
heaven.And now, dear friends, it will be a very suitable season for every
Christian just to look back and let his shame for many things mantle on his
cheeks. Oh! how little progress have we made in the divine life through all the
years! We call each year a "year of grace," but we might call it a year of
sorrow. "The year of our Lord," we call it! Too often we make it the Year of
ourselves. God save us for not living to him, working more for him, and growing
more like him! Let us close every year with repentance, not because the sin
abides, for, blessed be God, it is all forgiven -- we are saved. Before the sin
was perpetrated, Christ carried it into the sepulchre where he was buried; he,
cast it there; it cannot be laid against us to condemn us, yet do we hate it,
and yet do we loathe ourselves to think we have fallen into it. But would not
this also be an admirable opportunity to show how we hate sin by seeking to
bring others to Christ? Do watch for other souls. As you prize your own, seek
the conversion of others, and God grant that you may bring many to Jesus.And you
that are not saved, oh! suffer not this occasion to pass, let not the days go by
without your seeking for that mercy which God so fully gives through his
only-begotten Son. Then when you receive it you will be ashamed, and you, too,
will magnify the grace that pardoned even you. God bless you, dear friends, very
richly, for Jesus' sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 15: OUR LORD'S SOLEMN ENQUIRY
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A Sermon (No.3507) Published on Thursday, April 13th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [15]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
April 7th, 1872. "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? That is to say, My God, my God,
why hast thou forsaken me?" -- Matthew 27:46. IF any one of us, lovers of the
Lord Jesus Christ had been anywhere near the cross when he uttered those words,
I am sure our hearts would have burst with anguish, and one thing is certain --
we should have heard the tones of that dying cry as long as ever we lived. There
is no doubt that at certain times they would come to us again, ringing shrill
and clear through the thick darkness. We should remember just how they were
uttered, and the emphasis where it was placed, and I have no doubt we should
turn that text over, and over, and over in our minds. But there is one thing, I
think, we should never have done if we had heard it -- therefore, I am not going
to do it -- we should never preach from it. It would have been too painful a
recollection for us ever to have used it as a text. No; we should have said, "It
is enough to hear it." Fully understand it, who can? And to expound it, since
some measure of understanding might be necessary to the exposition -- that
surely were a futile attempt. We should have laid that by; we should have put
those words away as too sacred, too solemn, except for silent reflection and
quiet, reverent adoration. I felt when I read these words again, as I have often
read them, that they seemed to say to me, "You cannot preach from us," and, on
the other hand, felt as Moses did when he put off his shoe from off his foot in
the presence of the burning bush, because the place whereon he stood was holy
ground. Beloved, there is another reason why we should not venture to preach
from this text, namely, that it is probably an expression out of the lowest
depths of our Saviour's sufferings. With him into the seas of grief we can
descend some part of the way; but when he comes where all God's waves and
billows go over him, we cannot go there. We may, indeed, drink of his cup, and
be baptized with his baptism, but never to the full extent; and, therefore,
where our fellowship with Christ cannot conduct us to the full, though it may in
a measure -- we shall not venture; not beyond where our fellowship with him
would lead us aright, lest we blunder by speculation, and "darken counsel by
words without knowledge." Moreover, it comes forcibly upon my mind that though
every word here is emphatic, we should be pretty sure to put the emphasis
somewhere or other too little. I do not suppose we should be likely to put it
anywhere too much. It has been well said that every word in this memorable cry
deserves to have an emphasis laid upon it. If you read it, "My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me? I marvel not that my disciples should, but why hast thou
gone, my Father, God? Why couldst thou leave me?" there is a wondrous meaning
there. Then take it thus, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? I know why
thou hast smitten me; I can understand why thou dost chasten me; but why hast
thou forsaken me? Wilt thou allow me no ray of love from the brightness of thine
eyes -- no sense of thy presence whatsoever?" This was the wormwood and the gall
of all the Saviour's bitter cup. Then God forsook him in his direst need. Or if
you take it thus, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" there comes
another meaning. "Me, thy well beloved, thine eternal well beloved, shine
innocent, thy harmless, thine afflicted Son -- why hast thou forsaken me? "Then,
indeed, it is a marvel of marvels not that God should forsake his saints, or
appear to do so, or that he should forsake sinners utterly, but that he should
forsake his only Son. Then, again, we might with great propriety throw the whole
force of the verse upon the particle of interrogation, "Why." "My God, my God,
why, ah! why hast thou forsaken me? What is thy reason? What thy motive? What
compels thee to this, thou Lord of love? The sun is eclipsed, but why is the Son
of thy love eclipsed? Thou hast taken away the lives of men for sin, but why
takest thou away thy love, which is my life, from me who hath no sin? Why and
wherefore actest thou thus?" Now, as I have said, every word requires more
emphasis than I can throw into it, and some part of the text would be quite sure
to be left and not dealt with as it should be; therefore, we will not think of
preaching upon it, but instead thereof we will sit down and commune with it. You
must know that the words of our text are not only the language of Christ, but
they are the language of David. You who are acquainted with the Psalms know that
the 22nd Psalm begins with just these words, so that David said what Jesus said;
and I gather from this that many a child of God has had to say precisely what
the Lord Jesus, the first-born of the family, uttered upon the cross. Now as
God's children are brought into the same circumstances as Christ, and Christ is
considered the exemplar, my object to-night will be simply this -- not to
expound the words, but to say to believers who come into a similar plight, Do as
Jesus did. If you come into his condition, lift up your hearts to God, that you
may act as he did in that condition. So we shall make the Saviour now not a
study for our learning, but an example for reproduction. The first out of these
points in which, I think, we should imitate him is this: -- I. UNDER DESERTION
OF SOUL, THE LORD JESUS STILL TURNS TO GOD.At that time when he uttered these
words, God had left him to his enemies. No angel appeared to interpose and
destroy the power of Roman or Jew. He seemed utterly given up. The people might
mock at him, and they might put him to what pain they pleased j at the same time
a sense of God's love to him as man was taken from him. The comfortable presence
of God, which had all his life long sustained him, began to withdraw from him in
the garden, and appeared to be quite gone when he was just in the article of
death upon the cross; and meanwhile the waves of God's wrath on account of sin
began to break over his spirit, and he was in the condition of a soul deserted
by God. Now sometimes believers come into the same condition, not to the same
extent, but in a measure. Yesterday they were full of joy, for the love of God
was shed abroad in their hearts, but to-day that sense of love is gone; they
droop; they feel heavy. Now the temptation will be at such times for them to sit
down and look into their own hearts; and if they do, they will grow more
wretched every moment, until they will come well nigh to despair; for there is
no comfort to be found within, when there is no light from above. Our signs and
tokens within are like sundials. We can tell what is o'clock by the sundial when
the sun shines, but if it does not what is the use of the sundial? And so marks
of evidence may help us when God's love is shed abroad in the soul, but when
that is done, marks of evidence stand us in very little stead. Now observe our
Lord. He is deserted of God, but instead of looking in, and saying, "My soul,
why art thou this? Why art thou that? Why art thou cast down? Why dost thou
mourn?" he looks straight away from that dried-up well that is within, to those
eternal waters that never can be stayed, and which are always full of
refreshment. He cries, "My God." He knows which way to look, and I say to every
Christian here, it is a temptation of the devil, when you are desponding, and
when you are not enjoying your religion as you did, to begin peering and
searching about in the dunghill of your own corruptions, and stirring over all
that you are feeling, and all you ought to feel, and all you do not feel, and
all that. Instead of that look from within, look above, look to your God again,
for the light will come there.And you will notice that our Lord did not at this
time look to any of his friends. In the beginning of his sufferings he appeared
to seek oonsolation from his disciples, but he found them sleeping for sorrow;
therefore, on this occasion he did not look to them in any measure. He had lost
the light or God's countenance, but he does not look down in the darkness and
say, "John, dear faithful John, art thou there? Hast thou not a word for him
whose bosom was a pillow for thy head? Mother Mary, art thou there? Canst thou
not say one soft word to thy dying son to let him know there is still a heart
that does not forget him?" No, beloved; our Lord did not look to the creature.
Man as he was, and we must regard him as such in uttering this cry, yet he does
not look to friend or brother, helper or human arm. But though God be angry, as
it were, yet he crieth, "My God." Oh! it is the only cry that befits a
believer's lips. Even if God seems to forsake thee, keep on crying to him. Do
not begin to look in a pet and a jealous humour to creatures, but still look to
thy God. Depend upon it, he will come to thee sooner or later. He cannot fail
thee. He must help thee. Like a child if its mother strike it, still if it be in
pain it cries for its mother; it knows her love; it knows its deep need of her,
and that she alone can supply its need. Oh! beloved, do the same. Is there one
in this house who has lately lost his comforts, and Satan has said, "Don't
pray"? Beloved, pray more than ever you did. If the devil says, "Why, God is
angry; what is the use of praying to him?" he might have said the same to Christ
-- "Why dost thou pray to one who forsaketh thee?" But Christ did pray "My God"
still, though he says, "Why dost thou forsake me?" Perhaps Satan tells you not
to read the Bible again. It has not comforted you of late; the promises have not
come to your soul. Dear brother, read and read more; read double as much as ever
you did. Do not think that, because there is no light coming to you, the wisest
way is to get away from the light. No; stay where the light is. And perhaps he
even says to you, "Don't attend the house of God again; don't go to the
communion table. Why, surely you won't wish to commune with God when he hides
his face from you." I say the words of wisdom, for I speak according to the
example of Christ; come still to your God in private and in public worship, and
come still, dear brother, to the table of fellowship with Jesus, saying, "Though
he slay me, vet will I trust in him, for I have nowhere else to trust; and
though he hide his face from me, vet will I cry after him, and my cry shall not
be "My friends," but "My God"; and my eye shall not look to my soul, my friends,
or my feelings, but I will look to my God. and even to him alone. That is the
first lesson, not an easy one to learn, mark you -- easier to hear than you will
find it to practice. but "the Spirit helpeth our infirmities." The second lesson
is this -- observe that: -- II. THOUGH UNDER A SENSE OF DESERTION, OUR MASTER
DOES NOT RELAX HIS HOLD OF HIS GOD.Observe it, "My God" -- it is one hand he
grips him with; "My God" -- it is the other hand he grasps him with. Both united
in the cry, "My God." He believes that God is still his God. He uses the
possessive particle twice, "My God, my God."Now it is easy to believe that God
is ours when he smiles upon us, and when we have the sweet fellowship of his
love in our hearts; but the point for faith to attend to, is to hold to God when
he gives the hard words, when his providence frowns upon thee, and when even his
Spirit seems to be withdrawn from thee. Oh! let go every thing, but let not go
thy God. If the ship be tossed and ready to sink, and the tempest rages
exceedingly, cast out the ingots, let the gold go, throw out the wheat, as
Paul's companions did. Let even necessaries go, but oh! still hold to thy God;
give not up thy God; say still, notwithstanding all, "In the teeth of all my
feelings, doubts, and suspicions, I hold him yet; he is my God; I will not let
him go."You know that in the text our Lord calls God in the original his "strong
one" -- "Eli, Eli" -- "my strong one, my mighty one." So let the Christian, when
God turns away the brightness of his presence, still believe that all his
strength lies in God, and that, moreover, God's power is on his side. Though it
seemed to crush him, yet faith says, "It is a power that will not crush me. If
he smite me, what will I do? I will lay hold upon his arm, and he will put
strength in me. I will deal with God as Jacob did with the angel. If he wrestle
with me, I will borrow strength from him, and I will wrestle still with him
until I get the blessing from him." Beloved, we must neither let go God, nor let
go our sense of his power to save us. We must hold to our possession of him, and
hold to the belief that he is worth possessing, that he is God allsufficient,
and that he is our God still.Now I would like to put this personally to any
tried child of God here. Are you going to let go your God because you have lost
his smile? Then I ask you, Did you base your faith upon his smile? for if you
did, you mistook the true ground of faith. The ground of a believer's confidence
is not God's smile, but God's promise. It is not his temporary sunshine of his
love, but his deep eternal love itself, as it reveals itself in the covenant and
in the promises. Now the present smile of God may go, but God's promise does not
go; and if you believe upon God's promise, that is just as true when God frowns
as when he smiles. If you are resting upon the covenant, that covenant is as
true in the dark as in the light. It stands as good when your soul is without a
single gleam of oonsolation as when your heart is flooded with sacred bliss. Oh!
Come then to this. The promise is as good as ever. Christ is the same as ever;
his blood is as great a plea as ever; and the oath of God is as immutable as
ever. We must get away from all building upon our apprehensions of God's love.
It is the love itself we must build on -- not on our enjoyment of his presence,
but on his faithfulness and on his truth. Therefore, be not cast down, but still
call him, "My God."Moreover, I may put it to you, if, because God frowns, you
give him up, what else do you mean to do? Why, is not it better to trust in an
angry God than not to trust in God at all? Suppose thou leavest off the walk of
faith, what wilt thou do? The carnal man never knew what faith was, and,
therefore, gets on pretty fairly in his own blind, dead way; but you have been
quickened and made alive, enlightened, and if you give up your faith, what is to
become of you? Oh! hold to him then."For if shine eye oi faith be dim,Still hold
on Jesus, sink or swim;Still at his footstool bow the kneeAnd Israel's God thy
strength shall be."Don't give him up.Moreover, if faith give up her God because
he frowns, what sort of a faith was it? Canst thou not believe in a frowning
God? What, hast thou a friend who did the other day but give thee a rough word,
and thou saidst, "At one time I could die for that man," and because he gives
you one rough word, are you going to give him up? Is this thy kindness to thy
friends Is this thy confidence in thy God? But how Job played the man! Did he
turn against his God when he took away his comforts from him? No; he said, "The
Lord gave, and the Lord bath taken away, and blessed be the name of the Lord."
And do you not know how he put it best of all when he said, "Though he slay me,
yet will I trust in him "? Yes, if thy faith be only a fair-weather faith, if
thou canst only walk with God when he sandals thee in silver, and smooths the
path beneath thy feet, what faith is this? Where didst thou get it from? But the
faith that can foot it with the Lord through Nebuchadnezzar's furnace of fire,
and that can go walking with him through the valley of the shadow of death --
this is the faith to be had and sought after, and God grant it to us, for that
was the faith that was in the heart of Christ when forsaken of God. He yet says,
"My God." We have learnt two lessons. Now we have learnt them -- (we have gone
over them, but have we learnt them?) -- may we practice them, and turn to God in
ill times, and not relinquish our hold. The third lesson is this: -- III.
ALTHOUGH OUR LORD UTTERED THIS DEEP AND BITTER CRY OF PAIN, YET LEARN FROM HIS
SILENCE.He never uttered a single syllable of murmuring, or brought any
accusation against his God. "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" There! look at
those words. Can you see any blots in them? I cannot. They are crystallised
sorrow. but there is no defilement of sin. It was just (I was about to say) what
an angel could have said, if he could have suffered; it is what the Son of God
did say, who was purer than angels, when he was suffering. Listen to Job, and we
must not condemn Job, for we should not have been half so good as he, I daresay;
but he does let his spirit utter itself sometimes in bitterness. He curses the
day of his birth and so on; but the Lord Jesus does not do that. There is not a
syllable about "cursed be the day in which I was born in Bethlehem, and in which
I came amongst such a rebellious race as this" -- nor not a word, not a word.
And even the best of men when in sorrow have at least wished that things were
not just so. David, when he had lost Absalom, wished that he had died, instead
of Absalom. But Christ does not appear to want things altered. He does not say,
"Lord, this is a mistake. Would God I had died by the hands of Herod when he
sought my life, or had perished when they tried to throw me down the hill of
Capernaum." No; nothing of the kind. There is grief, but there is no
complaining; there is sorrow, but there is no rebellion. Now this is the point,
beloved, I want to bring to you. If you should suffer extremely, and it should
ever come to that terrible pinch that even God's love and the enjoyment of it
appears to be gone, put your finger to your lip and keep it there. "I was dumb
with silence; I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it." Believe that he is
a good God still. Know that assuredly he is working for thy good, even now, and
let not a syllable escape thee by way of murmuring, or if it does, repent of it
and recall it. Thou hast a right to speak to God, but not to murmur against him,
and if thou wouldst be like thy Lord, thou wouldst say just this, "Why hast thou
forsaken me?" But thou wilt say no more, and there wilt thou leave him, and if'
there oome no answer to thy question thou wilt be content to be without an
answer.Now again, I say, this is a lesson I can teach, but I do not know if I
can practice it, and I do not know that you can. Only, again, "the Spirit
helpeth our infirmities," and he will enable us when we come to "lama
sabachthani" to come so far, but not to go farther -- to stop there with our
Lord. The fourth lesson which, I think, we should learn is this: -- IV. OUR
LORD, WHEN HE DOES CRY, CRIES WITH THE INQUIRING VOICE OF A LOVING CHILD."My
God, why, ah! why hast thou forsaken me?" He asks a question not in curiosity,
but in love. Loving, sorrowful complaints he brings. "Why, my God? Why? Why?"
Now this is a lesson to us, because we ought to endeavour to find out why it is
that God hides himself from us. No Christian ought to be content to live without
full assurance of faith. No believer ought to be satisfied to live a moment
without knowing to a certainty that Christ is his, and if he does not know it,
and assurance is gone, what ought he to do? Why, he should never be content
until he has gone to God with the question, "Why have I not this assurance? Why
have I not thy presence? Why is it that I cannot live once I did in the light of
thy countenance "And, beloved, the answer to this question in our case will
sometimes be, "I have forsaken thee, my child, because thou hast forsaken me.
Thou hast grown cold of heart by slow degrees; grey hairs have come upon thee,
and thou didst not know; and I have made thee know it to make thee see thy
backsliding, and sorrowfully repent of it." Sometimes the answer will be, "My
child, I have forsaken thee because thou hast set up an idol in thy heart. Thou
lovest thy child too much, thy gold too much, thy trade too much; and I cannot
come into thy soul unless I am thy Lord, thy love, thy bridegroom, and thy all."
Oh! we shall be glad to know these answers, because the moment we know them our
heart will say: -- "The dearest idol I heve known,Whate'er that idol be,Help me
to tear it from its throne,And worship only thee."Sometimes the Lord's answer
will be, "My child, I have gone from thee for a little to try thee, to see if
thou lovest me." A true lover will love on under frowns. It is only the
superficial professor that wants sweetmeats every day, and only loves his God
for what he gets out of him; but the genuine believer loves him when he smites
him, when he bruises him with the bruises of a cruel one. Why, then we will say,
"O God, if this is why thou dost forsake us, we will love thee still, and prove
to thee that thy grace has made our souls to hunger and thirst for thee." Depend
upon it, the best way to get away from trouble, or to get great help under it,
is to run close in to God. In one of Quarles's poems he has the picture of a man
striking another with a great nail. Now the further off the other is, the
heavier it strikes him. So the man whom God is smiting runs close in, and he
cannot be hurt at all. O my God, my God, when away from thee affliction stuns
me, but I will close with thee, and then even my affliction I will take to be a
cause of glory, and glory in tribulations also, so that thy blast shall not
sorely wound my spirit. Well, I leave this point with the very same remark I
made before. To cry to God with the enquiry of a child is the fourth lesson of
the text. Oh! learn it well. Do practice it when You are in trouble much. If you
are in such a condition at this time, practice it now, and in the pew say, "Show
me wherefore thou contendest with me. Search me and try me, and see if there be
any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." Now the fifth
observation is one to be treasured up: -- V. THAT OUR LORD, THOUGH HE WAS
FORSAKEN OF GOD, STILL PURSUED HIS FATHER'S WORK -- the work he came to do. "My
God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But, mark you, he does not leave the cross; he
does not unloose the nails as he might have done with a will; he did not leap
down amidst the assembled mockers, and scorn them in return, and chase them far
away. but he kept on bleeding, suffering, even until he could say, "It is
finished," and he did not give up the ghost till it was finished. Now, beloved,
I find it, and I daresay you do, a very easy and pleasant thing to go on serving
God when I have got a full sense of his love, and Christ shining in my face,
when every text brings joy to my heart, and when I see souls converted, and know
that God is going with the Word to bless it. That is very easy, but to keep on
serving God when you get nothing for it but blow -- when there is no success,
and when your own heart is in deep darkness of spirit -- I know the temptation.
Perhaps you are under it. Because you have not the joy you once had, you say, "I
must give up preaching; I must give up that Sunday School. If I have not the
light of God's countenance, how can I do it? I must give it up." Beloved, you
must do no such thing. Suppose there were a loyal subject in a nation, and he
had done something or other which grieved the king, and the king on a certain
day turned his face from him, do you think that loyal subject would go away and
neglect his duty because the king frowned? No; methinks he would say to himself,
"I do not know why the king seemed to deal hardly with me. He is a good king,
and I know he is good, if he does not see any good in me, and I will work for
him more than ever. I will prove to him that my loyalty does not depend upon his
smiles. I am his loyal subject, and will stand to him still." What would you say
to your child if you had to chasten him for doing wrong, if he were to go away
and say, "I shall not attend to the errand that father has sent me upon, and I
shall do no more in the house that father has commanded me to do, because father
has beaten me this morning"? Ah! what a disobedient child! If the scourging had
its fit effect upon him, he would say, "I will wrong thee no more, father, lest
thou smite me again." So let it be with us.Besides, should not our gratitude
compel us to go on working for God? Has not he saved us from hell? Then we may
say, with the old heathen, "Strike, so long as thou forgivest." Yes, if God
forgives, he may strike if he will. Suppose a judge should forgive a malefactor
condemned to die, but he should say to him, "Though you are not to be executed
as you deserve, yet, for all that, you must be put in prison for some years," he
would say, "Ah! my Lord, I will take this lesser ohastisement, so long as my
life is saved." And oh! if our God has saved us from going down to the pit by
putting his own Son to death on our behalf, we will love him for that, if we
never have anything more. If, between here and heaven, we should have to say,
like the elder brother, "Thou never gayest me a kid that I might make merry with
my friends." we will love him still; and if he never does anything to us between
here and glory, but lay us on a sick bed, and torture us there, yet still we
will praise and bless him, for he has saved us from going down to the pit;
therefore, we will love him as long as we live. Oh! if you think of God as you
ought to do, you will not be at ups and downs with him, but you will serve him
with all your heart, and soul, and might, whether you are enjoying the light of
his countenance or not. Now to close. Our Lord is an example for us in one other
matter. He is to us our type of what shall happen to us, for whereas he said,
"Why hast thou forsaken me?": -- VI. HE HAS RECEIVED A GLORIOUS ANSWER.And so
shall every man that, in the same spirit in the hour of darkness, asks the same
question. Our Lord died. No answer had he got to the question, but the question
went on ringing through earth, and heaven, and hell. Three days he slept in the
grave, and after a while he went Into heaven, and my imagination, I think, may
be allowed if I say that as he entered there the echo of his words, "Why hast
thou forsaken me?" just died away, and then the Father gave him the practical
answer to the question; for there, all along the golden streets, stood
white-robed bands, all of them singing their redeemer's praise, all of them
chanting the name of Jehovah and the Lamb; and this was a part of the answer to
his question. God had forsaken Christ that these chosen spirits might live
through him; they were the reward for the travail of his soul; they were the
answer to his question; and ever since then, between heaven and earth, there has
been constant commerce. Ii your eyes were opened that you could see, you would
perceive in the sky not falling stars, shooting downwards, but stars rising
upward from England, many every hour from America, from all countries where the
gospel is believed, and from heathen lands where the truth is preached and God
is owned, for you would see every now and then down on earth a dying bed, but
upwards through the skies, mounting among the stars, another spirit shot upward
to complete the constellations of the glorified. And as these bright ones, all
redeemed by his sufferings, enter heaven, they bring to Christ fresh answers to
that question, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" And if stooping from his throne in
glory the Prince of life takes view of the sons of men who are lingering here,
even in this present assembly, he will see to-night a vast number of us met
together around this table, I hope the most, if not all, of us redeemed by his
blood and rejoicing in his salvation; and the Father points down to-night to
this Tabernacle, and to thousands of similar scenes where believers cluster
around the table of fellowship with their Lord, and he seems to say to the
Saviour, "There is my answer to thy question, 'Why hast thou forsaken me?'" Now,
beloved, we shall have an answer to our question something like that. When we
get to heaven, perhaps not until then, God will tell us why he forsook us. When
I tossed upon my bed three months ago in weary pain that robbed me of my night's
rest, and my day's rest too, I asked why it was I was there, but I have realized
since the reason, for God helped me afterwards so to preach that many souls were
ingathered. Often you will find that God deserts you that he may be with you
after a nobler sort -- hides the light, that afterwards the light of seven suns
at once may break in upon your spirit, and there you shall learn that it was for
his glory that he left you, for his glory that he tried your faith. Only mind
you stand to that. Still cry to him, and still call him God, and never complain,
hut ask him why, and pursue his work still under all difficulties; so being like
Christ on earth, you shall be like Christ above, as to the answer.I cannot sit
down without saying just this word. God will never forsake his people for ever.
But as many of you as are not his people, if you have not believed in him, he
will forsake you for ever, and for ever, and for ever; and if you ask, "Why hast
thou forsaken me? "you will get, your answer in the echo of your words, "Thou
hast forsaken me." "How shall ye escape if ye neglect so great salvation?"!
"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.""But if your ears
refuseThe language of his grace,And hearts grow hard like stubborn Jews,That
unbelieving race;The Lord in vengeance drestShall life his hand and swear,'You
that despised my promised restShall have no portion there.'"God grant it may
never be so with you, for Christ's sake. Amen


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  CHAPTER 16: LIGHT AT EVENING TIME
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A Sermon (No.3508) Published on Thursday, April 20th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [16]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "And it shall come to
pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear nor dark: But it shall be
one day which shall be known to the Lord, not day, nor night; but it shall come
to pass, that at evening time it shall be light." -- Zechariah 14:6-7. AS WE
read the Scriptures, we are continually startled by fresh discoveries of the
magnificence of God. Our attention is fixed upon a passage, and presently
sparklets of fire and glory dart forth. It strikes us; we are struck by it.
Hence these bright coruscations. Our admiration is excited. We could not have
thought that so much light could possibly lie concealed within a few words. Our
text thus reveals to us in a remarkable manner the penetration, the discernment,
the clear-sightedness of God. To our weak vision the current of human affairs is
like twilight. It is not altogether dark, for it is broken with some gleams of
hope. Nor is it altogether bright, for heavy masses of darkness intervene. It is
neither day nor night. There is a mingle-mangle of good and evil, a strange
confused mixture, wherein the powers of darkness con tend with the powers of
light. But it is not so with God. With him, it is one clear day. What we think
to be confusion, is order before his eye. Where we see advance and
retrogression, he sees perpetual progress. We full often bemoan our
circumstances as altogether disastrous, while God, who seeth the end from the
beginning, is working out his ordained purpose. Our God maketh the clouds to be
the dust of his feet, and the winds to be his chariot. He sees order in the
tempest and the whirlwind. When the bosom of earth heaves with earthquake, he
hears music in every throb and when earth and heaven seem mingled in one wild
disorder and storm, his hand is in the midst of all, so marking, that every
particle of matter should be obedient to his settled laws, and that all things
should work together to produce one glorious result. "Things are not what they
seem." Oh! how good it is for us to know that this world's history is not so
black and bad as to our dim senses it would appear. God is writing it out,
sometimes with a heavy pen; but when complete, it will read like one great poem,
magnificent in its plan, and perfect in all its details. At the present hour
there may be much in the condition of our country to cause anxiety or even to
create alarm. And it is not hard to point certainly to many things that seem to
augur no good. But there always were evil prophets. There always have been times
and crises when dark portents favoured unwelcome predictions. But thus far the
fury of every tempest has been mitigated; a sweet calm has followed each
perilous swell of the ocean, and the good old ship has kept afloat England's
flag -- we fondly believe: -- "The flag that's braved a thousand years, The
battle and the breeze," will not be run down yet. We thank God that the history
of our deliverances supplies us with fair omens of an ever-gracious Providence.
Let us comfort ourselves with the belief that there is a future of peace and
prosperity within her borders and of influence for good among the nations of the
world for Britain and British Christians. Then let each man brace up his sinews
for the fight, and struggle for the right Bright days are assuredly in store for
those who lift the standard and unfurl the flag of righteousness and truth. "At
evening time it shall be light." Even now it is "one day" which is known to the
Lord. As our time is brief, I mean to confine your attention to one clause of
the text, "At evening time it shall be light." It seems to be a rule in God's
dispensations that his light should break upon men gradually; and when it
appears about to suffer an eclipse it will brighten up and shine with
extraordinary lustre. "At evening time it shall be light." Of this mode of God's
procedure we will take five illustrations.I. LET REVELATION SUPPLY US WITH THE
FIRST.When God first revealed himself to the sons of men, he did not come to
them in a blazing chariot of fire, manifesting all his glorious attributes. The
sun in the Tropics, we are told, rises on a sudden. The inhabitants of those
regions know none of our delightful twilight at dawn or evening, but the curtain
rises and falls abruptly. This is not the way in which God has revealed himself
to us by degrees, softly, slowly, he lifts the veil. Thus has God been pleased
to make himself known. He took in his hand a flaming, torch when the world was
dark. Without a single ray of comfort, and he lit up the first star that ever
shone over the wild waste of the world's wilderness. That star was the promise
that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head. In the light of
that promise our first parents and their immediate descendants were cheered in
their daily toil. Seth and Enoch walked with no other light that we know of but
that. There is no record of any promise beside, which they had received from the
Lord. By-and-bye, as years revolved, God lit up another star, and then another
and another, till at last Holy Scripture became like our sky at midnight-studded
all over with greater and lesser luminaries, all brightly manifesting the glory
of God.Still it was night. Though there was a little light, there was a
prevalence of darkness. All through the Jewish dispensation, the sun did not
shine. There was only cold, but beautous in its season, silver moonlight.
