__________________________________________________________________ Title: Spurgeon's Sermons Volume 16: 1870 Creator(s): Spurgeon, Charles Haddon (1834-1892) CCEL Subjects: All; Sermons; LC Call no: BV42 LC Subjects: Practical theology Worship (Public and Private) Including the church year, Christian symbols, liturgy, prayer, hymnology Times and Seasons. The church year __________________________________________________________________ Assured Security In Christ (No. 908) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JANUARY 2, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which Ihave committed unto Him against that day." 2 Timothy 1:12. IN the style of these Apostolic words there is a positiveness most refreshing in this age of doubt. In certain circles of society it is rare nowadays to meet with anybody who believes anything. It is the philosophical, the right, the fashionable thing, nowadays, to doubt everything which is generally received. Indeed, those who have any creed whatever are by the liberal school set down as old-fashioned dogmatists, persons of shallow minds, deficient in intellect, and far behind their age. The great men, the men of thought, the men of high culture and refined taste consider it wisdom to cast suspicion upon Revelation, and sneer at all definiteness of belief. "Ifs" and "buts," and "perhaps" are the supreme delight of this period. What wonder if men find everything uncertain--when they refuse to bow their intellects to the declarations of the God of Truth? Note then, with admiration, the refreshing and even startling positiveness of the Apostle--"I know," says he. And that is not enough--"I am persuaded." He speaks like one who cannot tolerate a doubt. There is no question about whether he has believed or not. "I know Whom I have believed." There is no question as to whether he was right in so believing. "I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him." There is no suspicion as to the future. He is as positive for years to come as he is for this present moment. "He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him against that day." Now there is a positiveness which is very disgusting--when it is nothing but the fruit of ignorance and is unattended with anything like thoughtfulness. But in the Apostle's case, his confidence is founded not on ignorance, but on knowledge. "I know," says he. There are certain things which he has clearly ascertained, which he knows to be fact. And his confidence is grounded on these ascertained Truths of God. His confidence, moreover, was not the fruit of thoughtlessness, for he adds, "I am persuaded." As though he had reasoned the matter out and had been persuaded into it--had meditated long upon it, and turned it over--and the force of Truth had quite convinced him, so that he stood persuaded. Where positiveness is the result of knowledge and of meditation, it becomes sublime, as it was in the Apostle's case. And being sublime it becomes influential. In this case it certainly must have been influential over the heart of Timothy, and over the minds of the tens of thousands who have, during these nineteen centuries, perused this Epistle. It encourages the timid when they see others preserved. It confirms the wavering when they see others steadfast. The great Apostle's words, ringing out with trumpet tone this morning, "I know, and I am persuaded," cannot but help to cheer many of us in our difficulties and anxieties. May the Holy Spirit cause us not only to admire the faith of Paul, but to imitate it, and to attain to the same confidence! Some speak confidently because they are not confident. How often have we observed that brag and bluster are only the outward manifestations of inward trembling? They are but concealments adopted to cover cowardice! As the schoolboy, passing through the Churchyard, whistles to keep his courage up, so some people talk very positively because they are not positive. They make a pompous parade of faith because they desire to sustain the presumption which, as being their only comfort, is exceedingly dear to them. Now in the Apostle's case, every syllable he speaks has beneath it a most real weight of confidence which the strongest expressions could not exaggerate. Sitting there in the dungeon, a prisoner for Christ, abhorred by his countrymen, despised by the learned, and ridiculed by the rude, Paul confronted the whole world with a holy boldness which knew no quailing. A boldness resulting from the deep conviction of his spirit. You may take these words and put what emphasis you can upon each one of them, for they are the truthful utterance of a thoroughly earnest and brave spirit. May we enjoy such a confidence ourselves, and then we need not hesitate to declare it--for our testimony will glorify God and bring consolation to others. This morning for our instruction, as the Holy Spirit may help us, we shall first consider the matter in question, that which Paul had committed to Christ. Secondly, the fact beyond all question, namely, that Christ was able to keep him. Thirdly, the assurance of that fact, or how the Apostle was able to say, "I know and am persuaded." And fourthly, the influence of that assurance when it rules in the heart. I. First, then, dear Friends, let us speak for a few minutes upon THE MATTER IN QUESTION. 1. That matter was, first of all, the Apostle's deposit of all his interests and concerns into the hands of God in Christ. Some have said that what Paul here speaks of was his ministry. But there are many reasons for concluding that this is a mistake. A great array of expositors, at the head of whom we would mention Calvin, think that the sole treasure which Paul deposited in the hands of God was his eternal salvation. We do not doubt that this was the grandest portion of the priceless deposit--but we also think that as the connection does not limit the sense, it cannot be restricted or confined to any one thing. It seems to us that all the Apostle's temporal and eternal interests were, by an act of faith, committed into the hands of God in Christ Jesus. To the Lord's gracious keeping the Apostle committed his body. He had suffered much in that frail tabernacle-- shipwrecks, perils, hunger, cold, nakedness, imprisonments, beatings with rods and stoning had all spent their fury upon him. He expected before long that his mortal frame would become the prey of Nero's cruelty. None could tell what would then happen to him--whether he should be burned alive to light up Nero's gardens, be torn to pieces by wild beasts to make a Roman holiday--or become the victim of the headsman's sword. But in whatever way he might be called to offer up himself a sacrifice to God, he committed his body to the keeping of Him who is the Resurrection and the Life. He was persuaded that in the day of the Lord's appearing he would rise again, his body having suffered no loss through torture or dismemberment. He looked for a joyful resurrection and asked no better embalming for his corpse than the power of Christ would ensure it. He gave over to Christ at that hour his character and reputation. A Christian minister must expect to lose his reputation among men. He must be willing to suffer every reproach for Christ's sake. But he may rest assured that he will never lose his real honor if it is risked for the Truth's sake and placed in the Redeemer's hands. The day shall declare the excellence of the upright, for it will reveal all that was hidden and bring to light that which was concealed. There will be a resurrection of characters as well as persons. Every reputation that has been obscured by clouds of reproach for Christ's sake shall be rendered glorious when the righteous shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let the wicked say what they will of me, said the Apostle, I commit my character to the Judge of the quick and the dead. So also his whole lifework he delivered into the hands of God. Men said, no doubt, that Paul had made a great mistake. In the eyes of the worldly wise he must have seemed altogether mad. What eminence awaited him had he become a rabbi! He might have lived respected and honored among his countrymen as a Pharisee. Or if he had preferred to follow the Grecian philosophies, a man with such strength of mind might have rivaled Socrates or Plato! But instead, he chose to unite himself with a band of men commonly reputed to be ignorant fanatics who turned the world upside down. Ah, well, says Paul, I leave the reward and fruit of my life entirely with my Lord, for He will at last justify my choice of service beneath the banner of His Son. And then the assembled universe shall know that I was no mistaken zealot for a senseless cause. So did the Apostle resign to the hands of God in Christ his soul, whatever its jeopardy from surrounding temptations. However great the corruptions that were within it, and the dangers that were without, he felt safe in the great Surety's hands. He made over to the Divine Trustee all his mental powers, faculties, passions, instincts, desires and ambitions. He gave his whole nature up to the Christ of God to preserve it in holiness through the whole of life. And right well did his life-course justify his faith. He gave that soul up to be kept in the hour of death, then to be strengthened, sustained, consoled, upheld, and guided through the tracks unknown--up through the mysterious and unseen--to the Throne of God, even the Father. He resigned his spirit to Christ, that it might be presented without spot or wrinkle or any such thing in the Last Great Day. He did, in fact, make a full deposit of all that he was, and all that he had, and all that concerned him, into the keep- ing of God in Christ, to find in his God a faithful Guardian, a sure Defender and a safe Keeper. This was the matter, then, about which the Apostle was concerned. 2. But next to this, the matter in question concerned the Lord's ability to make good this guardianship. The Apostle did not doubt that Christ had accepted the office of Keeper of that which he had committed to Him. The question was never about Christ's faithfulness to that trust. The Apostle does not even say that he was confident that Jesus would be faithful. He felt that assertion to be superfluous. There was no question about Christ's willingness to keep the soul committed to Him--such a statement Paul felt it unnecessary to make. But the question with many was concerning the power of the once crucified Redeemer to keep that which was committed to Him. Oh, said the Apostle, I know and am persuaded that He is able to do that. Mark, my dear Friends, that the question is not about the Apostle's power to keep himself. That question he does not raise. Many of you have been troubled as to whether you are able to endure temptation. You need not debate the subject. It is clear that apart from Christ you are quite unable to persevere to the end. Answer that question with a decided negative at once, and never raise it again. The enquiry was not whether the Apostle would be found meritorious in his own righteousness in the Day of Judgment, for he had long ago cast that righteousness aside. He does not raise that point. The grand question is this, "Is Jesus able to keep me?" Stand to that, my Brethren, and your doubts and fears will soon come to an end. Concerning your own power or merit, write, "despair," straightway upon its forehead. Let the creature be regarded as utterly dead and corrupt, and then lean on that arm, the sinews of which shall never shrink. And cast your full weight upon that Omnipotence which bears up the pillars of the universe. There is the point--keep to it, and you will not lose your joy. You have committed yourself to Christ. The great question now is not about what you can do, but about what Jesus is able to do. And rest assured that He is able to keep that which you have committed to Him. 3. The Apostle further carries our thoughts on to a certain set period--the keeping of the soul unto what he calls "that day." I suppose he calls it, "that day," because it was the day most ardently expected and commonly spoken of by Christians. It was so usual a topic of conversation to speak of Christ's coming and of the results of it, that the Apostle does not say, "the advent," he simply says, "that day." That day with which Believers are more familiar than with any other day beside. That day, the day of death if you will, when the soul appears before its God. The Day of Judgment, if you please--that day when the books shall be opened and the record shall be read. That day, the winding up of all, the sealing of destiny, the manifestation of the eternal fate of each one of us. That day for which all other days were made. Christ Jesus is able to keep us against that day. That is to say, He is able to place us, then, at the right hand of God, to set our feet upon the Rock when others sink into the pit that is bottomless. To crown us when others shall be accursed. To bring us to eternal joy when sinners shall be cast into Hell. Here was the matter of consideration--can the Great Shepherd of souls preserve His flock? Ah, Brethren, if you have never searched into that question, I should not wonder but what you will! When you are very low and weak, and heart and flesh are failing. When sickness brings you to the borders of the grave and you gaze into eternity, the enquiry will come to any thoughtful man--Is this confidence of mine in the Christ of God warranted? Will He be able in this last article, when my spirit shivers in its unclothing, will He be able to help me now? And in the more dreadful hour, when the trumpet peal shall awake the dead, shall I, indeed, find the Great Sin Bearer able to stand for me? Having no merit of my own, will His merit suffice? From ten thousand sins will His blood, alone, cleanse me? Nothing can ever equal this matter in importance. It is one of most pressing urgency of consideration. II. It is a happy circumstance that we can turn from it to our second point, to dwell for a while upon THE FACT BEYOND ALL QUESTION, namely, that God in Christ is able to keep that which we have committed to Him. The Apostle's confidence was that Christ was an able Guardian. So he meant, first, that Jesus is able to keep the soul from falling into damning sin. I suppose this is one of the greatest fears that has ever troubled the true Believer. Have you ever prayed that you might rather die than turn aside from Christ? I know I have, and I have sung bitterly in my soul that verse-- "Ah, Lord! With such a heart as mine, Unless You hold me fast, I feel I must, I shall decline, And turn from You at last." Now, troubled Christian, remember that your Lord is able to keep you under every possible form of temptation. "Ah," you say, "the Apostle Paul had not the trials I have. I think he had. But if he had not, Jesus had. And Christ has ability to keep you under them. Do I hear one say, "I am the only one of my household that has been called by Grace, and they all oppose me. I am a lonely one in my father's house"? Now, Paul was precisely in your condition. He was a Hebrew of the Hebrews, and he was regarded by his people with the most extreme hate because he had come out from among them to follow the Crucified One. Yet Paul felt that God was able to keep him, and you may depend upon it--though father and mother forsake, and brothers and sisters scoff--He whom you trust will keep you also firm in the faith. "Ah," says another, "but you do not know what it is to strive with the prejudices of an education hostile to the faith of Jesus. When I seek to grow in Grace, the things I learned in my childhood force themselves upon me and hinder me." And was not the Apostle in this case? As touching the Law he had been a Pharisee, educated in the strictest sect, brought up in traditions that were opposed to the faith of Christ. And yet the Lord kept him faithful even to the end. None of his old prejudices were able so much as to make him obscure the simplicity of the Gospel of Christ. God is able to keep you, also, despite your previous prejudices. "Ah," says one, "but I am the subject of many skeptical thoughts. I often suffer from doubts of the most subtle order." Do you think that the Apostle never knew this trial? He was no stranger to the Greek philosophy, which consisted of a bundle of questions and skepticisms. He must have experienced those temptations which are common to thoughtful minds. And yet he said, "I know that He is able to keep me." Believe me, then, the Lord Jesus is equally able to keep you. "Yes," says another, "but I have so many temptations in the world. If I were not a Christian, I should prosper much better. I have openings now before me by which I might soon obtain a competence, and perhaps wealth, if I were not checked by conscience." Do you forget that the Apostle was in like case? What might he not have had? A man of his condition in life--his birth and parentage being altogether advantageous--a man of his powers of mind and of his great energy! He might have seized upon any attractive position. But those things which were gain for him, he counted loss for Christ's sake. And he was willing to be less than nothing, because the power of Divine Grace kept him true to his profession. But you tell me you are very poor, and that poverty is a severe trial. Brothers and Sisters, you are not so poor as Paul. I suppose a few needles for his tent-making, an old cloak, and a few parchments made up all his wealth. A man without a home, a man without a single foot of land to call his own, was this Apostle. But poverty and want could not subdue him--Christ was able to keep him even then. "Ah," you say, "but he had not my strong passions and corruptions." Most surely he had them all, for we hear him cry, "I find, then, a Law, that when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the Law of God after the inward man: but I see another Law in my members, warring against the Law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the Law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" He was tempted as you are, yet he knew that Christ was able to keep him. O trembling Christian, never doubt this soul-cheering fact--that your loving Savior is able to keep you. But the Apostle did not merely trust Christ thus to keep him from sin--he relied upon the same arm to preserve him from despair. He was always battling with the world. There were times when he had no helper. The Brethren often proved false, and those that were true were frequently timid. He was left in the world like a solitary sheep surrounded with wolves. But Paul was not faint-hearted. He had his fears, for he was mortal--he rose superior to them, for he was Divinely sustained. What a front he always maintains! Nero may rise before him--a horrible monster for a man even to dream of--but Paul's courage does not give way. A Jewish mob may surround him, they may drag him out of the city--but Paul's mind is calm and composed. He may be laid in the stocks after having been scourged, but his heart finds congenial utterance in a song rather than a groan. He is always brave, always unconquerable, confident of victory. He believed that God would keep him, and he was kept. And you, my Brothers and Sisters, though your life may be a very severe conflict and you sometimes think you will give it up in despair--you never shall relinquish the sacred conflict. He that has borne you onward to this day will bear you through, and will make you more than conqueror, for He is able to keep you from fainting and despair. Doubtless, the Apostle meant, too, that Christ was able to keep him from the power of death. Beloved, this is great comfort to us who so soon shall die. To the Apostle, death was a very present thing. "I die daily," said he. Yet was he well assured that death would be gain rather than loss to him, for he was certain that Christ would so order all things that death should be but like an angel to admit him into everlasting life. Be certain of this, too, for He who is the Resurrection and the Life will not desert you. Do not, my Brothers and Sisters, fall under bondage through fear of death, for the living Savior is able to keep you, and He will. Do not, I pray, look too much at the pains, groans, and dying strife. Look rather to that kind Friend, who, having endured the agonies of death before you, can sympathize with your sufferings, and who, as He ever lives, can render you available assistance. Cast this care on Him, and fear no more to die than you fear to go to your bed when night comes. The Apostle is also certain that Christ is able to preserve his soul in another world. Little is revealed in Scripture by way of detailed description of that other world. Imagination may be indulged, but little can be proved. The spirit returns to God who gave it, this we know. And in the instant after death the righteous soul is in Paradise with Christ. This, too, is clear. Yet whether we know the details or not, we are assured that the soul is safe with Christ. Whatever danger from evil spirits may await us on our journey from this planet up to the dwelling place of God. Whatever there may be of conflict in the last moment, Jesus is able to keep that which we have committed to Him. If I had to keep myself, I might, indeed, tremble with alarm at the prospect of the unknown region. But He that is the Lord of death and of Hell, and has the keys of Heaven, can surely keep my soul on that dread voyage across a trackless sea. It is all well. It must be well with the righteous--even in the land of death--for our Lord's dominion reaches even there--and being in His dominions we are safe. Paul believed, lastly, that Christ was able to preserve his body. Remember my statement that Paul committed all that he had, and was, to God in Christ? We must not despise this body. It is the germ of the body in which we are to dwell forever. It shall be raised from corruption into incorruption, but it is the same body. Developed from weakness into power, from dishonor into glory, it never loses its identity. The marvel of the resurrection will not fail of accomplishment. It may seem an impossibility that the body which has rotted in the tomb, and, perhaps been scattered in dust over the face of the soil--which has been absorbed by vegetables, which has been digested by animals, which has passed through countless circles of change--should be raised again. Yet impossible as it seems, the Lord Jesus Christ will perform it. It must be as easy to construct a second time as to create out of nothing at the first. Look at creation and see that nothing is impossible with God. Think of the Word, without whom was not anything made that was made, and straightway you will talk no longer of difficulties. With man it may be impossible, but with God all things are possible. In your entirety, my Brethren, in the integrity of your manhood, spirit, soul, and body--all that is essential to your nature, to its happiness, to its perfection. Every part of you and every power of you--you having placed all in the hands of Christ--shall be kept until that day, when in His image you shall stand, and prove in your own persons the power which in your faith you do, this day, devoutly trust. III. We shall, in the third place, pass on to notice THE ASSURANCE OF THAT FACT, or how the Apostle Paul attained to it. "I cannot talk like that," says one. "I cannot say, 'I know, and I am persuaded,' I am very thankful that I can say, I hope, I trust, I think." Dear Friends, in order to help you to advance, we will notice how the Apostle Paul attained to such assurance. One main help to him was the habit, as seen in this text, of always making faith the most prominent point of consideration. Faith is twice mentioned in the few lines before us. "I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him." Paul knew what faith was, namely, a committal of his precious things into the custody of Christ. He does not say, "I have served Christ." No. He does not say, "I am growing like Christ, therefore I am persuaded I shall be kept." No. He makes most prominent in his thought the fact that he believed, and so had committed himself to Christ. I would to God, dear Friends, that you who are subject to doubts and fears, instead of raking about in your hearts to find evidences and marks of growth in Grace and likeness to Christ, and so on, would first make an investigation concerning a point which is far more vital--namely this--have you believed? Dear anxious Heart, begin your search on this point. Do you commit yourself to Christ? If you do, what though marks should be few and evidences for awhile should be obscure, he that believes on Him has everlasting life. He that believes and is baptized shall be saved. The evidences will come, the marks will be cleared in due time. But all the marks and evidences between here and Heaven are not worth a single farthing to a soul when it comes to actual conflict with death and Hell. Then it must be simple faith that wins the day. Those other things are good enough in brighter times. But if it is a question whether you are safe or not, you must come to this, "I have rested with all my heart on Him that came into the world to save sinners, and though I am the very chief of sinners, I believe He is able to save me." You will get to assurance if you keep clear about your faith. The next help to assurance, as I gather from the text, is this. The Apostle maintained most clearly his view of a personal Christ. Observe how three times he mentioned his Lord. "I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him." He does not say, "I know the doctrines I believe." Surely he did, but this was not the main point. He does not say, "I am certain about the form of sound Words which I hold." He was certain enough about that, but it was not his foundation. No mere doctrines can ever be the stay of the soul. What can a dogma do? What can a creed do? Brethren, these are like medicines--you need a hand to give them to you. You want the physician to administer them to you--otherwise you may die with all these precious medicines close at hand. We want a person to trust. There is no Christianity to my mind so vital, so influential, so true, so real, as the Christianity which deals with the Person of the living Redeemer. I know Him, I know He is God, I know that He is mine. I trust not merely in His teaching, but in Him. Not on His laws, rules, or teachings am I depending so much as on Himself, as a Person. Dear Brothers and Sisters, is that what you are doing now? Have you put your soul into the keeping of that blessed Man who is also God? He who sits at the right hand of the Father? Can you come in faith to His feet and kiss the prints of the nails? Can you look up into His dear face and say, "Ah, Son of God, I rely upon the power of Your arms, on the preciousness of Your blood, on the love of Your heart, on the prevalence of Your plea, on the certainty of Your promises, on the immutability of Your Character. I rest on You, and on You alone"? You will get assurance readily enough, now. But if you begin to fritter away your realization of the Person of Christ and live merely on dogmas and doctrines, you will be far removed from real assurance. Brothers and Sisters, the Apostle attained this full assurance through growing knowledge. He did not say, "I am persuaded that Christ will save me, apart from anything I know about Him." But he begins by saying, "I know." Let no Christian among us neglect the means provided for obtaining a fuller knowledge of the Gospel of Christ. I would that this age produced more thoughtful and studious Christians. I am afraid that apart from what many of you gather from the sermon, or from the reading of the Scriptures in public, you do not learn much from the Word of God, or from those innumerable instructive books which godly men have bequeathed to us. Men are studious in various schools and colleges in order to obtain knowledge of the classics and mathematics. But should we not be even more diligent that we may know Christ? That we may study Him, and all about Him--and no longer be children, but in knowledge may be men? Many of the fears of Christians would be driven away if they knew more. Ignorance is not bliss in Christianity, but misery. Knowledge sanctified and attended by the Presence of the Holy Spirit is as wings by which we may rise out of the mists and darkness into the light of fall assurance. The knowledge of Christ is the most excellent of sciences. Seek to be masters of it, and you are on the road to full assurance. Once, again, the Apostle, it appears from the text, gained his assurance from close consideration as well as from knowledge. "I know and am persuaded." As I have already said, persuasion is the result of argument. The Apostle had turned this matter over in his mind. He had meditated on the pros and cons. He had carefully weighed each difficulty, and he felt the preponderating force of Truth swept every difficulty out of the way. O Christian, if you made your mind more familiar with Divine Truth, you would, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, have much more assurance! I believe it is the doctrine which we have least studied in the Word which gives us the most trouble in our minds. Search it out and look. The divisions among Christians, nowadays, are not so much the result of real differences of opinion as of want of accurate thought. I believe we are getting closer and closer in our theology, and that on the whole, at least among the Nonconforming Churches of England, very much the same theology is preached by all evangelical ministers. But some are not careful of their terms and words, and use them incorrectly. And so they seem to preach wrong doctrines when in their hearts they mean rightly enough. May we come to be more thoughtful, each of us, for a thousand benefits would flow from there. Thinking of the Deity of Christ, considering of the veracity of the Divine promises, meditating upon the foundations of the Everlasting Covenant, revolving in our minds what Christ has done for us--we should come at last, by the Spirit's teaching--to be fully persuaded of the power of Christ to keep the sacred charge which we have given to Him. Doubts and fears would vanish like clouds before the wind. How many Christians are like the miser who never feels sure about the safety of his money, even though he has locked up the iron safe and secured the room in which he keeps it--and locked up the house--and bolted and barred every door? In the dead of night he thinks he hears a footstep, and tremblingly he goes down to inspect his strong-room. Having searched the room and tested all the iron bars in the windows, and discovered no thief, he fears that the robber may have come and gone, and stolen his precious charge. So he opens the door of his iron safe. He looks and pries, he finds his bag of gold all safe, and those deeds, those bonds--they are safe, too. He puts them away, shuts the door, locks it, bolts and bars the room in which is the safe and all its contents. But even as he goes to bed he fancies that a thief has just now broken in! So he scarcely ever enjoys sound, refreshing sleep. The safety of the Christian's treasure is of quite another sort. His soul is not under bolt and bar, or under lock and key of his own securing. He has transferred his all to the King eternal, immortal, invisible--the only wise God, our Savior--and such is his security that he enjoys the sleep of the Beloved, calmly resting, for all is well. If Jesus could fail us, we might wear sackcloth forever! But while He is Immutable in His love and Omnipotent in his power, we may put on the garments of praise. Believing as we do that eternal love neither can, nor will desert a soul that reposes in its might, we triumph in heart and find glory begun below. IV. Now to close. What is THE INFLUENCE OF THIS ASSURANCE when it penetrates the mind? As time fails me, I shall but say that, as in the Apostle's case, it enables us to bear all the disgrace which we may incur in serving the Lord. They said Paul was a fool. "Well," replied the Apostle, "I am not ashamed, for I know Whom I have believed. I am willing to be thought a fool." The ungodly may laugh at us now, but their laughs will soon be over, and he will laugh that wins forever. Feel perfectly confident that all is safe and you can let the world grin at you till its face aches. What does it matter what mortals think? What difference does it make what the whole universe thinks if our souls are beloved of God? You will, my dear Friends, as you live in full assurance of God's love, grow quite indifferent to the opinions of the carnal. You will go about your heavenly service with an eye only to your Master's will--and the judgment of such as cavil and carp will seem to you to be too inconsiderable to be worth a thought. If you doubt and fear, you will be hard put to it. But if you are serenely confident that He is able to keep you, you will dare the thickest of the fray--fearless because your armor is of God. Assurance will give you a serenity within which will qualify you for doing much service. A man who is always worrying about his own soul's salvation can have little energy with which to serve his Lord. But when the soul knows the meaning of Christ's words, "It is finished," it turns all its strength into the channels of service out of love to such a blessed Savior. O you that doubt, and therefore fret and care, and ask the question, "Do I love the Lord or not? Am I His or am I not?"--how I wish this suspense were over with you! O you who fear daily, lest, after all, you will be castaways--you lose your strength for serving your God! When you are sure that He is able to keep what you have committed to Him, then your whole manhood, excited by gratitude, spends itself and is spent in your Master's cause. God make you men to the fullness of vigor by giving you a fullness of assurance. Those who are unsaved in this place may well envy those who are. That which attracted me to Christ--I have not heard of others brought in this way, but this brought me to Christ mainly--was the doctrine of the safety of the saints. I fell in love with the Gospel through that Truth. What, I thought, are those who trust in Jesus safe? Shall they never perish and shall none pluck them out of Christ's hands? Everybody esteems safety. One would not insure his life where he thought there was a doubt as to the safety of the insurance. Feeling that there was perfect safety if I gave myself up to the Redeemer, I did so. And I entertain no regrets to this day that I committed my soul to Him. Young people, you cannot do better than early in life entrust your future with the Lord Jesus. Many children at home appear to be very excellent. Many lads, before they leave their father's house, are amiable and commendable in character. But this is a rough world--and it soon spoils the Graces that have been nurtured in the conservatory of the home. Good boys very often turn out very bad men. And girls who were so lovely and pure at home have been known to become very wicked women. O children, your characters will be safe if you trust them with Jesus! I do not say you will be rich if you trust Christ, nor that you will prosper after the manner of men. But I do say that you shall be happy in the best sense of that word, and that your holiness shall be preserved through trusting yourself with Jesus. I pray that you may be led to desire this, especially any of you who are leaving your father's house, or are setting up in business on your own account. Commit yourselves to God! This first Sunday of a new year. What time more suitable for beginning aright? O may the Holy Spirit softly whisper in your ears reasons that shall persuade you to give yourselves to Christ! I say again, my testimony is that you cannot do a wiser or a better thing. Oh, the happiness my soul has known in resting on my Lord! I wish you knew it. I would not cease to be a Christian if I might be made a king or an angel. No character can be to me so suitable or so happy as that of a humble dependant upon the faithful love of my redeeming Lord. O come and trust Him, dear young Friends! You older ones--do you need that I should speak to you, when you are getting so near your grave? You are now out of Christ--how soon may you be in Hell? You younger ones, I say, embrace this flying hour and let this be the day of which you shall sing in after years -- "It is done! The great transaction's done! Iam my Lord's, and He is mine-- He drew me, and by His Grace I followed on, Charmed to confess the voice Divine. High Heaven, thatheard the solemn vow, That vow renewed shall daily hear-- Till in life's latest hour I bow, And bless in death a bond so dear." __________________________________________________________________ Voices from the Excellent Glory (No. 909) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JANUARY 9, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "And Jesus, when He was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon Him: and lo a voice from Heaven, saying, This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased." Matthew 3:16,17. "While he yet spoke, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a Voice out of the cloud, which said, This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased; hear Him." Matthew 17:5. "Father, glorify Your name. Then came there a Voice from Heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." John 12:28. THAT our Lord was the true Messiah of God was proved by His answering to all those prophecies which described the promised Messenger of the Covenant. His miracles also proved that God was with Him, and from their character they marked Him out as the ordained Deliverer. To open blind eyes and unstop deaf ears were works foretold as denoting the Messiah. His teachings were equally clear proofs of His mission--there is about them an authority found nowhere else. The words which He spoke are Spirit and Life. They are self-evidencing in their elevation, purity, perfection. "Never man spoke like this Man." His Testimony is unique and bears a majesty of Deity about it which bespeaks itself. His resurrection also was a clear proof that he was sent of God. He was "declared to be the Son of God with power, by the resurrection from the dead." But in addition to all this and a great deal more, the Divine Father was pleased, also, to speak out of Heaven with an audible voice to declare that Jesus of Nazareth was no other than the Son of God and the promised Christ for whom the faithful were watching. Thrice did the majesty of Heaven break its sublime silence and bear witness to the Incarnate God. The three occasions, as mentioned in our texts, are most instructive, and shall command our attention this morning. May the Holy Spirit instruct us. Without any further preface, let us consider the three Testimonies given to our Lord by the voice of the Most High. If time permits we will then notice one or two instructive circumstances connected with them. And we will close by drawing a great practical lesson from them. I. In endeavoring to bring before your attentive minds THE THREE OCCASIONS ON WHICH THE FATHER, BY A VOICE FROM HEAVEN, BORE WITNESS TO HIS SON, I would invite you to observe, first, when these voices were heard. Angels had proclaimed His birth, and wise men had seen His star, but the Divine Voice was not heard during the first thirty years of His sojourn. The three celestial utterances were reserved for the brief period of His public life. The first came at the commencement of His public ministry--at His Baptism. The second some little time after the central point of His ministry. And the last, just before He closed His work, by being offered up. It is a fit thing to pray that all our works may be begun, continued, and ended under the Divine blessing. Certainly our Lord Jesus Christ, as to His public work, both began it, continued it, and ended it with the publicly declared witness of the Most High. How cheering a thing it is at the beginning of a great enterprise to have from God clear Testimony that He has sent you upon it! Such was the Testimony given to the Master in the waters of Jordan, when He was first announced as "the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world." How sweetly encouraging it is to the soul when the labor is heavy, the opposition vehement, and the spirit faint, to receive another affirming word from the excellent Glory! Such was that which came to Jesus on the Holy Mount, when retiring from the multitude He sought the refreshment of prayer and fellowship with God. Then, as He prayed, the fashion of His countenance was altered and His raiment was white and glistering, and a Voice came out of the cloud, "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased, hear Him." And best of all, when our work is almost done, and the shadows of evening are lengthening--when we are about to depart into the land of spirits--what a consolation it is to receive another refreshment from the Divine mouth! Such our Savior had a little while before He was lifted up from the earth. In answer to His fervent cry, "Father, glorify Your name," there came a Voice from Heaven saying, "I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." In our departing hours we are most anxious about that which was our life's dearest object. The lifework of Christ was to glorify His Father's name. Concerning that He prayed, and concerning that the Voice gave full assurance. The result of the Lord's lifework was declared to be ensured, and therefore, wrapping Himself about with that heavenly Testimony, the great Redeemer went bravely to His death. It is to be noted, then, that at the beginning, the middle, and end of our Master's work, the Divine Voice was heard. The first celestial witness was uttered after He had lived for thirty years in comparative obscurity. It seemed meet that when He first appeared, there should be some token that He was what He professed to be. That heavenly declaration, be it also remembered, came just before His memorable temptation. He was to be forty days in the wilderness tempted of the devil, and among the horrible suggestions hissed forth from the serpent's mouth would be the doubt, "if you are the Son of God." What better forearming of our great Champion than the witness, "This is My Beloved Son"? How in the recollection of that paternal Testimony would the Son be made strong to overcome all the temptations of the Fiend, or to endure the hunger which followed the forty days of lonely fast! Thus ever, my Brethren, it is not with the Master, only, but with the servants. Before temptation there comes spiritual sustenance which makes the heart strong in endurance. Like Elijah of old, the Believer falls asleep. Being awakened, he eats bread of Heaven's own providing and in the strength of that meat he journeys forty days through the wilderness without weariness. Expect that when the Lord tries you He will also send you strength to sustain you under it. The second occasion of the heavenly utterance was when our Lord was about (according to Luke) to send out other seventy disciples to preach the Word. The twelve had healed the sick, cast out devils and done many mighty works. But now the laborers were to be increased and the harvest more rapidly ingathered. The seventy Evangelists were to carry the Divine Crusade through all the Holy Land. Brethren, it is instructive that Heaven gave to our Savior, before extending His agencies of mercy, a fresh token for good. And we also, when the Lord calls us to wider service, may go up to the mountain to pray. And while we are there we, too, may expect to enjoy the comforting and strengthening witness of the Spirit within. The heavenly Voice shall whisper, "You are Mine," and we shall descend with radiant countenance to fight anew the battles of the Lord. The third heavenly Testimony came to our Lord just before His sufferings and death. I need not say to you how well-timed was that witness. With such a death before Him, with such circumstances surrounding Him--all tending to make His agony sharper, and His death more terrible than any which had fallen to the lot of man before. With Gethsemane, with Gabbatha, with Golgotha all before Him. With such words as these yet to be uttered, "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death." And these, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"--it was meet that the oppressed Sufferer, who must tread the winepress alone--should receive at the outset a Word from the Throne of the Highest, meeting exactly the point about which His soul was most concerned, namely, the glory of the Father's name. While still enlarging upon the times when the Divine Voice was heard, we may also note that the first came to our Lord when He was in the attitude of obedience. Why needed He to be baptized? It is a sinner's ordinance--Jesus is no sinner and needs no washing, no death, no burial! But He takes the sinner's place, and therefore comes to be buried in Jordan, for, "Thus," says He, "it becomes us to fulfill all righteousness." It was to Christ an act of obedience. He took upon Himself the form of a servant, and being found in fashion as a Man, He became obedient to every ordinance of God, and hence He yielded Himself to Baptism. Then came the Voice, "This is My Beloved Son." Brothers and Sisters, learn that when you are in the path of filial obedience you may expect the Spirit to bear witness with your spirit that you are born of God! But if you live in neglect of any known duty--if you are willfully unobservant of any command of Christ--you may expect that there shall be withheld from you the sweet assuring tokens of Divine love. But if you are scrupulously obedient on desiring to know what is the Lord's will, and then promptly do it--not asking the reason why, nor using your own tastes, or indulging your own whims--then in the path of obedience, especially if it costs you much, you may expect to have the witness in yourself that you are a child of God. The second attestation came to our Master in His devout retirement. He had gone up to the mountain to pray. His desire was to be alone. He had taken with Him His accustomed bodyguard of three--Peter, James, and John--that they might be with Him while His soul communed with God. I doubt not that, as in the garden, they were bid to remain a stone's cast distance off, for surely Jesus poured out His soul before God alone. And then it was that suddenly the Glory of God shone upon Him. Then, in His retirement, Moses and Elijah appeared, coming forth from the spirit-world to commune with Him. Then did the Father utter a second time the Testimony, "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased." Brothers and Sisters, you too, like your Master, may expect to receive Divine Testimonies when you are on the mount of communion alone, when your fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. The neglect of retirement will probably rob you of such assurances. If your prayer should be, "Show me a token for good," the answer will be, "Get you to the top of Tabor, get you away to your retirement. There will I give you the token which your heart desires." But to live evermore spending our strength in public, wasting ourselves in the turmoil of this world, and to neglect the soul-refreshing ordinance of private devotion is to deprive the inner man of the richest of spiritual delights. The third Testimony came to our Lord in His ministry. He was preaching in the temple when the Father responded to His prayer. Now while I have spoken a good word for obedience, and also have sought to magnify retirement, let it never be forgotten that public service is equally acceptable to God. Our Lord had been conversing with certain enquiring Greeks and declaring the living power of His death to all who chose to hear Him. In that same hour the Father gave an audible answer to His prayer. If you, my Brethren, are called to any form of service, I beseech you, under no pretext neglect it. The neglect of anything for which you have the talent, and to which you have the call, may deprive you of the inward witness. Bear much fruit--so shall you be His disciples consciously so. Keep His Commandments--so shall you abide in His love and know it. Forget not to be obedient, forget not to be prayerful in retirement, but forget not, also, that you are meant to shine as a light in this world. Forget not that you must work while it is called today. Forget not that you are not sent into this life merely to enjoy spiritual recreation or even celestial refreshment--but to do a work which no other can do--and for which you must give a personal account. We must now dismiss the question of the times, and briefly consider to whom the attestations were given. The first at Baptism, came to John and to our Lord, and most probably to them, only. We do not think the Voice from the opened Heaven was necessarily heard by anyone but John and our Lord. The token of the descending dove was given to John as the sign by which he should discern the Christ. "And I knew Him not. But He that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom you shall see the Spirit descending, and remaining on Him, the same is He which baptizes with the Holy Spirit." John probably gathered from all that he had heard of Jesus that He was the great Bridegroom to whom he stood as a friend. But he was not to follow his own judgment--he was to receive a token from God Himself--and till that token came he could not act as one fully and indisputably convinced. When he had immersed our Lord he saw the heavens opened, saw the Spirit descending upon Him, and heard the confirming Voice. And then he knew beyond all doubt that Jesus was the Christ. To the Baptist, alone, that Voice was audible. And then through him it was published to all Judea. The second Testimony had a somewhat wider range--it came not to one, but to three. Peter, James, and John were present. What if I say to five? For there were with them Moses and Elijah. They represented the Law and the Prophets. The three Apostles were the representatives of the Christian Church--as if to show that Law and Gospel meet in Jesus-- and the things in Heaven and the things on earth are gathered together in one in Him. The Testimony enlarges, you see. At first one opened ear hears it, next five are assured. The third time the Voice was heard by many. How many I cannot say, but the crowd in the temple heard it. Many heard it who did not understand it, for they said it thundered--perhaps perversely determining not to believe in the Presence of God--but to ascribe that articulate Voice rather to a rumbling thunder than to the Divine mouth. Others who confessed that they heard words, averred that an angel spoke--men will have anything but God! Thunder, or cherubim, or even devils they will welcome--but Divine interpositions are irksome to them. Many, we say, heard the third Voice. It was a Testimony to hundreds--may we not learn from this that God's Testimony to Christ is evermore a growing one? If at first He was revealed to one, then to more, then to a numerous band, expect, my Brethren, the fulfillment of that promise, "the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken it." If the glory of Jesus is today seen by thousands, it shall yet be unveiled to tens of thousands, and in the latter days the Voice which spoke once and again to our fathers, shall so speak as to shake not only earth, but also Heaven. And in that day, if not before, every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father! The heavenly Testimony grows and spreads. Jesus is proclaimed as Lord in many hearts. Look not on the present littleness of His visible kingdom, despise not the day of small things. The witness of Jesus is but a spark of fire. But the conflagration thereof shall yet belt the world with holy flames. The three Testimonies were given in this wise. The first, to the greatest of men--for "among those that are born of women there was not a greater Prophet than John the Baptist." Yet the voice revealed a greater than he, whose shoelaces he was not worthy to untie. The second was heard by the best of men--the great Lawgiver, the chief of the Prophets, and the noble of the Apostles--yet the Voice bore witness to a better than they. The third time the Voice echoed in the holiest place in the tem-ple--and there it testified to a holier than the holiest shrine. Jesus is everywhere magnified beyond all others as the only Beloved Son of the Father. I need not however enlarge. There is far more of teaching than either time or ability allow me to open up to you. We come, in the next place, to notice to what God bore Testimony. God never sets His seal to a blank. What was it, then, which He attested? First, at the Jordan, witness was borne to Christ's miraculous origin. "This is My Beloved Son." He comes not here as the Pharisees, and soldiers, and others have done, a mere son of man. Son of man He is, but He is also Son of the infinite, eternal God. And now on His introduction to His work He receives a spiritual anointing and a recognition from the Father. The seal was set that day to His Godhead and His relation to the Father was acknowledged. By the second audible declaration it seems to me that the Father sealed the Son's appointment as the great Prophet, and the anointed Servant of God. For in the second Testimony these memorable words were added, "hear Him." Here God commands us to accept Him as the great Teacher, to acknowledge Him as the Head of the dispensation, to yield to Him our loyal attention and obedience. When the Lord appears, it is necessary that men should know who He is. When He is actually engaged in His work it may be needful to confirm His authority. This was done on the Holy Mount, for so Peter understood it, as he writes in his second Epistle, "For we have not followed cunningly devised fables, when we made known unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eyewitnesses of His majesty. For He received from God the Father honor and glory, when there came such a Voice to Him from the excellent Glory, This is my Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased. And this voice which came from Heaven we heard, when we were with Him in the Holy Mount." The third Testimony bore witness to the success of His work. "I have both glorified My name," says the Father, "and will glorify it again." "What," you say, "what if Jesus should not succeed? He has come into the world to vindicate the justice of God, and reveal His love, and so to glorify God--what if He should miss the mark? What, if after all His life of labor and His death of agony, He should be unsuccessful?" The Father's Word declares that the results anticipated shall certainly be produced. "I have glorified it," says the Father--"all Your past life has glorified My name. Your coming down from Heaven, Your life of thirty years' obedience, all the works which You have done in Your three years of toil. All these have brought renown to the infinite Majesty. And "I will glorify it again," in the most supreme sense. Amidst the glooms of the garden, amidst the terrors of Pilate's hall, and amidst the sorrows of the Cross, I will glorify My name yet again. Yes, and in Your resurrection, in Your ascension, in Your majesty at My right hand, in Your judgment of the quick and the dead I will glorify My name again." The three Voices may be viewed as attesting the Son's Person, work, and success. Some have thought that the three Voices attested our Lord in His threefold offices. John came proclaiming the kingdom--Jesus was in His Baptism proclaimed as the Chief of the new kingdom. On the second occasion, the Voice which said, "Hear Him," ordained Him as the Prophet of His people. And on the third occasion Jesus was owned as a Priest. Standing in the midst of priests--in the Temple where sacrifice was offered--Himself about to offer the true sacrifice. And praying that His sacrifice might glorify God, He receives the witness that God has been glorified in Him, and will be yet again. My Brethren, in this threefold witness receive into your hearts the Testimony of God who cannot lie. Behold your Savior, well-pleasing to His Father. Let Him be well-pleasing to you. Hear Him proclaimed as God's Beloved. O let Him be the Beloved of your hearts! Hear the Testimony born to Him that He has glorified God, and remember that His further glorifying God in some measure depends on you--for it is by your godly conversation, by your holy patience, by your zealous exertions for your Master's praise that God in Christ Jesus is to be glorified until He comes. Let these three Testimonies, as they make up a complete and conclusive code of evidence, have force upon your hearts and minds, and win you to a solemn confidence in your Lord and Master. I shall now ask your attention to the question, How were the Testimonies given? Observe that when our Lord was baptized, the heavens were opened and the Spirit descended. What if this proclaims to us that by His obedience our Lord procured the opening of Heaven for us--that our prayers might ascend to God, and all blessings might descend to us, and especially that the Holy Spirit might come down and rest forever upon the Church of God? The Master's Baptism was the type of His death. Buried beneath the waters of Jordan, He pictured there His being buried in the deeps of agony and in the darkness of the tomb. Rising from the Jordan, He typified His resurrection. Ascending its banks He represented His Ascension into Heaven. God sees in figure all righteousness fulfilled, and answers the type by the relative type of Heaven opened and the dove descending. Heaven was not beheld as opened when a second time the Voice was heard. In Luke 9 we read that the Voice came out of the cloud. The overshadowing cloud is a beautiful representation of the Mediatorship of Christ. He, like a glorious cloud, veils the excessive brightness of the Godhead. He shields us, so that when God speaks, He may not speak as from the top of Sinai--with a voice of trumpet and sound of thunder--but may speak through an interposing Medium, with that still, small voice of love which we can hear with delight. Out of the cloud, my Brethren, God speaks to His people. That is to say, He speaks to us in Christ Jesus. That was a strong utterance of Luther, but it was strictly true, "I will have nothing to do with an absolute God," meaning I will have nothing to do with God out of Christ. If, indeed, we had to do with God out of Christ, what misery were it for us, my Brethren! We should stand in the same terror as Israel did when bounds were set about the Mount. Even Moses said, "I do exceedingly fear and quake." It is a great mercy that the heavenly Voice, as it reaches us, comes out of the cloud. In reading the narrative of the third Divine Testimony, our mind rests neither upon the opening of Heaven nor the cloud, but upon the Voice alone. It is as if the glory of God in the work of Christ put every other thought aside. The opening of Heaven, or the interposition of a Mediator are but means to the great end of glorifying God. O that this one great object may absorb all our souls! But, alas, the Voice, plain as it was, was misunderstood, and the clearest Revelation that God ever gave to mortals has been misunderstood by many. There will always be those who think of thunder and the so-called grandeur of nature--and others who see only angels or second causes. Once more, consider what was it that was spoken on those three occasions. There was a difference in each case, though in the first two but slight. The first time the heavenly Voice preached the Gospel, "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased." The old fathers were likely to say, "Go to Jordan if you would see the Trinity," and we may add, go to Jordan if you would hear the Gospel. "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased." Observe the Gospel in this sentence! The Gospel is tidings concerning a blessed Person sent of God. Such tidings the Lord here utters. This Man rising dripping from the water. This Man is pointed out as the Hope of the world! The Gospel is never preached except where the Person of Jesus Christ is exhibited to men. "I, if I am lifted up"--not truths about Me--but "I Myself, if I am lifted up, will draw all men unto Me." The attraction lies in the Person of Christ, because the real power to save lies there. We have here the Gospel revealing the acceptableness of the chosen Person with God--"My Beloved Son." What men needed was a Savior who could stand for them before God. One dear to the heart of God. It is good news to us that the Anointed One is well-beloved of the Father. Why, my Hearers, though I have not yet opened up the fullness of that utterance, does not Gospel light break in upon you already? Here is a Person sent of God to save--a Man of your own race, but yet right well-beloved of God. He is so near to God as to be called His Beloved Son! But note, yet more earnestly, the Gospel of the next words, "In Whom I am well-pleased." Not, "with Whom," as hasty readers suppose, but, "In Whom I am well-pleased." This is the very Gospel--that God, as He looks upon men is well-pleased with all who are in Christ. God in Christ is not anger, but good pleasure. If I, a poor sinner, enter by faith into Christ, then I may be assured that God is well-pleased with me--that, if I, as His child, come to Him, and by a living faith link my destiny with the life and person of Christ--I need not fear the wrath of Heaven. Sinner, God is not well-pleased with you as you are. Child of God, God is not well-pleased with you as you are--there is enough about either saint or sinner to provoke the Lord to jealousy. But, Sinner, if you are in Christ by faith, God is well-pleased with you. And, O Heir of Heaven, with all your infirmities and imperfections, since you are one with Christ by an eternal and now vital union, God is well-pleased with you! Said I not well that the Gospel sounded from Jordan's waves? The second sound of the Voice uttered not only the Gospel itself, but the Gospel command, "Hear Him." Matthew Henry has some very delightful remarks upon this expression, "Hear Him." He remarks, in effect, that salvation does not come by seeing, as the Roman church would have it, for the disciples were not directed to behold Christ in His Glory, though the sight deserved all their attention. No, but they were bid to hear rather than see. To hear the Gospel is a most important duty, for faith comes by hearing. Salvation comes not by hearing the doctrines of men but by hearing Jesus Christ. There stood Moses. And those three Jewish worthies, Peter, James, and John, might have longed for Moses to open his Mouth--and had he spoken to them they would have been very attentive to Him. But the Word was not, "Hear Moses," but "Hear Him." There was Elijah, too. O for a burning word from that master among the Prophets, whose life was flame. But it was not said, "Hear Elijah," but "Hear Him." "They have Moses and the Prophets, let them hear them," is the word sent to careless sinners, but to sincere seekers the direction is, "Hear Him." Dear Brothers and Sisters, the great salvation of God comes to us through the Testimony of Jesus Christ--not through the moral essays or philosophical treatises or doctrinal discussions of men. "Hear Him," the Gospel so commands you. Let not your ears be deaf when God communicates tidings of eternal life. On the third occasion the Testimony given was not the Gospel nor the Gospel precept, but the Gospel's result--"I have glorified it, and will glorify it again." I call your attention to this that you may be earnest in preaching the Gospel. It is through the Gospel that God is glorified. By the poorest Gospel sermon that was ever preached, God, through His Holy Spirit, gets to Himself a glory which the most pompous ritual cannot yield Him. You never speak well of Jesus but what you glorify God. No Gospel Word falls to the ground and is lost. It must accomplish that for which God has sent it. He has glorified His name by the Gospel, and He will again. Let this encourage those of you who are afraid that the times are very bad and that we are all going to the pope. Do not be at all afraid. God will glorify His name by the Gospel again as He did before. Martin Luther was not, in himself, a character so lovely that one might be overwhelmed with admiration of him. Where, then, lay his power? His power lay in this--that he grasped the true Gospel--and he was a man who, when he grasped a thing, gave it a "grip so firm that the devil himself could not wrench it away from him. With the Gospel in his hands he could say, "Heaps upon heaps with the weapon of the Gospel I have slain my thousands. Heaps upon heaps the foes of God are overturned." He was mighty because he declared the Gospel of Jesus Christ--and with this he shook the world and brought about the Reformation. You need not, therefore, despair. If the ministers of Christ will only come back to preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ, plainly, simply, and with the Holy Spirit sent down from Heaven, we shall drive the Ritualists, those cubs of the old Roman monster, back to their dens, as our fathers did their mother of old. Never lose your faith in the Gospel. Always believe that our power is gone when we get away from the Cross--but know also without a doubt--when we come back to the Truth as it is in Jesus, God glorifies His name. II. LET US NOW OBSERVE ONE OR TWO INSTRUCTIVE CIRCUMSTANCES connected with these three Divine Testimonies. On each occasion Jesus was in prayer. My dear, dear young people, look at the proofs of that in your Bibles. You will find in one or other of the Evangelists that it is distinctly stated on each occasion that our Lord was in prayer. Learn, then, that if any child of God would have God speak comfortably to him, he must speak to God in prayer. If you would have the witness of the Holy Spirit in your soul, you must be much in supplication. Neglect not the Mercy Seat. Notice next that each time the sufferings of Christ were prominently before Him. John, at the waters of Jordan had said, "Behold the Lamb of God," plainly speaking of sacrifice. Baptism itself, the fulfilling of all righteousness, we have seen to be the type of His death, and of His immersion in suffering. On Tabor, on the second occasion, Matthew tells us that, "Behold, there talked with Him two men, which were Moses and Elijah: who appeared in glory, and spoke of His decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem." The subject that the best of men talked about when they met was the death of Jesus. No better topic, then, for us when we meet. If we were the most talented and the wisest men that ever lived, if we met together and wanted the most select topic for an eclectic discussion, we ought to choose the Cross. For Jesus, Moses, and Elijah--three great representative men--talked of the Atoning death of the great Substitute. The third time our Lord had just spoken about the hour being come in which He was to be glorified, as you well remember. Learn then, my Brethren, that if you desire to see the glory of Christ, as attested of the Father, you must dwell much on His death. Do not talk to me about the life of Christ in all its parity, I know it and rejoice in it. But I tell you that the death of Christ, in all His misery, is the grandest point of view. The example of Jesus should be exalted by all means--but His Atonement is far grander. And you, Sirs, who take the Man Christ and offer your pretty, complimentary phrases about Him--but then turn round and deny His expiating Sacrifice--I tell you your tawdry offerings are unacceptable to Him. To be complimented by your lips is almost to be censured, for if you do not believe on Him as an Atoning Sacrifice, you do not understand His life. Thus each attestation came in connection with the Lord's sufferings, as if the glory of Christ dwelt mainly there. Once more--each time that Jesus received this Word from the Father He was honoring the Father. In Baptism He was honoring Him by obedience. On the mountain He was honoring Him in devotion. In the Temple the very words He was using were, "Father, glorify Your name." Oh, if you would see God's glory, and hear God's Voice in your own heart, honor Him! Spend and be spent for Him! Keep not back your sacrifices, withhold not your offerings! Lay yourselves upon His altar, and when you say with Isaiah, "Here am I, send me," for any service--whatever it may be--then shall you also feel that the Lord is with you, owning both you and your works, and glorifying Himself in it. III. Lastly, THE PRACTICAL LESSON may be found in the words, "Hear Him." Earnestly let me speak to everyone here. God has three times with audible Voice spoken out of Heaven to bear witness to Jesus. These are historical facts. I beseech you, then, receive with assured conviction the Truth to which God bears witness. The Man of Nazareth is the Son of the Highest. The Son of Mary is the Savior appointed to bear human sin. He is the way of salvation, and the only way. Doubt not this Truth of God. Accept the Savior, for God declares that He is well-pleased in Him. Hear Him, then, with profound reverence--accept the teaching and invitations of Jesus as not the mere utterances of fallible men--but as the instructions and the loving expostulations of God. I pray you have respect to every Word and command of Christ. Listen to Him as spirits listen to the voice of the Most High when they bow before the Truth of God. And if He says to you, as He does this morning, "Come unto Me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," hear Him and lovingly obey the command. Hear Him, I pray you, with unconditional obedience. God attests Him as being sent from Heaven. Whatever He says to you, do it. And since He bids you believe Him, be not unbelieving. He has told us to say in His name, "He that believes and is baptized, shall be saved." Despise not that double command. Attend, O Sinner, attend, for it is the Son of God who speaks to you! Trust and be baptized, and you shall be saved. There stands the Gospel stamped with the authority of Deity! Obey it now. May the Holy Spirit lead you to do so. Hear Him, lastly, with joyful confidence. If God has sent Jesus, trust Him. If He bears the Glory of God's Seal upon Him, joyfully receive Him. You who have trusted Him, trust Him better from this day forth. Leave your souls right confidently in the hands of Him of whom Jehovah, thrice speaking out of Heaven, declares that He is the only Savior. Receive Him, Sinner, you that would be saved! May the Lord confirm the Testimony which He spoke out of Heaven, by speaking in your hearts by His Holy Spirit, that you may rejoice in His Beloved Son, and glorify God in Him. __________________________________________________________________ Overwhelming Obligations (No. 910) DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" Psalm 116:12. DEEP emotion prompts this question. But where are the depths of love and gratitude that can meet its exuberant demands? You will perhaps remember an incident in the life of a famous soldier, who also became a famous Christian, Colonel James Gardiner. One night he was little thinking of Divine things, but on the contrary had made an appointment of the most vicious kind. He was waiting for the appointed hour when he saw, or thought he saw before him in the room where he sat alone, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the Cross. He was impressed, as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him to this effect--"O sinner, I did all this for you. What have you done for me?" Some such representation as that I would put before the eyes of every person in this assembly. I earnestly pray that the vision of the Christ of God, the mercy of God, the love of God, may appear to all your eyes. And may a Voice say in your conscience, both to saint and sinner, "I did all this for you. What have you done for Me?" It will be a humiliating night probably for us all, if such should be the case--but humiliation may prove salutary--yes, the very healthiest frame of mind in which we can be found. I. I shall first of all this evening, invite you to CAST UP A SUM IN ARITHMETIC. The text suggests this. "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" Come, let us reckon up! Though I know that the number will surpass all human numeration, let us try to reckon up His benefits toward any one of us. I wish each one of you, distinctly and severally, would now endeavor to think of the mercy of God towards yourself. First, let us call over the roll of our temporal mercies. They are but secondary, but they are very valuable. There is a special Providence in the endowment of life to each individual creature. David did not disdain to trace back the hand of God to the hour of his nativity. And Paul adored the Grace of God that separated him from the time that his mother gave him birth. Our gratitude may, in like manner, revert to the days when we hung upon the breast. Or in the case of some, you may thank the goodness that supplied the lack of a mother's tender love. Childhood's early days might then make our thoughts busy, and our tongues vocal with praise. But here we are now. We have been preserved, some of us, these thirty or forty years. We might have been cut down and punished in our sin. We might have been swept away to the place where despair makes eternal night. But we have been kept alive in the midst of many accidents. By some marvelous godsend, death has been turned aside just as it seemed, with a straight course, to be posting toward us. When fierce diseases have been waiting round to hurry us to our last home, we have yet escaped. Nor have we merely existed. God has been pleased to give us food, raiment, and a place where to lay our weary heads. To many here present He has given all the comforts of this life, till they can say, "My cup runs over, I have more than any heart can wish." To all here He has given enough, and though you may have passed through many straits, your bread has been given you, and your water has been sure. Is not this cause for thankfulness? You cannot think of a shivering beggar tonight in the streets, you cannot think of the hundreds of thousands in this unhappy country--unhappy for that reason--who have no shelter but such as the poorhouse can afford them. And no bread but such as is doled out to them as a pauper's meager pittance, without being grateful that you have been, up to now, supplied with things convenient for your sustenance, and defended from that bitter, biting penury which palls self-respect, cows industry, damps the ardor of resolution, chafes the heart, corrodes the mind, prostrates every vestige of manliness, and leaves manhood itself to be the prey of misery and the victim of despair. More than that, we have reason tonight to be very grateful for the measure of health which we enjoy. "It is indeed a strange and awful sensation to be suddenly reduced by the unnerving hand of sickness to the feebleness of infancy. For giant strength to lie prostrate, and busy activity to be chained to the weary bed." Oh, when the bones begin to ache, and sinews and tissues seem to be but roads for pain to travel on, then we thank God for even a moment's rest. Do you not know what it is to toss to and fro in the night and wish for the day, and when the daylight has come, to pine for the night? If there has been an interval of relief, just a little lull in the torture and the pain, how grateful you have been for it! Shall we not be thankful for health, then, and specially so for a long continuance of it? You strong men that hardly know what sickness means, if you could be made to walk the wards of the hospital and see where there have been broken bones, where there are disorders that depress the system, maladies incurable, pangs that rack and convulse the frame, and pains all but unbearable, you would think, I hope, that you had cause enough for gratitude. Not far off this spot there stands a dome--I thank God for the existence of the place of which it forms a part--but I can never look at it. I hope I never shall, without lifting up my heart in thanks to God that my reason is spared. It is no small unhappiness to be bereft of our faculties, to have the mind swept to and fro in hurricanes of desperate, raging madness, or to be victims of hallucinations that shut you out from all usefulness, and even companionship with your fellow men. That you are not in St. Luke's or Bedlam tonight should be a cause for thankfulness to Almighty God. But why do I enlarge here? Consider to what pains the human body may be subjected. Imagine what ills may come upon humanity. Conceive what distress, what woe, what anguish, we are all capable of bearing--and then in proportion as you have been secured from all these, and in proportion on the other hand as you have been blessed with comforts and enjoyments--"let each generous impulse of your nature warm into ecstasy." And then ask yourselves the question, "What shall we render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward us?" Cast up the sum, and then draw a line and ask what is due to God for even these common gifts of Providence. But, my Brothers and Sisters in Christ, you who have something better than this life to rest upon, I touch a higher and a sweeter string--a chord which ought to tremble with a nobler melody, when I say to you--think of the spiritual blessings which you have received! It is not very long ago that you were in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity. We look back but for a little while, some of us, and we were under the bondage of the Law. We had been awakened, and we felt the load and the guilt of sin--a grievous burden from which we feared we never could escape--a flagrant defilement from which we knew no means of cleansing. Do not I remember well my fruitless prayers, my tears that were my meat both day and night, my grief of heart! They cut me to the quick, and I found no kind of deliverance! How I sought the Lord then! How I cried for mercy, but I found none! I was shut up and could not come forth. I was delivered up to fear, and doubt, and despair. Bless the Lord, it is over now! Blessed be the name of God, my soul has escaped like a bird out of the net! And this night, instead of talking of sin as a thing unpardonable, I can stand here and say for you, as well as myself, that He has put away all our iniquity, and cast our transgressions into the depths of the sea! If He had never done anything for us but that, it seems to me that we should be bound forever and forever to extol His name with as much exultation as Miriam and Moses felt, when Miriam took the timbrel, and Moses wrote the song, "Sing unto the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously. The horse and his rider has He cast into the sea. The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation." Not indeed, Beloved, that forgiven sin was the total. It was but an item, the beginning of His tender mercies towards us. For after that He comforted us like as a mother comforts her children. He bound up every wound. He removed every blot. He covered us with a robe of righteousness and decked us with the jewels of the Spirit's Graces. He adopted us into His family, even we who were aliens by nature, foes by long habit, rebels and traitors by our revolt against His government. He made us heirs of God, joint-heirs with Jesus Christ. All the privileges of sonship, which never would have been ours by nature, have been secured to us by regeneration, and by adoption. All His benefits! If these were all, oh, what should we render unto Him who is the Author and Giver of such inestimable blessings? All His benefits! How could we estimate their value, even if we had to stop here? Mark you, they are benefits, indeed, not merely the kind intent of benevolence, or good wishes, which may or may not be of real service to us. But verily the saving effect of beneficence, or good deeds accomplished for us--the full advantage of which we have richly to enjoy. There is a vexatious uncertainty about all human philanthropy. How weak it often is, expending strength for nothing, and failing to mature its best projects! Though the physician should exhaust the resources of medical science while he spares no pains in watching his patient, that patient may die. Though the advocate pleads for his client with intense fer- vor, cogent reasoning, and a torrent of eloquence, that client may yet lose his cause. Though the general of an army command the troops ever so skillfully, and fight against the enemy ever so bravely, the battle may yet be lost. The heroic volunteer who assays to rescue a drowning man may fail in the endeavor and lose his own life in the attempt. The valiant crew that man the lifeboat may not succeed in bringing the shipwrecked to shore. The best aims may miscarry. Kindness, like ore of gold in the breast of the creature, may never be minted into the coin of benefit, or pass current for its real worth. Not all donations expended in charity are effectual to relieve distress. But the benefits of God are all fully beneficial. They answer the ends they are designed to serve. Forgetfulness on the part of God's children is without excuse, for here we are, monuments of mercy, pillars of Grace, living Epistles--yes, the living, the living to praise You, O God, as I do this day. And thus beholden to the Lord for all His benefits, I feel that my thoughts and actions of adoring gratitude should break forth, restrained by no shore, but be continually overflowing every embankment that custom has thrown up, and send out in tears of love and sweat of labor, fertilizing streams on the right hand and on the left. All His benefits! Ring that note again. His benefits are so many, so various, so minute, that they often escape our observation while they exactly meet our wants. True it is, the Lord has done great things for us which may well challenge the admiration of angels. But true it also is that He has done little things for us, and bestowed attention upon all our tiny needs and our childish cares and anxieties. As we turn over the leaves of our diary, we are lost in wonder at the keenness of that vision and the extent of that knowledge whereby even the hairs of our head are all numbered . O God, what infinite tenderness, what boundless compassion You have shown to us! You have continued to forgive our offenses--You have perpetually upheld us in the hour of temptation. What comforts have delighted our soul in the times of trouble! What gentle admonitions have brought us back in the times of our going astray! We have had preserving mercies, sustaining mercies, enriching mercies, sanctifying mercies. Who shall count the small dust of the favors and bounties of the Lord? My dear Brethren, it is no small benefit that God has conferred upon some of us that we are members of a happy Church on earth--that we are united together in the bonds of love. I know some of you used to be members of other Churches where there were periodic conflicts, and you are glad enough that you have come with a loving and happy people where you can serve the Lord to your heart's content. By His Grace you meet with warm-hearted fellow Christians who bid you Godspeed. My heart exults in the thought of all the prosperity we have enjoyed in this place. The Lord's name be praised! Even as a Church, over and above the mercies which have come to us as private Christians, I would say--and I would invite you to join me in saying--"What shall we render to the Lord for all His benefits toward us?" But, Beloved, we have only begun the list of those mercies that we strive in vain to enumerate. We shall not try to finish it, for blessed be God, it never will be finished. He has given us Himself to be our portion. He has given us His Providence to be our guardian. He has given us His promises to be the vouchers of our inheritance. We shall not die, though we must sleep, unless the Lord first comes. Yet we shall sleep in Jesus! Our bones and ashes shall be watched over and preserved until the Resurrection trumpet shall summon them by its voice, and our bodies shall be reanimated by Divine power. For our souls, we have the sure and certain hope that we shall be with Christ where He is, that we may behold His glory. We are looking forward to the blessed day when He shall say to us, "Come up higher," and from the lower room of the feast we shall ascend into the upper chamber, nearer to the King, to sit at His right hand and feast forever. Oh, the depths of His mercy! Oh, the heights of His loving kindness! Faithfulness has followed us. Not a promise has been broken. Not one good thing has failed us! Now, my dear Brothers and Sisters, what have I just given you but a sort of general outline of the mercies the Lord has bestowed on us, and the benefits we have received at His hand? If each one would try to fill that outline up, by the rehearsal of his own case, and the life story of his own experience, how much glory God might get from this assembly tonight! Your case is different from mine in the incidents that compose it. I believe mine is different from any of yours-- but this I know--there is not a man in this place that owes more to God than I do. There is not one here that ought to be more grateful. There cannot be one that is more indebted to the goodness of the Lord than I am for every step of the pilgrimage that I have trod, from the first day even until now. I can, no, I must speak well of His name. Truly God is good, and I have found Him so. "The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeks Him." I have proved Him so. Well, I know all your tongues are itching to say the same. You feel that though He has led you through deep waters, and through fiery trials, and sometimes chastened you very severely, He has not given you over to death. He has dealt with you as a father with His son whom He loves, and been to you as a Friend that never forsakes. You would not breathe half a word against His blessed name. Rather you would say, to borrow an expression which Rutherford constantly used, that you are, "drowned debtors to God's mercy." He meant that he was over head and ears in debt to God--he could not tell how deep his obligations were, so he just called himself, "a drowned debtor" to the loving kindness and the mercy of his God. Well, there is a sum for you. If you want to use your arithmetical faculties, sit down when you can get an hour's quiet, and try to identify all the precious thoughts of God towards you--all His benefits. II. Our second point shall be A CALCULATION OF THE GRATITUDE WHICH IS DUE TO GOD FOR ALL THIS. I should like to make each man his own assessor tonight, to assess the income of mercy which he has received, and put down what should be the tribute of gratitude which he should return to the revenue of the great King. "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits?" Calculate, for a minute, what we owe to God the Father, and what we ought to render Him for the debt. As many as have believed in Christ were chosen of God the Father from before all worlds. He might have left them unchosen. It was His own absolute good pleasure which wrote them in the roll of the elect. He has chosen you, my Brothers and Sisters, that you should be holy, that you should be His children, that you should be made like your elder Brother, Christ Jesus. And because He chose you to this, to this you shall come--though all the powers of earth and Hell should withstand-- for the Divine decree abides immutably steadfast and shall surely be fulfilled. You are God's favorite one, His child, ordained to dwell forever in eternal bliss. What shall we render for this? O let the thought just stir the depths of your soul a minute, if indeed it is so, that the seal of the Everlasting Covenant has been set upon you! Before the sun began to shine, or the moon to march in her courses, God did choose me, in whom there was nothing to engross His love--nothing to attract His favor. O my God, if it is so, that I, of all the sons of Adam, should be made a distinguishing object of Your Grace, and the subject of Your discriminating favor, take me. Take my body, take my soul, take my spirit, take my goods, my talents, my faculties--take all I have, and all I am, and all I ever hope to be--for I am Yours. You have loosed my bonds, but Your mercy has bound me to Your service forever. Now think for a minute of what you owe to God the Son, to Jesus Christ. I mean as many of you as have believed on Him. Think for a moment on the habitation of the highest Glory, and consider how Jesus left His Father's Throne, deserted the courts of angels, and came down below to robe Himself in an infant's clay. There contemplate Him living in our nature. See Him after He has grown up, leading a life of toil and pain, bearing our sicknesses, and carrying our sorrows. Let your eyes look straight into the face of the Man who was acquainted with grief. I shall not ask you to trace all His footsteps, but I would bid you come to that famous garden, where in the dead of the night He knelt and prayed, until in agony, He sweat drops of blood. It was for you, for you, Believer, that there the bloody sweat fell to the ground! You see Him rise up. He is betrayed by His friend. For you the betrayal was endured. He is taken. He is led off to Pilate. They falsely accuse Him. They spit in His face. They crown Him with thorns. They put a mock scepter of reed into His hands--for you all that ignominy was endured! For you, especially and particularly, the Lord of Glory passed through these cruel mockings. See Him as He bears His Cross--His shoulders are bleeding from the recent lashes. See Him, as along the Via Dolo-rosa He sustains the cruel load. He bears that Cross for you. Your sins are laid on His shoulders and make that Cross more heavy than had it been made of iron. See Him on the Cross, lifted up between Heaven and earth, a spectacle of grievous woe. Hear Him cry, "I thirst!" And hear His cry more bitter, still, while Heaven and earth are startled by it, "Why have You forsaken Me, My God, My God?" He is enduring all those griefs for you. For you the thirst and the fainting, the nakedness and the agony. For you the bowing of the head, the yielding up the ghost, the slumber in the cold and silent tomb. For you His resurrection when He rises in the glory of His might, and for you afterwards the ascension into Heaven, when they sing, "Lift up your heads, O you gates, and be you lift up, you everlasting doors." For you His constant pleading at the right hand of the Father. Yes, all for YOU, and what should be done for Him? What tribute shall we lay at the pierced feet? What present shall we put into that nailed hand? Where are kisses that shall be sweet enough for His dear wounds? Where is adoration that shall be reverent enough for His blessed and exalted Person? Daughters of music, bring your sweetest songs! You men of wealth, bring Him your treasures. You men of fame and learning, come lay your laurels at His feet. Let us all bring all that we have, for such a Christ as this deserves more than all. What shall we render, Christ of God, to You for all Your benefits towards us? Let me ask you to think for a moment on the third Person of the blessed Godhead, namely, the Holy Spirit. Let us never forget that when we were like filthy rags His hand touched us. When we were like corrupt and rotten carcasses in the graves of sin, His breath quickened us. It was His hand that led us to the Cross. It was His fingers that took the film from our eyes. It was His eye salve that illuminated us that we should look to Jesus and live. Since that hour the blessed Spirit has lived in our hearts. Oh, what a dreadful place, I was about to say, for God to dwell in! But the Holy Spirit has never utterly left us. We have grieved Him. We have oftentimes vexed Him--but still He is here, still resident within the soul, never departing--being Himself the very life of the living incorruptible seed that abides forever. My dear Friends, how often the Holy Spirit has comforted you! How very frequently in your calm moments has He revealed Christ to you! How often has the blessed Truth been laid home to you with a Divine savor which it never could have had, if it had not been for Him! He is God, and the angels worship Him, and yet He has come into the closest possible contact with you. Christ was Incarnate, and the flesh in which He was Incarnate was pure and perfect. The Holy Spirit was not incarnate, but still He comes to dwell in the bodies of His saints--bodies still impure, still unholy. Oh, what Grace and condescension is this! You blessed Dove, You dear Comforter, You kind Lover of the fallen sons of men--Your condescension is matchless! We love You even as we love Christ Himself, and this night if we ask the question, "What shall we render unto the Lord, the Holy Spirit, for all His benefits towards us?" we know not how to answer, but can only say, "Take us, take us, Holy Spirit. Use us. Fill us with Yourself. Sanctify us to Your holiest purposes. Use us right up--make us living sacrifices, holy and acceptable unto God--for it is our reasonable service." Now perhaps, by God's Spirit, the text may come a little more vividly before your minds. You have had another opportunity of adding up all the benefits of God--another opportunity, dear Brothers and Sisters, of calculating what you ought to do. Give heed, then, for I intend to come, in closing, to be very personal and practical. I wish to speak very pointedly to you as individuals--but there are so many of you that some are sure to slip away in the crowd. I half wish I were in the position of the preacher who had but one hearer, and addressed him as, "Dearly Beloved Roger." I want to put the question of my text as though only one person were here, and that one person, yourself. "What shall I render to the Lord?" Never mind your neighbor, your brother, your sister, your husband, your wife, or anybody else just now. If you are a saved soul, the question for you is, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" "What shall I render?" Suppose, dear Friend, you had been the woman bowed with an infirmity for so many years, and Christ had loosed you, and you had stood upright tonight? What would you render? Well, you HAVE been loosed from your infirmity--a much worse decrepitude than the physical ailment she was released from! Suppose you had been poor blind Bartimeus sitting by the wayside begging, born blind, and you had your sight given you tonight? What would you render? But you HAVE had such a gift bestowed on you. You were in spiritual blindness--worse than that which is only natural--and Christ has opened your eyes! What will you render? Suppose you had been Lazarus, and had been in the grave so long that you began to be corrupt, and Christ had raised you to life? What would you render? Well, you HAVE been quickened when you were dead in sin. You were corrupt. You were buried in darkness and in sin. But you can say with the Psalmist, "O Lord, You have brought up my soul from the grave." Now what will you render to Him? Suppose He stood on this platform tonight, and instead of this poor voice, and these unclean lips, the voice of the Well-Beloved should speak in music to you? And the lips that are like lilies dropping sweet smelling myrrh could talk to each of you? What would you render to Him, then? Well, do the same as though He were here, for He sees you! Yes, and His Spirit, hovering over this assembly, will accept the tribute you give as though He were here in the flesh--or otherwise He will grieve over you and resent the neglect of your heart. Think of Him as being here, and render unto Him as though He were visibly and audibly in our midst. What will you render? Let me ask you, dearly Beloved, whether you have ever thought of what men and women can render. You may have read the lives, I hope you have, of Mr. and Mrs. Judson in Burma, ready to sacrifice all for Christ. Or the lives of our martyrs, in Foxe's Martyrology, who rejoiced if they might burn for Christ. We still have some men and women among us--I wish there were more whose lives of consecration tell you what men can be and do. Are you anything like they are? If not, while they are not what they ought to be, and they fall short of the Master's image, how far short must you be? Oh, I pray you are grieved that it is so, and press the question upon yourselves the more, What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me? A side question may help you. What have you rendered? You are getting old now, or at least you are getting to the prime of life. What have you done for Christ up to this time? Come, look. Look back now, I must urge you to do it. Converted late perhaps, or if converted young, it matters not, still the question must come--What have you done up to now? Oh, I dare not answer the question myself--yet I am not in that respect the worst here--I dare not look back upon my past life of service for God with anything like satisfaction. After having done all that we could do, we are but unprofitable servants. We have not done what was our duty. There is no man here, I fear, who can answer the question, "What have I rendered?" with any self-contentment. We must all drop a tear, feel abashed, and say, "Good Lord, let not the future be as barren as the past, but by Your mercy help us to a better and a nobler sort of living!" May I ask you, as it may assist in answering the question, how old you are? Some of you tell me that you are far advanced in age. Then what must you render in the few years you can have to live? Live hard, Beloved, live hard--live fast in a spiritual sense, for you have little time to use, none to waste. Get as much done as can be done for your dear Lord, before He calls you to His face. You are young, others of you tell me. Oh, then with such a long opportunity as God may give you, you ought to be diligent every moment! If you are not diligent now in your early days, there is no likelihood that you will be afterwards. Since you have the special and peculiar advantage of early piety, O render to the Lord the more, because He has opened before you a wider field, and given you more time to cultivate it than full many of His people have known. Let me ask you, again, What are your capacities? That, perhaps, will help you to answer the question. "Oh," says one, "I cannot do much." Well then, my dear Friend, do the little you can. Do it all--do it up to the very point--do not leave an inch untouched. If you can only do a little, do all of that, and do it heartily. And keep at it till you die. Says another, "Perhaps God has entrusted some talents to me." Then He expects a great deal from the employment of them. O do not let your talents lie idle! Your talents are not meant for your gain, nor merely to serve the world. They are meant to serve your God, who has redeemed you with the precious blood of Jesus. Take care, whether you have much or little, to give Him all. I will put another question to you that may stir your mettle. How did you serve Satan before you were converted? What rare boys some of you were--not sparing body or soul to enjoy the pleasures of sin. Oh, with what zest, with what fervor and force and vehemence did many of you dance to the tune of the devil's music! I wish you would serve God half as well as some of the devil's servants serve him. What? Now you have a new Friend, a new Lover, a new Husband--shall He ever look you in the face and say, "You do not love Me so well as the old. You do not serve Me so zealously"? Shall Jesus Christ say to any man or woman among us, "You do not love Me so well as you did love the world. You were never weary of serving the world, but you do soon get weary of serving Me"? O my poor Heart, wake up! Wake up! What are you doing, to have served sin at such a rate, and then to serve Christ so little? Another question may be to the point. How do you serve yourselves? You are in business, some of you, and I like to see a man of business with his hands full and his wits about him. Your drones, those indolent fellows who go about the shop half asleep, and seem as if they never did wake up, what is the use of them? Men who seem to cumber the earth, men who never did see a snail unless they happened to meet one, for they could not have overtaken it, they travel so slowly-- such men are or little use to God or man. I know that the most of you are diligent in business. You never hear the ring of a guinea without being on the alert to earn it if possible. Your coats are off, and very likely your shirtsleeves are turned up when there is a chance of driving trade. That I commend. But oh, do let us have something like it in the service of Jesus Christ! Do not let us be drudging in the world, and drawling in the Church--lively in the service of mammon, and then laggard in the service of Christ! Heart and soul, manliness, vigor, vehemence--let the utmost strain of all our powers be put forth in the service of Him who was never prone to be slow in the service of our souls when they had to be redeemed. I shall not keep you much longer, but still pressing the same question, let me ask you, dear Friends, how do you think such service as you have rendered will look when you come to see it by the light of eternity? Oh, nothing of life will be worth having lived, when we come to die, except that part of it which was devoted and consecrated to Christ. Live, then, with your deathbeds in immediate prospect. Live in the light of the next world so your pulse will be quickened, and your heart excited in the Master's service. I now put the question, What shall we render? What shall I render unto the Lord? Let the question go all round the pews, and let everybody answer, What shall I render? Is there any new thing I can do for Christ that I never did before? Cannot I speak a word for Christ to somebody tonight? Tonight, because you cannot overtake the loss of a single opportunity. Tomorrow's mercies will bring tomorrow's obligations. Today's obligations must be discharged today. What shall I render tonight? Is there anybody I can speak to of Jesus before I retire to my chamber? It is a little thing, but let me do it! What shall I render? Let me give my God praise tonight somehow. There is the communion table around which we are about to gather. That may help me to render Him some homage. I will there take the cup of salvation, and call upon His name. Tomorrow I shall be in the world going forth to my labors. What shall I render? I will consecrate part of my substance to God, but I will try to consecrate all tomorrow and next day to Him. While I am at my work, if I use a saw, or use a hammer, or if I stand at a counter, or in the fields, or in the streets I will ask that my thoughts may be on God--that I may be kept from sin, and that by my example I may render some tribute of honor to His name in the sight of my fellow men. And I will try to seize every opportunity that comes in my way of telling-- "To sinner round, What a dear Savior I have found." And yet, dear Friends, it is not for me to answer the question that is propounded for you. With these few brief hints I do put the question in all its touching pathos, in all its deep solemnity, in all its momentous gravity, before every Christian man and woman here--and I cite you to answer it before the Searcher of all hearts--"What shall I render?" Thrice happy you who respond in lip and life to the urgent call! "For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labor of love, which you have showed toward His name, in that you have ministered to the saints, and do minister. And we desire that every one of you show the same diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end that you are not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises." As for those of you, my Hearers, who are not yet converted--you who are not saved--this is not the question for you. Your question is, "What must I do to be saved?" and the answer is, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." O believe on Him tonight! Trust Him--that is the point--trust Jesus Christ. You may come to Him and be saved at once. Then, not till then, you will begin to serve Him. May God bless you, my dear Friends, every one of you, for Christ's sake. __________________________________________________________________ The Putting Away Of Sin (No. 911) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JANUARY 16, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Now once in the end of the world has He appeared to put a way sin by the sacrifice of Himself." Hebrews 9:26. WHEN the old dispensation was becoming worn out, and like a vesture ready to be laid aside. When the end of the typical twilight had come, then Jesus Christ came forth from the Father and brought the dawning with Him. When the often appearing of the Aaronic priests had not availed for the putting away of sin, He came whose once appearing perfected the work. As it was said to the master of the feast, "You have kept the best wine until now," so might it be said of the great God of Grace, whose crowning gift to man came late, but not too late, to enrich the banquet of His love. There was a fullness of time before which the Messiah could not be cut off, but when that hour was come He was not slow with His sacrifice--He appeared in the appointed place to make Atonement for human guilt. We have, this morning, to proclaim in the hearing of this congregation an old Truth of God to which you have listened many and many a time. But it is a Truth which should be and will be exceedingly delightful to all those whose consciences are troubled with sin. If there are any here who are conscious of the burden of their past guilt, are quickened so as to be sensitive of the curse, can hear the rolling thunder of the impending wrath of God--to them it will be a great joy to hear of One who can put away sin! It is for such as you are that the great Redeemer in the end of the world came among men. He could not come to put away sin from those who had none, or from those who by their own efforts could put that sin away from themselves. It is, then, for such as you are who are hopelessly sinful. Hopelessly so, I say, if viewed from any aspect short of the work of Jesus Christ. It is for such as you that He has come. If your house were on fire you would rejoice to hear the fire engines coming down the street, for you would feel an absolute certainty that they were coming to you--because your house was in a blaze--if no one's else might be. If there were appointed, today, a commissioner for the relief of such traders as might be in difficulties, whose capital was little, and whose liabilities were great--if you were in that condition you would feel at once that a hope was held out to you--because the commissioner's office supposes a condition of circumstances in which you are found. The news of Christ's coming into the world to put away sin sounds like the joy blasts of the silver trumpets of Jubilee to those who know themselves to be full of sin, who desire to have it put away, who are conscious that they cannot remove it themselves, and are alarmed at the fate which awaits them if the sin is not by some means blotted out. Listen, you anxious ones, and if there are no charms of eloquence about the speaker, and if he seeks out no gaudy words that might draw attention to himself, yet let the theme, so suitable to you, so necessary to you, chain your ear and win your heart! And may God the Holy Spirit make the preaching of Christ to you to be the opening of the prisons to them that are bound. There is one thing in the text which should be sure to hold, as though spell-bound, the attention of every trembling sinner. It is this--the Christ of God, who in the end of the world has appeared, did not come to deny the fact of human sin--to propagate a philosophy which might make sin appear harmless, or define it as a mere mistake, perhaps a calamity, but by no means a Hell-deserving crime. I am sure that every sensitive conscience would loathe such teaching. It could yield no comfort whatever to a soul which had felt sin to be exceedingly sinful. Jesus Christ did not come into the world to help you to forget your sin. He has not come to furnish you with a cloak with which to cover it. He has not appeared that He may so strengthen your minds, (as men would have it), that you may learn to laugh at your iniquities and defy the consequences of them. For no such reason came the Son of Man. He has come not to lull you into a false peace, not to whisper consolation which would turn out to be delusive in the end, but to give you a real deliverance from sin by putting it away and so to bring you a true peace in which you may safely indulge. If sin is put away, then peace is lawful. Then rest of spirit becomes not only a blessing which we may enjoy, but which we must enjoy, and which, the more we shall enjoy the better shall we please our God. O Sinner, the tidings that I bring you this morning are not the mere glitter of a hope that shall delude, not a present relief for the woe you feel, but a real cure for all your ills, a sure and certain deliverance from all the danger that now hangs over you! I. We will proceed at once, then, to deal with our glorious text, and at the outset let us remember that IT IS A VERY HARD THING TO PUT AWAY SIN. Meditate awhile upon this Truth of God, for it will help you to magnify the power, the wisdom, and the Grace of Christ who has put it away. It is a very hard thing to put away sin, all the Jewish sacrifices could not do it. They were very costly--sometimes thousands of bullocks were slaughtered. They were ordained of God Himself. In the tabernacle everything was done according to the pattern seen in the Holy Mount by Moses. In the Temple no sacrifice was presented but according to Divine command. The whole Aaronic ritual was very impressive. The priests in their holy robes, pure white linen garments, the golden altar, candlesticks, and table, the fire, the smoke, the incense. The whole thing was calculated very much to impress the mind. The first Covenant provided a very magnificent service, such as never will be excelled, but for all that--costly, Divinely arranged, impressive--it could not put away sin. And the evidence of this is found in the fact that after one Day of Atonement they needed another atonement next year. Now, if sin had been put away, there would have been an end of sin-offering. There is an end of paying when the debt is discharged--an end of punishment when penalty is fulfilled. There is an end of propitiation when God is satisfied. Why need the fuller cleanse the garment if it is already immaculately white? Why need the refiner cast on fresh fuel if the gold is already rid of all alloy? What need, then, of a further sacrifice for sin if sin is effectually removed? My Brethren, sin was still there. After all the sin-offerings it was not washed away, and such men as David felt this when they cried, "You desire not sacrifice; else would I give it: you delight not in burnt offering." Here were thousands of years, then, of the shedding of the blood of bulls and goats according to Divine command, and yet sin still remained, for its removal was a harder thing to achieve than the blood of bulls and goats could compass. Nor could sin be put away by ceremonies. There were those in our Lord's days who, not content with doing what God had commanded, invented rites and ceremonies of their own, or carried out those commanded in a manner never intended by God. These men practiced washings of all kinds. They fasted and genuflected. They broadened the borders of their garments. They wore phylacteries, they paid tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and so on--and hoped, by carrying out these minutiae and by adding to the traditions of the fathers obediently observed--they might succeed in getting up a righteousness which should cover their sin. But our Lord expressly tells us that this was a complete failure, for though they succeeded in making clean the outside of the cup and the platter, their inward parts were very wickedness. And while they were as outwardly clean as sepulchers that had been newly white-washed, yet their inward parts were full of rottenness. There had been no cleansing of themselves by all that they had done. And it is so now, my dear Hearers--no outward forms can make you clean. The leprosy of sin lies deep within. Not even rites that God has given--I repeat it--not even rites that God has given, can avail, however reverently observed, to remove so much as one single sin. More than this, repentance itself cannot purge a man from sin. If anything could do it, surely this might. Let me not be mistaken--wherever God gives real repentance of sin, there sin is forgiven--for repentance and remission go together. But no man is pardoned because of any merit in his repentance. Repentance is a gift given to us graciously at the same time as remission of sins, but it is not the cause of remission. It comes with it, and is one of the outward evidences of it, but it is by no means the cause of it. Now observe the proof of this in the case of David. David was as penitent as a man could well be. His Penitential Psalms remain forever the most wonderful expressions of a broken heart, yet David nowhere claims forgiveness because of his contrition. Take the fifty-first Psalm as a specimen. David nowhere concludes that he is forgiven because he repents, or that his tears can wash him white. His petition is, "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean"--alluding to the sacrificial blood which was sprinkled by a piece of hyssop. "Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." Nothing about, "/ have washed my couch with tears, and therefore I am whiter than snow. I have made my bed to swim with my heart-sorrow for my transgression, and therefore I am pure." His remorse was very acute, but he never rests on that. He looks to the hyssop. He turns himself to the sacred Fountain of the atoning blood, and there he hopes for cleansing. Ah, dear Hearer, and so must you!-- "Could your tears forever flow, Could your grief no respite know, All for sin could not atone-- Christ must save, and Christ alone." Be it also known that no form of suffering in this world can put away sin. There is a notion, especially among the poorer classes of London, based very much upon a mistaken interpretation of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, that in the next world those who have been very poor, and have suffered a great deal, will as a sort of recompense be taken up to Heaven--while the rich, simply because they were rich, will be sent down to Hell. Such was by no means the teaching of Christ! It is as wide as the poles asunder from His meaning. No, my dear Hearer, you might be as poor as Lazarus, you might even lie as he did on the dunghill with the hounds to lick your wounds--but this would not win you a place in Heaven. Your sufferings here by no means make an atonement for sin. You remember that man who suffered more in body and in estate than any other man that we have ever read of? I mean Job. You remember how all his children were taken away at a stroke? How his property was all destroyed? How he then found himself covered from head to foot with a horrible disease? It was a disease so dreadful that he could not sit in the house, and he betook himself to a dunghill, and laid hold upon a piece of a pot to scrape himself with. Now after he had passed through all that misery and a great deal more, what was his condition? God appeared to him in a whirlwind, and spoke to him--do you find that Job, because of his sufferings stood up before the Lord, and said, "I have suffered all this, and am now clear of all sin"? No, no! He cried in great humility, "I abhor myself in dust and ashes." His sufferings had not made him meritorious. He did not claim anything of the kind, but in the Presence of the Most High he abhorred himself, he humbled himself into the very dust. His confidence was not placed in himself, but in the Savior, for you hear him say, "I know that my Redeemer lives." His hope looked to the Redeemer, and not to the sufferings which he had himself endured. Believe me then, my Friend, you may carry many grievous diseases about you, and endure great poverty and all kinds of afflictions--you might even torture yourself as Romanists and idolaters do--but all that will be of no service to you in the matter of Divine forgiveness. Sin is not to be put away by anything of this sort. Nor, my dear Friends, can any form of self-denial, however terrible it might be, put away sin. Some have fancied that when they have repented of sin after a sort, and forsaken it, that then by denying their bodies, by enduring much physical suffering, they might make atonement. But it is not so. You remember how the Prophet asks what man shall give that he may be accepted with God. "Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God? Shall I come before Him with burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" That last question reaches far into the realm of self-sacrifice. "Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" Yet even this would be of no avail. We read of fathers and mothers in heathen countries who give their children up to idols. Our hearts are shocked by the story of Moloch--believed to have been a huge image of hollow brass in which a great fire was lighted until it became red hot--and then parents brought their first-born babes and placed them in the red hot arms of this God--that they might there be consumed to ashes. I say when you hear of this, you think what cruel monsters they must have been! Ah, it was not so! Many of those fathers were as loving to their children as you are, and the mothers as affectionate as mothers now present. But they felt an awful sense of sin and believed that this would please God and put away sin. Therefore doing violence to all that was affectionate and tender within their nature, they gave the fruit of their body for the sins of their soul. And what a thought it is that when they had performed this hideous self-denial and made themselves wretched for life, desolating their family hearth by giving up their dearest ones to die--still no sin had been put away even then, not one! The spot remained indelible though washed with the blood of their own child. No, my Hearer, sin is not easily put away. It may impress our minds if we remember further that holy living does not put away past sin. If from this day forth we should live after the commandments of the Law blamelessly, and walk before the Lord with all devotion, and before men with all uprightness, yet it would not put away past sin. And the proof of this is to be found in the fact that those men who have lived after the best fashion, undoubtedly the best men in the world, have declared that their consciences were not satisfied with themselves, and that until they looked away from themselves they did not experience anything like satisfaction. More memorable, still is the fact that death does not put away sin. Death puts away a great deal. A man dies, and if he has no estate his debts die with him. And many a hard thought that we had of our fellow man we bury in his tomb. But death never kills a single sin. Sin is immortal until the immortal Christ comes to deal with it. Sin stands like the everlasting hills and will not move from its place till He that made Heaven and earth casts the mountain into the sea of His Atonement. No, the rich man died and was buried, but no sin of his was buried, for in Hell he lifted up his eyes, and his sins were there to torture and to condemn him. Another thought is equally solemn--namely, that Hell itself cannot put away sin. There are the devil and his angels for whom Hell was made, for whom the fire was first kindled, and its pit first dug. But they are as great sinners after these six thousand years as they were when first they were cast down from Heaven. And so those lost ones whose spirits have been in Hell since the time of Noah's flood--they are still sinners--and after all the ages of suffering they have endured not a sin less is upon them now than there was at first. Ah, dreadful thought! If you and I are ever cast into Hell, though ages on ages may lapse and the wrath of God is poured out upon us to the uttermost, there will never be the destruction of a single sin or particle of a sin by it all. Sin cannot be put away until the penalty is borne to the end, and that can never be by finite man. What a work was here, then, for the only begotten Son of God to do! Speak of the labors of Hercules! They were nothing compared with the labors of Emmanuel. Speak of miracles! To tread the sea, to hush the billows, to heal the sick, to raise the dead-- these are all bright stars--but their light is hid when compared with this miracle of miracles--when the Sun of Christ's righteousness arises with healing beneath His wings, and thick clouds of sin are put away by Him. Think of the difficulty, then, and adore the Christ who accomplished the task. Before I leave this point I beseech each one here to consider the difficulty of putting away sin in his own case. In any case difficult enough, in mine, in yours, my Brethren, how peculiarly so! Our sins trail their horrid length from side to side for many years. Our sins are aggravated, they are piled-up sins. Ours are sins against light and knowledge, against conscience, against vows and resolution. Our sins are sins repeated after we had tasted of their bitterness--foul sins, sins it may be of the sort which bring the blush to the cheek--sins that made us toss on our beds as we remembered them with dread, and yet sins that we returned to as the dog returns to its vomit. Oh, our monster sins! Our horrible sins! Our damnable sins! There was a difficulty, indeed, in putting these away. May you feel this deeply in your hearts, and you will be the more heartily ready to appreciate our next doctrine. II. The second great Truth is one that is full of joy, namely, that Christ HAS PUT AWAY THE SIN OF ALL HIS PEOPLE. You notice that the word "sin" is in the singular, and for that reason, standing as it does, alone, without a qualifying word, it is the more comprehensive. Sin is regarded as one great evil, and Christ has put it away. When the Lord Jesus Christ appeared at the end of the world, all the sins of His people were made to meet in one tremendous mass. Jesus Christ suffered all this to be imputed to Him. "The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity"--as if it were but one-- "the iniquity of us all." There it was, and He was accounted as if He had committed it all. In Gethsemane, and on the Cross He endured the penalty due for all the sin of His people, or rather the death which God had stipulated should stand as an equivalent for the sufferings of all the guilty ones for whom He stood. He suffered all that--and by that suffering He put away the sin, the whole mass, the whole mountainous mass of the sin of all those for whom He stood as a Substitute--and for whom He suffered the penalty. Sin was completely put away, everlastingly put away, when Jesus gave up the ghost, rose from the dead, and entered into His Glory. I beg you to notice the expression used by our translators. The expression in the Greek is more forcible, and I will deal with that directly. He has "put away" sin. This phrase in the English version is used in reference to an unfaithful wife when she was "put away." Her husband gave her a bill of divorcement, and she was no longer his. Until that deed of divorcement was made she was his lawful wife, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, and under the Law they were regarded as one--their property and estate one. But as soon as ever a lawful divorce was given, she had no relation to him any more than any other woman. She was utterly disowned, she had no further claim on him whatever. The separation was complete. Now, sin before Christ comes, is, as it were, married to us. The foul thing pollutes us. For its filthiness we are responsible, we have committed it. It is linked with us so as to be, as it were, bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. But, oh, the blessedness of the fact! Christ has proclaimed an everlasting divorce between our souls and our sins! He has put our sins away so that we are no longer knit to them, and their dread responsibility lies no longer upon us. He stands to bear the responsibility of our sin on our behalf, and our personal liabilities cease. Be they what they may, they are not charged on us. "Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputes not iniquity." He had iniquity, but it is no longer imputed to him. His sins are now no longer his, any more than a man's wife when lawfully divorced is any longer his. There is a total separation between the Believer and all his old sins, a legal separation too, fully justified and complete. "Putting away" is used in another sense. Jacob commanded his sons to put away the false gods that were among them. We find Josiah putting away Baal and all the false gods of Israel. Now you know how they acted when they put away false gods. There was a search throughout all the house to find out every teraphim, and every image, and every symbol that had been an object of reverence. I think I see Jacob if he had found a teraphim, throwing it out of the tent door with indignation. And if he saw it lying at a distance, for fear lest any of his sons or his servants should take it up and reverence it again, the Patriarch would go and spurn it with his foot. Or perhaps he would take it up, and finding his hammer, dash it in pieces, and throw the very dust of it away, as Moses ground the golden calf to pieces and threw the fragments in the water. Or as the young Josias did, who, not content with breaking down the altars, broke the images, themselves--utterly destroyed them. Now in this way has Christ put away His people's sins. He has utterly demolished them, made a clean sweep of them all, thrown them right away, broken them, destroyed them, and so put them away. "Putting away" may be illustrated in yet another manner. The Israelites were commanded on the feast of the Passover to put away all leaven out of their houses, and to this day they are very scrupulous about the fulfillment of that command at the time of that great festival. The house is very carefully swept lest a crumb of common leavened bread should remain. The cupboards are ransacked, drawers emptied carefully and swept with a little brush. And then the master of the house will go through every department of the house to see that no trace of leaven should remain. All leaven must be put away that they may keep the feast with unleavened bread. Now Jesus Christ, in this same way, has put away sin. There might have been a sin left in some secret region of my heart, or soul, or conscience, or memory--hidden in a dark department of my nature--and that little sin would have ruined me. But Jesus put it all away--every crumb and particle of the horrible leaven Christ has swept right out. He altogether and utterly put away sin by His once appearing. If you are a Believer in Christ, my dear Friend, the putting away of sin for you does not consist in the forgiveness of here and there a great sin--in the plunging into the Red Sea of His blood of here and there a monster iniquity. But all your sins--every size, shape, form, hue, degree, or fashion--are altogether gone. Crimson sins, black sins, crying sins, every sort of iniquity from your childhood until now, and right on till you enter into the rest of the Beloved--they were all taken and laid upon Christ. He made an end of them all when He offered up His great expiatory Sacrifice. He has put away sin as a whole for His chosen. This is a glorious Truth! If we know that it belongs to us and that our sin was put away--it is enough to make us anticipate the joy of Heaven, and sing the new song--"Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us kings and priests unto God and His Father. To Him be glory and dominion forever and ever." The Greek word, however, is more expressive than the English. I believe it is only used in one other place in the New Testament. And as far as Greek works extant are concerned, it is never used in any other volume. It is a word coined by the Apostle, a perfectly regular word, but still made by himself to suit his theme. Though the Greek was a copious language, yet when the Holy Spirit was in the Apostle there were not sufficient words extant to express all His meaning. This word is used in another place, in Hebrews 7:18, and is there translated "disannulling," to signify an abrogation, a total abolition, an annihilation. That word will do. Christ was revealed in the end of the world to abrogate, to annihilate, utterly to abolish sin. Now we all know what it is to have a thing abrogated. Certain laws have held good up to the first of January of this year with regard to the hiring of public carriages. But now we are under a new law. Suppose a driver complies with the new Law, gets his license, puts up his flag, gives the passenger his card of prices, and afterwards the passenger summons him before the magistrate for asking a fare not authorized by the old law? The magistrate would say, "You are out of court, there is no such law. You cannot bring the man here, he has not broken the old law, for he is not under it. He has complied with the requisition of the new law, by which he declares himself no longer under the old rules, and I have no power over him." So he that believes in Christ Jesus may be summoned by conscience when misinformed before the bar of God, but the answer of peace to his conscience is, "You are not under the Law, but under Grace." "Christ is the end of the Law for righteousness to everyone that believes." "All that believe are justified from all things, from which you could not be justified by the Law of Moses." In this way Christ has abrogated the sin of his people. By what image shall I set forth the abolishing of sin? I do not know what metaphor to use about it, but one suggests itself which is far from complete, but may help somewhat. When Pompey was killed, Julius Caesar obtained possession of a large casket which contained a vast amount of correspondence which had been carried on with Pompey. There is no doubt whatever, that in that casket were many letters from certain of Caesar's followers making overtures to Pompey, and had Caesar read those letters it is probable that he would have been so angry with many of his friends that he would have put them to death for playing him false. Fearing this, he magnanimously took the casket and destroyed it without reading a single line. What a splendid way of putting away and annihilating all their offenses against him! Why, he did not even know them! He could not be angry, for he did not know that they had offended. He consumed all their offenses and destroyed their iniquities, so that he could treat them all as if they were innocent and faithful. The Lord Jesus Christ has made just such an end of your sins and mine. Does not the Lord know our sins, then? Yes, in a certain sense, and yet the Lord declares, "their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more." In a certain sense, God cannot forget, but in another sense, He Himself declares that He remembers not the sins of His people, but has cast them behind His back. "The iniquities of Israel," says He, "shall be sought for, and there shall be none. And the sins of Judah, and they shall not be found." An accusing spirit might have said to Caesar, "Do you not know that Caius and Florius were deeply involved with your enemy, Pompey?" "No," he replies, "I know nothing against them." "But in that casket there is evidence." "Ah," rejoins the hero, "there remains no casket, I have utterly destroyed it!" The metaphor fails because it does not set forth the perfectly legal way in which Jesus has made an end of sin by suffering its penalty. Justice has been satisfied, punishment has been meted out for every sin of mine and yours if we are Believers. And the whole matter has been accomplished, not by an evasion of Law, but by a fulfillment of it, meeting justice face to face and satisfying vengeance and putting away sin. Take another illustration, common enough, but quite to the point. A debt is annihilated when it is paid, so the debts that we owed to justice were abrogated, annihilated and ceased to be because Jesus Christ, to the utmost farthing, paid whatever His people owed. Now, child of God, I want you to turn this Truth over and over in your mind. Jesus Christ has put away your sin, all of it, all of it, in all respects. Before God you are accepted as if you were innocent. You are even regarded as if you were something more than innocent, namely, actively righteous. Your sin is so put away that now you are deprived of nothing that sin deprived you of. You have the access which sin once prohibited. You enjoy the favor of God, and nearness to God, and relationship to God, even as if you had never fallen. When sin was put away, all the effects of sin, in detriment and loss to us before God, were virtually put away from the pardoned one. Think of that and rejoice. Moreover, your sin is put away forever. Do not fall into the idea it ever can return. "The gifts and calling of God are without repentance," that is to say, on His part. The eternal God never says and unsays, never plays fast and loose with a soul. If you are pardoned, then you are so pardoned that none ever can condemn you in time or in eternity. "As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us." Oh, what bliss is this! Do not so much listen to me as let your heart suck out the sweetness of this Truth. If it is indeed so, what peace you ought to have! Are you tried and afflicted? Remember how Luther said, "Lord, strike, for I am forgiven," as if he thought it mattered little what he suffered now that his sin was gone. Nothing ought to make you suspend your song of praise, O pardoned Sinner! You can never go down into the pit. God can never be so wrath with you as to forsake you utterly. You are saved! You have an entailed estate beyond the river--there is a crown in the King's palace which no head but yours can ever wear. And a harp that your fingers must strike with seraphic joy. O you banished ones, in the midst of your exile still sing the songs of Zion in anticipation of the time when you shall sing them without groans to mar their melody! III. We shall open up to you, dear Friends, with very much brevity, HOW SIN WAS PUT AWAY. The text tells us that our Lord put it away by a Sacrifice. It is that cardinal doctrine of the Christian religion that sin is pardoned through a Sacrifice. Substitution is the very essence and marrow of the Revelation of God. The Lord Jesus Christ stood in the place of the sinner and was made a bloody Sacrifice for sin. Even as the sacrificed lamb poured out its life-blood, so did He give up His life to redeem our lives. Now, dear Friends, you who are seeking peace today, remember that the place where you will find light for your darkness is where Christ made Himself a Sacrifice for sin. Your comfort will not arise from studying His most pure and admirable life, but by considering His painful substitutionary death. He was made sin for you, though He knew no sin, that you might be made the righteousness of God in Him. He was made to die a death of pain, ignominy, and anguish, and to pour out His blood that you might not feel the sword of vengeance on account of your sins. Notice that the text tells us what His sacrifice was--it was Himself. Sin was not put away by the offering of His living works, nor by the incense of His prayer, nor by the oblation of His tears--nor even by the presentation of His pains and groans before God-- but by the sacrifice of HIMSELF. The Lord Christ gave up for you His human Body and Soul and Spirit--all that constituted "Himself" was given up freely to the death--that the punishment due to our sin might be borne. Dwell on this thought--the sacrifice of Himself. This leads you to remember who He was. He was God over all, blessed forever. The Maker of all worlds, but He gave Himself. See the majesty of His sacrifice! He gave Himself And then behold the infinite merit that there must be in that Sacrifice. Had He been a mere man--the death of one innocent man for another may be supposed to have been an atonement for one man. But because He was infinite in His nature, there was infinite merit in His sufferings. Doubts, however black they may be, ought to subside when we perceive that the Atonement made must have been infinitely meritorious, because it was not an Atonement of mere tears and blood and works, but an Atonement made by the Lord's giving up Himself, His very Self, that He might put away sin. Ah, my Brethren, I can trust an infinite Savior to put away my sin. If I were told that there was this and that to be done by some human priest to put away my sin, I should be afraid that perhaps their efforts would not answer the designed end. But if my sin is put away because God Himself dwelt among men, and suffered in human flesh in my place, I can believe, and will believe, and rest in peace-- "My soul can on this doctrine live, Can on this doctrine die." Here is solid ground work for the most guilty, heavy-laden sinner to build a cheerful hope for eternity! Note well that there is not a word here or anywhere else in Scripture about any renewed and repeated sacrifice. The Roman Catholic church tells us that they continue to present the sacrifice of Christ in the unbloody sacrifice of the "mass." But this is a mere invention of their priests! Our Lord once appeared to put away sin, and thereby perfected forever them that are sanctified. What are you doing, you pretenders to His name? Would you add to what is perfect? Do you put sin away again after the great High Priest has put it away once and for all? Away, you sons of Antichrist! Observe, also, that nothing is said about sins ever coming back again. He has put sin away, there is no hint given that it will ever want putting away a second time. He has appeared and put it away finally, totally, eternally. Where, then, is the sin of His people? It is so put away that it is not possible to find it, even if it is searched for, nor can it ever return. Moreover, not a syllable is uttered concerning anyone helping the Lord Jesus to put away sin. He came to put away sin, but it is not added that others joined in the work--neither is it said that it is done if the sinner's tears should flow, or if he should feel deeply, or if he should act worthily, or if he should be obedient. Not at all! It is nakedly and boldly declared that He has put it away. Now, on the Cross, my dear Hearer, Christ either put all your sins away, or He did not. If He did not, you will live and die in unbelief--if He did--nothing of yours is needed to make the Atonement perfect. All you have to do is to ascertain your part and lot in the great Atonement. "And," says one, "How can I ascertain my portion in it?" You may know by this one thing--Do you believe in Jesus? Do you trust Him? This is the evidence that your sin has ceased to be, and that before you were born, Christ put it away forever. If so, you need not this day be bowed down about it, or go mourning and troubled as though it even now condemned you. If you believe, rest assured that God loved you from before the foundations of the world. You are viewed in Christ Jesus as clear before the Law. In the Person of the Only Begotten you are accepted in the Beloved. The love of God looked on you in Christ ages ago, before you could look on it or understand it, and in the fullness of time your sins were foreseen, and their penalty endured by your Redeemer. Methinks I hear, then, this enquiry put, How may I share in this blessed result of the putting away of sin? The answer is, Brethren, the way for us to enjoy a share in it must evidently be one in which we do not, even by implication, seem to claim a part in the putting away of sin. If you think you can get a part in this gracious result by your own feelings or doings, you dishonor the perfect work of Christ, and so you make a gulf between you and Christ. The only test as to whether Christ put your sin away is this-- Have you done with all idea of putting the sin away yourself? Are you willing that He should have the whole, sole, and entire glory of putting it away? Will you now trust Him with your whole heart to put your sin away? Well, Soul, there never was a man yet who gave up confidence in everything but Christ, and relied completely and heartily upon Christ, but who had, in that fact an assurance that Jesus loved him, and gave Himself for him! "Oh," says one," I have done that, then, years ago." Rejoice, then! Be glad, and out of love to Jesus go and perform works of holiness to honor Him by Whom you are saved. Rejoice all your days, and praise the name of Him that has washed you. Do not, O you pardoned ones, kneel down every Sunday morning and night, and wail out the cry that you are "miserable sinners"! You ought not to be miserable sinners, now that you are forgiven, justified, adopted, and made one with Christ! You are sinners, but why miserable? To those Believers who call themselves "miserable sinners," the Lord might well reply, "You do not, then, believe Me. Have I not pardoned you, and declared that there is no condemnation for you? Is this your only gratitude? Is there no joyful thankfulness? Nothing but sullen misery?" Blessed be God, such a form of service is little suitable for Believers in Jesus, though very fitting for those who trust their baptismal regeneration! Our gladsome lips have learned-- "Oh, how sweet to view the flowing Of ourSa vior'sprecious blood, With Divine assurance knowing He has made our peace with God." Sin is gone, gone forever! Go, Believer, and rejoice! But do I hear another say, "O that I could know assuredly that my sin was put away. I gladly would trust the Savior, but the question is, may I trust Him?" That, my Friend, need not be a question. He commands you to trust Him. "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." "He that believes and is baptized shall be saved. But he that believes not shall be damned." You are threatened if you do not believe, therefore take courage, Man, and trust Christ now. "What? And having lived a sinful life up till now, if I, indeed trust Him, will that sinful life be blotted out? Must I not at least go home and begin to read my Bible and spend a month in preparation?" Delay not! Today, if you will hear His voice, harden not your heart. Trust Him now! Saul of Tarsus was struck down at once, in the midst of sin, and saved. The dying thief had not to be taken down from the Cross and laid up in hospital till he passed through a probation. He prayed the prayer, "Lord, remember me!" And he received the answer, "Today shall you be with Me in Paradise." The pardon of sin is instantaneous. It is not a matter of even minutes or seconds. "There is life in a look at the Crucified One." One glance of your soul's eye at a crucified Savior and the simple reliance of your spirit upon Him, and you are saved beyond all risk. The Lord grant you, by His Holy Spirit's aid, to do this today, and I know you will go away to be among the dearest lovers of my Master, and among the most careful of His servants, for you will love Him too well to disobey Him. And it will be your joy from this time forth, even forever, to honor Him. Methinks I hear you say, "I who was the chief of sinners was met with when I least expected it by my gracious Savior, while listening to the Gospel. And I was forgiven in a moment through a simple act of faith. And now here I am, my Lord's servant, to live and to die for Him if He will but give me Grace to do so." The Lord grant it, for His name's sake! Amen. __________________________________________________________________ The Glorious Hereafter and Ourselves (No. 912) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JANUARY 23, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Now He that has worked us for the same thingis God, who also has given unto us the earnest of the Spirit." 2 Corinthians 5:5. IT is a very comforting thing to be able to see the work of God in our own hearts. We can clearly enough perceive the effects of the Fall--the workings of our inward corruption are always sufficiently perceptible. We have not to search long for the foul handiwork of Satan within us, for his temptations vex us day by day, and too often wound us to our dismay. The evil influences of the world are also exceedingly apparent to the eyes of self-examination. It is, therefore, consoling to the highest degree when, amidst all this disfiguring of the vessel by the hands of evil, we can see growing traces of the Great Artist's hand still fashioning the clay upon the wheel and undoing the mischief of His enemies. It is a sweet thing to be able to say with the Apostle that God has worked us to the most grand of all designs. When the Creator of the world puts His all-wise hands to the work of our new creation, we are favored in the highest degree, and ought to be filled with gratitude. It appears from the text that the Apostle found the indications of the Divine work in a groan. Observe, "We that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened." In that groan of his burdened soul he saw the working of the eternal God, and he exclaimed, "He that has worked us for the same thing is God." Believers may trace the finger of God in their holy joys when the soul, like the lark, mounts up towards Heaven and carols her song of gratitude. But, just as surely is the Holy Spirit present in their sorrows for sin, their inward conflicts, their hungering and thirsting after righteousness, their deep-fetched sighs, and their groans which cannot be uttered. My Brethren, so long as it is the work of God it is comparatively a small matter to us whether our hearts' utterance is song or sigh. Let us be assured that it is worked by the Spirit, and either the one or the other is a token for good. If it is but proven that "the Lord is there," we hear a voice which says, "It is I, be not afraid." Our text brings before us a great work of God with a distinct object--our being "clothed upon with our house which is from Heaven." And looking at the words minutely, we see that the one design is accomplished by three great processes. The Lord has worked in us desires after the heavenly Glory. "He that has worked us for the same thing is God." The Apostle had twice over spoken of groaning after the heavenly House, and we understand him here to affirm that this groaning was worked in him by God. Secondly, the Lord has worked in us a fullness for the eternal world, for so the text may be understood. "He that has fitted us for" the heavenly inheritance of which the Spirit is the earnest. Then thirdly, God has given to Believers, in addition to desires after and fitness for an earnest of the Glory to be revealed, which earnest is the Holy Spirit. Let us speak of these three things as the Holy Spirit may instruct us. God's work is seen in our souls in causing us exciting, vehement DESIRES AFTER being "clothed upon with our house which is from Heaven." This earnest desire, of which the Apostle has been speaking in the preceding verses, is made up of two things--a painful groaning and sense of being burdened while we are in this present life, and a supreme longing after our promised portion in the world to come. Dissatisfaction with the very idea of finding a continuing city here, amounting even to groaning, is the condition of the Christian's mind. "We look not at the things which are seen," they are not worth a glance. They are temporal and therefore quite unfit to be the joy of an immortal spirit. The Christian is the most contented man in the world, but he is the least contented with the world. He is like a traveler in an inn, perfectly satisfied with the inn and its accommodation, considering it as an inn, but putting quite out of all consideration the idea of making it his home. He waits by the way, and is thankful, but his desires lead him ever on- ward towards that better country where the many mansions are prepared. The Believer is like a man in a sailing vessel, well content with the good ship for what it is, and hopeful that it may bear him safely across the sea, willing to put up with all its inconveniences without complaint. But if you ask him whether he would choose to live on board in that narrow cabin, he will tell you that he longs for the time when the harbor shall be in view, and the green fields, and the happy homesteads of his native land. We, my Brethren, thank God for all the appointments of Providence--whether our portion is large or scant we are content because God has appointed it--yet our portion is not here, nor would we have it here if we might!-- "We've no abiding city here, Sad truth were this to be our home." No thought would be more dreadful to us than the idea of having our portion in this life, in this dark world which refused the love of Jesus, and cast Him out of its vineyard. We have desires which the whole world could not fulfill. We have insatiable yearnings which a thousand empires could not satisfy. The Creator has made us to pant and long after Himself, and all the creatures put together could not delight our souls without His Presence-- "Hopeless of joy in anything below, We only long to soar, The fullness of His love to feel, And lose His smile no more." In addition to this dissatisfaction, there reigns within the regenerate heart a supreme longing after the heavenly state. When Believers are in their right minds, their aspirations after Heaven are so forcible that they despise death itself. When faith is weak, then the pains and the groans of dying make a black cloud of forebodings which darken the spirit, and we shrink from the thought of departing. But when we know that our Redeemer lives, and look forward to the Resurrection and to the Glory to be revealed, we cry-- "Oh, if my Lord would come and meet, My soul should stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless through death's iron gate, Nor fear the terrors as she passed." Whatever the separation of the soul from the body may involve of pain or mystery, the Believer feels that he could dare it all to enter at once into the unfading joys of Heaven. Sometimes the heir of Heaven grows impatient of his bondage. Like a captive looking out of the narrow window of his prison beholds the green fields of the unfettered earth, and marks the flashing waves of the ocean, ever free--and hears the songs of the free tenants of the air--he weeps as he views his narrow cell and hears the clanking of his chains. There are times when the most patient of the Lord's banished ones feel the home sickness strong upon them. Like those beasts which we have sometimes seen in our menageries, which pace to and fro in their dens, and chafe themselves against the bars--uneasy, unhappy, bursting out every now and then into fierce roars--as though they yearned for the forest or the jungle. Even so we also chafe and fret in this, our prison, longing to be free. As by the waters of Babylon the sons of Zion sat down and wept, even so do we. Dwelling in Kedar's tents and sojourning with Mesech, we long for the wings of a dove that we might fly away and be at rest-- "O my sweet home, Jerusalem, Would God I were in you! Would God my woes were at an end, Your joys that I might see." Having thus seen that the groaning worked in us by God is made up of dissatisfaction with this world and anxious desire for the world to come, we may profitably consider it yet a little further. What is it that makes the Christian long for Heaven? What is that within him which makes him restless till he reaches the better land? It is, first, a desire for the unseen. The carnal mind is satisfied with what the eyes can see, the hands can handle, and the taste enjoy. But the Christian has a spirit within him which has passions and appetites which the senses cannot gratify. This spirit has been created, developed, enlightened, and instructed by the Holy Spirit, and it lives in a world of unseen realities of which unregenerate men have no knowledge. While in this sinful world and earthly body, the spirit feels like a citizen exiled from his native land. It stands upon the outmost borders of its own region and longs to penetrate into the center of spiritual things. Hampered with this body of clay, the spirit, which is akin to angels, cries after liberty. It longs to see the Great Father of Spirits, to commune with the bands of the pure spirits forever surrounding the Throne of God, both angels and glorified men. It longs, in fact, to dwell in its true element. A spiritual creature, begotten from above can never rest till it is present with the Lord. Oh, to see the things which we have heard of in metaphor and simile, to enjoy them really with our spirits! The harps, the crowns, the palms--what must it be to possess such joys? The streets of transparent gold, the river of the water of life, the glassy sea, the Throne of the Great King--what must all these be? Until these joys and glories be all our own, our souls will always cry and sigh. Moreover, the Christian spirit pants after holiness. He who is born again of incorruptible seed finds his worst trouble to be sin. While he was in his natural state he loved sin, and sought pleasure in it. But now, being born of God and made liken to God, he hates sin. The mention of it vexes his ears. The sight of it in others causes him deep sorrow--the presence of it in his own heart is his daily plague and burden. If he could be rid of sin, this mortal body might not be to him a load. But because the tendencies of the animal passions are always towards evil, he longs to be rid of this vile body so that he may be clothed with his House which is in Heaven--from which all these passions will be expelled. Oh, to be without the tendency to sin, without the possibility to sin! What bliss the prospect affords! My Brethren, if we could be placed in the meanest and most destitute condition, and yet could be perfect, we would prefer it to being sinful, even though we should reign in the palaces of kings. Our spirit, therefore, cries after the immortal state, because sin will be forever banished from it. In the Christian's spirit there is also a sighing after rest. "There remains a rest for the people of God," as though God had put in us the longing for what He has prepared. We labor daily to enter into that rest. Brethren, we long for rest, but we cannot find it here. "This is not our rest." We cannot find rest even within ourselves. Wars and fights are continuous within the regenerate spirit. The flesh lusts against the spirit, and the spirit wars against the flesh. As long as we are here it must be so. We are in the camp of war, not in the chamber of ease. The trumpet must sound, and the clash of arms must be heard. We must go to our watchtower and continue there both night and day, for we are militant as yet, and not triumphant. Our soul pines to be at rest. When shall the rowers of our spirit indulge themselves to the full without the fear of falling into sin? When shall my memory remember nothing but what will glorify God? When shall my judgment always rightly balance all events? When shall my desires be after nothing but my Lord? When shall my affections cling to nothing but Him? O when shall I possess the rest of the sinless, the rest of the satiated, the rest of the secure, the rest of the victorious? This longing for rest helps to inflame the Christian's desires for the House not made with hands. This Divinely-worked desire is made up of another element, namely, a thirst for communion with God. Here, at the nearest, our state is described as being "absent from the Lord." We do enjoy fellowship with God, for, "Truly our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ," but it is remote and dark. "We see through a glass darkly," and not as yet face to face. We have the smell of His garments from afar, and they are perfumed with myrrh, and aloes, and cassia--but as yet the King is in His ivory palaces--and the gate of pearl is between us and Him. O that we could come to Him! O that He would even now embrace us, and kiss us with the kisses of His mouth! The more the heart loves Christ, the more it longs for the greatest possible nearness to Him. Separation is very painful to a bride whose heart is burning for the bridegroom's presence. And such are we--longing to hear the most sweet voice of our Spouse and to see the countenance which is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. For a saved soul to long to be where its Savior is, is no unnatural desire! To be with Him is far better than earth's best, and it would be strange if we did not long for it. God, then, has worked in us this in all its forms. He has made us to dread the thought of having our portion in this life. He has created in us a supreme longing for our heavenly Home, has taught us to value unseen and eternal things, to pant after holiness, to sigh after sinless rest, and to yearn after closer fellowship with God in Christ Jesus. My Brethren, if you have felt a desire such as I have described, give the glory of it to God! Bless and love the Holy Spirit who has worked this same thing in you, and ask Him to make the desires yet more vehement, for they are to His glory. Bear with a word in praise of this God-worked groaning. This desire after the world to come is above ordinary nature. All flesh is grass, and the grass loves to strike its root deep into the earth. It has no tendrils with which to clasp the stars. Man by nature would be content to abide on earth forever. If you long for a holy and spiritual state, your desire is not of nature's creation. God has worked it in you. Yes, I will venture to say that the desire for Heaven is contrary to nature. For as there is an inertia in matter which makes it indisposed to move, so is there in human nature an indisposition to leave the present for the future. Like the snail, we stick to the rock on which we crawl. We cling to earth like the ivy to the wall. We are afraid to set sail upon that unknown sea of eternity, and therefore shiver on the shore. We dread to leave "the warm precincts of this house of clay," and hovel as this body is, we count it dear. It is the Lord who forbids our lying among the pots and gives us the wings of a dove to mount aloft. As soon would a clod seek the sun as a soul seek its God, if a miracle of Grace were not worked upon it. While they are contrary to the old nature, such aspirations prove the existence of the new nature. You may be quite sure that you have the nature of God in you if you are pining after God. And if your longings are of a spiritual kind, depend upon it--you are a spiritual man. It is not in the animal to sigh after mental enjoyments, neither is it in the mere carnal man to sigh after heavenly things. What your desires are, that your soul is. If you are really insatiably hungering after holiness and after God, there is within you that which is liken to God, that which is essentially holy. There is, indeed, a work of the Holy Spirit within your hearts. I shall detain you awhile to notice the means by which the Holy Spirit quickens these desires within our spirits. This desire after a portion in the unseen world is first infused in us by regeneration. Regeneration begets in us a spiritual nature, and the spiritual nature brings with it its own longings and desires. These longings and desires are after perfection and God. Imagine an angel imprisoned in a stable--it is perfectly certain that it would be discontent with the place where the horned oxen lay. If it felt that the Divine will commanded it to tarry there for awhile, I doubt not that the bright visitant would contentedly put up with the confinement. But if it had liberty to leave the society of beasts, how gladly would the bright spirit ascend to its native place! Yes, Heaven is the place for angels, the true abode of holy spirits and we, too, since our spiritual nature is born from above, long to be there--nor shall we be content until we are. These desires are further assisted by instruction. The more the Holy Spirit teaches us of the world to come the more we long for it. If a child had lived in a mine it might be content with the glimmer of candle light. But if it should hear of the sun, the green fields and the stars, you may depend upon it--the child would not be happy until it could ascend the shaft and behold for itself the brightness of which it had heard. And as the Holy Spirit reveals to us the world to come we feel longings within us, mysterious but mighty, and we sigh and cry to be where Jesus is. These desires are further increased by sanctified afflictions. Thorns in our nest make us take to our wings. The embittering of this cup makes us earnestly desire to drink of the new wine of the kingdom. We are very much like our poor who would stay at home in England and put up with their lot, hard though it is. But when at last there comes a worse distress than usual, then straightway they talk of emigrating to those fair and boundless fields across the Atlantic where a kindred nation will welcome them with joy. So here we are in our poverty, and we make the best of it we can. But a sharp distress wounds our spirit and then we say we will run away to Canaan, to the land that flows with milk and honey. For there, we think, we shall suffer no distress, neither shall our spirits hunger any more. Heavenly desires are still farther inflamed by communion with Christ. The sweets as well as the bitters may be made to increase our longings after the world to come. When a man has once known what fellowship with Jesus is, he then pines to enjoy it forever. Like the Gauls on this side the Alps, who, when they had once drank the Italian wines, said one to another, "It must be a fair land where they grow such wine as this. Come, Brethren, let us draw our swords and cross the Alps and take the vineyards for ourselves." Thus does the love of Jesus set us longing to be with Him-- "Since I have tasted of the grapes, I oftentimes long to go Where my dear Lord the vineyard keeps, And all the clusters grow." Communion with Christ sharpens the edge of our desire for Heaven. And so, to close this vein of thought, does elevation of soul. The more we are sanctified and lifted above the grossness of earthliness into conformity with Jesus, the more we long for the world to come. A peasant at the plow is quite content to mix with his fellow laborers--but suppose he forms a passion for the study of the stars, feels a poet's frenzy, develops mathematical powers, learns the science of flowers--or in any way discovers the treasure hidden in the field of learning? He will be sure to be uneasy in ignorance, and will pine for books and education. He dreams of schools, and colleges, and libraries. His fellow plowmen laugh at him and count him but a fool. If they have enough to eat and drink and clothe themselves, they are content--but he has wants for which the village has neither sympathy nor supply. His elevation of mind has brought with it groans--desires to which, had he no more ambition than his fellows--he would have been a stranger. So is it with the regenerated man--in proportion as he is elevated by the Holy Spirit by growth in Divine Grace, the higher he rises--the more he longs to rise. To him that has, it is given, and he desires to have in abundance. With a sacred covetousness he pants after yet higher degrees of Grace, and after Glory itself. Thus have I opened up to you the desire which the Holy Spirit works in us. "He that has worked us for the same thing is God." II. Our second subject of discourse is THE FITNESS FOR HEAVEN which is worked in us. Calvin's interpretation of the text is, "He that has fitted us for the same thing is God." Ah, how true this is! There is no fitness whatever in man by nature for communion with his God. It must be a Divine work within him. The Father works in us fitness for Heaven by separating us in the everlasting decree to be His own. Heaven is the place of God's own abode--we must be God's own people to be fit to be there. He fits us by adopting us into His family, by justifying us through the righteousness of Jesus Christ, by preserving us by His power. The Son of God has an equal share in the working of this fitness. He fits us by blotting out our iniquities and by transferring to us His righteousness--by taking us into marriage union with Himself. The Holy Spirit, forever to be blessed, has His share in this work. It is He who first infuses the new nature. He who gives us spiritual food for the new nature, giving us to feed upon the flesh and blood of Christ. It is He who instructs and develops that new nature, and through the blood of Jesus makes the man meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light. Glory be unto the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, who thus in blessed union "has worked us for the same thing." Now, let me describe with great brevity the work of the Holy Spirit in preparing us for Glory. As we have already hinted--and we must necessarily traverse much the same ground--fitness for Heaven, as worked in us by the Spirit, consists, first, in the possession of a spiritual nature. Heaven is pre-eminently a spiritual region and those who have no nature begotten from above would not by any possibility be able to enjoy the bliss of Heaven. They would be quite out of their element. It could not be a Heaven to them. A garden bee in the midst of the flowers is at home and gathers honey from all their cups and bells. But open the gate and admit a swine, and it sees no beauty in lilies, roses, or other flowers. Therefore it proceeds to root, and tear, and spoil in all directions. Such would an unregenerate man be in Heaven. While holy saints shall find bliss in everything in the Paradise of God, an ungodly sinner would be at war with everything in that holy region. Fitness for Heaven lies much in a holy nature--a love of Heaven is as contrary to fallen humanity as light to darkness. Do you not feel it so? Left to yourselves, O saints of God, do you not know that you would go back to Egypt? Do you not feel that the old nature lusts after evil? Well, then, as you cannot possibly inherit Heaven unless you delight in holiness, you owe this fitness for the perfect state to the Holy Spirit. Fitness for Heaven lies in a capacity to delight in God. I have always loved that first question and answer in the Assembly's Catechism, "What is the chief end of man? The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." Not to enjoy yourself forever, not even to enjoy the harps of gold, the angelic society and the feasts of the beatified--but to enjoy God forever. If a man has as yet no delight in God and takes no solace in thoughts of Him, he has no fitness for Heaven, and cannot get there. But if you delight in God, it is God that has "worked you to the same thing." Fitness for Heaven will lie very much in love to the saints. Those who do not love the people of God on earth would find their company very irksome forever. Here the unrighteous can manage to endure the company of the godly because it can be diluted with an admixture of graceless men. But up there the people shall be all righteous and their conversation shall be all of Christ and of things Divine--such society and such conversation would be weariness, itself, to godless hearts. My Hearer, if you delight in the company of the Believers--and if the more spiritual their conversation the more you enjoy it--then you have been worked to this same thing by the work of the Holy Spirit in your soul, and you may bless the Lord for it. Joy in service is another sweet preparation for Heaven. Heaven is sinless service. They serve God day and night in His Temple--service without weariness, service without imperfection, service without cessation. Now do you delight to serve God? If so, you evidently have a fitness for Heaven. But as you once abhorred that service, and were the bondslave of the Prince of Darkness--if you now long and wish to glorify your God--you have been worked thereto by the Holy Spirit's power. Conformity to Christ Jesus, again, is another preparation for Heaven. Much of Heaven consists in being like Christ. It is the very object of Divine Grace that we should be conformed to His image, that He should be the first-born among many Brethren. Now, if you are growing, by His Grace, somewhat like Christ--if you desire to be like He is, imitating His tender, loving, brave, prayerful, obedient, self-sacrificing spirit--you have some fitness for the skies. But that fitness was not there by nature. You were once as unlike Christ as possible. God has worked all this in you. I am afraid that I go from one point to another rather too rapidly, but the gist of it all is this--Heaven is the world of spirits, the land of holiness, the House of God-- and if we have any capacity for the enjoyment of Heaven, it has been worked in us by God. The unfitness of unrenewed souls for Heaven may be illustrated by the incapacity of certain uneducated and coarse-minded persons for elevated thoughts and intellectual pursuits. When a little child, I lived some years in my grandfather's house. In his garden there was a fine old hedge of yew of considerable length which was clipped and trimmed till it made quite a wall of verdure. Behind it was a wide grass walk which looked upon the fields. The grass was kept mown, so as to make pleasant walking. Here, ever since the old Puritan Chapel was built, godly divines had walked and prayed and meditated. My grandfather was likely to use it as his study. Up and down it he would walk when preparing his sermons, and always on Sundays when it was fair, he had half an hour there before preaching. To me it seemed to be a perfect Paradise, and being forbidden to stay there when Grandfather was meditating, I viewed it with no small degree of awe. I love to think of the green and quiet walk at this moment. But I was once shocked, and even horrified, by hearing a farming man remark concerning this sanctum sanctorum, "It' ud grow a many 'taturs if it wor ploughed up." What cared he for holy memories? What were meditation and contemplation to him? Is it the chief end of man to grow potatoes and eat them? Such, on a larger scale, would be an unconverted man's estimate of joys so elevated and refined as those of Heaven. Alphonse Karr tells a story of a man servant who asked his master to be allowed to leave his cottage and sleep over the stable. What was the matter with his cottage? "Why, Sir, the nightingales all around the cottage make such a 'jug, jug, jug' at night, that I cannot bear them." A man with a musical ear would be charmed with the nightingales' song-- but here was a man without a musical soul who found the sweetest notes a nuisance. This is a feeble image of the incapacity of unregenerate man for the enjoyments of the world to come--as he is incapable of enjoying them, so is he incapable of longing for them. But if you and I have grown out of all taste for the things of sin and time. If we are sighing for holy, godly joys, we have therein an evidence that God has worked in us, by His Grace, and will continue to do so till we are made perfect and immortal. III. The text informs us that in addition to working in us desires and fitness for Glory, the Lord has graciously given to us an EARNEST OF GLORY. An earnest, as you all know, is unlike a pledge, in some respects. A pledge has to be returned when the matter which it ensures is obtained--but an earnest is a part of the thing itself. A man has so much wage to take on Saturday night, he receives a part of it in the middle of the week, it is an earnest of the full payment--a part of the payment itself. So the Holy Spirit is a part of Heaven itself. The work of the Holy Spirit in the soul is the bud of Heaven. Divine Grace is not a thing which will be taken away from us when we enter Heaven, but which will develop into Glory. Grace will not be withdrawn as though it had answered its purpose, but will be matured into Glory. What is meant by the Holy Spirit being given to us as an earnest? I believe it signifies, first, that the very dwelling of the Holy Spirit within our soul is the earnest of Heaven. My Brothers and Sisters, if God Himself condescends to make these bodies His temples, is not this akin to Heaven's honors? Only put away sin, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit would make even this earthly state to be heavenly to us. O my Brethren, you little know what a weight of Glory is contained in the indwelling of the Holy Spirit! If you did but know it and believe in it always, the sorrows of this life would become trivial, and as for the frowns of men you would deride them. God dwells in you. You walk among the sons of men unknown and despised, yet as angels see you, you are the objects of their wonder! Rejoice that in this, then, you have an earnest of Heaven. But everything the Holy Spirit works in us is an earnest of Heaven. When the Holy Spirit brings to us the joys of hope, this is an earnest. While singing some glowing hymn touching the New Jerusalem, our spirit shakes off all her doubts and fears and anticipates her everlasting heritage. When we enjoy the full assurance of faith and read our title clear to mansions in the skies--when faith, looking simply to the finished work of Christ, knows whom she has believed, and is persuaded that he is able to keep that which she has committed to Him--this is an earnest of Heaven. Is not Heaven security, confidence, peace? The security, confidence, peace which spring from faith in Jesus Christ are part and parcel of the Heaven of the blessed. Heaven is the place of victory, and, my dear Friends, when we are victorious over sin, when the Holy Spirit enables us to overcome some propensity, to put down our anger, to crush our pride, to mortify the flesh with its affections and lusts--then in that conscious victory over sin we enjoy an earnest of the triumph of Heaven. And once more, when the Holy Spirit gives us to enjoy fellowship with Jesus Christ, and with one another--when in the breaking of bread we feel the union which exists between Christ and His members--we have a foretaste of the fellowship of Heaven. Do not say, then, that you know nothing of what Heaven is. "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love Him." But, "He has revealed them unto us by His Spirit." Spiritual natures do know what Heaven is--in the sense of knowing from the drop what the river must be like--of understanding from the beam what the sun must be. Its fullness you cannot measure, its depth you cannot fathom, its unutterable bliss you cannot tell. But still you know of what character the Glory will be--you know that pure are the joys of the blessed, and all their dwellings peace. You know that fellowship with Christ and with holy spirits makes up much of Heaven, and you know this because the earnest of the Spirit is a part and parcel of the thing itself. I conclude with a practical remark or two. If these things are so, what emotions are most fitting for us? Answer-- first, O Believers in Jesus, be thankful! Overflow with thankfulness. Remember these things are not your own productions. They are not flowers of your own garden--they have been planted in your soul by another Hand--and watered by a superior Power. Give all the glory to His holy name, for to Him all the glory belongs. Not a good desire in you was self-originated, no part of your fitness for Paradise was self-formed. Grace has done it, Divine Grace has done it all! Adore and bless the Holy Spirit who has worked all your works in you, for you are "His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God has before ordained that we should walk in them." Be thankful! As the birds created sing to pour out their song. As the flowers, the handiwork of God, load the air with their perfume--so sing-- and let your lives be all-fragrant with gratitude to Him who has worked you to the same thing. Another emotion we ought all to feel who have this worked in us is that of reverence. When a scholar knows that all he has learned has been taught him by his master, he looks up from his master's feet into his master's face with respectful reverence and esteem. O reverence the Holy Spirit! Let us, in our public ministry, and in our private meditations always stand in awe of Him. I am afraid we too much forget Him--let us, instead, reverence Him especially by obedience to His faintest monitions. As the leaves of the aspen tremble to the faintest breath of the wind, so may we tremble to the faintest breath of God's Holy Spirit. Let us prize the Word of God because He wrote it. Let us love the ordinances because He puts life and power into them. Let us love His indwelling, and never grieve Him lest He hide His face from us. "He that has worked us for the same thing is God." Vex not His Spirit, but anxiously ask that He would continue His work, and complete it in righteousness. Lastly, our heart ought to feel great confidence this morning. If the good thing had been worked by ourselves, we might be sure that it would fail before long. Nothing of mortal man was ever perfect. But if He that has begun the good work is God, there is no fear that He will forsake or leave His work undone. They shall never say of Him, " He began to build and was not able to finish." No war of His was ever undertaken and then given up because He had not counted the cost. God has begun, God will complete. His promise is "Yes and amen," and never was forfeited yet. Therefore let us be well assured, and let our hearts be glad. Dear Hearers, the unhappy thing about this is that there are so many who have no desires for the blessed hereafter, no fitness for it, no earnest of it. Ah, then, the prophecies that are within you--what do they foretell? No yearning for Heaven--does not that foretell that there is no Heaven for you? No fitness for the Presence of God. What does that say? Why, that in the Presence of God you shall not rest. Earnest of the Spirit? Why, you almost laugh at the idea. Ah, then, no earnest is a proof that there is no reward for you. But what then? Will you be annihilated? Will you pass out of this existence and cease to be? Dark as were that prospect--yes, dark as midnight--yet were it brighter than the fate which the Word of God allots you. There will be darkness, but you shall live in it. There will be death, but in it you must ceaselessly exist. For if the righteous are promised "life eternal," it is also written, "these shall go away into everlasting punishment." God save you from such woe by leading you to trust the Savior. Then you will confess with us, "He that has worked us for the same thing is God," and unto God be the glory. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Method and Music, Or the Art of Holy and Happy Living (No. 913) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JANUARY 30, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father by Him." Colossians 3:17. IT is always an advantage to have the laws of a kingdom as concise as possible. No one will ever be able to tell how much of litigation and consequent calamity has been caused in this country by the confused condition of our laws. When Napoleon issued his celebrated "Code Napoleon," which is an admirable summary of French Law, he conferred upon the empire one of the greatest gifts and proved himself a wise ruler. We want law to be put into such a form that it can be understood, and that its application to many cases can be discovered at once. In the great moral government of God we have no room to complain in this matter--the precepts of holiness are few and comprehensive. First of all, the whole of morality was summed up in the Ten Commandments, and written upon two tablets. Then, as if this were not concise enough, we have the whole Law summarized in two commands, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself." And even this is brought into shorter compass still, for that one word, "love," is the essence of all Divine Law. We, as Christians, find in the text an instance of the terseness, brevity, and clearness of Divine precepts. We have here a Law applicable to every Believer--to every action, word and thought--in every place, under all circumstances. And yet this comprehensive command is expressed in very few words. It is a great advantage to the mechanic to be able to carry with him in a small compass his square or rule by which he can adjust his materials, discover his errors, design correctly, and estimate his work when finished. Without such a rule he would be quite at a loss--with it he is ready for work. We have before us a compendious rule of life, a standard of morals, a guide to holiness which we may carry in our memories without the slightest difficulty. And which, if we have but the will to use it, will be found never to fail us on any occasion. As the mariner's compass or the polestar, so may the text be to us. Here is an infallible directory as to the way of holiness--a judge whose decisions in the matter of righteousness and Truth none need distrust. Read the text over, and then I shall ask you to observe the points in it. "Whatsoever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father by Him." Observe, first, holy walking described. In the second part of the verse note holy music prescribed. And to enforce the whole text bear with me patiently till we close with the third head, which will be holy motive inscribed--inscribed, I trust, upon all our hearts. I. HOLY WALKING DESCRIBED. "Whatsoever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." This rule is not applicable to every person here present. It can only be practiced by the regenerate. You must be in Christ before you can do anything in Christ's name. Until your nature is renewed, until you have submitted yourselves unto the righteousness of Christ, until Christ is formed in you the hope of Glory, you are not capable of walking after this high and hallowed fashion. "You must be born again." The precept demanding your immediate attention is not the precept of this text but another. The words of Peter, in the Acts of the Apostles, are for you, "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." Or this, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." You must begin at the beginning. It will but mislead you if I exhort you to walk as Believers before you have received the inner life. The root must be changed before the fruit can be bettered. You need a radical change, my unconverted Hearer, and you must have it or perish forever. Do not imagine that any imitation of Christian manners will save you--do not conceive that hanging upon your lifeless branches the semblance of fruits will transform you into a tree of righteousness, the planting of the Lord. Oh, no, the sap within you must be changed. The life of God must be infused into your soul. You must be made one with Christ, or you cannot serve Him. This precept, belongs, therefore, to none of you who have not believed in Christ Jesus! But it belongs to all of you, without exception, who are named by the name of Jesus Christ in Truth and sincerity. To all of you who have submitted yourselves to His government and are trusting in Him for salvation. You will listen, I trust, and give earnest heed to this message from your Beloved. What, then, does this mean, that we are to do everything both in word and deed in the name of the Lord Jesus? Answer--there are six points in which this precept requires reverent care. First, do all through the office and name of Christ as Mediator. You as a Christian are bound to offer daily praise. You should often lift up your heart in grateful songs and Psalms to God--but see to it that you do all this work of praise in the name of the Lord Jesus. No praise of yours can be sweet with God except it is presented through your great High Priest. Bring, therefore, your gifts of thankfulness to this altar which sanctifies the giver and the gift, and ever bless God through Jesus Christ. You are also to abound in prayer. It is your vital breath. You cannot flourish as a Christian unless you constantly draw near to God in supplication. But your supplications must always be presented through the name of Jesus Christ. His name gives prevalence to prayer. It is not so much your earnestness or sincerity as His precious blood that speaks in the ears of God and intercedes for you. Pray always, then, with your eyes upon the finished Propitiation and the living Intercessor. Always plead the merits of Immanuel, and Heaven's gate shall open to you. In addition to your prayers and praises, you are bound to serve Him according to the abilities entrusted to you in teaching the ignorant the way of salvation, in bringing in the unconverted, and in edifying the saints. But remember that your service to God in these respects can only be acceptable as you present it through the name of Jesus Christ. The hand of the Crucified One must offer for you the sweet cane which you have bought with money, and the fat of all your sacrifices. If you could give to God all the wealth that you possess, all the time of your mortal existence, all the talents with which you have been endowed--if you could do this from now on without a failure--if you did not present the offering through Jesus Christ it would be as though you had done nothing. Your burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings would have no acceptance with Jehovah, for your sinful nature pollutes them all. How necessary it is, then, that we should often pause in our holy work, and say, "I am doing this for God, but am I presenting it in the appointed way? If I see anything of merit in what I am doing, I am acting contrary to the Gospel rule and I shall be rejected. I must bring all my work to the High Priest of my profession and offer it through Him."-- "The iniquity of all our holy things Is cleansed by His blood, which covers all, And adds a rich perfume divinely sweet, Winning acceptance at the Throne of God For broken prayers, and faulty songs, and even For service marred with sad infirmities." Take heed, dear Hearer, that you see the blood sprinkled on your service for God. Almost all things under the Law were sanctified by blood, and all things under the Gospel, without exception, must be thus made sweet to God. The atoning sacrifice, the prevalent intercession of the one appointed Mediator, Christ Jesus, must be constantly before our minds in all that we attempt to do for our Lord God. Let us never forget this lest we utterly fail. A second meaning of this precept is, "Do all under the authority of the Lord Jesus as your King." Say of such-and-such a doubtful or evil action, "This I cannot do. I could not feel that I was authorized to do it by any precept or example of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. This I cannot do, for I should be stepping aside from the allegiance which I owe to Him. Therefore this I will not do, be the consequences what they may of loss or of suffering. I am not authorized by Christ to follow this course, neither will I, come fair, come foul." On the other hand, when the act is allowed in Scripture, and only forbidden by the traditions of men, you may safely say, "This I feel that I may do. I see my Master has laid down no restrictions, therefore I will submit to no human traditions or regulations. The commands which will-worship would inflict upon me I cast to the wind, for superfluities of pretended holiness are but superfluities of naughtiness." When positive duty is concerned, your language will be, "This ac- tion I find that I must do, for I see an express command for it--therefore, by His Grace, it shall be done. Be it difficult, it shall be achieved. Be it impossible, I will wait on Him who enables faith to remove mountains." O that every Christian were altogether and evermore obedient to heavenly rule! As the planet revolves undeviatingly in its orbit, because with the law imposed upon it there has come forth a constraining and impelling force--so may we also pursue our course of duty, because we have not only heard the Divine precept--but feel the sacred energy of the Holy Spirit leading us in the prescribed path. Brethren, how safe we feel, and how happy in our consciences, if we are certain that we have the authority of the Great King for all our actions! The business of a Christian upon earth is not an independent one. He is not acting on his own account, but he is a steward for Christ. What if I compare him to a commission agent who is sent abroad by his firm with full powers from his employer to transact business for the house which he represents? He is not to trade for himself, but he agrees to do all in the name of the firm which commissions him. He receives his instructions and all he has to do is to carry them out. His whole time and talent being by express agreement at the absolute disposal of his employers. Now, if this man shall lend himself to an opposition firm, or trade on his own account, he is not true to his engagements and he has to bear the responsibility of his acts. But so long as he acts for his firm, and does his best, his course is an easy and safe one. If he follows the instructions of his principals he is eased of all responsibility. Should his trade be profitable or otherwise, he need not be vexed with anxieties, provided he has diligently followed the commands received from home. His acts are authorized from headquarters, and they are, therefore, safe for him. He falls back on his principals who gave him the commands, and in whose name he acted. Now if we serve ourselves or the world, we must take the consequences of our unfaithfulness. But if we honestly serve the Lord, all is clear. When a Christian can say concerning any course of conduct, "I am bid to do this by Christ Jesus my Lord--I can find chapter and verse to authorize my acts." When he can feel that he is working for Christ and not for himself--with a single eye to the glory of God, and not with sinister aims and selfish motives--then he treads as on a rock, and defies the censures of his enemies. Let us, then, take good heed to our Lord's words, and walk carefully in His commands, for then His authority protects us, and every tongue that rises against us in judgment we shall condemn. This rule of acting under the authority of Christ is applicable in an emphatic sense to those who are called to special service in the kingdom of Christ. Every man is called to do all the good he can, but some men are set apart to labor in peculiar departments of Christian work--and these should be doubly careful to do all in their Master's name. If a man were sinking through the rotten ice, any one of us would be authorized to do all we could to save him. But the iceman, who is appointed on purpose that he may save lives, has a peculiar authority for anything that he takes upon himself to do in the way of rescuing the drowning. He has the name of the Royal Humane Society at his back. If a stranded ship were breaking up and the crew were ready to perish, we are all of us authorized to do all we can to save the shipwrecked. But the men who belong to the lifeboat's appointed crew have a right to come to the fore and take the oars and put out to sea. They are authorized to lead the way in daring and danger. So, my Brethren, those of you who have felt the Divine call within you, the sacred impulse which compels you to devote yourself to the salvation of your fellow men, you may do it boldly and without apology. Your authority is from Christ, for the Holy Spirit has set you apart for the work. Let no man hinder or dispirit you. Press forward to the front rank in self-denying labor. Call it not impertinence, O you carping critics! It is but holy courage which brings earliest hearts to the fore. Push to the very front, you men of God, filled with daring and self-sacrifice--for if others should impute your zeal to evil motives, the Lord who reads the heart understands you--and having given you a commission He will not fail to vindicate His faithful servants. A third sense of the text is important. We should do all under the sanction of the Lord Jesus as our Exemplar. It is an admirable course for us all to pursue, if when we find ourselves in circumstances of perplexity we ask ourselves the question, "What would Jesus Christ have done if He were in my circumstances?" The answer to that question is the solution of your difficulty. Whatever He would have done it will be safe enough for you to do. It is certain that He would not have been unbelieving. Equally certain that He would not have done a wrong thing to deliver Himself. We are also sure that He would not have been impatient, rebellious, or despairing--nor would He have grown wrathful or morose. Well then, I know what I must not be and it may be possible to learn my positive, as well as my negative behavior from the same Guide. I shall be able to discover by turning over the pages of the Evangelists some portion of the Savior's life very like my own. What He was in that situation I must pray for Divine Grace that I may be, and I shall certainly be led in the path of wisdom. The royal rule for a Christian is not what is fashionable, for we are not to be conformed to this world. It is not what is gainful, for the pursuit of gain would lead us to run greedily in the way of Balaam for reward. It is not that which is generally prescribed in society, for full often the prescriptions of society are antagonistic to the teachings of Christ. Not even the conduct of professors, for too many even among them walk as Paul tells us even weeping, as the enemies of the Cross of Christ. Alas, my Brethren, the current holiness of the Church falls far below the Scriptural standard! Neither are the common rules of action among professors such as we could safely follow. A safe example is to be found nowhere but in the life of Jesus Christ Himself. Even the holiest of men are only to be followed so far as they follow Christ, but no further. My Brethren, how calm will your hearts be, how serenely will you face your afflictions if you can feel, "I have done nothing but what my Master did before me. I have sought to tread in the footprints of His pilgrimage!" Why, you must be safe, you must be accepted if you do as Jesus did--for never can Christ's example lead a simple soul astray-- "It is always safe for souls to follow on Where Christ their holy Shepherd leads the way." Furthermore, as we are to do all through the office of Christ as Mediator, within the authority of Christ as King, under the sanction of Christ as Exemplar, so we should do everything to the glory of the Lord Jesus as our Lord and God. When the Spanish mariners were traversing the seas upon voyages of discovery they never touched upon new land, whether an insignificant island or a part of the main continent, without at once setting up the standard of Ferdinand and Isabella, and taking possession of the soil in the name of their Catholic Majesties of Spain. Wherever the Christian goes, his first thought should be to take possession of all hearts in the name of the Lord Jesus, consecrating all opportunities and influences to the Redeemer's service. Such common things as eating and drinking become, by the giving of devout thanks, consecrated to Christ's name. There is no action which is lawful, however commonplace it may be, but may be sanctified by the Word of God and prayer. If the intense desire of our spirit shall be that we may glorify God as long as we are in this body, we shall find ways and means of accomplishing our object--and the Holy Spirit will help our infirmities. My dear Brethren, our soul's desires should be always true to Christ--most chastely faithful so as not to tolerate any carnal motive or self-seeking. How easily do we give place to self-glorification! How almost insensibly do we expect to receive honor of men! It is very hard to keep ourselves clear of self-seeking under some form or other--for even self-denial may be used with an object which is the reverse of self-denial. The old philosopher, seeing a fool in fine apparel, pointed at him, and said, "that's pride," but he was equally right when seeing certain Spartans who affected to dress meanly, he said, "and that's pride." Pride often stands in the doorway, but it can as readily hide in the corner. There is a pride of self-sacrifice and a pride of apparent humility, which is everyway as haughty as vainglory itself. Dear Friends, we must live for Christ, cost us what it may of watchfulness. We must not fail here. We dare not live for a party, or a sect, or even altogether for any one Church, however dear to us. We may live for the Truth, but only because God is glorified thereby. First and last, in the middle and everywhere, the constraining thought of Christian life should be, "all for Jesus."-- "All for the Master, all without reserve, All to the utmost of our manhood's might Each pulse, each throb of heart and thrill of nerve, Each hour of busy day and silent night." Beloved, it is delightful to know that Christ is all mine, and I am all Christ's. It is a holy aspiration to desire to enjoy as much of Christ as our nature can receive, and then to exhibit as much of Christ as Divine Grace can enable us to reveal. "Everything for Jesus." "Christ all and in all Christ." Let these be the mottoes of every Believer. "Whatsoever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." Aim in all you do to do if for His Glory. The fifth point is, do all in the strength of the Lord Jesus as your Helper. With Him is the residue of the Spirit. And the Spirit of God is the Believer's power. "Without Me you can do nothing," says our Lord. We know the truth of that saying by unwise attempts which have ended in mournful failures. But let us in the future remember this Truth of God practically. Never let us commence a work without seeking strength from on High. We go about Christian service very often as though we felt ourselves quite up to the mark for it. We pray without asking the preparation of the heart from God. We sing--ah, my Brethren, how universally is it so--without at all entreating the Holy Spirit to quicken our praises. And I fear some of us must confess sorrowfully that we preach at times as though the preaching were to be our work and not the work of the Holy Spirit through us. Do not you, as hearers, too often listen to the Word as if the mere hearing of it would do you good, or as if the speech of such-and-such a man would be certainly blessed to you? Shouldn't you, instead, wait upon God beforehand that your going up to the assembly might be profitable to your souls? Do all in the Master's strength, and how differently everything will be done! Acknowledge all the time you are at your work that your strength comes from the Lord alone. Never let the thought cross your mind that you, as an experienced Christian, have a fitness for the work peculiarly your own--so that you can dispense with prayers for Divine aid, so necessary to the young! Never imagine that because through long years you have performed a service with acceptance that you can therefore now do it without renewed help. This is the way by which we sink into routine, degenerate into religious automata, and become like formalists and hypocrites. This is the way in which the power of God and the vitality of godliness are rendered so rare in the Churches. If we do not feel conscious day by day of abiding weakness and consequent need of fresh strength from the Most High, we shall soon cease to be full of Divine Grace. Write this upon the tablets of your heart, "All my fresh springs are in You," and from this day forward in word and deed do all in the name of the Lord Jesus--and you will derive all your spiritual energy from Him, the Source. Sixthly, we should do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, for He should be the element in which we live. It is said of the modern Greeks that whatever may be their faults mentally, they are faultless physically, for you never saw a Greek peasant in an ungraceful attitude, however much he might be off his guard and unconscious of your gaze. Gracefulness is a part of the Greek nature. So let the Lord Jesus Christ be so woven and intertwisted into your very self that you cannot be otherwise than Christ-like under any circumstances. Lord, grant us this. It would be a glorious thing to be saturated through and through with the spirit of Christ, so as to live Christ evermore. That eminent ornithologist, M. Audubon, who produced accurate drawings and descriptions of all the birds of the American Continent, made the perfection of that work the one object of his life. In order to achieve this he had to earn his own living by painting portraits, and other labors. He had to traverse frozen seas, forests, canebrakes, jungles, prairies, mountains, swollen rivers, and pestilential bogs. He exposed himself to perils of every sort and underwent hardships of every kind. Now, whatever Audubon was doing, he was fighting his way toward his one object--the production of his history of American birds. Whether he was painting a lady's portrait, paddling a canoe, shooting a raccoon, or felling a tree--his one goal was his bird book. He had said to himself, "I mean to carve my name among the naturalists as having produced a complete ornithological work of America." This resolution ate him up and subdued his whole life. He accomplished his work because he gave himself wholly to it. This is the way in which the Christian man should make Christ his element. All that he does should be subservient to this one thing--"That I may finish my course with joy, that I may deliver my testimony for Christ, that I may glorify God whether I live or die." We have thus seen what it is to do all in the name of the Lord Jesus. Let us stop a moment to remind you that this text administers a severe rebuke to many professed Christians. Too many Church members do nothing in Christ's name. Since the day when they were baptized into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, they have done nothing else in that name. Ah, hypocrites! Ah, hypocrites! God have mercy upon you! Alas, how many others do but very little in Christ's name! I noted in a letter, by a certain pastor--not, I think, given to speaking severely, this remark--that he did not think in his own Church one in three of the members were doing anything for Christ. I could not speak so sorrowfully as that concerning you, but I much fear that a large proportion of the strength of this Church is not used for the Lord. I believe that there is more used here than in almost any other Church, but still there is a great deal of wasted steam, a great deal of buried talent, and thereby Jesus is defrauded. I noticed in an American paper an observation made concerning the Baptist Churches of North Carolina. A man acquainted with them said, "There are a hundred thousand members reported in the various associations. There are a hundred thousand baptized persons, and seventy-five thousand of them are only 'baptized dead heads.' " It is an American term, but I am afraid we shall have to import it, for it is frightfully true that numbers of professors are just so many "baptized dead heads." They are of no use. They are not working. They are perhaps grumbling--the only sign of life they have--but they are neither giving of their substance nor laying out any other talents in the cause of Christ. If there are any such present, I pray that this text may be a thorn in your side and act as a spur to you. And may you from this day on do all that lies in your power in the name of the Lord Jesus. The text also rebukes those Christians who do much in the name of some eminent Christian man. I shall not censure any particular denomination, but if the Truth censures them, let them hear it. When George Whitfield refused to form a new sect, and said, "Let my name perish, and let Christ's name last forever," he acted as his Lord would have him. Paul was not crucified for you, neither did Apollos die for you! Therefore take none of these names--but let the name of Christ be named among you--and under that name be known! Though there is a Lutheran Church, it was a good saying of Luther, though couched in rugged words, "I desire above all things that my name should be concealed. That none be called by the name of Lutheran, but of Christian. What is Luther? My doctrine is not mine, but Christ's. I was not crucified for any. How comes it to pass, that I, who am but a filthy, stinking bag of worms, that any of the sons of God should be denominated from my name? Away with these schismatic names. Let us be denominated from Christ, from Whom alone we have our doctrine." It shall be well for all Churches when they are ruled by the like spirit. Names which indicate their difference of doctrine will probably survive till Christ comes, but the names of men they will do well to discard. Once more--what a rebuke is our text to those professors who dishonor the name under which they profess to live! The Spaniards in America acted so cruelly, and with such a dreadful lust for gold, that when they sent their missionaries to convert the Indians, the Indians wished only to know whether the religion that was taught them was the religion of the Spaniards--for if it were they should like to believe something the very opposite. And if there was no Heaven but where the Spaniards went, they would sooner go to Hell than be with them. Truly some professors' lives give much the same savor to the Christian religion. Men say, "Are these Christians, these mean, covetous, quarrelsome, domineering, boastful people? Then we will sooner be infidels than Christians." Out upon you, you caricatures of godliness! If there is one such here, may his conscience prick him. You have crucified the Lord afresh, and put Him to an open shame. How dreadful will be your punishment if you die in your present state! Repent of your sin and ask of God Grace to make your profession sincere. And if you will not do this, at least be honest enough to give up your false profession--for you do but degrade it and yourself. There is no necessity, surely, to add to your innumerable sins, this sin of hypocrisy. What do you gain by it? No, Sir, if you must serve mammon and the devil, serve them. But why with supererogation of iniquity must you pretend to serve Christ? II. We leave this first point, and find in the second part of the text, HOLY MUSIC PRESCRIBED. "Giving thanks unto God the Father by Him." Soldiers march best to battle when the trumpet and drum excite them with enlivening strains. The mariner brightens his toil by a cheery cry at every pull of the rope. And it is an excellent thing when Christian men know how to sing as well as to work, and mingle holy music with holy service. The best music of a Christian consists in thankfulness to God. Thanks should be rendered by the Believer with all the acts common to men. Our eating, our drinking, our social meetings, our quiet conversations with one with another--in all we should give thanks unto God the Father. This we should do in the labors peculiar to our vocation. Whatever your trade and calling may be, if you cannot sing aloud, you can sing in your hearts while your hands are busy. You can ring out the praises of God as well to the sound of the hammer on the anvil as to the peal of the organ. Your feet at the sewing machine may beat time to a sacred tune. You can as well praise God while you crack your whip as when you sing a Psalm. Why not? If the heart is right you can mount up to the heavens from any place or labor. Whatever your calling may be you shall find some peculiarity in it which shall help you to magnify God, if you will but use a spiritual eye to discover it. We ought especially to praise God in the exercise of our religion. Whenever the assemblies of God's people meet, there should be much of holy joy. Some people are so afraid of joy that one might suppose them to labor under the delusion that all who are devout must also be unhappy. If we worshipped Baal, to lance ourselves with knives were most fitting. If we were worshippers of Juggernaut or Kalee, self-inflicted tortures might be acceptable. If we adored the pope, it might be proper for us to wear a hair shirt and practice flagellation. But we worship the ever-blessed God, whose delight is to make His creatures happy! Holy happiness is a part of worship, and joy in the Lord one of the accepted Graces of the Holy Spirit. Brethren, let us be happy when we praise God. I have noticed with pain the way in which people will get rid, if they can, of happy words out of their hymns. The hundredth Psalm for instance, runs thus-- "All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice, Him serve with_" What? Well, they modernize it into-- "Him serve with fear." But, as I believe, the older form is-- "Him serve with mirth, His praise forth tell, Come you before Him and rejoice." I am amazed some other scribe did not cut out the word "cheerful," and put in-- "Sing to the Lord with doleful voice." In this way the Psalm might have been "improved" until there would not have been a grain of worship left in it. I mean to sing it, "Him serve with mirth." And with a glad and merry heart will I praise my God. If you are His child, rejoice in your Father's Presence. If you are pardoned, rejoice in the mercy that washed away your sins. Even if you are tried and troubled, rejoice that your afflictions are working together for your good! "Rejoice in the Lord always. And again I say, Rejoice." The text tells us under what aspect we should regard God when we are thus thanking Him, "Giving thanks unto God the Father," blessing Him that He stands in that relation to us as well as to the Lord Jesus. The belief in the Divine fatherhood will surely make the sons of God happy. It is instructive to observe that thanks are directed to be offered especially to the Father. I suppose because we are most apt to forget to praise the Father. We love Jesus Christ for dying for us. We forget not the Holy Spirit because He dwells in us. But the common idea of the Father is dishonoring to Him. Is He not regarded as all Justice, and seldom as the Fountain of Love? Now, it is the Father who stands at the back of all in the eternal purpose. It is the Father who gave the Son to die. It is the Father who justifies us through the righteousness of Christ, and adopts us into His family. The Father is equally to be loved and worshipped with the Spirit and the Son. And through Jesus Christ we should come to God, the terrible God as He was to us in our ungodliness, and worship Him as the Father now with thankful joy, because of the mercies we have received. The gist of this second precept is that you stir up your hearts, my dear Friends, to the cultivation of a cheerful spirit. That you excite that cheerful spirit to the use of thankful words, telling your friends and neighbors of the goodness of God to you. These words should be oftentimes elevated into songs. These songs should, as on wings of flame, ascend up to where perfect spirits praise God both day and night. O, we that love the Savior, do not neglect this, "Whoso offers praise glorifies God." Glorify Him, then. This praise, this cheerful spirit wins others. They, marking how you give thanks, will be attracted to your Savior and your God--while you will strengthen yourselves, also--for "the joy of the Lord is your strength." Despondency and murmuring will hamper you in all your efforts to glorify Christ, but to maintain an inward spring of thanksgiving is one of the best ways to keep yourselves in spiritual health. God help you, then, to carry out both these precepts-- "Work and praise! Hearts upraise! Drink your fill of joy! Happy they who all the day Spend in Christ's employ. For their song makes them strong, Ready for their toil; And their mirth, not of earth, Sorrow cannot spoil." III. A few words upon the third point, namely, HOLY MOTIVE TO BE INSCRIBED upon our hearts to secure obedience. These motives are four. A word on each. Beloved in Christ, you have received all you have from God the Father through Christ. That you are not in Hell is due to His longsuffering. That you have been spiritually quickened is due to His gracious operation. That you are pardoned is due to His precious blood. Owing all to Him, what arises in your mind but gratitude? And what is the dictate of gratitude? Does it not teach you that it is your reasonable service to surrender yourselves to Him who bought you at such a price? For, ah, what a return it will be--how poor compared with what He has done for you! If you give your body to be burned for Him, yet He deserves infinitely more than all the sacrifices of the most painful death to recompense His stoop from the highest Throne in Glory to the Cross of the deepest woe. Let your gratitude compel you to do everything for Jesus. Reflect, too, that the Well-Beloved for whom I plead today is worthy. "Him has God the Father exalted." Do you object to that exaltation? Should you not rather rejoice in it? Is not that song most true -- "Worthy is He that once was slain, The Prince of Peace that groaned and died; Worthy to rise, and live, and reign, AtHis Almighty Father's side"? Will you deny, then, to Christ that which He is worthy to receive? He deserves the crowns of angels, and the songs of all the perfected! Will you not give Him the best you have, even your hearts? I appeal to the justice which I trust governs your judgment--should not Jesus Christ be the one object of your life? Further, many of us here present have professed to be His disciples. We remember well the day when we were buried with Him in Baptism unto death. We voluntarily came forward and we took upon ourselves to be immersed in His name, copying His example and obeying His command. If that act meant anything, it meant this--that we professed ourselves to be dead henceforth to the world and risen with Christ. Now, by the profession then made, by the communion then enjoyed, I pray you, my dear Brothers and Sisters, whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the Master's name. Let not this appeal to your honor be forgotten. Lastly, I need not thus plead with some of you, for your hearts are pleading with you. I know you love Him whose name is as ointment poured forth. I know how the tendrils of your heart have entwined themselves about His Cross. His Person fixes all your love. You are only happy when you are walking in communion with Him. He is the sun of your soul, without whom you cannot live. Well, then, do what love dictates--bring forth the alabaster box of ointment, break it, pour the sacred nard upon His head, and if any ask, "Why is this waste?" say that He is worthy of it--and that you love much because you have had much forgiven. This day bring forth the best that is within your store, the spiced wine of your pomegranate, and set it before your Lord, while Jesus sups with you and you with Him. Again I say arouse yourselves to live at a more vigorous rate, and let the whole of the force and energy that dwells within you, and all that you can borrow from the seventh Heaven, be given up to Him who loved you and gave Himself for you. May my Master's blessing be with these words, to all who hear or read them, for Jesus' sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Work in Us and Work by Us (No. 914) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 6, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Whereunto I also labor, striving according to His working, which works in me mightily." Colossians 1:29. THE Apostle Paul could very truthfully assert that he labored and agonized. When the Holy Spirit had anointed the Apostles they all became ardent enthusiasts for the spread of the Redeemer's kingdom. Having the whole world committed to them that they might enlighten it, they labored most ardently--each one in his sphere to spread abroad the Truth of the Gospel--but the Apostle of the Gentiles labored more abundantly than they all. Into how many countries did he carry the testimony of Christ? How often did he cross the sea, traverse mountains, and ford rivers? One sees in his career something more than an ordinary Christian life. He was so indefatigable in service that surely, nothing beyond could have been possible to humanity, even under the help of God. His public labors were not only abundant, but they were the cause of continual inward conflict. He never preached a sermon, wrote an Epistle, or attempted a work without earnest prayer and soul-consuming zeal. Night and day with tears he said of a certain Church that he had labored for its good. He was a man so whole-hearted and intense in all that he did, that we ought to remember not merely the amount of his labors, but the way in which he wore himself out by the intensity of his zeal in them. Probably no other man led a more intensely ardent life than he. Moreover, added to all this, he carried a weight of care enough to crush him. For there came upon him the care of all the Churches--to plant them, to defend them against rising errors, to prevent schisms from dividing the flock. To lead the converts from Grace to Grace, to instruct them, and to present everyone perfect before God. The burden resting upon the Apostle was greater than the cares of an empire. And then, as if to complete the whole, he was called to suffer persecutions of which he has given us a list. A list of which, as we read it, makes us shudder that one man should have endured so much--and makes us also glory in humanity that it should be possible that so much should be borne and done for God by a single individual. Yet, note it well, the Apostle takes no honor to himself. He humbly ascribes whatever he had done, or suffered, entirely to his Lord. He declares that he labored and agonized, but he confesses that it was through the work of the Lord Jesus Christ, who mightily by the Holy Spirit worked in him. In another place, when he had mentioned his abundant labors, he added, "Yet not I, but the Grace of God which was with me." He remembered where to put the crown. He took care not to steal an atom of the glory for himself. He ascribed all to the power of Him who loved him and gave Himself for him. Let us imitate the Apostle in these two things. My Brethren, let us live, while we live, a life of energy. But let us at the same time confess, when we have done all, that we are unprofitable servants. And if there is any glory, any praise resulting from the work which we achieve, let us be careful to lay it all at the Redeemer's feet. The doctrine of the text upon which I intend to preach this morning, as I may be enabled, is this--it is clear from what Paul has here said that the work of Christ in us and for us does not exempt as from work and service, nor does the Holy Spirit's work supersede human effort, but rather excites it. Paul speaks of an inner work, a mighty work worked in him, but he also declares, "whereunto I also labor, striving." So that the doctrine of the work of the Holy Spirit is not intended in any degree to lull our minds into sloth, but wherever the Holy Spirit works He makes men work. He works in us to will and to do of His own good pleasure, that we also may work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. I shall try to illustrate this Truth in two respects. First, in reference to a man's own salvation. And secondly, in the matter of the Christian man's ministry for the salvation of others. The work of the Holy Spirit does not supersede Christian effort in either case. I. First, then, IN THE BELIEVER'S SALVATION. We believe, each one of us, and we have Scriptural warrant for it, that if any man is saved, the work within his soul is entirely worked by the Holy Spirit. Man is dead in sin, and the dead cannot raise themselves from the grave. Quickening and spiritual resurrection must be accomplished by Divine power. Man must be born again, and this birth must be effected by Divine power, for unless a man is born from Above, he cannot see the kingdom of God. As the commencement of salvation is dependent upon the Holy Spirit, so is the carrying of it on. "Without Me you can do nothing," is Christ's testimony. We shall never persevere except as Grace shall keep us from falling, nor may we hope to be presented faultless before the august Presence except as the Holy Spirit shall sanctify us from day to day, and make us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. I trust, my Brethren, I need not do more than assert this doctrine in your hearing, since you know how continually we insist upon it, and our trumpet never gives an uncertain sound as to the great Truth that God works all our works in us, and that salvation is of the Lord from first to last. But at this present time we intend to insist upon this further Truth of God--that the working of the Holy Spirit in us does not exempt the Believer from the most energetic labor, but rather necessitates his doing all that lies in him. To enforce this we remark, first, that the Christian life is always described as a thing of energy. Sometimes we read of it as a pilgrimage. That master allegorist, John Bunyan, has not pictured Christian as carried to Heaven while asleep in an easy chair. He makes Christian lose his burden at the foot of the Cross. He ascribes the deliverance of the man from the burden of his sin entirely to the Lord Jesus, but he represents him as climbing the Hill Difficulty. Yes, and on his hands and knees, too, Christian has to descend into the Valley of Humiliation, and to tread that dangerous pathway through the gloomy horrors of the Shadow of Death. He has to be urgently watchful to keep himself from sleeping in the Enchanted Ground. Nowhere is he delivered from the necessities incident to the way, for even at the last he fords the black river and struggles with its terrible billows. Effort is used all the way through, and you that are pilgrims to the skies will find it to be no allegory, but a real matter of fact. Your soul must gird up her loins. You need your pilgrim's staff and armor, and you must foot it all the way to Heaven, contending with giants, fighting with lions, and combating Apollyon himself. Our life is in Scripture represented as a race which is even sterner work than pilgrimage. In such footraces as were witnessed among the Greeks, in every case the man spent all the strength there was in him, and underwent a training beforehand that he might be fit for the contest. It sometimes happened, and indeed not seldom, that men fell dead at the winning-post, through their extreme exertions. Running to Heaven is such running as that--we are to strain every nerve. We shall require all the power we have, and more, in order to win that incorruptible crown which now glitters before the eyes of our faith. If we are so to run that we may obtain, we shall have no energy to spare, but shall spend it all in our heavenly course. Not infrequently the Apostle compares our spiritual life to a boxing match, and the terms in the original Greek, if they were translated into pure vernacular English, would remind us very much of a boxing ring and of the place where wrestlers strive for mastery. To wit, in that notable passage, "I keep under my body," we are told by scholars that the Greek word alludes to the getting of the antagonist's head under the arm and dealing it heavy blows. So the flesh must be mortified. Now the wrestlers in the Greek and Roman games strained every muscle and sinew, too--there was no part of the body that was not brought into action to overthrow their adversary. For this they agonized till often blood would spurt from the nostrils, and veins would burst. Such, in a spiritual sense, must be the agony of a Christian if he is to overcome temptation and subdue the power of sin. Ah Brethren, it is no child's play to win Heaven! Saved, as I repeat it, through the power of Christ's blood and with the energy of His Holy Spirit within us, yet we have no time to loiter, no space in which to trifle. We must labor, striving according to His working who works in us mightily. All the figures which represent the Christian life imply the most energetic exertion. Secondly, be it remarked that there is no illustration used in Scripture to set forth the heavenly life which allows the supposition that in any case Heaven is won by sloth. I do not remember ever finding in Scripture the life of the Christian described as a slumber. To the sluggard I find a warning always--thorns and thistles in his garden--and rags and disease in his person. "The hand of the diligent makes rich." There may be occasional opportunities by which even idle men may become wealthy, but such spiritual wealth I have never heard of. I find that wherever the Spirit of God comes upon men, it never leaves a saved man effortless or fruitless, but as soon as it descends upon him, according to his capacity he begins to work out his own salvation. Remember the question of the inspired writer, "Likewise also was not Rahab, the harlot, justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way?" Her faith saved her. And though it was very weak and very ignorant faith, it made her work--and therefore she hid the spies to save their lives. Look at the dying thief, with his hands and feet fastened to the wood, and ready to expire, yet he rebuked the reviling malefactor. Thus doing all he possibly could for his Lord, in Whom he trusted for salvation, what more could he have done? It May be said of him, "He has done what he could." It shall be well if as much can be said for us. No, Brethren, you cannot be carried to Heaven on "flowery beds of ease." You must fight if you would reign. You must stem the flood, you must breast the waves if you mean to reach the further shore. Divine Grace will help you, else were the work an impossibility. But even with the aid of Divine Grace you are not permitted to slumber into Glory, nor sleep your way to the celestial throne. You must be up and doing, watching diligently, lest any man fail of the Grace of God. The trumpet sounds, and not the dulcimer--the call is to conflict--not to feasting. I would next bid you note, dear Friends, that it is natural it should be so. It is unavoidable in the nature of things that when the Holy Spirit comes He should not beget a spirit of slumber, but awaken us to diligent action. It is natural, I say, because one of the first results of the Holy Spirit's entrance into a man's heart is to let him see his sin and his danger. If I feel myself guilty and perceive that God is angry with me and that I shall be cast by-and-by into the Lake of Fire, what is the inevitable result? Shall I not hear a voice crying, "Escape for your life! Look not behind you! Stay not in all the plain"? Wherever the Holy Spirit works a sense of sin, the sinner is constrained to cry, "What must I do to be saved?" Never does the Spirit effectually show a man his sin and then leave him to fold his arms and ask for "a little more sleep and a little more slumber." No, the awakened soul exclaims, "I am guilty, I am accursed of God. How can I escape? Lord help me, help me now to find rest if rest is to be found!" Then the Holy Spirit farther reveals to us the excellence of the salvation of Christ, the happiness of those who rest in Jesus, the future reward of such as serve God on earth. And what is the result? The enlightened soul cries, "I desire to find this pearl of great price! I desire to be enriched by an interest in Christ! I too, would, with the blessed, take my everlasting heritage." Don't you see, then, that the Holy Spirit cannot make a man appreciate salvation without at the same time creating a desire to gain it? And out of which desire arises prayer for the promised blessing. After a man has found Christ to the pardon of his sin, the Holy Spirit is pleased to endear Christ more and more to him. It is the office of the spirit to take of the things of Christ and show them to us. Now, my Brethren, you know very well that whenever you have a sight of the preciousness of Christ, you are moved at once to glorify Him. Do you not cry -- "Oh, for this love let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break, And all harmonious human tongues The Sa vior's praises speak"? I know it is so! It is because we think so little of Christ that we do so little for Him. But when Christ is brought with vivid power home to the mind, then at once we cry, "Lord, what would You have me to do?" And we, by His Grace, bestir ourselves to honor Him. Brethren, the fact that the Holy Spirit is working in a man never can be a reason for his not working. On the contrary, the moment a man perceives that the Spirit is helping him, he is encouraged diligently to labor. "Why," says he, "my work may fail, but if it is the Spirit's work it cannot fail." I bow my knee in prayer, and if I believe that all acceptable prayer is worked in me by the Holy Spirit, I am fully assured that God will not refuse to grant what He Himself, by His Spirit suggests to me to ask. If the Holy One of Israel Himself breaks my heart and leads me to long after a Savior, surely He does not intend to tantalize me. He will continue His work till He has saved me. Thus encouraged, a man is certain to give diligence to make his calling and election sure. Moreover every intelligent man feels that if he does not work when the Spirit of God is working in him, he is dishonoring that Divine Person, and is running the solemn peril of committing the sin against the Holy Spirit which shall never be forgiven him. He feels that if he should be slothful that text would condemn him, "How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?" Neglect--mere neglect--nobody ever gets to Heaven by it. But ah, how many perish by that alone! To conclude this point, it is most certain that all saving acts must be performed by the man himself. Faith is the gift of God, but the Holy Spirit never believed for anybody. It is not His office to believe. The sinner must believe. Repentance is the work of the Holy Spirit, but the Holy Spirit never repented. What had He to repent of? He has done no ill. It cannot be possible for Him to repent for us. No, we ourselves must repent. My Brethren, this is self-evident to every candid mind. There must be in every man a personal faith and a personal repentance. And though these are worked in him by the Holy Spirit, yet they are his own acts. They cannot be the acts of anybody else, or else the man has not believed, and has not repented, and there is no life in him. Right on to the end of the Christian life all those acts which bring us into communion with God are our own. For instance, the Holy Spirit helps men to pray. He helps their infirmities. But they pray. They themselves pray. Prove to me that the man does not, himself, pray, and I will be bold to tell you that he is not saved. The intercession of Christ is prevalent, but it will not save those who live and die without praying for themselves. True desires after God must be your own desires. The desire is worked in you, but still it is yours. And the expression of that desire is helped by the teaching of the Spirit, but still it is your own expression, or else what are you but a dead soul? There must be a voluntary putting forth on your part of the life which is quickened in you by the Spirit. This is so plain as to be self-evident. Note again, if we were not made active, but are simply acted on by the Holy Spirit, there is a reduction of manhood to materialism. If the man does not believe nor pray, and if spiritual acts are not a man's own acts, but the acts of another in him, then what is the man? There is no moral good or moral evil in a work which is not my own--I mean no moral good or evil to me. A work which I do not myself perform may be creditable or discreditable to somebody else, it is neither to me. Take an illustration. In the Square of St. Mark, at Venice, at certain hours the bell of the clock is struck by two bronze figures as large as life, wielding hammers. Now, nobody ever thought of presenting thanks to those bronze men for the diligence with which they have struck the hours. Of course not, they cannot help it--they are worked upon by machinery--and they strike the hours from necessity. Some years ago a stranger was upon the top of the tower, and incautiously went too near one of these bronze men. It was time to strike the hour and he knocked the stranger from the battlement of the tower and killed him. Nobody said the bronze man ought to be hanged--nobody ever laid it to his charge at all. There was no moral good or moral evil, because there was no will in the concern. It was not a moral act, because no mind and heart gave consent to it. Am I to believe that Grace reduces men to this? I tell you, Sirs, if you think to glorify the Grace of God by such a theory, you know not what you do. To carve blocks, and move logs is small glory--but this is the glory of God's Grace-- that without violating the human will, He yet achieves His own purposes, and treating men as men, He conquers their hearts with love, and wins their affections by His Divine Grace. I warn any here present who imagine that man is a merely passive being in salvation against putting their theory in practice. I am alarmed for you if you say, "God will save me if He so decrees, and therefore I will sit still and wait." My Hearer, I am afraid for you! You are neglecting the great salvation, and I again remind you of the warning--"How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?" I confess, I have no hope for you. But on the contrary, if you cry, "Lord, save, or I perish," I have good hope for you, you shall not perish--the Spirit of God is working in you these desires and this longing and seeking. Whosoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. I pray you check not your aspirations. Quench not the Spirit. Led and guided by His mighty working, come to the foot of Christ's Cross. Trust alone to Him, and a voice shall sound in your heart, "Your sins which are many, are all forgiven you." God grant it may be so. II. We shall now turn to the second part of our subject in reference to THE MINISTRY OF THE SAINTS FOR THE CONVERSION OF OTHERS. The Holy Spirit alone can convert a soul. All the ministries in the world put together, be they what they may, are utterly powerless for the salvation of a single soul apart from the Holy Spirit. "Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord." But wherever the Holy Spirit works, as a general rule (so general that I scarcely know an exception), it is in connection with the earnest efforts of Christian men. This is clear, first, from the example of the text. The Apostle Paul certifies that the salvation of souls is the sole work of Christ, but he declares that he labored, and the next word he adds "striving," or as in the Greek, "agonizing." Though the Spirit did the work, it was in connection with the Apostle's labor and agony for souls. Now, my Brethren, laboring implies abundant work. No man can be said to labor who only does half an hour's work in a day. A man who is a thorough laborer makes long hours, and is ever at it. The Apostle Paul was this. The winning of souls was not a piece of by-play with him. It was his one object to which he consecrated everything. He was "in labors more abundant." In the morning he sowed his seed, and in the evening he withheld not his hand. If we are to have souls saved we must do the same. No tradesman expects his shop to prosper who has it open only one hour a day--and you must not expect to be soul-winners if you only now and then seek to be such. There must be, as far as time and capacity allow, the consecration of yourselves to this work, even to an abundance of effort. Labor, again, means hard work. It is not trifling. He is no laborer who takes the spade to play with it as a little child upon the sand. He that labors works till the sweat streams from his face. And he that would win souls will find that, though it is all of the Holy Spirit, yet it involves on his part the sternest form of spiritual work. Baxter used to say if any minister found his ministry easy, he would find it hard to answer for it at the Day of Judgment. And I add, if any one of you teaching in your classes, or officiating in any form of Christian work, find it easy, you will find it hard to give an account of your stewardship at the Lord's coming. The labor must be personal labor, for no man is a laborer who does it through his servants. He may be an employer, and in a certain sense he may be said to do the work, but he cannot say, "I labor." The Apostle performed personal work. Ah, Brethren, the power of the Church very much lies under God in the personal influence of her members. On this platform I feel that I am a long way off from you. I wish I could devise some mode of speech by which I could thrust my hand into your hearts and get my soul to pulsate close by yours to make you feel what I feel. Between the pulpit and the pew there is too often a great gulf fixed. But you who get your friends into the parlor and talk concerning eternal things--you have a fine opportunity. Your personal influence then bears with mighty force upon the person with whom you are speaking, and you may hope that a blessing will be the result. Learn from your adversaries. What is the strength of the fools of Rome? What but their conversing with men and women by themselves at the confessional? Who could not prevail, with such an instrument? We, with nobler ends and aims, must use personal, private conversation in all honest earnestness to bring men to repentance, to faith, and to the foot of the Cross. My Brethren, I do not believe that even this will suffice. Abundant Christian work, and hard Christian work, and personal Christian work must have combined with it inward soul conflict. If your soul never breaks for another, you will not be the means of breaking that other's heart. But when it comes to this, "I must have that soul saved, I cannot bear the thought that it should be cast away"--you are near winning that soul. Suppose it is your child, your unconverted husband, or your brother--and you are enabled to say in yourself, "I have continual heaviness for my kinsmen according to the flesh"--so that you could almost sacrifice your own soul if they might but be saved? When it comes to tears, the Lord will not deny you. My Brothers, when your heart breaks with love to souls, they shall be yours. But there must be conflicts. I pity that minister whose life is one of uninterrupted spiritual ease. What? Can we see you backslide and not weep till you come back to the Cross? Can I know that among these thousands who are listening to my voice, perhaps half are dead in trespasses and sins--and can I be insensible as a marble statue? Then God have mercy upon me as well as upon you! Unhappy souls to be entrusted to the care of one so utterly unfit for such a service! No, the heart must be stirred, there must be an anguishing and yearning for souls. They tell us that in the sea certain waves rise from the bottom, and these cause the ground swells and the breakers. There must be great ground swells of desire within us that souls may, by some means, be delivered from the wrath to come. And where these deep searching of the heart are found, there will be conversions. Where these four things of which we have spoken are the result of the Holy Spirit working in any of you, it is as certain that souls will be saved as that spring will follow when the sun returns from his southern tropic. We must further note that this is plain from the work itself. For, Brethren, souls are not converted as a rule without previous prayer for them on the part of someone or another. Well, then, we must be stirred up to prayer, and the praying which God hears is not that of people half asleep. The petitions which pierce the ears of God are not those that fall from careless lips. They must come from your heart or they will never go to His heart. The importunate pleader prevails with Heaven. Souls are saved instrumentally through teaching, but the teaching which saves souls is never cold, dead teaching. God may occasionally bless such words, for He does great wonders, but as a rule the teaching that convinces and enlightens is earnest and enthusiastic. We have heard of a traveler who, journeying onward, met with one who said, "Sir, the night is dark, and I should not advise you to go on to the river, for the bridge is broken in the middle. You will be in the stream before you know it." This was said in so careless a tone that the traveler went on. He was met sometime afterwards, fortunately for him, by another who again warned him--"The bridge is broken! Don't go on, you will be sure to lose your life if you attempt it. You cannot ford the stream and the bridge is broken." The traveler replied, "Why, I have been told that tale before, but the man who told me it spoke in such a tone that I could see through him, I knew it was all a hoax." "Oh, but Sir," said the other, "it is true! I have but now escaped myself. I am sure it is true!" "But," said the traveler, "I am not so easily scared." "Well, then," said the other, "I beseech you once again, do not go on, for you will perish," and rushing up to him he said, "I will not let you go." He grasped him and held him fast. "Now," said the other, "I believe you have spoken the truth, and I will turn with you." So there are some who warn souls of their danger in such a careless tone that they create an unbelief which many an earnest tongue will not be able to dispel. But if you get hold of the soul and say to it, "I will not let you perish." If you say to your friends as Whitfield would say to his congregation, "If you perish it shall not be for want of praying for you. It shall not be for want of weeping over you. If you are damned it shall not be because my heart was cold towards you," you will win them--they will be led to believe, by His Grace, from your earnestness. Who knows how many earnest spirits you may bring to Jesus? Praying and teaching, if effectual, must be earnest. And therefore when the Spirit comes to save the sons of men He always gives us earnest praying men and earnest teachers. But, Brethren, teaching is not all. We must come to persuasion with men, and that persuasion must be very persevering. Certain men we must dog day after day with our entreaties. Some souls will not come with one invitation, they must therefore be plied with many. I remember a minister who went to see a dying laborer, and the man growled from his bed, "Tell him to be gone--I want none of the likes of him to disturb me." He called again, and received the same rude answer. He called again, and went halfway up the stairs. He heard an oath, and would not intrude. He continued to call till he had numbered twenty times, and the twenty-first time the man said, "Well, as you are so set on it, you may come in," and he did go in, and that soul was won for God! Humanly speaking, where had that man been but for persevering zeal? When the Lord means to save men by you, He will give you perseverance in seeking them. He will work in you mightily by His Spirit. You will feel a determination, that twist and turn as they may with indefatigable earnestness of self-destruction, you will still pursue them if by any means you may prevent their everlasting misery. Earnest zeal is a natural result of the Holy Spirit's working upon the souls of men. Whenever the Spirit of God comes, He sanctifies in men the natural instinct which leads them to wish others to be like themselves. Whether a man is bad or good, he seeks to make others like himself. The Holy Spirit lays hold of this and constrains Christians to desire to bring others to their state of mind. This done, He arouses in the Christian mind the commendable principle of love to our fellow men. Having experienced the blessedness of salvation for ourselves, we desire to see others enjoying like happiness. The patriot's bosom glows with the same passion as before, but now it is refined and purified, and he prays for his nation that not only it may be free, but that the Spirit of God may make it free, indeed. The Holy Spirit bestirs in us the impulse of gratitude, "Has Christ saved me?" Then the man exclaims, "I will live for Him!" The Spirit gives impetus to that suggestion, and we resolve that since Jesus has loved us so, we will give to Him all that we are, and all that we have. In addition to this, the Holy Spirit sanctifies many other natural emotions. Such, for instance, that which we sometimes call the esprit de corps, by which men are moved to desire the prosperity of the community to which they belong. The Holy Spirit makes us feel one with Christ's Church and we ardently desire her success. A holy emulation as to which shall serve the Master most runs through our ranks--not that we may get honor--but that we may honor Him. We cannot endure it that our Brethren should go to the war and we sit still. We begin to be afraid lest the denunciation should go forth against us, "Curse you Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse you bitterly the inhabitants thereof, because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty." Inspired by such feelings we rush to the fight that we may rescue souls for Christ. Then the Spirit in some men--I pray it may be in your case, my dear Friends--sheds abroad the love of Christ at such a rate that the soul is all on fire to exalt Christ. No, in some He has made this sacred passion to eat them up till they have been consumed with holy zeal. Like men inspired, like ancient Apostles, certain choice spirits have lived the life of Christ on earth with an awful vehemence of enthusiasm. Wherever such men are raised up, God is about to save souls! Whenever you listen to a man who is carried away by an all-consuming desire for the glory of God, you may conclude that he is the instrument of God to thousands. His lips shall feed many, he shall be the spiritual progenitor of tribes of Believers. Thus where the Spirit of God comes, energy is evinced and souls are saved. And we do not find it otherwise. I would have you notice, once more, that the whole history of the Church confirms what I have stated. When the Holy Spirit descended, there were two signs of His Presence. The one was a rushing mighty wind, the other was the tongue of fire. Now if the Holy Spirit intended to do all the work Himself--without using us as earnest instruments-- the first emblem would have been stagnant air. And the next might have been a mass of ice, or what you will, but certainly not a tongue of fire. The first emblem was not only wind, but it was a mighty wind, and not only that, but a rushing mighty wind, as if to show us that He intended to set every spiritual sail in the most rapid motion. And as birds are drifted before the gale, so would He impel His people forward with His mighty influences. The other emblem was fire, a consuming, devouring, imperial element. May we be baptized in the Holy Spirit, and in fire--and so we shall know what is meant by the symbol. Our Lord's commencement of the Gospel ministry was signalized by vehemence. Here is His own experience, "From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of Heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force." Christ's ministry and life were notably earnest, He was clad with zeal as with a cloak. His Apostles, also, were men so vehement that in their earliest deliverances they were thought to be drunken with wine. Every era of the Church's prosperity has been marked by this same holy violence. Hear Chrysostom speak, he is no player upon a goodly instrument, he gives forth no dulcet tones for gentle ears. Listen to his denunciation of the Empress Eudoxia! Hear how he denounces the sins of the times! How vehemently he calls upon men to escape for their lives because of coming judgment! Listen to Augustine, his vehement tones you will not soon forget. Turn to the notable era of the Reformation. The men who worked the Reformation were no dullards, no men of polite speech, of elegant and dainty sentences. Luther was a type of them all, vehement to the extreme of vehemence. I say not that their natural violence was the power which worked the Reformation, but that the Holy Spirit made their hearts vehement, and so they worked marvels. And we, dear Brethren--if we are to see in these days a genuine revival of religion, worthy of the name--must return to the old enthusiasm which once made the Church fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners. O that we may live to see it, and the Lord's name shall be glorified! The conclusion of the whole matter is just this--let us combine the two things of which we have spoken. Dear Brethren, let us rely upon the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit only. Let us not conduct a warfare at our own charges. Let us believe that without the Lord, nothing good can be done. But let us rest assured that Jesus is never absent where He gives the spirit of prayer, as He has given to this Church. And that He never deserts those to whom He vouchsafes holy zeal for His kingdom, such as He has bestowed on many here present. Let us be encouraged by His Presence. Gideon, when he obtained the token of the fleece wet with dew, and when by night he heard the story of the barley cake that overturned the tents of Midian--because God was with him--did not straightway go to his home and renounce the enterprise. No, but on the contrary, thus encouraged, he gathered together his three hundred valiant men in the darkness of the night. They broke the pitchers, bade the torches shine, and shouted the watchword, "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon! The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!" Even so let it be, by God's Grace, with us at this hour. Knowing that God the Holy Spirit is with us, let us lift the cry amid the midnight of our age, "The sword of the Lord and of His Son Jesus!" and we shall see what God will do, for He will surely put to flight the armies of the aliens, and get to Himself renown. But, Brethren, let us combine with this confidence in the Holy Spirit, the most earnest effort on the part of everyone to do all he can. I have a scene before my mind's eye at this moment. I see in this Church and neighborhood the counterpart of the mountainside when the multitude were fainting for lack of bread. They must be fed, Christ willed it. The dis- ciples must bring their barley loaves and fishes--what were they among so many? Christ must break and multiply. The disciples must receive from His hands. They must then go among the many, the fifties and the hundreds, and break the bread that Christ had blessed--for the hungry must be fed. Not only men, but women and children must be satisfied. Behold, my Brethren, this great city hungry and faint, and ready to die. Bring here, all you disciples of Christ, your loaves and fishes--I mean not to me but to the Master. What you have of ability, however slender, bring it out. Christ will not begin to multiply till you have brought forth all you have. Miracles are not to be expected till nature is brought to a nonplus. Bring out, then, whatever of talent or Divine Grace you have--consecrate it all to Jesus--and then as He begins to multiply, stand ready as your master's servants to wait upon the crowd. And if they push and clamor, yet weary not--break the bread till every soul shall have been supplied. Go on, go on, and do not say the toil is hard! It is so blessed to do good to others--it is thrice blessed--no, sevenfold blessed, to turn a sinner from the error of his ways, and save a soul from death! No, weary not, though you have been so long at it that your spirit is faint. My Brother, your physical frame is weary, but be of good cheer. Do you not hear them? Hearken, I pray you! Up yonder, there are angels bending from their thrones, and I think I hear them say, "How blessed a work to feed the hungry, and those men, how honored to be permitted to hand round the Master's precious gifts! Do they not whisper, "We would gladly be with them"? One bright spirit thinks he would exchange his crown with the meanest of the disciples, if he might share the service of Gospel teaching! Might they not envy you--those blessed harpers upon the sea of glass--because you can do what they cannot? You can tell of Jesus, you can fetch in the prodigals, you can find the lost jewels for the Master's crown! I charge you, my Brethren, by the living God--unless your religion is hypocrisy--help me this month, help my Brethren, the Elders and Deacons, help us everyone of you. By the blood that bought you, if you are, indeed, redeemed-- by the Holy Spirit that is in you, except you be reprobates--by everything that God in loving kindness has done for you--I charge you come to the help of the Master in this, the hopeful hour. So may the Lord do unto you as you shall deal with us this day. If you shall, indeed, consecrate yourselves to Him, and serve Him, may He enrich you with the increase of God, and may the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds. But if you refuse your service, the Lord shall judge you. He that knows his Master's will and does it not, shall be beaten with many stripes. __________________________________________________________________ Sinners Bound with the Cords of Sin A Sermon (No. 915) Delivered on Lord's-Day Morning, February 13th, 1870, by C. H. SPURGEON, At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington "His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins."--Proverbs 5:22. THE first sentence has reference to a net, in which birds or beasts are taken. The ungodly man first of all finds sin to be a bait, and, charmed by its apparent pleasantness he indulges in it, and then he becomes entangled in its meshes so that he cannot escape. That which first attracted the sinner, afterwards detains him. Evil habits are soon formed, the soul readily becomes accustomed to evil, and then, even if the man should have lingering thoughts of better things, and form frail resolutions to amend, his iniquities hold him captive like a bird in the fowler's snare. You have seen the foolish fly descend into the sweet which is spread to destroy him, he sips, and sips again, and by-and-by he plunges boldly in to feast himself greedily: when satisfied, he attempts to fly, but the sweet holds him by the feet and clogs his wings; he is a victim, and the more he struggles the more surely is he held. Even so is it with the sins of ungodly men, they are at first a tempting bait, and afterwards a snare. Having sinned, they become so bewitched with sin, that the scriptural statement is no exaggeration: "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do evil." The first sentence of the text also may have reference to an arrest by an officer of law. The transgressor's own sins shall take him, shall seize him; they bear a warrant for arresting him, they shall judge him, they shall even execute him. Sin, which at the first bringeth to man a specious pleasure, ere long turneth into bitterness, remorse, and fear. Sin is a dragon, with eyes like stars, but it carrieth a deadly sting in its tail. The cup of sin, with rainbow bubbles on its brim, is black with deep damnation in its dregs. O that men would consider this, and turn from their delusions. To bring torment to the guilty, there is little need that God should, literally in the world to come, pile up Tophet with its wood and much smoke, nor even that the pit should be digged for the ungodly in order to make them miserable; sin shall of itself bring forth death. Leave a man to his own sins, and hell itself surrounds him; only suffer a sinner to do what he wills, and to give his lusts unbridled headway, and you have secured him boundless misery; only allow the seething caldron of his corruptions to boil at its own pleasure, and the man must inevitably become a vessel filled with sorrow. Be assured that sin is the root of bitterness. Gild the pill as you may, iniquity is death. Sweet is an unholy morsel in the mouth, but it will be wormwood in the bowels. Let but man heartily believe this, and surely he will not so readily be led astray. "Surely in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird," and shall man be more foolish than the fowls of the air? will he wilfully pursue his own destruction? will he wrong his own soul? Sin, then, becomes first a net to hold the sinner by the force of custom and habit, and afterwards, a sheriffs officer to arrest him, and to scourge him with its inevitable results. The second sentence of our text speaks of the sinner being holden with cords, and a parable may be readily fashioned out of the expression. The lifelong occupation of the ungodly man is to twist ropes of sin. All his sins are as so much twine and cord out of which ropes may be made. His thoughts and his imaginations are so much raw material, and while he thinks of evil, while he contrives transgression, while he lusts after filthiness, while he follows after evil devices, while with head, and hand, and heart he pursues eagerly after mischief, he is still twisting evermore the cords of sin which are afterwards to bind him. The binding meant is that of a culprit pinioned for execution. Iniquity pinions a man, disables him from delivering himself from its power, enchains his soul, and inflicts a bondage on the spirit far worse than chaining of the body. Sin cripples all desires after holiness, damps every aspiration after goodness, and thus, fettering the man hand and foot, delivers him over to the executioner, which executioner shall be the wrath of God, but also sin itself, in the natural consequences which in every case must flow from it. Samson could burst asunder green withes and new ropes, but when at last his darling sin had bound him to his Delilah, that bond he could not snap, though it cost him his eyes. Make a man's will a prisoner, and he is a captive indeed. Determined independence of spirit walks at freedom in a tyrant's Bastille, and defies a despot's hosts; but a mind enslaved by sin builds its own dungeon, forges its own fetters, and rivets on its chains. It is slavery indeed when the iron enters into the soul. Who would not scorn to make himself a slave to his baser passions? and yet the mass of men are such--the cords of their sins bind them. Thus, having introduced to you the truth which this verse teaches, namely, the captivating, enslaving power of sin, I shall advance to our first point of consideration. This is a solution to a great mystery; but then, secondly, it is itself a greater mystery; and when we have considered these two matters it will be time for us to note what is the practical conclusion from this line of thought. I. First, then, the doctrine of the text, that iniquity entraps the wicked as in a net, and binds them as with cords is A SOLUTION OF A GREAT MYSTERY. When you and I first began to do good by telling out the gospel, we labored under the delusion that as soon as our neighbors heard of the blessed way of salvation they would joyfully receive it, and be saved in crowds. We have long ago seen that pleasant delusion dispelled; we find that our position is that of the serpent-charmer with the deaf adder, charm we ever so wisely, men will not hear so as to receive the truth. Like the ardent reformer, we have found out that old Adam is too strong for young Melancthon. We now perceive that for a sinner to receive the gospel involves a work of grace that shall change his heart and renew his nature. Yet none the less is it a great mystery that it should be so. It is one of the prodigies of the god of this world that he makes men love sin, and abide in indifference as if they were fully content to be lost. It is a marvel of marvels that man should be so base as to reject Christ, and abide in wilful and wicked unbelief. I will try and set forth this mystery, in the way in which, I dare say, it has struck many an honest hearted worker for Jesus Christ. Is it not a mysterious thing that men should be content to abide in a state of imminent peril? Every unconverted man is already condemned. Our Lord has said it: "He that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed on the Son of God." Every unregenerate man is not only liable to the wrath of God in the future, but the wrath of God abideth on him. It is on him now, it always will remain upon him; as long as he is what he is, it abideth on him. And yet in this state men do not start, they are not amazed or alarmed, they are not even anxious. Sabbath after Sabbath they are reminded of their unhappy position: it makes us unhappy to think they should be in such a state, but they are strangely at ease. The sword of vengeance hangs over them by a single hair, yet sit they at their banquets, and they laugh and sport as though there were no God, no wrath to come, no certainty of appearing before the judgment-seat of Christ. See a number of persons in a train that has broken down. The guard has only to intimate that another train is approaching, and that it may perhaps dash into the carriages and mangle the passengers; he has only to give half a hint, and see how the carriage doors fly open, how the travelers rush up the embankment, each one so eager for his own preservation as to forget his fellow's. Yet here are men and women by hundreds and thousands, with the fast-rushing train of divine vengeance close behind them; they may almost hear the sound of its thundering wheels, and, lo, they sit in all quietness, exposed to present peril and in danger of a speedy and overwhelming destruction. "Tis strange. tis passing strange, tis wonderful." Here is a mystery indeed, that can only be understood in the light of the fact that these foolish beings are taken by their sing, and bound by the cords of their iniquities. Be it ever remembered that before very long these unconverted men and women, many of whom are present this morning, will be in a stale whose wretchedness it is not possible for language fully to express. Within four-and-twenty hours their spirits may be summoned before the bar of God; and, according to this book, which partially uplifts the veil of the future, the very least punishment that can fall upon an unconverted soul will cause it "weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth." All they had endured, of whom it is written, that they wept and gnashed their teeth, was to be shut out into outer darkness, nothing more; no stripes had then fallen, they had not yet been shut up in the prison-house of hell, only the gate of heaven was shut, only the light of glory was hid; and straightway there was weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. What, then, will be the woe of the lost when positive punishment is inflicted? As for what they will endure who have beard the gospel, but have wilfully rejected it, we have some faint notion from the Master's words: "It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for them." We know that it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, for "our God is a consuming fire." From this platform there rings full often that question, "How shall ye escape if ye neglect so great salvation?" And yet for all this, men are willing to pass on through time into eternity regardless of the escape which God provides, turning aside from the only salvation which can rescue them from enduring "the blackness of darkness for ever." O reason, art thou utterly fled? Is every sinner altogether brutish? If we should meet with a man condemned to die, and tell him that pardon was to be had, would he hear us with indifference? Would he abide in the condemned cell and use no means for obtaining the boon of life and liberty? Yes, there awaits the sinner a more awful doom, and a more terrible sentence, and we are sent to publish a sure pardon from the God of heaven; and yet thousands upon thousands give us no deep heartfelt attention, but turn aside and perish in their sins. O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep for the folly of the race to which I belong, and mourn over the destruction of my fellow men! It often strikes us with wonder that men do not receive the gospel of Jesus Christ, when we recollect that the gospel is so plain. If it were a great mystery one might excuse the illiterate from attending to it. If the plan of salvation could only be discovered by the attentive perusal of a long series of volumes, and if it required a classical training and a thorough education, why then the multitude of the poor and needy, whose time is taken up with earning their bread, might have same excuse; but there is under heaven no truth more plain than this, "He that believeth on the Lord Jesus hath everlasting life;" "He that believeth and is baptised, shall be saved." To believe--that is, simply to trust Christ. How plain! There is no road, though it ran straight as an arrow, that can be more plain than this. Legible only by the light they give, but all so legible that be who runs may read, stand these soul-quickening words, "Believe and live." Trust Christ and your sins are forgiven; you are saved. This is so plain a precept, that I may call it a very A B C for infants, yet men receive it not. Are they not indeed holden by the cords of their sins when they refuse to obey? Moreover, brethren, there is a wonderful attractiveness in the gospel. If the gospel could possibly be a revelation of horrors piled on horrors, if there were something in it utterly inconsistent with reason, or something that shocked all the sensitive affections of our better part, we might excuse mankind, but the gospel is just this: man is lost, but God becomes man to save him, "The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." Out of infinite love to his enemies the Son of God took upon himself human flesh, that he might suffer in the room and stead of men what they ought to have suffered. The doctrine of substitution, while it wondrously magnifies the grace of God and satisfies the justice of God, methinks ought to strike you all with love because of the disinterested affection which it reveals on Jesus Christ's part. O King of Glory, dost thou bleed for me? O Prince of Life, canst thou lie shrouded in the grave for me? Doth God stoop from his glory to be spat upon by sinful lips? Doth he stoop from the splendor of heaven to be "despised and rejected of men," that men may be saved? Why, it ought to win every human ear, it ought to entrance every human heart. Was ever love like this? Go ye to your poets, and see if they have ever imagined anything nobler than the love of Christ the Son of God for the dying sons of men! Go to your philosophers, and see if in all their maxims they have ever taught a diviner philosophy than that of Christ's life, or ever have imagined in their pictures of what men ought to be, an heroic love like that which Christ in very deed displayed! We lift before you no gory banner that might sicken your hearts; we bring before you no rattling chains of a tyrant's domination; but we lift up Jesus crucified, and "Love" is written on the banner that is waved in the forefront of our hosts; we bid you yield to the gentle sway of love, and not to the tyranny of terror. Alas! men must be bound, indeed, and fettered fast by an accursed love to sin, or else the divine attractions of a crucified Redeemer would win their hearts. Consider, my friends, you who love the souls of your fellow men, how marvellous it is that men should not receive the gospel when the commandment of the gospel is not burdensome! Methinks if it had been written that no man should enter heaven except by the way of martyrdom, it had been wisdom for every one of us to give our bodies to be burned, or to be stretched upon the rack; yea, if there had been no path to escape from the wrath of God, but to be flayed alive with Bartholomew, enduring present but exquisite torture, it would have been but a cheap price for an escape from wrath, and an entrance into heaven. But I find in God's word prescribed as the way of salvation, no such physical agonies. No austerities are commanded; not even the milder law which governed the Pharisee when he "fasted thrice in the week." Only this is written--"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved;" and the precept of the Christian's life is, "Love thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." Most pleasant duties these of love! What more sweet? What more delightful than to permit the soul to flow out in streams of affection? The ways of true religion are not irksome, her ways are pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. What, heaven given for believing? What, heaven's gate opened only for knocking, and boons all priceless bestowed for nothing but the asking? Yet they will not ask, they will not knock. Alas, my God, what creatures are men! Alas, O sin, what monsters hast thou made mankind, that they will forget their own interests, and wrong their own souls! Further, it is clear that men must be fast held by the bondage of their sins when we recollect that, according to the confession of the most of them, the pleasures of sin are by no means great. I have heard them say themselves that they have been satiated after a short season of indulgence We know how true the word is, "Who hath woe? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine." No form of sin has ever been discovered yet that has yielded satisfaction. You shall look at those who have had all that heart could wish, and have without restraint indulged their passions, and you shall find them to be in their latter end amongst the most wretched rather than the most satisfied of mankind. Yet for these pleasures--I think I degrade the word when I call them pleasures--for these pleasures they are willing to pawn their souls and risk everlasting woe; and all this while, be it remembered, to add to the wonder, there are pleasures to be found in godliness; they do not deny this, they cannot without belying their own observation. We who are at least as honest as they are, bear our testimony that we never knew what true happiness was till we gave our hearts to Christ; but since then our peace has been like a river. We have had our afflictions, we have suffered grievous bodily pain, we have endured mental depression, we have been heavily burdened, we have borne many trials; but we can say-- "We would not change our blest estate For all the world calls good or great." "Happy are the people whose God is the Lord!" We can set our seal to this experimentally. See ye then, my brethren, these poor souls will prefer the pleasures that mock them to the pleasures that alone can satisfy. If we had to die like dogs, it would be worth while to be a Christian. If there were no hereafter, and our only consideration were who should enjoy this life the best, it would be the wisest thing to be a servant of God and a soldier of the cross. I say not it would ensure our being rich, I say not it would ensure our being respected, I say not it would ensure our walking smoothly and free from outward trouble; but I do say that because of "the secret something which sweetens all," because of the profound serenity which true religion brings, the Christian life out-masters every other, and there is none to be compared therewith. But think ye for awhile what the ungodly man's life is! I can only compare it to that famous diabolical invention of the Inquisition of ancient times. They had as a fatal punishment for heretics, what they called the "Virgin's Kiss." There stood in a long corridor the image of the Virgin. She outstretched her arms to receive her heretic child; she looked fair, and her dress was adorned with gold and tinsel, but as soon as the poor victim came into her arms the machinery within began to work, and the arms closed and pressed the wretch closer and closer to her bosom, which was set with knives, and daggers, and lancets, and razors, and everything that could cut and tear him, till he was ground to pieces in the horrible embrace; and such is the ungodly man's life. It standeth like a fair virgin, and with witching smile it seems to say, "Come to my bosom, no place so warm and blissful as this;" and then anon it begins to fold its arms of habit about the sinner, and he sins again and again, brings misery into his body, perhaps, if he fall into some form of sin, stings his soul, makes his thoughts a case of knives to torture him, and grinds him to powder beneath the force of his own iniquities. Men perceive this, and dare not deny it; and yet into this virgin's bosom they still thrust themselves, and reap the deep damnation that iniquity must everywhere involve. Alas, alas, my God! And now, once more, this terrible mystery, which is only solved by men's being held by their sins, has this added to it, that all the while in the case of most of you now present, all that I have said is believed, and a great deal of it is felt. I mean this: if I were talking with persons who did not believe they had a soul, or believe in the judgment to come, or believe in the penalty of sin, or believe in the reward of righteousness, I should see some reason why they rejected the great salvation; but the most of you who attend this house of prayer--I think I might say all--have scarcely ever had a doubt about these things. You would be very much horrified if any one would insinuate that you did not believe the Bible to be the word of God. You have a little Pharisaism in your soul, that you think you are not as scoffers are, nor infidels. I own you are not, but I grieve to say I think you are more inconsistent than they. If these things be a fiction, well, sirs, your course is rational; but if these things be realities, what shall I say for you when I plead with God on your behalf? What excuse can I make for you? If you profess to believe these things, act as though you believe them; if you do not, practically act so. Why do you profess to own them as the truth? The case is worse, for you not only believe these thing's to be true, but some of you have felt their power. You have gone home from this place, and you could not help it, you have sought your chamber and bowed your knee in prayer; such prayer as it was, for, alas! your goodness has been like the morning cloud and the early dew. I know some of you who have had to break off some of your sins, for your conscience would not let you rest in them. Yet you are unbelievers still, still you are undecided, still you are unsaved, and at this moment, if your soul were required of you, nothing would be in prospect but a fearful looking for of judgment and of fiery indignation. O my hearer, you whose conscience has been at times awakened, in whom the arrows of the great King have found a lodging place, in whom they are rankling still, yield, I pray thee, yield to the divine thrusts, and give up thy contrite spirit to thy Redeemer's hands. But if thou do not, what shall I say to thee? The kingdom of God has been thrust from you by yourselves. Be sure of this, it has come near you, and in coming near it has involved solemn responsibilities which I pray you may not have to feel the weight of in the world to come. Here, then, stands the riddle, that man is so set against God and his Christ that he never will accept eternal salvation until the Holy Spirit, by a supernatural work, overcomes his will and turns the current of his affections; and why is this? The answer lies in the text, because his own iniquities have taken him, and he is holden with the cords of his sin. For this reason he will not come unto Christ that he may have life; for this reason he cannot come, except the Father which hath sent Christ draw him. II. But now, secondly, I pass on to observe that though this is the solution of one mystery, IT IS IN ITSELF A GREATER MYSTERY. It is a terrible mystery that man should be so great a fool, so mad a creature as to be held by cords apparently so feeble as the cords of his own sins. To be bound by reason is honorable; to be hold by compulsion, if you cannot resist it, is at least not discreditable; but to be held simply by sin, by sin and nothing else, is a bondage which is disgraceful to the human name. It lowers man to the last degree, to think that be should want no fetter to hold him but the fetter of his own evil lusts and desires. Let us just think of one or two cords, and you will see this. One reason why men receive not Christ and are not saved, is because they are hampered by the sin of forgetting God. Think of that for a minute. Men forget God altogether. The commission of many a sin has been prevented by the presence of a child. In the presence of a fellow creature, ordinarily a man will feel himself under some degree of restraint. Yet that eye which never sleeps, the eye of the eternal God, exercises no restraint on the most of men. If there were a child in that chamber thou wouldst respect it-but God being there thou canst sin with impunity. If thy mother or thy father were there thou wouldst not dare offend, but God who made thee and whose will can crush thee, thy lawful sovereign, thou takest no more account of him than though he were a dog, yea, not so much as that. Oh, strange thing that men should thus act! And yet with many it is not because of the difficulty of thinking of God. Men of study, for instance, if they are considering the works of God, must be led up to thoughts of God. Galen was converted from being an atheist while in the process of dissecting the human body; he could not but see the finger of God in the nerves and sinews, and all the rest of the wonderful embroidery of the human frame. There is not an emmet or an infusorial animalcule beneath the microscope but what as plainly as tongue can speak, saith, "Mortal, think of God who made thee and me." Some men travel daily over scenes that naturally suggest the Creator; they go down to the sea in ships, and do business on great waters, where they must see the works of the Lord, and yet they even manage to become the most boisterous blasphemers against the sacred majesty of the Most High, in his very temple where everything speaks of his glory. But you will tell me perhaps, some of you, that you are not engaged in such pursuits. I reply, I know it. Many of you have to labor with your hands for your daily bread, in occupations requiring but little mental exercise. So much the more guilty then are you that when your mind is not necessarily taken up with other things, you still divert it from all thoughts of God. The working man often find is it very possible to spend his leisure hours in politics, and to amuse his working hours by meditating upon schemes more or less rational concerning the government of his country, and will he dare to tell me therefore that he could not during that time think of God? There is an aversion to God in your heart, my brother, or else it would not be that from Monday morning to Saturday night you forget him altogether. Even when sitting here you find it by no means a pleasant thing to be reminded of your God, and yet if I brought up the recollection of your mother, perhaps in heaven, the topic would not be displeasing to you. What owe you to your mother compared with what you owe to your God? If I spoke to you of some dear friend who has assisted you in times of distress, you would be pleased that I had touched upon such a chord; and may I not talk with you concerning your God, and ask you why do you forget him? Have you good thoughts for all but the best? Have you kind thoughts of gratitude for every friend but the best friend that man can have? My God! my God! why do men treat thee thus? Brightest, fairest, best, kindest, and most tender, and yet forgotten by the objects of thy care! If men were far away from God, and it were a topic abstruse and altogether beyond reach, something might be said. But imagine a fish that despised the ocean and yet lived in it, a man who should be unconscious of the air he breathes! "In him we live and move and have our being; we are also his offspring." He sends the frost, and he will send the spring; he sends the seed-time and the harvest, and every shower that drops with plenty comes from him, and every wind that blows with health speeds forth from his mouth. Wherefore then is he to be forgotten when everything reminds you of him? This is a sin, a cruel sin, a cursed sin, a sin indeed that binds men hard and fast, that they will not come to Christ that they may have life; but it is strange, it is beyond all miracles a miracle, that such a folly as this should hold men from coming to Christ. Another sin binds all unregenerate hearts; it is the sin of not loving the Christ of God. I am not about to charge any person here with such sins as adultery, or theft, or blasphemy, but I will venture to say that this is a sin masterly and gigantic, which towers as high as any other--the sin of not loving the Christ of God. Think a minute. Here is one who came into the world out of pure love, for no motive but mercy, with nothing to gain, but though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor; why then is he not loved? The other day there rode through these streets a true hero, a brave bold man who set his country free, and I do remember how I heard your shouts in yonder street, and you thronged to look into the lion-like face of Italy's liberator. I blame you not, I longed to do the same myself, he well deserved your shouts and your loudest praises. But what had he done compared with what the Christ of God has done in actually laying down his life to redeem men from bondage, yielding up himself to the accursed death of the cross that man might be saved through him? Where are your acclamations, sirs, for this greater Hero? Where are the laurels that you cast at his feet? Is it nothing to you, is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by, is it nothing to you that Jesus should die? Such a character, so inexpressibly lovely, and yet despised! Such a salvation, so inexpressibly precious, and yet rejected! Oh, mystery of iniquity! indeed, the depths of sin are almost as fathomless as the depths of God, and the transgressions of the wicked all but as infinite in infamy as God is infinite in love. I might also speak of sins against the Holy Ghost that men commit, in that they live and even die without reverential thoughts of him or care about him; but I shall speak of one sin, and that is the mystery that men should be held by the sin of neglecting their souls. You meet with a person who neglects his body, you call him fool, if, knowing that there is a disease, he will not seek a remedy. If, suffering, from some fatal malady, he never attempts to find a cure, you think the man is fit only for a lunatic asylum. But a person who neglects his soul, be is but one of so numerous a class, that we overlook the madness. Your body will soon die, it is but as it were the garment of yourself and will be worn out; but you yourself are better than your body as a man is better than the dress he wears. Why spend you then all thoughts about this present life and give none to the life to come? It has long been a mystery who was the man in the iron mask. We believe that the mystery was solved some years ago, by the conjecture that he was the twin brother of Louis XIV., King of France, who, fearful lest he might have his throne disturbed by his twin brother, whose features were extremely like his own, encased his face in a mask of iron and shut him up in the Bastille for life. Your body and your soul are twin brothers. Your body, as though it were jealous of your soul, encases it as in an iron mask of spiritual ignorance, lest its true lineaments, its immortal lineage should be discovered, and shuts it up within the Bastille of sin, lest getting liberty and discovering its royalty, it should win the mastery over the baser nature. But what a wretch was that Louis XIV., to do such a thing to his own brother! How brutal, how worse than the beasts that perish! But, sir, what art thou if thou doest thus to thine own soul, merely that thy body may be satisfied, and thy earthly nature may have a present gratification? O sirs, be not so unkind, so cruel to yourselves. But yet this sin of living for the mouth and living for the eye, this sin of living for what ye shall eat and what ye shall drink, and wherewithal ye shall be clothed, this sin of living by the clock within the narrow limits of the time that ticks by the pendulum, this sin of living as if this earth were all and there were nought beyond--this is the sin that holds this City of London, and holds the world, and binds it like a martyr to the stake to perish, unless it be set free. Generally, however, there also lies some distinct form of actual sin at the bottom of most men's impenitence. I will not attempt to make a guess, my dear hearer, as to what it may be that keeps thee from Christ, but without difficulty I could, I think, state what these sins generally are. Some men would fain be saved, but they would not like to tale up the cross and be despised as Christians. Some would fain follow Christ, but they will not give up their self-righteous pride; they want to have a part of the glory of salvation. Some men have a temper, which they do not intend to try to restrain. Others have a secret sin, too sweet for them to give it up; it is like a right arm, and they cannot come to the cutting of it off. Some enjoy company which is attractive, but destructive, and from that company they cannot fly. Men one way or another are held fast like birds with birdlime, till the fowler comes and takes them to their destruction. O that they were wise, for then they might be awakened out of this folly! But this still remaineth the mystery of mysteries, that those sins absurd and deadly, bind men as with cords, and hold them fast like a bull in a net. THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER IS THIS, a message sinner to thee, and saint, to thee. Sinner, to thee. Thou art held fast by thy sins, and I fear me much thou wilt be held so till thou perish, perish everlastingly. Man, does not this concern you? I lay last night by the hour together on my bed awake, tossing with a burden on my heart, and I tell thee that only burden that I had was thy soul. I cannot endure it, man, that thou shouldst be cast into the "lake that burneth with fire and brimstone." I believe that book as thou dost; believing it, I am alarmed at the prospect which awaits the unconverted. The more I look into the subject of the world to come, the more I am impressed that all those who would lessen our ideas of the judgment that God will bring upon the wicked, are waging war against God and against virtue and the best interests of men. "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." Do not try it, my friend, I pray thee do not try it. Run not this risk, this certainty of endless misery, I beseech thee, dare it not! What sayest thou, "What then should I do?" I venture to reply in the words of one of old, "Break off thy sins by righteousness, for it is time to seek the Lord." But thou repliest, "How can I break them off? they are like cords and bonds." Ah, soul, here is another part of thy misery, that thou hast destroyed thyself, but thou canst not save thyself; thou hast woven the net, thou hast made it fast and firm, but thou canst not tear it in pieces. Bat there is One who can, there is One upon whom the Spirit of the Lord descended that he might loose the prisoner. There is a heart that feels for thee in heaven, and there is One mighty to save, who can rescue thee. Breathe that prayer, "O set me free, thou Liberator of captive souls;" breathe the prayer now, and believe that he can deliver thee, and thou shalt yet, captive as thou art, go free, and this shall be thy ransom price, his precious blood; and this shall be the privilege of thy ransomed life, to love and praise him who hath redeemed thee from going down into the pit. But I said the conclusion of the whole matter had something to do with the child of God. It has this to do with him. Dear brother and sister in Christ, by the love you bear to your fellow sinners, never help to make the bonds of their sins stronger than they are--you will do so if you are inconsistent. They will say, "Why, such a one professes to be a saved man, and yet see how he lives!" Will you make excuses for sinners? It was said of Judah, by the prophet, that she had become a comfort to Sodom and Gomorrah. O never do this; never let the ungodly have to say, "There is nothing in it; it is all a lie; it is all a mere pretense; we may as well continue in sin, for see how these Christians act!" No, brethren, they have bonds enough without your tightening them or adding to them. In the next place, never cease to warn sinners. Do not stand by and see them die without lifting up a warning note. A house on fire, and you see it as you go to your morning's labor, and yet never lift up the cry of "Fire!" a man perishing, and yet no tears for him! Can it be so? At the foot of Mr. Richard Knill's likeness I notice these words, "Brethren, the heathen are perishing, will you let them perish?" I would like to have each of you apply to your own conscience the question, "Sinners are perishing, will you let them perish without giving them at least, a warning of what the result of sin must be?" My brethren, I earnestly entreat you who know the gospel to tell it out to others. It is God's way of cutting the bonds which confine men's souls; be instant, in season and out of season, in publishing the good news of liberty to the captives through the redeeming Christ. And lastly, as you and I cannot set these captives free, let us look to him who can. O let our prayers go up and let our tears drop down for sinners. Let it come to an agony, for I am persuaded we shall never get much from God by way of conversion till we feel we must have it, until our soul breaketh for the longing that it hath for the salvation of souls: when your cry is like that of Rachel, "Give me children or I die I" you shall not long be spiritually barren. When you must have converts, or your heart will break, God will hear you and send you an answer. The Lord bless you! May none of you be held by the cords of your sins, but may ye be bound with cords to the horns of God's altar as a happy and willing sacrifice to him that loved you. The Lord bless you for Jesus' sake. PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON--Proverbs 3. __________________________________________________________________ A Generous Proposal (No. 916) DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Come you with us, and we will do you good." Numbers 10:29. THESE ancient words, so simple, yet so sweet, fascinate us with a potent hallowed charm. They ring out their melody like a familiar air. The language of a heart full of kindness, inspired with faith, and inspirited with the enthusiasm of a hope so much Divine that the lapse of ages impairs not their force, or diminishes anything from their natural spontaneous freshness. This story of Hobab one can hardly read without remembering the Apostolic declaration that the Law was a "shadow of good things to come." A truly instructive shadow it was. In this instance the shadow is so like the image, the type so like the antitype, that we can almost see the Christian Church, and the convert as he is invited to unite with it. And we may behold in metaphor the blessings of which he may expect to be a partaker in so doing. "Come you with us, and we will do you good," seems to be quite as suitable an address from the lips of a Christian pastor as from those of the Prophet of Horeb, who was king in Jeshurun. We do not feel in the least degree hesitant as if we were wrenching the words from their natural association, or even exercising the slightest ingenuity in accommodating them to our own circumstances, so suitable do they seem for our use. The people of Israel in the wilderness were a type of the Church of Christ. The invitation here given was such as may be given to those who are proper subjects for communion with the Christian Church. We shall proceed accordingly, this evening, to talk to you upon four things. First, the nature of a true Church as it is depicted by Israel in the wilderness. Secondly, the obligation of such a Church to invite suitable persons to join it. Thirdly, the argument that the Church may use, and the inducements it will always have to offer in setting forth the benefits to be conferred on those who heartily respond. And fourthly, the scrupulous fidelity it behooves us, as members of the Church, to observe in keeping our pledge ever afterwards to seek the welfare of such as unite with our fellowship. I. First, then, WHAT ARE THE CHARACTERISTICS OF A TRUE CHURCH AS IT IS PICTURED BY ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS? We might prolong the answer to this question with many minute features, but it will be unnecessary, at present, to do more than give you a simple broad outline. The people in the wilderness were a redeemed people. They had been redeemed by blood and redeemed by power. The sprinkling of the blood of the paschal lamb over their lintels and their doorposts had secured their safety when the first-born of Egypt was slain. Thus they were redeemed by blood, while wonderful miracles were worked throughout the whole land. And at the last, when threatened and pursued by their oppressors, the whole of the pride and pomp of Egypt was destroyed in the Red Sea. They were, indeed, redeemed by power. So, all the true members of God's Church understand what the blood of sprinkling means. They have enjoyed a Passover through it. God has passed over them--passed over them in mercy. Justice has executed its warrant upon the Person of the Lamb, and they have escaped--they have been redeemed by blood. And the Holy Spirit has entered into their hearts and made them hate their former sins. He has delivered them from the dominant power of their inward corruptions, has set them free and brought them out of the bondage of sin. Thus they have also been redeemed by power, and no one has any right to think himself a member of Christ's Church unless by faith he has seen himself redeemed by blood--and in his experience has also been redeemed by the power of the Holy Spirit. But, according to our text and the context, the Israelites were a people who were passing through a land where they found no rest, neither did they desire any, for they were journeying to another country, the promised land, the Canaan. Now, here is another description of the true Church of God. They are not of the world, even as Christ is not of the world. This is not their rest. Here they have no continuing city. Objects which may suit men who have no outlook beyond death would not be suitable to them. That which rejoices the heart of the mere worldling gives them but very slender solace. Their hope and their consolation lie beyond the river. They look for a city that has foundations whose Builder and Maker is God. Judge then, my dear Hearer, whether you are a member of God's Church, of the Church of Jesus Christ. If you are, you are a stranger and a foreigner this night here below, however pleasant the tent of your pilgrimage may be. Your Father's house on High is your destination. You are an exile from your home, albeit to your faith's foreseeing eye its golden gates may never so clearly appear. You have not yet come to your rest, but there remains to you a rest, a rest to which you shall come in due time, though you have not yet reached it. May I entreat you to put these questions to your own hearts as they arise, and judge yourselves. Israel in the wilderness, according to the text, again, was a people walking by faith as to the future. Remember, the words are, "They were going to the place of which the Lord said, I will give it to you." They had never seen it--no one had come from it to tell them of it. True, in after days some spies had returned--but they brought up an ill report of the land, so that the people required even more faith, then, than they did before. If anyone had said to them, "But, if there is a land that flows with milk and honey, how will you gain it? The inhabitants thereof are strong and mighty--how are you sure that you will ever obtain this goodly land?" the only reply would have been, "The Lord has spoken to us concerning it." Every true Israelite had been instructed as to the Covenant God had made with Abraham when He said, "To you and to your seed will I give this land to possess it," and every true Israelite was expecting that His people should find a lodgment and a portion in that land evermore because of the Covenant which God had made with his fathers. They were walking, then, in that respect, by faith--looking for a country which they had not seen--traversing a desert in search of a land which as yet they had not known. And with only God's Word for their title deed and nothing more. And such are God's people now. As for joys to come, they have not tasted them--but they are looking for them because God has promised them. "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love Him. But God has revealed them unto us by His Spirit," and the Spirit reveals them only to our faith. If you ask me, "How do you know that there is a Heaven?" I must answer you, I believe it on God's testimony. I have no other warrant for it. No man has returned from that fair land to testify that he has heard the everlasting song, or seen the blessed citizens as they stand in their bright array before the Everlasting Throne. Nor want I that any such should return. God's Word is enough. Let that stand instead of the testimony of ten thousand angels, or of myriads of the white-robed host of spirits who might have returned to tell the tale. We walk by faith as Israel did of old. Are you walking by such a faith? Do you believe in the unseen future, and does the hope of an unseen reward make you despise the present rewards of sin? Are you willing to bear the reproach of Christ because you count it greater treasure than all the riches of Egypt? Are you willing, now, to take up with Christ's Cross because you believe in Christ's crown? Though you have not seen it, do you believe in it, and rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory? These people, also, as to their present circumstances were walking by faith. It was not merely faith which sang to them of Canaan, but it was faith that told them of the manna which fell day by day, and the water which flowed from the rock--which stream followed them in their journey. Why, they could not live in any other way in the wilderness but by faith in God, for from that arid strand there sprang nothing for their nourishment! Here and there a palm tree--now and then a cooling well. But for the most part, had it not been for the goodness of God, their way had been over a desert, cheerless, waste, and terrible. But He gladdened it for them, and made the place of His feet, and of their feet, too, right glorious, for His mercy and His loving kindness endure forever! Now, in this world the Christian man has to live by faith upon God as to present things. As to temporal necessities he must cast all his care on Him who cares for us, but especially as to all spiritual supplies the Christian has no stock of Grace. He has no inner spring within himself in his old nature. He has to look for everything that can sustain his new life from God, even the Father, who has promised not to forsake him. Now surely, my dear Hearer, you know whether you are living by present faith or not. If all your comfort is derived from that which you can handle, and hear, and see. And if your joys of life are only the outward things of the present--then you are no member of the Church of God. Whether you may have been baptized, or confirmed--whatever profession you may have made, or whatever sign you may have received--you do not belong to Christ's people--nor can you belong to them. But if you live by faith, I care not of what Church you are a member. If you are exhibiting day by day a living faith upon a living but unseen God. If your trust is in His Providence. If you daily resort to Christ for help and succor. If you have that faith which is the mark of God's elect, you may depend upon it that you are one of His. One other mark let us give among many more which might be mentioned. These people found, wherever they went, that they were surrounded by foes. In the wilderness the Amalekites were against them. When they crossed into the promised land all the inhabitants of Canaan were up in arms against them. So I think you will find it if you are a child of God. All places are full of snares. Events, prosperous or adverse, expose you to temptations. All things that happen to you, though God makes them work for good, in themselves would work for evil. Here on this earth the world is no friend to Divine Grace to help you on to God. The bias of the current is not towards Heaven. Alas, it is the other way! "Behold I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves." "The whole world lies in the Wicked One, and you are of God, little children." Darkness prevails. It cannot minister to your safety or to your happiness. Neither can the sinful world minister light to the understanding, peace to the conscience, joy to the heart, or holiness to the life of the Believer. You will have to fight continually. The last step you take will be a conflict, and you will never be able to sheathe your sword until you are in the bosom of Christ. Thus must you maintain the godly warfare-- "'Till with yonder blood-bought crowd You shall sing on Canaan's shore Songs oft triumph, sweet and loud War with Amalek no more." Here, then, are some of the marks of the Church of Christ. I hope that a part of that Church worships in this House of Prayer. A part of that Church will be found to worship in every House of Prayer where the disciples of our common Lord assemble, and the mystery of God and of the Father and of Christ is acknowledged. II. Let us pass on to the second word, which is this, that IT IS THE DUTY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO INVITE SUITABLE PERSONS TO JOIN WITH IT. As you read--"Come you with us, and we will do you good"--are not these the terms in which any Church should invite a suitable pastor to unite with it? I have always felt that they have a better application to a pastor than they have to the people. For it is said of Hobab, "You know how we are to encamp in the wilderness, and you shall be unto us instead of eyes." It was inviting a really efficient helper, who would be of great service to the Israelites, to come and cast in his lot with them. So should a Church expect to find in its pastor one who may guide them, because he knows how they are to encamp in the wilderness. One who may be to them, in some respects, instead of eyes. Their invitation should come in this way, not only, "Come you with us, that we may get good out of you"--that is one design--but it should also be, "Come you with us, that we may do you good. That we may hold up your hands, that we may sustain you by our prayers, that we may back you up by our efforts. That being led onward by you from one work of Christian activity to another, we may never fail you, never betray you, but may stand with you even to the last." I believe you will seldom get much good unless you are willing also to confer good. Those who are the nearest to the heart of the preacher, in all Christian service, will in all probability be most spiritually enriched under his ministry. I speak not of myself nor for myself, but I specially address myself now to those of you, my Hearers, who are members of other Churches. Do, I exhort you, love your ministers! Stand up for their character in all companies! Rally at their side in all their efforts--never let them have to regret your absence at the weeknight service, or at any other time, if you can help it. Let them see that you appreciate the men whom you have chosen to be over you in the Lord, and that you have said in inviting them to come among you, "Come you with us, and we will do you good." Not to linger on that view, however pertinent and seasonable, let us take the words as significant of the manner in which Churches should invite suitable persons to come among them as private members. Are there not those who go in and out merely as visitors worshipping with you, who have never joined hands with you in Covenant? They meet with you as mere hearers, under the same ministry, but they have not identified themselves with the brotherhood to sit down and feast with you at the Table of the Lord. To such as these the proposal may be made, and the welcome proffered. The conditions, of course, need to be thoroughly understood on our part as well as on theirs. We dare not invite anyone to join the visible Church who has not first joined the invisible Church. We do not believe that a man has any right to be baptized in water unless he has first been baptized in the Holy Spirit. Nor that anyone has a right to eat of the Lord's Supper, the outward signs of bread and wine, until he has eaten of the flesh and drank of the blood of the Son of Man, in a spiritual sense. He must have the essence of the symbol before we dare give the symbol. So a man must be vitally united to the living Church of Christ before he has any right to be professionally united there. Therefore it would be a sin on the part of any child of God to say to anyone whom he knew to be an unconverted person, "Come and unite yourself with the Church." No, that cannot be. First, dear Hearer, you must be one with Christ, reconciled to God, a Believer in the precious blood--and then afterwards you may come to the Church of God. But until then you have no part nor lot in this matter, for you are still in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity. Moses did not thus invite any strangers or neighbors indiscriminately, saying, "Come you with us," but he invited Hobab as one whom he well knew, and of whose fitness he could no doubt feel. Was not Raguel his father, the priest of Midian, a servant of the Most High God? And was not Hobab also a worshipper of Jehovah, the God of Israel? "Come you with us," says he, "you are our kith and kin. Birds of a feather flock together. Come you with us and we will do you good. You are one of our Brethren, come and welcome, nothing shall stand in the way. Come you with us, and we will do you good." Now, I have heard persons speak on this wise, "I believe that my child has been converted, but you must not think that I have pressed him, for I never spoke to my child about religion." I am heartily ashamed of a father who can say that! And I hope that he will be equally ashamed of himself. I quite agree, however, that no parent and no friend should press another to make a public profession of faith until he is as assured as he possibly can be that the fruits of the Spirit are put forth in that child, or that friend. But, once assured of that, there can be no credit in holding your tongue about a Christian duty. It is the duty of every child of God to be associated with the Christian Church, and surely it is part of our duty to instruct others to do what the Lord would approve of! Do not, therefore, hesitate to say to such as serve and fear the Lord, "How is it that you remain outside the pale of the visible Church? Come you with us, and we will do you good." So Moses did to Hobab. As it is a very kind and tender word, "Come you with us," let it be spoken persuasively. Use such reasoning as you can to prove that it is at once their duty and their privilege. Observe, Moses does not command, but he persuades. Nor does he merely make a suggestion or give a formal invitation, but he uses an argument. He puts it attractively, "And we will do you good." So, look the matter up--study it--get your arguments ready. Seek out inducements from your own experience. Draw a reason, and there and then try to persuade your Christian friends. Do it heartily. Observe how Moses puts it as from a very warm heart. "Come you with us. Give me your hand, my Brother. Come you with us, and we will do you good." There are no "ifs," "ands," or "buts." It is not, "Well, you may perhaps be welcome," but "Come you with us." Give a hearty, loving, warm invitation to those whom you believe to be your Brothers and Sisters in Christ. Do it repeatedly if once will not suffice. Observe in this case, Hobab said he thought he would depart to his own land and his kindred. But Moses returned to the charge, and says, "Leave us not, I pray you." How earnestly he puts it! He will have no put off. If at first it was a request, now it is a beseeching almost to entreaty--"Leave us not, I pray you." And how he repeats the old argument, but puts it in a better light--"If you go with us, yes, it shall be, that what goodness the Lord shall do unto us, the same will we do unto you." I would, therefore, earnestly say to Christian Brothers and Sisters here, look for some among our congregation, such as you believe to be godly people, and put to them this matter. I am sure they are losing much benefit, and quite certain that they are standing in an irregular position. If it is right for any one Christian not to be a member of a Church it is right for all Christians not to be members of Churches--consequently it would be right for there to be no visible Church, and ordinances might be dispensed with--for all these things must either exist through the maintenance of sacred order or else collapse with the breach of godly discipline. What is not the duty of one is not the duty of any--and what is the duty of one is the duty of all--for we all stand alike before God. If I may be innocent in abstaining from union with the people of God, so may all of you. Or if you may, so may I. There is no more obligation upon me to preach the Gospel than there is upon any one of you to make a profession of his faith. If you are a Christian, the same rule of love that prompts me to speak for my Lord should prompt you in your way to speak for your Lord. And if I should not be excusable if I remained silent, and refused to bear my testimony, neither will you be excusable, being a Christian, if you refuse to unite yourself with the people of God. Remember our Master's word, "Whoever therefore, shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in Heaven. But whoever shall deny Me before men," (which has the force there of not confessing), "him will I also deny before My Father which is in Heaven." Before I leave this point let me call your attention to a certain sense in which Christian men may address this invitation to all that they meet with. "Come you with us, and we will do you good." Not, "come and join our Church," not, "come and be members," not, "come and put on a profession of faith." You cannot say that to any but to those in whom you see the fruits of the Spirit. But you may say, and you ought to say, to ALL persons of all classes on all sides, "Come away from the seed of evildoers. Cast in your lot with the people of God. Leave the world, come on pilgrimage to the better country. Forsake the pursuit of vanities--lay hold on eternal life. Waste not all your thoughts upon the bootless cares of time--think about the momentous matters of eternity. "Why will you be companions of those who are upon the wrong side, and whose cause is the cause of evil? Why will you remain an enemy to God? Why will you be in an unreconciled state? We, by God's Grace, have cast in our lot with Christ and with His cause. We desire to live to His glory. Our ambition is to serve Him. If we could, we would live without sin, for we hate it and loathe it. If we could, we would be as the angels are, without a single fault. Come and cast in your lot with us--that is, believe. That is, trust a Savior slain. That is, put your soul into the custody of Christ the Intercessor. That is, press forward through a life of holiness on earth to a home of happiness in Heaven." "Come you with us, and we will do you good." So, then, the exhortation of our text which, strictly speaking, seems most applicable to the minister, becomes next suitable to the child of God who has not up to now cast in his lot with the company of our Lord's disciples. And after that, in a certain sense, it may be appropriately addressed to all who come under the sound of the Gospel. "Come you with us, and we will do you good." III. But now, our third observation is that THE MAIN ARGUMENT--THE MOST POWERFUL INCENTIVE WE CAN EVER USE IS THAT ASSOCIATION WITH THE CHURCH OF CHRIST WILL DO THOSE WHO ENTER INTO IT GOOD. I am sure it will, for I speak from experience. And if I were to call upon many scores, and even hundreds, in this House of Prayer, they would all bear the same testimony--that union with the people of God has done them good. The Church of God may say this, first, because she can offer to those who join with her good company. In the Church of God are those who are called "the excellent of the earth," in Whom David said was all his delight. In the Church of God are the humble, meek, and lowly. And, though in that Church there will come a traitorous Judas, yet there are not wanting the warm-spirited and loving John, the bold and daring Peter, the practical James, the well-instructed Paul in labors more abundant, and many of the precious sons of Zion and daughters of Jerusalem in like manner. Of whom, I might affirm, as the Apostle did of Priscilla and Aquila, they are my helpers in Christ Jesus, unto whom I not only give thanks, but also all the Churches of the Gentiles. Truly we can sing with heart-felt sincerity, Dr. Watts' paraphrase of David's Psalm -- "Here my best friends, my kindred dwell, Here God my Savior reigns." Good company is ever a good thing, and the children of God may say to their Brethren who have not yet joined with them, "Come you with us, and we will do you good," for we will introduce you to the goodly fellowship of the saints. Come join a section of the general assembly and Church of the First-Born whose names are written in Heaven, and whose work of faith, patience of hope, and labors of love are spread abroad throughout the world. "Come with us," the Church of God may say, "and you shall have good instruction," for it is in the true Church of God that the doctrines of Grace are preached, that the Covenant of Grace is unfolded, that the Person of Christ is extolled, that the work of the Spirit is magnified. All the precious things, indeed, which make up the spiritual meat of God's servants are brought forth and put upon the table every Sunday. There the good stewards bring forth things both new and old. In the midst of the Church the Good Shepherd makes us to lie down in the green pastures, and leads us be- side the still waters. Come you with us, and the teaching of the Church shall do you good--you shall hear those glorious doctrines which shall build you up in your most holy faith. "Come you with us, and we will do you good," in the best sense, for you shall feel in our midst the good Presence of God. Where two or three are gathered together in Christ's name, there is He in the midst of them. And in the greater assemblies of His people, when the solemn hymn swells up to Heaven and the fervent prayer rises like a cloud of sweet perfume, and the ministry of the Gospel is diffused like a sweet smelling savor of Christ unto God--there is God. There the Father is, receiving returning prodigals, accepting His dear children who feel the spirit of adoption. There the Son is, manifesting Himself unto them as He does not unto the world. There the Spirit is, working in them to will and to do of His own good pleasure, and helping their infirmities as a Comforter and an Advocate. Have you not often felt the Presence of God, my dear Brothers and Sisters, in your assemblies as the people of God? Can you not, therefore, say with the recollections in your glowing hearts of the consolations you have received in association with each other, "Come you with us, and we will do you good"? "Come with us again, for you shall participate in all the good offices of the Church." That is to say, my Christian Brothers and Sisters, if you will cast in your lot with us, if there is prayer, you shall have your share in it. We will pray for you in your trouble, and trial, and anguish. If a Brother's voice can intercede for you when your tongue is dumb with grief, you shall certainly have such help as they that can minister to you. Come you with us, for in the true Church of God there is sympathy. Genuine Believers are taught to "weep with those that weep," and to "rejoice with those that rejoice." They feel that they are members, one of another, and partakers of the same life with Jesus Christ. If there is anything to be found in ordinances you shall have a share of that good thing. If the Lord reveals Himself in the breaking of bread, you shall not be shut out from the Table. Come you with us, and when we behold Him you shall see Him, too. Come you with us, and if our fellowship is with Christ, you shall have a share in it. And if our conversation of the things of God is sweet and pleasant, you, too, shall have your say and your good word, and we will rejoice to hear you. We invite you to a pure brotherly fellowship, not to one of name only, but in deed and in heart. "Come you with us, and we will do you good." But the good that Hobab was to get was not only on the road. He must have got a deal of good on the road, for he saw in the sacrifice what he had never seen before. While he walked among those tents of Judah he must have felt that God was remarkably present there as he had never felt it among the tents of Midian. He saw there every morning the pillar of cloud, and every night the pillar of fire. He heard the sound of the silver trumpets. He saw the uplifting of the sacred banners, and the marching of the chosen host of God, and he must have felt, "This is a place more marvelous than any I have ever trod before in that falling manna, in that miraculous stream. I see everywhere the marks of Omnipotence, love, and wisdom as I never have seen them in all my solitary musings or my long wanderings aforetime." So, in the Church of God there are the footprints of Deity, there are marks of the sublime Presence of the Christ of God who abides in the furnace with His afflicted people. Signs of God's Presence such as all the world besides cannot exhibit. You shall get good on the road. But still, the main good that Hobab got was this--he went into the promised land with God's people. We read of his people, the Kenites dwelling in the land in aftertime. He seems to have become a partaker of the same Covenant with Israel, to have become part and parcel with them. So, the main blessing that you get from being united with the invisible Church of Christ through being part and parcel of the Body of Christ is reserved for the hereafter-- "When God makes up His last account Of natives in the Holy Mount; 'Twill be an honor to appear As one new born and nourished there." Woe unto those who shall have no part with Israel in the day when the lots shall be divided and the portions shall be given! Woe unto such as shall be found among the Amalekites or Canaanites--strangers to the chosen seed! But happy shall all they be who have God to be their God, for their portion shall be bliss forever. Come you, therefore, with us, for whatever good the Lord shall do unto us you shall be a partaker in it. IV. And now, lastly. All this being seriously pondered and clearly understood, the last point is a matter of very serious importance. Lest we should be found mere pretenders, LET ALL OF US WHO BELONG TO CHRIST'S CHURCH TAKE CARE TO MAKE THIS ARGUMENT TRUE. I speak to many Brothers and Sisters here who have long been joined to the visible Church of God, and I put these questions to them--How have you carried out this silent compact which has been made with the friends of Christ? You have promised to do them good--have you fulfilled your pledges? I am afraid few of us have done good to our fellow Christians up to the measure that we might have done, or that we ought to have done. Some professors, I fear, have forgotten the compact altogether. They joined the Church, but the idea of doing good to the rest of the community has scarcely entered into their mind. "Come you with us, and we will do you good." You say this, then, to the poor members of the Church. Has God prospered you? Do them good. Say not to them, "Be you warmed and be you filled," but as far as ever your ability can reach, minister to them that Christ may not have to say to you, "I was an hungered and you gave me no meat. I was thirsty and you gave me no drink." Let your charity be wide as the world, for God makes it to rain on the just and the unjust--but remember--He has a peculiar people, and He would have us to be a peculiar people unto Himself. Let us do good unto all men, but specially to those who are of the household of faith. If you know a Brother in Christ whose need is pressing, own him as a Brother--open your hands wide unto him--do him good in this respect. You that are old members of the Church, well established and instructed, you have virtually promised to do good to the young members--will you not try to do so? Some of them, perhaps, are not all you would like them to be. Mind you, you are not to condemn, but to reform them. Can you not gently prune the luxuriance of their branches that are a little too wild? Would it not be possible for you, in a loving and an affectionate manner, to assist them in the points in which they are weak? To lead them in the matters in which they err? Do them good--do not clamor against them with reproach, censure, sneer, and jibe. Nor wish to bind them down to conformity with your rules, judging them by the som-berness of your own disposition. What if they are lively and cheerful--try to make them merry and wise. Let them be happy and rejoice--seek that their happiness may be in Christ, and their rejoicing in the Lord. Do them good. There are some of your fellow Christians who are faint-hearted--not pleasant people to talk to. They will never cheer you much. They always look on the black side. They have always some trouble. They are terribly dull company--do not shun them, do them good. Strengthen the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees. Say to them that are of feeble heart, "Be strong. Fear not." Do not forsake them, but you that are spiritual bear their burdens, and help to make them rejoice. Some among your number will be backsliders--alas, that it should be so. Let not your coldness ever accelerate the pace at which they step aside--rather let your persevering care watch over them, that their first wandering may be soon checked. Little, alas, can be done to remedy backsliding when it goes far, but much may be done by nipping it in the bud. In the Church of God, prevention is infinitely better than cure. Watch over them, then. "If any man be overtaken in a fault, you that are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, remembering yourself lest you also be tempted." Some in the Church may be ignorant. There always were such. No standard of height is set up in the Word of God for all the recruits to be up to that level. No bylaw prescribes that none be received unless they are of a certain stature. If, therefore, some you meet with are very ignorant, do them good. Do not set about a report of any absurd remark that they may make, or any misapprehension they may have upon a point of Divinity. You were not always so wise as you are now--probably you are not so wise now as you think you are. But anyhow, I shall argue from the wisdom you possess your duty to impart. You have said, "Come you with us, and we will do you good." It is not doing any man good to smile at him, to find fault with him for not knowing. But it is doing him good to hide his shortcomings and help his progress. Once again--there may be some in your midst who are in a good deal of trouble. Have they no friends to sympathize and console them? Alas, friends in this world are often too much like swallows that are gone as soon as the first frost appears. Let it not be so with you--if you never owned him your friend before--be his friend now. Come to his aid if you possibly can. Let him have your countenance. Do not pass him because his black coat has a rusty hue. Do not get out of his way because you are afraid that he is short of cash. As far as ever you can, let him see, now he is in his trouble, that you did not value him for what he had, but for himself, for his character, for his attachment to Christ. If anybody has spoken ill of him, do not be ready to jot down as true the slander that every fool or villain may please to hold forth against a Christian man. Search for yourselves, and if you are obliged to believe it, yet say little about it. Carry it before God, as though it were your own sin, and sorrow over it. Talk to your Brother, if it is your lot to know him well, and get him to leave the evil into which he has fallen, and lead him back again. But do not forsake him. Or if he is the victim of slander and scandal, be you among the first to defend him. I do hope that there will always be among us a spirit of true Christian brotherhood so that those who love Christ and have thrown in their lot with us may find that we really desire to do them good. I have thus spoken more particularly because I know that the number of Christians among us who are not making a profession is unusually large just now. I had far rather it should be so than that it should be the reverse--than that many should be making a profession without knowing or feeling the private virtue and public faith it demands. Better that you were outside the visible Church all your lives, and be in Christ, than make a profession and yet have no part nor lot with Him. All these outward things are nothing compared with the inward. "You must be born again." There must be a living faith in Christ, a real change of heart--an indwelling of the Spirit of God to attest the verity of your godliness. Where these are, the rest ought not to be neglected. These things ought you to have done, and not to have left the other undone, but still, even if they are left undone, it shall not amount to a total shipwreck. But if there is no faith, you may build the vessel as you will, and you may think that you have loaded her with precious treasures--but sink she must--because that alone which would have kept her afloat has been neglected. God grant us to be one with Christ, and to be one with His people in time and in eternity. There now--there now-- there is Christ's Church. And if I saw that she were in the stocks, and all were hooting her--if she stood in the pillory, and all were pelting her--yet it would be my desire to throw in my lot with her! Whatever she endured I would endure, because the day comes when those who were not on the side of Christ and His Church would give their eyes if they had been! Yes, would wish themselves that they had never been born to think that they did not take up with the reproached people, and did not side with the reproached Savior. O be with Christ in His sorrows, that you may be with Him in His joy! Be with Him in His reproach, that you may be with Him in His glory! Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Precious, Honorable, Beloved (No. 917) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 20, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON AT THE METROTROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Since you were precious in My sight you have been honorable, and I have loved you." Isaiah 43:4. THE first reference of this text is evidently to Israel. That nation was precious in God's sight. He had been pleased sovereignly to make an election of the seed of Abraham, that they should be His portion, and He should be their portion evermore. They were precious in His sight because of the Covenant which He had made with their great forefather, saying, "In blessing I will bless you, and in multiplying I will multiply your seed, and in your seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed." This word of promise elevated them to an eminent position before the Lord. They were precious in the Lord's sight because His honor was concerned in their history. If the Covenant promise could be broken, there would be an impeachment of the fidelity of the Most High--if by any means the chosen people could be crushed by their enemies, then the Omnipotence of their Patron and Defender would also be in question. It was an important point that they should be preserved, because in the fulfillment of His Covenant with them the name of God would be glorified, as the God of faithfulness and Truth. They were therefore precious in His sight. Many of the vast purposes of the Divine Being were intertwisted with the being and well-being of the chosen people. To them He had committed the sacred oracles--among them lived His holy Prophets, to them He revealed the Law--of them as concerning the flesh, Christ came, and out of them the first preachers of the Gospel were chosen. Scarcely any great event that glorifies the Grace of God can be dissociated from the Jewish people. Let me even remind you that the calling of the Gentiles is the consequence of the putting away of Israel for awhile because of unbelief, and that the future glory, whenever it shall come, will certainly be intimately connected with the restoration of the chosen people. Very precious is Israel, because like a silver thread we see her story running through the whole line of God's Grace as manifested to the sons of men. The Israelites of old were precious to God because He had done so much for them. He had brought them out of Egypt "with a high hand and an outstretched arm." He had cast out the tribes of Canaan before them. He had oftentimes rebuked kings for their sakes, yes, and slain mighty kings that they might be delivered. The results of all this the Lord would not lose, and they, therefore for this cause also were precious in His sight. Doubtless, one main reason of Israel's preciousness lay in the fact that out of Judah should arise the Royal Man, the Son of God, in Whom the Father is well-pleased. For the sake of that Divine Seed, which I may call the vital kernel of Israel's race, the Lord took pleasure in the descendants of Abraham, and they were precious in His sight. Many other reasons might be given why God, having once elected the little nation of Israel by an act of distinguishing Grace, should look upon the people as peculiarly precious. But we pass on to observe that He next declares them to be honorable--honorable because, or from the time when they had been precious in His sight. Whoever God may elect for Himself, he is by that very fact rendered honorable, and the Jewish people in being set apart as the Lord's own people, were by that very separation honored above all other nations on the face of the earth. They, moreover, received the Light while the whole world was in darkness. Although some stray gleams fell here and there among the nations, yet the brightest illumination which enlightened the early ages from the Throne of God came to the Israelite people. While others worshipped gods that were not gods, Israel adored Him whose Throne is in the heavens and whose kingdom rules over all. Theirs were the commands written with the Divine finger--theirs a sacredly instructive ritual--theirs a line of priests ordained to stand between man and God. All this made them honorable. Conjointly with this special privilege they were honored by being chosen to special service. They were to conserve the knowledge of the true God amid surrounding idolatry, and they were to maintain a testimony for holiness in the center of abounding wickedness. They were ordained to be a holy nation, a peculiar people, sanctified unto the Lord to show forth the praise of Jehovah. They were honored by His constant Presence with them. No other nation saw God go before them in pillars of cloud and fire--nowhere else did the Shekinah blaze forth except between the wings of the cherubim overshadowing the Mercy Seat. He had not so dealt with any other nation--only to His chosen people had He been pleased to reveal Himself. They were favored with special protections in Providence, with special guidance in all their difficulties, special supplies in time of famine. And if they sometimes had special chastisements, yet even these were but tokens of His peculiar regard. Israel was precious in the sight of God, and therefore, though small and inconsiderable, it was honorable among the nations, so that David could truthfully say, "What one nation in the earth is like Your people, even like Israel, whom God went to redeem for a people to Himself?" I need not dwell upon God's special love to Israel. We believe it continues to this hour, and though the scattered nation is despised, and the precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, are esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter--yet the day shall come when "There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob." Then Judea's mountains, (Your land, O Immanuel), shall drop down with new wine, and the hills shall flow with milk. Then the glorious diadem of her former glory shall return to Zion's brow, and God, even her own God, shall bless her. The Covenant of salt shall be remembered, and it shall be soon that the Lord has not cast away His people whom He did foreknow. We must not leave this point without noticing how true it was that because the Israelite people were so favored of God, He gave men for them, and people for their life. Egypt had to see the death of all its first-born for Israel's sake. The Canaanites were utterly exterminated to make room for the tribes. And when mighty kings came against the chosen people, they, too, were smitten with terrible destructions. Sennacherib's host withered like autumn leaves when "the angel of death spread his wings on the blast," for Israel must be saved. If the people were carried captive for their sins, yet in captivity they became like the firebrand amidst the dry stubble, for Babylon was destroyed for their sakes--the hammer of the nations was broken in pieces that the exiles might be set free to worship the Lord at Jerusalem. Egypt, Ethiopia, and Seba were all thrown into the scale together, and made nothing of in comparison with the elect nation. He gave men for them, or as the Hebrew reads it, he gave man for them, as though the whole race of man, with all its interests, were made to yield to the interests of the one chosen people. Thus dear was the seed of faithful Abraham to Jehovah's heart. I dare not take such a text as this is without first of all giving you its original and natural signification, and I doubt not that it is as I have now declared it. This passage may, however, without the slightest wrenching of it from its connection, as I believe, and certainly without any distortion of its meaning, be applied to the spiritual Israel, namely, to Christ's chosen Church, which He has redeemed with His blood. Now this Church of God is, and always has been, precious in God's sight. Not that there was anything of natural excellency in His elect why they should be chosen. Not that in the whole of them put together there was any value above the rest of the sons of men. But because the Lord, having been pleased to choose them, put by that very act a preciousness upon them which otherwise had not been there. They are now precious to God, because, having loved them from of old, that ancient love sets a stamp of preciousness upon them in the dear memories of the past eternity. His goings forth in love to His people were of old--yes, He has loved them with an everlasting love, and therefore they are dear to Him. The Church is precious because His purposes of Grace mainly relate to it, and His other purposes are made subservient to the glory of His Grace in them. The bounds of the nations has He set according to the number of His chosen. The arrangements of Providence have all been disposed with an eye to them. All things work together for their good, and for the achievement of their ultimate perfection. God is pleased to reckon them as His crown jewels--His peculiar treasure--because He sees in them the purchase of His Son's agonies. They have been bought with a price far above gold and silver. And by the memories of Gethsemane and Calvary, they are made most precious in the esteem of the Most High. They are precious, because in them, above all others, His Glory is to be revealed. He has displayed it in Nature. He manifests it in Providence. But peculiarly He intends to illustrate all His attributes in His Church, when she shall be conformed to the image of Christ Jesus her Lord. Exceedingly precious is the Church to God, and for this cause she is in the highest sense honorable. Even in her lowest estate, when despised and persecuted, the Church has still been honorable. In dark days and times of deep depression, when her candle was ready to go out, still was she honorable in the sight of the Most High. She was honorable because of her character, for she is holiness unto the Lord. Honorable because of her nearness to His Son, for is she not the "bride, the Lamb's wife"? Honorable because of the service entrusted to her to bear witness for the Truth of the one God and the glory of the one Mediator. She is honorable because of the destiny which awaits her, when she shall be taken up to dwell with her Lord forever, and reign with Him world without end. Brethren, the men of this world do not see as yet the excellency of the Church, but then they saw not the glory of Christ. They thought Him a "root out of a dry ground," and therefore it is not al all remarkable if they defame the Church as a despicable nest of fanaticism. But as He shall appear, and in the latter days His Glory shall strike all eyes, so shall His true Church be revealed also, and the nations that once despised her shall be glad to bow down and lick the dust of her feet. Let us hold in high esteem the Church of God, the secret and mystical Church first, and the outward and visible Church next, as her representative. I grieve when I hear some speaking as though the organized Church of God were a thing to be ignored or snuffed at. There have been many efforts made extra in the Church of God, and I would not for a moment have prevented one of them. But I have observed, and I think all must have done so, that the results of work disconnected with the Church of Christ have been but meager. God will bless the world, after all, through His Church. And your irregular efforts, though He shall own them, and they may be ordained by Him for a purpose, yet can never supersede the regular action of His people associated together in Church fellowship. Neither do I believe that operations which ignore a true and visible Church of Christ ever will be permanent, at least never so permanent as that work which springs out of a Church ordered according to the Apostolic rule, working under the Divine sanction, prayerfully sowing in the name of Christ, and carefully ingathering to the name of Jesus the fruits of its labors. Honor the Church, for God has honored it. Unite yourself with it if up to now you have stood aloof, that you may participate in the favor which Christ accords to His people as a body. "Since you were precious in My sight, you have been honorable, and I have loved you." This last word means, "I have taken a complacency in you." The Lord takes a delight in His Church. When God made the world he said it was good, but I do not find that He ever broke forth into any song of congratulation over His work. But when He views His Church, the new creation, we hear by the mouth of the Prophet, "He shall rest in His love, He shall rejoice over you with singing." There is that in the Church of God which makes even the august silence of God to be broken for awhile--the Triune Deity lifts up the voice of song over His chosen. Jesus loves His Church, His delights are with the sons of men. Of all that He has ever made or done, there is nothing in which God takes such satisfaction as in the "Church of the First-Born whose names are written in Heaven." Now rest assured, Brethren--that as for the Jewish Church, God gave up nations, threw them away as though they were but the common pebble stones, and His Israel the only diamond among them--so will it be and so has it been in reference to His own Church bought with the blood of Christ. It was remarked by the Reformers that at the time when the Catholic kings agreed to persecute them, they might have been crushed, but jealousy sprung up among the various monarchs. They were so engaged with wars among themselves that the Reformers were able to escape. As though the blood of thousands upon thousands might be shed that God would take care that His Gospel in the world should not be harmed. And now today what are empires and kingdoms but so many potters' vessels that shall be dashed to shivers sooner than the kingdom of Christ shall be moved? What are you, you kings, and you great ones of the earth, though you think yourselves to be the rulers of the times and the masters of events--yet of yourselves what are you? You are crushed before the moth if you oppose the advance of the Master's empire and the spread of His Truth. Do not gloomily foretell that missionary operations will be all in vain--it is not so, it cannot be so! Our prospects are bright, bright as the promises of God. Has He not said, "I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth"? God would sooner make the whole earth to quiver with earthquakes, like the leaf of the aspen in the gale, than allow one idol temple to stand fast forever. He would sooner unbind all the civil compacts of mankind until the human race became disintegrated into separate atoms, than suffer thrones and dominions to prevent the triumph of His Church, and the victory of her Lord. This line of remark seemed so naturally to spring out of the text that I could not but dwell upon it. I now beg to conduct you to the consideration which most forcibly strikes my own mind, namely, the application of this verse to each individual Believer in Christ. To every Christian I think the Master speaks, "Since you were precious in My sight, you have been honorable and I have loved you." Three things are in this text, "precious," "honorable," "Beloved." O Believer, if you have Grace to suck the honey out of these, it shall be a happy day for you! I. Believer, the first wonderful adjective of the text is applicable to you--you are "PRECIOUS." Notice how that preciousness is enhanced beyond the superlative degree by the next words, "precious in My sight." There are mock jewels now made which are so exactly like rubies, emeralds, and diamonds that even those who are connoisseurs of precious stones are deceived--and yet these imitations are not precious. They are not precious in the sight of the lapidary, who is able to put them to severer tests--with him these mimicries are soon proved to be of little value. The degree of preciousness depends much upon the person who forms the judgment. And what estimate can be so accurate as that of God the Infallible? What judgment can be so severely exacting as that of God the infinitely Holy? How precious must a Believer be if he is precious in God's sight? For the things that are precious in man's sight, what are they to Him? What cares the Most High for all the diamonds of Golconda, or all the gold and silver that could be heaped together, though they should compose ranges of mountains like the Himalayas, all of precious ore? The golden mass would be nothing more than sordid dust in the sight of the Most High. He esteems not these things, but His poor and afflicted people are precious in His sight. It sometimes appears to unbelief as if it would be a comfortable thing to escape from-- God's sight--so that our unworthiness might be hidden. "Blessed is the man whose transgression is forgiven, and whose sin is covered." We imagine in dark moments that it would be a great mercy to be ourselves covered and kindly forgotten by the Most High. But, Brethren, instead of that we are always in God's sight--placed as fully there as we shall be in the Day of Judgment. And, though His thoughts are not mistaken about us, and His judgment is not premature, for He knows precisely what we are, have been, shall be--yet He calls us precious! Ah, you humble Believers who are far from being precious in your own sight, and perhaps esteemed as worthless in the sight of those that know not the Grace of God--sit down and contentedly roll this under your tongue as a sweet morsel--you are precious in the sight