Heavenly truths were reflected in shadows; the substance was not visible. It was
an economy of cloud and smoke, of type and symbol, but not of light and day of
life, and immortality. For all the light that "o'er the dark her silver mantle
threw," the saints of those times were glad and grateful; but how much more
cause for joy and gratitude have we on whom the golden sun has shone! Star after
star had been lit up in the heavens by the inspiration of Moses, and Samuel, and
David, and all the prophets, till dark and deep the night began to fall, till
sable clouds gathered dense with direful auguries. and at length a wild tempest
was heard thundering in the sky. Isaiah had completed the long roll of his
prophecy; Jeremiah had uttered all his lamentations. The eagle wing of Ezekiel
soared no longer. Daniel had recorded his visions and entered into rest.
Zechariah and Haggai had fulfilled their mission, and at last Malachi,
foreseeing the day that should burn as an oven, and beyond it the day when the
Sun of righteousness should arise with healing in his wings, closed that volume
of testimony. That was midnight. The stare seemed to be dying out, like as
withered fig-leaves fall from the tree. There was no open vision; the Word of
God was scarce; there was a famine of the bread of life in those days. And what
then? Why, you all know. At evening time it was light. Be who had long been
promised suddenly came into his temple, a light to lighten the Gentiles, and to
be the glory of his people Israel. The world's darkest hour had come, when there
was born in Bethlehem, of the house of David, Jesus, the Kin, of the Jews, and
the Saviour of men. Then the day dawned, and the day-spring from on high visited
us, precisely at that darkest hour, when men said, "God has forsaken the world,
and left it to pine away in everlasting gloom". Let that serve for a first
illustration of light at evening time, notable as a fact, and worthy to be
recollected. This, too, is precisely the way in which God acts: -- II. IN THE
CONVERSION OF INDIVIDUALS.God's laws on a great scale are always the same as his
laws on little scale. A pretty little rhyme, that many of you are familiar with,
endorses this statement."The very law that moulds a tear,And bids it trickle
from its sourceThat law preserves the world a sphere,And guides the planets in
their course."The same law which controls a planet affects a grain of dust. As
God caused revelation to arise gradually, and, growing clearer and clearer, to
become clearest when it seemed about to expire, so in the experience of each
individual, the dawn precedes the day. When the light of divine grace first
visits a man, it shines with feeble beam. Man by nature is, like a house shut
up, the windows of which are all boarded over. Grace does not open every window
jet once and bid the sun stream in upon weak eyes accustomed to darkness. It
rather takes down a part of a shutter at a time, removes some obstruction, and
so lets in, through chinks, a little light, that one may be able to bear it by
degrees. The window of man's soul is so thickly encrusted with dirt, so
thoroughly begrimed, that no light at all can penetrate it, till one layer is
taken off, and a little yellow light is seen; and then another is removed, and
then another, still admitting more light, and clearer. Was it not so with you
who are now walking in the light of God's countenance, Did not your light come
to you by little and little? Your experience, I know, confirms my statement, and
as the light came, and you discovered your sin, and began to see the suitability
of Christ to meet your case, you hoped that all was going on well. Then
peradventure, on a sudden, the light seemed altogether to depart. You were cast
into the thick darkness into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and you said,
"Oh! now my lamp is put out for ever! I am cast out from God's presence! I am
doomed beyond the hope of mercy! I shall be lost for ever and ever!" Well now,
Christian, ask yourself what came of this? When you were thus broken, sore
broken in the place of dragons, and your soul suffered the wreck of all its
carnal confidence , what then? At that evening time the light shone clearer with
you than it had ever before. When darkness veiled your mind, you looked to
Christ, and were lightened with the true light. Despairing of yourself, you cast
yourself into the arms of Christ, and you had that peace of God which passeth
all understanding, and still keeps your heart and mind through Jesus Christ. May
be I am addressing some who have been for a long while the subjects of such
humbling influences, breaking them down. You had hoped things were going pretty
fairly with you, and you trusted that at the last you would come out into clear
sunshine. But oh! how disappointed you feel! You never felt so wicked, never
knew that you were so desperately rebellious. Your heart is hard and stubborn;
you feel as if there was a mutiny in your breast. "Surely," you say, "such an
one as I am never can be saved; it is a hopeless case." Oh! my brother, very
hopeful to our view is that which appears so hopeless to you."Tis perfect
poverty aloneThat sets the soul at large;While we can call one mite our own,We
have no full discharge."Are you emptied of all merit, goodness, and hope in
yourselves? Then your redemption draweth nigh. When you are cleared out and
turned upside down, then eternal mercy greets you. Trust Christ. If you cannot
swim, give yourselves up to the stream, and you shall float. If you cannot
stand, give yourselves up to him, and he will bear you as on eagles' wings. Give
up yourself. There, let it die; it is the worst enemy you ever had. Though you
relied upon it, it has been a delusion and a snare to you. Now, therefore, throw
the whole weight and burden of your life of sin and folly upon Jesus' Christ,
the Sin-bearer, and this shall be the time of your deliverance, so the darkest
hour you ever knew shall give place to the brightest you have ever experienced.
You shall go your way rejoicing, with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. A
third illustration may be found in: -- III. THE DELIVERANCES WHICH A COVENANT
GOD WORKS FOR AN AFFLICTED PEOPLEThe same rule which we have already observed
will hold good here -- at evening time it shall be light. No child of God can be
very long without trouble of some kind or other, for sure it is that the road to
heaven will always be rough. Some visionaries have been talking of making a
railroad to the city. With this view, they would fill up the Slough of Despond,
run a tramway right through the middle of it, and construct a tunnel through the
hill Difficulty. I would not advise any of you to be shareholders in the
company, for it will never answer. It will bring thousands to the river of
Death, and swamp them there, but at the gates of the Celestial City not a
passenger will ever arrive by that route. There is a pilgrimage, and a weary
pilgrimage too, which must be taken before you can obtain entrance into those
gates. Still, in all their trials, God's people always find it true that at
evening time it shall be light. Are you suffering from temporal troubles. You
cannot expect to be without these. They are hard to bear. This, however, should
cheer you, that God is as much engaged to succour and support you in your
temporal, as he is in your spiritual interests. Beloved, the very hairs of your
head are all numbered. Not a sparrow falls on the ground without your Father
knowing it. Well, now, taking quite a material view of the question, you are of
more value than many sparrows. You may be very poor, yet be very, very dear to
your Father in heaven. Your poverty may reduce you to the utmost pinch, but that
will be the time of your sweetest relief. The widow woman at the gates of
Zarepta could hardly have been more wretched than when she had gone out to
gather a few sticks -- she says two -- enough, I suppose, to cook the handful of
meal and the few drops of oil, with which to make the last morsel for herself
and for her son. Ay, poor soul! At that very moment the prophet of God came in
-- not while there was much meal or much oil, but just as they were all spent.
He came to tell her that the barrel of meal should not waste, nor the cruse of
oil fail, till the Lord sent rain, and famine ceased in the land. God's people
in Egypt were not brought out until the rigour of their bondage had become too
bitter to bear. When it was intolerable, the Lord redeemed them with a strong
arm and a high hand. You may, my dear hearer, be so tried that you think nobody
ever had such a trial. Well, then, your faith may look out for such a
deliverance as nobody else ever experienced. If you have an excess of grief, you
shall have the more abundant relief. If you have been alone in sorrow, you
shall, by-and-bye, have a joy unspeakable, with which no stranger can
intermeddle. You shall lead the song of praise, as chief musicians, whose
wailings were most bitter in the abodes of woe. Do cast your burden on God. Let
me beseech those of you who love him, not to be shy of him. Disclose to him your
temporal griefs. For you, young people, you remember I have just prayed that you
might early in life learn to cast your burden upon God. Your trials and
troubles, while you are at home under your father's roof, are not so heavy as
those that will come when you begin to shift for yourselves. Still, you may
think them heavier, because your older friends make light of them. Well, while
you yet remain at the home of your childhood, acquire the habit of carrying your
daily troubles and griefs to God. Whisper them into your Heavenly Father's ear,
and he will help you. And why should you men of business try to weather the
storm without your God? 'Tis well to have industry, shrewdness, and what is
called self-reliance -- a disposition to meet difficulties with determination,
not with despondency: -- "To take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing
end them."Still, the only safe, the only happy course for merchant or tradesman
is to commit his way unto God, with a simple, child-like faith, taking counsel
at the Scriptures, and seeking guidance in prayer. You will find it to be a
blessed way of passing through the ordinary routine of daily anxieties, and the
extraordinary pressure of occasional alarms and panics, if you can but realise
your sacred privileges as disciples of Christ in the midst of all your secular
duties.Or are our trials of a spiritual character? Here full often our trials
abound, and here, too, we may expect that at evening time it shall be light.
Perhaps some of you pursue the road to heaven with very few soul-conflicts.
Certainly there are some who do not often get through a week without being
troubled on every side-fighting without, and fears within. Ah! brethren, when
some of you tell me of your doubts and fears, I can well sympathise with you, if
I cannot succour you. Is there anywhere a soul more vexed with doubts, and
fears, and soul-conflicts than mine? I know not one. With heights of joy in
serving my Master, I am happily familiar, but into very depths of despair-such
an inward sinking as I cannot describe-I have likewise sunk. A more frequent, or
a more fearful wretchedness of heart than I have suffered it is not likely any
of you ever felt. Yet do I know that my Redeemer liveth, that the battle is
sure, that the victory is safe. If my testimony be worth aught, I have always
found that when I am most distressed about circumstances that I cannot control,
when my hope seems to flicker where it ought to flare, when the worthlessness
and wretchedness of my nature obscure the evident of any goodness and virtue
imparted to me or wrought in me, just then it is that a sweet spring of cool
consolation bubbles up to quench my thirst, and a sweet voice greets my ear, "It
is I; be not afraid". My witness is for the Master, that, though he may leave us
for a little, it is not for long. "For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but
with great mercy have I gathered thee; in a little wrath I hid my face from thee
for a moment, but with everlasting mercy will I have pity upon thee, saith the
Lord, thy Redeemer. "Oh! believer, stay yourself upon God when you have nothing
else to stay upon. Do not rely upon appearances; above all, do not listen to the
suggestions of a murmuring, hardened spirit; do not credit the insinuations of
the infernal fiend who, when he finds you downhearted, be it from sickness of
body or anxiety of mind, is sure then to whisper some disparaging thoughts of
God. What though the suggestion strikes your heart that the Lord has forsaken
you, that your sins cannot be forgiven, that you will fall by the hand of the
enemy, hurl it back. You know whence it came. Depend upon it, though heaven and
earth go to wreck, God's promise will stand. Should hell break loose, and demons
innumerable invade this earth, they shall not go one inch beyond their tether.
The chain that God has cast about them shall restrain them. Not an heir of
heaven shall be left to the clutch of the destroyer. Nay, his head shall not
lose a hair without divine permission. You shall come out of the furnace with
not a smell of fire upon you. And being so eminently preserved, in such imminent
peril, your salvation shall constrain you to bless God on earth, and bless him
to all eternity, with the deepest self-humiliation and the highest strains of
gratitude and adoration. So, then, both in our temporal and spiritual concerns,
at evening time, when the worst has come to the worst, it shall be light. When
the tide has ebbed out the farthest, it will begin to flow in. When the winter
has advanced to the shortest day, we shall then begin to return to spring. Be
assured that it is so, it has been so, and it shall be so. To the very end of
your days you may look for light at evening time. And now may I not appeal for a
fourth illustration of the same truth to some of our friends who have come to:
-- IV. THE EVENING TIME OF HUMAN LIFE?This is often a delightful time, when the
shadows are drawn out, and the air is still, and there is a season of
preparation for the last undressing, and of anticipation for the appearing
before the King in his beauty. I envy some of our brethren, the more advanced
saints. Although old age brings its infirmities and its sorrows, yet they have
found that brings with it the mellow joys of a matured experience, and a near
prospect of the coming glory so near, so very near to their actual realisation.
John Bunyan's picture of the Land Beulah was no dream, though he calls it so.
Some of our aged brethren and sisters have come to a place of very peaceful
repose, where they do hear the songs of angels from the other side of the
stream, and the bundles of myrrh from the mountains of Bethen they bear in their
bosoms. I know you find, my dear friends, that at evening time it is light to
you, very light. You were called by grace when you were young. Bright was your
day-dawn; a precious dew from the Lord fell upon you in the morning. You have
borne the burden and heat of the day. You feel like a child that has grown
tired. You are ready to say, "Let us go to sleep, mother; let us go to sleep."
But meanwhile, before you close your eyes you are conscious of such divine
refreshment, of such love and such joy shed abroad in your hearts, that you find
the last stage of the journey to be blessed indeed, waiting and watching for the
trumpet-call that shall bid you come up higher. Your light is brighter now than
ever it was before. When you come at length to depart, though it will be
"evening time" in very truth, it will be "light." You have watched the sun go
down sometimes. How glorious he is at his setting! He looks twice as large as he
did when he was high up in the sky, and if the clouds gather round him, how he
tints them all with glory! Is there anything in all the world so magnificent as
the setting sun, when all the colours of heaven seem poured out upon earth's
sky? It does not fill you with gloom, for it is so radiant with glory. Such,
now, shall your dying bed be. To those who watch you, you shall be an object of
mare sacred interest than ever you were before. If there be some pains that
distress you, and some temptations that harass you, they shall be but the clouds
which your Master's grace and your Saviour's presence shall gild with splendour.
Oh! how light, how very light, it has been at evening time with some of our
beloved friends! We have envied them as we have beheld the brightness gleaming
from their brows in their last expiring moments. Oh! their songs! You cannot
sing like them. Oh! their notes of ecstasy! You cannot understand the bliss
unspeakable, as though the spray of the waves of heaven dashed into their faces,
as though the light of the unclouded land had begun to stream upon their visage,
and they were transfigured upon their Tabor before they passed into their rest!
Never fear dying, beloved. Dying is the last, but the least, matter that a
Christian has to be anxious about. Fear living-that is a hard battle to fight; a
stern discipline to endure; a rough voyage to undergo. You may well invoke God's
omnipotence to your aid. But to die, that is to end the strife, to finish your
course, to enter the calm heaven. Your Captain, your Leader, your Pilot is with
you. One moment, and it is over: "A gentle wafting to immortal life." It is the
lingering pulse of life that makes the pains and groans. Death ends them all.
What a light, oh! what a transparent light it must be when the spirit
immediately passes through the veil into the glory-land! In vain the fancy
strives to paint the vision of angels and of disembodied spirits, and, above
all, the brightness of the glory of Christ the Lamb in the midst of the throne!
Oh! the joy of that first bowing before the Mercy-seat! Oh! the rapture of that
first casting the crown at his feet who loved us and redeemed us! Oh! the
transport of that first folding in Immanuel's bosom, that first kiss with the
kisses of his mouth, face to face! Do you not long for it? May you not say,
"drop rapidly, ye sands of time! Fly round, ye axles of the running years, and
let his chariot come, or let our soul soon pass, and leave her mortal frame
behind, to be for ever with the Lord!" Yes, "at evening time is shall be light."
Turning now from these personal reflections, we seek our last illustration in
the mysterious unfolding of destiny, for it is our firm belief that: -- V. IN
THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD AT LARGE this saying shall be verified, and it shall
come to pass that "at evening time it shall be light."Darkness has prevailed for
a long time, nor does the prospect grow much brighter at present. The noble
enterprise of our great missionary societies is not altogether unrequited. The
prayers and efforts of a long succession of godly men are not to be accounted
vain and fruitless, but we commonly feel more cause to lament than to exult. How
little is the world lit up with the light of God yet! Are there more saved souls
in the world now than there were a hundred years after Christ's death? I do not
know that there are. A greater surface is covered with the profession of
Christianity now, but at that time the light was bright where it did shine. I am
afraid to say what I think of the gloom that is hanging in thick folds of cloud
and scud, over the nations of the earth. Still the oracle cheers my heart, "At
evening time it shall be light." Some men prophesy that it will not be so. Long
ages of delay make them grow impatient. This impatience provokes questioning.
Those questions invariably tend to unbelief. But who shall make void the
promises of God? Are not nations to be born in a day? Will the wild Arab never
bow before the King of Zion? Shall not Ethiopia stretch out her arms to God? As
children of the day, doth it not behove us to walk in the light of the Lord?
Divine testimony has more weight with us than the conjectures of benighted men!
Christ has bought this world, and he will have it in possession from the river
even to the ends of the earth. He has redeemed it, and he will claim it for his
own. You may rest assured that whatever is contained in the scroll of prophecy
shall be fulfilled according to the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of
God. Notwithstanding any difficulties you may have in interpreting the seals or
the trumpets of the Apocalypse, You have no room to doubt that Jesus Christ will
be acknowledged King of Kings and Lord of Lords over this whole world, and that
in every corner and nook of it his name will be famous. To him every knee shall
bow, and every tongue shall confess that he is Lord, to the glory of God the
Father. Do not be troubled by seers or soothsayers. Rest patiently. "Of the
times and seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you, for ye
yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the
night." As for you, your business is to work for the spreading of his kingdom,
to be continually scattering the light you have, and praying for more, to be
waiting upon God for more of the tongue of fire, for more of the baptism of the
Eternal Spirit, for more vital quickening power. When the whole Church shall be
wakened up to a spirit of earnestness and enterprise, the conversion of this
world will be speedily accomplished; the idols will then be cast to the moles
and the bats; anti-Christ shall sink like a millstone in the flood, and the
glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for
the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.Talking but the other day upon missionary
affairs with one who understands them well, he said, "Sir, we have enough
missionaries in India now, of all sorts, for the evangelisation of India, if no
more were sent out, provided that they were the right men." Oh! God, call,
qualify, send for the right men; baptize them with the Holy Ghost and with fire;
and make them fit instruments to do, to dare, to die, but withal to conquer.
Bethink you, brethren, how, when Christ began with twelve men, he shook the
earth, and now that Christians are numbered by tens of thousands, do ye tell me
that the glory of God is not to be revealed, and the conquest of the world is
not to be completed? I am afraid the Church is getting downhearted. She holds
her banner low; she marches to the fight with bated breath and tremulous spirit.
She will never win thus with craven heart. Oh! that she had more faith in her
God! Then would she be "clear as the moon, fair as the sun, and terrible as an
army with banners." If she would expect great things, she would see great
things. Nations would be born in a day if we believed it and myriads would
flock, like doves, to their windows if we did but look for it, work for it, and
bless God for such a measure of encouragement as we have. "At evening time it
shall be light." Accept this as a prophecy. Believe it on the highest warranty.
Hope for it with the liveliest anticipation. So may ye live to see it. And unto
God shall be the praise, world without end. Amen. *"Reference is made here to a
circumstance which caused the English public some passing anxiety; but a few
days sufficed to disperse the cloud, and in a few months it was obliterated from
people's memory."


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  CHAPTER 17: COMING TO CHRIST
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A Sermon (No.3509) Published on Thursday, April 27th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [17]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's-day Evening,
June 17th, 1868. "To whom coming." -- 1 Peter 2:4. IN THESE three words you
have, first of all, a blessed person mentioned, under the pronoun "whom" -- "To
whom coming." In the way of salvation we come alone to Jesus Christ. All comings
to baptism, comings to confirmation, comings to sacrament are all null and void
unless we come to Jesus Christ. That which saves the soul is not coming to a
human priest, nor even attending the assemblies of God's saints; it is coming to
Jesus Christ, the great exalted Saviour, once slain, but now enthroned in glory.
You must get to him, or else you have virtually nothing upon which your soul can
rely. "To whom coming." Peter speaks of all the saints as coming to Jesus,
coming to him as unto a living stone, and being built upon him, and no other
foundation can any man lay than that which is laid, and if any man say that
coming anywhere but to Christ can bring salvation, he hath denied the faith and
utterly departed from it. The coming mentioned in the text is a word which is
sometimes explained in Scripture by hearing, at other times by trusting or
believing, and quite as frequently by looking. "To whom coming." Coming to
Christ does not mean coming with any natural motion of the body, for he is in
heaven, and we cannot climb up to the place where he is; but it is a mental
coming, a spiritual coming; it is, in one word,a trusting in and upon him. He
who believes Jesus Christ to be God, and to be the appointed atonement for sin,
and relies upon him as such, has come to him, and it is this coming which saves
the soul. Whoever the wide world over has relied upon Jesus Christ, and is still
relying upon him for the pardon of his iniquities, and for his complete
salvation, is saved. Notice one thing more in these three words, that the
participle is in the present. "To whom coming," not "To whom having come,"
though I trust many of us have come, but the way of salvation is not to come to
Christ and then forget it, but to continue coming, to be always coming. It is
the very spirit of the believer to be always relying upon Christ, as much after
a life of holiness as when he first commenced that life; as much when he has
been blessed with much spiritual nearness of access to God, and a holy, heavenly
frame of mind; as much then, I say, as when, a poor trembling penitent, he said,
"God, be merciful to me a sinner." To Christ we are to be, always coming; upon
him always relying, to his precious blood always looking. So I shall take the
text, then, this evening thus: -- These three words describe our first
salvation, describe the life of the Christian, and then describe his departure,
for what even is that but to be still coming to Christ, to be in his embrace for
ever? First, then, these three words describe, and very accurately too: -- I.
THE FIRST SALVATION OF THE BELIEVER.It is coming to Christ. I shall not try to
speak the experience of many present; I know if it were necessary you could rise
and give your "Yea, yes" to it. In describing the work of grace at the first, I
may say that it was indeed a very simple thing for us to come to Christ, but
simple as it was, some of us were very long in finding it out. The simplest
thing in all the world is just to look to Jesus and live, to drink of the
life-giving stream, and find our thirst for ever assuaged. But though it is so
plain that he who runs may read, and a man needs scarce any wit to comprehend
the gospel, yet we went hither and thither, and searched for years before we
discovered the simplicity which is in Christ Jesus. Most of us were like
Penelope, who spun by day, and then unwound her work at night. It was even so we
did. We thought we were getting up a little. We had some evidence. We said,
"Yes, we are in a better state; are shall yet be saved." But ere long the night
of sorrow came in. We had a sight of our own sinfulness, and what we had spun, I
say, by day, we unwound again quite as quickly by night. Well, there are some of
you much in the same way now. You are like a foolish builder who should build a
wall, and then should begin to knock down all the stones at once. You build, and
then pull down. Or, like the gardener who, having put into the ground his seeds
and planted his flowers, is not satisfied with them, and thinks he will have
something else, and so tries again. Ah! the methods and the shifts we will be at
to try and save ourselves, while, after all, Christ has done it all. We will do
anything rather than be saved by Christ's charity. We do not like to bow our
necks to take the mercy of God, as poor undeserving sinners. Some will attend
their church or their chapel with wonderful regularity, and think that that will
ease their conscience, and when they get no ease of conscience from that, then
they will! try sacraments, and when no salvation comes from them, then there
will be good works, Popish ceremonies, and I know not what besides. All sorts of
doings, good, bad, and indifferent, men will take to, if they may but have a
finger in their own salvation, while all the while the blessed Saviour stands
by, ready to save them altogether if they will but be quiet and take the
salvation he has wrought. All attempts to save ourselves by our own works are
but a base bargaining with God for eternal life, but he will never give eternal
life at a price, nor sell it, for all that man could bring, though in each hand
he should hold a star; he will give it freely to those who want it. He will
dispense it without money and without price to all who come and ask for it, and,
hungering and thirsting, are ready to receive it as his free gift, but: --
"Perish the virtue, as it ought, abhorred,And the fool with it, who insults his
Lord,"by bringing in anything that he can do as a Around of dependence, and
putting that in the place of the blood and righteousness of the Lord Jesus
Christ.I said, dear friends, that it was very simple, and indeed it is so, a
very simple thing to trust Jesus and be saved, but it cost some of us many a day
to find it out. Shall I just mention some of the ways in which persons are, long
before they find it out. Some ask, "What is the best way to act faith? What is
the best way to get this precious believing that I hear so much spoken of?" Now
the question reminds me of a madman who, standing at a table which is well
spread, says to a person standing there, "Tell me what is the best way to eat.
What is the philosophy of eating?" "Why," the man replies, "I cannot be long
about that; I need not write a long treatise on it: the best way I know of is to
eat." And when people say, "What is the best way to get faith?" I say,
"Believe." "But what is the best way to believe?" Why, believe. I can tell you
nothing else. Some may say to you, "Pray for faith." Well, but how can you pray
without faith? Or if they tell you to read, or do, or feel, in order to get
faith, that is a roundabout way. I find not such exhortations as these put down
as the gospel, but our Master, when he went to heaven, bade us go into all the
world and preach the gospel to every creature; and what was that gospel to me?
His own words are, "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved," and we
cannot say anything clearer than that. "Believe" -- that is, trust -- "and be
baptized," and these two things are put before you as Christ's ordained way of
salvation. Now you want to philosophise, do you? Well, but why should a hungry
man philosophies about the bread that it before him? Eat, sir, and philosophise
afterwards. Believe in Jesus Christ, and when you get the joy and peace which
faith in him will be sure to bring, then philosophize as you will.But some are
asking the question, "How shall I make myself fit to be saved?" That is similar
to, a man who, being very black and filthy, coming home from a coal mine or from
a forge, says, seeing the bath before him: "How shall I make myself fit to be"?
You tell him at once that there cannot be any fitness for washing, except
filthiness, which is the reverse of a fitness. So there can be no fitness for
believing in Christ, except sinfulness, which is, indeed, the reverse of
fitness. If you are hungry, you are fit to eat; if you are thirsty, you are fit
to drink; if you are naked, you are fitted to receive the garments which charity
is giving to those who need them; if you are a sinner, you are fitted for
Christ, and Christ for you; if you are guilty, you are fitted to be pardoned; if
you are lost, you are fitted to be saved. This, is all the fitness Christ
requireth, and cast every other thought of fitness far hence; yea, cast it to
the winds. If thou be needy, Christ is ready to enrich thee. If thou wilt come
and confess thine offences before God, the gracious Saviour is willing to pardon
thee just as thou art. There is no other fitness wanted. But then, if you have
answered that, some will begin to say, "Yes, but the way of salvation is coming
to Christ and I am afraid I do not come in the right way." Dear, dear, how
unwise we are in the matter of salvation! We are much more foolish than little
children are in common, everyday life. A mother says to her little child, "Come
here, my dear, and I will give you this apple." Now I will tell you what the
first thought of the child is about; it is about the apple; and the second
thought off the child is about its mother; and the very last thought he has is
about the way of coming. His mother told him to come, and he does not say,
"Well, but I do not know whether I shall come right." He totters along as best
he can, and that does not seem to occupy his thoughts at all. But when you say
to a sinner, "Come to Christ, and you shall have eternal life," he thinks about
nothing but his coming. He will not think about eternal life, nor yet about
Jesus Christ, to whom he is bidden to come, but only about coming, when he need
not think of that at all, but just do it -- do what Jesus bids him -- simply
trust him." "What kind of coming is that," says John Bunyan, "which saves a
soul?" and he answers, "Any coming in all the world if it does but come to
Jesus." Some come running; at the very first sermon they hear they believe in
him. Some come slowly; they are many years before they can trust him. Some come
creeping; scarcely able to come, they have to be helped by others, but as long
as they do but come, he has said, "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast
out." You may have came in the most awkward way in all the world, as that man
did who was let down by ropes through the ceiling into the place where Jesus
was, but Christ rejects no coming sinner, and you need not be looking to your
coming, but looking to Christ. Look to him as God -- he can save you; as the
bleeding, dying Son of Man -- he is willing to save you, and flat before his
cross, with all your guilt upon you, cast yourself, and believe that he will
save you. Trust him to do it, and he must save you, for that is his own word,
and from it he cannot depart. Oh! cease, then, that care about the calling, and
look to the Saviour.We have met with others who have said, "I Well, I understand
that, that if I trust in Christ, I shall be saved, but -- but -- but -- I do not
understand that passage in the Revelation: I cannot make out that great
difficulty in Ezekiel; I am a great deal troubled about predestination and free
will, and I cannot believe that I shall be saved until I comprehend all this."
Now, my dear friend, you are altogether on the wrong tack. When I was going from
Cook's Haven to Heligoland to the North of Germany, I noticed when we were out
at sea, far away from the sight of land, innumerable swarms of butterflies. I
wondered whatever they could do there, and when I was at Heligoland I noticed
that almost every wave that came up washed ashore large quantities of poor dead,
drowned butterflies. Now do you know those butterflies were just like you? You
want to go out on to the great sea of predestination, free will, and I do not
know what. Now there is nothing for you there, ant you have no more business
there than the butterfly has out at sea. It will drown you. How much better for
you just to come and fly to this Rose of Sharon -- that is the thing for you.
This Lily of the Valley -- come and light here. There is something here for you,
but out in that dread-sounding deep, without a bottom or a shore, you will be
lost, seeking after the knowledge of difficulties, which God has hidden from
man, and trying to pry into the thick darkness where God conceals truth which it
were better not to reveal. Come you to Jesus. If you must have the knots untied,
try to untie them after you get saved, but now your first business is with
Jesus; your first business is coming unto him; for if you do not, your ruin is
certain, and your destruction will be irretrievable. But I must not enlarge.
Coming to Christ is very simple, yet how long it takes men to find it out!Again,
we, bear our witness to-night, that nothing but coming to Christ ever did give
us any peace. In my own case I was distracted, tossed with tempest, and not
comforted for some years, and I never could believe my sin forgiven or have any
peace by day or night until I simply trusted Jesus, and from that time my peace
has been like a river. I have rejoiced in the certainty of pardon, and sung with
triumph in the Lord my God, and many of you are constantly doing the same, but
until you looked to Christ, you had not any peace. You searched, and searched,
and searched, but your search was fruitless until you looked into the five
wounds of the expiring Saviour, and there you found life from the dead.And once
more, when we did come to Christ, we came very tremblingly, but he did not cast
us out. We thought he never died for us, that he could not wash our sins away.
We conceived that we were not of his elect; we dreamed that our prayers could
only echo upon a brazen sky, and never bring us an answer. But still we came to
Christ, because we dared not stop away. We were like a timid dove that is hunted
by a hawk, and is afraid. We feared we should be destroyed, but he did not say
to us, "You came to me tremblingly, and I will reject you." Nay, but into the
bosom of his love he received us, and blotted out our sins. When we came to
Jesus, we did not come bringing anything, but we came to him for everything. We
came strictly empty-handed, and we got all we wanted in Christ. There is a piece
of iron, and if it were to say, "Where am I to get the power from to cling to
the loadstone?" the loadstone would say, "Let me get near you, and I will supply
you with that." So we sometimes think, "How can I believe? How can I hope? How
can I follow Christ?" Ay, but let Christ get near us, and he finds us with all
that. We do not come to Christ to bring our repentance, but to get repentance.
We do not come to him with a broken heart, but for a broken heart. We do not so
much even come to him with faith, as come to him for faith. "True belief and
true repentance,Every grace that brings us nigh;Without money,Come to Jesus
Christ, and buy."This is the first way of salvation -- simply trusting and
looking up to Christ for everything. But, then, we did trust. There is a
difference between knowing about trust and trusting. By God's Holy Spirit, we
were not left merely to talk about faith, nor to think about it, but we did
believe. If the Government were to announce that there would be ten thousand
acres of land in New Zealand given to a settler, I can imagine two men believing
it. One believes it and forgets it; the other believes it and takes his passage
to go out and get the land. Now the first kind of faith saves nobody; but the
second faith, the practical faith, is that which, for the sake of seeking
Christ, gives up the sins of this life, the pleasures of it -- I mean the wicked
pleasures of it -- gives up all confidence in everything else, and casts itself
into the arms of the Saviour. There is the sea of divine love; he shall be saved
who plunges boldly into it, and casts himself upon its waves, hoping to be
upborne. Oh! my hearer, hast thou done this? If so, thou art certainly a saved
one. If thou hast not, oh! may grace enable thee to do it ere yet that setting
sun has hidden himself beneath the horizon. Hast thou known this before, that a
simple trust in Christ will save thee? This is the one message of this inspired
Volume. This is the gospel according to Paul, the one gospel which we preach
continually. Try it, and if it save thee not, we will be bondsmen for God for
thee. But it must save thee, for God is true, and cannot fail, and he has
declared, "He that believeth on him is not condemned, but he that believeth not
is condemned already, because he hath not believed on the Son of God."Thus I
have tried to explain as clearly as I can that coming to Jesus is the first
business of salvation. Now, secondly, and with brevity. This is: -- II. A GOOD
DESCRIPTION OF THE ENTIRE CHRISTIAN LIFE.The Christian is always coming to
Christ. He does not look upon faith as a matter of twenty years ago, and done
with, but he comes today and he will come to-morrow. He will come to Jesus
Christ afresh to-night before he goes to bed. We come to Jesus daily, for Christ
is like the well outside the cottager's house. The man lets down the bucket and
gets the cooling draught, but he goes again to-morrow, and he will have to go
again at night if he is to leave a fresh supply. He must constantly go to the
same place. Fishes do not live in the water they were in yesterday; they must be
in it to-day. Men do not breathe the air which they breathed a week ago; they
must have fresh air into the lungs moment by moment. Nobody thinks that he can
be fed upon the fact that he did have a good meal six weeks ago; he has to eat
continually. So "the just shall live by faith." We come to Jesus just as we came
at first, and we say to him: -- "Nothing in my hands I bring,Simply to thy cross
I cling;Naked come to thee for dress,Helpless, look to thee for grace;Foul, I to
the fountain fly,Wash me, Saviour, or I die."This is the daily and hourly life
of the Christian.But while we thus come daily, we come more boldly than we used
to do. At first we came like cringing slaves; now we came as emancipated men. At
first we came as strangers. Now we come as brethren. We still come to the cross,
but it is not so much to find pardon for past sins, for these are forgiven, as
to find fresh comfort from looking up to him who wrought out perfect
righteousness for us.We come, also, to Jesus Christ, more closely than we used
to do. I hope, brethren and sisters, you can say that you are not at such a
distance from Christ now as you once were. We ought to be always getting nearer
to him. The old preachers used to illustrate nearness to Christ by the planets.
They said there were Jupiter and Saturn far away, with very little light and
very little heat from the sun, and then they have their satellites, their rings,
their moons, and their belts to make for that. Just so they said, with some
Christians. They get worldly comforts -- their moons, and their belts -- but
they have not got much of their Master; they have got enough to save them, but
oh! such little light. But, said they, when you get to Mercury, there is a
planet without moons. Why, the sun is its moon, and, therefore, what does it
want with moons when it has the full blaze of the sun's light and heat
continually pouring upon it? And what a nimble planet it is; how it spins along
in its orbit, because it is near the sun! Oh! to be like that -- not to be far
away from Jesus Christ, even with all the comforts of this life, but to be near
him, filled with life and sacred activity through the abundance of fellowship
and communion with him. It is still coming, but it is coming after a nearer
sort.And I may say, too, that it is coming of a dearer sort, for there is more
love in our coming now than there used to be. We did come at first, not so much
loving Christ, as venturing to trust him, thinking him, perhaps, to be a hard
Master; but now we know him to be the best of friends, the dearest of husbands.
We come to his bosom, and we lean our heads upon it. We come in our private
devotion; we tell him all our troubles; we unburden our hearts, and get his love
shed abroad in our hearts in return, and we go away with a joy that makes our
heart to leap within us and to bound like a young roe over the mountain-tops.
Oh! happy is that man who gets right into the wounds of Jesus, and, with Thomas,
cries, "My Lord and my God!" This is no, fanaticism, but a thing of sober, sound
experience with some of us. We can rejoice in him, having no confidence in the
flesh. It is still coming but it is coming after a dearer fashion. Yet, mark
you, it is coming still to the same person, coming still as poor humble ones to
Christ. I have often told you, my dear brethren and sisters, that when you get a
little above the ground, if it is only an inch, you get too high. When you begin
to think that surely you are a saint, and that you have some good thing to trust
to, that rotten stuff must all be pulled to pieces. Believe me, God will not let
his people wear a rag of their own spinning; they must be clothed with Christ's
righteousness from head to foot. The old heathen said he wrapped himself up in
his integrity, but I should think he did not know what holes there were in it,
or else he would have looked for something better. But we wrap ourselves in the
righteousness of Christ, and there is not a cherub before the throne that wears
a vestment so right royal as the poor sinner does when he wears the
righteousness of Jesus Christ. Oh! child of God, always live upon your Lord.
Hang upon him, as the pitcher hangs upon the nail. Lean on your Beloved; his arm
will never weary of you. Stay yourselves upon him; wash in the precious fountain
always; wear his righteousness continually; and be glad in the Lord, and your
gladness need never fail while you simply and wholly lean upon him. And now, not
to detain you longer, I come to the last point, upon which we will only say a
word or two. The text is: -- III. A VERY CORRECT DESCRIPTION OF OUR
DEPARTURE."To whom coming." We shall soon, very soon, quit this mortal frame. I
hope you have learned to think of that without any kind of shudder. Can you not
sing: -- "Ah! I shall soon be dying,Time swiftly glides away;But on my Lord
relyingI hail the happy day."What is there that we should wait here for? Those
who have the most of this world's cods have found it paltry stuff. It perishes
in the using. There is a satiety about it; it cannot satisfy the great heart of
an immortal man. It is well for us that there is to be an end of this life, and
especially for us to whom that end is glowing with immortality. Well, the hour
of death will be to us a coming to Christ, a coming to sit upon his throne. Did
you ever think of that? "To him that overcometh will I give to sit upon my
throne." Lord, Lord, we would be well content to, sit at thy feet. 'Twere all
the heaven we would ask if we might but creep behind the door, or stand and be
manual servants, or sit, like Mordecai, in the king's court.' No; but it must
not be. We must sit on his throne, and reign with him for ever and ever. This is
what death will bring you -- a glorious participation in the royalties of your
ascended Lord.What is the next thing? "Father, I will that they also whom thou
hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." So that we,
are to be going to Christ ere long to behold his glory, and what a sight that
will be! Have you ever thought of that too? What must it be to behold his glory?
Some of my brethren think that when they get to heaven they shall like to behold
some of the works of God in nature and so on. I must confess myself more
satisfied with the idea that I shall behold his glory, the glory of the
Crucified, for it seems to me that no kind of heaven but that comes up to the
description of the Apostle when he saith, "Eye hath not seen, nor hath ear
heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things
which God hath prepared for them that love him." But to see the stars, has
entered into the heart of man, and to behold the works of God in nature, has
been conceived of; but the joys we speak of are so spiritual that the Apostle
says, "He has revealed them unto us by his Spirit," and this is what he has
revealed, "That they may behold my glory." St. Augustine used to say there were
two sights he would like to have seen -- Rome in her splendour, and Paul
preaching -- the last the better sight of the two. But there is a third sight
for which one might give up all, give up seeing Naples, or seeing anything, if
we might but see the King his beauty. Why, even the distant glimpse which we
catch of him through a glass or a telescope darkly ravishes the soul. Dr. Hawker
was once waited upon by a friend, who asked him to go and see a naval review. He
said, "No, thank you; I do not want to go." "You are a loyal man, doctor, and
you would like to see the defences of your country." "Thank you, I do not wish
to go." "But I have got a ticket for you, and you must go." "No," he said,
"thank you," and after he had been pressed hard he said, "You have pressed me
till I am ashamed, and now I must tell you -- mine eyes have seen the King in
his beauty, and the land which is very far off, and I have not any taste now for
all the pomps that this world could possibly show." And if such a distant sight
of Jesus can do this, what must it be to behold his glory with what the old
Scotch divines used to call "a face-to-face view"; when the veil is taken down,
when the clouds are blown away, and you see him face to face? Oh! long-expected
day begin, when we shall be to him coming to dwell with him.Once more only.
Recollect we shall come to Christ not only to behold his glory, but to share in
it. We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Whatever Christ shall
be, his people shall be, in happiness, riches, and honour, and together they
shall take their full share. The Church, his bride, shall sit on the same throne
with him, and of all the splendours of that eternal triumph she will have her
half, for Christ is no niggard to his imperial spouse, but she whom he chose
before the world began, and bought with blood, and wrapped in his righteousness,
and espoused to himself for ever, shall be a full partaker of all the gifts that
he poses world without end. And this shall be, and this shall be, and this shall
be for ever; for ever you shall be with Christ, for ever coming to him. When the
miser's wealth has melted; when the honours of the conqueror have been blown
away or consumed like chaff in the furnace; when sun and moon grow dim with age,
and the hoary pillars of this earth begin to rock and reel with stern decay;
when the angel shall have put one foot on the sea and the other on the land, and
shall have sworn by him that liveth that time shall be no more; when the ocean
shall be licked up with tongues of fire, and the elements shall melt with
fervent heat, and the earth and all the works that are therein shall be burnt up
-- then, then shall you be for ever with the Lord, eternally resting, eternally
feasting, eternally magnifying him; being filled with all his fulness to the
utmost capacity of your enlarged being, world without end. So God grant it to
us, that we may come to Christ now, that we may continue to come to Christ, that
we may come to Christ then, lest rejecting him to-night we should be rejecting
him for ever; lest refusing to trust him, we should be driven from his presence
to abide in misery for ever! May we come now, for Christ's sake.


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  CHAPTER 18: THE FAINTING SOUL REVIVED
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A Sermon (No.3510) Published on Thursday, May 4th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [18]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "When my soul fainted
within me, I remembered the Lord." -- Jonah 2:7. WHEN man was first made, there
was no fear of his forgetting God for it was his highest privilege and delight
to have communion with his Maker. "The Lord God walked in the garden in the cool
of the day," and Adam was privileged to hold fellowship with God, closer,
perhaps, than even the angels had in heaven. But the spell of that sacred
harmony was rudely broken by man's disobedience and his dreadful fall. Ever
since our first parent tasted of the forbidden fruit, which brought death into
our world, and all its train of woes, his mortal race has been naturally prone
to forget God. The evil propensities of flesh and blood have made it impossible
to persuade man to remember his Creator. The complaint of God against the Jews
is true as an indictment against the whole human family. "Hear, O heaven, and
give ear. O earth: I have nourished and brought up children, and they have
rebelled against me; the ox knoweth its owner, and the ass its master's crib,
but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider." Man is foolish; he flies
from the highest good. Man is wicked; he turns his back upon supreme holiness.
Man is worldly: he forgets the kingdom of God and the world to come. Man is
wilful; he follows his own vain imaginations, and, with head-strong rebellion,
opposes himself to his God, that he may pursue his own wayward course, and
gratify his wanton passions. To convince a man of his error, to arrest him in
his evil pursuits, to reclaim him to the paths of righteousness -- this is
seldom accomplished without dire trouble and deep affliction. Some men, it is
true, are brought to God by gentle means; they are drawn by soft but mighty
bonds; still, a much larger class of persons remains, upon whom these silken
cords would exert no influence. They must not be handled softly, but must be
dealt with heavily. The picklock will never open their hearts; there must be the
crowbar, and even the battering ram, to give a furious cannonade. Some hearts
can never be captured for God and for truth except by storm. Sword in hand,
God's law must scale the ramparts. With thundering report, God's Word must dash
down the walls of their confidence, and make breach after breach in the bastions
of their pride, and even then they will fight it out, and never yield, until,
driven to an awful extremity, they see that they must either yield at once, or
else be lost for ever. It is with such persons that I now particularly want to
deal. There are those who have forgotten God after having once known him, and
they are not likely to be brought back without great trouble; and there are
others who never did know God, and they never will enquire after him, unless
they are driven to their wits' end by calamity, as when a great famine in the
land where he dwelt compelled the prodigal for very lack of bread to seek his
Father's house. So I have first to remonstrate: -- I. WITH THE BACKSLIDER. Let
me, however, before I go into the matter with you, describe a little more
minutely the individuals I wish to address. There is no need to call out your
names; it will suffice if we portray your character and describe your conduct.
There are some of you who used to be members of Christian churches years ago,
but you have gradually declined, and so reckless has your career at length
become, that it is a wonder that you have not utterly perished in your sin. You
seemed to run well on the outset, and for a time you held on in the way; but
where are you now? Well, you happen at this present to be in God's house, and I
do trust that God's own hour has come, when he will meet you and bring you back.
What we have to say of Jonah, I do entreat you to apply to yourselves; if the
cap seems to fit you, put it on and wear it, even though it should be a fool's
cap: wear it till you are ashamed of yourselves, and are led to confess your
folly before the God who is able to remove it, and to make you wise unto
salvation. Observe, dear friends, that though Jonah remembered the Lord, it was
not till he got into the whale's belly, nor even then till his soul fainted
within him. He did not remember the Lord all the time he was going down to Joppa
to find a ship, nor yet when he got on board that ship. His Master had said to
him, Jonah, go to Nineveh," but Jonah was a strong-willed, head-strong fellow.
Though a true servant of God, and a prophet, yet he fled from the presence of
the Lord. To Nineveh, he resolved within himself, he would not go. He could
foresee no honour to himself out of the journey, no increase of his own
reputation, no deference that would come to him amongst those proud Assyrians,
so, in direct defiance of the divine command, he set off to Joppa, to take a
ship and to flee from God's presence. Into the ship he got, paid the fare, and
went sallying down the sea to go to Tarshish; but all this while he never
thought of God. Not unlikely in this assembly there may be a woman who used to
be a member of a Christian church, but she married an ungodly man; after that
there was no going to the house of God, much less anything like keeping up her
church membership. The shop was kept open on Sunday, or there was a pleasure
party to be entertained at home, or an excursion taken into the country. All
this seemed very pleasant. The disquietude of conscience she might feel at first
wore off as habit made it familiar, until, year after year, this woman, who once
seemed to be a true servant of Christ, lives in carelessness and indifference,
not to say profanity, with hardly any thoughts of God. Perhaps she has not quite
given up prayer; she could not absolutely become an enemy of Christ, or
entertain a dislike to his people. Still, God was forgotten. So long as the
business prospered, the husband was in good health, and the world smiled, God
was never thought of. Can I be mistaken in supposing that there is a man here
who in his youth was a loud talker, a vehement professor of religion, and a
companion of those that fear the Lord? But after a time there seemed to be a way
of getting money rather faster than the ordinary methods of honest labour or
simple merchandise; so he entered into, a speculation, which soon ate out the
vitals of his piety. His new projects involved new companions; in their
fellowship he stifled his old convictions, and, as he would not play the
hypocrite, he ceased to make any profession at all. Perhaps months have passed
since he has been in a place of worship; even now he would rather be
unrecognised, for he has only come here because a friend from the country asked
him company to me the place and to hear the preacher. Ah! my dear sir, it is
strange indeed, if you be a child of God, that you could have walked so contrary
to God as you have. Yet so did Jonah. Do I, then, hold up his case before your
eyes to comfort you? Nay; but let me hope that you will apply the bitter rebuke
to your own soul, and be led to do as Jonah did. All the while the ship sailed
smoothly over the sea, Jonah forgot his God. You could not have distinguished
him from the veriest heathen on board. He was just as bad as they were. Yet was
there a spark of fire among the embers, which God in due time fanned into a
flame. Happy for you if this better part of his experience should tally with
your own.Such, too, was Jonah's blank forgetfulness, that he does not appear to
have thought upon his God all the while the storm raged, the billows rolled, and
the ship was tossed with tempest. The poor heathen sailors were all on their
knees crying for mercy, but Jonah was asleep in the vessel, till the
superstitious captain himself was amazed at his apathy: "What meanest thou, O
sleeper; carest thou not that we all perish?" He went down and upbraided him,
and asked him how it was that he could sleep while the passengers and crew were
all crying. "Arise," said he, "and call upon thy God." He was stirred up to his
danger and his duty, even by a heathen! Now maybe there are some here who have
had a host of troubles. Is husband dead? Are you a lone woman with a family to
provide for? Or are you a widower, looking on your children with pity, whom you
once regarded with a homely pride? Possibly you may have another form of trial.
Your business has gone to the bad; you expected to have realised large profits
by it, but you encountered loss upon loss, till your little capital has been
scattered. Still, all this while you have not thought about God. Mayhap that
child after child has been taken from you, and yet you have not remembered God.
Is it really so, that the Lord loves you, and, because he loves you, therefore
chastens you? Mark my word, you will continue to suffer loss upon loss, till you
have lost all you have and all you count dear, and you will be brought to
death's door yourself, but he will save you at last. If you ever were his, he
never will let you sink into hell; but, oh! it will be hard work for you to get
to heaven. You will be saved, but it will be so as by fire. You will be saved as
by the skin of your teeth -- scarcely saved, and the way in which you are saved
will be a most terrible one to you. Oh! friend, I wish you would turn while God
is smiting you gently, for know of a certainty if rods will not do, he will come
to scourges, and if the scourge will not do, he will take the knife, and if the
knife will not do, he will take the sword, and you shall have to feel it, for,
as sure as God is God, he will never lose his child, and he will cut that child,
as it were, into pieces, but he will save his soul. He will undermine your
constitution by disease, and make you toss upon the bed of anguish, but he will
bring you back. Oh! that you had grace to come back by gentler means before
these terrible actions are tried! So, then, Jonah did not think of God all this
time. Now at length the vessel begins to creak, and seems as if she must go to
pieces. Then they cast lots, and the lot fell upon Jonah. He is about to be
thrown into the sea. At that moment a pair of huge jaws open wide, shut again,
and swallow him up. "Where am I now?" says Jonah, as he is taken down deep by
the motions of this monstrous fish, till the weeds come into the fish and wrap
about his head, and his life is only preserved by a miracle. Then, oh! then
Jonah thinks upon his God. "When my soul fainted within me." Now why did his
soul faint within him? Was it not because he thought, "Now I am in a hopeless
case; I shall never come out of this; it is a wonder I am not drowned; it is a
marvel I was not snapped in pieces by those huge jaws; what a hopeless case I am
in! I will but linger a little while, then perish I must in this horrible prison
of a whale's belly." I dare say he thought that never was man in such a plight
before; never a person that was alive inside a fish; and how comfortless he must
have felt with nothing but the cold deep round him. Instead of garments, weeds
were wrapped about his head. How his heart throbbed, and his head ached, with no
cheer, no light, no friendly voice, no succour, no help; faraway from dry land,
out on the boundless deep, without a comrade to sympathise with his strange
plight.Now when a child of God goes astray, it is not at all unusual for God to
bring him into just such a state as that, a condition in which he cannot help
himself; forlorn and friendless, with no one that can relieve or minister to
him. This dreary thought will meanwhile ever haunt his mind, "I brought it all
upon myself!" Hast thou not procured this unto thyself? Like a woman who has
left her husband's house, deserted her home, and betrayed her kind and tender
protector, what fruit can she expect to reap of her wickedness? When she is
ready to starve, when the wind blows through her tattered raiment, when her face
is swollen with weeping, and her soul is full of anguish, she has only herself
to upbraid, as she cries, "I have brought this upon myself; would God I had
never left my cheerful homestead, however humble the lodgings might have been;
would God I had never deserted the husband who loved me, and spread his aegis
over me, however roughly he sometimes spake! Oh! that I had been more
scrupulously obedient, and less prone to discontent!" The afterthought of sin --
I think they call it remorse. Thus it was that Jonah thought upon his God, when
the shame of his transgressions overwhelmed him.Oh! how merciful our God is to
allow us to think about him, and turn to him when in so pitiable a plight!
"Yes," said a tradesman once to a customer for whose favours he felt little
cause to be grateful, "you come to me, I know why; you have been to every other
shop in the town for the article you require, and you could not obtain it; and
now you come back to me whom you had no good cause ever to leave, I shall not
serve you." This is not how the Lord speaks to us. He does not resent our
ingratitude. "My child, my poor child," says he, "though you have gone and spent
your substance; though you have been feeding swine: though you are all black,
and foul and filthy, yet you are my dear child still, and my heart yearns
towards you." Without a word of rebuke, or even a taunting look, so soon as ever
a poor sinner comes back to the Father's house, the Father's arms are round
about his neck, and the kiss of pardon is pressed on his cheek. "I remember thee
well," says he; "I have blotted out thy sins like a cloud, and like a thick
cloud thine iniquities." Now if there be a backslider here -- and I know there
are several -- I can only hope that God will bring you into Jonah's peril. You
shall have no pity from me if he does; I will rather be thankful to God that he
has brought you there, because I shall know then that he has some designs of
love towards you. But when you get into the regions of despair, do as Jonah did
-- think upon your God. What, do any of you objects? Do you imagine that to
think about God would make you worse? Well, think that you were once his child,
and think again that he has found you out, and knows where you are. Jonah felt
that God knew where he was, because he had sent the fish. God knows your
whereabouts, my good woman; he knows what quarters you are now in, my
fellow-sinner. Remember, too, that you are yet alive! what a wonder it is that
you are still permitted to hear the voice which says, "Return, return; oh!
backslider, return." God is immutable; he cannot change; his covenant is
steadfast; he will not alter it. If he has loved you once, he loves you now. If
I bought you, I will have you. Come back to him, then; he is your husband still.
Return! return! he is your Father still -- return! return! But, oh! my hearer,
perhaps you have no pretensions to be a child of his! Perhaps you may have
played the hypocrite and made a profession in your own strength. You turned back
from the company of those who fear the Lord, because you never were truly
converted. If it be so, let the mercy, which God shows to sinners, embolden you
to cry to him. And may he break you to pieces now with the hammer of his Word.
So may he save you, and so shall his praise be exceedingly great in your
salvation. Though I have tried thus to reach the backslider, it is likely enough
that I have missed my mark, honest as my intention has been. Oh! it seems so
dreadful that any of you should perish in your sins, who know the way of hope!
Some of you were candled on the knees of piety. There are those now in heaven
who look down upon you, and could they weep, you might feel their tears dropping
on your brow. You know very well that time was when the hope of a better world
yielded you some kind of comfort and joy. You do not think, at any rate, that
you were feigning piety then, but you did account yourself, a sinner. By the
compassion of the Most High, by the love of God, I pray you stop! Do not drink
the cup of devils after having drank the cup of the Lord, and give not that soul
to damnation which once seemed to bid fair for salvation. Eternal life is too
rich a prize to trifle with. May the Spirit of God do what I cannot. May he send
home these things to the persons for whom they are intended.And now we have, in
the second place, to deal with the careless, the thoughtless, the profligate --
with: -- II. THOSE WHO NEVER WERE AWAKENED -- mora1 or immoral in the world's
reckoning. Jonah did not remember God till his soul fainted within him; and the
reckless sinner, as a rule, never does remember God till under the stress of
law, or the distress of pain and penalty; his soul is ready to faint within him.
Now I hope some of you will be brought to feel this faintness.What kind of
faintness do persons who are under the saved discipline of the Spirit of God
generally feel?There is faintness of horror at their present condition. I can
imagine a person lying down on the edge of a cliff and falling asleep. On
suddenly waking up, having moved during his sleep, he finds himself within an
inch of the precipice, and looks down and sees, far beneath him, the jagged
rocks and the boiling sea. How his nerves would quiver as he realized his
position and his jeopardy! Many a sinner has thus opened his eyes to discern his
terrible hazard. He has suddenly waked up to find that he is on the brink of
eternal wrath, standing where an angry God is waving a dreadful sword, and
certain to plunge it into his heart before long. Every unconverted person here
is poising over the mouth of hell upon a single plank, and that plank is rotten;
he is hanging over the jaws of perdition by one rope, and the strands of that
rope are snapping every moment. If a man does but apprehend this and feels it, I
do not wonder that he faints.Faintness, moreover, arises from a dread of horrors
yet to come. Who can conceive the heart-sinking of those poor passengers on
board that vessel which so lately foundered in the open sea, at the prospect of
being swallowed up alive, and sinking they knew not whither! It would be no easy
thing, one would think, to keep from fainting at a time when such a doom was
imminent. So when God awakens the soul by the noise of the tempest, it looks out
and sees the ocean of divine wrath about to engulf it. The cries of lost spirits
appal it, and it says to itself, "I shall soon mingle with those shrieks; my
voice will aid the wailings of their dolorous company ore long; I shall be
driven from his presence with a fiery sword at my heels before many hours are
over." Then the soul faints with alarm at the thought of judgment to come.Faint,
too, is the soul of the sinner through a sense of weakness. "I cannot do
anything to avert the catastrophe" seems to be the leading idea of a person when
he has fainted. Over the awakened sinner there comes this sense of weakness.
When a sinner does not know himself, he thinks that being saved is the easiest
thing in the world. He supposes that to come to Christ to get peace is a matter
that can be done just as readily as one snaps his fingers. But when God begins
to deal with him, he says. "I would believe, but I cannot"; and he cries out,
"Oh! God, I find that faith is as impossible to me as keeping thy law, except
thou help me!" Once he thought he could reform himself, and become as holy as an
angel; but now he can do nothing, and he cries out for very faintness, "Oh! God,
what a poor, helpless, shiftless creature I am!"And then there will sometimes
come over him faintness of such a kind as I must call horrible. Well do I
remember when I was in that state! I thought I would give up prayer, because it
seemed of no use to pray, and yet I could not help praying; I must pray, and yet
I felt that I did not pray. I thought I would not go to hear the gospel any
more; there was nothing in it for me, and yet there was a fascination about the
preaching of the gospel that made me go and hear it. I heard that Christ was
very gracious to sinners but I could not believe that he would be gracious to
me. Little did it matter whether I heard a promise or a threatening. I liked the
threatening best. Threatenings appeared to me to be just what I deserved, and
they provoked some kind of emotion in my breast. But when I heard a promise I
shuddered with a gloomy feeling that it was of no use to me; I felt condemned
already. The pains of hell got hold upon me, so tortured was my soul with the
forebodings of an endless doom. I heard, the other day, of a young minister
becoming an infidel, and I prayed for him. What, think you, was the burden of my
petition? I prayed that God would make him feel the weight of his hand; for I
cannot imagine that a man who has once felt the weight of God's hand can ever
afterwards doubt his being, his sovereignty, or his power. Believe me, brethren,
there is such an unutterable anguish, as a man could not long endure without
becoming absolutely insane, which God makes some people feel in order to crush
their love of sin, to purge them of their self-righteousness, and bring them to
a sense of their dependence on himself. Some men can never be brought in any
other way. I may be addressing the patients I am describing. I sincerely hope I
am. You are feeling God's hand. The whole weight of it rests upon you, and under
it you are crushed, as a moth is crushed beneath one's finger. Now I have a
message from God for you. When Jonah was in your case he remembered his God.