of the Lord! If you are, indeed, the Lord's by faith in Christ Jesus, worked in you by the Holy Spirit, you are precious in the Father's sight. This preciousness, my Brothers and Sisters, cannot arise from anything essentially and intrinsically precious in us by nature, for we confess freely that we are even as others in our natural estate. The quarry out of which we were hewn was no quarry of precious things, and the pit out of which we have been dug was no pit in which rare stones were glittering. We were taken from common clay and out of the ordinary ruin of mankind. Yet God says we are precious, and the fact of our former degradation and fallen estate cannot dispute the Divine declaration. Fallen, depraved, and ruined, as we once were--yet for all that--we are precious in God's sight! How is this? Why, methinks it springs out of four considerations. We are precious in the sight of God because of the memories which cluster round each one of us. Jacob said of a certain portion that he would give it to Joseph--"I have given to you one portion above your Brethren, which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with my bow." Evidently the Patriarch set great store by that portion because it bad been won amid the hazards of actual warfare. It might not have been so valuable in itself as others of his possessions, but he thought much of it because he remembered the risks he ran in winning it to himself. And you, Child of God, you are the portion which Jesus took out of the hand of the Amorite with His sword and with His bow. For you He undertook the strife of battle and trod the winepress alone, that He might redeem you from the tyrant who held you in bondage and make you to be His peculiar heritage forever. You have at home today some trifle which, notwithstanding its little value, you would not sell for a thousand times its weight in gold because it belonged to a son or to a daughter since departed this life. That little memento is connected with some deed of daring, or act of generous self-denial on the part of your beloved child--and though in itself it is nothing--you count it very precious. Now, to the Father, you, Beloved Brothers and Sisters, are memorials of the Savior's condescension in taking upon Himself the form of a servant, and being made in the likeness of human flesh. You are a memorial of His being found in fashion as a Man, and becoming subject to death, even the death of the Cross. As God looks at each of you He sees what His Son has done, beholds in you the griefs of Calvary, bears anew the sighs of Olivet and the groans of Golgotha. You are to God, therefore, most precious, as the token and memorial of the death of Jesus Christ. Things become precious, sometimes, on account of the workmanship exercised upon them. Many an article has been in itself intrinsically of small account, but so much art has been exercised upon it, so much real work thrown into it, that the value has been increased indefinitely. I think I have heard of the raw material being worth scarcely a single penny, and yet so much skill has been used that occasionally even a thousand pounds in value has been attained. Now, the Christian is precious to God on account of the workmanship that has been spent upon him. Taken as we were from among the utterly destroyed, the Holy Spirit worked in us life from the dead, subdued our stubborn wills, and enlightened our darkened understandings. He has up till this day continued to exercise upon us all His exquisite and heavenly art by which we have been molded and fashioned, and made vessels fit for the Master's use. Look back, my dear Friends, you who are precious in God's sight, to what the Holy Spirit has already done for you. Remember the lines of the engraver's tool which He has made upon you in days of joy when he prompted you to thankfulness, to consecration, to communion? You are more likely, however, to remember those deeper strokes of the engraver's hand, made in the days of your pain and affliction. I do remember well when the Holy Spirit brought me to humiliation, to repentance, to self-purgation, to a holy vengeance against my sins and a sweet ardor for my Lord. In many ways the Great Worker has worked mightily in us and continued perseveringly to pursue His purpose. You never took such pains with a child as the Holy Spirit has taken with you. None of you ever took so much pains to instruct your little one as He has in teaching you. Your child has never grieved you, nor vexed you to the extent that you have grieved the Holy Spirit and provoked Him. Yet still He has not ceased His work, and seeing, as He does, so much already worked in you, you are precious in His sight--for He will not cast away what He has already expended. The Holy Spirit sees in you His own work as it will be, for being resolved to accomplish it, He beholds you not as you are just now, but as you shall be by-and-by, when "without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing," you shall be presented before the Eternal Throne--every tendency to iniquity being eradicated, and every desire that is good and holy, and commendable, being accomplished! Therefore, for the sake of what He will make you, the Holy Spirit counts you precious. Certain articles are precious because of their peculiar fashion. This was the case with the Portland vase, which to any common observer seemed to be of very small value, but because of the extreme beauty of the design, the greatest potter of the age was ready to pay his thousands to possess it. We are precious in God's sight, too, because of our fashion and form. For what, my Brethren, is to be the form of every Believer? We are to be made like unto Christ! There is no beauty like the form of Christ--nothing in Heaven or in earth can match the perfection of Jesus' Character. We are to be made like He, and God, therefore, counts us very precious because He sees His Son's image in every one of us. I know you prize and hang about your neck that dear memorial of a Beloved one now in Heaven. The likeness so accurately photographed recalls to your mind the very image of the departed one. And God views every one of His people as especially precious because they are, and are to be yet more perfectly, in the likenesses of Jesus Christ. Once more. Things are precious often because of their relationship. The most precious thing a mother has is her dear babe. We all love those who are near to us by the ties of nature. Precious, therefore, in the sight of the Lord are His saints because they are born in His household. By regeneration they are made to be His sons and daughters. Think not that God our Father has a less affection towards His sons than we have towards ours. Ah, no! No mother's heart ever yearned over her child, and no father's bosom ever rejoiced over his offspring as the heart of God yearns over His erring children-- and as His soul rejoices when they come back to Him. Do you call your child precious, and would you give your very life that you might preserve it? Even thus precious, O Believer, are you to your heavenly Father at this hour. I cannot preach on such a word as this--the theme is too sweet for language. But I wish that in your quietude you would silently sit down and turn this over--"I, poor, feeble, sinful worm as I am, yet, since I am chosen by distinguishing Grace and made to lay hold on eternal life in Christ Jesus, I am precious to God! My precious things I put under lock and key to preserve them. I view them with satisfaction and set great store by them. Even so will the great God hide me in His secret places. He delights to commune with me, and rejoices in me as He views me in Christ Jesus. I am more precious to Him than my own child is to my heart." Why, here is comfort for you, even if you are very poor, or bitterly persecuted. Perhaps you have, like Hannah, to suffer day by day sneering and bitter words from your adversary, who vexes you sorely to make you fret. Why, then, let this Truth of God console you--you are precious in the sight of the Lord, and therefore you may sing, "My soul does magnify the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior, for He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden." How it should make your spirit exult! How precious ought your thoughts of God to be to yourself, since you are precious in the sight of the Most High! II. But we must pass on briefly to the second choice word. Every child of God is, in the second place, "HONORABLE." If things go on as they do now, I do not know whether this word "honorable" will not be so degraded that a man will be ashamed to wear it. We who see lords dishonoring themselves will have to thank God that we are not lords, but men. Speak of the scum of society, it seems pretty clear that as the scum of every pot is on the top, so is it with the nation. We are reaching a pretty state of things, certainly, when the highest sin is to be found in the highest places. God grant that our great ones may mend their manners, for it is a crying shame and a detestable scandal when those who are accounted honorable and noble by birth cannot be even decently moral. God grant our nation better lights and ornaments than these. But, my Friends, this grand old word was written when it was untarnished, and in its virgin purity. If it has now come to be ordinarily meaningless or a mockery, let us now restore it to its pristine luster and see it glow on the page of Scripture as gold seven times purified with fire. Every Christian is in God's sight right honorable and excel-lent--because the Lord in His discriminating Grace has made him precious. First, every Christian is honorably born. Never mind how lowly your earthly parentage--you have been born unto God by the Holy Spirit--and therefore descended from the King of kings. It matters not though no blue blood may run in your veins, and you cannot trace your pedigree to any of the Norman invaders. If you can trace your pedigree up to the Lord of hosts, Himself, through being "begotten again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead," you belong to the blood imperial, and to the seed royal--and you may therein rejoice! God has made you honorable, no matter who despises you. The Christian is moreover honorable in rank. God has been pleased to take us from the dunghill to set us among princes. Rank in the order of Providence exists in all societies. Not only among men, but among pure spirits we have reason to believe there are various degrees and orders. But the nobility of holy men is everywhere paramount in God's sight. Man, redeemed by the blood of Christ, stands second to none in the whole range of created intelligences. Nearest to God stands a Man. "You have put all things in subjection under His feet, You have set Him over all the works of Your hands." In the Person of Jesus Christ man stands next to Deity, I mean man twice born--man renewed by the Holy Spirit. What lofty dignity is this, that even angels should be only "ministering spirits sent forth to minister" to us, our commissioned bodyguards commanded to pitch their tents around us! They are our servitors to bear us up in their hands lest at any time we dash our feet against a stone! Speak of lords spiritual--these are they--the spiritual seed of Abraham! Speak of kings and princes and peers of the blood royal--these are they--in whom Jesus Christ's Spirit dwells--who are Brethren to the august First-Born. Honorable, then, in birth, and honorable in rank, and right honorable in their service, are Believers. For what blessed employment is that which God has sent us on? He has sent us into the world to bear witness of the Truth. He has bid us proclaim the name of Jesus to the utmost bounds of the earth. He has sent us to seek after the lost sheep of the house of Israel. I know of no service that can be more distinguished than the doing of good, the scattering of blessings among the sons of men. Methinks the very angels before the Throne might envy us poor men who are permitted to talk of Christ even though it is but to little children. I reckon the most humble Ragged school teacher to be more honored than even Gabriel himself, in being commissioned to tell out the story of the Cross, and to win youthful hearts to the Savior's service! You are not employed as scullions in your Master's kitchen, though you might be content with such a service. You are not made as His hired servants, to toil in meanest drudgery. You are not sent to be hewers of wood and drawers of water, but you are His friends, the friends of Jesus, to do such work as He did. And even greater works than He did are you enabled to do, because He has gone to His Father. "This honor have all the saints," the honor of being gentlemen-at-arms under Jesus, the Captain of their salvation. Christians are honorable also in privilege. It was accounted an eminent honor when a nobleman had the right to go in to his king whenever he willed to proffer a request. Approach to the royal throne was always, among Orientals, considered to be the highest token of regard. O child of God! You have access into this Grace in which we stand--you are permitted to come boldly to the Throne of the heavenly Grace to obtain Grace in your time of need! You are especially honored, O you saints, for we are "a people near unto Him." Every middle wall of partition is broken down, and you are brought near by the blood of Christ. Oh, what privileges are these! You are this day priests to offer acceptable sacrifices, kings to rule over your corruptions. Never were men so privileged as you upon whom the Lord's love has descended to make you precious in His sight! And every child of God who is what he should be, becomes, through Grace, honorable by his achievements--and this is, in some respects, the highest form of honor--to be honored for what you have been enabled to do. To wear a coat of arms which you have fairly won in battle, and honors that are not merely attributed to you by the heraldic pencil, but which are due to you because of your victorious feats of arms! Every child of God shall have this honor if he is led earnestly to strive after it. To conquer sin is no small achievement. To keep down through a long life the corruptions of the flesh, to contend against the world and the devil--these are no deeds of carpet knights. And what an achievement it will be when Satan shall be bruised beneath our feet, as he shall be shortly, when the hosts of Hell, with all their craft and malice, shall find themselves utterly overthrown by the men and women whom they despised--those in whom God's Grace so dwelt that they were victorious and carried the banner of Truth and goodness onward to complete victory! God grant you, Brethren, as you have already the honor of birth and rank this day, and as you have proffered to you the honor of service, that you may be honorable through your achievements, being precious in God's sight. III. We come now to the last of these notable words, which is "BELOVED"--"I have loved you." I must decline to preach on this word. It is not a word for talk, but thought. I always feel that the love of God to His people is more fit for contemplation than public discourse. "I have loved you." Come, heir of Heaven, listen a moment. God has loved you eternally. Before the stars began to shine and before the sun knew his place and poured forth his oceans of light, God loved you in particular. He has loved you actively and effectually, given His Only-Begotten for you--an unspeakable gift--giving you everything in Him--a boundless dowry of love. He has loved you pre-eminently, better than the angels, for unto which of them has He ever said, "You were honorable, and I have loved you"? He has loved you unchangeably, never less, and never more. In all your sin the same. In all your sorrow, still the same. He has loved you immeasurably. You can never know the heights and depths of your God's love to you. O Man, plunge yourself into this river! If you have up to now gone wading into it up to the ankles, now get breast high and heart high into it--yes, commit yourself to the fathomless stream, and swim in it as in a sea of bliss. "I have loved you." Let that dwell richly in your heart, and ring out celestial music for your comfort and delight! These three things being put together, I want you, practically, this morning, as they are your own by faith, to make use of them in other senses. "Since you were precious in My sight, you have been honorable, and I have loved you." My Savior, do You say that? Why, those words You put into my mouth to give back to You! You also are precious in my sight. Is He not so--precious beyond comparison? Therefore is He honorable in our esteem. Will you not honor Him? Shall it not be the continual strife of your soul to get Him renown? Will you not talk of His fame to others? Will you not spread abroad the glory of His mighty acts? My Savior, once I knew You not, but now I prize You, and by Your Divine Grace my heart sees how precious You are. Now, therefore, You are honorable in my soul. Reign, reign over every heart, as well as over mine. Gladly would I seat You on a glorious high throne, and be content to be trampled in the mire, if I could lift You but one inch higher, or get to Your name but one grain more of love among the sons of men. "You have been honorable, and I have loved You." I am afraid, if you make this confession you will have to blush as you make it. You have loved Him, but, oh, how little have you loved Him! Look not back, then, except with penitence, but from now on say, "Lord, You have been honorable, I will love You. Forgive the past, kindle in my soul a fresh flame of Grace, help me to say-- 'Yes, I love You and adore, O for Grace to love You more!'" When you have so used those words, turn them in another direction. Apply them next to every child of God. Since you, my Brother, since you, my Sister, were precious in my sight, and you have been so ever since I knew how precious a child of God was, you have been honorable, and I have loved you. Let us never think of the children of God in any other way than as honoring them. Some of them are very poor. Many of them illiterate. Some of them not altogether in temper, action, or creed what we might desire them to be. But if they are bought with the blood of Christ, they are honorable. The Lord declares them so, and let us not treat them dishonorably. It is a very sad thing when poor saints are despised by those who happen to be better off. If some great noble were to come into this House of Prayer, how many of you would be glad to give him the best seat, and yet he might be one of the worst of men? But if a child of God should happen to be so poor that he must wear garments that are all but rags, and must live in a miserable cottage, there are many who will scarcely own him as a Brother. We who understand what spiritual worth is should never fall into this error. We should say, "You, poor as you are, have become precious in our sight for Jesus' sake. We see you are an heir of Heaven, and therefore we prize you above all kings and princes, and we love you for the Master's sake. Can we help your poverty? Can we cheer your sickness? Can we bear a part of your burden? We love you and count you honorable for the sake of Jesus, our Lord and yours." Once again. You might use these words in reference to unconverted men and women. There is a certain sense in which they are applicable to all born of woman, for they possess immortal souls. Years ago you and I knew nothing of the value of our own souls, and were not likely to care for those of others. But now the souls of men are precious in our sight. We believe them to be immortal. We know that they are to live forever in misery or forever in bliss. And therefore, let others say what they will, we can never think of the human soul but as a very precious and priceless thing. And now, if that is the case, how honorable all men become as objects of our zeal! "Honor all men," says the Apostle--a text I do not hear quoted half so often as that other, "Honor the king." Do not forget the last, but take equal care of the first. There is, because of its spiritual and immortal nature, a dignity about the soul of the meanest man--which no degree of poverty or degradation can altogether take away. The harlot in the streets--how few will care for her! But, O you tender hearts, as you look on the poor fallen one, say, "Since your soul was precious in my sight as an immortal spirit, you have been no longer despised and trampled on, but I have loved you as my Savior loved you, and for His sake I esteem your soul as an honorable, priceless thing." Do not think of the thousands in prison today as though they were just so much filth to be gotten rid of. Do not think, above all, of the great mass of the needy and destitute classes of society as though they were a mere encumbrance of the common man, the mere rubbish to be swept away and laid in heaps in the workhouse or on foreign shores. No, they are precious. As precious is their soul as yours. Think of them in that respect--and honor the immortal spark that is in them--the manhood that God has been pleased to create. Honor that, and as you honor it, love it--and prove your love by praying that God will save it, by using every instrument within your power to recover it from its ruin--and to bring it back to the great God to whom it belongs. If the woman in the Gospels who lost her piece of money had said, "It is only a penny, I have more, I shall not trouble about it," she had never lighted the candle and swept the floor, and searched diligently until she found it. And if the shepherd with his ninety-and-nine sheep had said of the hundredth which went astray, "That sheep was always scabbed and worthless. Its loss is no great thing, the ninety-nine are far more precious," he would never have left the flock to go after that which was lost. The less value you set upon your fellow men, the less earnest you will be in seeking their good. But if you feel that they are precious to you for Christ's sake, and honorable because they are men--capable, by God's Divine Grace, of Heaven and holiness, you will set to work in God's strength to reclaim them. And God will second and bless your efforts, and you will see them saved. Gladly would I have you give yourselves for them, and the Church give people for their life. May God grant to every one in this House of Prayer, first, to be precious in the sight of God Himself. And next, to seek after others whom God has loved and whom He means to save through them. May God lead you to give all you have--though it were Egypt, and Ethiopia, and Seba--that precious souls may be reclaimed. Send us such zeal, O Holy Spirit, for Jesus' sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ The Two Builders And Their Houses (No. 918) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 27, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Therefore whosoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house. And it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. And everyone that hears these sayings of Mine, and does them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house. And it fell: and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7:24-27. THESE were the closing words of our Savior's most famous sermon upon the mount. Some preachers concentrate all their powers upon an effort to conclude with a fine thing called a peroration, which, being interpreted, means a blaze of rhetorical fireworks in the glory of which the speaker subsides. They certainly have not the example of Christ in this discourse to warrant them in the practice. Here is the Savior's peroration, and yet it is as simple as any other part of the address. Here is an evident absence of all artificial oratory. The whole of His hill sermon was intensely earnest, and that earnestness was sustained to the end so that the closing words are as glowing coals, or as sharp arrows of the bow. Our Lord closes not by displaying His own powers of elocution, but by simply and affectionately addressing a warning to those, who, having heard His Words, should remain satisfied with hearing, and should not go forth and put them into practice. As according to usual experience, a preacher warms to his subject as he advances and becomes more intense as he nears his final sentences--so we are bound to give the more earnest heed to the words which are now before us--words with which the Lord of all preachers concluded His memorable discourse. Jesus had been saying many things, but these are two words to which I think He especially alluded when He said, "Whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him unto a wise man." The first of these words was, "Enter you in" (Matt. 7:13). And the second was, "Beware" (Matt. 7:15). Our Lord had spoken of the "strait gate" of the "narrow way," and of the few who travel it, and His urgent admonition was, "Enter you in." not, "Learn you all concerning it, and then be satisfied." Not, "Find fault with the travelers and the road." Not, "Seek to enlarge the gate and widen the way," but, "Enter You in." Be obedient to the Gospel--believe its testimony concerning Jesus--enter into fellowship with its mysteries, receive its blessings. Be travelers along its roads. "Enter you in." He who hears of the way to Heaven, but enters not into it is a foolish man. He, who hearing of the strait gate, presses to enter in, is a wise man. Afterwards our Lord added the other admonition, "Beware." "Beware," says He, "of false Prophets." And after having dwelt for awhile on that, He added in other words, "Beware of false professions." Of false Prophets beware, for they may delude you. They may bring before you a salvation which will not save, a mere mirage that looks like the pure, cooling, refreshing stream--but which only mocks your thirst. Beware of all teaching which would lead you away from the one Savior of the souls of men. And then He adds, "Beware of false professions," however loudly they make you cry, "Lord, Lord." You may have in company with these professions the loftiest gifts, Such as casting out devils, and the greatest abilities, such as only Prophets possess. But they shall not avail you anything. In that day when the Master shall only accept into His marriage feast the companions of His warfare on earth, He will say to those who have not done the Father's will, "I never knew you. Depart from Me, you workers of iniquity." These are two of the sayings of Christ, and they are comprehensive of almost all He ever said--"Enter you in," and, "Beware." Take heed that you do them as well as hear them. I. We shall now proceed to the Master's parable, and will you please notice, first of all, THE TWO BUILDERS. The wise and the foolish man were both engaged in precisely the same avocations, and to a considerable extent achieved the same design. Both of them undertook to build houses. Both of them persevered in building. Both of them finished their houses. The likeness between them is very considerable. They were equally impressed with the need of building a house. They perceived the necessity of shelter from the heavy rains. They were alike desirous of being shielded from the floods and screened from the wind. The advantage of a house to dwell in was evident to both. Even thus, at this period, we have a large number in the congregation who are impressed with the conviction that they need a Savior. I am delighted to find that there is a stir among my hearers, and I trust it is a movement of God's Holy Spirit. And as a result very many of you feel deeply that you need a refuge from the wrath to come. You now admit that you must be forgiven, justified, regenerated and sanctified, and your desires are fervent--for all which I am deeply grateful, but also deeply anxious. You are in crowds desirous of becoming builders, and although some are wise and some foolish, up to this present we can see no difference in you. For you seem to be equally convinced that you need eternal life and a good hope for the world to come. Nor does the likeness end here--for the two builders were both alike resolved to obtain what they needed--a house. And their determination was not in words only, but in deeds--for they both resolutely set to work to build. In the same way there are among us at this hour many who are resolved that if Christ is to be had, they will have Him. And if there is such a thing as salvation, they will find it. They are very earnest, intensely earnest, and though some of them will fail, and some of them succeed, yet up to this point they are all alike, and none but He who searches all hearts can discern the slightest difference. I look with sadness upon the two pilgrims, with their faces zealously turned toward Zion, and I am sad as I wonder which one will find the Celestial City, and which will join with Formalist and Hypocrisy, and perish on the Dark Mountains. We are glad to hear of yearning hearts and resolute determinations, but, alas, all is not wheat that grows in wheat fields, all is not gold that glitters. Appearances are very, very hopeful, but appearances are often deceptive. There may be a deep sense of need, and there may be a determined resolution to get that need supplied. And yet out of two seekers, one may find and the other may miss--one may be foolish and the other may be wise. These two builders seem to have been equally well skilled in architecture. The one could build a house without receiving any more instruction than the other. I do not find that there was halt or pause on the part of either because he could not turn an arch, or fix a truss. Evidently they were both skilled workmen, well acquainted with their art. So is it with many here. They know as far as the theory goes, what the plan of salvation is as well as I do. Yet, where the knowledge is the same, the ultimate result may vary. Two men may be equally well instructed in the Scriptures, yet one of them may be wise and the other foolish. To know what faith is, what repentance is, what a good hope in Christ is may all be yours--and yet it may but increase your misery forever. If you know these things, happy are you if you do them. It is not the hearer, but the doer of the Word, that is blessed. Knowledge puffs up--love alone builds up. My dear Friends, I am most earnest that those of you who are desiring to find everlasting life in Christ Jesus may not be content with anything short of a true, deep, and real work of Divine Grace in your hearts. For no clearness of head knowledge, no natural earnestness of purpose or eagerness of desire can save you. Without an interest in Christ Jesus you are lost to all eternity. "You must be born again." You must be brought into vital union with the living Savior or your hopefulness will end in overwhelming destruction. Once more, these two builders both persevered and finished their structure. The foolish man did not begin to build and then cease his work because he was not able to finish, but, as far as I know, his house was finished with as much completeness as the other. And, perhaps furnished quite as well. If you had looked at the two structures, they would have seemed equally complete from basement to roof, and yet there was a great difference between them in a most essential point. Even thus, alas, many persevere in seeking salvation until they imagine that they have found it! They abide for years in the full belief that they are saved. They cry, "Peace, peace," and write themselves down among the blessed--and yet a fatal error lies at the base of all their religion. All their hopes are vain, and their lifework will prove to be a terrible failure. The builders are much alike up to this point, but yet in reality they are wide as the poles asunder both in work and character. The one builder is wise, the other foolish. The one superficial, the other substantial. The one pretentious, the other sincere. The wise man's work was honest work where men's eyes could not judge of it. The other's work was only well worked above ground--there was nothing of reality in the hidden parts. And therefore in due time the first builder rejoiced as he saw his house outlive the storm. The other, with his house, was swept away to total destruction. II. Thus much upon the two builders, let us now think upon THEIR TWO HOUSES. One chief apparent difference between the two edifices probably was this--that one of them built his house more quickly than the other. The wise man had to spend a deal of time in excavation work. Luke tells us that he dug deep and laid his foundation on a rock. Now that rock-blasting, that carving and cutting of the hard granite, must have consumed days and weeks. The foolish builder had not this delay to encounter. The sand was all smooth and ready for him. He was able to commence at once to lay his courses of brick and raise the walls with all rapidity. But all haste is not good speed, and there are some who travel too fast to hold. Unsound professors are often very rapid in their supposed spiritual growth. They were yesterday unconverted--today they become Believers--tomorrow they begin to teach and the next day they are made perfect. They appear to be born of full stature, and equipped at all points, like Minerva, when, according to the fable, she leaped from the brain of Jupiter. They come up in a night, and alas, too often, like Jonah's gourd, they perish also in a night! Now I raise not a question concerning the genuine character of sudden conversions. I believe that sudden conversions are among the best and truest forms of conversion. Take, for instance, that of the Apostle Paul. But still there are among those who profess to have been suddenly converted a sadly numerous company who answer to the description I have just given. They build very, very quickly--much too quickly for the masonry to be well constructed and lasting. It may be that some mourner is lamenting bitterly that he makes very slow progress in Grace. "I have been seeking God in prayer," says one, "these months. I have been humbled and broken down under a sense of sin for weeks. And I have only as yet had now and then a glimpse of hope when I have been able to turn my eye to the crucified Savior. I have as yet few consolations, and many doubts. I gladly would have the full light of love in my heart, but the dawning is slow in breaking." Well, Friend, you are building slowly, but if it is surely, you shall have no cause to regret that deep digging. Small cause will you have to mourn that it took you longer to arrive at peace than it did your hasty friend, if your peace shall last you to eternity, while his hope shall be a possession in cloudland, driven away by the wind. Of the two houses, one was built, I doubt not, with far less trouble than the other. Digging foundations in hard rocks, as I have said, takes time, and it also involves labor. Oftentimes did that wise builder pause to wipe the sweat from his brow. Oftentimes did he retire to his bed worn out with his day's work, and yet there was not a stone appearing above the soil. His neighbor, opposite, had run up the walls, had reached the gable, was almost about to put on the roof, before there was scarce a foot above the ground of the wise builder's structure. "Ah," said he of the sandy foundation, "your toil is needless, and you have nothing to show for it. See how quickly my walls have risen, and yet I don't slave as you do! I take things easily. I neither bore myself nor the rocks, and yet see how my house springs up, and how neat it looks? Your old-fashioned ways are absurd! You dig and hammer away down below there as if you meant to pierce the center of the earth. Why not use your common sense, and go ahead as I do? Away with your sighing and groaning, do as I do, and rejoice at once. Anxiety will kill you." After this fashion are truly awakened souls like "lamps despised of those who are at ease." One man jumps, as it were, into peace, and boasts himself secure. Whether he is correct or not in his confidence, he does not pause to question--he is too comfortable to have time to enquire into that matter. The estate is fair, why worry about the title deeds? The feast is rich, why tarry for the wedding garments? If a doubt should arise, the carnally secure man ascribes it to Satan, and puts it aside--whereas it is not Satan, but his own conscience and the warning voice of Heaven which bid him take heed and be not deceived. The prayer for the Lord to search and try his heart and his reins, he never sincerely offers. Such a man does not like self-examination, and cannot endure to be told that there must be fruits meet for repentance. He takes things as guesswork, comes to rash conclusions, and shuts his eyes to disagreeable facts. He dreams that he is rich and increased in goods, whereas he is naked, and poor, and miserable. Alas, what a waking will his be! His more serious companion, aroused at the same time is, on the other hand, far more diffident and self-distrustful. When he prays his heart groans before God, yet he fears he does not pray aright, and never rises from his knees content with himself. He is not quite so soon satisfied about the reality of his faith as the other. "Perhaps," he says, "after all, it is not the faith of God's elect." He examines himself whether he is in the faith. He trembles lest he should have the form of godliness without the power. He is afraid of shams and counterfeits, and is for buying gold tried in the fire. "My repentance," he says, "am I sure it is a real loathing of sin as sin, or did I only shed a tear or two under the excitement of a revival service? Am I sure that my nature is renewed by the work of the Holy Spirit, or is it mere reformation?" You see, this second man has much exercise of soul. He labors to enter into rest, lest by any means he should seem to come short of it. He has many strivings, many anxieties, many searching of heart because he is sincere and fears to be deceived. From him the kingdom of Heaven suffers violence--he finds the gate strait and the way narrow--and that the righteous scarcely are saved. Be thankful, dear Hearer, if you are among this second class--for these are the true sons of God and heirs of immortality. Your house costs you more to build, but it will be worth the cost. O beware of wearing the sheep's clothing without the sheep's nature! Beware of saying, "Lord, Lord," while you are the servant of sin! Beware of getting up fictitious religion--borrowing your experience from biographies--picking up godliness secondhand from your parents, friends, and acquaintances! Whatever it may cost you of heartbreak and agony, see to it that the sure foundation is reached, and the house so built that it will endure the trials which will inevitably test it. I would gladly saturate my speech with tears, so weighty and so needful do I feel this caution to be--both to myself and you. I should think that in the course of time, although the foolish builder built with so much less cost, and so much more rapidly, his walls would be liable to very ugly settlements. For walls that have no foundation--that are but piled up on the sand--would every now and then gape wide with hideous cracks. And stones would move here, and timbers would slip there, and cement and stopping would need much repair. What work for daubers and plasterers to make the ruinous fabric look like decent masonry! Very likely when a settlement crack was covered up in one place, another would happen in the next wall. For with such a foundation it would be hard to keep the structure together, and in the long run I should not wonder but what it would cost the foolish builder more pains to keep up his wretched edifice than it did the wise builder who labored so hard with his foundation at the first. Mark you well that mere formal religion and hypocrisy in the end become a very difficult affair to maintain. The man has to struggle hard to patch up his reputation, propping it up with new lies and bolstering it with fresh pretences. At one time an unrenewed will rebels fiercely and he has to feign resignation to affliction. Next an unconquered lust demands indulgence, and he has to conceal the sin with more double-distilled deceit. The form of prayer becomes irksome, and he has to screw himself up to the horrible farce. And meanwhile his outward life is always on the verge of a slip, and he fears detection. One way and another he is continually afraid, like a thief at large who fears that the police will find him. At every puff of wind his habitation threatens to tumble about his ears. He half wishes, after all, that he had taken the trouble of digging a foundation on the rock--but with desperate resolve he puts from him the voice of caution--and will have none of its rebuke. O dear Hearer, rest assured that Truth, after all, is the cheapest and easiest in the long run. Your gilt, your varnish, your paint, your hypocrisy will soon wear off, while the reality is at no expense for beautifying. Even as a matter of consideration for this life it will be more hard in the long run to keep up the pretentious than to maintain the true. And then in the latter case you have God at your back, and He abhors everything unreal. I beseech you see to it that you daub not your walls with untempered mortar lest they not only come down with a crash when most you need to shelter behind them, but even now begin to show alarming signs of decay. The higher the foolish man built, the harder work he had to keep it aright. For, of course, every tier of bricks that he laid made the weight the greater and caused the sand to give way. The nearer Heaven the builder went the sooner his wall bowed to its fall. A man who only makes it his aim to be thought a respectable man by attending a place of worship, may manage pretty well to keep up such a low wall even without a foundation. Another man who joins a worldly Church--a Church that makes no pretense of purity--can also succeed with ease. But if he joins a Church of Jesus Christ which carefully seeks to preserve purity in its membership, he has hard work to live up to the standard required of him. Suppose, yet further, that he should become a deacon or an elder and he is devoid of Grace? His higher aim will cost him more by far--for there are more to look at him, and there is more required of him. Now he prays in public. Now he speaks a word of instruction to enquirers--and what straits and shifts the poor man is driven to--how constantly out of his own mouth is he condemned! "Why," says he in his heart, "I know nothing about these things in my soul, and yet I have to speak and act as if I were taught of God." If he becomes a preacher, he is in a still more pitiful plight. What hard work must it be, then, to keep up the character! When the tower rises tier upon tier upon so frail a base, it leans like the tower of Pisa, and unlike that singular structure it threatens to come down with a crash. By-and-by such a trumpery thing falls in utter ruin, and its elevation helps to hasten the catastrophe. So, dear Hearers, the more spirituality you aim at, and the more usefulness you strive for, the worse for you, unless you have a good foundation to begin with, in true sincerity and real faith. So bad is the course of unsound religion, that the further you go in it the worse it becomes. The main difference, however, between the two houses did not lay in these cracks and settlements, nor in the cheapness or rapidity of the building--it lay out of sight, underground. It was all a matter of the foundation. How many there are who suppose that if a thing is out of sight it may as well be out of mind! Who do you think is likely to dig down and see what the foundations are? "Well," says one, "I see no need for being over precise. I do not believe in being so particular. What nobody sees cannot mean anything." Many subscribe to the graceless song -- "For faith and Grace let foolish zealots fight; He can't be wrong whose life is in the right." "You pay twenty shillings in the pound, attend a place of worship, take the sacrament, are charitable and say your prayers, and never trouble about anything further"--that is the popular notion. "What is the use of fretting about your heart? That is all transcendental nonsense! What can it signify?" That is how the foolish builder comforted himself. And he doubtless sneered at the wise builder as a poor miserable creature who was overmuch righteous and melancholy. Outward appearance is everything with men, but nothing with God. The essential difference between the true child of God and the mere professor is not readily to be discovered, even by spiritual minds. But the Lord sees it. It is a secret mysterious something which the Lord prizes, "for He knows them that are His." He separates between the precious and the vile. He puts away the pretenders as dross, but He suffers no sincere heart to be destroyed. What, then, is this important matter? I answer it is just this--beloved Hearer, if you would be built on a rock, see to it that you have a true sense of sin. I do not say that a sense of sin is a preparation for Christ, and that we ought to pull men back from the Gospel till they feel their sin. But I do believe that wherever there is true faith in Jesus there goes with it a deep abhorrence of sin. Faith without contrition is a dead and worthless faith. When I meet with professors who talk lightly of sin, I am sure that they have built without a foundation. If they had ever felt the Spirit's wounding and killing sword of conviction, they would flee from sin as from a lion or a bear. Truly forgiven sinners dread the appearance of evil as burnt children dread fire. Superficial repentance always leads to careless living. Faith that was never bedewed with repentance never brings forth the flowers of holiness. Pray earnestly for a broken heart. Remember it is the contrite spirit which God is pleased with. Do not believe that you can have ground for rejoicing if you never saw reason for lamenting. The promised comfort is only secured to those who have been mourners (Matt. 5: 4). Next to this seek for real faith. Many things which men call faith are not the precious faith of God's elect. Sincere trust in Jesus Christ is counterfeited in a thousand ways--and often imitated so accurately that only by rigid self-examination can you discover the cheat. You must lie flat upon Christ, the Rock! You must depend entirely upon Him! All your hope and all your trust must be in Him. If you believe with the heart, and not nominally, you are safe, but not otherwise. You must have true repentance and real faith--or you are foolish builders. Furthermore, seek an inwrought experience of Divine Truth. Ask to have it burnt into you. Why is it that people give up the Doctrines of Grace if they fall in with eloquent advocates of free will? Why is it they renounce the orthodox creed if they meet with a smart reasoner who contradicts it? Because they have never received the Word in the power of the Holy Spirit so as to have it sealed in their hearts. I tremble for our Churches, now that false doctrine is rife, because I fear that many are not established in the Truth. I pray the Lord for you, my dear Flock, that you may know the Truth by being taught of the Lord, for then you will not be led aside. The thieves and robbers will come, but as Christ's sheep you will not hear them. It is one thing to have a creed. It is quite another thing to have the Truth engraved upon the tables of the heart. Many fail here because Truth was never experimentally made their own. Pray, moreover, that your faith may produce personal holiness. Do not believe yourself to be saved from sin while you are living in sin. If you can find pleasure in the lusts of the flesh, you are no child of God. If you are given to drunk-enness--and, mark you, many professors are so, only they drink at home and are not seen in the streets--how dwells the Grace of God in you? If you delight in idle songs and frequenting of places of vain amusement, you need not be long in weighing yourself--you are found wanting already. If you were renewed in the spirit of your mind, you would no more love these things than an angel would. There must be a newborn nature implanted, and where there is not this exemplified in holiness of life, you may build ever so high and prate ever so loudly about your building--it is a poor miserable shanty after all--and will fall in the last hurricane. Want of depth, want of sincerity, want of reality in religion--this is the want of our times. Want of an eye to God in religion, lack of sincere dealing with one's own soul. Neglect of using the lancet with our hearts. Neglect of the search warrant which God gives out against sin. Carelessness concerning living upon Christ--much reading about Him, much talking about Him--but too little feeding upon His flesh, and drinking of His blood--these are the causes of tottering professions and baseless hopes. Thus have I tried to open up the parable--and I have not designed to discourage any sincere soul. My aim has been to say to you, "Make your calling and election sure. Build on Christ's love, sincerity, desire, the work of the Holy Spirit--and be not deceived." III. So now I come, in the third place, to notice THE COMMON TRIAL OF THE TWO HOUSES. Whether your religion is true or not, it will be tried. Whether it is chaff or wheat, the fan of the Great Winnower will surely be brought into operation upon all that lies on the threshing floor. If you have dealings with God, you have to do with a "consuming fire." Whether you are really or nominally a Christian, if you come near to Christ, He will try you as silver is tried. Judgment must begin at the House of God, and if you dare to come in to the House of God, judgment will begin with you. By the way, let us note that if there are such trials for those who profess to be Christians, what will become of you who make no profession? If the righteous scarcely are saved, where will the ungodly and the wicked appear? If judgment begin with the House of God, what will the end be of them that believe not? Terrible thought! But to return. Trials will come to profession, whether it is true or false. If I do not mistake the reference in the text to rain, flood, wind--these trials will be of three sorts at least. The rain typifies afflictions from Heaven. God will send you adversities like showers, tribulations as many as the drops of the dew. Between now and Heaven, O Professor, you will feel the pelting storm! Like other men, your body will be sick. Or if not, you shall have trouble in your house--children and friends will die--or riches will take to themselves wings, and fly like an eagle towards Heaven. You must have trials from God's hand. And, if you are not relying on Christ, you will not be able to bear them. If you are not, by real faith, one with Jesus Christ, even God's rain will be too much for you. But there will also arise trials from earth--"the floods came." In former days the floods of persecution were more terrible than now, but persecution is still felt. And if you are a professor, you will have to bear a measure of it. Cruel mockings are still used against the people of God. The world no more loves the true Church today than it did in olden times. Can you bear slander and reproach for Jesus? Not unless you are firmly rooted and grounded. In the day of temptation and persecution the rootless plants of the stony ground are withered away. See you to this. Then there will come mysterious trials typified by "the winds." The prince of the power of the air will assail you with blasphemous suggestions, horrible temptations, or artful insinuations. He knows how to cast clouds of despondency over the human spirit. He can attack the four corners of the house at once by his mysterious agency. He can tempt us in many ways at the same time, and drive us to our wits' end. Woe to you, then, unless you have something to hold to better than the mere sand of profession! Where there is a good foundation trials will do no harm. But where there is no foundation they will frequently bring the man's profession down in ruin, even in this life. How many lose their religion at the very outset! Pliable and Christian both set out for the Celestial City, both aspiring to the crown of gold. But they fell into the Slough of Despond. And then one of them struggled out on the side nearest his own house, and went back to the City of Destruction. The other strove manfully to reach the further shore--the difference between the wise and foolish pilgrim was made manifest. After Christians have proceeded further they will be tried in other ways. Infidelities often try Christians. I mean doubts about the essentials of the faith and all its doctrines. And those that are not well cemented to the Rock are easily moved to unbelief. This is the age of infidelities, but they who are on the Rock by a truthful experience are not moved. A Negro was once told by a friend that some man had said the Bible was not true. Now, our poor friend had never thought anybody could doubt the Bible, but his quick way of disposing of the novel difficulty was, "Dat Book not true? Why, I take it into my house and I sit down and read it, and it make my heart laugh. How can it be a lie, dat make my heart laugh? I was a drunkard, a thief, and a liar, and dat Book talked to me and made me a new man--dat Book no lie." The very best proof in the world surely, at least to the man himself, if not to others. We who have had our hearts made to laugh by God's Word cannot be laughed out of our faith. We have lived on the Word and proved its truthfulness by experience--and are therefore invulnerable to all attacks--while strangers to such experience are staggered. Where the heart is really grounded upon the Truth, you will find that heresies as well as infidelities have but little effect. The sound Christian is like a stone--if he is thrown into the pool of false doctrine, he may be wet by it--but he does not receive it into his inner self. Whereas the unsound professor is like a sponge, he sucks it all in greedily and retains what he absorbs. How many there are who are tried by worldliness, and if their religion is but a mere profession, worldliness soon eats the heart of it as does a canker, and they become even as others! If, however, the Christian man's heart is right with God, he comes out and is separate, and the pride of life does not entrap him. In cases of backsliding, where there is a sound heart towards God, the backslider is soon brought back. But where the heart is rotten, the backslider goes from bad to worse. I was struck with a story of two men who were accustomed to give exhortations at meetings, who had fallen out with each other. One of their Brothers, who grieved to think two servants of God should be at differences with each other, went to reconcile them. He called upon the first, and said, "John, I am very sorry to find you and James have quarreled. It seems a great pity, and it brings much dishonor on the Church of God." "Ah," said John, "I am very grieved, too, and what grieves me most is that I am the sole cause of it. It was only because I spoke so bitterly that James took offense." "Ah, ah," said the good man, "we will soon settle this difficulty, then," and away he went to James. "James, I am very sorry that you and John cannot agree." "Yes," he said, "it is a sad thing we don't, we ought to do so, for we are Brothers. But what troubles me most is that it is all my fault. If I had not taken notice of a little word John said, there would have been an end of it." The matter, as you may guess, was soon rectified. You see there was at the bottom a true friendship between them, so that the little difficulty was soon overcome. And so where there is a true union between God and the soul, the backsliding will soon be recovered. IV. To close. Haying thus mentioned the common trials and the effects produced in this life, let me now remind you of the DIFFERENT RESULTS OF THE TRIALS in reference to the life to come. In the one case, the rain descended very heavily, and threatened to wash the house away, but it was built on a rock, and not only did the house stand, but the man inside found great comfort in it. He could hear the pelting torrent beating on the roof, and sit and sing. When the gusts came against the windows he would only be the more happy to think he had such a shelter. Then came the floods. They would, if they could, have sapped and undermined the foundations, but they took no effect on the granite rock. And though the wind howled round the habitation, every stone was well cemented and all bound as with iron bands to the grand old Rock--and therefore the man was safe and happy within. And above all, he was grateful that he had built on such a Foundation. He could sit down and sing-- "Loud may the troubled ocean roar, In sacred peace my soul abides." The Christian rests peacefully upon Christ. Troubles come one after another, but they do not sweep him away--they only endear to him the hope which is based upon Christ Jesus. And when at last death comes, that awful flood which will undermine everything that can be removed--it cannot find anything to shake in the wise builder's hope! He rests on what Christ has Done--death cannot affect that. He believes in a faithful God. And dying cannot affect that. He believes in the Covenant signed, and sealed, and ratified, in all things ordered well. He lays hold on the "shalls" and "wills" of an immutable God, all sealed with the blood of the Redeemer! Death cannot affect any of these. And when the last great trumpet sounds, and the last fire that shall try every man's work of what sort it is comes forth from the Throne of God, the man who in true sincerity and with real experience has laid hold on Christ is not afraid of the tremendous hour. What? Though the trumpet sounds exceedingly loud and long, and the dead awake, and the angels gather round the Great White Throne! And the pillars of Heaven tremble, and the earth is dissolved, and the elements melt with fervent heat--the man of God feels that the Rock on which he has built can never fail him, and the hope that Divine Grace has given him can never be removed. He smiles serenely amid it all. But look at the case of the man whose hope is built on sand! He could hardly endure the trials of life. He almost fell under common temptation. He turned his coat during the hour of persecution. But sorer trials now await him. Some hypocrites have been bolstered up even in the last moments, and perhaps have never known that they were lost till they felt they were. Like Dives, of whom it is written, "In Hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment." He had never lifted up his eyes before. He did not know his condition till he actually realized it in all its misery. But the most of men who have come under the sound of the Gospel, and made a profession--if they have been deceivers find it out at death--and it must be a dreadful thing to make that discovery when pain is sharp and parting is bitter. Ah, dear Friend, if you are mistaken, may you find it out now, and not on your deathbed. May your prayer be, "Lord, show me the worst of my case. If my profession has been a mistake, O let me not build up and prop up a rotten thing, but help me to build aright upon the Rock of Ages." Pray that prayer, I beseech you. Remember, if death should not teach you the whole Truth of your case, judgment will. There will be no mistake there, and no opportunity for repentance. This fallen house was never built again. There was no salvage from the total wreck. Lost, lost, lost--there is no word to follow. For once lost, lost forever! O dear Hearer, I bid you, if you have a name to live and are dead, arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you life! I pray you, if you are a seeker, be not put off with empty hopes and vain confidences. Buy the Truth and sell it not. Lay hold on eternal life. Seek the true Savior and be not content till you have Him, for if lost, your ruin will be terrible! Oh, that lake! Have you ever read the words, "Shall be cast into the Lake of Fire, which is the second death"? The Lake of Fire! And souls cast into it! The imagery is dreadful. "Ah," says one, "that is a metaphor." Yes, I know it is, and a metaphor is but a shadow of the reality. Then if the shadow is a lake of fire, what must the reality be? If we can hardly bear to think of a "worm that never dies," and a "fire that never shall be quenched," and of a lake whose seething waves of fire that dash over undying and hopeless souls--what must Hell be in very deed? The descriptions of Scriptures are, after all, but condescensions to our ignorance--partial revelations of fathomless mysteries. But if these are so dreadful, what must the full reality be? Provoke Him not, my Hearers--tempt not your God! Neglect not the great salvation, for if you do, you shall not escape. Play not with your souls! Be not heedless and careless of the realities of eternity! But now, even now, may God hear your prayer as you breathe it from your inmost souls, and give you truly to be washed in the precious blood, and effectually saved by Him, in Whom there is fullness of Truth and Grace. Amen. "My God, I mark with fear How many hopes decay, And like the foolish builder's house Fall in the trial day. Perhaps amid this throng You do a soul espy Whose towering hopes are built on sand, I ask, 'Lord, is it I?' A thousand doubts arise, I bring them all to You. Am I unconsciously deceived? Lord, search my heart and see. O teach me deep to dig Down to the solid Rock, That when tornadoes round me sweep My house may bear the shock. Jesus, You only are The sure foundation stone, Firm as the eternal hills are You, I build on You alone. Cemented fast to You No stone is laid in vain, My hope defies the assaults of Hell, The flood, the wind, the rain." __________________________________________________________________ The King Feasting in his Garden (No. 919) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MARCH 6, 1870, BY C.H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "I am come into My garden, My Sister, My Spouse: I have gathered My myrrh with My spice. I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey. I have drunk My wine with My milk: eat, O Friends; drink, yes, drink abundantly, O Beloved." Song of Solomon 5:1. I BELIEVE this text to be appropriate to the spiritual condition of our Church. If I am not very sadly mistaken, the Lord of Hosts is with us in a very remarkable manner. Our meetings for prayer have been distinguished by an earnest and fervent spirit. Our meetings with enquirers have been remarkably powerful. In a quiet manner, without any outward outcries, souls have been smitten down with conviction of sin, and have been comforted as they have received Christ by faith. By His Grace we are not a deserted Church, we are not left with broken hedges, with the wild boar of the wood committing devastations. The Lord has sent a gracious rain which has quickened the seed. He has watered the plants of His garden, and made our souls to rejoice in His Presence. Now if the text is appropriate, as I believe it is, the duty to which it especially calls us should have our earnest attention. The workers for Christ must remember that even if they have to care for the garden, their chief business must be to commune with the Lord and Master of that garden, since He, Himself, this morning calls them to do so. "Eat O friends; drink, yes, drink abundantly, O Beloved." In happy and auspicious times, when the Spirit of God is working, it is very natural to say, "We must now work more abundantly than ever," and God forbid that we should hinder such zeal--but more spiritual privilege is not to be put in the second place. Let us commune as well as work. For there shall we find strength for service, and our service shall be done the better, and become the more acceptable, and ensure the larger blessing. If while we serve like Martha we at the same time commune like Mary, we shall not, then, become cumbered with much serving. We shall serve and not be cumbered, and shall feel no fretfulness against others whose only faculty may be that of sitting at the Master's feet. The text divides itself readily into three parts. First, we have the Presence of the heavenly Bridegroom--"I am come into My garden, My sister, My spouse." We have, secondly, the satisfaction which He finds in His Church--"I have gathered My myrrh with My spice, I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey, I have drunk My wine with my milk." And, thirdly, we have the invitation which He gives to His loving people--"Eat, O friends; drink, yes, drink abundantly, O Beloved." I. The voice of the Master Himself calls us to consider HIS PRESENCE--"I am come." He tells us He is come. What? Could He come without our perceiving it? Is it not possible? May we be like those whose eyes were held so that they knew Him not? Is it possible for us to be like Magdalene, seeking Christ, while He is standing very near us? Yes, and we may even be like the disciples, who, when they saw Him walking on the water, were afraid. They thought it was a spirit, and cried out--and Jesus said, "It is I, be not afraid," before they knew who it was! Here is our ignorance, but here is His tenderness. He may come and yet we may not recognize Him--but here when He comes, He takes care to advertise us of the blessed fact, and calls us to observe and to consider, and to delight in it. He would, for our own comfort, prevent its being said of us, "He came unto His own, and His own received Him not." Let us observe, first, this coming was in answer to prayer. Our translators, in dividing the Bible into chapters, seem to have utterly disregarded the connection or the sense, so that they brought down their guillotine between two verses which must not be divided. The Church had said, "Awake, O north wind. And come, you south; blow upon my garden." She had also said, "Let my Beloved come into His garden, and eat His pleasant fruits." In answer to that prayer the Beloved replies, "I am come into My garden." Prayer is always heard, and the prayer of faithful souls finds an echo in Jesus' heart. How quickly the spouse was heard! Scarcely had the words died away, "Let my Beloved come," before she heard Him say, "I am come!" "Before they call, I will answer. And while they are yet speaking, I will hear." He is very near unto His people, and therefore He very speedily answers their request. And how fully does He answer them, too! You will, perhaps, say, "But she had asked for the Holy Spirit--she had said, 'Awake, O north wind. And come, you south.' And yet there is no mention of the heavenly wind as blowing through the garden." The answer is that the Beloved's coming means all that. His visit brings both north and south wind. All benign influences are sure to follow where He leads the way! Spices always flow out from the heart when Christ's sweet love flows in--and where He is, Christians have all things in Him. There was a full answer to her prayer, and there was more than an answer, for she had but said, "Let Him come and eat," but, lo, He gathers myrrh and spice, and He drinks of wine and milk. He does exceeding abundantly above what she had asked or even thought--after the right royal manner of the Son of God--who does not answer us according to the poverty of our expressions and the leanness of our desires, but according to His riches in Glory, giving to us Grace upon Grace out of His own inexhaustible fullness. Brethren, this Church has had a full reward for all her prayers. We have waited upon God often, all the day long there has been prayer in this house, and during this last month there has scarcely been an hour in which supplication has been suspended. And the answer has already come. We are so apt to overlook the answer to prayer. Let it not be so. Let us praise the Lord that prayer has not been a vain service. It has brought down His Presence, the chief of all blessings, and that for which we most interceded at His Throne. Let us exalt Him! We can hear Him say now, "I am come into your meetings, I am blessing you. I am saving souls, I am elevating some of you into nearness of fellowship with Myself. I am chastening some of your spirits with sadness to think you have lived in so groveling an estate. I am with you, I have heard your prayers, I have come to abide with you as a people." Now, if this is the case, let us next observe what an unspeakable blessing this is! If the voice had said, "I have sent My angel," that would have been a precious benefit. But it is not so spoken. The word is, "I am come." What? Does He, before whom angels adoringly bow their heads--does He, before whom perfect spirits cast their crowns--does He condescend to come into the Church? Yes, it is even so. There is a personal Presence of Christ in the midst of His people. Where two or three are met together in His name, there is He in the midst of them. His corporeal Presence is in Heaven, but His spiritual Presence, which is all we want--all it is expedient for Him as yet to grant--is assuredly in our midst. He is with us truly and really when we meet together in our solemn assemblies, and with us, too, when we separate and go our ways in private to fight the battles of the Lord. Brethren, for us to enjoy His Presence as a Church is a privilege whose value is only to be measured by the melancholy results of His absence. Where Jesus Christ is not in the garden, the plants wither, and like untimely figs the fruits fall from the trees. Blossoms come not, or if they appear, they do but disappoint when Jesus is not there to knit and fructify them. But when He comes, even the driest boughs in the garden become like Aaron's rod that budded! Yes, our older Brethren in the Church remember times of trouble, times when the ministry was not with power, when the gatherings on the Lord's-Day were joyless, when the voice of wailing saddened the courts of Zion. But now we rejoice, yes, and will rejoice! The contrast between the past and the joyous present should increase our gratitude till we praise the Lord on the high sounding cymbals with jubilant exaltation! Remember, too, that if He had dealt with us according to our sins, and rewarded us after our iniquities, we should never have heard the footsteps of the Beloved traversing the garden. How many have grieved the Holy Spirit by careless living and backsliding? How have most of us followed Him afar off instead of keeping step with Him in service and fellowship? Alas, my Lord, if You had regarded only the sins of the pastor of the Church, You had long ago left this flock. But You have not dealt with us severely, but according unto Your love and to Your mercy You have blotted out our sins like a cloud. And like a thick cloud our transgressions, and still do You condescend to come into Your garden. If you take each word of this remarkable sentence, you will find a meaning. "I am come." There is the personal Presence of Christ. "I am come." There is the certainty that it is so. It is no delusion, no dream, no supposition. "I am truly come." Blessed be the name of the Lord, at this present time it is assuredly so! Many of His saints can bear testimony that they have seen His face and have felt the kisses of His lips, and have proven, even this day, that His love is better than wine. Note the next word, "I am come into My garden." How near is the approach of Christ to His Church! He comes not to the garden door, nor to look over the wall, nor in at the gate and out again. But into His garden. He goes down every walk, midst the green alleys. Among the beds of spices He walks, watching each flower, pruning the superfluous foliage of every fruit-bearing plant, and plucking up by the roots such as His heavenly Father has not planted. His delights are with the sons of men. His communion with His chosen is most familiar--so that the spouse may sing, "My Beloved is gone down into His garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies." Jesus Christ, the Lord, forgets not His Church, but fulfils the promise--"I the Lord do keep it, I will water it every moment. Lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day." Brethren, this is a solemn as well as a pleasant fact. You who are members of this Church, remember that Jesus is come into the Church, that He is now going His rounds among you, and marking your feelings towards Him. He knows today who is in fellowship with Him, and who is not. He discerns between the precious and the vile. He never comes without the winnowing fan when He visits His threshing floor. Beware if you are as chaff. He has come into His garden. O you that have not enjoyed much of His gracious company, pray to Him to cast a look towards you, and be like the sunflower which turns its face to the sun to refresh itself with His beams. O pant and long for His Presence. If your soul is as dark as the dead of night, call out to Him, for He hears the faintest sigh of any of His chosen. "I am come into My garden," He says. Note here the possession which Christ claims in the Church. If it were not His garden, He would not come into it. A Church that is not Christ's Church shall have none of His Presence, and a soul that is not Christ's has no fellowship with Him. If He reveals Himself at all, it is unto His own people, His blood-bought people, the people that are His by purchase and by power--and by the surrender of themselves to Him. When I think of this Church as committed to my care, I am overawed, and well may my fellow officers be cast down under the weight of our responsibility. But after all, we may say, "Master, this garden is not ours. It is Your garden. We have not begotten all this people, neither can we carry them in our bosoms. But You, great Shepherd of the sheep, You will guard the fold." Since the garden is His own, He will not suffer even the least plant to perish. My Brethren who work for Christ--do not be downcast if certain portions of the work should not seem to succeed. He will attend to it. "The pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand." It is more His work than ours, and souls are more under His responsibility than ours. So let us hope and be confident, for the Master will surely smile upon His "vineyard of red wine." The next word denotes cultivation. "I am come into My garden." The Church is a cultivated spot. It did not spring up by chance, it was arranged by Himself. It has been tended by Himself, and the fruits belong to Himself. Thankful are we if we can truly know that as a Church -- "We are a garden walled around, Chosen and made peculiar ground." Christ, the Great Cultivator, exercises care and skill in training His people, and He delights to see His own handiwork in them. And then there are the two choice words at the close by which He speaks of His Church, herself, rather than of her work. As if He would draw the attention of His people to themselves and to Himself, rather than to their work. He says, "My Sister, My Spouse." There is one name for the garden, but there are two names for herself. The work is His work, the garden is His garden, but see, He wants communion not so much with the work as with the worker, He speaks to the Church herself. He calls her, "My Sister, My Spouse." "Spouse" has something in it of dearness that is not in the first word, for what can be dearer to the husband than the bride? But then there was a time when the spouse was not dear to the Bridegroom, there was a period, perhaps when He did not know her, when there was no relationship between the two--though they are made of one flesh by marriage, yet they were of different families. And for this cause He adds the dear name of "Sister," to show an ancient relationship to her, a closeness and a nearness by blood, by birth, as well as by betrothal and wedlock. The two words put together make up a confection of such inexpressible sweetness, that instead of seeking to expound them to you, I will leave them to your meditations, and may He who calls the Church, "Sister," and, "Spouse," open up their richness to your souls. Here, then, is the gist of the whole matter. The Master's Presence is in this Church in a very remarkable manner. Beloved, I pray that none of you may be like Adam, who fled among the trees to hide himself from God when He walked in the garden. May your business not act like an overshadowing thicket to conceal you from fellowship. He calls you, O Backslider, He calls you as once He called Adam--"Where are you?" Come, Beloved, come and commune with your Lord. Come away from those carking cares and anxieties which, like gloomy groves of cypress, conceal you from your Lord, or rather your Lord from you. Don't you hear His call? "O My Dove that is in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let Me see your countenance, let Me hear your voice. For sweet is your voice, and your countenance is comely." Let none of us be like the disciples in another garden when their Lord was there and He was in agony, but they were sleeping. Up, you Sleepers! Christ has come! If the midnight cry, "Behold, the Bridegroom comes," awoke the virgins, shall not, "I am come," awaken you? It is His own voice! It is not, "He comes," but "I am come"! Stand up, you Slumberers! And now, with heart and soul, seek fellowship with Him! It would be a sad thing if while Christ is with us any should be slumbering, and then should wake up and say, "Surely God was in this place and I knew it not." Rather may you invite Him to come into your souls and abide with you until the day breaks and the shadows flee away, and you behold Him face to face. II. Thus much upon the first point. And now may His Holy Spirit help us to view OUR LORD IN HIS CHURCH. The beautiful expressions of the text are capable of many holy meanings, and it is not possible that any expositions of mine could fully unveil their treasures. But let me observe, first, that Christ is delighted with the offerings of His people. He says, "I have gathered My myrrh with My spice." We may consider myrrh and spice as sweet perfumes offered by way of incense to God--as being indicative of the offerings which His people bring to Him. What if I say that prayer is like sweet smelling myrrh, and that the Beloved has been gathering the myrrh of holy prayer, the bitter myrrh of repenting sighs and cries in the midst of this Church, lo, these many months? You, perhaps, thought that poor wordless prayer of yours was never heard, but Jesus gathered it, and called it spice. And when some Brother was praying aloud, and in silence your tears fell thick and fast for perishing sinners, for you could not bear that they should die, nor endure that Christ's name should be blasphemed, the Beloved gathered up the precious drops and counted them as costly oil of sweetest smell. Was it not said in Psalm 72:15, "Prayer also shall be made for Him continually"? And you did pray for Him that His name might be as ointment poured forth, and that He might gird His sword upon His thigh and ride forth prosperously. Jesus observed and delighted in your heart's offering. Others knew not that you prayed--perhaps you thought, yourself, that you scarcely prayed--but He gathered His myrrh with His spice from you. No faithful prayer is lost. The groanings of His people are not forgotten. He gathers them as men gather precious products from a garden which they have tilled with much labor and expense. And then, may not spice represent our praises? For these, as well as prayer, come up as incense before His Throne. Last Thursday night when my brother spoke to you, if you felt as I did, I am sure your heart sent up praise as smoke of incense from the warm coals of a censer, as he cast on them handfuls of frankincense in the form of various motives for gratitude and reasons for praise. Oh, it was good to sing God's praises as we then did by the hour together. It was delightful, too, to come to His Table and make that ordinance in very deed a service of praise to God. Praise is pleasant and comely, and most of all so because Jesus accepts it, and says, "Whoever offers praise glorifies Me." When the Lord, in another place, speaks of offering sweet cane bought with money, does He not refer to other offerings which His people bring in addition to their prayers and their praises, when they give to Him the first fruits of all their increase, and present thank offerings to His name? He has said, "None of you shall appear before Me empty," and I hope none of you have been content to do so! The contributions given for the spread of His cause, for the feeding of His poor, and clothing of His naked ones are given by true hearts directly to Himself. Though they may be but as two mites that make a farthing, yet offered in His name are they not also included in this word, "I have gathered My myrrh with My spice"? The Savior's satisfaction is found, in the next place, in His people's love--"I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey." Shall I be wrong if I believe that this sweetness refers to Christian love? For this is the richest of all the graces, and sweetens all the rest. Jesus Christ finds delightful solace in His people's love, both in the inward love which is like the honey, and in the outward manifestation of it, which is like the honeycomb. He rejoices in the love that drips in all its preciousness from the heart, and in the honeycomb of organization, in which it is for order's sake stored up and put into His hand. Or, what if it should mean that Christ overlooks the imperfections of His people? The honeycomb is not good eating, but He takes that as well as the honey! "I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey." As He looks upon His people, and sees what He has done for them, His loving heart rejoices in what His Grace has accomplished! As a benevolent man who has taken a child from the street and educated it would be pleased to see it growing up, prospering, happy, well-informed, talented--so when Jesus Christ, remembering what His people were, sees in them displays of Divine Grace, desires after holiness, self-denials, communion with God, and the like--this is to Him like honey. He takes an intense satisfaction in the sweet fruits which He Himself has caused us to produce. In spite of all our imperfections, He accepts our love, and says, "I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey." Turning again to our precious text, we observe that our Lord's satisfaction is compared to drinking as well as eating, and that drinking is of a twofold character. "I have drunk My wine." Does He intend, by this, His joy which is fulfilled in us when our joy is full? Does He mean that as men go to feasts to make glad their hearts with wine, so He comes to His people to see their joy, and is filled with exultation? Isn't that what He means? Surely He does. And the milk, may not that mean the Christian's common, ordinary life? As milk contains all the constituents of nourishment, may He not mean by this the general life of the Christian? Our Lord takes delight in the graces of our lives. One has said that wine may represent those actions resulting from well-considered dedication and deep spiritual thought. For wine must be extracted from the grape with labor and preserved with care--there must be skill, and work, and forethought spent upon it. But milk is a natural production--it flows freely, plentifully, spontaneously. It is a more common and ordinary, yet precious thing. So the Lord delights that His people should give to Him those elaborate works which they have to tend with loving care and watch over with much anxiety before they are produced. These are the wine. But He would have them give Him the simple outgushing of their souls, the ejaculations which flow forth without labor, the little deeds of love which need no forethought, the everyday outgoings of their inner life-- these are milk, and are equally acceptable to Him. Well, if it is so, certain it is that Christ finds great pleasure is His people, and in their various forms of piety He drinks His wine with His milk. Permit me now to call your attention to those many great little words, which are yet but one--I refer to the word "My." Observe that eight or nine times it is repeated. Here is the reason for the solace which the Bridegroom finds in His Church. Does He walk in the Church as men do in a garden for pleasure? Then He says, "I am come into My garden." Does He talk with His Beloved? It is because He calls her, "My Sister, My Spouse." Does He love her prayers and praises? It is because they never would be prayed or praised if He had not created these fruits of the lips. He says not, "I have gathered your myrrh with your spice." Oh, no! Viewed as ours, these are poor things, but viewed as His they are most acceptable. "I have gathered My myrrh with My spice." So if He finds any honey in His people, any true love in them, He first put it there. "I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey." Yes, and if there is any joy and life in them to make His heart glad, He calls it, "My wine," and, "My milk." When I read these words, and thought of our Lord's being fed by us, I could almost have cried out, "Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You? Or thirsty, and give You drink? Do You find any satisfaction in us? Surely, our goodness extends not to You. Why should we give You anything to eat?" Yet He declares it. And we may blushingly believe Him, and praise His name--for surely if He found it so--it is because He made it so. If He has gotten anything out of us, He must first have put it in us. If He sees of the travail of His soul, it is because the travail came first. Note well, you lovers of Jesus, that our Lord in this heavenly verse is fed first. "I have eaten," He says. And then He turns to us, and says, "Eat, O Friends." If any of you seek friendship with the Well-Beloved, you must commence by preparing Him a feast. Remember our Lord's own parable--"Which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'?" Even if your poverty compels you, to say, "As the Lord lives, I have not a cake, but a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse," listen to Him as He answers, "Fear not, make Me thereof a little cake first." Be assured that after you have done so, your barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail. The way for Believers to be fed by Christ is to seek to feed Him--look to His being satisfied, and He will assuredly look to you. "You shall eat neither bread, nor parched corn, nor green ears, until the same day that you have brought an offering unto your God." (Lev. 23:14). "Bring you all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in My house, and prove Me now herewith, says the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of Heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." See, my Brothers and Sisters--you must find meat for your Lord, and then, but not till then--there shall be meat for you! In a feast it is remarkable how complete the entertainment is. There is the sweetest food and the most nourishing and exhilarating drink. Then over and above that there is the rarest perfume, not counted to be needed in ordinary entertainments, but crowning all and making up a right royal feast. How marvelous that our Beloved should find within His Church all that His soul wants! Having given Himself to cover her, He delights in her, He rests in His love, and rejoices over her with singing. For the Joy that was set before Him, He endured the Cross, despising the shame--and this day He continues to be filled with the same delight. III. I would gladly linger, but time forbids. We must now remember, in the third place, that the text contains an INVITATION. The Beloved says, "Eat, O Friends; drink, yes, drink abundantly, O Beloved." In the invitation we see the character of the invited guests--they are spoken of as friends. We were once aliens, we are now more like the Lord from whom the love proceeds. O you that stand shivering in the cold shallows of the river of life, why tarry there? Descend into the greater depths, the warmer waves, and let the mighty stream bathe you breast high. Yes, go farther, plunge where you can find no bottom, for it is blessed and safe swimming in the stream of Christ's everlasting love and He invites you to it now. When you are at a big banquet table, pick not here and there a crumb, sip not now and then a drop--He says, "Eat," and He adds, "drink abundantly." The invitation to receive abundantly applies to both refreshments. Your eating and your drinking may be without stint. You cannot impoverish the Most High God, possessor of Heaven and earth. When you are satiated with His love, His table shall still be loaded. Your cups may run over, but His flagons will still be brimmed. If you are straitened at all, you are not straitened in Him--you are straitened in yourselves. But now let me speak to my Brethren, and especially to my fellow workers in the kingdom of Christ. It is for us, just now, while our Lord is walking in His garden--while He is finding satisfaction in His work and in His people--to beware of taking any satisfaction in the work ourselves. And equally to beware that we do not neglect the appropriate duty of the occasion, namely, that of feasting our souls with our Lord's gracious provisions. You are caring for others, it is well. You are rejoicing over others, it is well. Still watch well yourselves, and rejoice in the Lord in your own hearts. What did He say to the Twelve when they came back glorying that even the devils were subject unto them? Did He not reply, "Nevertheless rejoice not in this, but rather rejoice that your names are written in Heaven"? It is your personal interest in Christ, your being yourself saved, Christ being present with you--that is your main joy. Enjoy the feast for yourselves, or you will not be strong to hand out the Living Bread to others. See that you are first partakers of the fruit, or you will not labor aright as God's farmers. The more of personal enjoyment you allow yourself in connection with your Lord, the more strong will you be for His service, and the more out of an experimental sense of His preciousness will you be able to say with true eloquence, "O taste and see that the Lord is good!" You will tell others what you have tasted and handled. You will say, "This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and delivered him from all his fears." I put this before you with much earnestness, and I pray that none of you may think it safe to work as to forget to commune--or wise to seek the good of others so as to miss personal fellowship with the Redeemer. I might now conclude, but it strikes me that there may be some among us who are, in their own apprehensions, outside the garden of Christ's Church. They are, therefore, mourning over this sermon, and saying, "Alas, that is not for me! Christ is come into His garden, but I am a piece of waste ground. He is fed and satisfied in His Church, but He finds nothing in me. Surely I shall perish from the way, when His wrath is kindled but a little!" I know how apt poor hearts are to write bitter things against themselves--even when God has never written a single word against them. So let me see if by turning over this text we may not find thoughts of consolation for the trembling ones. We were once enemies. We are made servants, but we have advanced from the grade of service (though servants, still) into that of friends. From now on He calls us not servants, but friends, for the servant knows not what his Lord does. And all things that He has seen of His Father He has made known unto us. The friendship between Christ and His people is not in name only, but in deed and in truth. Having laid down His life for His friends, having brought them to know His friendship in times of trial and of difficulty, He at all times proves His friendship by telling His secrets to them and exhibiting an intense sympathy with them in all their secret suffering. David and Jonathan were not more closely friends than Christ and the Believer, when the Believer lives near to His Lord. Never seek the friendship of the world, nor allow your love to the creature to overshadow your friendship with Christ. He next calls His people Beloved as well as friends. He multiplies titles, but all His Words do not express the full love of His heart. "Beloved." Oh, to have this word addressed to us by Christ! It is music! There is no music in the rarest sounds compared with these three syllables which drop from the Redeemer's lips like sweet smelling myrrh. "Beloved!" If He had addressed that one word to any one of us, it would create a Heaven within our souls which neither sickness nor death could mar! Let me sound the note again, "BELOVED!" Does Jesus love me? Does He own His love? Does He seal the fact by declaring it with His own lips? Then I will not stipulate for promises, nor make demands of Him. If He loves He must act towards me with loving kindness. He will not smite His Beloved unless love dictates the blow. He will not forsake His chosen, for He never changes. Oh, the inexpressible, the heaped-up blessedness which belong to the man who feels in his soul that Christ has called him Beloved! Here, then, you have the character in the text of those who are invited to commune with Christ. He calls His friends and His Beloved. The provisions presented to them are of two kinds. They are bid to eat and to drink. You, who are spiritual, know what the food is and what the drink is--for you eat His flesh and drink His blood. The incarnation of the Son of God, and the death of Jesus the Savior--these are the two sacred viands whereon faith is sustained. To feed upon the very Christ of God is what is needed. Nothing but this can satisfy the hunger of the spirit. He who feeds on Him shall know no lack. "Eat," says He, "and drink." You ask, "Where are the provisions?" I answer, they are contained in the first words of the text, "I am come." If He is come, then eat. If He is come, then drink. There is food, there is drink for you in Him! Note that delightful word, "abundantly." Some dainties satiate, and even nauseate when we have too much of them. But no soul ever had too much of the dear love of Christ. No heart did ever complain that His sweetness was too much. That can never be. Some things, if you have too much of them, may injure you. They are good to a certain point, but beyond that, evil. But even the smallest child of Grace shall never overindulge himself with Jesus' love. No, the more you have, the more you shall enjoy, the more blessed shall you be, and who knows? There may be a soft breath in the text which may fan the smoking flax, a tender hand that may bind up the bruised reed. I will briefly indicate two or three comfortable thoughts. Seeking Soul, should it not console you to think that Jesus is near? The kingdom of God is come near unto you, for He has come into His garden. He was in our last meeting for anxious souls, for many found Him there. You are not, then, living in a region where Christ is absent--maybe when He passes by He will look on you. Can you not put out your finger and touch the hem of His garment, for Jesus of Nazareth passes by? Even if you have not touched Him, yet it should give you some good cheer to know that He is within reach, and within call. Though you are like the poor withered lily in the garden, or worse still, like a noxious weed--yet if He is in the garden He may observe you and have pity on you. Notice, too, that although the text speaks of a garden, it never was a garden till He made it so. Men do not find gardens in the wilderness. In the wilds of Australia or the backwoods of America, men never stumble on a garden where human foot has ever been. It is all forest, or prairie, or mountain. So, mark, Soul, if the Church is a garden, Christ made it so. Why cannot He make you so? Why not, indeed? Has He not said, "Instead of the thorns shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briers shall come up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off"? This garden-making gives God a name. Jesus gets honor by plowing up the wastes, extracting the briers, and planting firs and myrtles there. See, then, there is hope for you yet, you barren Heart--He may yet come and make your wilderness like Eden--and your desert like the garden of the Lord. Note, too, that the Bridegroom gathered myrrh, and fed on milk and wine, and honey. Yes, and I know you thought, "He will find no honey in me. He will find no milk and wine in me." Ah, but then the text did not say He found them in the Church. It is said, "I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey. I have drunk My wine with My milk." And if He put those things into His Church, and then took comfort in them, why not put them into you, and take comfort in you, too? Be of good cheer! Arise, He calls you this very morning. Another word, perhaps, may help you. Did you notice, poor hungry Soul, how Jesus said, "drink abundantly"? "Ah," you say, "He did not say that to me." I know it. He said that to His friends and to His Beloved--and you dare not put yourselves among those. But do not you see how generous He is to His friends, and how He keeps back nothing? He evidently does not mean to lock anything up in the storeroom, for He tells them to eat and drink abundantly. Now, surely, where there is such a festival, though you dare not come and sit at the table with the guests, you might say with the Syrophenician woman, "Yet the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs." It is good knocking at a door where they are keeping open house, and where the feast reveals a lavish hospitality. Knock now, and try it. If it were a poor man's dinner with a dry crust and a poor herring, or if it were a miser's meal spread most begrudgingly, I would not advise you to knock. But where there is wine and milk in rivers, and the good Man of the house bids His guests eat and drink abundantly, I say knock, for God says it shall be opened! Another thought. Jesus finds meat and drink in His Church, and you are afraid He would find neither in you--I want to tell you a Truth of God which, perhaps, you have forgotten. There was a woman that was a sinner. She had had five husbands, and he with whom she then lived was not her husband. She was an adulteress and a Samaritan. But Christ said, after He had conversed with her, that He had found meat to eat that His disciples knew not of. Where did He get it, then? If He had drank that day, He did not get it from Jacob's well, for He had nothing to draw with, and the well was deep. He found big refreshment in that poor woman, to whom He said, "Give me to drink." The Samaritan harlot refreshed the soul of Jesus--when she believed in Him and owned Him as the Christ! Have you ever read that Word of His, "My meat and My drink is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work"? And what is the will of Him that sent Him? Well, I will tell you what it is not-- "It is not the will of your Father, that is in Heaven, that one of these little ones should perish." The will of God and the will of Christ are these--to save sinners. For this purpose was Jesus born and sent into the world--He came into the world to seek and to save that which was lost. See, then, poor lost One, in saving you, Christ will find both meat and drink! I trust, therefore, you will look to Him and cry to Him, and cast yourself upon Him--and you shall never, as long as you live, have any cause for regretting it. Finally, the text represents the Lord saying, "I am come into My garden." It may imply that He is not always in His garden. Sometimes His Church grieves Him and His manifest Presence departs. But hearken, O Sinner, there is a precious thought for you--He is not always in His garden. But He is always on the Throne of Grace. He does not always say, "I am come into My garden," but He always says, "Come unto Me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He never leaves the Mercy Seat. He never ceases to intercede for sinners. Come, and welcome, then. If you have not seen the Beloved's face, come and bow at His feet. Though you have never heard Him say, "Your sins are forgiven you," yet come now with a broken and a contrite heart and seek absolution at His hands. Come, and welcome! Come, and welcome! May the sweet Bridegroom with cords of love draw you, and may this morning be a time of love. And as He passes by, if He sees you wallowing in your blood, may He say unto you, "Live!" May the Lord grant it, and on His head shall be many crowns. Amen! Amen! Amen! __________________________________________________________________ Backsliding Healed (No. 920) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MARCH 13, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "I will heal their backsliding." Hosea 14:4. WHICH rings with the more sonorous voice, the knell, "their backsliding," or the marriage peal, "I will heal"? All through the Scripture records there is revealed a vehement contest between man's sin and God's Grace--each of them striving to become more abundant than the other. Sin, like a dragon, pours forth floods from its mouth, and God's mercy, as a shoreless ocean, rolls in greater majesty. Sin abounds, so that none can measure its heinousness or power. But where sin abounds Grace does much more abound. In the text sin abounds--"their backsliding." There is a comprehensiveness in that word, a dreadful abyss of iniquity. But Grace abounds yet more, "I will heal their backsliding." Here is a height and depth of Grace like the God from whom it came--incomprehensible and infinite! I shall ask you, this morning, in order that we may get the full measure of benefit which this text may bestow upon us, under the teaching of God's Spirit, first, to notice the words of the text one by one. Secondly, to consider the blessing of the text. And then, thirdly, if we are led of the Holy Spirit, let us not leave this House of Prayer till we have gained the realization of the text. I. First, then, let us take THE WORDS OF THE TEXT, "I will heal their backsliding." We shall call your attention first, to a word of humiliation, "backsliding." The very sound of it ought to arouse our spirits. And the consciousness of having fallen into it should make us lay our mouths in their dust, and confess that we are unclean. Backsliding is among God's people very common. Not common, perhaps, in its highest degree--God forbid it should be--but in its earlier forms. From its commencement in backsliding--of thought, and heart--on to backsliding in act, I fear the disease is so rife among the people of God that there is scarcely one of us who has not at some time or other suffered from it. And I fear that the most of us might confess, if we judged our own hearts rightly, that in some measure we are backsliding even now. The proper condition for a child of God is walking in the light as Christ is in the light, and so having fellowship with Jesus. Our right condition, and our only safe standing is to abide in Him, and to have His Words and Himself abiding in us. But too often we follow afar off--we are living in very limited and remote fellowship with our Redeemer. These things ought not to be. There is no necessity that they should be, but alas! Alas! Alas! Search the whole Church through, and you shall find them in multitudes, and in some you shall perceive signs of the most sorrowful decay through an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God. Think, Beloved, each one of you who are Christ's, how much you may have backslidden of late. Have you not become lax in prayer? You maintain the habit of it, and you could not give that up, but you have not that power in prayer you once had. You still read the Word, but maybe the Scripture is not so sweet to you as it was before. You come now to the Communion Table--you have not learned to forsake the assembling of yourselves together there. But oh, the face of the King, in His beauty! Have you seen that as you once did? Perhaps you are still doing a little for His cause, but are you doing what you once did or all you might do? Instead of going on unto perfection, is not your growth stunted? Must you not confess that you are not a runner towards Heaven so much as a loiterer in the road there? Do these accusations evoke no confessions? I fear the most of us, if we came to search, would have to say, "I do remember when the love of my espousals was upon me, and my heart was warm with love to Christ. But now, alas! How slow are my passions in moving towards Him! O that I could feel once again the glow of my first love, and that my spirit did rejoice in Him as on the day of my conversion." I ask you, Brothers and Sisters, if you have to make such acknowledgments, whether you would have believed such things of yourselves when you first came to Christ? If a Prophet had told me that I should be so ungrateful to the dear Lover of my soul, I should have said, "Is your servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" Bought with His precious blood, and delivered from going down to the pit in those younger days of our attachment, we thought we should evermore closer and closer cleave to our Deliverer. No sacrifice appeared too great, no duty too irksome, if Jesus did but command it. Yes, we have sorrowfully failed in many respects, and have need to, with deepest sorrow of heart, confess our backsliding and bemoan ourselves before God. But I will not dwell longer upon that word. Such lamentations may end when the heart grows tender. If we see sin sufficiently to make us bewail it, we may then look away from it, for the next word which we shall consider is a word of consolation--"heal." "I will heal their backsliding." There is consolation in the very fact that the Lord, here, looks upon the grievous sin of backsliding under the image of a disease. It is not said, "I will pardon their backsliding," that is included in the term, but "I will heal" it--as though He said, "My poor people, I do remember that they are but dust. They are liable to a thousand temptations through the Fall, and they soon go astray. But I will not treat them as though they were rebels, I will look upon them as patients--and they shall look upon Me as a physician." Why there is consolation in the very fact that God should condescend, for Jesus' sake, thus to look upon our loathsome, abominable, ill-deserving, Hell-deserving sin as being, not so much a condemning iniquity in His sight, but as a disease upon which He looks, pitying us that we should endure the power of it. And then observe--having looked at backsliding as a disease, He does not say, "I will put this diseased one away." Under the legal dispensation he who had leprosy, or any contagious disease, must be put without the camp, but it is not here said, "I will banish them for their backsliding." O my dear Friends, if we had been put out of God's Church, if we had never been suffered again to come to His Table, we confess we have richly deserved to have it so, but it is not so written here. It is not, "I will put them in quarantine. I will expel them out of the goodly land, and from among My people." No--"I will heal their backsliding." Nor does He say, "I will destroy them, because of their backsliding." Some will have it that God's people may sin, partially and finally, so as never to be the Lord's Beloved again. They say they can sin themselves out of the Covenant. But we have not so learned Christ, neither have we so understood the Fatherhood of our God-- "Whom once He loves, He never leaves, But loves them to the end." "The gifts and calling of God are without repentance," on His part towards His people. "The God of Israel says He hates putting away." No, it is not, "I will strike their names out of the Book of Life." It is not, "I will disinherit them, seeing they have proved unfaithful to Me," but, "I will heal their backsliding." That is to say, whatever their sin may have been I will overcome it, I will drive it out, I will restore them to their first condition of health. I will do more, I will so heal them that one day without spot or wrinkle or any such thing they shall see their Father's face." A word of consolation! The next is a word of majesty. It is the first word of the text, "I will heal their backsliding." "I." It is Jehovah Himself who here speaks, the Omnipotent, to whom nothing is difficult. The All-Wise, to whom nothing is secret. He has not promised that their backsliding shall be healed by unknown means, but that He, Himself, will heal it. Suppose He had said, "I will let them alone, and see to what their backsliding will turn. It may be, perhaps, after a period it will work out all its venom, and the wound will be cured." No, my Brethren, had we been left to ourselves, our wounds have become corrupt, and our spirit would have utterly perished. We have gone astray like lost sheep, and one of the ways in which lost sheep go astray is this--they never think of returning. The shepherd must seek them, or else they will wander further and further from home. Note well that the Lord does not say in the text, "My Word shall heal their backsliding," or, "I will send My minister to heal their backsliding." He does graciously use His Word--it is His ordained means of blessing His people--and He condescendingly employs His ministers, unworthy though they are, to do much service for His children. But after all, it is neither the Word nor the minister that can do anything--only when the Lord puts His hand to the work is it done effectually. "I will heal their backsliding." Just as Jesus, Himself, going among the sick folk scattered healing here and there, and made yonder lame man leap as a hart, and yonder dumb tongue to sing, opened blind eyes, drove out fevers and chased away devils--even so it is Your touch, Immanuel--it is Your Presence, You Savior of sinners, that does heal us of all our sins. He Himself took our sicknesses, and therefore He knows how to deliver us from them. Is not His name Jehovah-Rophi, the Lord that heals you? And has He not said, "The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick: the people that dwell there shall be forgiven their iniquity"? It is Jehovah that says it! Then rest assured the work will be done. Has He said, and shall He not do it? It is Jehovah that says it! However desperate our soul is in sickness, it shall be recovered. For is anything too hard for the Lord? "I will heal their backsliding." Blessed be His name! When you and I feel our backsliding, if it had been said that the backsliding should be healed by any ordinary means, we should have replied, "Not mine. No, Lord, mine is a case beyond all others, hopeless, helpless, incurable." But when it is said, "I will heal," how it takes away all power to be unbelieving, for what cannot the Lord do? What diseases cannot He chase away? He can speak even to the dead and make them live! Therefore let us have hope in Him, for however far we may have gone, and however broken our heart may be concerning it, He can bind up all our wounds and make each broken bone to sing--and this shall be the song--"Lord, who is like unto You, passing by transgression, iniquity, and sin, and remembering not the backslidings of your people?" Thus we have had three out of the five words of the text--one for our humiliation. The second for our consolation. And the third for our adoration, since it reveals the majesty of God. Another word is in the text, which I shall venture to lift up out of the background in which it dwells ordinarily, "I will heal their backsliding." Here is a word of certainty. "I will"--"I will heal their backsliding." But why will He heal? Why does He say so positively that He "will"? Here is no perhaps. No perhaps. The men in Nineveh went to God with nothing to encourage them, but, "who can tell?" But the children of God come to Him with "shalls" and "wills" to plead. I pray you, Backslider, if you desire to return to the Lord this morning, observe the certainty of the text, and plead it. God who says "I will," is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should repent. If He says, "I will," you can say, "Lord, fulfill this word unto Your servant, upon which You have caused me to hope." But why will God heal His people? He will because He has assumed the office of physician, and for a physician to fail in his attempts reflects upon him no honor. Every patient that the physician loses is so much loss to the fame of his skill. "I will heal their backsliding," says God. "I have undertaken to save them, and I will go through with it. I have made with them in Christ a Covenant, ordered in all things and sure, and I will not suffer one of these, My little ones, to perish, and I will heal their backsliding." Are they not His children? Now, if a physician failed to exercise his skill on a stranger, yet surely he will not upon his own child! There is nothing in the whole compass of pharmacy that the child should not have. There is nothing in all the art of surgery which the surgeon would not exercise upon his own beloved child if he has need of it. Of ALL His children the Divine Father says, "I will heal their backsliding." Beloved, we have cost our God too dear for Him to suffer us to perish, and perish we must without healing-- therefore He will heal us. On every child of God the Father sees the marks of the Redeemer's blood. Every heir of Heaven carries about with him mementoes that touch the Father's soul, for He remembers well the bloody sweat of Gethsemane, and the groans and cries of the Well-Beloved. You who believe in Jesus cost too much--He cannot let you die. The Lord has loved you too long to let you perish, for before the foundation of the world His heart went out towards His chosen. From of old His delights were with the sons of men. Before you were fashioned and curiously worked in the lower parts of the earth, you lived in the heart of God, and lay upon the bosom of your Redeemer with Whom, even then, you were accounted as one in the Covenant of Grace. "I will heal their backsliding." No disease shall slay them, no sin shall fester in them so as to destroy them. I, Jehovah, who have chosen them, who have redeemed them and called them by My Grace, I will heal them." Heaven and earth may pass away, but this Word shall not pass away. Oh, the blessed certainty of the Divine Word! There is yet a fifth word in the text, and that is a word of personality. "I will heal their backsliding." That is to say, the backsliding, first, of all His Israel. He is speaking of Israel. "I will heal their backsliding"--His own peculiar peo-ple--His own elect ones. He Himself shall and will heal them. He will not suffer one of them to become sick with sin that it shall be fatal to them. That we may know whether we share in this promise we may judge from other words which precede the text. Those of whom He spoke were willing to come to Him and say, "Take away all iniquity, receive us graciously, and love us freely." If there is any man here who desires to be forgiven for Christ's name's sake because of the Free Grace of God. If there is any here bemoaning his iniquity and desirous to return unto his God. If there is any soul who now sincerely closes in with God's way of salvation, and would gladly find deliverance from every sin--such a man may be assured that he is one of those of whom God has said, "I will heal their backsliding." Do you hate your backsliding? Do you, like David, cry, "against You, You only have I sinned, and done this evil in Your sight, that You might be justified when You speak, and be clear when You judge"? Do your sins pain you? Have they become a very plague to your heart? Oh, then He will heal your backslidings! Are you earnest in prayer? Do you cry out that He would have pity upon you? Can you weep the penitential tear? Has He looked on you as He looked on Peter, and can you go out and weep bitterly, if not with actual drops that distil externally from the eyes, yet with inward drops that fall within from the still of the heart? If so, He that breaks hearts always means to heal them. He never yet gave a wounded and a contrite spirit but what He was sure, before long to bring to it a better balm than Gilead ever knew, and to let the blood of Jesus speak better things than that of Abel, even peace eternally within that wounded spirit. "Their backsliding"--take the word and turn it to the singular and make it in the first person--say, "Lord, heal my backslidings! Heal those I know not of, 'cleanse You me from secret faults.' I do know some of them, and I mourn them. Deliver Your servant as a bird out of the snare of the fowler, and my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness." So you see the text has a meaning in every one of its words. I have drawn already five lessons from the five words which it contains. II. But we pass on to try and bring out more clearly THE BLESSING OF THE TEXT. "I will heal their backsliding." That blessing must be measured, first, by the evil from which it delivers "backsliding." Backsliding is treated as a disease. Let us speak awhile upon that fact. Let us say, concerning backsliding, that it is one of the most dangerous things into which a child of God can fall. It endangers all present joy. It greatly injures usefulness. And it imperils the future. No professing Christian falls into the great open sin all at once--much backsliding has gone before. See the tree blown down by the strong winds. Nine times out of ten, if you look carefully at it, you will see that insects have been at work at it years before, and rotted it. And, therefore, when at last the trial came, it only consummated what had long been going on. When, some years ago, many of our greatest commercial houses suddenly collapsed, and bankruptcies were so terribly frequent, you do not imagine that they lost their money all in a day! In the investigation of their accounts it was proved in many cases that ten, or even twenty years before, the firms began to go back in the world. Little by little, as a rule, backsliding leads on to overt apostasy and sin. No, no--so mature a servant of the devil as Judas is not produced all at once. It takes time to educate a man for the scorner's seat. Take care, therefore, of backsliding because of what it leads to. If you begin to slip on the side of a mountain of ice, the first slip may not hurt if you can stop and slide no further. But, alas, you cannot so regulate sin! When your feet begin to slide, the rate of their descent increases, and the difficulty of arresting this motion is incessantly becoming greater. It is dangerous to backslide in any degree--for we know not to what it may lead. It is a defiling thing to backslide, for a man cannot lose the intensity of his love to Christ and holiness without becoming thereby worldly and impure in heart. You cannot be less in prayer without being less like God. Sin is quite certain to seek a dwelling for himself in any heart where the Spirit of God is not actually present. Let your God withdraw His manifest fellowship, and sin is sure to come in to fill up the vacuum. Backsliding mars the whiteness of the righteousness of saints and blots their beauty. And as it is defiling, so is it contagious. One Believer cannot be living a life of little Grace without weakening those Believers who come into contact with him. I know some holy men (I wish to be more like they) who are a blessing to all with whom they converse. Wherever they are, like an Oriental perfume, they spread a fragrance all around. Their lives are like the star in the east which led men to Christ. Their graciousness reminds us of the blessing of Asher, whose promise was that he should dip his foot in oil--for wherever they go they leave the tokens of the unction of the Holy One behind them. But the dark side to this picture is the fact that if we decline in Grace, our backsliding has a down-dragging tendency on others. The whole army is impeded by the lagging of a single regiment. The old naturalists used to speak of a creature they called a remora, which they believed could fasten with its suckers upon a sailing vessel and hinder its progress. Backsliding Christians are just such remoras to the good ship of the Church, they are barnacles upon her, and impede her voyage-- "One sickly sheep infects the flock, And weakens all the rest." When there is a parliamentary train crawling along in front, even the limited express mail is hindered. When one professor acts in a worldly, careless, indifferent, or covetous spirit, he encourages others to do the same--and the example soon multiplies itself. I wish I could make you see what a backslider is. I am afraid I cannot, but a simple illustration may help you. Do you remember that fine, athletic young man who was for years among us, and was almost envied for his robust health and remarkable vigor? Exertion was to him a pleasure. He rejoiced as a strong man to run a race. Strong as an oak, upright as a palm tree, and comely as a cedar--you had but to see him to admire him. Alas, we miss him from his usual seat, and his place of daily service knows him no more. He cannot mix in our assemblies, and never will again. He rises very late in the day, and the slightest motion is labor to him. He has a horrible deep-seated cough, and he is reduced to a skeleton. His cheeks are sunken. There is a peculiar brightness of the eyes, but, with the exception of that, there is nothing about him that reminds you of what he was. And, if you should take a stranger to see him, you would say, "You cannot imagine what that young man used to be." His mother weeps to think that this is her son, once the image of manly power. It pains her inmost heart to know that this is certainly her boy, her once strong and healthy boy. Yet he is not dead--no, but it is grievous to see how near death he has come, and with what difficulty he breathes. How weak are his lips, how languid is his pulse, how small his appetite! The strong man is now weaker than a little child. In fact, man as he is, his father has to take him in his arms and carry him up and down stairs, for he cannot otherwise come out of his chamber. Here is a sadly truthful picture of what a Christian may become in spirit. He may suffer spiritual consumption, and decline from weakness to weakness till life barely retains its hold. He shall not die--for his life is bid with Christ in God. But he may gradually backslide until he is weak as water, and full of doubts and fears, and a thousand ills. The backslider has no strength for service. He renders nothing to the Church, but rather requires other Christians to watch, and help, and tend him. He wants comforts and cordials, but from them all he has little or no enjoyment--he lives, blessed be God, he lives--but it is a struggling, unhappy, meager life. His religion gives him little rapture and very much anxiety. Few are the promises that he feeds upon, and many are the threats that haunt him. He will be saved, yet so as by fire. God forbid that you or I should run the frightful risks that backsliders run who thus walk wide of Jesus Christ and dwell far below the elevated region where spiritual health is sustained. May our souls prosper and be in health. And may we follow the Lord fully and evermore abide in Him. What a mercy it is that, while we have to give such a distressing description of what backsliding leads to, we can turn to the text and find it written, "I will heal their backsliding"! Consumption, when it once comes to be really consumption, is, beyond all doubt, utterly incurable by ordinary medicine. And, though many remedies may assist the sufferer and prolong life, yet, as a rule, consumption is the herald of death. And so backsliding is quite incurable by any human means, and would be the forerunner of total apostasy were it not for Divine Grace. When a man's heart begins to fall from God--like a stone falling from a tower, it descends at an ever-increasing ratio--and none can call it back again to the place from which it fell. Or stop it in midair, except that Divine Hand which can suspend the laws of gravity, arrest the course of sin, and restore the falling one to his place. "I will heal their backslidings." I understand, then, the glory of this blessing to lie in this--that though backsliding is of all things most dangerous, most defiling and injurious, and in itself most deadly--yet falling into it, you need not despair. On the contrary, if we have fallen into it, listen hopefully to the Voice which says, "Return, O backsliding children," backed up as it is by the promise, "I will heal their backsliding." That we may see this blessing in a still clearer light, let us notice the healing itself. What is the healing of backsliding? It may be said to lie in two things, namely, forgiveness of its sin, and release from its power. That eminent man of God, Bishop Reynolds, who has written upon the last two chapters of Hosea, says there is a fourfold healing of backsliding, and I think he is correct. First, as we have said, backsliding is healed when all the sin of it is forgiven. Dwell on that a minute. You have been a backslider. Perhaps you are so now, but God, even the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, can purge you with hyssop, and you shall be clean! Your leprosy shall depart and your flesh shall become fresh as a little child. "Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord: Though your sins are as scarlet, they shall be white as snow. Though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool." "I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more." "If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and He is the Propitiation for our sins." Oh, the blessedness of this! If sin returns upon you, child of God, that Fountain filled with blood, which washed you once, has by no means lost its power. You may wash again, Backslider. The Mercy Seat is not removed, nor is the permission to approach it revoked. My heart delights to think I may go to Jesus as a sinner, if I cannot as a saint. I want a Savior now as much as ever I did. I want new pardon for new sin. I thank the Master for having taught us to say every day, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Even those who can say, "Our Father which are in Heaven," with a full assurance begotten in them by the filial spirit of Divine Grace, yet have need to ask that sin may be forgiven. We want daily pardon, and we shall have it. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." The next fact of healing is the removal of all the injurious effects which sin has caused. A man does not backslide without feeling a tendency to go further into sin--contamination is sure to ensue. Backsliding deprives a Christian of many of his privileges. It hides the face of Christ. It darkens the Sun of Righteousness, or rather blinds our eyes to His brightness. It robs us of all present joys. It grieves the Holy Spirit and causes Him to withdraw from us in a measure. Now when it is said, "I will heal their backsliding," it means this--"I will take away from them all the pollution which their sin has caused, all the injury which their sin has done to their moral and spiritual nature. I will give back to them all that they lost by giving way to evil." But, "I will heal their backsliding" means thirdly, "I will take away those judgments which I have sent upon them in consequence of their backsliding." The Ephraimites were subject to invasions by cruel tyrants because they had revolted from the Lord, but as soon as they repented, God took away the oppressors and so healed their wounds. Now you, perhaps, dear Brother and Sister, have been a long while under the rod, and you have said, "Lord, when will You comfort me?" Perhaps His answer is, "I will comfort you when you have fully confessed your wanderings, and forsaken your idols." Hear that rod and Him that has appointed it. Many a child of God suffers long series of losses and crosses, the cause of which will be found in the fact that he has not fully turned to the hand that smote him. The Lord will bring His people back. And if one blow does not do it, they shall have another. And if that is not enough, they shall be smitten with many stripes till at last, with weeping and lamentations, they shall return unto the Lord their God. You know not how many temporal griefs would vanish away like smoke before the wind if your heart were but more humble before the Most High. "I will heal their backsliding," that is, "I will take away the temporal chastisement with which I have visited them." Then, again, the fourth kind of healing is the restoration of lost comfort. Instead of the despondency which the Believer feels, when, day and night the hand of God is heavy upon him, he shall yet rejoice in the Lord. God's children always have to smart for sin. If they were ungodly they might sin and enjoy the sweet of their stolen waters. But if they are in very deed the Lord's own people, smart must follow sin. "You only have I known of all the families of the earth: therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities." Hear how David cries out, how hoarse his voice is in that fifty-first Psalm, and all through those seven Penitential Psalms how he dips every verse in the brine of his repentance! He did not find it a profitable or a harmless thing to commit unrighteousness. And so, Brethren, you and I, if we are God's children, will be sure to find that backsliding is a root that bears gall and wormwood. Yet, after his mournful confession and deep soul travail, David received the consolation of God, and his tongue sang aloud of God's righteousness. He said, "Restore unto me the joy of Your salvation." And God did restore it, and the bones which had been broken were made to rejoice. This is conclusive healing of our backsliding--when we receive beauty for ashes, and the oil of joy for mourning. Do not believe, O penitent wanderers, that His mercy is gone forever. He is ever mindful of His Covenant, and He will restore your souls, and lead you in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. My Brothers and Sisters, if the sin is once drowned, your sorrow shall be assuaged. If you remove the cause, the effect shall follow. Did you once leap like David before the ark, or like Miriam dance to the timbrel of triumph? And have your knees grown stiff, and do your hands hang down through sin? May the Lord help you to break off your sin by righteousness, and the weak hands shall be strengthened, and the feeble knees shall be confirmed. Then shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing--for the Lord will again say unto your soul, "I am your salvation." Your Sun may seem to have gone down, but unto you that fear the Lord He shall arise with healing beneath His wings. Only return unto the Lord, and He will restore to you "the years which the locust has eaten," for He has said it, and He will make it good in its fullest extent--"I will heal their backsliding." Now, Brethren, consider the mode in which this backsliding is healed, for that is part of the mercy. It very frequently happens that by Divine Grace the healing of backsliding is brought about in God's Providence by severe afflictions. The previous chapters to this one all go to show how God can act as a lion or a leopard, or as a bear robbed of her whelps, when His people wander into sin. But I shall not dwell on that point, only I would say that the severest trial that ever happens to you, if it brings you to your God, is a surpassing blessing. I would not, and I dare not, pray that the Lord would keep me from all future affliction and pain. "It is good for me that I have been afflicted." "Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept Your word." This is true of all Believers. The Cross is our best earthly heritage. Whenever we imagine that we have won the crown we should remember that it would be an unseasonable mercy, for this is not a palace, but a battlefield. But when we feel the Cross it is a seasonable blessing, suitable for followers of the Crucified. "In the world you shall have tribulation." The connection of the text leads me to remark that our heavenly Father in Christ Jesus heals our backslidings, as a usual rule, by presenting to our minds a fresh sense of His great love. The next sentence seems to say that, "I will love them freely." I never find that my heart is so moved to return unto her rest as when she feels that the Lord has dealt bountifully with her. When I remember that I am still His child, my soul cries, "I will seek again my Father's love." If I believed the doctrine of the final falling of the saints, I fear I should feel no motive urging me to return unto my Lord. I fear I should feel the hardening effect of slavish fear, and like Hagar, flee into the wilderness. If the prodigal son had once suspected that he was disinherited and was no more a child, he would have given up all thoughts of return. And though he confessed that he was not worthy to be called a son, yet he knew he was a son, and so back he came, and his father received him. We are willing to confess that to cast us away would be just, as we are considered in ourselves. But the fact that He has not cast away His people whom He did foreknow draws us with invisible but invincible bonds back to our Lord. Yes, oftentimes the child of God, when he is cold in heart, has been revived and refreshed by some such thoughts as these--"He is still faithful to me, though I am faithless to Him. Jesus bought me with His blood, and He will not lose me. In His Heaven I shall dwell, notwithstanding all this unworthiness of mine. O my Heart, how can you be so like an iceberg to Him when He has loved you despite your innumerable faults? How can you give your eternal Benefactor so base a return?" The great furnace of Christ's love sends out sparks which fall into our hearts, and then they also begin to glow-- "Depth of mercy, can there be Mercy yet reserved for me? Can my God His wrath forbear? Me, the chief of sinners spare?" Does He bid me return to Him, and does He say, "I am married unto you?" "How shall I give you up, Ephraim? How shall I deliver you, Israel? How shall I make you as Admah? How shall I set you as Zeboim?" Oh, then, while God's heart of mercy is moved, our repentings are kindled, our soul melts while our Beloved speaks! Our stony heart is like the rock which gushed with water. The mountains flow down at His Presence! As when the melting fire burns, the fire causes the waters to boil. We feel revenge against sin, and sacred jealousy is aroused. Then we return unto our first Husband, and our first love! With weeping and with supplications we return, and with desire we desire Him in the night-- "Love, mighty love, our soul subdues; We fly into our Savior's arms; Her former vow our heart renews, Ravished afresh with mercy's charms. Love is the cord that draws us home, The bond which holds our spirit fast; Forbids us over again to roam, And captivates us to the last." It sometimes happens that the healing of our backsliding is as sudden as it is gracious. When we awoke this morning we were all startled to find how suddenly the ground had been covered with snow. I should not wonder when we leave this place if we shall be almost as much startled to find how soon the snow has disappeared under the rapid thaw. The Lord who casts forth His ice like morsels can cause His wind to blow so that the waters flow. Have you ever found it so in the little world within? Your heart has been dull and dead, and by a word Jesus has quickened you! "Or ever you were aware, your soul made you like the chariots of Amminadib." Blessed be God, His cures can be worked in a moment! He can raise His children from their graves of backsliding and redeem them from death. Pray that so glorious a work may be worked in you, my dear Brother or Sister. Let me pause awhile to give you space to breathe the prayer-- "Come, Lord, on wings of flaming love, My spirit to upraise; Fly like the lightning from above, And fill my soul with praise." Even if restoration from backsliding be gradual, Brethren, as sometimes it is--and attended with much mourning and much sorrow--yet is the blessing still so choice that no words of mine can ever express its value. And so I leave it with your hearts to do what my lips cannot. III. The third point was to be THE REALIZATION OF THE BLESSING of the text, but our time is gone. Therefore let me hope that you have already obtained it, or will not rest till you have. If you would be savingly and thoroughly revived from backsliding, earnestly desire it. "O Israel, return unto the Lord your God." Set your face towards God. Resolve upon obtaining renewal by His Grace. Then next make a confession of your fault. "You have fallen by your iniquity." Acknowledge your grievous fault and be humbled for it. It is a mark that God is recovering a soul when it is deeply, penitentially, humbled. I have noticed that whenever any who have been excommunicated from this Church have been restored, in every case they have walked in lowliness, and won all our hearts by their contrition and little esteem of themselves. Whenever those who have grievously transgressed apply to be received again, and at the same time complain of the sentence of the Church, and of the conduct of the members, I feel that I dare not advise my Brethren to loose them from the sentence. For if they were really penitent, they would find no fault with others, but with many tears would lament their own shortcomings. It is one mark of Grace when the backslider puts his finger on his mouth as to the fault of his Brethren, feeling, "It is not for me to say a word against any, I am so involved in fault myself, that I dare not throw a stone." If you would have your backsliding healed, be much in prayer. "Take with you words, and turn to the Lord." Backsliding begins in forsaking prayer, and recovery will begin in renewing supplication. If you would be recovered, cast away your false confidence. " Ashur shall not save us. We will not ride upon horses." Turn Mr. Carnal Security out of doors--he is your enemy and God's enemy--be rid of him! Renounce your idols--"We will not say any more to the work of our hands, you are our gods." You cannot recover from backsliding while you love any child or friend inordinately, or while anything stands in your heart before Christ. You will never be right while your money holds an undue position in your minds, or while your position in society is more precious to you than Christ. Away with your idols, or they will cry, "Away with Christ." Either give them up, or give up hope. Lastly, return again by simple faith to God in Christ, remembering that in Him the fatherless find mercy. If you are like an orphan, having none to help or to provide for you, and feel your spiritual destitution, then, in confidence in the abounding Grace of God, return to Him and live. O Brethren, let us all seek to get nearer to Christ! Let us all take the eagle's motto, "Higher, higher, higher." Soar yet beyond. Let us seek to attain what we have not as yet known. And as for the things which remain, let us hold them fast that no man take our crown. "What we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us mind the same thing." Let us not decline from our first love, but rather, "not as though we had already attained, either were already perfect," let us forget the things which are behind, and press forward to that which is before, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith. The Lord bless His Church richly, and send His dew upon Israel. And make us all to grow in Divine Grace and the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. For His name's sake we ask and expect it. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Nathanael And The Fig Tree (No. 921) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MARCH 20, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found Him of whom Moses in the Law, and also the Prophets, wrote; Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. And Nathanael said to him, 'Can anything good come out of Nazareth?'Philip said to him, 'Come and see.' Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward Him, and said of him, 'Behold, an Israelite, indeed, in whom is no deceit!' Nathanael said to Him, 'How do You know me?' Jesus answered and said to him, 'Before Philip calledyou, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.'Nathanael answered and said to Him, 'Rabbi, You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!' Jesus answered and said to him, 'Because I said to you, 'I saw you under the fig tree,' do you believe? You will see greater things than these.' And He said to him, 'Most assuredly, I say to you, hereafter you shall see Heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." John 1:45-51. VERY often we address the Gospel to the chief of sinners. We believe it to be our duty to do this with the greatest frequency. For did not our Lord, when bidding His disciples to preach the Good News in every place, use the words, "beginning at Jerusalem"? Where the chief of sinners lived, there was the Gospel first to be preached. But at the same time it would show great lack of observation if we regarded all mankind as being equally gross, open offenders against God. It would not only show a want of wisdom, but it would involve a want of truthfulness. For though all have sinned, and deserve the wrath of God, yet all unconverted men are not precisely in the same condition of mind in reference to the Gospel. In the parable of the sower we are taught that before the good seed fell upon the field at all, there was a difference in the various soils. Some of it was stony ground, another part was thorny, a third was trodden hard like a highway, while another plot is described by our Lord as "honest and good ground." Although in every case the carnal mind is enmity against God, yet are there influences at work which in many cases have mitigated, if not subdued, that enmity. While many took up stones to kill our Lord, there were others who heard Him gladly. While to this day thousands reject the Gospel, there are others who receive the Word with joy. These differences we ascribe to God's prevenient Grace. We believe, however, that the subject of these differences is not aware that Grace is at work upon him--neither is it precisely Grace in the same form as saving Grace--for the soul under its power has not yet learned its own need of Christ, or the excellency of His salvation. There is such a thing as a preparatory work of mercy on the soul, making it ready for the yet higher work of Grace, even as the plowing comes before the sowing. We read in the narrative of the creation that before the Divine voice said, "Let there be light," darkness was upon the face of the deep, yet it is added, "The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." Even so in the darkness of human nature, whereas yet no ray of living light has shone, the Spirit of God may be moving with secret energy, making the soul ready for the hour when the true light shall shine. I believe that in our congregations there are many persons who have been mercifully restrained from the grosser vices. They exhibit everything that is pure and excellent in moral character--they are persons who are not maliciously opposed to the Gospel and are ready enough to receive it if they did but understand it. They are even anxious to be saved by Jesus Christ, and have a reverence for His name, though as yet it is an ignorant reverence. They know so little of the Redeemer that they are not able to find rest in Him. This slenderness of knowledge is the only thing that holds them back from faith in Him. They are willing enough to obey if they understood the command. If they had but a clear apprehension of our Lord's Person and work, they would cheerfully accept Him as their Lord and Savior. I have great hopes that the Lord of Love may guide the Word which is now to be spoken so that it may find out such persons, and may make manifest the Lord's secretly chosen ones--those prisoners of hope who pine for liberty--but know not that the Son can make them free. O captive Soul, abhorring the chains of sin, your day of liberty is come! The Lord, the Liberator who looses the prisoners, is come at this very hour to snap your bonds! I. In dwelling on this narrative, I shall first say a few words concerning NATHANAEL HIMSELF. We are told that he was a guileless man, "an Israelite, indeed, in whom is no guile." That is to say, like Jacob, "he was a plain man," and not like Esau, "a cunning hunter." Some minds are naturally serpentine, tortuous, slippery. They cannot think except in curves--their motives are involved and intricate, and they are of a double heart. These are the men who look one way and row the other. They worship the god Janus with two faces, and are of the same practice, if not of the same persuasion as the Jesuits. They cannot speak a thing plainly or look you in the face while they talk, for they are full of mental reservations and prudential cautions. They guard their speech. They dare not send abroad their own thoughts till they have mailed them up to the throat with double meanings. Nathanael was just the very opposite of all this. He was no hypocrite and no crafty deceiver. He wore his heart upon his sleeve. If he spoke, you might know that he said what he meant and that he meant what he said. He was a childlike, simple-hearted man, transparent as glass. He was not one of those fools who believe everything. But on the other hand, he was not of that other sort of fools so much admired in these days who will believe nothing, but who find it necessary to doubt the most self-evident Truth in order to maintain their credit for profound philosophy. These "thinkers" of this enlightened age are great at quibbles, mighty in feigning or feeling mistrust concerning matters which common sense has no doubts about. They will profess to doubt whether there is a God, though that is as plain as the sun at noonday. No, Nathanael was neither credulous nor mistrustful. He was honestly ready to yield to the force of Truth. He was willing to receive testimony and to be swayed by evidence. He was not suspicious, because he was not a man who, himself, would be suspected. He was true-hearted and straightforward--a plain dealer and plain speaker. Cana had not within her gates a more thoroughly honest man. Philip seems to have known this, for he went to him directly, as to a man who was likely to be convinced and worth winning to the good cause. In addition to being thus a simple-hearted man, Nathanael was an earnest seeker. Philip went to him because he felt that the good news would interest him. "We have found the Messiah," would be no gladsome news to anyone who had not looked for the Messiah. Nathanael had been expecting the Christ, and perhaps had so well understood Moses and the Prophets that he had been led to look for His speedy coming. The time when Messiah would suddenly come in His temple had certainly arrived, and he was day and night with prayer, like all the faithful of the ten tribes, watching and waiting for the appearing of their salvation. He had not as yet heard that the Glory of Israel had, indeed, come, but he was on the very edge of expectation. What a hopeful state of heart is yours, my dear Hearer, if you are now honestly desirous to know the Truth, and intensely anxious to be saved by it! It is well, indeed, for you if your soul is ready, like the photographer's sensitive plate, to receive the impression of the Divine Light--if you are anxiously desiring to be informed if there is, indeed, a Savior--if there is a Gospel, if there is hope for you, if there is such a thing as purity and a way to reach it. It is well, I say, if you are anxiously and earnestly desiring to know how and when, and where--and determinately resolved, by God's Grace, that no exertion shall be spared on your part to run in the way that shall be marked out, and to submit yourself unto the will of God. This was the state of Nathanael, an honest-hearted lover of plain truth, seeking to find the Christ. It is also true that he was ignorant up to a certain point. He was not ignorant of Moses and the Prophets, these he had well considered. But he knew not that Christ as yet had come. There was some little distance between Nazareth and Cana, and the news of the Messiah's coming had not traveled there. If it had been bad news, it would have flown on eagles' wings, but being good news its flight was slower, for few persons are so anxious to tell out the good as the evil. He had not, therefore, heard of Jesus of Nazareth till Philip came to him. And how many there are even in this country who do not know yet what the Gospel means, but are anxious to know it, and if they did but know it would receive it? "What?" you say, "where there are so many places of worship and so many ministers?" Yes, just that. Yes, and in the very heart of our congregations and in the midst of our godly families, ignorance has its strongholds. These uninstructed ones may be Bible readers, they may be Gospel hearers, but as yet they may not have been able to grasp the great Truth that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself. They may never have seen what it is for Christ to stand in the sinner's place, and for that sinner, by an act of trust, to obtain the blessings which spring out of a substitutionary sacrifice. Yes, and here in this house where I have tried and labored to put the Gospel in short Saxon words and sentences that cannot be misunderstood, there may be some who are still saying, "What is this all about? I hear much of believing, but what is it? Who is this Christ, the Son of God, and what is it to be saved from sin, to be regenerated, to be sanctified? What are all these things?" Well, dear Friend, I am sorry you should be in the dark, yet am I glad at heart, that though you do not know what I would have you know, yet you are simple-hearted, truth-loving, and sincere in your seeking. I am persuaded that light will not be denied you, you shall yet know Jesus and be known of Him. In addition to this, however, Nathanael was prejudiced--we must modify that expression--he was somewhat prejudiced. As soon as Philip told him that he had found Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph, Nathanael said, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Here let us remark that his prejudice is exceedingly excusable, for it arose out of the faulty testimony of Philip. Philip was a young convert. He had only found Jesus the day before, and the natural instinct of every truly gracious soul is to try and tell out the blessed things of Christ. So away went Philip to tell his friend, Nathanael. But what a many blunders he made in the telling out of the Gospel! I bless God, blundering as it was, it was enough to bring Nathanael to Christ. But it was full of mistakes. Dear Souls, if you know only a little about Christ, and if you would make a great many mistakes in telling out that little, yet do not hold it in--God will overlook the errors and bless the Truth. Now observe what Philip said. He said, "We have found Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph," which was our Lord's popular name, but was in no way correct. He was not Jesus of Nazareth at all. He was not a native of Nazareth--our Lord was of Bethlehem. He had dwelt at Nazareth, certainly, but He was no more entitled to be called of Nazareth than of Jerusalem. Then Philip said, "Son of Joseph," but He was only the reputed son of Joseph, He was in truth, the Son of the Highest. Philip gave to our Lord the common and erroneous titles which the unthinking many passed from hand to hand. He did not say, "We have found the Son of God," or "the Son of David," but yet he uttered all he knew--and that is all God expects of you or me. Oh, what a mercy it is that the imperfections of our ministry do not prevent God's saving souls by us! If it were not so, how little good would be done in the world! Mr. John Wesley preached most earnestly one view of the Gospel, and William Huntingdon preached quite another view of it. The two men would have had a holy horror of each other and censured each other most conscientiously. Yet no rational man dares say that souls were not saved under John Wesley, or under William Huntingdon either, for God blessed them both. Both ministers were faulty, but both were sincere--and both made useful. So is it with all our testimonies. They are all imperfect, full of exaggerations of one Truth, and misapprehensions of another. But as long as we witness to the true Christ foretold by Moses and the Prophets our mistakes shall be forgiven, and God will bless our ministry, despite every flaw. So He did with Nathanael--but Nathanael's prejudice rose out of Philip's blundering way of talking. If Philip had not said, "of Nazareth," then Nathanael would not have said, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" If Philip had said that Jesus was of Bethlehem, and of the tribe of Judah, and that God was His Father, then this prejudice would never have beclouded the mind of Nathanael, and it would have been easier for him to have acknowledged Jesus as the Messiah. We must, therefore, try to avoid mistakes, lest we cause needless prejudice. We should so state the Gospel that if men are offended by it, it shall be the Gospel which offends them, and not our way of putting it. It may be that you, my Friend, are a little prejudiced against Christ's holy Gospel because of the imperfect character of a religious acquaintance, or the rough manners of a certain minister. But I trust you will not allow such things to bias you. I hope that, being candid and honest, you will come and see Jesus for yourself. Revise the report of the disciple by a personal inspection of the Master. Philip made up for his faults when he added, "Come and see." And I would try to prevent mine from injuring you by using the same exhortation-- "Come and see Jesus and His Gospel for yourself." One other mark of Nathanael I would mention. He was in all respects a godly, sincere man, up to the measure of his light. He was not yet a Believer in Jesus, but still he was an Israelite, indeed. He was a man of secret prayer, he did not mock God as the Pharisees did by mere outward worship. He was a worshipper of God in his heart. His soul had private dealings with the God of Heaven when no eye saw him. So it is, I trust, with you, dear Hearer. You may not yet have found peace, but you do pray, you are desirous of being saved. You do not wish to be a hypocrite. You dread, above all things, falling into formality. You pray that if ever you become a Christian you may be a Christian, indeed. Such is the character I am endeavoring to find out, and if it is your character, may you get the blessing that Nathanael did. II. Now secondly, we have seen Nathanael, let us for a moment consider NATHANAEL'S SIGHT OF JESUS. "Philip says unto him, Come and see." And so Nathanael came to see the Savior, which implies that although he was somewhat prejudiced against this new Messiah, yet he was candid enough to investigate His claims. Beloved Friend to whom I have already spoken, if you have any prejudice against the true Gospel of Jesus Christ, whether it is occasioned by your birth and education, or previous profession of some other faith, be honest enough to give the Gospel of Jesus Christ a fair hearing. You may hear it in this House of Prayer. You may read it in these pages. Do not dismiss it until you have thoroughly examined it. All that we would ask of you is now--knowing you to be honest, knowing you to be earnest-- seriously sit down and weigh the Doctrines of Grace as you shall find them in the Scripture. And especially the life of Christ and the blessings which He brings to those who believe in Him. Look these things over carefully. They will commend themselves to your conscience, for God has already prepared your conscience to judge righteously. And as you judge you will perceive a peculiar beauty and a charm about the Truths of the Gospel which will surely win your heart. Latimer had preached a sermon against the doctrines of the Gospel, and among his hearers there was a holy man who afterwards became a martyr. He thought, as he listened to Latimer, that he perceived something in his tone which showed him to be an honest opponent. Therefore he hoped that if light were brought to him he would be willing to see by it. He sought him out, obtained an interview with him, and his explanations entirely won honest Hugh to the Reformed opinions--and you know what a valiant and popular minister of the New Covenant Latimer became. So, my honest Friend, give to the Gospel of salvation by faith in the precious blood of Jesus a fair hearing, and we are not afraid of the result. Nathanael came to Christ, again, with great activity of heart. As soon as he was told to, "come and see," he did come and see. He did not sit still and say, "Well, if there is any light in this new doctrine, it will come to me." No, he went to it. Do not believe in any teaching which bids men sit down and find peace in the idea that they need not strive to enter in at the strait gate of Truth. No, Brethren, if Grace has ever come to you, it will arouse you from lethargy and lead you to go to Christ. And by His Grace you will be most earnest, with all the activity of your spirit, to search for Him as for hidden treasure. It is a delightful thing to see a soul on the wing. The majority of our population are, as regards religion, down on the ground and unwilling to rise. They are indifferent to spiritual Truth. You cannot get them to give earnest heed to eternal matters. But once get a mind on the wing with a holy earnestness and solemn thoughtfulness, and we do believe, with God's Grace, that it will, before long, be brought to a saving faith in Christ. "Come and see," said Philip, and come and see Nathanael did. He does not appear to have expected to be converted to Christ by what he saw with his natural eyes--his judgment was formed from a mental view of Him. It is true he saw the Person of the Messiah, but he did not expect to see in the human form any lineaments that might guide his judgment. He waited until the lips of the Messiah had spoken, and then, when he had seen the Omniscience of that mysterious Person, and how He could read his thoughts and spy out his secret actions, then he believed. Now I fear some of you live in darkness because you are expecting some kind of physical manifestation. You hope for a vivid dream, or some strange feeling in your flesh, or some very remarkable occurrence in your family. Except you see signs and wonders you will not believe. But a saving sight of Christ is another matter! Truth must impress your mental faculties, enlighten your understanding, and win your affections. The Presence of Christ on earth is a spiritual one, and you will come to see Him not with these mortal optics just now, but with the eyes of your soul. You will perceive the beauty of His Character, the majesty of His Person, the all-sufficiency of His Atonement. And as you see these things the Holy Spirit will lead you to believe in Him and live. I pray God that such a sight as this may be vouchsafed to every honest seeker who may hear or read these words. III. A far greater matter now demands our attention--CHRIST'S SIGHT OF NATHANAEL. As soon as Jesus saw the man, He said, "Behold an Israelite, indeed," which shows us that Christ Jesus read Nathanael's heart. I do not suppose that our Lord had ever seen Nathanael with His own human eyes. But yet He understood Nathanael's character-- not because He was a great judge of physiognomy and could perceive at once that He had a simple-hearted man before Him. But because He was Nathanael's Creator, being the searcher of hearts and the trier of the reins, He could read Na-thanael as readily as a man reads a book which is open before his eyes. He saw at once all that was within the enquirer, and pronounced a verdict upon him that he was free from falsehood. And then to prove to Nathanael still further how clearly He knew all about him, He mentioned a little incident which I cannot explain, nor can you, nor do I suppose anybody could have explained it except Nathanael and Jesus--a special secret known only to them both. He said to him, "Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you." What he was doing under the fig tree we may guess, but we cannot know to a certainty. Perhaps it would be true of all to believe that the fig tree was to Nathanael what the Hermonites and the hill Mizar had been to David. David says, "I will remember You from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, and from the hill Mizar." What were those sacred recollections he does not tell us, and although we can form a shrewd guess, David and his God, alone, knew the full mystery. So between Christ and Nathanael there was a common knowledge connected with that fig tree which we cannot hope to discover. And the moment our Lord mentioned that hallowed spot, its remembrances were to Nathanael so secret and so sacred that he felt that the Omniscient One was before him. Here was evidence which he could not doubt for an instant, for one of the most private and special secrets of his life, which he had never whispered into any human ear, had been brought up as by a talismanic sign. A red-letter day in his private diary had been revived by the mention of the fig tree, and He who could touch so hidden a spring in his soul must be the Son of God. But what was Nathanael doing under the fig tree, according to our best surmise? Well, as devout Easterns are accustomed to have a special place for prayer, this may have been a shadowy fig tree under which Nathanael was accustomed to offer his devotions. And perhaps just before Philip came to him, he may have been engaged in personal and solitary confession of sin. He had looked round the garden and fastened the gate that none might come in--and he had poured into the ear of his God some very tender confession under the fig tree shade. When Christ said to him, "When you were under the fig tree," it brought to his recollection how he poured out his broken and his contrite spirit, and confessed sins unknown to all but God. That confession, it may be, the very look of Christ brought back to his remembrance and the words and look together seemed to say, "I know your secret burden, and the peace you found in rolling it upon the Lord." He felt, therefore, that Jesus must be Israel's God. It is very possible that in addition to his confession, he had under the fig tree made a deliberate investigation of his own heart. Good men generally mingle with their confessions self-examination. There it may be that this man who was free from guile had looked into the tendencies of his nature and had been enabled with holy surprise to see the fountains of the great deep of his natural depravity. He may have been taken, like Ezekiel, from chamber to chamber to see the idols in his heart, beholding greater abominations than he suspected to be there--and there humbled before the Lord. Beneath that fig tree he may have cried with Job, "I abhor myself in dust and ashes." This, also, Jesus had seen. Or under the fig tree he may have been engaged in very earnest prayer. Was that fig tree to Nathanael what Peniel was to Jacob, a spot where he had wrestled till the break of day, pleading with God to fulfill His ancient promise, to send the Promised One who should be a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of His people, Israel? Was it so? We think it probable. That fig tree had been to him a Bethel, no other than the House of God and the very gate of Heaven. And what if we should suggest that, perhaps in addition to his prayer, Nathanael had vowed some solemn vow under the fig tree--if the Lord would but appear and give to him some sign and token for good, then he would be the Lord's and spend and be spent for Him? If the Lord would but send the Messiah, he would be among His first followers. If he would but speak to him by an angel or otherwise, he would obey the voice. Jesus now tells him that he shall see angels ascending and descending. And reveals Himself as the Messiah to Whom he had solemnly pledged himself. It may he so. Once more, it may be that under that fig tree he had enjoyed the sweetest communion with his God. Beloved Friends, do you not remember well, certain hallowed spots? I have one or two in my own life too sacred to mention. If my memory should forget all the world besides, yet those spots will evermore be green in my memory--the truly holy place where Jesus, my Lord, has met with me and showed me His love. One time it was "the King has brought me into His chambers." Another time I got me to "the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense." Once He said, "Come, My Beloved, let us go forth into the field. And let us lodge in the villages," and another time He changed the scene and said, "Come with Me from Lebanon, My Spouse. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Hermon, from the lions dens, from the mountains of the leopards." Have we not sometimes had special festivals when He has broached the spiced wine of His pomegranate? When our joy has been almost too much for the frail body to endure, for our joyous spirit, like a sharp sword, has well-near cut through its scabbard? Ah, it is sweetly true. He has baptized us in the fire of His love, and we shall forever remember those secret spots, those dear occasions. This, then, was a token, a secret token between Christ and Nathanael, by which the disciple recognized his Divine Friend and future Master and Lord. He had met the Messiah in spirit before, and now he meets Him in very flesh and blood. And by this token does he know Him. In spirit the Lord set His seal upon Nathan-ael's heart, and now, by the sacred signet, the Israelite discerns his King. Thus we see the Lord had seen Nathanael in his previous engagements, before he became actually a Believer in Jesus. This fact suggests that each of you who have been sincerely seeking to be set right, and to know the Truth, have been fully perceived in all your seeking and desires by the God of Grace. When you let fall a tear because you could not understand the Word, Jesus saw that tear. When you groaned because you could not get satisfaction of heart, He heard that groan. Never true heart seeks Christ without Christ's being well aware of it. Well may He know of it, for every motion of a trembling heart towards Himself is caused by His own love. He is drawing you, though you perceive not the hands of a man which encircle you. He is the hidden loadstone by which your heart is moved. I know it is night with you, and you grope like a blind man for the wall. But if your heart says, "O that I could but embrace Him! O that He were mine! If I could but find rest in Him, I would give all that I have." Then be assured that Jesus is close to you--your prayers are in His ear, your tears fall upon His heart. He knows all about your difficulties, all about your doubts and fears, and He sympathizes in the whole--and in due time He will break your snares, and you shall yet, with joy, draw water out of the wells of salvation. This Truth is full of consolation to all who seek with sincerity, though as yet in the dark. Before the minister's voice spoke to you--when you were under the fig tree, when you were by the bedside, when you were in that inner chamber, when you were down in that saw pit, when you were in the hayloft, when you were walking behind the hedge in the field--Jesus saw you. He knew your desires, He read your longings, He saw you through and through. Even from of old He has known you. IV. So we have seen Nathanael's sight of Christ, and then Christ's sight of Nathanael. Now the fourth thing is, NA-THANAEL'S FAITH. I must go over much the same ground again under this head. Nathanael's faith--note what it was grounded on. He cheerfully accepted Jesus as the Messiah, and the ground of his acceptance lay in this--Jesus had mentioned to him a peculiar incident in his life which he was persuaded no one could have known but the Omniscient God. He concluded, therefore, Jesus to be the Omniscient God, and accepted Him at once as his King. This was very frequently the way in which persons were brought to confidence in Christ. The same thing is recorded in this very Gospel a few chapters further on. The Lord sat down on the well and talked to the Samaritan woman, and there was no kind of impression produced upon her until He said, "You have had five husbands, and he whom you now have is not your husband." Then it flashed upon her, "This stranger knows my private history! Then He is something more than He appears to be. He is the Great Prophet." And away she ran with this on her tongue, because it was in her heart, "Come, see a man which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?" The same was the case with Zaccheus. You may think, however, that this mode of conversion was confined to the days of our Lord's flesh, and the age of miracles, but it is not so. The fact is that at this very day the discovery of the thoughts of men's hearts by the Gospel is still a very potent means in the hands of the Holy Spirit of convincing them of the Truth of the Gospel. How often have I heard enquirers say, "It seemed to me, Sir, as if that sermon was meant for me. There were points in it which were so exactly like myself, that I felt sure someone had told the preacher about me. And there were words and sentences so peculiarly descriptive of my private thoughts, that I was sure no one but God knew of them. I perceived that God was in the Gospel speaking to my soul." Yes, and it always will be so. The is the great revealer of secrets. It is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Jesus Christ in the Gospel knows all about your sins, all about your seeking, all about the difficulties which you are meeting with. This ought to convince you that the Gospel is Divine, since its teachings lay bare the heart, and its remedies touch every spiritual disease. The knowledge of human nature displayed in the simplest passage of the Gospel is more profound than the productions of Plato or Socrates. The Gospel, like a silken thread, runs through all the windings and twisting of human nature in its fallen state. O that its voice may come home personally to you! May it, by the Spirit, convict you of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment--and bring you to lay hold on eternal life! Nathanael's faith, it must be mentioned, was peculiar not only in its ground, but in its clear and comprehensive character. He accepted Jesus at once as the Son of God. He was Divine to him, and he adored Him. He also accepted Him as the King of Israel. He was a royal personage to him, and he tendered Him his homage. May you and I receive Jesus Christ in this way, as a real Man, but yet certainly God--a Man who was despised and rejected, but yet the Man anointed above His Brethren--who is King of kings and Lord of lords. I admire Nathanael's faith, again, because it was so quick, unreserved, and decisive. "You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" Christ was glorified by the decision, the quickness of this faith. Delay in believing Him dishonors Him. O honest Heart, O sincere Mind, pray that you may as quickly come into the light and liberty of true belief! May the Holy Spirit work in you a ready satisfaction in the atoning sacrifice and Divine Person of the ever blessed Immanuel. V. This brings us to the last point of consideration. We have shown you Nathanael and his sight of Christ, and Christ's sight of him. And then the faith that Nathanael received. Now notice NATHANAEL'S AFTER-SIGHT. Some persons want to see all that there is in Christianity before they can believe in Jesus, that is to say, before they will go to the primary school they must clamor for a degree at the university. Many want to know the ninth of Romans before they have read the third of John. They are all for understanding great mysteries before they understand that primary simplicity, "Believe and live." But those who are wiser and, like Nathanael, are content to believe at first what they are able to perceive, namely, that Christ is the Son of God and the King of Israel, shall go on to learn more. Let us read our Lord's words, "You shall see greater things than these. Verily, verily, I say unto you, hereafter shall you see Heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." To full grown disciples Jesus promises, "Greater things than these shall you do." To young converts He says, "Greater things than these shall you see." He gives promises in proportion to our ability to receive them. The promise given to Nathanael was a most fitting one. He was all Israelite, indeed--then he shall have Israel's vision. What was the great sight that Israel or Jacob saw? He saw the ladder whereon angels ascended and descended. Precisely this shall Nathanael see. He shall see Jesus Christ as the communication between an opened Heaven and a blessed earth--and he shall see the angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man! If you bear the character of Israel, you shall enjoy the privileges of Israel. If you are an Israelite, indeed, you shall have the blessing that made Israel glad. Nathanael had owned Jesus as the Son of God--here he is told that he shall see Him in His glory as the Son of Man. Note that last word of the chapter. It is not so much that Christ humbly called Himself the Son of Man--though that is true--but that to see the glory of Christ as God is a simple thing. To see and understand the glory of Christ as Man, this is a sight for faith, and probably a sight which, so far as our senses are concerned, is reserved for the day of His coming. When He shall appear--the very Man that suffered upon Calvary--when He shall appear upon the Great White Throne to judge the quick and the dead, if you believe in Jesus as the Son of God, you shall yet see Him in His glory as Man swaying the universal scepter, and enthroned as King of all the earth. He had called Jesus the King of Israel, if you remember. Now he is to see his Lord as the King of the angels--to see the angels of God ascending and descending upon Him. Believe, my dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ, as far as you know Him, and you shall know more of Him. Open your eyes but to the candle light of the Law, and you shall soon behold the sunlight of the Gospel. The Lord is very gracious to fulfill the Gospel rule, "To him that has, shall be given, and he shall have abundance." If you acknowledge the King of Israel, you shall see Him as the Lord of Hosts before whom archangels veil their faces, and to Whom seraphim are servitors. The great sight, I suppose, Nathanael saw as the result of his faith was not the transfiguration, nor the ascension as some suppose, but a spiritual view of Christ in His mediatorial capacity as the great link between earth and Heaven. This is, indeed, a sight transcending all others. We are not divided from the invisible. We are not separated from the infinite. The mortal has communion with the Immortal. The sinner speaks with the Holy One--prayers climb up to Heaven, and benedictions descend by way of the Great Substitute. Can you see this, O Soul? If so, the sight will make you glad. You are not exiled now, you are only at the foot of the stairs which lead to the upper chamber of your Father's House. Your God is above and bright spirits traverse constantly the open gangway of the Mediator's Person. Here is joy for all the saints--for this ladder can never be broken--our communion is abiding. No doubt, to Nathanael's view, the promise would be fulfilled as he perceived the Providence of God as ruled by Christ Jesus who orders all things for the good of the Church. Was not this intended in the figure of angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man, that is, all agencies, whether living or material, all subject to the Law and the dominion of Christ? So that all things work together for good to them that love God! Do not go fretting to your homes and say, "Here are new doctrines springing up, and new gods that our fathers knew not, and ministers are slipping aside from the faith, and bad days have fallen upon the Church, and Romanism is coming up, and infidelity with it." All this may be true-- but it does not matter one fig--for God has a great end in view. He has a bit for the mouth of leviathan. He can do as He wills with His most powerful enemies. He rides upon the wings of cherubs and rules the storm. The clouds are but the dust of His feet. Never believe that Providence is out of joint. The wheels of this great engine may revolve some this way and some that, but the sure result will be produced, for the great Artist sees the final result to be secure. God's glory shall arise from it all! Angels descend, but they as much do the will of God as those which ascend. Some events seem disastrous, and even calamitous. But they shall all, in the end, prove to be for the best. For he -- "From seeming evil still educes good,'" And better still, and better still--in infinite progression. Until the crown shall come upon the head of Him who was separated from His Brethren, and all the glory shall roll in waves of mighty song at the foot of His Throne, may you and I continue to see this great sight more and more clearly. Until the Lord shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the trump of the archangel, and the voice of God, and once and for all we shall see Heaven and earth blended, may we continue to see angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man. All this matchless glory will come to us through that little window by which we first saw the Savior. If we will not see Him as our Lord until we can see all the future, we shall perish in darkness. If you will not believe, neither shall you be established. But if, with simple and true hearts you have been seeking Jesus, and now come and accept Him as the Lord, the King of Israel--then greater things than these shall be in store for you! Your eyes shall see the King in His beauty and the land that is very far off. And the day of His pompous appearing, when Heaven and earth shall hang out their streamers for overflowing joy because the King has come unto His own. And the day the crown is put upon the head of the Son of David--then shall you see it and see it all--for you shall be with Him where He is, that you may behold His glory, the glory which the Father gave Him before the foundation of the world. Come Lord Jesus! Come quickly! __________________________________________________________________ Sincerity And Duplicity (No. 922) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, MARCH 6, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Hereby we do know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments. He that says, I know Him, and keeps not His commandments, is a liar, and the Truth is not in him." 1 John 2:3,4. THE Epistles of John possess and combine certain qualities which seem, at the first blush, to stand opposite as the poles to one another. Their style of expression is simple, chaste, and unadorned. Short words are used. For the most part words of one syllable--such little homely words as a young child might easily spell. And the sense is so clear and obvious, that the captious critic or the astute reasoner must be puzzled to distort it. Yet there is no lack of dignity in the language, and as for the matter of these Epistles, it is grand and sublime. Where would you turn in the pages of the New Testament, save only to the book of the Revelation, given by the pen of the same writer, for more notable mystery? The language charms our ears, while the Truth it expresses holds us in awe. There are deep meanings and veiled mysteries here. Albeit the hidden wisdom which baffles finite thought is not couched in strange terms, but declared in such plain speech as trips lightly off the tongue, and yet sinks deeply into the heart. Again, the spirit of John is love, all love. Every line he writes is perfumed with charity. And yet to what close self-examination, to what a severe testing does he put us! How truly may it be said that these Epistles are a touchstone by which we may discern between the true gold and the counterfeit! Generous but discriminating, glowing with affection but rigid in fidelity, the Apostle mingles caution with caress, and qualifies the most soothing consolations with such stern warnings, that in well-near every sentence he constrains us to deep searching of heart. The text is a case in point. With a wise discrimination he draws a contrast between him who knows that he knows Christ, and him who says that he knows Christ. The one he acknowledges, but the other he brands with that hard word, that ignominious title, "a liar," and sends him away as unworthy of further consideration. Not only in this case, but all through his Epistles, John continues to unravel the tangled web of hypocrisy. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes and seem like Truth! To show the diverging point between facts and sayings, between realities and professions, between those who have, and those who only say that they have, was his constant aim. It may interest you just to open your Bibles and turn to one or two of the passages that illustrate this. In his first chapter, at the sixth verse, he has been speaking of those who walk in the light and have fellowship with God, and he adds, "If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth." Then in the text he speaks of those who know Christ, and he adds, "He that says, I know Him, and keeps not His commandments, is a liar, and the Truth is not in him." And further on, in the ninth verse, speaking of those who have the light, he says, "He that says he is in the light, and hates his brother, is in darkness even until now." Not to multiply the instances, there is a notable one in the fourth chapter, at the twentieth verse, "If a man says I love God, and hates his brother, he is a liar: for he that loves not his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God Whom he has not seen?" So to have a thing, or to boast that you have it--to be, or to pretend to be such-and-such a character--are as opposite as white and black, as light and darkness. Indeed, we scarcely need Revelation to tell us this, for it is so in things secular, and it must be certainly applicable to religion. We meet in common life with persons who say that they are rich, but this does not make them so. They apply for credit and say that they are wealthy when they are worth nothing. Companies will ask for your money with which they may speculate, and they say that they are sound, but they are oftentimes found to be rotten. Though some of them make a very fair show in the prospectus, the result appears very foul in the winding-up of the association. Persons have been known to say that they were of distinguished rank, but when they have had to prove their title before the House of Lords, oftentimes has it been discovered that they have made a mistake. Lunatics in Bethlehem Hospi- tal, near here, have been found by scores to say that they were kings or queens. In the old houses, where madmen were confined, it often happened that some poor creature twisted a crown of straw, put it on his head, and said that he was a monarch. But that did not make him so. No armies arose at his bidding. No fleets crossed the ocean to do his will. No tribute was brought to his feet. He remained a poor pauper madman still, though he said that he was a king. Many a time you have found the difference, in your commercial transactions, between blank saying and positive truth. A man has said that he would meet that bill, or that he would discharge that debt. He has said that the rent should be paid when it was due. He has said a thousand things--and you have found out that it was easy enough for him to say, but it was not quite so easy for you to obtain the doing of it. And when the engagement has been turned to writing, registered, and made as fast as black and white can make it, you have not found it thoroughly reliable, for to say by subscribing a contract or covenant does not always make it certain that a man will fulfill it. To say is not necessarily a pledge of good faith, or a warrant against treachery. Rest assured, then, that if in these temporal matters to say is not the same thing as to be or to do, neither is it so in spiritual things. A minister may say that he is sent of God, and yet be a wolf in sheep's clothing. A man may say that he unites himself to the Church of God, but he may be no better than a hypocrite and an alien who has no part in her fellowship. We may say that we pray, and yet never a prayer may come from our hearts. We may say to our fellow men that we are Christians, and yet we may never have been born again--never have obtained the precious faith of God's elect-- never have been washed in the blood of Jesus Christ. And, Sirs, as you would not be satisfied with merely saying that you are rich. As you want the title-deeds of the broad acres. As you want to hear the coins chink in your box. As you want the real thing, and not the mere saying of it-- so, I pray you, be not put off with the mere profession of religion. Be not content with a bare assertion, or think that is enough. Seek to have your own profession verified by the witness of Heaven, as well as by that of your own conscience. It is not written, "He that says he believes shall be saved." But "he that believes and is baptized shall be saved." It is not said that he who says he has confessed shall be forgiven. But "He that confesses and forsakes his sins shall find mercy." Your mere sayers, though they say, "Lord, open to us," and aver that Christ did eat in their streets, shall have for an answer, "I never knew you! Depart from Me, you workers of iniquity." Let us not be gulled and deceived. Let us not be duped and taken in by any notion that saying so makes it so! Take heed, lest with a flattering tongue you do impose on your own soul. Standing in view of that Eye which penetrates the inmost heart, may we learn to distinguish between the mere profession and the full possession of real Grace and vital godliness. The matter in hand tonight, in which this distinction is to be made, is the knowing of Christ. Let us speak first about what it is to know Him, then about knowing that we know Him. And after that, solemnly expostulate with those who merely say that they know Him. I. The matter to be considered and judged tonight by each man for himself is THE KNOWING OF CHRIST. What, then, is it to know Christ? Of course we have never seen Him. Many years ago He left this world and ascended to His Father. Still we can know Him. It is possible. There have been thousands, and even millions, who have had a personal acquaintance with Him, Whom, though they have not seen, they loved, and in Whom they have rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory. To "know" is a word used in Scripture in several senses. Sometimes it means to acknowledge. As when we read of a certain Pharaoh, that "he knew not Joseph." That is, he did not acknowledge any obligation of the state or kingdom to Joseph. He remembered not what had been done by that great man. So, too, Christ says that His sheep "know" His voice. They acknowledge His voice as being the voice of their Shepherd, and cheerfully follow where their Shepherd leads. Now, it is a matter of the first necessity to acknowledge Christ--that He is God, that He is the Son of the Father, that He is the Savior of His people, and the rightful Monarch of the world--to acknowledge more--that you accept Him as your Savior, as your King, as your Prophet, as your Priest. This is, in a certain sense, to know Christ. That is, to own and confess in your heart that He is God, in the glory of God the Father. That He is your Redeemer. That His blood has washed you, and His righteousness covers you. That He is your salvation, your only hope, and your fondest desire. The word "know" means, in the next place, to believe. As in that passage, "By His knowledge shall My righteous Servant justify many"--where it is evidently meant that by the knowledge of Him, that is to say, by faith in Christ Jesus, He would justify many. To "know" and to "believe" are sometimes used in Scripture as convertible terms. Now, in this sense we must know Christ. We must believe Him, we must trust Him, we must accept the reports of the Prophets and Apostles respecting Him. And we must subscribe to them, practically, with all our heart, and soul, and strength, and lean the whole burden of our everlasting destiny upon His finished work. To know Him, then, is to acknowledge Him, and to believe in Him. This is not all. The word to "know" often means experience. It is said of our Lord that, "He knew no sin." That is to say, He never experienced sin. He never became a sinner. To know Christ, then, we must feel and prove His power, His pardoning power, His power of love over the heart, His reigning power in subduing our passions, His comforting power, His enlightening power, His elevating power, and all those other blessed influences which, through the Holy Spirit, proceed from Christ. This is to experience Him. And once more, to "know" in Scripture often means to commune. Eliphaz says, "Acquaint yourself with God, be at peace with Him." That is to say, commune with Him, get into friendship and fellowship with Him. So it is necessary that every Believer should know Christ by having an acquaintance with Him, by speaking with Him in prayer and praise--by laying bare one's heart to His heart--receiving from Him the Divine secret, and imparting to Him the full confession of all our sins and griefs. In a word, dear Brethren, to know Christ is very much the same as to know any other person. When you know a man, if he is your intimate friend, you trust him, you love him, you esteem him, you are on speaking terms with him. You not only bow to him in the street, but you go to his house. You sit down with him at his table. At other times you hold counsel with him, or you ask his assistance. And he comes to your house, and you hold familiar association, the one with the other. There is a good understanding between you and the man of whom it may be truly said that you know him. On such terms must the soul be with Christ. He must not be merely an historic personage of whom we read in the pages of Scripture. But He must be a real Person with Whom we can speak in spirit, commune in heart, and be united in the bonds of love. We must know Him, His very Person, so as to love and to trust Him as a real Lord to us. Judge, then, each one, yourselves--whether you really and indeed, in this sense, "know" Christ. Do distinguish, however, between knowing about Christ and knowing Christ. We may know very much about many of our great men, though we do not know them. Now it will never save a soul to know about Christ. The only saving knowledge is to know Him, His very Self, and to trust Him, the living Savior, who is now at the right hand of God. To Him it is we speak. With Him in very deed we commune. Nor does it say that if we are able to speak about Him, therefore we are saved. Lest the music of your own tongue beguile you, remember how easy some people find it to talk fluently, eloquently, properly, and persuasively of persons they never knew. They had read it. They had stored it up in their memories, and they told it out again. They may vindicate the reputation of some hero or statesman in company where it is disgraced though they never knew any more of him than the fame that has reached their ears. Ah, but this is not enough here. You may be as fluent as Whitefield. Yes, you may be eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures as was Apollos. But if you do not know Christ by your own individual, personal acquaintance with His Person, with His righteousness, and with His blood, you will not be saved by all your fine speeches. Rather are you in imminent peril, that out of your own mouth you will be condemned. Such knowledge as we now refer to is inestimably precious. Get knowledge, classical or mathematical--apply yourself to literature, or study the sciences, enjoy the vast hoard of knowledge bequeathed to us by antiquity, or endeavor to augment that hoard, and transmit it to future ages--but after all, there is no knowledge that can ever match that of the Christ once crucified, now risen and exalted, and expected soon to return in Glory. Such knowledge as this is incomparable. It dives deep into the mine of God's eternal purpose. It soars high into the Heaven of God's everlasting love. It enlarges the soul by filling it with the inexhaustible fullness of Christ--Christ the wisdom of God--Whom THE LORD possessed in the beginning of His way before His works of old. O Sirs, he that gets such knowledge need not seek for degrees at the universities. He who has Christ has the highest imaginable degree. And, blessed forever be the name of my God, such knowledge can never be lost. If you know Christ, you have that written on the tablet of your heart which Satan shall never erase, which time shall never dim, which the iron hand of death shall never be able to blot out. There shall it stand forever. You know Him, and you are known of Him, "and they shall be Mine, says the Lord, in the day when I make up My jewels." "The Lord knows them that are His." They that know Him He knows, and He will confess them to be His own in the day when He comes in the glory of His Father, and all His holy angels with Him. I speak but simply, though I feel intensely the importance of this subject. A great solemnity surrounds it. Life and death, Heaven and Hell, are here clearly legible. For if you know Christ, it is well with you, but if you know Him not, you are ignorant of the one thing which can save your soul. II. Having laid down the matter that is propounded, we shall advance to speak OF THE TWO CHARACTERS THAT ARE PORTRAYED IN THE TEXT. With respect to the one--those who know that they know Him. We are told how they know that they know Him--"We know that we do know Him, if we keep His commandments." Some Christians who do know Christ are in great doubt as to whether they know Him. This ought not to be. It is too solemn a matter to be left to chance or conjecture. I believe there are saved ones who do not know of a surety that they are saved. They are raising the question often that never ought to be a question. No man ought to be content to leave that unsettled, for mark you, my Hearer or Reader, if you are not a saved man, you are a condemned man. If you are not forgiven, your sins lie on you. You are now in danger of Hell if you are not now secure of Heaven, for there is no place between these two. You are either a child of God, or not. Why do you say, "I hope I am a child of God, yet I do not know. I hope, yet I do not know that I am forgiven"? In such suspense you ought not to be. You are either one or the other--either a saint or a sinner--either saved or lost, either walking in the light or walking in the dark. Oh, it is very urgent that we should know that we know Him! Though, as I have already said, to know Him is the paramount matter--next to that there is nothing so important as to know that we know Him. Do you ask what service it would render you? It would give you such comfort as nothing else could. To know that you know Christ is a perennial joy, and an unfailing consolation under the heaviest trial. This is a candle that will shine in the dark night, and give you all the light that you shall want between here and Heaven. If I know that I know Christ, then all things are mine. Things present and things to come are alike in the Covenant of Grace. I am rich to all the intents of bliss, and the knowledge thereof is comfort indeed! You who are living on "perhaps" and "maybe," are living on dust and ashes. A piece of bread that is full of grit and dirt will break your teeth if you try to eat it. But, oh, if you can but get to know, to be persuaded, to be assured, to be confident, then shall you eat bread that is better than that which angels eat, and like Jonathan, when he touched the honey with his rod, and put it to his lips, you shall find your eyes enlightened! Nor is it joy alone you would find from this knowledge. It would no less certainly bring you confidence. When a man knows that he knows Christ, what confidence he has in meeting temptations! "Shall such a man as I flee?" What confidence in prayer! He asks believingly, as children beloved ask of a generous parent. And what a confident air this assurance before God would give us with the sons of men! We should not stammer in the presence of their philosophers, or look abashed in the presence of their nobles. But knowing that we knew Him, Whom to know is life eternal, we should not mind though they called us ignorant, or frowned at us as ignoble and presumptuous. We should not blush to confess our faith with an elevated self-possession. Our courage would no more fail us in the pestilential swamps of the world, than our enthusiasm would subside in the fertile garden of the Church, knowing that we shall not be ashamed nor confounded world without end. And this certainty that you know Christ would kindle in you the very highest degree of love. Knowing that I am saved, knowing that I am His, and He is mine, I cannot but feel the flames of affection towards Him glowing like coals of juniper. That love leads me to obedience, and that obedience develops in me fervor and zeal. Knowing that you know Him, you will be ready to cry out with a holy passion, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits towards me?" You will sing with ecstasy of His free Grace that made you know Him, and of His sovereign, distinguishing love, that embraced you-- "Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing My dear Redeemer's praise!" You cannot tell, dear Christians, you who are exercised with faint misgivings or with tormenting fears, what a great and infinite blessing this assurance would be to you--how it would make life seem young and like a thing Divine! To you who are converted, it would be like a second conversion. You are now bedridden with sick thoughts. Could you once know that you know Christ, you would leave that sick bed and pant no more to return to it, but enjoy the air, walk abroad, and fulfill joyfully your allotted tasks. I pray that the Master may say to many of you who are bowed with a spirit of infirmity, "Be made straight." And to others who have long lain on this bed of doubts and fears, "Take up your bed, and walk." Do you desire this sweet balm for an uneasy conscience? Observe the prescription, "Hereby we know that we do know Him if we keep His commandments." It is in the keeping of His commandments that this sound state of the soul's health is enjoyed. Do you ask for further explanation? It means to keep His commandments in our minds, and hold them fast in our memory with devout reverence. It should be the object of every Christian to find out what Christ's command is. And, this done, never to ask another question, but receive it with meekness, meditate upon its holy sanction, and venerate it as the Law of the Lord's House. If Christ has said it, I dare not cavil, argue, or question, much less rebel. It is mine to keep His commandments in my heart as a sacred trust. As precious treasures more to be desired than gold, and with a yet increasing relish, as luxuries to the taste, sweeter than honey or the honeycomb. But to keep them in our hearts, we must earnestly desire to fulfill them. By reason of the Fall we cannot perfectly keep the commands of Christ, but the heart keeps them as the standard of purity, and it would be perfect if it could. The Christian's only desire is to be exactly like Christ. It pains him that he falls short of His image. It gives him great joy if be can feel that the Holy Spirit is working in him anything like conformity to the Divine will. His heart is right towards God, sincerely so. This is not enough unless there is a constant, persevering aim to fulfill His commandments in our lives. Depend upon it, Brethren, that the want of practical obedience to Christ is the root of nine hundred and ninety-nine out of every thousand of our doubts and fears. The roots of our fears are in our sins. Search there, and you shall find the cause of soul trouble. I believe many a child of God walks in darkness because he does not obey the Word of the Lord. Take that sentence for your motto which the mother of Jesus addressed to the servants at the marriage in Cana of Galilee--"Whatever He says unto you, do it." Is it so that you often hear the precept with never a thought of heeding it? Then beware lest you "suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy." Or does your conscience smart with sore rebuke as often as it is mentioned? Then it is with you as with one who gets a wound in battle, and the sword that made it plunges through the wound again and pricks it deeper. Good cause is there, my Friend, for your unrest. If so be, you have an open wound left to fester. Christ commands you, for instance, to be baptized, and do you resist His will? Seek you some frivolous pretext, saying, "I pray you have me excused"? "He that knows his Master's will and does it not, the same shall be beaten with many stripes." Many a stripe has fallen upon a professed Believer because he has not been obedient to that injunction. The command that we should love each other is far too lightly esteemed by many. Now, if you do not love your fellow Christians fervently with a pure heart, can you wonder that you fall into doubts? It is natural that it should be so. Only in proportion as Divine Grace makes you obedient will Divine Grace make you an assured Christian. Your holiness and your confidence will keep pace together if your confidence is worth having. Presumption outruns holiness, but confidence never does. It is little matter of surprise to me when some men doubt whether they are saved. There are grave reasons why they should, since their lives are so little saturated with the Spirit of their Master. Well may you and I bemoan ourselves before God in the silent watches of the night, because, having experienced so much mercy we do so little in His service, and having seen so much of His Character we are so little like our Lord. Depend upon it, if you want to kill your doubts and fears, you must kill your sins, by God's Grace, by exterminating disobedience. We shall also exterminate the mass of our despondency, if not the whole of it. Although, my dear Brethren, I never said, nor thought that you must be perfect before you could be assured that you were a Christian, I tell you that you will never be altogether beyond doubts and fears till you are altogether beyond sin. And that will not be, I think, till you reach the other shore. A dear Friend in Christ wanted to debate this question with me some time ago--whether perfection was possible in this world. I told him I would rather not, but if he and I both tried to attain it, it would be the best way to settle the controversy. I only trust that my friend may reach it. I am half afraid I never shall, but I will leave no stone unturned to try. Who knows how far God may enable any single, watchful, prayerful soul to go? At any rate, take it as a rule, that as God gives you holiness, so God will give you assurance. And in proportion as you mar the fidelity of your obedience, in that proportion you will mar your evidences and weaken your knowledge that you know Him. Let me just give you an illustration of this point before I leave it. When our Lord met the disciples at Emmaus, and talked with them, they did not know Him while He talked with them. When do you think they did know that they knew Him? Why, not until they performed an act of obedience by offering hospitality to a stranger. Then He was known to them in the breaking of bread. Yes, there is a blessed eye-clearing to many and many a child of God when he comes to give of his bread to the poor and needy, and when he comes to the Table of the Lord, in remembrance of His death. He shall then know that he knows Him. We are told that the cherubim have wings, but they also have hands under their wings. True children of God have knowledge, but they have under their knowledge practice. And you have no good proof that you are a child of God because you have the wings of knowledge, unless you have also the hands of practice. Would one ascertain how much a sheep had eaten? It could be seen in no better way than by showing how much fat, and flesh, and wool it had gathered. So with a Christian. If you want to know how much he has lived on Christ, see how much of zeal, how much of obedience, how much of holiness he has gathered. For "hereby we do know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments." III. We now come to the last consideration. It hurls a momentous charge against dissemblers. There is such a thing as saying that we know Christ--but if any man say that he knows Christ, and keeps not His commandments, such a man is a liar--plain speech is this--he is a liar, and the Truth is not in him. I would have you, my dear Friends, give earnest heed to these words, because, while it is an easy thing to say that you know Him, there are many temptations so to do in a Church like this. When many are impressed, and a great number of your friends and acquaintances profess that they know Christ, you may easily fall into the current. Indeed, it may be hard to resist the tide, and perhaps without really knowing Him in your souls, you may be led, for the sake of companionship, to say that you know Him. Oh, I beseech you, never do this! If you know that you know Him, confess that knowledge at once. But never, never, never be induced to say anything beyond what you know. To let the tongue outrun the witness of the conscience is to betray guile in the heart. And the man whose sin is forgiven is one in whose spirit there is no guile. No, no! As you love your souls, keep your hands off all profession unless you have true possession. A man may tell a story so often, that though it is not true, he may at last come to believe it. I can think of one or two notable stories of good old friends that one always listens to without raising a question--though never without suspecting that they have gradually accumulated attritions of exaggeration. We may smile at the fiction whose tangled threads were woven thus to please the ear and tickle the fancy. But we tremble at the slow, almost imperceptible growth of a dire falsehood which beguiles a man's own soul. He may first of all say he hopes that he loves Christ. Then he may say, "Others think I do, and therefore I feel assured I do." And soon he may say this and that, with an air that satisfies his friends and gratifies himself, until he makes his poor deluded heart believe a lie. Yes, and I know he may go on the dupe of his own credulity to his grave, and perhaps even at the Judgment Seat of Christ he may say that he knows Christ, only then to awaken from his treacherous dream, when he shall hear Christ say--"I never knew you. Depart from Me, you worker of iniquity." O God, save us from this! Let us never say we know Him, unless in very deed and truth we know Christ and are found in Him. Now, John says that to say we know Christ, and not to keep His commandments is a lie. It is a verbal lie. The man who utters it speaks a lie. He says, "I know Christ." But it is a falsehood. He does not know Him. He knows about Him-- but his heart knows nothing of Jesus. It is a doctrinal lie, for it would be an awful heresy to say that a man who lived in sin knew Christ--that one who was a drunkard, or a thief, or unchaste--had acquaintance with the Savior. Does Christ keep such company? Does He call these His friends? The men who set the taproom on a roar? Your merry-makers, who can sing lascivious songs--are these Christ's friends? I know Christ keeps better company than this. He is holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. It is a lie against the doctrines of the Gospel. And it is a practical lie. The man who says, "I know Him," and then goes and breaks the commands of Christ--every time he sins tells a lie. People can tell lies when they hold their tongues, as I pointed out to the little children when ad- dressing them last Sunday afternoon. There was a little girl at school who always held her hand up when the boys and girls were asked to show in this manner that they knew the answer to any question that had been put to them. One afternoon she held her hand up when she did not know the answer, and a little school fellow said to her, "Jane, you did not know that." And she said, "No. But I thought teacher would think better of me if she thought I know it." "Ah," said the other, "but that is telling a lie with your hand." Yes, and you may equally act a lie. A man who professes to be a Christian when he is not hangs out false colors on Sunday, and all through the week he plays the liar's part. Were his profession true, surely his conduct would be consistent with it! It is a corrosive lie, a lie that eats into the man's soul, corrupts and cankers it, so that, as John says, "The Truth is not in him." The man that begins by lying about his relation to God soon becomes hardened to lying in the community of his fellow men. Some of the greatest rogueries and robberies ever committed have been perpetrated by professing Christian men. How often, when we have heard of a gigantic fraud, has there been some canting hypocrite or other connected with it! This is very natural, it is scarcely surprising. For when the man had come to deceive himself, to dissemble in things sacred, and to lie to God, he was such a practiced hand that the devil could not find a fitter vassal to lie to men. O take care of trifling with your convictions! You may flatter yourself with the vain conceit that you will never cheat anybody. I am not so sure. If a man would rob God, he would rob his mother. If he once gives the lie to God by making a false profession, I know not where he may stay his hand. Who, who would have sold Christ for thirty pieces of silver? Who, but Judas, he that professed to be His follower, His disciple, His private secretary, and His treasurer. Though all the while his heart was false to his Lord! It is a traitorous profession that breeds gigantic sins. Once again, it is a damning lie. The man that says, "I know Christ," and does not keep His commandments, is making his own damnation sure. He signs, seals, and stamps it every day. By his profession of being a follower of Christ he confesses that he knows what he ought to be, yet by his actions he proves that he is not what he ought to be. And so he is bearing witness against himself, judging himself, condemning his own soul, and challenging the dread sentence of everlasting perdition. God save us from such a lie as this! Before I conclude now, it behooves me to point out some of those characters upon which the brand must be fixed-- they are liars. If there are any such here, may their consciences be pricked. There have been persons who have professed their faith in Christ, but who have been in the habit of acting dishonestly. They have been negotiating fictitious bills. They have been stealing small articles out of shops. They have taken little sums of money out of tills. They have been dealing with short weights, and selling wares with wrong marks--and all this time they have said that they knew Christ. Now, one of His commandments is, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," and another one is, "You shall not steal." And in not keeping these they have proved themselves to be liars, though they called themselves Christians. Some who have professed faith in Christ have been drunkards. Present here tonight--I do not say they are now members of the Church, but they have been--are those who have fallen into habits of intemperance. I am afraid there are some who, though they escape the odium of detection, as they have not to go home at night from the public house, manage to drink pretty hard at home. Depend upon it, you who secretly indulge this vicious propensity are not less guilty, and shall not be more lightly judged by God than those who sin openly--who are locked up for being drunk on the Saturday night--and have to pay five shillings and costs on the Monday morning. You may be respectable in the eyes of your fellow men, but you are disreputable and scandalous hypocrites in the sight of Heaven. Some, too, there are of good standing in society--young men who have made a profession of faith--who can take pleasure in haunts that are something more than dubious. It is a shameful thing for a professor of Christianity to be found in those music halls, saloons, and places of revelry in London where you cannot go without your morals being polluted. You can neither open your eyes nor your ears without knowing at once that you are in the outskirts of Satan's domain. I charge you by the living God, if you cannot keep good company and avoid the circle of dissipation, do not profess to be followers of Christ! He bids you come out from among them! Be you separate, touch not the unclean thing. If you can find pleasure in lewd society and lascivious songs, what right have you to mingle with the fellowship of saints, or to join in the singing of Psalms? You do not keep the commandments, you violate them. The Truth is not in you, you betray it. And what shall we say of those who, while making a profession of religion, have been addicted to uncleanness? Sins that ought not to be spoken of among us lest the cheek of modesty should be made to blush, have been committed in secret by such as would be accounted Christian men. God have mercy upon unchaste professors, for whoredom is a deep ditch, and the abhorred of the Lord do fall into it. If any here have so fallen, may they lay aside their profession, for they bear the marks of God's abhorrence. Let them not come into His holy place, let them not gather to His Table, neither let them from this day on count themselves His children. Such they cannot be--their profession is a lie. The covetous! The greedy! The grasping! Those who see their Brethren have needs and shut up the heart of their compassion! To each of you the Master's words are very strong--"How dwells the love of God in him?" Covetousness is idolatry! If you are eaten up of the world. If money is your God, you are as surely condemned as if you had been dishonest or unchaste. And are there not others whose tongue is perverse and unruly, and their conversation often far from pure? Alas, when it comes to this--that men should presume to the Supper of the Lord who can hurl out an oath! That men who have been known, when excited, to blaspheme and use profane language should yet with the same mouth draw near to feed upon the emblems of the Savior's passion! O Sirs, if you had a conscience, surely you would not dare to come! If your hearts had any feeling left in them, you would tremble to be found among the people of God while your speech blasphemes the Most High. Is there one virtue of superlative excellence, peculiarly Christian, supported by the frequent precept and the unparalleled example of our Lord Jesus--surely it is that of forgiving injuries. Yet I have known some of His disciples, as they would have us believe, who have been unforgiving. Christians they called themselves, yet they could not forgive a trespass, were it even of their own children! A resentful, malicious Christian--what an anomaly! Did you not lately hear of a man, great and high in station--was he not a bishop?--who cut his daughter off with a shilling, or rather without a shilling, because she had married against his will? Ah, these things are not fit to be whispered about, nor is it possible for them to be kept in secret. I tell you, if you love not your Brethren, if you love not your own child, if you cannot forgive your child--there is nothing more certain in the book of God than this--that you will never enter Heaven. An unforgiving spirit is an unfor-given spirit. First, go and forgive your Brother before you bring your sacrifice, or God will neither accept you nor your offering. Are we not taught to pray, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us"? It has been hard work for me thus to mention these inconsistencies. I cannot venture farther, though I might have stated more. The labor of my lips is a burden to my heart. If any man's conscience smite him--well, let it smite him hard, let it smite him till it drives him from his sin--let it smite him till he falls at the feet of Jesus, a contrite suppliant for pardon. O be thorough, be thorough! If you wish to be washed from sin, eschew the sin, the penalties of which you dread. If you profess to know Christ, have nothing to do with a sinful world. Shake off the viper into the fire, for it will poison you and destroy you. God grant that you may renounce sin, if you profess in very deed to be the servants of Christ. My last word is this. If any man now feels himself troubled on account of sin, let me read these words to him, and I have done. Hear them in faith. They are the words that come before the text. "And if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." O come, you guilty ones, you guilty professors, you that have been false to your Lord and to His love! Come to Him notwithstanding all your bitter provocations. "And He is the Mercy Seat: the Propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." Look you, then, look and live! Whether saints or sinners, whatever your past lives may have been, look to the Propitiatory Sacrifice offered on Calvary's bloody tree! Look and live! The Lord grant it for His dear Son's sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Prepare To Meet Your God (No. 923) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MARCH 27, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Prepare to meet your God, O Israel." Amos 4:12. GOD had, in the days of Amos, by different ways rebuked the sin of His people Israel. He had wasted them with famine and sword. He had withheld the rain. He had sent forth the pestilence after the manner of Egypt. He had smitten their fields and gardens with blast and mildew, and He had overthrown some of them, as Sodom and Gomorrah. But they still persevered in their rebellion, and therefore He declares that He will send them no more of His messengers, and shoot no more of His far-reaching arrows, but will come Himself, in His own Person, to deal with them. God's way of dealing with rebellious humanity, is, at first to upbraid and persuade with words--soft, gentle, tender words. These He repeats many times, accompanying them with tokens of tenderness and Grace. By-and-by He exchanges these words of tenderness for words of mingled threat--He begins to expostulate with them--why will they drive Him to this? Why will they die? Why will they bring ruin upon themselves? Then, if words are of no effect upon them, He turns to blows--but His strokes fall softly at first. Yet if these avail not, His strokes gather strength, till at last He smites them with the blows of a cruel one, and wounds them sorely. If after this the sinners remain obstinate, the Lord's longsuffering turns to wrath, and He says, "Why should you be stricken any more? You will revolt more and more. Already your whole head is sick and your whole heart faint. What shall I do unto you? What shall I do unto you?" Things have come to a dreadful pass when at last the Lord puts aside the rod, when He puts aside afflictions which He has sent as chastisements, and comes forth Himself to end the strife, crying, "Ah, I will ease Me of My adversaries, and avenge Me of My enemies." Such was the position of Israel in the text. They had scorned all the milder dealings of God, and now He says to them, "Prepare to meet Me, even God Himself, in all the terror of justice." The Prophet may be understood as in irony challenging the proud rebels to meet in arms the God whom they have despised. Let them prepare to fight it out with Him whom they have made to be their enemy, and against whose Laws they have so continually revolted. "Prepare," says the Prophet, "O you potsherds, to strive with your Maker! You worms, to battle with Omnipotence." As it stands, the text is an awful challenge of Almighty wrath when at last longsuffering vacates the throne, and Justice bares its two-edged sword. Woe, woe, woe to boastful scoffers in that great and terrible day! We shall not, however, dwell upon the particular position of the text, nor confine ourselves to the meaning of the words as the Prophet used them. We shall, however, hope as fully as possible to illustrate the natural sense of the text, in the hope that such earnest and solemn words may awaken in some hearts tenderness towards God, and the desire to be prepared to meet Him. "Prepare to meet your God." We have before us a most important call, and we shall consider first the many tones in which it may be uttered. Secondly, the heavy tidings conveyed by it to the ungodly. And thirdly, the weighty admonition given there. I. First, then, let us think of these words in THEIR DIFFERENT TONES. They vary from grave to gay, from dread to delight--"Prepare to meet your God." Why, methinks there are no more joyous words under Heaven than these under some aspects, certainly none more solemn out of Hell under others. "Prepare to meet your God." These words may have sounded through the green alleys of Paradise, and have caused no discord there. Blending with the sweet song of new-created birds, these notes would have but given emphasis to the harmony. Often from the mossy couch whereon he reclined in the happy life of his innocence and bliss, the great sire of men would be aroused by this holy summons. When the sun first scattered the shades of darkness, and began to gild the tops of the snow-clad hills with morning light, Adam was awakened by the birds amid the groves of Eden, whose earliest song his heart interpreted, as meaning, "Awake, O wondrous man, and prepare to meet your God." Then climbing some ver- dant hill from where he looked down upon the landscape, all aglow with glory and with God, Adam would, in holy rapture, meet his God. And in lowly reverence would speak with Him as a man speaks with his friend. Then, too, at eventide, the dewdrops, as they fell, each one would say to that blessed man, "Prepare to meet your God." The lengthened shadows would silently give forth the same message, and perhaps it is no imagination, angels would alight upon lawns adorned with lilies, and pause where Adam stood pruning the growth of some too luxuriant vine, and would with courteous speech remind him that the day's work was over, for the sun was descending to the western sea, and it was time for the favored creature to have audience with his God. The faintest intimation would suffice for our first parent, for the crown of Paradise to him was the Presence of the Lord God. And Eden's rivers, though they flowed over sands of gold, had no river in them equal to the stream whereby the spirit of Adam was gladdened when he had communion with the Most High. For then he drank from that river of the water of life which flows from underneath the throne of the Great Supreme. Unfallen man had no greater joy than walking with God. It was Heaven on earth to meet in converse tender and sublime with the great Father of Spirits. No marriage bells ever rang out a sweeter or more joyous melody than these glad words as they were heard amid the myrtle bowers and palm groves of Eden by our first parents in the heyday of their innocence, "Prepare to meet your God." Then, when Jehovah walked in the garden in the cool of the day, He had no need to say aloud, "Adam, where are you?" For His happy creature whom He has made to have dominion over all the works of His hands was waiting for Him as a child waits for his father when the day's work is done--watching to hear his father's footsteps, and to see his father's face. Oh, yes! Those were words in fullest harmony with Eden's joys, "Prepare to meet your God." But, Brethren, weep not over those withered glories as those who are without hope, for the words have something of a heavenly sound to those who have been begotten again unto a lively hope by the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. We, though fallen and sinful, and therefore naturally averse to God, have, many of us, been renewed in the spirit of our minds, and now oftentimes to us the welcome message comes, "Prepare to meet your God," in a sense most delightful and most entrancing. It is our summons to devotion. It is morning, and as we put on our garments before we go forth to the battle of life, the angel of the Lord whispers to us, "Prepare to meet your God." And on our knees we seek our Father's face, and pray that we may be under His guardian care throughout the day. Think not that the holy Voice is silent until nightfall. Oh, no, oftentimes as business gives us pauses, and as our avocations may allow us leisure, we hear the inner life, or what if I say the indwelling Holy Spirit, softly saying to our heart, "Prepare to meet your God." And we, in spirit, put off our shoes from our feet, and feel that the place whereon we stand is holy ground! We may be in a poor workshop, but our spirit makes it a cathedral as it has communion with the Most High. Our study may be littered over with our books, and papers, and letters. But it becomes a sacred oratory on a sudden, and all things fall into order as the Voice is heard and obeyed. Perhaps we may be in the cornfield, or on the barley mow, but if the Voice says, "Prepare to meet your God," the true heart stands as a priest before the altar, and worships in spirit and in Truth. Even the streets of busy London may become a silent temple when the heart is solemnly absorbed in worship. For preparation to meet our God means no change of vestments, nor even the washing of the hands. There is a cleansing of the heart, and a putting on of the white linen, which in the righteousness of saints is performed in a moment, and the soul stands before her God in happy fellowship. Then, my dear Brothers and Sisters, there are set times with us when we prepare to meet our God, as for instance, on the eve of the Lord's-day. It always seems to me to be so pleasant at the family altar to make mention of the coming Sunday and to ask the Lord that we may lay aside our cares. Ask Him that we may be quit of every earthly impediment, and may sit in the heavenly places on the Day of Rest with our Father and our God. I know how late some of you have to keep your shops open on Saturday nights, and how it almost runs into the Sunday before you can be done with your business--but still I hope you do before you come here make a point of preparing for this meeting place with God by meeting Him first at home. I would not have you come here unprepared, as though the mere coming into the assembly would be enough. I anxiously desire to see you come with prepared hearts, with longing appetites, with holy aspirations. Bring your harps with you already tuned. Make ready for the holy convocation. Lay by in store your offering, prepare your song, uplift your heart. Yes, and besides the Sundays, there are certain other times with us when we are especially called to meet our God. We keep no holy days by the almanac, but we have holy days apportioned us by Providence and by the Holy Spirit. I mean that there are seasons hallowed by holy memories, or by present circumstances when sorrow and joy, earth and Heaven, all without and within, bear to us a call both loud and sweet, "Prepare to meet your God." Then we set apart a special time. The hour is consecrated to secret communion. God has claimed His portion of the day, and we sacredly guard it by entering into our closet and shutting the door. Inward motions of the Holy Spirit frequently calls us away to loneliness--let us not be slow to follow the blessed bidding. The voice of the Beloved invites us to His banquet of wine. He allures us to the secret chambers where Divine Love is revealed. He bids us stand in the cleft of the rock, while the glory of Godhead passes by. On such happy seasons, and I hope they are not infrequent with us, the silver trumpets of Jubilee ring through our souls the notes, "Prepare to meet your God," and then our motto is, "Up, and away, to the beds of spices, to the garden of pomegranates, where the Beloved will reveal Himself and give us an audience with the King." Once again, these words, "Prepare to meet your God," have no gloomy significance to some of my dear Brothers and Sisters here present, even though we attach to them the sense of the Believer's meeting God in a disembodied state. Christians, especially when they grow aged, must often hear the angel whisper, "Prepare to meet your God." From the inevitable process of decay which takes place in the body--from the failure of eyesight, the tottering of the limbs, and the gray hairs--there must come subdued and tender voices, all saying, "Prepare to meet your God." The tent is being taken down, the cord is loosed, the tent pin no longer holds to the earth. Soon must the canvas be rolled up and put away. But you have a House not made with hands, eternal in the heavens! Look up, then, and prepare to dwell there. Prepare your spirit not to be unclothed, but to be clothed upon with your House which is from Heaven. My aged Brothers and Sisters, I can imagine how it is with you. The dear friends who have been the companions of your childhood and your manhood depart before you, and as they wing their happy flight to the land of the living, they look back and say, "Prepare to follow us." Nor are you at all grieved at such an invitation! Rather do you sometimes feel impatient for the gladsome time when you may join that cloud of doves which flock to those everlasting windows and find their resting places with the Well-Beloved. Friends gathering in the upper sanctuary beckon to you whose years are threescore and ten, and you feel the attractions of their blessed society on happy Sundays when the atmosphere of your souls is clear, and the Sun of Righteousness shines forth with power! You dwell in the land, Beulah, and behold so vividly the New Jerusalem and its royal Lord, that, as though an angel spoke, you hear the sound, "Prepare to meet your God." Often when the hymn is swelling up to Heaven, you feel as if you could mount upon it and pass through the gate of pearl. At the holy Supper Table, how loud is the call to come up higher into the excellent glory! Young as I am, and earthbound--to me, even to me--the Communion Table has made me unloose my cable, spread my sails, and long for that last voyage which shall make this world a foreign shore, and the glory land the harbor of our spirits. Surely, my aged Brethren, it must be far more so with you who have so many friends across the water, so many of your best beloved on the other side of Jordan! Your strength of experience and your weakness of body must both tend to give frequency to the message, "Prepare to meet your God." To you the tidings are happy. You are exiles and you long for Home, you are children at school and you pine for your Father's House. But now I must pass on to notice that those words have not always that sweet ring of the silver bells about them. They are words of caution to the vast majority of men. "Prepare to meet your God." Alas, How many of you to whom I now speak are unprepared! It pains me to think of it. As I sat last night about eight o'clock, revolving in my mind a subject for this hour's discourse, there came a knock at my door, and I was earnestly entreated by a father to hasten to the deathbed of his dear girl. I wanted much my time for preparation, but as the dear one was in such a case, and had long been a constant hearer of the Word in this Tabernacle, I felt it my duty to go whether I could prepare a sermon or not. Glad I was to hear that sick one's testimony. She told me with what, I fear was her dying breath, that she was not fully assured of her interest in Christ, but she left me no room to doubt when, between paroxysms and convulsions, she said, "I know I do love Jesus, and that is all I know." Yes, and I thought it is all I want to know. If any one of us always knows that he loves the Savior, what more does he require of testimony as to his state? But my mind was sore oppressed then, as it is now, with the thought that so many of you are not prepared to die at all. I see my sermons in sick rooms, often, and I come to think of preaching sermons in a different light from what many do. I will try to preach sermons which will suit your most solemn hours and most serious circumstances. I would gladly deliver sermons which shall haunt your sickbeds, and accuse you unless you yield to their persuasions, and believe in Jesus. When you lie on the borders of the spirit world, you will count all religious trifling to be cruel mockery. So let me say it affectionately, but very earnestly, to you, "Prepare to meet your God," for I am afraid many of you are quite unprepared. You have seen others die. They preach to you from their graves, and they say, "So to the dust must you also come, my Friend. Be you ready, for in such an hour as you think not, the Son of Man will call for you." You have had sicknesses in your own body. You are not now the strong man you once were. You have already passed through many perils. What are all these but voices from the God of Mercy saying, "Consider your ways"? You are not such a simpleton as to think that you shall never die--you know you will. Neither are you so insane as to think that when you die, your death will be that of a horse or a dog. You know there is a hereafter and a state of being in which men shall be judged according to the deeds that they have done in the body, whether they are good or whether they are evil. May I therefore press upon your earnest recollection, and your intense consideration at this present moment, the exhortation of the text, "Prepare to meet your God!" Once more, let me say that this sound, as I have now put it, has little melody in it. It will by-and-by be heard in ungodly ears as a peremptory summons--and then there shall be no music in it, but a horrid clang that shall drive away all hope--"Prepare to meet your God." That summons will come to each one of you unconverted people, and when it comes it will admit of no postponement. Call in the wisest surgeon, or the most accomplished physician, and he cannot put off for an hour the execution of God's death-warrant. "Prepare to meet your God," will mean that at such a time, and such an hour, and at such a moment, the spirit must return to God who gave it. There will be no evasion of that summons. There will be no possibility, then, of a Substitute dying in your place. "Prepare to meet your God" will come to you, my Hearer, beyond all doubt. Oh, how I wish that you were prepared for it! You must assuredly meet your God whom you have forgotten all these years--your Creator, whose rights you have ignored. Your Preserver, to Whom you have rendered no kind of recompense. Your King, whose name it may be you have blasphemed. You have denied His existence, but you will meet Him. You have lived in open revolt against His righteous Laws, but you will certainly meet Him. No exemption will be possible. Before His judgment seat you must stand. Prepared or unprepared at the sound of the resurrection trumpet, you must appear at His bar. No words of mine, however terrible they may be, can by any possibility equal the horror which the judgment to come and the wrath to be measured out will cause to the unregenerate heart. We are sometimes accused, my Brethren, of using language too harsh, too ghastly, too alarming, with regard to the world to come. But we shall not soon change our note, for we solemnly believe that if we could speak thunderbolts, and our every look were a lightning flash--and if our eyes dropped blood instead of tears--no tones, words, gestures, or likenesses of dread could exaggerate the awful condition of a soul which has refused the Gospel and is delivered over to Justice. "He that despised Moses' Law died without mercy under two or three witnesses: of how much sorer punishment, suppose you, shall he be thought worthy, who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the Covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and has done despite unto the Spirit of Grace? For we know Him that has said, Vengeance belongs unto Me, I will recompense, says the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge His people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." Remember His own words, "Consider this, you that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver" (Psa. 50:22). Certain prophets of smooth things rise up among us, deluding the people with thoughts that the judgment to come will not be terrible, but will end in eternal sleep. Into their secret my soul comes not. I must speak the Master's Truth and the Master's Words. O you ungodly, your punishment will not end, for He has said it, "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." Your miseries shall have no cessation, for He who cannot lie, declares, "The smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever." From the lips of Jesus at the Day of Judgment you shall receive the sentence of everlasting blessedness or everlasting punishment, and no other. May God grant that you may not dare to sin under the notion that your sin is a mere trifle, for both you and it will soon cease to be. Nature itself teaches you that your soul will exist forever. O make it not forever a ruin! Bring not upon yourself everlasting destruction from the Presence of the Lord and from the glory of His power! Thus have you rung the changes on the tones of these words, and I leave them with you. II. Secondly, and very briefly. There are HEAVY TIDINGS in these words. Heavy tidings for the ungodly, for thus they run--"Prepare to meet your God." I wish I could take hold of every unbeliever here, of every man and woman whose heart is not right with God, and personally speak to them, just as of old the Prophet spoke to Jeroboam's wife, and said, "I have heavy tidings from the Lord for you." So would I speak to them, "I have heavy tidings, unconverted Friends, from the Lord for you." And the tidings are these, "You will before long have to meet your God. Listen to the words, "meet your God." You have by some means passed through this world without meeting Him. He is everywhere, but you have managed not to see Him. He has fed you, and in Him you have lived and moved, and had your being. But you have contrived so to stultify yourself that you have never yet perceived Him. You will perceive Him soon. When the flesh shall fall off from your spirit, your disembodied soul will see without these eyes far more clearly than it now does--for you will begin to see the spiritual world which is now hidden from you--and chief and foremost you will meet your God. Now you say in your heart "no God," because the thought of God is objectionable to you. You could not sin as you do if you remembered that the all-seeing eye is in the chamber, no, is in your heart itself. Remember you will not be able soon to shake off the thought of God, for you will meet Him face to face. Not the thought of God only, but the actual Being of God will confront you in your dying hour. You will be compelled to meet Him. It will be a close meeting, not as though He looked upon you from afar, or you surveyed Him from a distance. But you will so meet Him that all the Glory of His majesty will operate upon you like the fire which devours the stubble--for our God is a consuming fire. His holiness will become wrath against your sin, not wrath treasured up and removed far away, but wrath that shall come near to you to consume you. It will be an inevitable meeting, from which you will not be able to escape. From your fellow creature, whom you do not wish to see, you readily withdraw yourself, but you cannot escape from God. The rays of the morning's sun could not carry you so fast as the Lord's right hand can move. The uttermost parts of the sea cannot conceal you. The night shall be light about you. Neither the heights of Heaven, nor the depths of Hell can conceal you from Him. You must meet face to face with your God. And it must be a personal meeting. God and you will meet as if alone. God alone and you alone. What if there are angels? What if there are ten thousand times ten thousands of your kindred sinners? To you, virtually, it shall be solitude itself. You must meet your God! You, YOU! O my dear Hearer, it is a sad thing that this should be heavy tidings to you, for if you were what you should be, it would be joy to you to think that you shall be near your God, and dwell in His embrace. But, unconverted as you are, no tidings can have more of horror in them than these--that you, do as you will, and steel your heart as you may--must by-and-by confront your God. Think awhile upon Who it is that you have to meet! You must meet your God--your God! That is, offended Justice you must meet whose laws you have broken, whose penalties you have ridiculed. Justice righteously indignant with its sword drawn you must confront. You must meet your God. That is, you must be examined, by unblind Omniscience. He who has seen your heart, and read your thoughts, and jotted down your affections, and remembered your idle words-- you must meet Him. And infinite discernment you must meet--those eyes that never yet were duped. The God who will see through the veils of hypocrisy and all the concealments of formality. There will be no making yourself out to be better than you are before Him. You must meet Him who will read you as a man reads a book open before his eyes. You mast meet with unsullied holiness. You have not always found yourself happy on earth when you have been with holy men--you could not act out your natural impulses in their presence, they were a check upon you. But the infinitely holy God, what must it be to meet Him? It will be such an interview for a sinner to meet with the thrice holy God as for dross to meet with the refiner's fire or stubble with the flame. You will have, moreover, to meet with insulted Mercy, and perhaps this will be the most dreadful meeting of the whole--when your conscience will remind you that you were invited to repent, that you were urged to lay hold of Christ, that you were honestly bid to be saved--but you hardened your neck and would not be persuaded. O Sinner, by so much as God is patient with you now, by so much will He be angry with you then. They who slight the warnings of His Divine Grace shall feel the terrors of His wrath. To none shall it be so hard to meet God in justice as to those who would not meet Him in Grace--vengeance takes the place of slighted mercy. God grant you may never know what it is to meet insulted love, rejected mercy, and tenderness turned to wrath! O Sinner, if you have to meet your God as you now are, you will find Him everlasting Truth, fulfilling every threatening Word of His Law and Gospel. Every black Word that is in this Book shall be fulfilled over your head, and every dreadful syllable be verified in your loins and in your heart. Remember too, that you will meet with Him who has Omnipotent power--against whom you can no more contend than the smoke against the wind, or the fuel against the furnace. You shall then know how God can punish, and you will find Him not a weak and trembling God, but an Omnipotent God, putting forth His power to destroy His adversaries who have dared to assail against His majesty. Thus have I put a few thoughts together, in very feeble language, I confess, but they ought, of themselves, apart from mere words, to have power with you. I pray God the Holy Spirit that you, dear Hearer, may prepare to meet your God. You see who it is you have to meet, and what it will be to meet Him. May God make you to be prepared for what must occur. III. The last point is this. Here is A WEIGHTY PRECEPT--prepare to meet God. How can a man be prepared to meet God? In the text there is an allusion to preparing for battle, but none of you would wish to contend with God in the hereafter. Who is he that thinks that with a thousand he can meet one that comes against him with a countless host of ten thousand times ten thousand? O Rebel, the warfare is hopeless, ground your arms. It were worse than madness to dream of contending with God. Submit, for resistance is vain. Better far is it to prepare to meet God as sinners. We are today like prisoners who are waiting for our court date, and the news has come that the judge is ready, and we, the prisoners, are to prepare to meet him. Sooner or later it must be the lot of us all to come before the Judge. Now, Brethren, what is the right way to prepare to meet a judge? If any of you can plead, "Not guilty," your preparation is made. But there is not one man among us who dares think of that. We have sinned, great God, and we confess the sin. What preparation, then, can we make? Suppose we sit down and investigate our case. Can we plead extenuations? Can we urge excuses or mitigations, or hope to escape by promises of future improvement? Let us give up the attempt, my Brethren. We have gone astray willfully and wickedly--and we shall do it again--it is of no use for us to set up any kind of defense that is grounded upon ourselves. How, then, can we be prepared to meet our God? Hearken. There is an Advocate, and it is written, "If any man sin we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous." Let us send for Him. We poor prisoners, lying waiting in the cells, send for Jesus, the Son of God, to be our Intercessor and Advocate. Will He undertake our cause? O that He would plead the cause of our souls, and be our Daysman to speak with God on our behalf! Yes! He will accept the office, and be our Advocate, for He has said, "Him that comes to Me I will in no wise cast out." Then let us apply to Him, and say, "Jesus, undertake our case." Will you not do this? Oh, I pray God you may! Sitting in these pews, you may engage the services of the great Advocate. Cry in your hearts, "Son of David, undertake for me, undertake my case." Well, now, supposing we have put it all into His hands, and He who is called Wonderful is received as our Counselor to plead for us. What is next to be done? First He bids us prepare to meet our God by at once taking up our true position as sinners. Let us plead guilty. Let us make a full and penitent confession. We cannot be saved by Christ unless we will do as He bids us. Faith is only real as it is obedient. One of the first Gospel exhortations which Jesus gives us is this, that we confess our sins. O that we may honestly plead guilty, for our iniquity stares us in the face, and we ought heartily to make acknowledgment of it--for it is an evil and a bitter thing--and has worked us woeful damage. O great Counselor, if You bid us plead guilty, we do so with many tears and with broken hearts. We do confess that all our hope must lie in Divine mercy, for we have no merit. Lost and undone, we cry, "Have mercy upon us, miserable sinners!" But what next? Why then, the great Counselor will enter a plea for us, which will bar all further action against us. Though we have confessed that we are guilty, He knows how at the great Judgment Seat to plead a legal argument for the removal of all punishment. And what does He plead? Here is His argument, "My Father," says He, "I stood of old in the place of these who have committed their case to My hands, and who plead guilty at Your Judgment Seat. I suffered for their sins. I bore, that they might never bear, Your righteous ire. I satisfied Your Law on their behalf. I claim, My Father, that they go free." The infinite Majesty admits the plea. O Brothers and Sisters, if your case is in the hands of Christ, and you confess your guilt, do you not see how He sets you free so that you may be prepared to meet your God? Because you can plead the blood of Jesus, the Atonement of the great Substitute for sinners, and covered with that Substitution, you can stand accepted in the Beloved! "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifies. Who is he that condemns? It is Christ that died, yes rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us." But you have not heard the Counselor through yet, for as He goes on to speak before the infinite Majesty, He pleads, "My Father, I obeyed the Law on their behalf. I kept it in its very jots and tittles. I made it honorable, and now the righteousness which I achieved, I have made over unto them, for all that I am is theirs. My righteousness is their righteousness, and they shall stand accepted in the Beloved." The great Judge of all admits the fact, and He receives into His bosom and into His Glory poor souls who had sinned and pleaded guilty, but who now have imputed to them the righteousness of Jesus Christ, and are justified by faith which is in Him. All their iniquities are blotted out. don't you see, dear Friends, what it is to be prepared to meet God! For now we have a good case, now we are not afraid of the last court session. Our case is in the hands of a blessed Advocate whose pleading must prevail. All that you and I have now to do is to prove by our actions that we really have believed in Christ. Let us go on to justify our faith if, indeed, our faith has justified us. Let us prove the sincerity of our confidence in Christ by the holiness of our lives, by the devotedness of those lives to His honor and glory. Let us wake up all our powers and passions that we may become His servants to the highest extent and manhood's energy--living, laboring, working for Christ--because He has undertaken our case, and will save us at the last. Thus have I set before you what it is to be prepared to meet God, in the hope that many here will make ready to meet Him. And now let me remind you that the subject on which I have spoken this morning may have a much nearer interest to some of you than you imagine. It has a very near interest to every one of us. It is but a matter of time, and all of us must appear at the Divine tribunal--but there are some to whom it may have a peculiarly close bearing. As I just told you, I did not select this subject, I had no idea of preaching from it--the subject selected me. I was dragged into this present line of thought. I am a pressed man in this service. That sick young woman's necessities forced me to this subject. Why this special arrangement? I believe the reason is because there are some here this morning who are now receiving the last warning they will ever have. I am solemnly persuaded that I have among my hearers and readers some to whom this feeble word of mine is no other than an arrow from the bow of the Almighty God. To others it is a final message of mercy, and if this does not strike them, wound them, and drive them to Christ, nothing ever will. From this day forth they shall feel no more stirrings of conscience, or strivings of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps before another Sunday's bell shall ring, some of you now listening to my voice will be in the land of spirits and have passed the solemn test--weighed in the balances and found wanting. If it is so, and it were hard for any man here to prophesy that it shall not be so, for where several thousands are met together, the very chances of mortality, as men call them, go to make us fear it. The fact of this subject being thrust upon me makes me feel as though a Prophetic impulse were in it. Then, if it is so, you and I, whoever you may be, fated for death this week, stand in a peculiar relationship to each other. 1 may be gazing straight into those eyes which shall never look upon me again till we meet at the Judgment Bar, and if I am not faithful to your soul, you may rise up amidst that throng and say, "I strayed into that Tabernacle, and I listened to you, but you played with your theme, you were not earnest, and so I was lost." So then I will be earnest! I evoke you by the living God, escape from the wrath to come! As the Lord lives, there is but a step between you and death! Flee for your life! Look not behind you! Turn your whole soul to Jesus! A crucified Savior waits for a lost sinner, willing to receive him, willing to receive him now! Now you can not look me in the face in the next world and say I did not speak to you earnestly. O that the glance which we exchange at this moment may be succeeded in that tremendous day by a glance of recognition in which there shall be the soft emotions of gratitude and affection, as you and I shall say to each other there, "Blessed be God that we met on that hallowed Sunday, for now we shall meet forever before the throne of Him that lives and was dead, and is alive forever more, and has the keys of Hell and of death." God bless you, every one of you, richly, for Jesus' sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Jesus Only A Sermon (No. 924) Delivered on Lord's-Day Morning, April 3rd, 1870, by C. H. SPURGEON, At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington "And when they had lifted up their eyes, they saw no man, save Jesus only."