Tell me, what sayest thou, poor heart -- what sayest thou to remembering thy
God? The case I am going to describe is not exactly that of John Newton, but it
is from his experience that I gather my picture. There is a young man with a
very good father, a holy father. As the young man grows up he does not like his
trade: he cannot bear it, no he says to his father, "While I succumb to your
government I mean to have my own way; other people enjoy themselves, and so will
I; and as I cannot do it under your roof. I will follow my fancy elsewhere." He
goes to sea. When he is at sea he discovers that all is not quite to his taste;
the work he has to do is very different from what he had been accustomed to;
still, he doesn't flinch. At the first port he reaches he gives loose to his
passions. "Ah!" says he, "this is a jolly life! This is far better than being at
home with my father, and being kept tied to my mother's apron-strings all my
days. I say a merry life is the thing to suit me, sir." He goes on board again,
and wherever the vessel puts in, each port becomes an outlet for his vices. He
is a rare boy to swear and drink, and when he comes back to England he has no
words too bitter to utter against religion in general, and against his father's
scruples of conscience in particular. It so happens that one day there comes on
a dreadful storm. He has to take a long spell at the pumps, and when that is
over he must begin to pump again, for the ship is ready to founder, and every
man must keep hard at it hour after hour. There is a driving wind and a heavy
tempest. At 1ast they are told that nothing can save them; there are breakers
ahead, and the vessel will be on shore! He lashes himself to the mast and floats
about all night, and the next day, and the next, with faint hope of life. He has
some twitches of conscience now; he cannot help thinking of his father and
mother. However, he is not going to be broken down by a trifle. He has a hard
heart, and he will not give way yet. He is crashed on shore, and finds himself
among a barbarous people. He is taken care of by the barbarians; they give him
food; albeit his meal is scant, and he is presently set to work as a slave. His
master proves harsh to him, and his master's wife especially cruel. He gets but
little to eat, and he is often beaten. Still, he bears up, and hopes for better
days. But, half-starved and hard worked, his bodily health and his mental energy
are reduced to a low degree. No marvel that fever overtakes him. Who has he to
nurse him? What friend to care for him? The people treat him as a dog, and take
no notice of him. He can neither stir nor move. In vain he pines for a drop of
water in the dead of the night; he feels that he must die of thirst. He lifts
his voice, but there is nobody to hear him. To his piteous appeal there is no
answer. Then it is he thinks, "Oh! God, if I might but get back to my father!"
Then it is, when he is at the last extremity, that he thinks of home.Now what
did happen in the case of John Newton will happen, and has happened, in the case
of many a sinner. He never would come back to God, but at last he felt that it
was no use trying anywhere else. He was driven to utter desperation. In this
dilemma his heart said, "Oh! that I might find the Lord." Hark, now: I will tell
you a tale. A lot of sailors were going to sea. When about to start, the owner
said, "There! I have bought a lifeboat; put it on board." They reply, "No,
never! We don't believe in lifeboats; they are new-fangled things. We do not
understand them, and we shall never use one." "Put it on board, and let it bide
there," says the captain. "Well, captain," says the boatswain, "a tom fool of a
boat -- isn't it? I cannot think what the owner meant by putting such a thing as
this on board." Old tars, as they walk along the deck say to themselves, "Ah! I
never saw such a thing in all my life as that! Think of old Ben Bolt taking a
lifeboat with him! Don't believe in such gimcracks!" Presently a stiff breeze
springs up, it comes to a gale -- a hurricane -- a perfect tornado! Now let down
the lifeboat, captain. "No, no, no; nonsense!" Let down the lifeboat! No; the
other boats are got out, but they are stove in, one after another, and capsized.
They bring out another; she cannot ride out the storm. There she goes, right up
on the crest of the waves and she has gone over, bottom uppermost. It is all
over with them! "What shall we do, captain?" "Try the lifeboat, boatswain." Just
so; when every spar is gone, when every other boat is washed overboard, and when
the ship is going down, they will take to the lifeboat. So be it. The Lord wash
all your boats overboard. May it please God to wreck your vessel; may he shiver
every timber, and make you take to the lifeboat. I fear me some of you will
never take counsel till you reach the crisis. May there come, then, such a storm
that you will be driven to take to Christ. That done there is no storm you need
ever fear. That done, let the loudest tempest roar, you are safe; you have
Christ in the vessel with you. Two or three more words, and I have done. God has
been pleased to give his dear Son, his only-begotten Son, to die a most dreadful
death, not for righteous ones, but for sinners. Jesus Christ came into the world
to seek and to save that which was lost. If you are a sinner, you are the sort
of person Christ came to save. If you are a lost one, you are the sort of man
that Jesus Christ came to seek. Let your present sorrow comfort you, because it
is an indication that you are the kind of person that Christ will bless. Let
your despair deliver you from despair, for when you despair there is hope for
you. When you can do nothing, God will do everything. When you are empty of your
own conceits, there is room for Christ to enter your heart. When you are
stripped, Christ's garments are provided for you. When you are hungry, the bread
that cometh down from heaven is provided for you. When you are thirsty, the
water of life is yours. Let this broken-heartedness, this terror, this alarm,
this faintness, this weakness of yours, only lead you to say, "I am such as
Christ invited to himself. I will go to him, and if I perish, I will perish only
there"; and if you trust Jesus, you shall never perish, neither shall any pluck
you out of his hand. May you trust him here and now. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 19: THE BATTLE OF LIFE
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A Sermon (No.3511) Published on Thursday, May 11th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [19]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "Who goeth a warfare
any time at his own charges?" -- 1 Cor.9:7. THIS question occurs in the course
of an argument. The Apostle was proving that the minister who gives all his time
to the preaching of the Word is entitled to a maintenance from those people
amongst whom he labours. He gives divers illustrations, amongst them this --
that the soldier who devotes himself to the service of his country is not
expected to find his own equipment and his own rations, but he is provided for
by his country. And so should it be, he teaches us, in the Church of God. The
minister set apart to labour wholly in spiritual things should have temporal
supplied found him. That isle topic, however, on which it would be superfluous
for me to enlarge. Your convictions are so sound, and your practice so
consistent, that you do not need to be exhorted, much less to be expostulated
with on that matter. But the same question may be asked when we have other
morals to point. Is it ever expected that men who go on a warfare should pay
their own charges? There is a warfare in which all of us are engaged. What is
life but a great battle, lasting from our earliest days until we sheathe sword
in death? This battle we hope to win, and yet if we succeed, it will be a
distinct and definite response to the challenge before us, "Who goeth a warfare
any time at his own charges?" We may be quite sure that if ever we attempt the
warfare of life at our own expense we shall soon find ourselves failing, and it
will end in a miserable defeat. Going at once to the subject, we have here: --
I. AN INSPIRIRING METAPHOR. When life is represented as a warfare, some peaceful
minds may feel a little alarmed at the pictures; yet there are other minds with
enough of gallantry in their constitutions to feel their blood pulsing the
stronger at the thought that life is to be one continued contest. I do but
borrow a reflection from the secular press when I say that it were ill for us if
the love of peace, fostered among us as a nation, should degenerate into a fear
of danger, a reluctance to bear hardships, or an indifference to the
accomplishment of exploits. Craven spirits we may expect always to find, who
conjure up gloomy anticipations, and to forbade horrible disasters. The
untrodden path and the unaccustomed climate are dreadful bugbears. But is this
the instinct of an Englishman? How else should he contemplate difficulties but
as problems to be solved? capital out of which fame or fortune is to be won? And
as for the British soldier, is he to be looked upon as a hot-house plant, who
shrinks from exposure? Far rather would I respect him as a representative
individual, the type of his race, always ready for any emergency. In the days of
the old Gallic wars, when we had to fight with Napoleon in Egypt, there were
just as many knotty points and critical situations to be grappled with; and
certainly at headquarters the War Department was not more efficiently managed
than it is now. Yet British soldiers pressed forward then to the conflict nor
did they pant for fortune, what they did seek was a career, with some
opportunity of distinguishing themselves. Moreover, those who stayed at home
scanned the despatches with eager interest, and full often lamented that they
had not the chance given them of going forth to the fight. Well may the patriot
ask, Has Anglo-Saxon courage all fled? if at every call to fresh deeds of
heroism we listen to the crowing of those whose nature it is to look black, and
utter dark portents. Our children's children may read how the haughty insolence
of Theodore of Abyssinia was humbled, but I hope they will never hear the
screeching of the ravens who warned us of the mountain fastnesses in which he
was lodged. The Ashantee war is behind us now, and I suppose those who were once
afraid of its perils are now amazed at its prowess. Yes, and that is how I would
have Christians feel with regard to spiritual conflicts. Difficulties! well,
they are things to be deciphered. Dangers! they are things to be met and
encountered. Impossibilities! they are to be scouted as a nightmare, a delirious
dream. The Christian wakes to find impossibility impossible. With a history
behind him and a destiny before him, he can say, "The Lord God Omnipotent
reigneth." Things that are impossible with man are possible with God. I like my
text all the better, because it implies a hostile engagement, and speaks of
warfare. For me the battlefield has no charms. With host encountering host, and
carnage left behind, I have no sympathy, but spiritually my soul seems enamoured
of the idea; I buckle on my armour at the very thought that life is to be a
conflict and a strife, in which it behaves me to get the mastery. Do I not
address many young men just commencing life? If you have thought of life at all
I hope you have thought that it is wise to begin the battle of life early. We
have all so little time to live, and the first years of life are so evidently
the best years we shall ever have, that it is a pity to waste them. Oh! how much
more some of us might have done if we had begun betimes! Had the very flush of
our boyhood been consecrated and the strength of our youth spent in our Master's
service, what work we might have accomplished! Now, young men, as a comrade a
little farther on the road than you, I take you to the brow of the hill for a
moment, and point out to you the pathway we have to pursue, and as I point it
out I tell you that you will have to fight along every inch of the road, if you
are at the end to win the crown which I hope your ambition pants after. Are you
ready for the conflict? Then let us talk awhile about it, for as we shall always
have to be on the alert, it is well for us to study the map, and to acquaint
ourselves with the tactics we must practice.Be sure, then, my friend, that if
you and, I are ever to be conquerors at the last, we shall have to, fight with
that trinity of enemies -- the world, the flesh, and the devil. There is the
world. Do you resolve to do the right and to love the true, depend upon it you
will get no assistance from this world. Of its maxims, nine out of ten are
false, and the other one selfish; and even that which is selfish has a lie at
the bottom of it. As for its customs -- well, live where you may, the customs of
the world are not such as a citizen of heaven can endorse. Go into what company
you please, and you will find that there is much of the prevailing habit that is
no friend to grace, and no friend to virtue. In the upper circles, with much
presence, there is little reality; there is a lack of sound honesty. Amongst the
lower classes, go where you will, if you firmly resolve to be a Christian, to
follow closely the footsteps of your Lord, you will have to breast the current.
The most of men are going, down the hill. You will be like the solitary
traveller when you are threading your way upwards. Do you enlist for Christ
to-night? Then know that you enlist against the whole world. You will henceforth
be an alien to your mother's children, and a stranger to your own household,
unless happily that household Should have been converted too. Young man, the
young men in the shop will be against you. Alas, for the wickedness of the young
men of London! Young woman, you will find in the workroom, aye perhaps you will
find even in your father's house, influences at work to impede, if not to thrust
you back. Man of business, when you meet others on exchange, if perchance the
conversation should turn upon religion, you will find it far from profitable,
and far from genial. You will be like a speckled bird, and all the birds round
about you will be against you. As a marked man, your motives will be mistrusted,
your character impugned, your piety burlesqued. If you resolve to win the grown
of immortality, you will only do it as by the skin of your teeth. It matters not
where you are cast, this is sure to be your lot, unless, as here and there is
the case, you may be a timid and shielded one, too weak for conflict and,
therefore, God keeps you in retirement. And yet as for the world, I think we
could easily overcome that were it not for a worse enemy.Soldier of Christ, you
have to struggle with yourself. My own experience is a daily struggle with
myself. I wish I could find in me something friendly to grace, but hitherto I
have searched my nature through, and have found everything in rebellion against
God. At one time there comes the torpor of sloth, when one ought to be active
every moment, having so much to do for God, and for the souls of men, and so
little time to do it in. At another time there comes the quickness of passion.
When we would be calm and cool, and play the Christian, bearing with patience,
there come the unadvised word and the rash expression. Anon, we are troubled
with conceit, the devilish whisper -- I can call it no less -- "How well thou
hast done! How well host thou played thy part!" This pride is the arch-enemy of
our souls. Then will come distrust foul and faithless, suggesting that God does
not regard the affairs of men, and will not interpose on our behalf. Fresh forms
of evil are generated in our own breasts, and this chameleon heart of ours,
which never seems of one colour but for a single moment, which is this and that
by turns, and nothing long, challenges us on all occasions, and against it we
shall have perpetually to struggle. Unless we deny ourselves and lay violent
hands upon the impulses of our nature, are shall never come to the place where
the crowns are distributed to the conquerors.And then another foe comes up,
though not the closest, the strongest of the three -- the devil! If you have
ever stood foot to foot with him, as some of us have, you will remember well
that blandly day, for even he who beats Apollyon concludes the battle wounded in
his own hand and in his own foot. Oh! that stern enemy! He knows how to attack
us in our sore points. He discerns our weaknesses and he is at no loss for
cunning devices. He understands how one moment to fawn upon us and flatter us,
and how the next moment to cast his fiery darts, telling us that we are
castaways, and shall never see the face of God with acceptance. He can quote
Scripture for his purpose. He can hurl threatenings at the heads of the saints,
which were only meant for sinners, and he can tear promises out of the saints'
hands, and cast them in the mire, just when they are ready to feed upon them as
fair fruits of Paradise. Believe me, it is no small thing to have had to fight
with Apollyon, the Prince of Hell. Seest thou then, young soldier, what is
before thee? There is a triple host of foes, and thou must overcome them all, or
else there shall never be given to thee the white stone, and the crown of
everlasting life. Think not that this is an engagement to be quickly terminated.
Unlike the laconic despatch of the ancient Roman, "Veni, vidi, vici," I came,
saw, and conquered, this is a continuous fight. Wouldest thou fight thy way to
heaven, not to-day, nor to-morrow; wilt thou win it with a deadly skirmish or a
brilliant dash like a knight at a tournament, thou canst not come back a
conqueror. In sober truth, every man and every woman who enlists for Christ will
have to wrestle till their bones shall sleep in the tomb. There shall be no
pause nor cessation for thee from this day until the laurel is upon thy brow. If
thou art defeated one day, thou must overcome the next; if a conqueror to-day,
thou must fight to-morrow. Like the old knights who, slept in their armour, you
must be prepared for reprisals -- always watchful, always expecting temptation,
and ready to resist it; never saying, "It is enough," for he who saith, "It is
finished," until he breathes his last has not yet truly begun. We must have our
swords drawn, even to the very last. I have sometimes thought that could we
enter heaven by one sharp, quick, terrible encounter, such as the martyrs faced
at the stake we might endure it heroically; but day after day of protracted
martyrdom, and year after year of the wear and tear of pilgrimage and
soldier-life is the more bitter trial of patience. I do but tell you in order
that you may be convinced that it is not in our power to fight this warfare at
our own charge; that if we have to endure in our own strength and with our own
resources, it is most certain that disaster will befall us, and defeat will
humble us. To fight, and fight on, is our vocation. But if thus you fight, you
may hope to conquer, for others have done so before you. On the summit of the
palace see you not those robed in white, who walk in light, with faces bright,
and sparkling o'er with joy? Can you not hear their song? They have overcome,
and they tell you: -- "To him that overcomethA crown of life shall be;He with
his Lord and MasterShall reign eternally."They have overcome; then why should
not you, Jesus Christ, who is bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, has
passed through the sternest part of the battle, and he has overcome -- a type
and representative of all those who are cross-bearers, and who shall overcome as
he has done.Do I see some young man, eager, earnest, all of a glow, ready for
the crown? Let me remind thee that thou mayest be defeated. Though it is well
for thee to begin life with a resolute determination to fight through the
battle, still I would have thee remember that thou mayest be led captive by thy
foe. There is a most instructive little book, issued by the Religious Tract
Society, called The Mirage of life, which I think all young men should read. It
gives historical pictures of the different ways in which men have sought to be
great, wherein the result of the greatness attained has proved to be in mirage,
mocking the man, as the mirage in the desert mocks the traveller when it
promises him water, and he finds none. That book contains the history of such
men as Beckford, a man worth £200,000 a year, who spent the former part of his
life in building Fonthill Abbey, with an enormous tower, enriching the place
with all the treasures that he could rather from every country; making the
grounds so splendid that crowned heads longed to look within, but, it is said,
were refused; and at the end of his life you find him almost penniless -- the
house upon which he had spent all his time and money a dilapidated ruin, the
tower fallen to the ground, and the name of Beckford forgotten. You have a
sketch of William Pitt, the heaven-born minister. One of the greatest of
statesmen, who could make war or peace at his will, and after years of the most
brilliant success he dies with a broken heart through grief. The high ambition
of men of art such as Haydon, is introduced to your notice. This great painter,
after blazing with wondrous fame in his art, took away his life because he found
himself a disappointed and forgotten man. As I read a series of such cases, each
one seemed sadder than the other, and it was enough to make a man sit down and
weep to think that our mortal race should be doomed to follow such phantoms, and
to be mocked by such delusions. As I read them all I could not help feeling how
necessary it was to say to young men, especially just as they are beginning
life, and to young women too -- aye, and the lesson is profitable for all of us
-- Take care how ye run in the race, lest after running, till ye think ye have
won the prize, ye find that in truth ye have lost it. We must take care how we
live, for this is the only lifetime we shall have in which to settle the life
that lasts for ever. Make bankruptcy in your secular business; why, you can
start again; but once make bankruptcy in soul affairs, and there is no second
life in which to start your career afresh. Are you a defeated soldier of life?
Ah! then, you can never begin again, or turn the defeat into a victory. If you
go down to your grave a captive of sin, the iron bands will be about you for
ever. There is no retrieving your position. The priceless boon of freedom is
beyond your reach. You may lament, you cannot attain it. See then, our life is a
battle; we must constantly fight; haply we may win, or haply we may be defeated.
I now proceed to mark a second point with: -- II. A KINDLY HINT.Like a cool
breath fanning our cheeks when too hot with ambition, this enquiry greets us,
"Who goeth a warfare at any time at his own charges?" So, then, charges there
will be in this life-battle. It is not to be won without pain and cost. Let us
just glance at some of these charges. You will soon see how they mount up. If
any man shall get up to heaven what a demand for courage he will have to meet!
How many enemies he must face! How much ridicule he must endure! How frequently
must he be misrepresented and maligned! How often must he be discreet enough to
be silent, and anon, bold enough to speak and avow his convictions and his
purpose!If a man shall get to heaven, what a charge of patience he will be at!
How he must bear and forbear! How he must put up with one sharp difficulty and
another, making light of fatigue and fasting, restless days and sleepless
nights; in fiery temptation unflinching, amidst cold contempt unabashed.If any
man will get to heaven, what an amount of perseverance he will require to hold
on and to hold out! What hours of prayer, what wrestling with God for a
blessing, what striving with himself to overcome sinful propensities! What a
charge of watchfulness he will be at! How he must guard the avenues of his
being! How he must track his actions to the springs of motives, and keep his
thoughts pure from guile! There can be little ease and not much slumber for a
man who would get the eternal crown. What fresh supplies of zeal he will need;
for we shall not drift into heaven without a conflict or a care. We must cut,
and hack and hew with intense energy, for the Saviour says, "The kingdom of
heaven suffereth violence and the violent take it by storm." What strength he
will require, for he has to deal with potent foes! And oh! what a charge of
wisdom he will be put to the expense of, for he has to stand against the
craftiness of evil creatures, and to overcome one who is wiser than the
ancients, even Satan, the arch-tempter.It is possible that the difficulties of
an expedition may be intensely aggravated by a lack of knowledge as to the
country to be invaded. Under such circumstances it is hard to anticipate the
contingencies that may arise. In the battle of life this is the rub. Who knows
what lies next before him? How can we forestal the surprises that may await us?
"Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring
forth." If I were aware of the temptations that would befall me a year hence, I
think I could guard myself against them, but I do not even know what pinch or
peril may befall me before the hour has passed. You cannot tell the provocations
that to-night may occur before you close your eyes in slumber. You may have a
trial or a temptation such as never crossed your path before. Hence I beseech
you to consider the greatness of the charge of this warfare. You have to pass
through an experience which no man before you has proved. All the path of life
is new to you, unmapped, untrodden, unanticipated. Yet all you lack of clear
statistics is made up for in dire prognostics. No doubt the climate is baneful,
and will subject you to fever or ague. Our British soldiers, rank and file, must
press forward though they are landed on a blazing beach, across which they have,
to march; nor will it ever do for them to be dismayed by steep mountains, dismal
swamps, or savage tribes. Bent on victory, they brave the incidents of the
campaign before they sight the adversaries they attack, while their heads and
hearts ace full of honour, promotion, stars, stripes, and Victoria crosses. But
in our eventful battle of life the checks and bars to progress, the dangers and
temptations that we shall all have to meet with in our natural constitution and
our secular calling, the unnavigable currents and the impassable barriers that
thwart us before we grapple with the main enterprise to enter heaven, are more
than I can describe in one sermon. No marvel to me that Mr. Pliable should say,
as he turned back, "You may have the, brave country yourselves for me." The
Slough of Despond, as a first part, put him into a dudgeon and he said, "I do
not like it; I will have no more of it."Apart from divine strength, Pliable was
a wise man, wise in his generation, to shrink from the adventure, for it is a
hard journey to the skies. They spake the truth who said that there were giants,
to fight with, dragons to be slain, mountains to be crossed, and black rivers to
be forded. It is so, and I pray you count the cost. There is no "royal road" to
heaven, except that the King's highway leads there. There is no easy road
skilfully levelled or scientifically macadamised. The labour is too exhaustive,
the obstructions are too numerous, the difficulties are too serious, unless God
himself come to our help. I wittingly put these dilemmas before you that I may
constrain you to say, "Who can go this warfare at his own Charges?" And now, in
the third place, let us look at our text as: -- III. A GRACIOUS REMINDER.Does
any man at any time go a warfare at his own charge? I trow not. Young man! I
have told you of difficulties and of dangers. I trust your bold spirit taught by
God, has thereby been fired to greater ardour. Now I have somewhat to say unto
thee which has cheered me, and cheered thy sires before me, and made them
strong, even in their weakness. It is this. You see you cannot go this warfare
in your own strength. Is not that clear to you? Then, I pray you, do not try it.
Do not for a moment contemplate it. If you do, you will rue it. Your fall will
be your first warning; the second time it will warn you more bitterly; if you
continue in your own strength, you will, perhaps, have a warning too late. But
you may rely on God to help you. The text implies it. If, by faith, you yield
yourself to Christ, whoever you may be, with a desire and intent to live
henceforth as a follower of Jesus, God will help you, and that right early.
Though a warfare is before you, you are not to go at your own charges. Shall I
tell you how God will help you? Certainly you may reckon upon his watchful
Providence. You little know how easy the Almighty can make a path which
otherwise would haven difficult and dangerous. Follow God's leading, and you
shall never lack for his comfort. I have lived long enough to see many people
carve for themselves very eagerly, and cut their fingers very severely. I have
seen others who albeit they were great losers for a time by doing right, have
had to bless God year after year for the abundant recompense they received
afterwards. No man shall be a loser in the long run by loving and serving God.
If thou be willing and obedient, trusting thyself with Christ, thou shalt find
those awful wheels of Providence revolve for thy welfare. The beasts of the
field shall be in league with thee, and the stones of the field shall be at
peace with thee. All things shall work together for good to them that love God.
Now I am not pretending that piety will procure wealth, or that if you espouse
Christ's cause you shall grow rich. I should not wonder if you did. You are none
the less likely to prosper in business for being a Christian. I am not going to,
predict that you shall be without sickness, much less without temptation, for
"whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth",
but sure I am of this, that if you put your trust in God and do right, no
temporal circumstances shall ever happen to you which shall not be for your
eternal good. This is forestalling much more than any transient benefit. In the
short space you are to live here you may reckon upon the gigantic wheels of
Providence as your helpers. The angels or God shall be swift to defend you. Your
eyes shall not see them, but your heart shall wax confident. You shall perceive
that by some means you have been rescued from a place of drought and led into a
fruitful land. More than this; as you go this warfare, looking to God to bear
your charges, you shall have the Lord Jesus Christ to help you. Promise not
yourself that you will be able to maintain henceforth a perfect life. Sin will
harass you. Old corruptions, even when they are driven out from the throne (for
sin shall not reign over you), will yet struggle at the foot thereof. But Jesus
Christ will be your helper. He will be always present to revive you with his
precious blood, to sprinkle your hearts from an evil conscience, to wash your
bodies with pure water. Have you never admired that picture of Christ, with the
basin and the towel washing his disciples' feet? This is what he will ever do
for you at every eventide when you have defiled yourself through inadvertence or
infirmity. Look into the face of the Crucified. Perhaps you have sometimes
wished that he were now visible, and in body accessible to you. That
sympathizing One who has suffered so much for you! You have said, "Oh! that I
might go and tell him my griefs, and get his help!" He is alive. He is here. He
is not far from any one that seeketh him. Whosoever trusteth shall surely find
Christ to be his very present help in time of trouble. Believe this, and thou
shalt prove it true.And he that is a soldier of the cross shall have the divine
power Of God the Blessed Spirit to help him. I have sometimes thought, when some
strong passion has been raging within my soul -- How can I ever overcome it? The
will was good, but the flesh was weak. But as soon as the Spirit of God has
moved on me the flesh has given way. The Holy Ghost can give the man that is
prone to idleness such an intense apprehension of the value of time that he
shall be more industrious than the naturally active man. I believe that if any
of you who are subject to a bad temper will lay this besetting sin before God in
prayer, and ask the Holy Spirit's help, you shall not only be able to curb it,
but you will acquire a sweeter and gentler spirit than some of those whose
temperament is naturally even, with no propensity to fitful change or sudden
storm. Do not tell me that there is anything in human nature too obdurate for
the Lord to overcome, for there is not. Whatever may be your temptation, you
need not account it an effectual hindrance to your being a Christian. What
though it be beyond your own power to grapple with it! When the Eternal arm
comes to the rescue; when the right hand of Jehovah is made bare; when the Holy
Spirit puts forth his irresistible power, he can smite through the loins of our
kingly sins, and cut the Rahabs and dragons of our iniquities in pieces. Rest
thou in the might of Jehovah, the God of Israel. He that brake Egypt in pieces
with his plagues can vanquish our sins with his judgments or with his grace, and
he can bring the new nature, like the children of Israel, up out of bondage into
joyous liberty. Go thou to the blood, and thou shalt conquer sin. Go to the
Eternal Spirit, and thy worst corruptions shall be overthrown. "Who goeth a
warfare any time at his own charges?" As the soldier draws from his paymaster,
so let every Christian draw from his God and Saviour. Conduct your warfare
trusting in the blessed God. My last words shall be to those who are beginning
the great battle of life. Let me urge upon them these: -- IV. CAUTIONS AND
COUNSELS.Behold the wisdom of diffidence. I heard some time ago of a minister
preaching on the dignity of self-reliance; and I thought to myself, Surely that
is the dignity of a fool! The dignity of self-reliance! Taken in a certain
sense, there is some kind of truth about it; or at least the folly of asking
counsel of your neighbour in every strait is sufficiently obvious. But he that
relies on his own wits will soon pander to expediency and grovel in the mire.
His actions will admit of no better defense than excuses and apologies. Nay,
sirs; "but let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." A better
subject, and one that no preacher need be ashamed of if the Master should come
ere the sermon be done, is the dignity of reliance upon God, and the wisdom of
diffidence of oneself. Begin life, young man, by finding out that the capital
you thought you had, is much less than it looked before you counted it. Begin
life, young man, by understanding that all in your nature that glitters is not
gold, and that your strength is perfect weakness. Begin by being emptied, and
you will soon be filled. Blessed are the poor in spirit." Begin by being poor.
If you begin with lowliness, you will not need to be humiliated."He that is down
need fear no fall,He that is low no pride;He that is humble ever shallHave God
to be his guide."He will win the battle who knows how to begin on the low ground
and to fight uphill by divine strength. Learn the wisdom, not of self-reliance,
but of self-diffidence, for he that trusteth in his own heart is a fool.Be
thoroughly alive to the importance of prayer. If all our charges in the life-war
are to be paid us by the Paymaster, let us go to the treasury. Amongst the
strangest of human sins is a distaste for prayer. I open my eyes with wonder at
myself whenever I find my own self slow to pray! Why, if your children want
anything of you, they are not slow to speak. They need not be exhorted to ask
for this or that; they speak at once. And here is the soul-enriching exercise of
prayer. Is it not strange that you and I should be slack in it? Did you ever
stand in a market and see the people coming in from the country with their
goods? How diligent they are in their business; how eager to take home as much
money as they can! How their eyes glitter; how sharp they are! But here is
heaven's market; God's wares are given away to them that will ask for them. Yet
we seem indifferent, as though we did not care to be enriched; we even leave the
mercy-seat of God unvisited! Oh! young people, do understand the value of
prayer; and you aged people, do continue in prayer and supplication; for if we
are to win this battle of our life, it can only be by taking in our charge-bill
to the great Paymaster, and asking him to discharge the charges of this war.
Consider, too, the necessity of holiness. If, in my life's warfare, I am
entirely dependent upon God, let me not grieve him. Let me seek so to walk with
him that I may expect to have him with me. Oh! let our consecration be
unreserved and complete.And in all these we must prove the power of faith. If we
have never begun to trust in Jesus, let us begin now. Oh! may the Eternal Spirit
breathe faith into our souls. The beginning of true spiritual life is here --
trusting what Christ has wrought for us, relying upon his sufferings on our
behalf. The continuation of spiritual life is here -- trusting still in what
Christ has done and is doing. The consummation of spiritual life on earth is
still the same -- trusting still, trusting ever; always repairing to Christ for
the supply of all our needs; going to him with our blots to have them removed,
with our failings to have them forgiven, with our wants and requirements to have
them provided for, with our good works and our prayers to have them rendered
acceptable, and with ourselves that we may still be preserved in him.Sharpen
your swords, soldiers of the cross, and be ready for the fray, but as ye march
to the battle let it be with heads bowed down in adoration before him, who alone
can cover your heads in the day of battle; and when you lift up those heads in
the front of the foe, let this be your song, "The Lord Jehovah is my strength
and my song; the Lord has become my salvation!" And when the fight waxes hot, if
your head grow weary, think of "him who endured such contradiction of sinners
against himself," and still fight on until you win the day, and then as the
fight draws to a close, and your sun is going down, and you can count your
scars, and are ready to enter into your rest, be this your prayer "I have gone
astray like a lost sheep, but seek thy servant, for I do not forget thy
commandments." And be this your last word on earth, "Into thy hand I commit my
spirit, for thou best redeemed me, O Lord God of my salvation"; so shall this be
your eternal song in heaven above, "Unto him that hath loved us, and washed us
from our sins in his own blood, to him be glory for ever and ever. Amen."


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  CHAPTER 20: ARE YOU MOCKED?
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A Sermon (No.3512) Published on Thursday, May 18th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [20]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. ON Lord's-day Evening,
September 17th, 1871. "Ye have shamed the counsel of the poor, because the Lord
is his refuge." -- Psalm 14:6. GOD'S Word divides the whole human race into two
portions. There is the seed of the serpent, and the seed of the woman -- the
children of God, and the children of the devil -- those who are by nature still
what they always were, and those who have been begotten again unto a lively hope
by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. There are many distinctions
among men, but they are not much more than surface-deep. This one distinction,
however, goes right through, and it is very deep. I may say that between the two
classes, the saved and the unsaved, there is a great gulf fixed. There is as
wide a difference between the righteous and the wicked as there is between the
living and the dead. The Psalmist, David, in this particular Psalm calls one
class of men fools, and another class the poor. You will observe that he begins
by describing the fool, by which he does not mean one particular man. but the
whole race as it is by nature -- the whole of that portion of the human race
that remains unregenerate. In our text he describes another class as the poor,
in which he comprehends all the saved, all the godly, all the righteous, of whom
our Redeemer hath said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven." Now from the very first, between the two seeds there has
always been an enmity -- an enmity which has never been mitigated, and never
will. It displays itself in various ways, but it is always there. In some ages
the enmity has burst forth into open persecution -- Herod has sought the young
child to destroy it; Haman has sought to destroy the whole generation of Israel;
stakes have been erected, and the faithful have been burnt; racks and inhuman
engines of cruelty have been fashioned by the art of man, through the malice of
his heart, to exterminate, if it were possible, the children of the living God.
For there is war -- perpetually war to the knife -- war ever between the two
generations. At this particular time the warfare is not less bitter; but the
restraints of Providence do not allow it to display itself as it once did, and
it now generally takes the form of cruel mockings so that our text is as
applicable to the present race as it was in David's time, "Ye have shamed the
counsel of the poor, because the Lord is his refuge." The fool bath made a mock
of the righteous man, called the poor man; and this has been the subject of his
mockery, that the godly man has been fool enough as he calls him, to put his
trust in God, and to make this the main point and purpose of his life. There may
be some here who have done this; all of us do it to some extent until we are
new-born. We ridicule, if not with the tongue, yet in our heart, those who have
made God their refuge, for when we begin to value the people of God, it is a
sign of some degree of grace in us: "We know that we have passed from death unto
life, because we love the brethren"; but until we come into that state of grace
there is a hatred or contempt, more or less developed, against those who are
resting in the living God. Now I shall at this time first of all speak of those
who are mocked; secondly, of the mockers; and thirdly, of how those who are
mocked might to behave towards those who try to put them to shame. First, then,
let us take the subject -- the object -- of the mockery of carnal minds. I. WHO
ARE MOCKED. Here we have three points: "Ye have shamed the poor," that is, the
persons; "the counsel of the poor," that is the reasons of their faith; then
their faith itself, "because the Lord is his refuge."To begin, it is very common
for ungodly men to pour contempt upon God's people, the poor; and oftentimes
they will do it by the use of these words. It so happens that many of God's
people are poor in pocket, and how often do hear the observation, "Oh! these
Methodists, these Presbyterians, these Baptists, they are a set of poor people,
mechanics, and servant-girls and so on," and how often is that uttered with a
sneer upon the lips! Well now, that is a fine thing to make fun of, isn't it,
for, after all, what is there to be ashamed of in honest poverty? I will stand
here and say that if I could stand to-morrow morning in Cheapside, and pick out
a dozen poor men, and then if I were to pick out a dozen middle-class men, and
then if I were to pick out a dozen rich men, I believe, as to character, they
would be very much of a muchness. You shall go, if you will, and pick out at
random twelve good princes, and see if you could do it; but I will pick you out
twelve working men that shall be honest, and upright, and chaste -- which great
men are not always. The poor are no worse than the rich, and have no more right
to be despised. And if it were true that all who fear God were poor, it might,
perhaps, be rather to their credit than to their dishonour, for, at any rate,
nobody would be able to say that their Dockets were lined with the result of
fraud. If they were poor, they would, at any rate, be free from many of the
accusations that might be brought against rich men. I care no more for one class
than another, especially when I preach the gospel -- you are all alike to me,
one as the other -- but this I will say, that of all jests and all sneers that
is one of the most ridiculous and mean against godly people, because they are
poor.But the sneer then takes another form. It is not that they are poor in
pocket, so much as that they are very poor in education. "Ah!" say they, "these
people -- well, what do they know? They are not philosophical; they are not
amongst those who cultivate the higher walks of literature; they are mostly
plain, simple-minded people, and, therefore, they believe their Bibles." Well, I
don't believe that. Amongst Christian people there are many men of as high an
education as among any class. The mind of Newton found root in Scripture, and
discovered depths which it could not fathom. But even if you say that, what of
it? If these men have the wisdom which cometh from above, they have something
that will last when the wisdom which is merely of this earth will have perished.
Go, take the skull of the wise man in your hand, and look at it. Is it not as
brown, is it not as ghastly a sight as the skul1 of the peasant? And what
matters it to him, now that he lies among the clods of the valley, that once he
spent his nights, with the lamp, poring into ancient tomes, or walked with his
staff to heaven to measure the distance of the stars, or bored into the depths
of the earth? It in all one to him, and if he is a lost soul, ah! who would not
give the preference to the man that was learned in the kingdom of heaven beyond
the man that was only learned in the things of earth? I see no great reason for
jest on the subject therefore. And the sneer is, to say the least, ungenerous;
for if the ungodly be so much the wiser, let them show their wisdom by not
sneering at those who do not happen to possess their gifts, but who possess what
is much more precious.And then it will take another shape -- this shaming of the
poor because of their poverty. Whey will say, "Ah! but they are poor in spirit;
they have not good ideas of themselves. Hear them -- they are always confessing
sinfulness and weakness, and they appear to go through the world without
self-reliance, relying upon some unseen power, and always distrusting
themselves, and they do not seem to have the pluck that the ungodly have. Why,
we, we who know not God can drink, and they will stop where we can go. And we
can let out an oath, but they are afraid. And there is many a song that we can
sing that these fastidious folks would not dare to hear, and there is many an
amusement which we can enjoy which they, poor creatures, are obliged to deny
themselves." Ah! well, well, if they choose to be miserable, I do not know that
you could do better than pity them. It would be a pity to be angry with them for
not enjoying what you enjoy. Don't, therefore, sneer. But, after all, sir, you
know very well that there is more manliness in refusing to sin than there is in
sinning; that there is more pluck in saying, "No, I cannot," than there is in
being led by the devil, first into one sin, and then into another. And these men
of the world that have this high spirit, and are so bold and brave -- what is it
better than the high spirit of a lunatic, who dares to put his hand in the fire?
I dare not do that which would dishonour God. I am thankful to be such a coward
that I dare not venture it. But you shall not say that we are cowardly. Lived
there ever a more earnest Christian than Havelock? Were there ever better
soldiers than his Highlanders, who learned to bow the knee before Jehovah? But,
O sirs, they could fight; they were men brave enough in the day of battle,
though they could not be brave in the way in which the ungodly are. Talk to us
Christians about want of courage! Do you ever wish to see the Ironsides again in
England, with old Oliver Cromwell at their head? We hate war, but still we quote
these instances to show that a man can bow before God like .a sneaking
Presbyterian, as you call him, and yet rise up and drive the Cavaliers, like
chaff before the wind. It is not true that we are poor in spirit in the sense
that is often attached to us. We have as much of courage of the right kind as
the ungodly have. But, sir, we can afford to bear your jest. We are afraid to be
damned; we are afraid to take a leap into the dark future, with wrath upon our
heads; we do tremble before the living god, though we will tremble nowhere else.
We count it no dim honour to fear him who is a consuming fire. But this is
commonly the cry, "They're a poor set; they're a poor set of milksops." "Ye have
shamed the counsel of the poor." But now the next point -- a very common jest --
is the reasons that Christian men give for being Christians. You notice the text
says, "the counsel of the poor," for the Christian, when he becomes a believer
in Christ, takes counsel about it. He does not believe his Bible because his
grandmother did; he does not accept the Word of God because some priest has told
him it is true; he takes counsel, and considers. This counsel, however, is
generally sneered at, as though there were no reasonableness in it; therefore,
let me just state it.The Christian has taken counsel with his own weakness. He
says, "I cannot trust myself; I am very apt to go wrong; therefore, will I put
myself into the great Father's hands, and pray him to lead and guide me. I will
not go to my business in the morning until I have asked for his protection, nor
will I close the day without asking still that I may be under his care." His
reason is because he feels himself to be a weak and fallible creature, and he
wants protection. That looks to me to be very reasonable, but to some it seems
to be the theme for laughter.The Christian has next taken counsel with his
observations. He has looked about in the world, and he could not see that
ungodly men derive pleasure from their sins. He hears them shouting loudly
enough sometimes, but he knows who hath woe, and who hath redness of the
eyes?"they that tarry long at the wine," men of drink; "they that go to seek
mixed wine." He has seen the ungodly in their quieter moments, and observed how
unsatisfactory all their best things are, and, upon the whole, he considers that
what the world offers to its devotees is not worth his seeking for. Moreover,
the Christian man has sometimes seen the sinner die, and' having seen him die,
he has discovered that there is nothing in the principles of ungodliness to give
a man comfort in his dying hour. Some of us have heard language from ungodly men
in their deaths that we would hardly like to repeat, the very memory of which
makes our blood chill. I remember once being at the bedside of a man who
alternately cursed and asked me to pray. I could not pray as I would desire. I
did what I could, and thee he would tell me it was no good; his, sins would
never be forgiven him; and then he would turn again to blasphemy. It was a dread
sight. I never saw -- and I have seen many ungodly people did never saw one die
of whom I could say, "Let me die the death of this sinner, and let my last end
be like his"; nor do I think such sights are ever or anywhere to be seen. The
Christian man, therefore, having taken counsel of that, looks for something
better that may be his stay in the time of trouble, and be his comfort in the
time of his departure out of this life. That looks to me to be good reasoning. I
think it is, and yet there are some who sneer at it.The Christian man has also
taken counsel with the Bible. Believing it to be God's Word, he feels that one
word of God is worth a ton weight of human reason. He would sooner have a drachm
of revelation than have all the weight of authority that could be brought to
bear upon his mind. And assuredly, if God be true, he is not incorrect in his
judgment.Moreover, the Christian man has taken counsel with his own conscience,
and he finds that when he walks near to God, he is most happy. He discovers
that, in keeping God's commandments, there is great reward, and though he does
not expect to be saved by his works, yet he finds himself most sustained when he
walks most carefully and jealously before the world, and when most near to his
heavenly Father. Taking such counsel as this, and finding it so much to his own
inward advantage, I cannot blame him that he still puts his trust where he
does.Moreover, the Christian man takes counsel with his own experience. There
are some of us who are as sure that God hears our prayers as we are sure that
twice two make four. It is to us not a conjecture, no, nor even a belief, but a
matter of fact. We are habitually in the custom of going to God and asking for
what we want, and receiving it at his hands; and it is no use anybody telling us
that prayer is useless. We find it constantly useful. It is of no avail for
people to say these are happy coincidences. They are very strange indeed --
strange coincidences when they occur again and again, and again, and God
continually hears our prayers. The witness that the Christian has to the truth
of his religion does not lie in the books of the learned. He is thankful for
them, but his chief witness lies here -- in his own heart, in his own inward
experience. Now we always say that you must speak as You find. The Christian has
found God faithful to him, has found him support him in the time of trial, has
found him answer his prayers in the hour of distress; and this is the counsel
that he has taken for himself, and he, therefore, for these reasons relies upon
God. Well, sneer as some may, I think we will do with our trust in God, my
brethren, as the natives of a certain American State are said to have done when
they, instead of making a law-book, agreed that the State should be governed by
the laws of God, until they had time to make better -- we will continue to put
our trust in God until somebody shall show us something better; we will still
pray, and get answered; we will still bear our troubles before God, and get rid
of them; we will still rely upon Christ and find comfort until somebody shall
bring us something better, and it won't be just yet; and, until then, sneers and
laughter shall not much affect us. And now, once more, the great point at which
the ungodly mostly aim their scoffs is the actual faith of the believer. He has
made God to be his refuge. And what, what do they say, Why, "It's all canting
talk." I do not particularly know what that means, but if ever Christian men are
accused of being cants, they can make the retort by saying that the canting is
quite as much on one side as the other, for of all cants the cant against cant
is the worst cant that ever was canted. But surely if a man shall speak the
truth in other things, and you know he does, it is not fair to say he does not
speak the truth when he says he puts his trust in God. The man is not
insincere."Oh!" but they will say, "it is ridiculous -- a man trusting in God."
Yes, but you do not think it ridiculous to trust in yourselves. Many of you
don't think it ridiculous to trust in some public man. Half of the world is
trusting in its riches, and is there anything ridiculous in leaning upon that
arm that bears the earth's huge pillars up? If so, ridicule on. To trust
weakness seems to you to be sense. I say to trust Qmnipotence is infinitely
superior wisdom, and we will continue to trust in God, for to us it seems to be
no absurdity."But," they will say, "what does your God do for you? Some of you
Christian people are very poor; some of you very sick -- very much in trouble."
Mark you, our God never said we should not be, but, on the contrary, told us it
should be so. What he does for us is this -- in six troubles he is with us, and
in the seventh he does not forsake us. He never made us a promise that we should
be rich; he never made us a promise of constant help; on the contrary, it is
written, "In the world ye shall have tribulation." But our God does this for us,
that we look upon those troubles as being so much fire that shall purge our
silver: so much of the winnowing fan that shall drive away the chaff and leave
the corn clean. We glory in tribulation and rejoice in the afflictions which God
has laid upon us. Still, that will always be a point of jest. But there is one
remark I will make before I leave this. I should like any man who doubts the
reality of faith in God to do go down to Bristol, and go to Kingsdown and see
the orphan-houses there, which Mr. George Muller has built. Now there they stand
-- substantial brick and mortar, and inside there are 2,500 boys and girls. They
eat a good deal, want a good deal of clothing, and so on. And how comes the
money? All the world knows, and no man can gainsay it, that it comes in answer
to prayer, and as the result of Mr. Muller's faith -- that, that faith has often
been tried, but has never failed. What God has done for Mr. Muller, he has done
for scores of us after our own way, and in our own walk, and we glorify his
name. Though that stands as a palpable witness, we are not less able to say than
Mr. Muller, there is a God that heareth prayer, and whoever may jest at faith,
we continue in it still, and glory in it, and rejoice. Now this is what is the
matter of jest for the mockers. But my time flies, so I must now speak a few
words only upon: -- II. WHO ARE THE MOCKERS?Our text says they are fools. Well,
that is my opinion; but it does not signify what my opinion may be. The point
that does signify, however, is that it is God's opinion of every man who is not
a believer or trusting in his God. In plain English, every such man is a fool.
That is God's opinion of him -- God that cannot err -- who is never too severe,
but who speaks the literal truth -- that he is a fool. Let me add, it will be
that man's opinion of himself one day. If he shall ever be converted -- oh! that
he may! -- he will think himself a fool to have been so long an unbeliever; and
if not, when the truth of Scripture shall be proved, and he shall be cast into
hell, then will he see his folly, and own himself to be what God said before he
was, namely, a fool. O sir, do not run the risk. There was an observation made
by a countryman that is well worth quoting, when he said to the unbeliever. "I
have two strings to my bow; you have not. Now," said he, "suppose there is no
God, I am as well off as you are; but suppose there is, where are you?" So can
we say, "Suppose, after all, our religion should be a delusion. It has made us
very happy up till now; but as for you -- suppose it should be true? Ah! where
are you then, who have despised it and have turned away from God?" May each man
who does not believe in his God know how foolish he is. Now as I gave you the
reasons for the poor man's faith, let me give you the reasons why the unbeliever
usually is an unbeliever. It is principally because he knows not God; and none
of us like to trust a person we don't know. He knows nothing of the Most High,
has never communed with him, nor even seen him in his works; and, therefore, he
cannot trust him. The unbeliever will also say that he cannot trust God because
he cannot see him, as if everything that is real must, therefore, be the object
of sight as if there were not forces in nature about which no doubts can be
entertained that are far beyond the ken of sight. They will also say that they
cannot trust God because they cannot understand him. If we could understand God,
he would not be God, for it is a part of the nature of God that he should be
infinitely greater than any created mind. I have heard of a man who went into a
smith's smithy one day, and he began complaining of the wet weather. "Why," said
he, "smith, you talk about Providence! There is too much wet by half. If there
were any Providence, it would manage things a great deal better. There is the
wheat nearly all spoilt, and the barley is going. I tell you," says he, "there
is no Providence; things don't go right." The smith took no notice of his
observations, but after a while walked across the smithy, and took down an
odd-looking tool which he used in his craft, and said to him, "Do you know what
that is used for?" "No," said he, I don't." "Look at it; look at it, and find
out." He did look, and then he said he did not know. The smith put up that tool,
and took down another, an ugly-looking tool, and says he, "Do you know what I
use that for?" "No," says the man, "I cannot conceive what you do with that."
You can't! Look at it, and see; perhaps you will find out." He looked at the
thing, and then he said, "No, I really do not know what is the use you put that
to." The smith put it up, and then walked leisurely back and said, "You are a
great dunce. You do not know the use of my tools, and I am only a smith; and you
set up to judge of the use of God's tools, and say what is right and what is
wrong. You don't even know about a smithy, and yet, you pretend to know about
the whole world. It is a most unreasonable reason not to believe in God because
I cannot understand him. The reason at the bottom is this -- the ungodly man
does not trust God, because he is God's enemy. He knows there is a quarrel
between the two. He has broken the law, he has become an enemy to his Maker; and
how shall a man trust his enemy? Besides, he knows that God won't do what he
would like God to do. He would like God to give him good health to go on in sin;
he would like him to make him happy in his lusts; he would like him to let him
live a sinner and die a saint; he would like him to shape the world so that man
might take his sinful pleasure and live as he liked, and yet, after all, receive
the wages of a righteous life; and as God won't do that -- won't bring himself
down to the sinner's taste -- therefore, the sinner says, "I cannot trust God,"
and then he turns round and laughs at the man who can, just to quiet his own
conscience and keep the little sense there is within him from rebelling against
him. Now I spoke of the Christian's faith; just let me speak of the unbeliever's
faith. It takes much more faith to be an unbeliever than to be a believer. I am
sure the philosophies of the present age which are currently set forth would
require a deal more credulity than I am the master of. I can believe Scripture
readily, and without violence to my soul, but I could not accept the theory even
of the development of our race, which is so much cried up nowadays, nor a great
many other theories. They seem to me to require a far greater sweep of credulity
than anything that is written in the Word of God. To the ungodly man this seems
reasonable. "It is reasonable to trust a great man, and to hope that he will be
the maker of you; it is reasonable to trust your own reason -- to believe you
can steer your own course; it is reasonable to be a self-made man, self-reliant;
it is reasonable to look after the main change; it is reasonable to get all the
money you can; it is reasonable to put your confidence in it (of course, it has
not any wings, and won't fly away); it is a reasonable and discreet thing to
live in this world as if you were to live for ever in it, and never think of
another world at all." To a great many it seems to be philosophy to get as far
away from God as ever you possibly can, and then you will get to be a wise man
that the creature is wisest when it forgets its creator. That is the world's
creed, and I can only say that if they scoff at our creed, we can fairly enough
scoff at theirs. Trust in yourselves! Why, you are fools to think of such a
thing. Trust in your wealth! Have you not seen rich men disappear? How about a
few years ago when -- we must remember it well, and remember it sorrowfully --
how a panic comes, and down go the towers of the great, and those who seemed to
be rich burst like bubbles And oh! the joys of earth! How soon are they
scattered, how speedily do they disappear! What are they, after all, but a will
o' the wisp? If it be a wise thing to live in this world, and never think of
dying, God grant that I may be a fool. If it be a wise thing to think all about
this poor body, and never about my immortal soul, may I never know such wisdom.
If it be a wise thing to go into the future as a leap in the dark, believing
nothing, and only by that means kept from fear, may I never know such
philosophy. Truly it seems to me to be wisdom that I, a creature who certainly
did not make myself, should think of my Creator; that I, a sinner, should accept
that blessed way of salvation, which is laid before me in the Word of God; that
I, weak and unable to steer my own course, should put my hand into the great
Father's hand and say, "Lead me, guide me by thy counsel, and afterward receive
me to glory." This may be jested at and sneered at, but it can bear a sneer and
will outlive the mocker. Now, lastly: -- III. HOW OUGHT THOSE WHO ARE MOCKED
BEHAVE towards those that at mock at them? Well, the first thing is, never yield
an inch. You young men in the great firms of London, you working men that work
in the factories -- you are sneered at. Let them sneer. If they can sneer you
out of your religion, you have not got any worth having. Remember you can be
laughed into hell, but you can never be laughed out of it. A man may by ridicule
give up what religion he thought he had, but if he cast away his soul, his
companions who caused his loss cannot help him in the day of his travail, and
anguish, and bitterness, before the throne of the Most High. Why be ashamed?
"They called me a saint." I remember once a person calling me a saint in the
street. All I thought was, "I wish he could prove it." Once a man, passing me in
the street, said, "There is John Bunyan." I think I felt six inches taller at
the least. I was delighted to be called by such a name as that. "Oh! but they
will point at you." Cannot you bear to be pointed at? "But they will chaff you."
Chaff -- let them chaff you. Can that hurt a man that is a man? If you are a
molluscous creature that has no backbone, you may be afraid of jokes, and jeers,
and jests; but if God has made you upright, stand upright and be a man.
Moreover, there is one thing you should always do when you are ashamed -- pray.
The next verse in the Psalm is, "Oh! that God would turn the captivity of Zion."
The best refuge for a believer in times of persecution is his secret resort to
God. Let him to on his kneed and say, "My Lord, I have been counted worthy to be
spoken ill of for thy name's sake. Help me to bear it. Now is my time of trial.
Strengthen me to bear this reproach. Grant that it may be no heavy burden to me,
but may I rather rejoice in it for thy name's sake." God will help you,
beloved.Then next to that, pray always, most for those who treat you worst. Make
them the constant subjects of your prayer.And then I would say, in your actions
prove the sincerity of your prayers by extra kindness towards those who are
unkind to you. Heap coals of fire upon their head. That is an expression not
always explained. When the crucible is to be brought to a great heat, and the
metal to be thoroughly melted, it is not enough for the coals all around it to
glow. The silversmith that is desiring to melt it thoroughly will heap them so
that the metal shall be all surrounded by flames. Do so, I pray you, with any of
your enemies; heap kindnesses upon them. A Christian woman had often prayed for
a very ungodly and unkind husband, but her prayers were not heard. However she
did this, she treated him more kindly than she had ever done before. If there
was any little thing that she could think of that would please his palate, if
she had to deny herself, that would be on the table. She kept the house
scrupulously comfortable, and did all she could. And one day someone said to
her, "How is it that you, with such a husband can act so towards him?" "Well,"
she said, "I hope I shall win his soul yet, but if not" -- and then the tears
came in her eyes -- all the happiness he will have will be in this life, and so
I will let him have all I can possibly give him, since he has no happiness in
the life to come." Do that with the ungodly. Lay yourself out to oblige and
serve them. Let it be known of you that the best way to get a good turn out of
you is to do you a bad turn. "Oh!" says one, "it is too hard. Tread on a worm,
and it will turn." And is a worm to be an example to a Christian? Christ Jesus,
art thou not better for an exemplar than a poor worm that creeps into the earth?
What did our Saviour do but pray for his murderers? The blood they shed redeemed
them that shed it. We have heard the old story of the sandal-wood tree that
perfumes the axe that cuts it. Do you so, O Christian! Perfume with your love
the axe that wounds you. Be like the anvil that never strikes the hammer again,
but yet the anvil wears out many hammers by its indomitable patience. Be
patient, be courteous, be kind -- in a word, Christ-like; and how know you that
these very persons who hate you most to-day will not love you well to-morrow,
and come together with you to the communion table, and together rejoice in our
blessed Saviour? Now if I have seemed to preach too harshly to-night, it is not
so in my heart. Oh! how I wish you all, everyone without exception, knew what a
blessed life the Christian life is! I would, not lie for God himself, but I
speak the truth to you. I never knew what perfect peace was until I looked to
Christ upon the cross, and rested my soul on him. I have had trials, and have
suffered bitter pains, but I have always found consolation when I have turned my
eyes to my bleeding Saviour, and have given myself up again to the great
Father's hands. He is a blessed Lord. I serve a good Master. Trust him, give
your hearts up to him, and if you have spoken against his people, or rebelled
against his love, he is willing to receive you. He has no hard word to say to
returning ones. Come to him; come and welcome. Come just now, and the Lord
receive you, for his mercy's sake. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 21: CHRIST'S MARVELLOUS GIVING
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A Sermon (No.3513) Published on Thursday, May 25th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [21]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. ON Lord's-day Evening,
November 25th, 1866. "Who gave himself for us." -- Titus 2:14. WE have once
more, you see, the old subject. We still have to tell the story of the love of
God towards man in the person of his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ. When you
come to your table you find a variety there. Sometimes there is one dish upon
it, and sometimes another; but you are never at all surprised to find the bread
there every time, and, perhaps, we might add that there would be a deficiency if
there were not salt there every time too. So there are certain truths which
cannot be repeated too often, and especially is this true of this master-truth,
that "God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their
trespasses unto them." Why, this is the bread of life; "God so loved the world
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not
perish, but have everlasting life." This is the salt upon the table, and must
never be forgotten, This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation,
"that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, even the chief." Now we
shall take the text, and use it thus: first of all we shall ask it some
questions; then we shall surround it with a setting of facts; and when we have
done that, we will endeavour to press out of it its very soul as we draw certain
inferences from it. First then: -- I. WE WILL PUT THE TEXT INTO THE WITNESS-BOX,
AND ASK IT A FEW QUESTIONS. There are only five words in the text, and we will
be content to let it go with four questions. "Who gave himself for us" The first
question we ask the text is, Who is this that is spoken of? and the text gives
the answer. It is "the great God and our Saviour, Jesus Christ, who gave himself
for us." We had offended God; the dignity of divine justice demanded that
offenses against so good and just a law as that which God had promulgated should
not be allowed to go unpunished. But the attribute of justice is not the only
one in the heart of God. God is love, and is, therefore, full Of mercy. Yet,
nevertheless, he never permits one quality of his Godhead to triumph over
another. He could not be too merciful, and so become unjust; he would not permit
mercy to put justice to an eclipse. The difficulty was solved thus: God himself
stooped from his loftiness and veiled his glory in a garb of our inferior clay.
The Word -- that same Word without whom was not anything made that was made --
became flesh, and dwelt amongst us; and his apostles, his friends, and his
enemies, beheld him -- the seed of the woman, but yet the Son of God, very God
of very God, in all the majesty of deity, and yet man of the substance of his
mother in all the weakness of our humanity, sin being the only thing which
separated us from him, he being without sin, and we being full of it. It is,
then, God, who "gave himself for us"; it is, then, man, who gave himself for us.
It is Jesus Christ, co-equal and co-eternal with the Father, who thought it not
robbery to be equal with God; who made himself of no reputation, and took upon
himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of sinful flesh,
and, being found in fashion as a man, humbled himself and became obedient unto
death, even the death of the cross. It is Christ Jesus, the man, the God, "who
gave himself for us." Now I hope we shall not make any mistakes here, for
mistakes here will be fatal. We may be thought uncharitable for saying it, but
we should be dishonest if we did not say it, that it is essential to be right
here."Ye cannot be right in the restUnless ye think rightly of him."You
dishonour Christ if you do not believe in his deity. He will have nothing to do
with you unless you accept him as being God as well as man. You must receive him
as being, without any diminution, completely and wholly divine, and you must
accept him as being your brother, as being a man just as you are. This, this is
the person, and, relying upon him, we shall find salvation; but, rejecting his
deity, he will say to us, "You know me not, and I never knew you!"The text has
answered the question "Who?" and now, putting it in the witness-box again, we
ask it another question -- "What? What did he do?" The answer is, "He gave
himself for us." It was a gift. Christ's offering of himself for us was
voluntary; he did it of his own will. He did not die because we merited that, he
should love us to the death; on the contrary, we merited that he should hate us;
we deserved that he should cast us from his presence obnoxious things, for we
were full of sin. We were the wicked keepers of the vineyard, who devoured for
our own profit the fruit which belonged to the King's Son, and he is that King's
Son, whom we slew, with wicked hands ousting him out of the vineyard. But he
died for us who were his enemies. Remember the words of Scripture, "Scarcely for
a righteous man will one die; peradventure, for a good, a generous man, one
might even dare to die; but God commendeth his love towards us, in that while we
were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly." He gave himself. We cannot
purchase the love of God. This highest expression of divine love, the gift of
his own Son, was, in the nature of things, unpurchaseable. What could we have
offered that God should come into this world, and be found in fashion as a man,
and should die? Why, the works of all the angels in heaven put together could
not have deserved one pang from Christ. If for ever the angels had continued
their ceaseless songs, and if all men had remained faithful, and could have
heaped up their pile of merit to add to that of the angels, and if all the
creatures that ever were, or ever shall be, could each bring in their golden
hemp of merit -- yet could they ever deserve you cross? Could they deserve that
the Son of God should hang bleeding and dying there? Impossible! It must by a
gift, for it was utterly unpurchaseable; though all worlds were coined and
minted, yet could they not have purchased a tear from the Redeemer; they were
not worth it. It must be grace; it cannot be merit; he gave himself.And the gift
is so thoroughly a gift that no prep of any kind was brought to bear upon the
Saviour. There was no necessity that he should die, except the necessity of his
loving us. Ah! friends, we might have been blotted out of existence, and I do
not know that there would have been any lack in God's universe if the whole race
of man had disappeared. That universe is too wide and great to miss such
chirping grasshoppers as we are. When one star is blotted out it may make a
little difference to our midnight sky, but to an eye that sees immensity it can
make no change. Know ye not that this little solar system, which we think so
vast, and those distant fixed stars, and yon mighty masses of nebulae, if such
they be, and yonder streaming comet, with its stupendous walk of grandeur -- all
these are only like a little corner in the field of God's great works? He taketh
them all up as nothing, and considereth them mighty as they be, and beyond all
human conception great -- to be but the small dust of the balance which does not
turn the scale; and if they were all gone to-morrow there would be no more loss
than as if a few grains of dust were thrown to the summer's wind. But God
himself must stoop, rather than we should die. Oh! what magnificence of love!
And the more so because there was no need for it. In the course of nature God
would have been as holy and as heavenly without us as he is with us, and the
pomp of yonder skies would have been as illustrious had we been dashed into the
flames of hell as it will be now. God hath gained nought, except the
manifestation of a love beyond an angel's dream; a grace, the heights, and
depths, and lengths, and breadths of which surpass all knowledge of all
creatures. God only knows the love of God which is manifested in Jesus Christ.
He gave himself. We will leave this point now, when it is fully understood that
Christ's dying to save sinners, and giving himself for the ungodly, was a pure
act of gratuitous mercy. There was nothing to compel God to give his Son, and
nothing to lead the Son to die, except the simple might of his love to men. He
would not see us die. He had a Father's love to us. He seemed to stand over our
fallen race, as David stood over Absalom, and we were as bad as Absalom; and
there he fled, and said, "My son, my son! Would God I had died for thee, my son,
my son!" But he did more than this, for he did die for us. and all for love of
Us who were his enemies! "So strange, so boundless was the love,Which pitied
dying man;The Father sent his equal SonTo give them life again."'Twas all of
love and of grace!The third question is, "What did he give?" "Who gave himself
for us," and here lies the glory of the text, that he gave not merely the crowns
and royalties of heaven, though it was much to leave these, to come and don the
humble garb of a carpenter's son; not the songs of seraphs, not the shouts of
cherubim: 'twas something to leave them to come and dwell amongst the groans and
tears of this poor fallen world; not the grandeur of his Father's court, though
it was much to leave that to come and live with wild beasts, and men more wild
than they, to fast his forty days and then to die in ignomy and shame upon the
tree. No; there is little said about all this. He gave all this, it is true, but
he gave himself. Mark, brethren, what a richness there is here! It is not that
he gave his righteousness, though that has become our dress. It is not even that
he gave his blood, though that is the fount in which we wash. It is that he gave
himself -- his Godhead and manhood both combined. All that that word "Christ"
means he came to us and for us. He gave himself. Oh! that we could dive and
plunge into -- this unfathomed sea -- himself! Omnipotence, Omniscience,
Infinity -- himself. He gave himself -- purity, love, kindness, meekness,
gentleness -- that wonderful compound of all perfections, to make up one
perfection-himself. You do not come to Christ's house and say, "He gives me this
house, his church, to dwell in." You do not come to his table and merely say,
"He gives me this table to feast at," but you go farther, and you take him by
faith into your arms, and you say, "Who loved me, and gave himself for me." Oh!
that you could get hold of that sweet word -- himself! It is the love of a
husband to his wife, who not only gives her all that she can wish, daily food
and raiment, and all the comforts that can nourish and cherish her, and make her
life glad, but who gives himself to her. So does Jesus. The body and soul of
Jesus, the deity of Jesus, and all that that means, he has been pleased to give
to and for his people. "Who gave himself for us."There is another question which
we shall ask the text, and that is, "For whom did Christ give himself?" Well,
the text says, "For us." There be those who say that Christ has thus given
himself for every man now living, or that ever did or shall live. We are not
able to subscribe to the statement, though there is a truth in it, that in a
certain sense he is "the Saviour of all men," but then it is added, "Specially
of them that believe." At any rate, dear hearer, let me tell thee one thing that
is certain. Whether atonement may be said to be particular or general, there are
none who partake in its real efficacy but certain characters, and those
characters are known by certain infallible signs. You must not say that he gave
himself for you unless these signs are manifest in you, and the first sign is
that of simple faith in the Lord Jesus. If thou believest in him, that shall be
a proof to thee that he gave himself for thee. See, if he gave himself for all
men alike, then he did equally for Judas and for Peter. Care you for such love
as that? He died equally for those who were then in hell as for those who were
then in heaven. Care you for such a doctrine as that? For my part, I desire to
have a personal, peculiar, and special interest in the precious blood of Jesus;
such an interest in it as shall lead me to his right hand, and enable me to say,
"He hath washed me from my sins, in his blood." Now I think we have no right to
conclude that we shall have any benefit from the death of Christ unless we trust
him, and if we do trust him, that trust will produce the following things: --
"Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity" -- we shall
hate sin; we shall fight against it; we shall be delivered from it? "and purify
unto himself ,a peculiar people, zealous of good works." I have no right.
therefore, to conclude that I shall be a partaker of the precious blood of Jesus
unless I become in my life "zealous of good works," My good works cannot save
me, cannot even help to save me; but they are evidences of my being saved, and
if I am not zealous for good works, I lack the evidence of salvation, and I have
no right whatever to conclude that I shall receive one jot of benefit from
Christ's sufferings upon the tree. Oh! my dear hearer, I would to God that thou
couldest trust the Man, the God, who died on Calvary! I would that thou couldest
trust him so that thou couldest say, "He will save me; he has saved me." The
gratitude which you would feel towards him would inspire you with an invincible
hatred against sin. You would begin to fight against every evil way; you would
conform yourselves, by his grace, to his law and his Word, and you would become
a new creature in him! May God grant that you may yet be able to say, "Who gave
himself for me"! I have asked the text enough questions, and there I leave them.
For a few minutes only I am now going to use the text another way, namely: --
II. PUT THE TEXT INTO A SETTING OF FACTS.There was a day before all days when
there was no day but the Ancient of Days; a time when there was no time, but
when Eternity was all. Then God, in the eterna1 purpose, decreed to save his
people. If we may speak so of things too mysterious for us to know them, and
which we can only set forth after the manner of men, God had determined that his
people should be saved, but he foresaw that they would sin. It was necessary,
therefore. that the penalty due to their sins should be borne by someone. They
could not be saved except a substitute were found who would bear the penalty of
sin in their place and stead. Where was such a substitute to be found? No angel
offered. There was no angel, for God dwelt alone, and even if there had then
been angels, they could never have dared to offer to sustain the fearful weight
of human guilt. But in that solemn council-chamber, when it was deliberated who
should enter into bonds of suretyship to pay all the debts of the people of God,
Christ came and gave himself a bondsman and a surety for all that was due --
from them, or would be due from them, to the judgment-seat of God. In that day,
then, he "gave himself for us."But Time began, and this round world had made, in
the mind of God, a few revolutions. Men said the world was getting old, but to
God it was but an infant. But the fulness of time was come, and suddenly, amidst
the darkness of the night, there was heard sweeter singing than ere had come
from mortal lips, "Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace; good will to
men!" What lit up the sky with unwonted splendour and what had filled the air
with chorales at the dead of night? See the Babe upon its mother's breast, there
in Bethlehem's manger! "He gave himself for us." That same one who had given
himself a surety has come down to earth to be a man, and to give himself for us.
See him! For thirty years he toils on, amidst the drudgery of the carpenters
shop! What is he doing? The law needed to be fulfilled, and he "gave himself for
us," and fulfilled the law. But now the time comes when he is thirty-two or
thirty-three years of age, and the law demands that the penalty shall be paid.
Do you see him going to meet Judas in the garden, with confident, but solemn
step? He "gave himself for us." He could with a word have driven those soldiers
into hell, but they bind him -- he "gave himself for us." They take him before
Pilate, and Herod and Caiaphas, and they mock at him, and jeer him, and pluck
his cheeks, and flagellate his shoulders! How is it that he will smart at this
rate? How is it that he bears so passively all the insults and indignities which
they heap upon him? He gave himself for us. Our sins demanded smart; he bared
his back and took the smart; he have himself for us. But do you see that
dreadful procession going through the streets of Jerusalem, along the rough
pavement of the Via Dolorosa? Do you see the weeping women as they mourn because
of him? How is it that he is willing to be led a captive up to the hill of
Calvary? Alas! they throw him on the around! They drive accursed iron through
his hands and feet. They hoist him into the air! They dash the cross into its
appointed place, and there he hangs, a naked spectacle of scorn and shame,
derided of men, and mourned by angels. How is it that the Lord of glory, who
made all worlds, and hung out the stars like lamps, should now be bleeding and
dying there? He gave himself for us. Can you see the streaming fountains of the
four wounds in his hands and feet' Can you trace his agony as it carves lines
upon his brow and all down his emaciated frame? No you cannot see the griefs of
his soul. No spirit can behold them. They were too terrible for you to know
them. It seemed as though all hell were emptied into the bosom of the Son of
God, and as though all the miseries of all the ages were made to meet upon him,
till he bore: -- "All that incarnate God, could bear,With strength enough, but
none to spare."Now why is all this but that he gave himself for us till his head
hung down in death, and his arms, in chill, cold death, hung down by his side,
and they buried the lifeless Victor in the tomb of Joseph of Arimethea? He gave
himself for us!What more now remaineth? He lives again; on the third day he
cometh from the tomb, and even then he still gave himself for us! Oh! yes,
beloved, he has gone up on high but he still gives himself for us, for up there
he is constantly engaged in pleading the sinner's cause. Up yonder, amidst the
glories of heaven, he has not forgotten us poor sinners who are here below, but
he spreads his hands, and pleads before his Father's throne and wins for us
unnumbered blessings, for he gave himself for us.And I have been thinking
whether I might not use the text in another way. Christ's servants wanted a
subject upon which to preach, and so he "gave himself for us," to be the
constant topic of our ministry. Christ's servants wanted a sweet companion to be
with them in their troubles, and he gave himself for us. Christ's people want
comfort; they want spiritual food and drink, and so he gave himself for us --
his flesh to be our meat, and his blood to be our spiritual drink. And we expect
soon to go home to the land of the hereafter, to the realms of the blessed, and
what is to be our heaven? Why, our heaven will be Christ himself, for he gave
himself for Us. Oh! he is all that we want, all that we wish for! We cannot
desire anything greater and better than to be with Christ, and to have Christ,
to feed upon Christ, to lie in Christ's bosom, to know the kisses of his mouth,
to look at the gleamings of his loving eyes, to hear his loving words, to feel
him press us to his heart, and tell us that he has loved us from before the
foundation of the world, and given himself for us. I think we have put the text
now into a setting of certain facts; do not forget them, but let them be your
joy! And now the last thing we have to do is to: -- III. TURN THE TEXT TO
PRACTICAL ACCOUNT BY DRAWING FROM IT A FEW INFERENCES.The first inference I draw
is this -- that be who gave himself for his people will cat deny them anything.
This is a sweet encouragement to you who practice the art of prayer. You know
how Paul puts it, "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us
all, how shall he not, with him, also freely give us all things?" Christ is all.
If Christ gives himself to you, he will give you your bread and your water, and
he will give you a house to dwell in. If he gives you himself, he will not let
you starve on the road to heaven. Jesus Christ does not Give us himself and then
deny us common things. Oh! child of God, go boldly to the throne of grace! Thou
hast got the major; thou shalt certainly have the minor; thou hast the greater,
thou canst not be denied the less.Now I draw another inference, namely, that if
Christ has already given himself in so painful a way as I have described, since
there is no need that he should suffer any more, we must believe that he is
willing to give himself now unto the hearts of poor sinners. Beloved, for Christ
to come to Bethlehem is a greater stoop than for him to come into your heart.
Had Christ to die upon Calvary? That is all done, and he need not die again. Do
you think that he who is willing to die is unwilling to apply the results of his
passion? If a man leaps into the water to bring out a drowning child, after he
has brought the child alive on shore, if he happens to have a piece of bread in
his pocket, and the child needs it, do you think that he who rescued the child's
life will deny that child so small a thing as a piece of bread? And come, dost
thou think that Christ died on Calvary, and yet will not come into thy heart if
thou seekest him? Dost thou believe that he who died for sinners will ever
reject the prayer of a sinner? If thou believest that thou thinkest hardly of
him, for his heart is very tender. He feels even a cry. You know how it is with
your children; if they cry through pain, why, you would give anything for
someone to come and heal them; and if you cry because your sin is painful, the
great Physician will come and heal you. Ah! Jesus Christ is much more easily
moved by our cries and tears than we are by the vies of our fellow-creatures.
Come, poor sinner, come and put thy trust in my Master! Thou canst not think him
hard-hearted. If he were, why did he die? Dost thou think him unkind? Then why
did he bleed? Thou art inclined to think so hardly of him! Thou art making great
cuts at his heart when thou thinkest him to be untender and ungenerous. "As I
live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but
rather that he would turn unto me and live." This is the voice of the God whom
you look upon as so sternly just! Did Jesus Christ, the tender one, speak in
even more plaintive tones, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest"? You working men, you labouring men,
Christ bids you come to him "all ye that labour." And you who are unhappy, you
who know you have done wrong, and cannot sleep at nights because of it; you who
are troubled about sin, and would fain go and hide your heads, and get: --
"Anywhere, anywhere out of the world," -- your Father says to you one and all,
"Run not from me, but come to me, my child!" Jesus, who died, says, "Flee not
from me, but come to me, for I will accept you; I will receive you; I cast out
none that come unto me. "Sinner, Jesus never did reject a coming soul yet, and
he never will. Oh! try him! Try him! Now come, with thy sins about thee just as
thou art, to the bleeding, dying Saviour, and he will say to thee, "I have
blotted out thy sins; go and sin no more; I have forgiven thee." May God grant
thee grace to put thy trust in him "who gave himself for us"!There are many
other inferences which I might draw if I had time, but if this last one we have
drawn be so applied to your hearts as to be carried out, it will be enough. Now
do not you go and try to do good worlds in order to merit heaven. Do not go and
try to pray yourselves into heaven by the efficacy of praying. Remember, he
"gave himself for us." The old proverb is that "there is nothing freer than a
gift," and surely this gift of God, this eternal life, must be free, and we must
have it freely, or not at all. I sometimes see put up at some of our doctors
that they receive "gratis patients." That is the sort of patients my Master
receives. He receives none but those who come gratis. He never did receive
anything yet, and he never will, except your love and your thanks after he has
saved you. But you must come to him empty-handed; came just as you are, and he
will receive you now, and you shall live to sing to the praise and the glory of
his grace who has accepted you in the Beloved, and "who gave himself for us" God
help you to do it. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 22: A PROSPECT OF REVIVAL
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A Sermon (No.3514) Published on Thursday, June 1st, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [22]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. "For the Lord shall
comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places and he will make her
wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and
gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody." --
Isaiah 51:3. THE pedigree of God's chosen nation Israel may be traced back to
one man and one woman -- to Abraham and Sarah. Both of them were well stricken
in years when the Lord called them, yet, in the fulfilment of his promise, he
built up of their seed a great nation, which, for number, was comparable to the
stars of heaven. Take heart, brethren; these things are written for our example
and for our encouragement. His Church can never sink to so low an ebb that he
cannot soon build her up again, nor in our own hearts can the work of grace ever
decline so grievously that the same mighty power which once quickened cannot
revive and restore us. Think of Abraham and Sarah, childless till they were old,
then rejoicing in one son, who became their heir. Hence sprang the great
multitude that peopled Palestine. With such a panorama unfolding before you,
there is no excuse for despair; but you may find ten thousand reasons for
confidence in God. With such preface the Lord proceeds to unfold to his people a
series of delightful promises. As we have no time to spare, and no words to
waste, we will plunge at once into the heart of the text, and observe, first,
that you have before you: -- I. HEAVENLY COMFORT PROMISED. This is a promise to
God's Church. There are some who would have us always restrain Isaiah's
prophecies to the Jews, as though this was their exclusive application. I have
no objection to your so understanding them in their original and literal sense,
nor have I any objection to our friends labouring for the Jews especially, as a
class; far rather would I commend them. Only, I would have them recollect that
no Scripture is of private interpretation that, in God's sight, neither Jews nor
Gentiles are recognised under this dispensation of the gospel, for he has made
both one in Christ Jesus. I, therefore, as a Christian minister, when I preach
the gospel, know neither Jew nor Gentile, male nor female, bond nor free, but I
simply know men as men, and go out into the world to "preach the gospel to every
creature." It seems to me that this is the order in which God would have his
Church carry out every evangelical enterprise, forgetting and ignoring all
fleshly distinctions, understanding that now men are either sinners or saints.
As to circumcision or uncircumcision, vast as its importance in the kingdom of
Israel, it is of no account in the kingdom of God. The text, we believe,
whatever may be its relation to the Jews as a people, belongs to the Church of
God and the disciples of Christ; for "all things are yours." Zion was the
stronghold of Jerusalem. Originally a fortress of the Jebusites, it was taken by
a feat of arms by David and his valiant men. It became afterwards the residence
of David, and there, too, was the residence of the Great King; for in it was
built the temple which became the glory of all lands. Hence the Church of God --
which has been captured by Christ from the world, which is the palace where he
dwells, which is the temple where he is worshipped -- is frequently called
"Zion," and the Zion of this passage, I believe, we are warranted in
interpreting as the Church of the living God. We are told here, then, that the
Lord will comfort his Church. Let the object of this comfort, therefore, engage
your attention. "The Lord will comfort Zion." Well he may, for she is his
chosen. "The Lord hath chosen Zion." He would have those upon whom his choice is
fixed be glad and happy. The elect of a great king have cause for thankfulness,
but the chosen of the King of Kings should rejoice continually in the God that
chose them. He would have his Church rejoice because he has not only chosen her,
but he has cleansed her. Jesus has put away the sin of his people by his blood,
and by his Spirit he is daily renewing the nature of his children. Sin is the
cause of sorrow, and when sin is put away sorrow shall be put away too. The
sanctified should be happy. The Lord will, therefore, comfort them, because he
cleansed them. The Church of God is placed where God dwells: -- "Where God doth
dwell sure heaven is there;And singing there should be."What can ye conceive of
weeping and lamenting in the house where Jehovah dwelleth? It was a rule with
one of the old monarchs that no one should come into his presence sad. In all
our afflictions we may draw near to the Lord, but his presence should dispel our
sorrow and sighing; for the children of Zion should be joyful in their King. If
the Lord dwelleth in the midst of his people, there ought to be shootings of
joy. The presence of the King of Heaven is the heaven of their delight.
Moreover, Zion enjoys her Monarchs love, and therefore, he would have her
comforted. We know not how dear to the heart of Christ his Church is, but we do
know this: that for his Church he left his Father's house and came down to
earth, and was poor, that she, through his poverty, might be made rich. A man
leaveth father and mother, and cleaveth to his wife, and they become one flesh;
but what shall I say of the great mystery of this glorious Lover, who left his
Father's house, and did cleave unto his Church, and became one flesh with her
that he might lift her up and set her upon his own throne, that she might reign
with him as the Bride, the Lamb's Wife? Well may, therefore, the Lord desire his
Church to be happy. Eternal love has fixed itself upon her. Eternal purposes
cluster around her. Eternal power is sworn to protect her. Eternal faithfulness
has guaranteed eternal life to all her citizens. Why should she not be
comforted? I do not wonder that the text says the Lord will comfort the people
whom he has thus favoured.And the Lord himself is the Comforter. "The Lord will
comfort Zion." Beloved, we make but sorry comforters for God's people unless
Jehovah puts his own hand to the work. I have sometime tried to cheer up my
brethren when they have been desponding, and I hope not without success; yet I
have always felt that to relieve and refresh a desponding saint, I must fetch
the remedies from my Master's pharmacy. So, doubtless, those of you who have
ever sought to obey the command, "Comfort ye, comfort ye my people," must have
found that it was not your word that could comfort Zion, nor your sympathy, but
God's truth applied by God' Spirit, for this alone can comfort Zion. Oh! blessed
promise! "The Lord will comfort Zion; he will comfort her waste places." He that
made the heavens will become the Comforter of his people. The Holy Ghost, who
brooded over chaos, and brought order out of confusion; the mighty Spirit who
came down at Pentecost in tongues of fire, with a sound like a mighty rushing
wind -- that same blessed Spirit will come to the hearts of the members of his
Church and comfort them. There are sorrows for which there is no solace within
the reach of the creature; there is a ruin which it would baffle any mortal to
retrieve. Happy for us that the Omnipotent comes to our aid. It is "he who
telleth the number of the stars; calleth them all by their names"; who also
"healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds!" Where he is, rolling
the stars along, filling heaven with wonder as he creates majestic orbs, and
keeps them in their pathways, making the comet fling its gorgeous light across
space and startle nations, holding the burning furnace of the sun in the hollow
of his hand; yet he stoops down to minister to a desponding spirit, and to pour
the oil and wine of heavenly comfort into a poor distracted heart! Yes, it is
Zion that is to be comforted, but it is Jehovah himself who has promised to be
her Comforter!And how does the Lord propose to comfort Zion? If you read the
verse through, you will find it is by making her fertile. He will turn her
barren deserts into fruitful gardens, and her unproductive wilderness into a
blooming Eden. The true way to comfort the Church is to build her synagogues,
restore the desolation of former times, to sow her fields, plant her vineyards,
make her soil fruitful, call out the industry of her sons and daughters, and
fill them with lively, ardent zeal. There is an everlasting consolation for the
Church in those grand doctrines of grace revealed to us in covenant, such as
election, particular redemption, effectual calling, final perseverance, and the
faithfulness of God. Resting in his love, God forbid that we should ever keep
back these grand truths; they are the wells of salvation from which we rejoice
to draw the water of life. But there are other truths besides these and we could
not make full proof of our ministry if we overlooked the rain, even the former
and the latter rain, which God gives in due season, or withholds in his
chastening anger. I have often remarked that those persons who are always crying
after the comfort that is to be derived from the stability of God's purpose are
strangely lacking in that present joy and jubilant song which revels in the
goodness of the Lord, who clothes the pastures with flocks, and covers the
valleys over with corn. I have also remarked that the best way to make a
Christian man happy is to make him useful, ploughing the fields which God has
watered, and gathering the fruits which he has ripened. A Christian Church never
enjoys so much concord, love, and happiness as when every member is kept hard at
work for God, every soul upon the stretch of anxiety to do good and communicate,
every disciple a good soldier of the Cross, fighting the common enemy. Thus the
Lord will comfort Zion, and he comforts her by turning her desert into a garden,
and her wilderness into Eden. And oh! my brethren, how happy is the Church when
all the members are active, all the trees bearing fruit; when sinners are
converted, and daily added to the fellowship of the saved; when, instead of the
thorn, there comes up the myrtle, and instead of the briar, there comes up the
fir-tree; when God is turning hard hearts, that were, like rocks, into good
soil, where the corn of the Kingdom may grow. There is no joy like it! If you
can be happy in seeking your own good, without caring for the welfare of others,
I pity you. If a minister can be content to go on preaching without converts or
baptisms, the Lord have mercy upon his miserable soul! Can he be a minister of
Christ who does not win souls? A man might as well be a huntsman and never take
any prey; a fisherman, and always come home with empty nets; a husbandman, and
never reap a harvest! I wonder at some people's complacency. When God never
blesses them, they never fail to bless themselves. "Divine sovereignty withholds
the increase," they say. But it really is their idleness that tends to poverty.
The promise of God is to the diligent, not the indolent. Let Paul plant, and let
Apollos water, God will give the increase. It may not come to-day, nor
to-morrow, nor the next day, but come it must. The Word cannot return unto God
void. It must prosper in the thing whereto he has sent it. Had God sent us on a
listless, bootless errand, we might well complain, but he doth not so. Only let
us preach Jesus Christ with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, and we shall,
doubtless, come again rejoicing, bringing our sheaves with us. Although when we
went forth, we wept because of our inability and our want of confidence, yet
this is the way in which God comforts us.The promise, you will observe, is given
in words that contain an absolute pledge. He shall and he will are terms that
admit of no equivocation. What an emphasis that man of God, the late Joseph
Irons, used to lay on the words when he got hold of a "shall" and a "will" from,
the mouth of the Lord! Though some people say we must not make too much of
little words, I will venture to make as much as ever I can of these two potent
monosyllables. "The Lord shall comfort Zion; the Lord will comfort all her waste
places." How much better and brighter this reads than an "if," or a "but," or a
"perhaps," or a "peradventure"! He shall comfort Zion. Oh! how those dear
saints, the Covenanters, when they were hunted about, and fled into dens and
caves, said, "Ah! but King Jesus will have his own; he shall comfort Zion!" And
our Puritan forefathers, when priests threatened to harry them out of the land,
could see with prophetic eye the time when the harlot church would yet be driven
out, and the true, legitimate children of God would take her place; they could
say, "The Lord shall comfort Zion," and they looked forward to happier halcyon
days. No less did those glorious Albigenses and Waldenses, when they stained the
snows of the Alps with their blood, feel confident that the Church of Rome would
not gain the day, that God would yet return and avenge the blood of his martyred
saints, and give the victory to his true people. And surely you and I may take
comfort too. "The Lord shall comfort Zion; he will comfort her waste places."
Brethren, there are brighter days to come. The day breaketh, and the shadows
flee away! Our hope is in God. Never doubt the true progress of the Church.
Believe that, notwithstanding every discouragement that checks our progress, the
cause of God goes on; it must go on, and it shall go on, till King Jesus is
universally acknowledged King of Kings and Lord of Lords. We have not to serve a
master who cannot take care of his own. To your tents, ye Philistines, when the
God of Israel comes to the battle! Where will ye be? Your ranks are broken; ye
flee like thin clouds before a Biscay gale! When God comes forth he has but by
his Spirit to blow upon his enemies, and they fly before him, like the chaff
before the wind. The Lord shall and the Lord will; who, then, shall disannul it?
Though foes may hoot and fiends may howl, he will keep his word; it shall come
to pass, and he will get to himself renown in fulfilling his own good pleasure.
Having thus enlarged upon the heavenly comfort promised, we proceed to notice
the: -- II. MOURNFUL CASES FAVOURED."He will make her wilderness like Eden, and
her desert like the garden of the Lord. "Now are there not to be found in the
visible Church persons whose character is here vividly depicted? I think there
are three sorts of people in such a case, to all of whom I trust the blessing
will come. There are those who once were fruitful, but are now comparable to
wastes. If God should visit his Church, he will be pleased to comfort the waste
places. Do I not address some who must needs recognise their own portrait? You
used to be church members, and then you did seem to run well; what did hinder
you? You were, apparently, brave soldiers once, but you deserted and went over
to the enemy. Still, if you are the Lord's people, one of the signs of God's
grace to his Church will be the recovery of backsliders. I remember one Monday
afternoon, when we had been waiting upon the Lord in prayer ever since seven
o'clock in the morning, that there came a most remarkable wave of prayer over
the assembly. And then two backsliders got up and prayed, one after the other.
According to their own account, they had been very bad fellows indeed, and had
sorely transgressed against God; but there they were, broken-hearted and fairly
broken down. It was a sight to make angels rejoice as their tears flowed.
Certainly their sobs and cries touched the hearts of all of us who were
assembled. I thought to myself, "Then God is blessing us, for when backsliders
come back it is a proof that God has visited his people." You recollect when it
was that Naomi returned to Israel with Ruth, her daughter-in-law. They never
came back during the time of famine; they stopped in Moab then, but they came
back when they heard that the Lord had visited his people in giving them bread.
Even then Naomi said, "Call me not Naomi." She seemed to come back from her
exile groaning and full of bitterness, and yet she came back because God was
with his people. Backsliders, come back, come now, for God is with his Church,
and he has promised to comfort her waste places. Oh! you who have forgotten your
Lord, remember your first Husband! It was better with you then than now. Though
you have gone astray, yet the Lord saith, "Return, thou backsliding Israel, for
I am married unto you, saith the Lord." You may break the marriage bond with
God, but he will not break it with you. He claims that he is married to you, and
he bids you return to him. I hope that some backslider will be encouraged by
this promise to return, with full purpose of heart, to the God of his salvation.
Then a second department of the promise is, "He will make her wilderness like
Eden." I take the wilderness here to be a place of scanty vegetation. The
Oriental wildernesses are not altogether barren sand, but there is a feeble
herbage which struggles for existence. We are told, you recollect, that "Moses
kept his father's sheep in the wilderness." Oh! how many there are in the Church
of God who are just like that! They are Christians, but sorry Christians they
are. They do love the Lord Jesus Christ, but it is with a moonlight love, cold,
very cold, and chill. They have light, but it is dim and hazy. If they do
anything for Christ, their service is scanty; their contribution mean; their
charity grudging. They bring him no sweet cane with money. They do not fill him
with the fat of their sacrifices, but they make him to serve with their sins,
and they weary him with their iniquities. Ah! dear friend, if thou art indeed a
child of God, then there is this comfort for thee. We will make her wilderness
like Eden. Even you who have borne so little for God shall yet be visited, and
made fruitful when the Lord comforts his people.A third character is implied in
the desert -- the deserted places where no man dwells, where the traveller does
not care to linger :How many professors of religion, how many who attend our
chapels, answer to this description of the soil! They are like deserts. You not
only never did bring forth fruit, but you never concerned yourself to do so. No
man seems to care for you, and you appear to yourselves as though you were like
the sand, which it would be a hopeless task to plough, for the gleaner would
never fill his hand from the produce, much less the reaper his bosom with the
sheaves. Ah! well, but God has a word for these desert souls. He will make her
desert like the garden of the Lord. I pray -- nay, I know -- that during the
gracious season which God has given us we shall see many a desert heart made to
blossom like the rose. These be they whom the Lord will specially transform --
backsliders, scanty Christians, and those who have often heard, but never yet
proved the power of the gospel at all.Ask ye now, what does the Lord say he will
do for them? He says (hear it and marvel!) that he will make the wilderness like
Eden. You know what Eden was. It was the garden of the earth in the days of
primeval purity. Fruit and flower, lofty tree, and lively vegetation abounded
there in profuse luxuriance. I know not how its groves and shrubberies were
tenanted by graceful creatures and lovely birds, but I can well imagine that
every sense of man was regaled by its unfailing charms. No thorns or thistles
cursed the soil, no sweating brow with arduous toll forced the crops from barren
sods. The land laughed with plenty. The river, branching into many heads,
watered the garden. God himself was pleased to water it with the mists, and to
make the fruits grow, to swell in rich abundance, and early come to mature
perfection. So the Lord says that when he visits his Church he will make these
poor backsliders, these immature Christians, these nominal professors, like
Eden. Oh! that the Lord would do it! Oh! that he would make them healthy,
fruitful, prolific in fruitfulness, and spontaneously fruit-bearing, so that we
should almost have need to say, "Hold, Lord!" just as Moses and Aaron did when
the people brought in the offerings for the Tabernacle, until there were more
than enough. Oh! that the Church of Christ may be enriched with all spiritual
gifts, with all heavenly graces, with all that can minister to the welfare of
the saints, to the advantage of the world, and to the glory of him who created
and redeemed us! God grant it may be so!Moreover, as if to strengthen the volume
of his grace and our hope, he says that he will make her desert like the garden
of the Lord. He shall come to you and delight your heart and soul with his
converse. If ever you should be an Eden, you shall be like to Paradise for a yet
higher reason, because your fellowship shall be with the Father and with his
Son, Jesus Christ. There shall be upon you the smell of a field that the Lord
hath blessed. The Lord shall water his Church, shall water it every moment. He
shall make fat our bones, and cause us to be as a watered garden, as a well of
water whose waters fail not. Oh! some of you may well envy those happy days you
once enjoyed! Would you like them back again? Then plead with God the promise of
the text. You were once blessed with nearness to, and communion with, Christ.
You once prayed with fervour, and your souls prospered. Go to God with this
promise and say, "Lord, I am a desert; I am a wilderness; I am a waste place;
but comfort thy Church, and let me partake of the consolation by making me
fruitful in every good word, and work to thy glory!" The Lord will do it, for
the promises of God shall certainly be fulfilled.Who but Jehovah himself can do
this? I have already noted this. "He will make her wilderness like Eden." It is
he only that can perform it. The minister cannot. The Church cannot, with all
her efforts. Talk of getting up a revival! It were insufferable arrogance to
make the attempt. It belongeth not to us to do this. Unto the Lord our God alone
doth this belong. "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the
Lord." If he will but visit his Church, then we shall see the wilderness
rejoice, but if not, we may plough, as is our duty, and we may work upon it, as
is our calling, but there shall be no joy and no rejoicing. We conclude with the
view of: -- III. CERTAIN DESIRABLE RESULTS WHICH ARE PREDICTED."Joy and gladness
shall be found therein; thanksgiving and the voice of melody." You notice the
doubles. The parallelism of Hebrew poetry, perhaps, necessitated them. Still. I
am prone to remember how John Bunyan says that "all the flowers in God's garden
bloom double." We are told of "manifold mercies," that is, mercies which are
folded up one in another, so that you may unwrap them and find a fresh mercy
enclosed in every fold. Here we have "joy and gladness, thanksgiving and the
voice of melody." Just so; the Psalmist tells us of our soul being satisfied
with "marrow and fatness" -- two things. Elsewhere he speaks of "loving-kindness
and tender mercy" -- two things again. The Lord multiplies his grace. He is
always slow to anger, but he is always lavish of his grace. See here, then, God
will give his people an overflowing joy, an inexpressible joy, a sort of double
joy, as though he would give them more joy than they could hold -- joy and then
gladness -- ,thanksgiving and the voice of melody.Oh! what a delightful thing
must a, visitation from God be to his Church! Without God, all she can do is to
groan. Nay, she will not always do that. She sometimes indulges a foolish
conceit, and says, "I am rich and increased in goods, and have need of nothing."
After that will Soon be heard the hooting of dragons and the cry of owls. Let
God visit his Church, and there is sure to be thanksgiving and the voice of
melody. It has been remarked that all revivals of true religion in ancient as
well as modern times have been attended by revival of psalmody and song. The joy
that makes the heart grateful, enlivens the spirits, and diffuses happiness,
will seek and must find some tuneful strains. Not to speak of the Hebrew Psalter
or of the Greek Hymnals, in Luther's day his translation of the Psalms and his
chorales did more, perhaps, to make the Reformation popular than even his
preaching, for the ploughman at his field-labour, and the housewife at the
cradle, would sing one of Luther's Psalms; so, too, in our own country, in
Wycliffe's day, fresh psalms and hymns were scattered all over the land. And you
know how, in the last century, Wesley and Whitefield gave a new impetus to
congregational singing. The hymns were printed on little fly-sheets after each
sermon, and at length these units swelled into a volume. Collections and
selections of hymns were published. So fond, indeed, were the Methodists of
singing, that it became a taunt and a by-word to speak of them as canting
Psalm-singers. But this is the mark of a revived church everywhere. New impetus
is given to the service of song. When the Bridegroom is gone we may well mourn
and fast, and hang our harps on the willows; it is when the Bridegroom cometh
that joy and feasting seek the aid of vocal music, and the people of God break
forth into thanksgiving with the voice of melody. I do fervently hope, beloved,
that we shall have this thanksgiving, and this voice of melody in our midst for
many a day to come! Would God that all the churches enjoyed it! Need I say that
from all parts of the country there are, tokens of it now? We do not desire at
any time a monopoly of blessing. May every Christian denomination and every
Christian community be favoured with the dew of heaven, and have their roots
watered by that river which is full of water. Oh! that all the Churches of
Christ were fruitful! Instead of wishing any of them to be weak, I would say,
with Moses, "Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets," and that the
Lord would put his Spirit upon them! Oh! that Jesus might be extolled from the
uttermost parts of the earth to the highest heavens! Brethren, let us ask God to
fulfil this promise to the Church at large. Let us say to him, "Lord, comfort
thy Zion! She has many waste places -- comfort her! Thou knowest she has many
barren spots -- turn them into gardens of the Lord! Oh! let the heavenly rain
descend, and the divine dew come from thee, that the wilderness and the solitary
place may yet be glad!"But what shall I say to those of you who are not saved?
If you want to become as these gardens of the Lord, it is only the grace of God
which bringeth salvation that can work in you this mighty change. Look to the
Lord. He it is who must do it. He hears prayer. A negro was once sent by his
master on an errand that did not suit him; he did not want to go. So when he
came to a river he turned back, and said, "Master, I came to a river; and I
could not swim across it." "Well, but was there not a ferryboat?" "Yes, there
was a ferry-boat, but the man was on the other side." "Well," said the master,
"did you call to the ferry-man to come and take you across?" No; he did not
think of doing that, for, as he did not wish to go over, he was glad to find an
excuse. Now it is true, sinner, that you cannot save yourself, but there is One
who can. There is a ferry-boat and there is a Ferry-man. Cry to him! Cry to him,
"Master, across this river be pleased to take me; I cannot swim it, but thou
canst bear me over it. Oh! do for me what I cannot do for myself. Make me to be
accepted in the Beloved!" If you seek the Lord, he will be found of you. He
never did set a soul a-seeking but what he meant to bless it. But if you will
not seek, what should be said of you but that on your head should lie your own
blood? I know many of you to be greatly impressed this week. I hope the
impression will not be blown away, like smoke out of a chimney. May God make a
deep work in your souls! Oh! some of you were easily impressed, but you quite as
easily forgot the impression. You are like Ephraim's cake that was baked on one
side; you do not get thoroughly cooked. You do not feel the power of the gospel
permeating your whole nature in every part. You are like a cake not turned, and
God accepts you not because of this. Oh! that there might be a thorough work of
the Spirit in your souls, a work of grace that should bring you to Jesus to be
rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, abounding therein with
thanksgiving. Amen.


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  CHAPTER 23: THE FRUITS OF GRACE
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A Sermon (No.3515) Published on Thursday, June 8th, 1916. Delivered by C. H.
SPURGEON, At [23]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. On Lord's day Evening,
January 21st, 1872. "In that day shall five cities in the land of Egypt speak
the language of Canaan, and swear to the Lord of hosts; one shall be called the
city of destruction. In that day shall there be an altar to the Lord in the
midst of the land of Egypt, and a pillar at the border thereof to the Lord. And
it all be for a sign and for a witness unto the Lord of hosts in the land of
Egypt: for they shall cry unto the Lord because of the oppressors, and he shall
send them a Saviour, and a great one, and he shall deliver them. And the Lord
shall be known to Egypt, and the Egyptians shall know the Lord in that day, and
shall do sacrifice and oblation; yea, they shall vow a vow unto the Lord, and
perform it. And the Lord shall smite Egypt: he shall smite and heal it: and they
shall return even to the Lord, and he shall be intreated of them, and shall heal
them. In that day shall there be a highway out of Egypt to Assyria, and the
Assyrian shall come into Egypt, and the Egyptian into Assyria, and the Egyptians
shall serve with the Assyrians. In that day shall Israel be the third with Egypt
and with Assyria, even blessing in the midst of the land: whom the Lord of hosts
shall bless, saying, Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the, work of my
hands, and Israel mine inheritance." -- Isaiah 19:18-25. THIS is a very
remarkable prophecy. Attempts have been made to explain it, as if it were
already fulfilled. I believe all such attempts to be utter failures. This
promise stands on record to be, fulfilled at some future day In those bright
days for which some of us are looking, when the knowledge of the Lord shall
cover the earth, so the waters cover the sea, then shall this word to Egypt be
verified; yea, and God shall be glorified both by Egypt and Assyria, as well as
in the land of Israel. This ought to be an encouragement to carry on missionary
operations with great vigour. Here is a distinct promise for Assyria and for
Egypt. Let not the missionary be afraid, even if for thousands of years to come
there should be little apparent success to the preaching of the gospel. If the
Lord should tarry another six thousand years, ay, sixty thousand years -- and he
may -- we are still to go on working, and still to go on labouring, looking for
his coming, and expecting it, but not relaxing our efforts because he pleases to
delay it, for the Lord has sworn that all flesh shall know his glory, and you
may depend upon it, there is no spot of earth that shall be left to be Satan's
dominion. It shall be conquered for Christ, and in truth he shall "see of the
travail of his soul, and he shall be satisfied." It is most encouraging to find
Egypt mentioned. You find it in one of the Psalms, "Princes shall come out of
Egypt, and they shall come out of Ethiopia." Now this I believe to be the
litera1 meaning of the passage. You must understand that the prophecy was given
to the people of Israel, and it was given to them, as it were, to children that
were using types and figures. It speaks in their language. Hence it speaks of
altars, and pillars, and oblations, all of which are to be understood now in the
spiritual sense. The Church of God has come to her manhood, in which she has
done with material altars and material oblations, seeing that she has Christ to
be her only altar, her only priest, and prayer and praise to be the spiritual
oblation which she shall bring. I understand the prophecy to be, in brief, just
this. In the latter day, Egypt will be converted, and Assyria too, and wonders
of grace will be performed in that land, and the people of the land shall with
delight worship the Most High. Having said this, I am now going to use the text
for another purpose. Here is a wonderful display of the grace of God in this
promise to Egypt. I see the very heart of God revealed. I see a display of what
God will do, not to Egypt only, but to others also, and though we have much to
say, we will try to open up, in as few particulars as we can make them, the
display of grace which God gives among the sons of men. We begin thus: -- I. THE
GRACE OF GOD OFTEN COMES TO THE VERY WORST OF MEN. It is promised to Egypt. Now
Egypt was the nation which was the type of God's enemies. It was over Egypt that
he triumphed at the Red Sea, when Pharaoh said, "Who is the Lord?" and we regard
Egypt as always being typical of the enemies of God -- the peculiar and chief
enemies. Yet the grace of God is to come to Egypt. And so will it come often to
the worst enemies that God has. Saul of Tarsus, foaming at the mouth with rage
against the Christ of God, was met and conquered by eternal love, and his heart
was renewed, and he was made an apostle. And oftentimes since then, electing
love has chosen those that were most furious against Christ, and the power of
the Holy Spirit has come upon them, and turned the lions into lambs, and made
them lie down at the feet of the Saviour. Let us have hope for the worst of men,
and let the worst of men have hope for themselves under the gospel of Jesus
Christ. The Egyptians were a peculiarly debased people as to their idolatry. If
you go into the British Museum you will still see the cats, the crocodiles, the
scarlet ibis, which they were accustomed to worship. Besides that, it was one of
the sarcasms of the Roman poets that the Egyptians worshipped gods which they
grew in their own gardens. They had the sacred beetle, the sacred mouse, and I
know not what. And yet, degraded as they were by idolatry, the grace of God was
to come to them. And men may have gone far into superstition; they may have
debased even their own intellect by what they have tried to believe, and forced
themselves down into the very deeps of superstition, and yet, for all that, the
grace of God can come to them and lift them up. And the Egyptian were degraded
politically too, for we read in one passage of the prophets that Egypt shall be
the basest of all nations; and yet, though the basest of nations in that
respect, the grace of God shall coma to them. Oh! how wondrous is the
sovereignty of God! The devil cannot dye a soul so scarlet in sin but what the
blood of Christ can make it white as snow. Satan cannot drive a chosen sheep of
Christ so far on the mountains of vanity, or into the deserts of sin, but what
the great Shepherd of the sheep can find that sheep, and bring it back again.
There is hope for the mart sunken. There is hope for those that grovel, and that
sink in the mire The infinite compassion of God can reach them, and the eternal
power of God can lift them up.But there is one singular note in the text, that
one of the cities in that land of Egypt (if I read the text aright) that was to
be saved was called the City of Destruction. It had come to be named by that
name, and yet, think of that, God looked upon it with mercy. Now there are in
villages, and there are in towns, and certainly there are in London, men that
have become so notorious for every sort of vice and sin that they are only known
as the devil's own servants; and if anybody in the place were to speak of them,
it would be with no question about the horrible condition of their minds and the
state of their character. And yet in how many cases has the Lord been pleased to
make such beings, new men in Christ Jesus! I have some in my mind's eye now, who
have been to me a source of unutterable joy, whose characters were known, and
certainly not admired. They were the dread of all with whom they dwelt. I
remember one whose fist had many a time laid low his adversary, and whose oaths,
and cursings, and songs at midnight often made the village tremble when he was
filled with drink. But what a humble child he became when at last the gospel
brought him down! How changed and how quiet was his manner when Jesus Christ had
renewed his soul -- something like John Bunyan with his drink and his Sabbath
breakings -- but what a saint was he when bowed at his Saviour's feet, he found
his sins forgiven! We must not say, "Our children are hopeful, and God will save
them, but we cannot expect him to look upon the fallen and degraded." Ah! if, is
Pharisaism that would make us speak so. The gospel has found some of its
brightest jewels in the lowest haunts of vice. Bear it, bear it into the caves
of darkness, where the blackness seems to be palpable, and to hang like the
glooms of death -- bear ye aloft the everlasting torch, which the divine Lord
himself has kindled, and you shall discover by its light some precious blood --
redeemed ones, who shall be to the praise of the glory of his grace. "One shall
be called the City of Destruction, but thus saith the Lord, I have delivered it,
I will save it, for my name's sake."Now this ought to be very encouraging to
every hearer present, for where there is mercy proclaimed to the chief of
sinners, there is encouragement to every form of sinner to come humbly to the
heavenly Father, and plead the precious blood of Jesus, and obtain life and
peace. God grant we may be led there for his name's sake! But now the second
observation is that grace is displayed in our text from the fact that: -- II.
GOD'S GRACE SENDS A SAVIOUR.Note, too, that he adds this word, "A GREAT ONE, and
he shall deliver them." Beloved friends, you know, all of you, what I have to
say, but yet, though you know it, I know no story ever make score glad your
spirit than the old, old story of the Saviour. He that has same to save us is
Jesus, the Son of God; to save us from every stain of sin; to save us from our
propensity to sin, from the power of our habits, and from the snares of Satan.
He has come to save us from the death eternal, to save us from the wrath to
come. God has sent us a Saviour. We could not have saved ourselves, but one has
come who can. The text says that Saviour is a great one. Oh! I wanted a great
Saviour. A little Saviour would not have answered my turn, for great sin wanted
a great atonement, and my hard heart wanted great grace to soften it down. Now
he that came to save us was God himself -- Jesus -- nothing less than God --
counting it not robbery to be equal with God. He is great in his nature, for as
God he is infinite -- omnipotent. He is great also in what he has done. Look to
him on the cross; it is the Son of God pouring out his life for sinners that
they may live through his death. There most be great merit in such a sacrifice.
I never dare believe in any limited merit in Christ. He who gave himself there
upon the cross, being very God of very God, though certainly man -- there can be
no limit set to the value of the atonement which he made. Oh! beloved, it is a
great Saviour that God gives. And now that he has risen from the dead, he stands
before God to plead for us, and it is no little plea -- no plea which might be
put back or put off. With authority he pleads before his Father's throne, points
to his own wounds, and the Father's heart always yields to the Son's
intercession. You have a great Saviour, for he is a great pleader. And, besides
that, all power is in his hands; the keys of death and hell are at his girdle,
and the government shall be upon his shoulders, and his name shall be called
Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God. Oh! what a Saviour we have! Dare we doubt
him? When we cast ourselves upon him, is there not an end to all our fears, for
Jesus is mighty to save, And what a word that is in the text?"a Saviour and a
great one, and he shall deliver them"! God did not send Christ at a haphazard.
Jesus did not come here to save those who might perchance be saved -- to make
men salvable, but he will save all he came to save. Those on whom he fixed his
eye of everlasting love, for whom the precious drops were shed -- these he will,
by the power of his arm, pluck from the jaws of the lion, because, with the
blood of his heart he had redeemed them. "He shall deliver them." Oh! you that
trust in Jesus, lay this word home. May the Spirit of God lay it home to you. He
shall deliver them from all temptation, from all trial, from all affliction,
from death itself. "He shall deliver them."Now put the two points together. We
have mentioned that the grace of God comes to the greatest of sinners, and it
brings to them a Saviour, and a great one, and I have laid open to you something
of the heart of God in the greatness of his compassion. But we must pass on.
Where the grace of God comes, it seems from the text that: -- III. IT CHANGES
MEN'S LANGUAGE.Turn to the 18th verse. "In that day shall five cities in the
land of Egypt speak the language of Canaan" -- the spiritual meaning of which is
that the grace of God shall make men speak that holy and pure language which is
the mark of a child of God. O dear hearer, if the grace of God ever meets with
you, your friends will know it -- every one -- by your conversation. That man
could not speak without an oath; there will be no oath now. When he did speak,
it was in a proud, boastful, hectoring way about himself. Ah! you will hardly
know him to be the same man; for he will speak so humbly and so gently, and when
he comes to speak about himself he will have the tears in his eyes to think of
what he used to be, and what the grace of God has done for him now. Then his
language would be lascivious and unclean at times, but now he desires not even
to hear of such things, much less to mention them; for it is a shame for a
Christian to speak of the things which are done by many in secret. The grace of
God soon rinses out a man's mouth. His wife knows it; his children know it; his
workfolk know it; and though some of them will think him a fool to speak after
the way in which he now does though he does not imitate the language of
Christians, and is not a cant, yet there is something about his very brogue and
talk that might make men say, "Thou also west with Jesus of Nazareth, for thy
speech betrayeth thee." Oh! would not it be a mercy if God would change the
speech of some in London! Even our boys in the streets sometimes talk in a way
that is enough to make your blood chill. Foul words are very common in our
streets and elsewhere. O sovereign grace, come and visit these, and they shall
speak no longer the language of Babylon and the language of Belial, but they
shall speak the language of Canaan, for God shall give them a pure language.
When you hear men that once could curse begin to pray, when those who were given
to blasphemies begin to pray, and when, instead of hearing the noise of strife
in the working-man's house, you hear the song of praise, then is fulfilled the
saying that is written, "In that day shall five cities speak the language of
Canaan. and swear to the Lord of Hosts." But I must pass on. Where the grace of
God comes: -- IV. IT SETS MEN ON HOLY SERVICE."There shall be an altar to the
Lord in the midst of the land of :Egypt, and a pillar at the border thereof to
the Lord. "When a man is in sin he worships himself, or he serves his pleasure
and Satan; but when the grace of God comes, the man begins at once to serve God,
and becomes God's servant. I am sure I know houses now that have an altar to God
in them -- the family altar -- where you would not have thought such a thing
could ever have been. I know some, too, that will this very day give of their
substance to God, who two or three years ago would have scorned the act. They
would have said it was a waste of money altogether to give anything to the cause
of the Most High. There are some teaching at the Sabbath school, and spending
the day of rest in, perhaps, the hardest toil of the week, and doing it very
cheerfully too, who once would have laughed to scorn any proposal that they
should have done any such thing. But the Lord, when he gets men's hearts, and
washes away their sins, takes them into his service, and males those who were
most ready to serve Satan become most willing to serve him. Is not this true --
I appeal to many here present -- is it not your delight now to do all you can
for the Lord Jesus Christ? Perhaps, however, while you say "Yes," you also add,
"But I do not do half as much as I should, nor as I ought. "You feel precisely
as I also felt -- and I must make the same confession as yourself. But, brothers
and sisters, do not let it end in confession. Let us wake up and do more; for
the love that saved us, the love that bought us at such a price, ought not to be
recompensed so poorly as it has been. And let us pray for the grace of God, that
we may ever have an altar in our own hearts, and be ourselves the sacrifice --
that our whole life may be a life of consecration to the living God. Oh! that
our common dress might be as priestly vestment, and our ordinary meals as
sacraments, and ourselves as priests unto the living God; our whole life a
psalm, and our whole being a hallelujah to the Most High! Where the grace of God
comes with power, it makes the worst of men become the boss, and the lowest of
the low become true servants of the living God. "Can it be?" says one; "can I
ever be a servant of God" Ah! yes: hark to the song of heaven! "We have washed
our robes" -- then they needed washing -- "and made them white in the blood of
the Lamb, Glory be to him who hath made us kings and priests unto our God." The
next display of divine grace in the text is to be seen in this, that where the
grace of God comes: -- V. IT TEACHES MEN TO PRAY.We read in the 20th verse,
"They shall cry unto the Lord because of oppressors." This is a kind of prayer
that only God can teach us. You can easily learn to say a form of prayer, or to
read one from a book, but a prayer that can fairly be called a cry is the fruit
of grace. The cry is the natural expression of distress. There is no hypocrisy
in a cry. When one is sore sick and ready to die, and cries out in anguish, it
is the genuine expression of an oppressed spirit. And God always teaches his
children to pray such prayers an those. And oh! how sweetly will saved souls
pray next to the songs of angels, I think the prayers of new converts are among
the sweetest things that ever reach our ears. When we have been a long time
professors, we are very apt to get into a sort of stilted mode of talking to God
in prayer, and men that have more gifts than graces will spend the time in
words, words, words. But oh! how has my heart leaped when I have heard a cry,
such as "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" when some soul, ready to burst with
fear of the wrath to come, has cried out, "Jesus, Lord, have mercy upon me!" or
when some heart that has just found Jesus has praised and magnified the
exceeding mercy that has put away its sin. Christ can teach the blasphemer to
pray; he can take the profane into his school, and teach them all to cry, and
what all the clergy and ministry in the land could not do, namely, teach a man
to pray one sincere prayer, God the Holy Ghost can do to the very offscouring
and the scum of the universe, when once he comes to deal with them in the way of
grace. Wonders of grace to God belong. He that teaches us to pray will teach us
to praise him in heaven. The soul that lisps out its desires sincerely to God
shall one day sing with cherubim and seraphim before the eternal throne. But I
must hasten on. Where grace comes: -- VI. IT INSTRUCTS MEN.We learn this from
the next verse, "And the Lord shall be known in Egypt, and the Egyptians shall
know the Lord in that day." It is a very serious evil with many hearers that
they are altogether ignorant of the things of God; but it is delightful to
observe how sweetly the Holy Spirit can teach. I have spoken lately with some
whom God has called by his grace during the past few weeks, and I have been
surprised that, although they had never been Bible readers, nor received any
religious instruction in their youth, when the grace of God showed them their
sin, he did it thoroughly, and when he showed them the Saviour, he did it in a
wondrous way, so that when they came to read the Bible it was not difficult to
them to understand it, nor to lay hold upon it with delight, and some have
become well instructed in the things of the kingdom in a very short time indeed.
There is no teacher like the Holy Spirit! "All thy children shall be taught of
the Lord," and when he teaches they are taught indeed. What boots it to a man to
know all earthly knowledge if he knows not his God? But where grace comes, the
man is no longer a stranger to the Lord; he knows the Father, the Son, the
Spirit. He must know the Father, for he has become a child. He must know the
Son, for he is his only confidence. He must know the Spirit, for it is the
Spirit that dwelleth in him, and hath renewed him. Oh! that God would be pleaded
to-night to take some fresh scholars into his school! Don't say, "I am poor and
illiterate." What matters that? With the Lord to teach you, you will make an apt
scholar. We can only teach your ears; he can teach your hearts. We can only
write the copy in a book, but he can write it on the fleshy tablets of your
souls. Never despair of being instructed in the things of heaven. The Lord can
graciously instruct you, and if he leads you to-night to receive the Saviour --
the great one -- he will begin the divine teaching which will end in your being
complete in Christ, and your entering into his glory. I want you to notice a
little more. Where the grace of God comes into a man's heart: -- VII. IT MAKES
EVEN TROUBLE A BLESSING TO HIMRead the 22nd verse. "The Lord shall smite Egypt"
-- there is the trouble-"he shall smite" -- there is the trouble again-"and heal
it" -- there is the mercy -- "and they shall return even to the Lord, and he
shall be intreated of them, and shall heal them." An ungodly man when he is in
trouble, has nothing whatever to sustain him, and no good comes out of the
trouble. But get the heart renewed, and let the man receive the Saviour, and
perhaps the greatest mercies he has are those which are blessings in disguise. I
read a story the other day -- an incident which happened to a City Missionary.
He was preaching one night out in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and there was a man --
an extremely aged man, who had lost his wife, and lived in a garret alone. He
had scarcely a rag upon him and was nearly starved, and he was going out to
commit suicide, but, moved by curiosity, he listened to the preaching of the
gospel, and it saved his soul. It turned out that he had once been worth
£100,000, and had been a distinguished merchant, but had lost his all in a
foolish speculation, and had come down from the heights of riches to the lowest
poverty, and at an extreme age he found Christ. The missionary found him friends
who kept him with about enough to keep body and soul together -- a humble crust
in a very lowly, solitary room -- but he used to say that now he had found the
Lord; but he might never have found him if he had not lost all his wealth, and
he looked upon it as the greatest blessing that had ever occurred to him, that
he was brought to such beggary, that he was able and willing to stand in the
street to listen to a sermon; for he said that in his riches he had despised the
gospel, and had been altogether an atheist and an unbeliever but now, when
brought to the lowest, Christ had found him, and he had more happiness with his
cross than he had with his wealth. Oh! get the grace of God in your heart, and
then broken limbs will be a bleeding. That long depression of trade that brought
you oft low will appear a very different thing now. Your lot is very lowly now
perhaps, and your toils severe, but God's grace will gild all these dark things
in such a way that you shall even learn to glory in tribulation also, and bless
the Lord that he did not leave you to be a stranger to him, but made you his
child and, therefore, made you feel his rod for what son is there whom his
father chasteneth not? Beloved, what a blessing it is to have the grace of God,
seeing it turns adverse circumstances into true prosperity and makes our losses
to be our lasting gains! One other reflection, and that is this concerning the
grace of God: -- VIII. IT CHANGES THE RELATIONS OF MEN ONE TO ANOTHER.Read the
23rd verse. "In that day there shall be a highway out of Egypt to Assyria, and
the Assyrian shall come into Egypt, and the Egyptian into Assyria, and the
Egyptians shall serve with the Assyrians." Now the Egyptians and the Assyrians
were enemies to one another; they were always fighting. There was a bloody feud
and war between them century after century; but when the grace of God shall
visit them both, there shall be no more fighting; the Egyptian shall go and
visit the Assyrian, and the Assyrian shall visit the Egyptian. Have you never
met with a case? Two brothers were at enmity, and would not speak to each other.
One of them was saved by grace, and he thought, "Oh! if my brother John might be
converted!" He wanted to fall into his brother's arms and make it all up, and be
friends again. Meanwhile, brother John had heard the gospel somewhere else, and
his soul had been saved, and he goes to find out the other brother, and all are
reconciled, and the families that had been at a distance are knit together in
love. Oh! the gospel soon breaks down barriers. I won't give a penny for your
religion if you are at enmity with anybody -- if you can say of anyone of your
kith and kin, "I will never speak to them again." Mind, in that day when you
appear before God, how can you expect mercy? Well, now, genuine grace makes us
forgive as we have been forgiven, and it establishes intercommunications between
those who had long been enemies to one another. Should there happen to be in
this place at this time any that have long been at variance, I believe that
there is no way of establishing a lasting love between you like your both loving
Jesus Christ. If you cannot meet anywhere else, you are sure to meet if you come
to the cross. A common Saviour will hind you together. Bought with the same
blood, and filled with tile same divine life, you will become members of the
same mystical body; you cannot help loving each other. Oh! that God would put an
end in the world to all wars between nations, as well as all strifes between
individuals. It won't come about by trade, nor yet be politics, nor by anything
of man's devising; but if the gospel spreads, if God converts Egypt and converts
Assyria, then Egypt will not desire war with Asia, nor Assyria with Egypt, but
they shall be one in Christ Jesus the Lord. Wonders of grace! wonders of grace,
that those that hated should love, and enemies should become friends. We will
close with these last words. Where the grace of God comes: -- IX. IT MAKES MEN
TO BE BLESSED, AND TO BE A BLESSING.You will find that affirmed in the last two
verses. "They shall be a blessing in the midst of the land, and it shall be
said, Blessed be Egypt, my people." The man that was accursed before, and was a
curse, becomes blessed, and is a blessing. I will not enlarge upon it, but I
will say this to you, the members of the church. It has delighted me to find the
many earnest hearts there are here that are trying, to do good, some in one way,
and some in another. I would in every case, if my encouragement were worth your
having, give it you very heartily. But, beloved, if I do not know of it, and if
no one knows of it but yourself and God, go on, go on. It is God's work to save
souls, and you are workers together with him. Oh! this city wants you -- wants
ten thousand earnest spirits. The lodging-houses want you; the alleys and the
courts want you; the poor want you; the rich want you. If you have anything to
say of the remedy which wisdom has prepared for the remedy of sins disease, the
millions want it. They won't come to hear the gospel presaged, take it to their
houses, carry it to their doors. If they reject a Saviour, let it not he for
want of your hunting after them. Push it in their way. Sow beside all waters. In
season and out of season teach ye the Word. Ye know not where God may bless you.
But never be discouraged because of the badness of the neighbourhood, or the
lowness of the character of the people. If Egypt shall be saved, have faith for
this Egypt. If Assyria shall be saved, have confidence in God for those who are
often worse than heathens, and you shall have your reward in that day when he of
the pierced hand shall distribute crowns to those who faithfully serve him.
Rewards, not of debt, but of grace, shall be given to the most obscure and
unknown of you, who for his sake have sought to teach little children or to
reclaim the adult who had fallen into sin. Take courage -- your work of faith
and labour of love are not in vain in the Lord, and will do wonders yet to the
praise of his grace. And as to you that are not saved. I have been saying great
things of encouragement to you. I don't know who may take hold of them, but if
there were one here who should reckon himself to be quite out of hope, it is to
that man I spoke; and if there is a man here who says. "You don't mean me; you
don't know my character," I will suppose it to be the worst character that was
ever heard of -- I meant you. He is "able to save unto the uttermost than that
come unto God by him." "All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto
men." Seek ye the Lord! Confess your sins to him. Weep out your confession with
your head on your Father's bosom and say, "Forgive me, forgive me for thy Son's
sake," and it shall be done unto you. God grant it may be done, even now: for
his name's sake! Amen.


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  CHAPTER 24: THE SUM AND SUBSTANCE OF ALL THEOLOGY
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Unpublished Notes of a Sermon Intended for Reading on Lord's-Day, April 17th,
1892, Delivered by C. H. SPURGEON, Delivered at Bethesda Chapel, Swansea On June
25th, 1861. From Sword and Trowel Note: On Tuesday, June 25th, 1861, the beloved
C. H. Spurgeon visited Swansea. The day was wet, so the services could not be
held in the open-air; and, as no building in the town was large enough to hold
the vast concourses of people who had come from all parts to hear the renowned
preacher, he consented to deliver two discourses in the morning; first at
Bethesda, and then at Trinity Chapel. At each place he preached for an hour and
a quarter. The weather cleared up during the day; so, in the evening, Mr.
Spurgeon addressed an immense gathering of people in the open-air. -- T.W.M.
FORWARDED BY PASTOR T. W. MEDHURST, CARDIFF. "All that the Father giveth Me
shall come to Me; and him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out." -- John
6:37. What a difference there is between the words of Christ, and those of all
mere men! Most men speak many words, yet say but little; Christ speaks few
words, yet says very much. In modern books, you may read scores of pages, and
scarcely come across a new thought; but when Christ speaks, every syllable seems
to tell. He hits the nail on the head each time He lifts the hammer of His Word.
The Words of Christ are like ingots of solid gold; we preachers too often beat
out the gold so thin, that whole acres of it would scarcely be worth a farthing.
The Words of Christ are always to be distinguished from those of His creatures,
not only for their absolute truthfulness, but also for their profound fulness of
matter. In all His language He is "full of grace and truth." Look at the text
before us. Here we have, in two small sentences, the sum and substance of all
theology. The great questions which have divided the Church in all ages, the
apparently contradictory doctrines which have set one minister of Christ against
his fellow, are here revealed so simply and plainly, "that he may run that
readeth" (Habakkuk ii.2). Even a child may understand the Words of Christ,
though perhaps the loftiest human intellect cannot fathom the mystery hidden
therein. Take the first sentence of my text: "All that the Father giveth Me
shall come to Me." What a weighty sentence! Here we have taught us what is
called, in the present day, "High Calvinistic doctrine" -- the purpose of God;
the certainty that God's purpose will stand; the invincibility of God's will;
and the absolute assurance that Christ "shall see of the travail of His soul,
and shall be satisfied."Look at the second sentence of my text: "And him that
cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." Here we have the richness, the
fulness, the unlimited extent of the power of Christ to save those who put their
trust in Him. Here is a text upon which one might preach a thousand sermons. We
might take these two sentences as a life-long text, and never exhaust the
theme.Mark, too, how our Lord Jesus Christ gives us the whole truth. We have
many ministers who can preach well upon the first sentence: "All that the Father
giveth Me shall come to Me." Just set them going upon Election, or everlasting
covenant engagements, and they will be earnest and eloquent, for they are fond
of dwelling upon these points, and a well-instructed child of God can hear them
with delight and profit. Such preachers are often the fathers of the Church, and
the very pillars thereof; but, unfortunately, many of these excellent brethren
cannot preach so well upon the second sentence of my text: "And him that cometh
to Me I will in no wise cast out." When they get to that truth, they are half
afraid of it; they hesitate to preach what they consider to be a too open
salvation. They cannot give the gospel invitation as freely as they find it in
the Word of God. They do not deny it, yet they stutter and stammer sadly, when
they get upon this theme.Then, on the other hand, we have a large number of good
ministers who can preach on this second clause of the text, but they cannot
preach on the first clause. How fluent is their language as they tell out the
freeness of salvation! Here they are much at home in their preaching; but, we
are sorry to be compelled to say that, very often, they are not much at home
when they come to doctrinal matters, and they would find it rather a difficult
matter to preach fluently on the first sentence of my text. They would, if they
attempted to preach from it, endeavour to cut out of it all that savours of
Divine Sovereignty. They do not preach the whole "truth" which "is in Jesus."Why
is it that some of us do not see both sides of God's revealed truth? We persist
in closing one eye; we will not see all that may be seen if we open both our
eyes; and, sometimes, we get angry with a brother because he can see a little
more than we do. I think our text is very much like a stereoscopic picture, for
it presents two views of the truth. Both views are correct, for they are both
photographed by the same light. How can we bring these two truths together? We
get the stereoscope of the scripture, and looking with both eyes, the two
pictures melt into one. God has given us, in His Word, the two pictures of
divine truth; but we have not all got the stereoscope properly adjusted to make
them melt into one. When we get to heaven, we shall see how all God's truth
harmonizes. If we cannot make these two parts of truth harmonize now, at any
rate we must not dare to blot out one of them, for God has given them both.Now,
as God shall help me this morning, I want to expand both sentences of my text
with equal fidelity and plainness. I shall not expect to please some of you
while speaking on the first sentence, and I shall not be surprised if I fail to
please others of you when I come to the second sentence; but, in ether case, it
will be a small matter to me if I have an easy conscience because I have
proclaimed what I believe to be the whole truth of God. I am sure you will be
willing to give a patient hearing to that which you may not fully receive, if
you believe it to be declared in all honesty. Reject what I say, if it be not
true, but if it be the Word of God, receive it; and, be it known unto you that
it is at your peril if you dare to reject the truthful Word of the glad tidings
of God.I. I will begin with the first sentence of the text: "All that the Father
giveth Me shall come to Me." We have here, first, THE FIRM FOUNDATION UPON WHICH
OUR SALVATION RESTS.It rests, you perceive, not on something which man does, but
on something which God the Father does. The Father gives certain persons to His
Son, and the Son says, "All that the Father giveth Me Shall come to Me." I take
it that the meaning of the text is this, -- that, if any do come to Jesus
Christ, it is those whom the Father gave to Christ. And the reason why they
come, -- if we search to the very bottom of things, -- is, that the Father puts
it into their hearts to come. The reason why one man is saved, and another man
is lost, is to be found in God; not in anything which the saved man did, or did
not do; not in anything which he felt, or did not feel; but in something
altogether irrespective of himself, even in the sovereign grace of God. In the
day of God's power, the saved are made willing to give their souls to Jesus. The
language of Scripture must explain this point. "As many as received Him, to them
gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name:
which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of
man, but of God" (John i.12, 13). "So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of
him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy" (Romans ix.16). If you want to
see the fount of grace, you must go to the everlasting God; even as, if you want
to know why that river runs in this direction, and not in that, you must trace
it up to its source. In the case of every soul that is now in heaven, it was the
will of God that drew it thither. In the case of every spirit that is on its way
to glory now, unto God and unto Him alone must be the honour of its salvation;
for He it is who makes one "differ from another" (1 Cor. iv.7). I do not care to
argue upon this point, except I put it thus: If any say, "It is man himself who
makes the difference," I reply, "You are involving yourself in a great dilemma;
if man himself makes the difference, then mark -- man himself must have the
glory." Now, I am certain you do not mean to give man the glory of his own
salvation; you would not have men throw up their caps in heaven, and shout,
"Unto ourselves be the glory, for we, ourselves, were the hinge and turning
point of our own salvation." No, you would have all the saved cast their crowns
at the feet of Jesus, and give to Him alone all the honour and all the glory.
This, however, cannot be, unless, in that critical point, that diamond hinge
upon which man's salvation shall turn, God shall have the control, and not the
will of man. You know that those who do not believe this truth as a matter of
doctrine, do believe it in their hearts as a matter of experience.I was
preaching, not very long ago, at a place in Derbyshire, to a congregation,
nearly all of whom were Methodists, and as I preached, they were crying out,
"Hallelujah! Glory! Bless the Lord!." They were full of excitement, until I went
on to say in my sermon, "This brings me to the doctrine of Election." There was
no crying out of "Glory!" and "Hallelujah!" then. Instead, there was a great
deal of shaking of the head, and a sort of telegraphing round the place, as
though something dreadful was coming. Now, I thought, I must have their
attention again, so I said, "You all believe in the doctrine of Election?" "No,
we don't, lad," said one. "Yes, you do, and I am going to preach it to you, and
make you cry 'Hallelujah!' over it." I am certain they mistrusted my power to do
that; so, turning a moment from the subject, I said, "Is there any difference
between you and the ungodly world?" "Ay! Ay! Ay!" "Is there any difference
between you and the drunkard, the harlot, the blasphemer?" "Ay! Ay! Ay!" Ay!
there was a difference indeed. "Well, now," I said, "there is a great
difference; who made it, then?" for, whoever made the difference, should have
the glory of it. "Did you make the difference?" "No, lad," said one; and the
rest all seemed to join in the chorus. "Who made the difference, then? Why, the
Lord did it; and did you think it wrong for Him to make a difference between you
and other men?" "No, no," they quickly said. "Very well, then; if it was not
wrong for God to make the difference, it was not wrong for Him to purpose to
make it, and that is the doctrine of Election." Then they cried, "Hallelujah!"
as I said they would.The doctrine of Election is God's purposing in His heart
that He would make some men better than other men; that He would give to some
men more grace than to other men; that some should come out and receive the
mercy; that others, left to their own free will, should reject it; that some
should gladly accept the invitations of mercy, while others, of their own
accord, stubbornly refuse the mercy to which the whole world of mankind is
invited. All men, by nature, refuse the invitations of the gospel. God, in the
sovereignty of His grace, makes a difference by secretly inclining the hearts of
some men, by the power of His Holy Spirit, to partake of His everlasting mercy
in Christ Jesus. I am certain that, whether we are Calvinists or Arminians, if
our hearts are right with God, we shall all adoringly testify: "We love Him,
because He first loved us." If that be not Election, I know not what it is.II.
Now, in the second place, note THE CERTAINTY OF THE ETERNAL SALVATION OF ALL WHO
WERE GIVEN TO JESUS; "All that the Father giveth Me shall come to Me."This is
eternally settled, and so settled that it cannot be altered by either man or
devil. All whose names are written in the Book of Life of the Lamb slain from
the foundation of the world, all whom God the Father designed to save when He
gave up His well-beloved Son to die upon the cross of Calvary, shall in time be
drawn by the Holy Spirit, and shall surely come to Christ, and be kept by the
Spirit, through the precious blood of Christ, and be folded for ever with His
sheep, on the hill-tops of glory.Mark! "All that the Father giveth Me shall come
to Me." Not one of those whom the Father hath given to Jesus shall perish. If
any were lost, the text would have to read: "Almost all," or, "All but one;" but
it positively says "All," without any exception; even though one may have been,
in his unregenerate state, the very chief of sinners. Yet even that chosen one,
that given one, shall come to Jesus; and when he has come, he shall be held by
that strong love that at first chose him, and he shall never be let go, but
shall be held fast, even unto the end. Miss Much-afraid, and Mrs. Despondency,
and Mr. Feeble-mind, shall as certainly come to the arms of Christ, as Mr.
Great-heart, and Mr. Faithful, and Mr. Valiant-for-Truth. If one jewel were lost
from Christ's crown, then Christ's crown would not be all-glorious. If one
member of the body of Christ were to perish, Christ's body would not be
complete. If one of those who are one with Christ should miss his way to eternal
life, Christ would not be a perfect Christ. "All that the Father giveth Me Shall
come to Me." "But suppose they will not come?" I cannot suppose any such thing,
for He says they "shall come." They shall be made willing in the day of God's
power. God knows how to make a passage through the heart of man; and though man
is a free agent, yet God can incline him, willingly, to come to Jesus. There are
many sentences even in Wesley's hymn-book which contain this truth. If God took
away freedom from man, and then saved him, it would be but a small miracle. For
God to leave man free to come to Jesus, and yet to so move him as to make him
come, is a divinely-wrought miracle indeed. If we were for a moment to admit
that man's will could be more than a match for God's will, do you not see where
we should be landed? Who made man? God! Who made God? Shall we lift up man to
the sovereign throne of Deity? Who shall be master, and have his way, God or
man? The will of God, that says they "shall come", knows how to make them
come."But suppose it should be one of those who are living in the interior of
Africa, and he does not hear the gospel; what then?" He shall hear the gospel;
either he shall come to the gospel, or the gospel shall go to him. Even if no
minister should go to such a chosen one, he would have the gospel specially
revealed to him rather than that the promise of the Almighty God should be
broken."But suppose there should be one of God's chosen who has become so bad
that there is no hope for him? He never attends a place of worship; never
listens to the gospel; the voice of the preacher never reaches him; he has grown
hardened in his sin, like steel that has been seven times annealed in the fire;
what then?" That man shall be arrested by God's grace, and that obdurate,
hard-hearted one shall be made to see the mercy of God; the tears shall stream
down his cheeks, and he shall be made willing to receive Jesus as Saviour. I
think that, as God could bend my will, and bring me to Christ, He can bring
anybody."Why was I made to hear His voice,And enter while there's room;When
thousands make a wretched choice,And rather starve than come?"'Twas the same
love the spread the feast,That sweetly forced me in;Else I had still refused to
taste,And perish'd in my sin."Yes, "sweetly forced me in;" -- there is no other
word that can so accurately describe my case. Oh, how long Jesus Christ stood at
the door of my heart, and knocked, and knocked, and knocked in vain! I asked:
"Why should I leave the pleasures of this world?" Yet still He knocked, and
there was music in every sound of His pleading voice; but I said, "Nay, let Him
go elsewhere." And though, through the window, I could see His thorn-crowned
head, and the tears standing in His eyes, and the prints of the nails in His
hands, as He stood and knocked, and said, "Open to Me," yet I heeded Him not.
Then He sent my mother to me, and she pleaded, "let the Saviour in, Charlie;"
and I replied, in action, though not in words, "Nay, I love thee, my mother; but
I do not love Christ, thy Saviour." Then came the black hours of sickness; but
in effect I said, "Nay, I fear not sickness, nor death itself; I will still defy
my Maker." But it happened, one day, that He graciously put in His hand by the
hole of the door, and I moved toward Him, and then I opened the door, and cried,
"Come in! Come in!" Alas! alas! He was gone; and for five long years I stood,
with tears in mine eyes, and I sought Him weeping, but I found Him not. I cried
after Him, but He answered me not. I said, "Whither is He gone? Oh, that I had
never rejected Him? Oh, that He would but come again!" Surely the angels must
then have said, "A great change has come over that youth; he would not let
Christ in when He knocked, but now he wants Christ to come." And when He did
come, do you think my soul rejected Him? Nay, nay; but I fell down at His feet,
crying, "Come in! Come in! thou Blessed Saviour. I have waited for Thy
salvation, O my God!"There is no living soul beyond the reach of hope, no chosen
one whom Christ cannot bring up even from the very gates of hell. He can bare
His arm, put out His hand, and pluck the brand "out of the fire" (Zechariah
iii.2). In a horrible pit, in the miry clay, His jewels have been hidden; but
down from the throne of light He can come, and thrusting in His arm of mercy, He
can pull them out, and cause them to glitter in His crown for ever. Let it be
settled in our hearts, as a matter of fact, that what God has purposed to do, He
will surely accomplish.I need not dwell longer upon this point, because I think
I have really brought out the essence of this first sentence of my text: "All
that the Father giveth Me shall come to Me." Permit me just to remark, before I
pass on, that I am sometimes sad on account of the alarm that some Christians
seem to have concerning this precious and glorious doctrine. We have, in the
Baptist denomination, -- I am sorry to have to say it, -- many ministers,
excellent brethren, who, while they believe this doctrine, yet never preach it.
On the other hand, we have some ministers, excellent brethren, who never preach
anything else. They have a kind of barrel-organ that only plays five tunes, and
they are always repeating them. It is either Election, Predestination,
Particular Redemption, Effectual Calling, Final Perseverance, or something of
that kind; it is always the same note. But we have also a great many others who
never preach concerning these doctrines, though they admit they are doctrines
taught in Sacred Scripture. The reason for their silence is, because they say
these truths are not suitable to be preached from the pulpit. I hold such an
utterance as that to be very wicked. Is the doctrine here -- in this Bible? If
it is, as God hath taught it, so are we to teach it. "But," they say, "not in a
mixed assembly." Where can you find an unmixed assembly? God has sent the Bible
into a mixed world, and the gospel is to be preached in " all the world", and
"to every creature." "Yes," they say, "preach the gospel, but not these special
truths of the gospel; because, if you preach these doctrines, the people will
become Antinomians and Hyper-Calvinists." Not so; the reason why people become
Hyper-Calvinists and Antinomians, is because some, who profess to be Calvinists,
often keep back part of the truth, and do not, as Paul did, "declare all the
counsel of God"; they select certain parts of Scripture, where their own
particular views are taught, and pass by other aspects of God's truth. Such
preachers as John Newton, and in later times, your own Christmas Evans, were men
who preached the whole truth of God; they kept back nothing that God has
revealed; and, as the result of their preaching, Antinomianism could not find a
foot-hold anywhere. We should have each doctrine of Scripture in its proper
place, and preach it fully; and if we want to have a genuine revival of
religion, we must preach these doctrines of Jehovah's sovereign grace again and
again. Do not tell me they will not bring revivals. There was but one revival
that I have ever heard of, apart from Calvinistic doctrine, and that was the one
in which Wesley took so great a part; but then George Whitefield was there also
to preach the whole Word of God. When people are getting sleepy, if you want to
arouse and wake them up thoroughly, preach the doctrine of Divine Sovereignty to
them; for that will do it right speedily. III. I shall now turn very briefly to
the second sentence of my text: "And him that cometh to Me I will in no wise
cast out.""Now," says somebody, "he is going to knock down all that he has been
building up." Well, I would rather be inconsistent with myself than with my
Master; but I dare not alter this second sentence, and I have no desire to alter
it. Let it stand as it is, all its glorious simplicity: -- "HIM THAT COMETH TO
ME I WILL IN NO WISE CAST OUT."Let the whole world come, still this promise is
big enough to embrace them all in its arms. There is no mistake here, the wrong
man cannot come. If any sinner come to Christ, he is sure to be the right one.
Mark, too, as there is no limitation in the person coming, so there is no
limitation in the manner of the coming. Says one, "Suppose I come the wrong
way?" You cannot come the wrong way; it is written, "No man can come to Me,
except the Father which hath sent Me draw him." "No man can come unto Me, except
it were given unto him of My Father" (John vi.44,65). If, then, you come to
Christ in any way, you are drawn of the Father, and He cannot draw the wrong
way. If you come to Christ at all, the power and will to come have been given
you of the Father. If you come to Christ, He will in no wise cast you out; for
no possible or conceivable reason will Jesus ever cast out any sinner who comes
to Him. There is no reason in hell, or on earth, or in heaven, why Jesus should
cast out the soul that comes to Him. If Satan, the foul accuser of the brethren,
brings reasons why the coming sinner should not be received, Jesus will "cast
down" the accuser, but He will not "cast out" the sinner. "Come unto Me, all ye
that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give your rest," is still His
invitation and His promise, too.Let us suppose a case by the way of
illustration. Here is a man in Swansea, -- ragged, dirty, coal-begrimed, -- who
has received a message from Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria. It reads
in this wise: "You are hereby commanded to come, just as you are, to our palace
at Windsor, to receive great and special favours at our hand. You will stay away
at your peril." The man reads the message, and at first scarcely understands it;
so he thinks, "I must wash and prepare myself." Then, he re-reads the royal
summons, and the words arrest him: "Come just as your are." So he starts, and
tells the people in the train where he is going, and they laugh at him. At
length he arrives at Windsor Castle; there he is stopped by the guard, and
questioned. He explains why he has come, and shows the Queen's message; and he
is allowed to pass. He next meets with a gentlemen in waiting, who, after some
explanations and expressions of astonishment, allows him to enter the ante-room.
When there, our friend becomes frightened on account of his begrimed and ragged
appearance; he is half inclined to rush from the place with fear, when he
remembers the works of the royal command: "Stay away at your peril." Presently,
the Queen herself appears, and tells him how glad she is that he has come just
as he was. She says she purposes that he shall be suitably clothed, and be made
one of the princes of her court. She adds, "I told you to come as you were. It
seemed to be a strange command to you, but I am glad you have obeyed, and so
come."I do think this is what Jesus Christ says to every creature under heaven.
The gospel invitation runs thus: "Come, come, come to Christ, just as you are."
"But, let me feel more." No, come just as you are. "But let me get home to my
own room, and let me pray." No, no, come to Christ just as you are. As you are,
trust in Jesus, and He will save you. Oh, do dare to trust Him! If anybody shall
ask, "Who are you?" answer, "I am nobody." If anyone objects, "You are such a
filthy sinner," reply, "Yes,'tis true, so I am; but He Himself told me to come."
If anyone shall say, "You are not fit to come," say, "I know I am not fit; but
He told me to come." Therefore, -- "Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,Weak and
wounded, sick and sore;Jesus ready stands to save you,Full of pity join'd with
power;He is able,He is willing; doubt no more."Let not conscience make you
linger,Nor of fitness fondly dream;All the fitness He requireth,Is to feel you
need of Him:This He gives you;'Tis the Spirit's rising beam."Sinner, trust in
Jesus: and if thou dost perish trusting in Jesus, I will perish with thee. I
will make my bed in hell, side by side with thee, sinner, if thou canst perish
trusting in Christ, and thou shalt lie there, and taunt me to all eternity for
having taught thee falsely, if we perish. But that can never be; those who trust
in Jesus shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of His hand. Come
to Jesus, and He will in no wise cast thee out.May the Lord bless the words I
have spoken! Though hastily suggested to my mind, and feebly delivered to you,
the Lord bless them, for Christ's sake! Amen.


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Source: https://sermonindex.net/books/spurgeons-sermons-volume-62-1916/
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