--Matthew 17:8. The last words will suffice us for a text, "Jesus only." When Peter saw our Lord with Moses and Elias, he exclaimed, "Master, it is good to be here," as if he implied that it was better to be with Jesus, and Moses, and Elias, than to be with Jesus only. Now it was certainly good that for once in his life he should see Christ transfigured with the representatives of the law and the prophets; it might be for that particular occasion the best sight that he could see, but as an ordinary thing an ecstasy so sublime would not have been good for the disciples; and Peter himself very soon found this out, for when the luminous cloud overshadowed him, and the voice was heard out of heaven, we find that he with the rest became sore afraid. The best thing after all for Peter, was not the excessive strain of the transfiguration, nor the delectable company of the two great spirits who appeared with Jesus, but the equally glorious, but less exciting society of "Jesus only." Depend on it, brethren, that ravishing and exciting experiences and transporting enjoyments, though they may be useful as occasional refreshments, would not be so good for every day as that quiet but delightful ordinary fellowship with "Jesus only," which ought to be the distinguishing mark of all Christian life. As the disciples ascended the mountain side with Jesus only, and as they went back again to the multitude with Jesus only, they were in as good company as when they were on the mountain summit, Moses and Elias being there also; and although Jesus Christ in his common habiliments and in his ordinary attire might not so dazzle their eyes as when they saw his raiment bright as the light, and his face shining as the sun, yet he really was quite as glorious, and his company quite as beneficial. When they saw him in his everyday attire, his presence was quite as useful to them as when he robed himself in splendor. "Jesus only," is after all upon the whole a better thing than Jesus, Moses, and Elias. "Jesus only," as the common Jesus, the Christ of every day, the man walking among men, communing in secret with his disciples, is a better thing for a continuance while we are in this body, than the sight even of Jesus himself in the excellence of his majesty. This morning, in trying to dwell upon the simple sight of "Jesus only," we shall hold it up as beyond measure important and delightful, and shall bear our witness that as it was said of Goliath's sword, "there is none like it," so may it be said of fellowship with "Jesus only." We shall first notice what might have happened to the disciples after the transfiguration; we shall then dwell on what did happen; and then, thirdly, we shall speak on what we anxiously desire may happen to those who hear us this day. I. First, then, WHAT MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED to the three disciples after they had seen the transfiguration. There were four things, either of which might have occurred. As a first supposition, they might have seen nobody with them on the holy mount; they might have found all gone but themselves. When the cloud had overshadowed them, and they were sore afraid, they might have lifted up their eyes and found the entire vision melted into thin air; no Moses, no Elias, and no Jesus. In such a case they would have been in a sorry plight, like those who having begun to taste of a banquet, suddenly find all the viands swept away; like thirsty men who have tasted the cooling crystal drops, and then seen the fountain dried up before their eyes. They would not have gone down the mountain side that day asking questions and receiving instruction, for they would have had no teacher left them. They would have descended to face a multitude and to contend with a demon; not to conquer Satan, but to stand defeated by him before the crowd; for they would have had no champion to espouse their cause and drive out the evil spirit. They would have gone down among Scribes and Pharisees to be baffled with their knotty questions, and to be defeated by their sophistries, for they would have had no wise man, who spake as never man spake, to untie the knots and disentangle the snarls of controversy. They would have been like sheep without a shepherd, like orphan children left alone in the world. They would henceforth have reckoned it an unhappy day on which they saw the transfiguration; because having seen it, having been led to high thoughts by it, and excited to great expectations, all had disappeared like the foam upon the waters, and left no solid residuum behind. Alas! For those who have seen the image of the spirits of just men made perfect, and beheld the great Lord of all such spirits, and then have found themselves alone, and all the high companionship forever gone. My dear brethren and sisters, there are some in this world and we ourselves have been among them, to whom something like this has actually occurred. You have been under a sermon, or at a gospel ordinance, or in reading the word of God, for a while delighted, exhilarated, lifted up to the sublimer regions, and then afterwards when it has all been over, there has been nothing left of joy or benefit, nothing left of all that was preached and for the moment enjoyed, nothing, at any rate, that you could take with you into the conflicts of every-day life. The whole has been a splendid vision and nothing more. There has been neither Moses not Elias, nor Jesus left. You did remember what you saw, but only with regret, because nothing remained with you. And, indeed, this which happens sometimes to us, is a general habit of that portion of this ungodly world which hears the gospel and perceives not its reality; it listens with respect to gospel histories as to legends of ancient times; it hears with reverence the stories of the days of miracles; it venerates the far-off ages and their heroic deeds, but it does not believe that anything is left of all the vision, any thing for to-day, for common life, and for common men. Moses it knows, and Elias it knows, and Christ it knows, as shadows that have passed across the scene and have disappeared, but it knows nothing of any one of these as abiding in permanent influence over the mind and the spirit of the present. All come and all gone, all to be reverenced, all to be respected, but nothing more; there is nothing left, so far as they are concerned, to influence or bless the present hour. Jesus and his gospel have come and gone, and we may very properly recollect the fact, but according to certain sages there is nothing in the New Testament to affect this advanced age, this enlightened nineteenth century; we have got beyond all that. Ah! Brethren, let those who can be content to do so, put up with this worship of moral relics and spiritual phantoms; to us it would be wretchedness itself. We, on the other hand, say, blessing the name of the Lord that we can say it, that there abides with us our Lord Jesus. At this day he is with us, and will be with us even to the end of the world. Christ's existence is not a fact confined to antiquity or to remote distance. By his Spirit he is actually in his church; we have seen him, though not with eyes; we have heard him, though not with ears; we have grasped him, though not with hands; and we feed upon his flesh, which is meat indeed, and his blood, which is drink indeed. We have with us at this very day Jesus our friend, to whom we make known our secrets, and who beareth all our sorrows. We have Jesus our interpreting instructor, who still reveals his secrets to us, and leads us into the mind and name of God. We have Jesus still with us to supply us with strength, and in his power we still are mighty. We confess his reigning sovereignty in the church, and we receive his all-sufficient succors. The church is not decapitated, her Head abides in vital union with her; Jesus is no myth to us, whatever he may be to others; he is no departed shade, he is no heroic personification: in very deed there is a Christ, and though others see him not, and even we with these eyes see him not, yet in him believing we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Oh, I trust it will never be so with us, that as we go about our life work our religion shall melt into fiction and become nothing but mere sentiment, nothing but thought, and dream, and vision; but may our religion be a matter of fact, a walking with the living and abiding Saviour. Though Moses may be gone, and Elias may be gone, yet Jesus Christ abideth with us and in us, and we in him, and so shall it be evermore. Now, there was a second thing that might have happened to the disciples. When they lifted up their eyes they might have seen Moses only. It would certainly have been a very sad exchange for what they did see, to have seen Moses only. The face of Moses would have shone, his person would have awed them, and it would have been no mean thing for man of humble origin like themselves to walk down the mountain with that mighty king in Jeshurun, who had spoken with God face to face, and rested with him in solemn conclave by the space of forty days at a time. But yet who would exchange the sun for the moon? Who would exchange the cold moonbeams of Moses and the law for the sunny rays of the Saviour's divine affection? It would have been an unhappy exchange for them to have lost their Master whose name is love, and to have found a leader in the man whose name is synonymous with law. Moses, the man of God, cannot be compared with Jesus, the Son of God. Yet dear brethren, there are some who see Moses only. After all the gospel preaching that there has been in the world, and the declaration of the precious doctrines of grace every Sabbath day; after the clear revelations of Scripture, and the work of the Holy Spirit in men's hearts; yet we have among us some who persist in seeing nothing but Moses only. I mean this, there are some who will see nothing but shadows still, mere shadows still. As I read my Bible I see there that the age of the symbolical, the typical, the pictorial, has passed away. I am glad of the symbols, and types, and pictures, for they remain instructive to me; but the age in which they were in the foreground has given way to a clearer light, and they are gone forever. There are, however, certain persons who profess to read the Bible and to see very differently, and they set up a new system of types and shadows--a system, let me say, ridiculous to men of sense, and obnoxious to men of spiritual taste. There are some who delight in outward ordinances; they must have rubric and ritual, vestments and ceremonial, and this superabundantly, morning, noon and night. They regard days, and seasons, and forms of words and postures. They consider one place holy above another. They regard a certain caste of men as being priestly above other believers, and their love of symbols is seen in season and out of season. One would think, from their teachings, that the one thing needful was not "Jesus only," but custom, antiquity, outward performance, and correct observance! Alas! for those who talk of Jesus, but virtually see Moses, and Moses only. Ah! unhappy change for the heart if it could exchange spiritual fellowship with Jesus for outward acts and symbolical representations. It would be an unhappy thing for the Christian church if she could ever be duped out of the priceless boons which faith wins from her living Lord in his fullness of grace and truth, to return to the beggarly elements of carnal ordinances. Unhappy day, indeed, if Popish counterfeits of legal shadows should supplant gospel fact and substance. Blessed be God, we have not so learned Christ. We see something better than Moses only. There are too many who see Moses only, inasmuch as they see nothing but law, nothing but duty and precept in the Bible. I know that some here, though we have tried to preach Christ crucified as their only hope, yet whenever they read the Bible, or hear the Gospel, feel nothing except a sense of their own sinfulness, and, arising out of that sense of sinfulness, a desire to work out a righteousness of their own. They are continually measuring themselves by the law of God, they feel their shortcomings, they mourn over their transgressions, but they go no further. I am glad that they see Moses, may the stern voice of the lawgiver drive them to the lawfulfiller; but I grieve that they tarry so long in legal servitude, which can only bring them sorrow and dismay. The sight of Sinai, what is it but despair? God revealed in flaming fire, and proclaiming with thunder his fiery law, what is there here to save the soul? To see the Lord who will by no means spare the guilty, but will surely visit transgression with eternal vengeance, is a sight which never should eclipse Calvary, where love makes recompense to justice. O that you may get beyond the mount that might be touched, and come to Calvary, where God in vengeance is clearly seen, but where God in mercy fills the throne. Oh how blessed is it to escape from the voice of command and threatening and come to the blood of sprinkling, where "Jesus only" speaketh better things! Moses only, however, has become a sight very common with some of you who write bitter things against yourselves. You never read the Scriptures or hear the gospel without feeling condemned. You know your duty, and confess how short you have fallen of it, and therefore you abide under conscious condemnation, and will not come to him who is the propitiation for your sins. Alas, that there should be so many who with strange perversity of unbelief twist every promise into a threatening, and out of every gracious word that drips with honey manage to extract gall and wormwood. They see the dark shadow of Moses only; the broken tablets of the law, the smoking mount, and the terrible trumpet are ever with them, and over all an angry God. They had a better vision once, they have it sometimes now; for now and then under the preaching of the gospel they have glimpses of hope and mercy, but they relapse into darkness, they fall again into despair, because they have chosen to see Moses only. I pray that a change may come over the spirit of their dream, and that yet like the apostles they may see "Jesus only." But, my brethren, there was a third alternative that might have happened to the disciples, they might have seen Elijah only. Instead of the gentle Saviour, they might have been standing at the side of the rough-clad and the stern-spirited Elias. Instead of the Lamb of God, there might have remained to them only the lion who roared like the voice of God's own majesty in the midst of sinful Israel. In such a case, with such a leader, they would have gone down from the mount, and I wot that if John had said, "Command fire from heaven," Elias would have consumed his foes; the Pharisees, like the priests of Baal, would have found a speedy end; Herod's blood, like Ahab's, would have been licked up by dogs; and Herodias, like another Jezebel, would have been devoured of the same. But all this power for vengeance would have been a poor exchange for the gracious omnipotence of the Friend of sinners. Who would prefer the slayer of the priests to the Saviour of men? The top of Carmel was glorious when its intercession brought the rain for Israel, but how poor it is compared with Gethsemane, whose pleadings bring eternal life to millions! In company with Jesus we are at Elim beneath the palm tree, but with Elias we are in the wilderness beneath the stunted juniper. Who would exchange the excellency of Olivet for the terrors of Horeb? Yet I fear there are many who see Elias only. Prophecies of future woe fascinate them rather than thoughts of present salvation. Elias may be taken representatively as the preparer of Christ, for our Lord interpreted the prophecy of the coming of Elias as referring to John the Baptist. There are not a few who abide in the seeking, repenting, and preparing state, and come not to "Jesus only." I am not myself fond of even using the term "preparing for Christ," for it seems to me that those are best prepared for Christ who most feel themselves unprepared; but there is no doubt a state of heart which prepares for faith--a sense of need, a consciousness of sin, a hatred of sin, all these are preparations for actual peace and comfort in Christ Jesus, and oh! How many there are who continue year after year merely in that preliminary condition, choosing the candle and refusing the sun. They do not become believers, but are always complaining that they do not feel as yet fit to come to Christ. They want Christ, they desire Christ, they would fain have Christ, but they stay in desire and longing and go no further. They never get so far as to behold "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world." The voice from heaven to them they always interpret as crying, "The axe is laid unto the root of the trees; bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance." Their conscience is thrilled, and thrilled again, by the voice that crieth in the wilderness, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." Their souls are rent and torn by Elijah's challenge, "If the Lord be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him;" but they remain still halting between two opinions, trembling before Elias and not rejoicing before the Saviour. Unhappy men and women, so near the kingdom, and yet out of it; so near the feast, and yet perishing for want of the living bread. The word is near you(ah, how near!), and yet you receive it not. Remember, I pray you, that merely to prepare for a Saviour is not to be saved; that to have a sense of sin is not the same thing as being pardoned. Your repentance, unless you also believe in Jesus, is a repentance that needs to be repented of. At the girdle of John the Baptist the keys of heaven did never hang; Elias is not the door of salvation; preparation for Christ is not Christ, despair is not regeneration, doubt is not repentance. Only by faith in Jesus can you be saved, but complaining of yourselves is not faith. "Jesus only" is the way, the truth, and the life. "Jesus only" is the sinner's Saviour. O that your eyes may be opened, not to see Elias, not to see Moses, but to see "Jesus only." You see, then, these three alternatives, but there was also another: a fourth thing might have happened when the disciples opened their eyes--they might have seen Moses and Elias with Jesus, even as in the transfiguration. At first sight it seems as if this would have been superior to that which they did enjoy. To walk down the mountain with that blessed trio, how great a privilege! How strong might they have been for the accomplishment of the divine purposes! Moses could preach the law and make men tremble, and then Jesus could follow with his gospel of grace and truth. Elias could flash the thunderbolt in their faces, and then Christ could have uplifted the humble spirits. Would not the contrast have been delightful, and the connection inspiriting? Would not the assemblage of such divers kinds of forces have contributed to the greatest success? I think not. It is a vastly better thing to see "Jesus only," as a matter of perpetuity, than to see Moses and Elias with Jesus. It is night, I know it, for I see the moon and stars. The morning cometh, I know it cometh, for I see no longer many stars, only one remains, and that the morning star. But the full day has arrived, I know it has, for I cannot even see the morning star; all those guardians and comforters of the night have disappeared; I see the sun only. Now, inasmuch as every man prefers the moon to midnight and to the twilight of dawn, the disappearance of Moses and Elias, indicating the full noontide of light, was the best thing that could happen. Why should we wish to see Moses? The ceremonials are all fulfilled in Jesus; the law is honored and fulfilled in him. Let Moses go, his light is already in "Jesus only." And why should I wish to retain Elias? The prophecies are all fulfilled in Jesus, and the preparation of which Elias preached Jesus brings with himself. Let, then, Elias go, his light also is in "Jesus only." It is better to see Moses and Elias in Christ, than to see Moses and Elias with Christ. The absence of some things betokens a higher state of things than their presence. In all my library I do not know that I have a Lennie's English Grammar, or a Mavor's Spelling Book, or a Henry's First Latin Exercises, nor do I regret the absence of those valuable works, because I have got beyond the need of them. So the Christian wants not the symbols of Moses, or the preparations of Elias, for Christ is all, and we are complete in him. He who is conversant with the higher walks of sacred literature and reads in the golden book of Christ's heart, may safely lay the legal school-book by; this was good enough for the church's infancy, but we have now put away childish things. "We, when we were children, were in bondage under the elements of the world: but when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ." My brethren, the principle may be carried still further, for even the most precious things we treasure here below will disappear when fully realized in heaven. Beautiful for situation was the temple on Mount Zion, and though we believe not in the sanctity of buildings under the gospel, we love the place of solemn meeting where we are accustomed to offer prayer and praise; but when we enter into perfection we shall find no temple in heaven. We delight in our Sabbaths, and we would not give them up. O may England never lose her Sabbaths! but when we reach the Jerusalem above, we shall not observe the first day of the week above the rest, for we shall enjoy one everlasting Sabbath. No temple, because all temple; and no Sabbath day, because all Sabbath in heaven. Thus, you see, the losing of some things is gain: it proves that we have got beyond their help. Just as we get beyond the nursery and all its appurtenances, and never regret it because we have become men, so do Moses and Elias pass away, but we do not miss them, for "Jesus only" indicates our manhood. It is a sign of a higher growth when we can see Jesus only. My brethren, much of this sort of thing takes place with all Christians in their spiritual life. Do you remember when you were first of all convinced and awakened, what a great deal you thought of the preacher, and how much of the very style in which he spoke the gospel! But now, though you delight to listen to his voice, and find that God blesses you through him, yet you have sunk the thought of the preacher in the glory of the Master, you see no man save "Jesus only." And as you grow in grace you will find that many doctrines and points of church government which once appeared to you to be all important, though you will still value them, will seem but of small consequence compared with Christ himself. Like the traveller ascending the Alps to reach the summit of Mont Blanc; at first he observes that lord of the hills as one born among many, and often in the twistings of his upward path he sees other peaks which appear more elevated than that monarch of mountains; but when at last he is near the summit, he sees all the rest of the hills beneath his feet, and like a mighty wedge of alabaster Mount Blanc pierces the very clouds. So, as we grow in grace, other things sink and Jesus rises. They must decrease, but Christ must increase; until he alone fills the full horizon of your soul, and rises clear and bright and glorious up into the very heaven of God. O that we may thus see "Jesus only!" II. Time hastens so rapidly, this morning, that I know not how I shall be able to compress the rest of my discourse into the allotted space. We must in the most rapid manner speak upon WHAT REALLY HAPPENED. "They saw no man, save Jesus only." This was all they wanted to see for their comfort. They were sore afraid: Moses was gone, and he could give them no comfort; Elias was gone, he could speak no consolatory word; yet when Jesus said, "Be not afraid," their fears vanished. All the comfort, then, that any troubled heart wants, it can find in Christ. Go not to Moses, nor Elias, neither to the old covenant, not to prophecy: go straight away to Jesus only. He was all the Saviour they wanted. Those three men all needed washing from sin; all needed to be kept and held on their way, but neither Moses nor Elias could have washed them from sin, nor have kept them from returning to it. But Jesus only could cleanse them, and did; Christ could lead them on, and did. Ah! brethren, all the Saviour we want, we find in Jesus only. The priests of Rome and their Anglican mimics officiously offer us their services. How glad they would be if we would bend our necks once again to their yoke! But we thank God we have seen "Jesus only," and if Moses has gone, and if Elias has gone, we are not likely to let the shavelings of Rome come in and fill up the vacancy. "Jesus only," is enough for our comfort, without either Anglican, Mosaic, or Roman priestcraft. He, again, was to them, as they went afterwards into the world, enough for a Master. "No man can serve two masters," and albeit, Moses and Elias might sink into the second rank, yet might there have been some difficulty in the follower's mind if the leadership were divided. But when they had no leader but Jesus, his guidance, his direction and command were quite sufficient. He, in the day of battle, was enough for their captain; in the day of difficulty, enough for their direction. They wanted none but Jesus. At this day, my brethren, we have no Master but Christ; we submit ourselves to no vicar of God; we bow down ourselves before no great leader of a sect, neither to Calvin, nor to Arminius, to Wesley, or Whitfield, "One is our Master," and that one is enough, for we have learned to see the wisdom of God and the power of God in Jesus only. He was enough as their power for future life, as well as their Master. They needed not ask Moses to lend them official dignity, nor to ask Elias to bring them fire from heaven: Jesus would give them of his Holy Spirit, and they should be strong enough for every enterprise. And, brethren, all the power you and I want to preach the gospel, and to conquer souls to the truth, we can find in Jesus only. You want no sacred State prestige, no pretended apostolical succession, no prelatical unction; Jesus will anoint you with his Holy Spirit, and you shall be plenteously endowed with power from on high, so that you shall do great things and prevail. "Jesus only." Why, they wanted no other motive to constrain them to use their power aright. It is enough incentive to a man to be allowed to live for such a one as Christ. Only let the thought of Christ fill the enlightened intellect, and it must conquer the sanctified affections. Let but Jesus be well understood as the everlasting God who bowed the heavens, and came down and suffered shame and ignominy, that he might redeem us from the wrath to come; let us get but a sight of the thorn-crowned head, and those dear eyes all red with weeping, and those sweet cheeks bruised and battered by the scoffer's fists; let us but look into the tender heart that was broken with griefs unutterable for our sakes, and the love of Christ must constrain us, and we shall thus "judge, that if one died for all, then were wll dead: and that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them and rose again." In the point of motive, believers do not need the aid of Moses. That you ought to do such a thing because otherwise you will be punished, will but little strengthen you, nor will you be much aided by the spirit of prophecy which leads you to hope that in the millennial period you will be made a ruler over many cities. It will be enough to you that you serve the Lord Christ; it suffices you if you may be enabled to honor him, to deck his crown, to magnify his name. Here is a stimulus sufficient for martyrs and confessors, "Jesus only." Brethren, it is all the gospel we have to preach--it is all the gospel we want to preach--it is the only ground of confidence which we have for ourselves; it is all the hope we have to set before others. I know that in this age there is an overweening desire for that which has the aspect of being intellectual, deep, and novel; and we are often informed that there are to be developments in religion, even as in science; and we are despised as being hardly men, certainly not thinking men, if we preach today what was preached two hundred years ago. Brethren, we preach to-day what was preached eighteen hundred years ago, and wherein others make alterations, they create deformities, and not improvements. We are not ashamed to avow that the old truth of Christ alone is everlasting; all else has gone or shall go, but the gospel towers above the wrecks of time: to us "Jesus only" remains as the sole topic of our ministry, and we want nothing else. For "Jesus only" shall be our reward, to be with him where he is, to behold his glory, to be like him when we shall see him as he is, we ask no other heaven. No other bliss can our soul conceive of. The Lord grant that we may have a fullness of this, and "Jesus only" shall be throughout eternity our delight. There was here space to have dilated at great length, but we have rather given you the heads of thought, than the thoughts themselves. Though the apostles saw "Jesus only," they saw quite sufficient, for Jesus is enough for time and eternity, enough to live by and enough to die by. III. I must close, though I fain would linger. Brethren, let us think of WHAT WE DESIRE MAY HAPPEN to all now present. I do desire for my fellow Christians and for myself, that more and more the great object of our thoughts, motives, and acts may be "Jesus only." I believe that whenever our religion is most vital, it is most full of Christ. Moreover, when it is most practical, downright, and common sense, it always gets nearest to Jesus. I can bear witness that whenever I am in deeps of sorrow, nothing will do for me but "Jesus only." I can rest in some degree in the externals of religion, its outward escarpments and bulwarks, when I am in health; but I retreat to the innermost citadel of our holy faith, namely, to the very heart of Christ, when my spirit is assailed by temptation, or besieged with sorrow and anguish. What is more, my witness is that whenever I have high spiritual enjoyments, enjoyments right, rare, celestial, they are always connected with Jesus only. Other religious things may give some kind of joy, and joy that is healthy too, but the sublimest, the most inebriating, the most divine of all joys, must be found in Jesus only. In fine, I find if I want to labor much, I must live on Jesus only; if I desire to suffer patiently, I must feed on Jesus only; if I wish to wrestle with God successfully, I must plead Jesus only; if I aspire to conquer sin, I must use the blood of Jesus only; if I pant to learn the mysteries of heaven, I must seek the teachings of Jesus only. I believe that any thing which we add to Christ lowers our position, and that the more elevated our soul becomes, the more nearly like what it is to be when it shall enter into the religion of the perfect, the more completely every thing else will sink, die out, and Jesus, Jesus, Jesus only, will be first and last, and midst and without end, the Alpha and Omega of every thought of head and pulse of heart. May it be so with every Christian. There are others here who are not yet believers in Jesus, and our desire is that this may happen to them, that they may see "Jesus only." "Oh," saith one, "Sir, I want to see my sins. My heart is very hard, and very proud; I want to see my sins." Friend, I also desire that you should, but I desire that you may see them not on yourself, but on Jesus only. No sight of sin ever brings such true humiliation of spirit as when the soul sees its sins laid on the Saviour. Sinner, I know you have thought of sins as lying on yourself, and you have been trying to feel their weight, but there is a happier and better view still. Sin was laid on Jesus, and it made him to be covered with a bloody sweat; it nailed him to the cross; it made him cry, "Lama Sabachthani;" it bowed him into the dust of death. Why, friend, if you see sin on Jesus you will hate it, you will bemoan it, you will abhor it. You need not look evermore to sin as burdening yourself, see Jesus only, and the best kind of repentance will follow. "Ah, but," saith another, "I want to feel my need of Christ more." You will see your need all the better if you look at Jesus only. Many a time an appetite for a thing is created by the sight of it. Why, there are some of us who can hardly be trusted in a bookseller's shop, because though we might have done very well at home without a certain volume, we no sooner see it than we are in urgent need of it. So often is it with some of you about other matters, so that it becomes most dangerous to let you see, because you want as soon as you see. A sight of Jesus, of what he is to sinners, of what he makes sinners, of what he is in himself, will more tend to make you feel your need of him than all your poring over your poor miserable self. You will get no further there, look to "Jesus only." "Ay," saith another, "but I want to read my title clear, I want to know that I have an interest in Jesus." you will best read your interest in Christ, by looking at him. If I want to know whether a certain estate is mine, do I look into my own heart to see if I have a right to it? But I look into the archives of the estate, I search testaments and covenants. Now, Christ Jesus is God's covenant with the people, a leader and commander to the people. To-day, I personally can read my title clear to heaven, and shall I tell you how I read it? Not because I feel all I wish to feel, nor because I am what I hope I yet shall be, but I read in the word that "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners," I am a sinner, even the devil cannot tell me I am not. O precious Saviour, then thou hast come to save such as I am. Then I see it written again, "He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved." I have believed, and have been baptized; I know I trust alone in Jesus, and that is believing. As surely then as there is a God in heaven I shall be in heaven one day. It must be so, because unless God be a liar, he that believeth must be saved. You see it is not by looking within, it is by looking to Jesus only that you perceive at last your name graven on his hands. I wish to have Christ's name written on my heart, but if I want assurance, I have to look at his heart till I see my name written there. O turn your eye away from your sin and your emptiness to his righteousness and his fullness. See the sweat drops bloody as they fall in Gethsemane, see his heart pierced and pouring out blood and water for the sins of men upon Calvary! There is life in a look at him! O look to him, and though it be Jesus only, though Moses should condemn you, and Elias should alarm you, yet "Jesus only" shall be enough to comfort and enough to save you. May God grant us grace every one of us to take for our motto in life, for our hope in death, and for our joy in eternity, "Jesus only." May God bless you for the sake of "Jesus only." Amen. PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON--Matthew 17. __________________________________________________________________ Individual Sin Laid On Jesus (No. 925) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, APRIL 10, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned, every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Isaiah 53:6. I THINK I addressed you from this text four years ago, ("Sin Laid on Jesus," No. 694, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit), but I feel quite safe in returning to it, for we shall never exhaust it. It is a verse so wealthy in meaning that if I had, during the whole four years, dilated upon it every Sunday, it would be my fault if the theme were stale. On this occasion I desire mainly to draw attention to a part of the text upon which little was said on the former occasion. The vine is the same, but we shall gather clusters from a bough ungleaned before. The jewels are the same, but we will place them in another light and view them from another angle. May God grant that some who derived no comfort from our former word may be led to find peace and salvation in Christ this morning. The Lord in His infinite mercy grant it may be so. I shall first give a general exposition of the text. Then in the second place I shall dwell upon the special doctrine which I wish to teach. And then, thirdly, we shall draw from that special doctrine a special lesson. I. First, we will GIVE A GENERAL EXPOSITION OF THE TEXT. "All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned, every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." The text naturally breaks itself up into these three heads--a confession general to all penitents--"All we like sheep have gone astray." A personal confession peculiar to each one, "We have turned, every one to his own way." And then, the august doctrine of Substitution, which is the very soul and spirit of the entire Gospel, "The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Our exposition, then, begins with the confession which is universal to all penitents--it is acknowledged here by the persons speaking who call themselves "all we"--that they all had, like sheep, broken the hedge of God's Law, forsaken their good and ever blessed Shepherd, and wandered into paths perilous and pernicious. A comparison is here used, and its use shows that the confession was a thoughtful one and not a matter of careless form. Man is here compared to a beast--for sin brings out the animal part of us. And while holiness allies us to angels--sin degrades us to brutes. We are not likened to one of the more noble and intelligent animals, but to a silly sheep. All sin is folly. All sinners are fools. Sheep are dishonored by the comparison here used, for with all their silliness they have never been known to rush into the fire after having felt the flame. You will observe that the creature selected for comparison is one that cannot live without care and attention. There is no such thing as a wild sheep. There could not long be sheep unless they were tended and cared for by a shepherd. The creature's happiness, its safety and very existence, all depend upon its being under a nurture and care far above its own. Yet for all that, the sheep strays from the shepherd. Man's happiness lies in being under the direction of the Lord, in being obedient to God, in being in communion with God. Departure from God is death to all his highest interests, destruction to all his best prospects. Yet for all that, as the sheep goes astray, even so does man. The sheep is a creature exceedingly quick-witted upon the one matter of going astray. If there is but one gap in the hedge, the sheep will find it. If there is but one possibility out of five hundred that by any means the flock shall wander, one of the flock will be quite certain to discover that possibility--and all its companions will avail themselves of it. So is it with man. He is quick of understanding for evil things. God made man upright, but he has sought out many inven-tions--the inventions being all to destroy his own uprightness and to do despise to the Law of God. And that very creature which is so quick-witted to wander is the least likely of all animals to return. The ox knows its owner, and the ass knows its master's crib. Even the swine that will wander by day will return to the trough by night, and the dog will scent out his master over many a mile. But not so the sheep. Sharp as it is to discover opportunities for going astray, it seems to be bereft of all wit or will to come back to the fold. And such is man-- wise to do evil--but foolish towards that which is good. With a hundred eyes, like Argus, he searches out opportunities for sinning. But, like Bartimeus, he is stone blind as to repentance and a return to God. The sheep goes astray, it is said, all the more frequently when it is most dangerous for it to do so. Propensities to stray seem to be developed in the very proportion in which they ought to be subdued. Whereas in our own land a sheep might wander with some safety, it wanders less in the Oriental plains, where for it to go astray is to run risks from leopards and wolves. Those very men who ought to be most careful, and who are placed in positions where it is best for them to be scrupulous, are those who are most prone to follow after evil--and with heedless carelessness to leave the way of Truth. The sheep goes astray ungratefully. It owes everything to the shepherd, and yet forsakes the hand that feeds it and heals its diseases. The sheep goes astray repeatedly. If restored today it may not stray today if it cannot, but it will tomorrow if it can. The sheep wanders further and further, from bad to worse. It is not content with the distance it has reached, it will go yet greater lengths. There is no limit to its wandering except its weakness. Do you not see you own selves, my Brethren, as in a mirror? From Him that has blessed you, you have gone astray. To Him you owe your all, and yet from Him you continually depart. Your sins are not occasional--they are constant. Your wanderings are not slight, but you wander further and further--and were it not for restraining Grace which has prevented your footsteps--you would have wandered even now to the utmost extremities of guilt and utterly destroyed your souls. "All we like sheep have gone astray." What? Is there not one faithful soul? Alas, no! "There is none that does good, no, not one." Search the ranks of the blessed in Heaven and there is not one saint before the Throne who will boast that when on earth he never sinned. Search the Church of God below and there is not one, however closely he walks with God, but must confess that he has erred and strayed from God's ways like a lost sheep. Vain is the man who refuses to confess this--for his hypocrisy or his pride, whichever may be the cause of such a base lie--proves that he is not one of God's chosen. The chosen of God unanimously, mournfully, but heartily take up this cry, "All we like sheep have gone astray." A general confession, then, is uttered in our text. This confession by the mass is backed up by a personal acknowledgment from each one, "We have turned, every one to his own way." Sin is general but yet special. All are sinners, but each one is a sinner with an emphasis. No man has of himself turned to God's way, but in every case each one has chosen "his own way." The very gist of sin lies in our setting up our own way in opposition to the way and will of God. We have all done so, we have all aspired to be our own masters, we have all desired to follow our own inclinations and have not submitted ourselves to the will of God. The text implies that each man has his own peculiarity and special sin. All are diseased, but not all precisely with the same form of disease. It is well, my Brothers and Sisters, if each of us, in examining himself, has found out what is his own peculiar transgression. It is well to know what evil weeds flourish most readily in the soil of our heart--what wild beast that is most native to the forests of our soul. Many have felt that their peculiar sin was so remarkably evil and so surpassingly vile that it separated them altogether from the common rank of sinners. They felt that their iniquities were unique, and like lone peaks, lifted themselves defiantly towards the pure heavens of God provoking the fiercest thunderbolts of wrath. Such persons have almost been driven to despair under the belief that they were peculiarly great sinners--as Paul puts it--the very chief of sinners. I should not wonder if this feeling which each one imagines to be peculiar to himself may have come over very many of us, and the shadow of despair may for awhile have fallen upon very many of us. It is no unusual thing for an awakened conscience to feel its own sinfulness to be above measure and parallel, the worst that has ever defiled mankind. This special sin happens to be the point to which I desire to call to your attention. I wish to show that the atoning sacrifice of Christ not only applies to sin in general, since "all we like sheep have gone astray," but applies to special sin, for "we have turned, every one to his own way." I pass over it slightly now and introduce you further in the exposition of the text, to what I called the august doctrine of the Substitution of Christ, "The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." We have seen the confession of sin made by the mass. We lightly touched the peculiar confession made by each awakened individual--put all these together and you see a mass of sin--did I say you see it? It is a mass of sin too great to be beheld by the human understanding--an enormous load of iniquity against God. What is to be done with the offenders? The only thing that can be done with them, in the ordinary rule of justice, is to punish them for their offenses. And that punishment must be such as was threatened--indignation, wrath, destruction, death. That God should punish sin is not a matter of impulse with Him. It was not with Him an alternative as to whether He might or might not punish sin. We speak always with holy awe when we speak of anything concerning Him, but with reverence we say it was not possible that God should wink at the iniquity of man. It was not possible that He should treat it with indifference. His attribute of Justice, which is as undoubtedly a part of His Glory as His attribute of Love, required that sin should be punished. Moreover, as God had been pleased to make a moral universe to be governed by laws, there would be an end of all government if the breaking of those laws involved no penalty whatever. If, after the great King of all the earth had promulgated a Law, with certain penalties annexed to the breach of it, He did not cause those penalties to be exacted, there would be an end to the whole system of His government. The foundations would be removed. And if the foundations are removed, what shall the righteous do? It is infinitely benevolent of God, I will venture to say, to cast evil men into Hell. If that is thought to be a hard and strange statement, I reply that inasmuch as there is sin in the world, it is no benevolence to tolerate so great an evil. It is the highest benevolence to do all that can be done to restrain the horrible pest. It would be far from benevolent for our government to throw wide the doors of all the jails, to abolish the office of the judge, to suffer every thief and every offender of every kind to go unpunished. Instead of mercy it would be cruelty. It might be mercy to the offender, but it would be intolerable injustice towards the upright and inoffensive. God's very benevolence demands that the detestable rebellion of sin against His supreme authority should be put down with a firm hand, that men may not flatter themselves that they can do evil and yet go unpunished. The necessities of moral government require that sin must be punished. The effeminate and sentimental talkers of this boastful age represent God as though He had no attribute but that of gentleness, no virtue but that of indifference to evil. But the God of the Bible is glorious in holiness! He will by no means spare the guilty. At His bar every transgression is meted out its just recompense or reward. Even in the New Testament, where stands that golden sentence, "God is Love," His other attributes are by no means cast into the shade. Read the burning words of Peter, or James, or Jude, and see how the God of Sabaoth abhors evil! As the God who must do right, the Lord cannot shut His eyes to the iniquities of man. He must visit transgression with its punishment. He has done it, has done it terribly, and He will continue to do it. Even to all eternity He will show Himself the God that hates iniquity and sin. What, then, is to become of man? "All we like sheep have gone astray." Sin must be punished. What, then, can become of us? Infinite Love has devised the expedient of representation and substitution. I call it an expedient, for we can only use the language of men. You remember, Brothers and Sisters, that you and I fell originally from our first estate by no act of our own--we, all of us, fell in the first Adam's transgression. Now, had we fallen individually and personally, in the first place, apart from another, it may be that our fall would have been hopeless. As the fall of the apostate angels, who having sinned one by one and not representatively, are reserved in chains of darkness forever under the condemnation and wrath of God--so might we have been. But inasmuch as the first fountain of evil came to us through our parent, Adam, there remained for God a loophole through which His Divine love might enter without violation of Justice. The principle of representation wrecked us-- the same principle of representation rescues us. Jesus Christ the Son of God becomes a Man and re-heads the race. He becomes the second Adam, obeys the Law of God, bears the penalty of sin, and now stands as the Head of all those who are in Him! And who are these but such as repent of sin and put their trust in Him? These get out of the old headship of the first Adam where they fell, and through the atoning sacrifice are cleansed from all personal guilt, brought into union with the second Adam, and stand again in Him, abiding forever in acceptance and felicity! See, then, how it is that God has been pleased to deliver His people. It has been through carrying out a principle with which the very system of the universe commenced, namely, that of representation. I repeat it, had we been always and altogether separate units, there might have been no possibility of our salvation. But though every man sins separately, and the second clause of our text confesses that fact, yet we all sin in connection with others. For instance, who shall deny that each man receives propensities to sin from his parents, and that we transmit peculiarities of sin to our own children? We stand in connection with race, and there are sins of races peculiar to races and to nationalities. We are never put on a probation of entire separation--we always stand in connection with others, and God has availed Himself of this, which I called a loophole, to bring in salvation for us by virtue of our union with another Man, who is also more than Man--the Son of God and yet the son of Mary--the Infinite who once became an Infant. The Eternal who lived, and bled, and died as the representative of all who put their trust in Him. Now you will say, perhaps, that still, albeit this might have been at the bottom of the whole system of moral government, you do not quite see the justice of it. The reply to that remark is this--if God sees the justice of it you ought to be content with it. He was against whom every sin was aimed. And if He pleased to gather up the whole bundle of the sin of His people and say to His Beloved Son, "I will visit You for all these," and if Jesus, our Representative, joyously consented to bear our sins as our Representative--who are you and who am I that we should enter any caveat against what God the infinitely just One consents to accept? The text does not say that our sins were laid on Christ Jesus by accident, but, "the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." We sing sometimes, "I lay my sins on Jesus." That is a very sweet act of faith, but at the bottom of it there is another laying, namely, that act in which it pleased the Lord to lay our sins on Jesus. Apart from the Lord's doing it, our sins could never have been transferred to the Redeemer. The Lord is so just that we dare not think of examining His verdicts. He is so infinitely pure and holy that what He does we accept as being necessarily right. And inasmuch as we derive such blessed results from the Divine plan of Substitution, far be it from us to raise any question concerning it! Jesus was accepted as the natural Substitute and Representative of all those who trust Him, and all the sins of these were laid on Him so that they were freed from guilt. Jesus was regarded as if all these sins were His sins. He was punished as if these were His sins. He was put to shame, forsaken of God, and delivered to death as if He had been a sinner. And thus, through Divine Grace, those who actually committed the sins are permitted to go free. They have satisfied justice through the sufferings of their Substitute. Beloved Brethren, the most fit Person to be a Substitute for us was Christ Jesus. And why? Because He had been pleased to take us, His people, into union with Himself. If He were our Head, and He had made us to be members of His Body, who more fit to suffer for the body than the Head? If He had, and Scripture tells us so, entered into a mysterious conjugal union with us, who more fit to suffer for the spouse than her Husband? Christ is Man, therefore His fitness and adaptation to be a Substitute for man. The creature that sins must be the creature that suffers--man breaks God's Law--and man must honor it. As by man came death, by Man also must come the resurrection from the dead--and Jesus Christ was undoubtedly Man of the substance of His mother. He was fit to be our Substitute because He was a pure Man. He had no offense in Him. Neither Satan, nor the more searching eye of God could find any evil in Him. He was under no obligation to the Law except as He put Himself under the Law. He owed nothing to the great moral Governor until He voluntarily became a subject of His moral government on our behalf. Therefore, being without obligation Himself--having no debts of His own--He was fit to take upon Himself our liabilities. And as He was under no obligations for Himself, He was a fitting One to become under obligations for us. Moreover, He did all this voluntarily, and His fitness much lies here. If a substitute should be dragged to death for us unwillingly, if such could be the case, an injustice would be perpetrated in the very act. But Jesus Christ, taking up His Cross, and going forth willingly to suffer for us, proved His fitness to redeem us. Once more--His being God as well as Man, gave the strength to suffer--gave Him the power to stoop. If He had not been so lofty as to be Fellow with the eternal God, He would not have stooped so low as to redeem us, but -- "From the highest Throne in Glory To the Cross of deepest woe," was such a descent that there was an infinite merit in it. When He stooped, even to the grave itself, there was an infinite merit by which Justice was satisfied, the Law was vindicated, and those for whom He died were effectually saved. I do not want to proceed to the other point until everyone here has got the thought, and grasped it, and received it. We have gone astray, but the straying of as many of us as believe, were laid on Christ. We have each chosen our own way of sin, but those sins are not ours now--they are laid on our great Substitute--if we are trusting in Him. He has paid to the utmost farthing all the debt of those sins. He has borne the fullness of Divine wrath, and there is no wrath against us. Just as the bullock was laid on the altar to be burnt, God's wrath came like consuming fire and burnt the bullock, and there was no fire left. So when the wrath of God fell on Christ, it consumed Him, and there was no fire left, no wrath left--it spent itself. God has no anger against a soul that believes in Jesus. Neither has that soul any sin, for its sin has been laid on Christ, and it cannot be in two places at once--Christ has carried it and the sin has ceased to be. The believing soul, though in itself as black as Hell, is now as bright as Christ Himself when He was transfigured, for Christ has finished transgression, made an end of sin, and brought in everlasting righteousness. Thus we conclude our general exposition of the verse. II. I now desire for a short time, but with all the earnestness of my soul, to dwell on THE SPECIAL DOCTRINE taught in the central clause of the text--"We have turned, every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Each man and each woman, from a natural difference of constitution, from the variations in education, and from the diversities of circumstances, has sinned somewhat differently from every other. Two brothers educated by the same parents will yet display diversities of transgression. No man treads exactly in the same footsteps as another, and some take roads which, though equally wrong, are diametrically opposite. One turns to the right hand, and another to the left, both equally renouncing the onward path. Now, the glory of the text that I want to bring out is this--that if you believe in Jesus Christ, this special sin of yours was laid on Him, as well as all those other sins in which you stand on an equality with your fellow men. There was a publican--he had been a common, gross offender--rough and harsh to his brother Jews in demanding an inordinate tax. He was a man of low habits, indulging in drunkenness, fornication, and other defilements. Yet when that publican went up to the house of God and said, "God be merciful to me a sinner," the Atonement just met the publican's iniquity, and exactly took away the publican's transgression. But, on the other hand, there was a Pharisee--the opposite of the publican--proud and self-righteous, not submitting himself to the righteousness of God. He considered himself to be in all things better than other men. But remember that when he fell off his horse as he was riding to Damascus, and heard a voice that said, "Why do you persecute Me?" that very same Pharisee said, "God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." There was in Christ precisely that which met the Pharisee's sin. In our Lord's day there were Sadducees, too--that is, men who said there was neither angel nor spirit They were infidels, skeptics, free-thinkers--your Broad Church sinners. Now these men neither went into coarse transgression with the publican nor into superstition with the Pharisee, but they had their direct antagonism to the Truth of God. And I doubt not cases occurred to prove that in the pardoning blood of Christ the Sadducee's case was met. No matter in what peculiar direction any one of the Lord's sheep has gone astray, the Lord has laid that particular straying upon the Savior. I want to speak, now, so as to fetch forth some individuals here this morning. It may be that one here today is saying, "I sinned against an early Christian training. No one ever had a better mother or a more tender father. I knew the Word of God, like Timothy, from my youth--but I did despite to all this teaching and sinned with aggravation of infamy. I sinned against the clearest light." Brothers and Sisters, your sin is very great, but the Lord has laid on Jesus your iniquity. Look to the Cross, and see it laid there. "Yes," says another, "but I have had the strivings of God's Spirit. In addition to an early Christian education, I have sat under an earnest Gospel ministry. I have often been impressed. I have been driven to my chamber to pray, but I have quenched the holy emotions, and have continued in sin." O guilty One, the Lord has laid on His dear Son your iniquity! Can you look to Jesus now and trust Christ--"The Lamb of God which takes away the sin of the world"? Then this offense of yours against the Holy Spirit is put away. "But," says another, "I am conscious of having had naturally a remarkable tenderness of spirit. From my early childhood I knew right from wrong, and when I sinned it cost me much trouble to sin. I have had to wound my conscience before I could speak an ill word, or commit an evil action." Ah, my Brethren, that is a very condemning thing, to sin against a tender conscience. It is a great benefit, and in this age a very unusual benefit, to have much sensitiveness and delicacy of moral constitution. And if you have violated it, it is certainly a great transgression. But though, "we have turned, every one to his own way, the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Let no despairing thought come upon you as though this sin were unpardonable. The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin." Look, now, by faith to Jesus, and you shall find that your sin is blotted out. There may be one in this place who says, "Sir, I committed a sin under certain remarkable circumstances which I would not, could not, mention. But the remembrance of that one sin rankles in my soul at this hour. If I had not deliberately, and with malice aforethought, having not the fear of God before my eyes, chosen that sin, there might have been hope--but that sin, like a millstone, is about my neck and will sink me forever and ever." Look, Soul! Can you see Christ on the Cross? Will you now confide in Him? If so, though your sins are as scarlet they shall be as wool, though they are red like crimson they shall be as snow. I know not what your sin may have been, but if it were murder itself, if you would now trust the Son of God, your sin should vanish quite away from you, and you should be clean, clean every whit, before the all-seeing Eyes of Eternal Justice. O that you would believe, and this should be true to you. "No," cries another, "but mine has been a life of peculiarly gross sin. I would not have my character unmasked before this congregation on any account." Consider then, my Friend, what it will be to have it published before a greater congregation, before the entire universe! "Ah," you say, "I fear my condemnation is certain, for my transgressions have not been those of thought, merely, but of act. The members of my body have been the instruments of uncleanness." Listen, I pray, "All manner of sin and of iniquity shall be forgiven unto men." There is no sin so black, save only one, but it may find forgiveness. Yes, and without exception, there is no sin that is possible to man but what it shall be forgiven to any man who comes to Christ, and with simple trust, does cast himself on Him. Your extreme evil was laid on Christ. Though you have turned unto your own way, yet this, too, was laid on Him. Do I not hear, here and there in the congregation, hearts sighing out, "He does not strike my case yet! Mine has not been gross sin, but I have hardened my heart. I used to feel at one time I had great drawings towards the Lord Jesus, but I gave Him up. I have backslidden. I have from time to time rejected Gospel invitations, until now, at last, the Lord has sworn in His wrath that I shall not enter into His rest. My transgressions have gone over my head like overflowing waters, I sink in them as in deep mire where there is no standing." Yes, but Soul, I must bring you back to the text. You have turned to your own way, but, if you believe, the Lord has laid on Jesus even this iniquity, also. If you will trust Him, your hardenings of heart shall now be forgiven you. You are not too late--the gate of Mercy still stands wide open. If you trust in Jesus, this iniquity shall be blotted out. "Alas," says another, "but I have been a hypocrite. I have come to the Lord's Table, and yet I have never had an interest in Christ. I have been baptized, but yet I never had true faith." Well, now, I will say this to end all matters--if you have perpetrated all the sins that ever were committed by men or devils. If you have defiled yourself with all the blackness that could be raked out of the lowermost kennels of Hell. If you have spoken the most damnable blasphemies and followed the most outrageous vices--yet Jesus Christ is an infinite Savior, and nothing can exceed the merit of His precious blood! "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's dear Son, cleanses us from all sin." Can you believe this? Can you do Christ the honor to believe this, and come and crouch at the feet that once were pierced? Ah, Man, you shall find mercy now, and you shall clap your hands and say, "He has blotted out my sins like a cloud, and like a thick cloud my iniquities." I am afraid I do not convey to you the pleasure of my own soul in turning over this thought, but it has charmed me beyond measure. Here were Lot's sins, scandalous sins. I cannot mention them--they were very different from David's sins. Black sins, scarlet sins, were those of David, but David's sins are not at all like those of Manasseh. The sins of Ma-nasseh were not the same as those of Peter--Peter sinned in quite a different track. And the woman that was a sinner, you could not liken her to Peter. And if you look to her character you could not set her side by side with Lydia. Nor if you think of Lydia, can you see her without discovering a great divergence between her and the Philippian jailer. They are all alike. They have all gone Astray. But they are all different, they have turned, every one to his own way. But here is the blessed gathering up of them all! The Lord has made to meet on the Redeemer, as in a common focus, the iniquity of all these! And up yonder Magdalena's song joins sweetly with that of the woman who was a sinner. And Lydia, chaste, but yet needing pardon, sings side by side with Bathsheba and Rahab--while David takes up the strain with Samson and with Gideon! And these with Abraham and with Isaac--all differently sinners--but the Atonement meeting every case. We always think that man a quack, who advertises a medicine as healing every disease. But when you come to the great Gospel medicine--the precious blood of Jesus Christ--you have there in very deed what the old doctors used to call a catholicon, a universal medicine. It meets every case in its distinctness It puts away sin in all its separateness of guilt as if it were made for that sin, and for that sin, alone. III. My time has gone, and therefore I must close with this, A SPECIAL DUTY ARISING OUT OF THE SPECIAL DOCTRINE. My dear Brothers and Sisters, if in my discourse I have at all described you, or if not having described you, I have yet from that very reason indicated you as an indescribable, look to Christ and find mercy! And then ever afterwards make it a rule with your soul that as you have been a special sinner you will have special love and special gratitude, and do your Lord special service. Oh, if it takes twenty times the Grace to save me than it does another, then I will render to my Savior twenty times the love and twenty times the service. If I am an out-of-the-way straying sheep, peculiarly and specially black, defiled and disgraced--then if He loves me I will go upon this rule--that having had much forgiven I will love much. Brothers and Sisters, I wish you did feel, I wish I did feel, more and more the peculiarity of the weight of our personal sin, for I am sure it is the way to drive us into manliness of Christian service. If you perform homage to Christ as one of a crowd, you do but little, and that little badly. For eminent service you need to get away from the crowd and serve the Lord personally by yourself, and as an individual. Get alone, I mean in a sense of obligation. Separate yourself, as if you were a marked man, and must serve Jesus Christ in a marked way. The separation of pride is detestable, but individuality of service is admirable. Those who stand steadily in the rank and file do well, but those who step forward to lead the forlorn hope do better. O for more Davids to come forth and say, "Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?" O that the Christian Church had more self-sacrificing men, like old Curtius, who, when there is a chasm to fill up, leaps into it and feels it an honor to be swallowed up for Christ's sake and the Truth's sake. O for many a Christian who, like the Roman hero, will hold his hand in the fire if need be, and flinch not, feeling that all suffering were little to bear for one who bled for us. We want more consecrated men. May God raise them up. And He will if you who feel your special sinnership find special mercy--and then render to God special returns. It has struck me that we need more and more in the pulpit, and in the pew, individuality in our Christian experience and service. You see, we are all individuals in sinning, we have turned, every one to his own way, and yet many Christian people want to have their experience modeled after the example of someone else. They do not like to grow like God's trees in the forest, with their gnarled roots and twisted boughs. They want to be clipped like Dutch trees into one uniform stiffness. Why, you lose the beauty of Christianity when you lose the individuality of Christians! In preaching and Sunday school teaching, and everything else, the tendency is to go too much to ill ruts and grooves. One might fancy that men and women were made by machinery, like pens at Birmingham, all of a sort. We would have every man in Grace as individual as he was in sin. We need the originality of saintly life as well as of sinnership. It were well if a Christian man would step out of the beaten track and carry out his individuality and be what God especially meant him to be. Brethren, there is a part of this world which can never get a blessing except through you. Christ has power over all flesh, and He has given His servants power over their little portions of that great mass. All the ministers that ever lived cannot bring to Christ those souls whom God has ordained that I shall be the means of turning to Christ. And neither I, nor my Brethren, preach as we may, can bring to Christ the man whom God has ordained to save through yonder obscure village preacher who is now standing on a log on the village green, or holding forth in a wooden shed in the backwoods of America. There is a place for every man--and the way for every man to find that out is to be himself and nobody else. As he used to be himself when he was a sinner, so let him be himself now he has become a saint, and follow out, under God's guidance, the movements of his own individualities, the singularities of his own nature. Do not think about planing off your edges and getting rid of the points God has made in you distinct from other men. It will never do. You lose of Christianity the very beauty and excellence if you do this. Your fine critics would have Rowland Hill preach like Thomas Chalmers--Rowland Hill must never utter a witticism in the pulpit, yet he could not be Rowland Hill if he did not. He must, therefore, be transformed into someone else, for these superfine gentlemen will not allow that Rowland Hill as Rowland Hill can honor God. Wisdom will be of all her children. Whether you speak with the learning of Apollos, or with the eloquence of a Paul, or with the blunt homeliness of a Cephas, the Lord will get to Himself honor, if you speak sincerely. And it is not for Paul to mimic Cephas, nor for Cephas to copy Apollos. As we have turned, every one to his own way, and our peculiar sin has been laid on Christ, so let each Believer now, in his own way, under the direction of Christ, seek to serve his Lord and Master. My great practical lesson from it is this--you are always seeing new inventions in the world, men are evermore bringing out some new system or scheme. We tunnel the earth, we split the clouds, we speak by lightning, we ride on the wings of the wind. But in the Christian Church how few inventors we have! Robert Raikes invented the Sunday school. John Pounds invented Ragged schools--have we come to the end of gracious ingenuity? Oh, if we loved Christ better, every man would invent something--he would have a mode of action growing out of his own peculiar capacities. He would feel that God meant to meet a case by him that would never be met by anybody else. Men are all alive about this world, and all asleep about the world to come. I would urge you each to have a mission, to espouse a work, to obtain a calling. Ask God not to put you into the Sunday school as a matter of mere Providence, but as a matter of special ordination. And if you are ordained to be a Sunday school teacher, ask Him to put you into some particular class, not as by an accident, but as a special sphere for your special character and taste, and mode of thought, and manner of action. Follow, as God the Holy Spirit shall help you, the promptings of the Divine life that God has put within you. And as you served Satan with all your individuality, even so serve Him upon whom the Lord of old did lay your iniquity. The Lord bless you for Christ's sake. __________________________________________________________________ The Sine Qua Non (No. 926) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, APRIL 17, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Jesus answered him, If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me." John 13:8. IN matchless condescension our Lord had girt Himself as a servant, and was washing the feet of the disciples. Peter, struck with such a spectacle, would not allow his Lord to act as a menial, and flatly refused to have his feet washed by his Master. But he changed his mind at once when he was told that a refusal to receive this act of kindness from his Lord would be a virtual rejection of all part in Him, "If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me." I do not think our Lord here was thinking so much of the literal washing, as of that which the outward ablution was meant to represent. This is clear when we remember that our Lord replied to Peter concerning this washing, "What I do you know not now. But you shall know hereafter." Now as to the literal washing, Peter knew all about it, and there was nothing to be explained except its inner meaning, and spiritual teaching. This it was that Peter did not then know, and was afterwards to learn. Our Lord, therefore, evidently referred not so much to the actual foot-washing, as to the spiritual washing, which is absolutely essential to all His people. Remember, too, that the mere cleansing of the feet did not involve union to Christ, for the feet of Judas were washed, and our Lord did not at all mean that Judas should imagine that he had any part with the Lord whom he was resolved to betray. The traitor was numbered among the disciples, and therefore he partook of the outward ordinance, but it did not convey to him any spiritual interest in Christ Jesus. Therefore we conclude that the foot-washing was only secondarily important. Yet we deny not that our Lord did mean so much about this mere outward washing, that had Peter obstinately refused to yield to it, he would have proved himself to have had no true loyalty of heart, and consequently no part in Christ. Any act of direct and intentional rebellion against Christ's authority, obstinately and knowingly continued in, would be a sure token that the person guilty of it was no true partaker with Christ. How shall I be His servant if I willfully reject any one of His commands? How can I consider myself to be truly a Christian while my will is rebellious, and refuses to submit to the express orders of my Lord? Let us consider this as professors, and practice instant obedience. Never let us obstinately refuse obedience to a command because it seems to us to be nonessential or trivial. We are not to be judges but servants. No motive can excuse disobedience. Let us ask for Divine Grace that as soon as ever we see a sin to be sin we may shun it, and as soon as we perceive a duty to be a duty we may at once practice it, and never be guilty of any willful rebellion, since that might prove us to be without Christ. However, I still believe that Christ's main teaching in my text referred not to the washing with water, but to the cleansing of our spiritual nature by His precious blood and by His Eternal Spirit. In this sense read again the words, "If I do not wash you, you have no, part with Me." I. First suffer me to occupy your thoughts a few minutes with THE GREAT OBJECT OF OUR DESIRE. Our great object is to have a part in Jesus Christ. I am addressing myself, for the most part, to those who regularly hear the Word, and who have a respect for the name of Jesus, and a longing to be saved with His salvation. I hope there is not one among us who would consider it a barren honor to have a part with Christ, nor one who would think it to be a small calamity to be deprived of his part with Jesus the Son of God. Brethren, you and I desire to have part in the merit of His righteousness. We have no righteousness of our own, but we desire that He should be the Lord our Righteousness, that in His righteousness arrayed we should not be found naked in the day of the great wedding feast, but with the wedding garment on may sit down to the marriage supper. We desire to have a part in His death. Jesus died that He might make atonement for guilt, and we desire a part in His atoning sacri- fice. We are guilty. Our heart yearns to be washed in the blood, to be cleansed by that expiation, and to stand before the Lord accepted in the Beloved. We hope that the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world will give us a part in His sin-removing power. We believe in His Resurrection, and our prayer is that we may have part in it--because He rose we also may rise, and may forever, both in body and in soul, enjoy eternal blessedness. Our faith has seen the Crucified One ascending to the skies, and we desire a part in His ascension, to share in the blessings which He received for rebellions men when He led captivity captive. Yes, and before long to tread that same starry way, and enter into the rest where He is, and behold the Glory which God has given to Him. We aspire to share in His intercession. Before the Father's Throne He presents His ever-accepted supplication, and we trust that He pleads for us that blessings numberless may descend upon us unworthy ones. We were wretched, indeed, if we had not a persuasion that we share a part in the pleadings of our great High Priest. We trust our name is engraved on one of the precious stones of His breastplate, and is so borne before God. Moreover, we know that Christ sits at the right hand of God as King, all things being delivered into His hands, and we desire to have a part with Him in His kingdom, to be partakers of the peace which His scepter brings--yes, and to be ourselves made kings to reign with Him. Moreover, we expect His second advent. In the same manner as He went up to Heaven, in that same manner will He descend, with the trump of the archangel and the voice of God, in His own proper Person actually and really, not in myth and phantom, but in very deed. As He is gone from us, so shall He come again, and then will He take to Himself all power, and reign from the river even unto the ends of the earth. We hope to participate in the glory of His appearing and kingdom. Whatever the Millennium may be, whatever the splendor of the latter day, our aspiration is that we may have a part with Christ in all these things. We would not shun His Cross, for we desire His crown. We would not desert Him in His humiliation, for we hope to attend Him in His triumph. We would cheerfully go forth without the camp and bear the reproach for His sake, for we hope to stand among the camp of the faithful ones when the crowns of immortality shall be distributed. Our soul's deepest desire is that we may have a part with Christ. My dear Brethren, I hope most of us here present know what it is to have a part in Christ, for we were elect in Him from before the foundation of the world. We have been make partakers of His Spirit, and have been brought into union with Him. We have submitted ourselves to His government. We are looking to Him for our salvation. We have a part with Him as members of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones--a part with Him as branches in the vine, as stones in the temple. We are serving under His banner in the same holy war, and laborers in the same sacred service. We have a part with Him as His friends and as His chosen whom He has admitted into the most familiar communion with Himself. We are much deceived if this is not the case. But if it, indeed, is so, we feel that the blessed fact is altogether due to Divine Grace, and it could never have been so if we had not first been washed. If we have not as yet participated in the blessings which come to us through Christ, we know, this morning, for the text tells us, that we must be washed before we can have a part with Him. Brethren, we desire to be sons as He is a Son. We wish to be heirs as He is an Heir. We pant to be accepted as He is accepted. We aspire to be, before long, glorified as He is glorified. This is a blessing worthy of the utmost intensity of desire, and it is a blessing which we must obtain or we shall sink miserably down to everlasting de-struction--since to be without Christ is to be without hope. II. After these few words upon what it is to have a part with Jesus, I come to notice, in the second place, THE ESSENTIAL QUALIFICATION FOR OBTAINING AND ENJOYING A PART WITH CHRIST. It is essential that He should wash us. Observe then, that the qualification is not one of merit on our part, it is one of mercy on His part. If He had said, "Except you obtain a superior degree of holiness, you have no part in Me," we might have become dispirited, desponding, and even despairing. But the very chief of sinners may find comfort in such a word as this. Here is nothing of merit but all of mercy. Whatever is your sin, O Sinner, Christ can wash you! The only qualification for having a part in all Covenant blessings is that you as a sinner are washed by Jesus. There is no specification of something to be given on our part. It is something to be received. It is not demanded that we act as servants to Christ and wash His feet, but that He in tender condescension should be servant to us and wash our feet. If there were a matter of giving mentioned, O you poor and needy, you who are spiritually bankrupt, there might be reason for you to mourn! But since the essential, the great sine qua non is one of mercy alone, you may be comforted. You have but to come in all your filth and all your unworthiness and be washed, and this one thing shall give you part and lot in Christ. But what is meant by this washing, which is the essential qualification for a man to have part with Christ? I understand it to mean one thing, namely, purification through the Lord Jesus--which one thing, however, will be best understood if we describe it as four things. First, no man has any part in Christ who does not receive the first all-essential washing in the precious blood, by which all sin is once and forever put away. The moment a sinner believes in Jesus Christ, his iniquities are seen as laid on Christ the Substitute, and the Believer himself is free from sin. Though he may have been up to now black as an Ethiopian, yet is he washed in the fountain filled from the Redeemer's veins, and he stands before God without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. There is such a blessed fact as the instantaneous reception of a perfect pardon through faith in Jesus Christ, and this happens the moment a sinner truly looks to the great atoning Sacrifice. If you rely on the Substitute, and the matchless expiation which He made for human guilt, your sins, which are many, are all forgiven you. If He does not wash you, you have no part in Him--but if His blood atones for you, He is yours. If you do not receive His perfect, unrivalled, Godlike blood-washing, you are no Christian. Whatever is your profession, whatever your supposed experience, whatever your reformation, whatever you may have attempted or accom-plished--if you have never come as a guilty one, and seen your sin laid upon the bleeding Son of God, you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity--you have neither part nor lot in this matter. Without faith in the Atonement you can have no part in Christ. There follows a second cleansing, which is, in some respects, but a branch of the first, namely, daily pardon for sin through faith in Jesus. As day by day we fall into sin, we are taught to pray each day, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us." And there is provision made in Christ Jesus for this daily pardon, since besides being the Paschal Lamb, our Lord is the morning and evening Lamb for daily guilt. This is what Christ meant, especially when He washed the disciples' feet, for He told them that He did not wash their head and their hands, because they had been washed. And, therefore, as being clean, they needed not to wash anything but their feet. We who have once been pardoned have no need to be pardoned again in the sense in which we were at first. But we do have need in another sense, and in another respect, to seek a daily forgiveness of recurring sin. To use a simile which may, perhaps, explain what I mean--the priest of God, when first consecrated, was washed from head to foot, and so baptized into the service of the sanctuary. But later, each time he went to offer sacrifice, he washed his feet and his hands in the brazen laver. No need to give the complete immersion on each occasion--that had been given at first--and he was ceremonially purged from pollution, and made a priest unto God. But accidental defilement, incidental to everyday life, had to be cleansed away, not to make the man a priest, but to keep him in proper condition for the right discharge of his priestly office. Even so, every Believer is made a priest unto God, and does not need to be made a priest again, but to be daily cleansed from everything that might prevent him from the best discharge of his sacred duties. Permit me the use of another simile--here is a blackamoor, black from head to foot. But he is washed in a miraculous bath, and so made white, white as snow. The man will never want another washing to remove his natural blackness, that is gone forever. But, my Brethren, he may still need frequent washings, for as a white man he will constantly need the removal of stains incident to his being in this world. A sinner does not need, again, the first washing to be repeated, for that has put him into a new position towards God--but he needs a washing as a justified man to maintain his conscience in peace, and his heart pure for service. The leper, once purged under the Law, was clean and might go into the congregation of the Lord's House. Yet as a clean man and as admitted into the congregation, he had the ordinary need to wash which was incidental to every Israelite. Or to put it yet in another form--I, a criminal, am forgiven. All my crimes against the great Judge of all the earth are blotted out. I need no second acquittal. The acquittal which was given me when I first believed in Christ included all my sins, past, present, and to come. As before the bar of God I am clean, and need no further washing--but now being made a child, I stand not at His bar, but at His table, and alas--I commit sins as a child! Sins which will not condemn me, for I am not under the Law but under Grace, but sins which require me as a child to go to my Father, and say to Him each day, "My Father in Heaven, forgive me my daily trespasses, as I forgive them that trespass against me." This it is which you must receive every day, and if you do not receive it, you have no part in Christ. If you think you do not sin at all, and have not, therefore, any need of washing, you have no part in Christ. If you fancy that you do not require this daily washing of the feet, take it for granted that you are too proud to understand yourself and that you have not been humbled as you ought to be. All those who are in Christ feel that they need each day that He should come and wash their feet. Though they are clean every whit, yet still they need their feet to be washed by Him. A third thing included in this feet-washing, I believe, is the continual sanctification which faith in Jesus Christ carries on within us by the power of the Holy Spirit. If a man professes to be a Christian and is not in his walk and conversation holier than other men, that man's profession is vain. There are some who seem to think that we are to come to Christ as sinners, and then after having believed in Him are to live as we did before. My Brethren, it is not so. Christ saves His people from their sins. When you hear the complaints of God's servants concerning their temptations and their indwelling sins, you are not to conclude that sin has dominion over them, or that they have not overcome sin, or that they are not the men they once were. No, my Brethren, I believe the holier a man becomes, the more he mourns over the unholiness which remains in him. But he is in very truth a far better man--he is a spiritual and holy man. If Jesus washes you not, so that you become godly and upright, you may depend upon it, you have no part in Him. If He does not wash that tongue, and cleanse away those angry, or idle, or filthy words. If He does not wash those hands, and render them impossible to perform a dishonest or unchaste act. If He does not wash your feet and render it impossible they should be able to carry you to the haunts of vice and criminal amusement--you have no part in Him. It is all worthless for unconverted persons to be baptized and come to His Table, for if He has not sanctified you in some measure He has not justified you. If you are not a changed man, neither are you a saved man. And if you do not aspire after holiness, neither need you hope that you shall have a part in the Heaven of the blessed. "If I wash you not, you have no part with Me." It includes then, you see, the first pardon, the successive pardons of each day, and the sanctifying work by which He cleanses us with the washing of water by the Word. Once more, I think, in this foot-washing, our Savior meant to get forth the daily communion which the true Christian has with Christ. It was a very singular thing for a disciple to be sitting there and for the Master to be washing his feet. It was an astounding fact, a wonder, a miracle, a Divine Grace which Peter could hardly think possible. But every Christian's life must be a series of similar wonders. Each day he will have to obtain from his Lord some things for which it really seems as if he ought not to have dared to ask. They appear too good and too great for him to receive. I know, and you know what it is to go to the Lord Jesus Christ about little things, about household cares, about daily trials, about the troubles of our spirit, the distractions of our mind. It is a mark of a child to be able to do so. It is, in fact, a continuance of the foot-washing which our Lord gave to Peter. Washing feet is not a great or essential act. A man may live, though his feet after a journey may not be cooled by the refreshing stream from the pitcher. It is a small act, a grateful and refreshing act, and just such things Jesus Christ must continue to do for you and for me, if we are His people. We shall, in times of need, find Jesus in our chamber still clothed with the towel and bearing the basin--ready still to wait on us and administer loving refreshments. And we shall often wonder, "What? Did He really help me in such a thing as that, and did I dare to take such a case as that to Him?" Unbelief will say, "I dare not do that again. Lord, You shall never wash my feet. I cannot, I dare not make a servant of You for such common things as these. I will leave the great matters of salvation with You, but I will not come to You each day for ordinary things." But, Beloved, unless we do so--unless we live this life of reception of great Grace for little occasions. Unless we live receiving wonders of loving kindness which we feel we have no right to receive--marvels of mercy surpassing all expectation. Unless, I say, our life is made up of tender mercies of which we are utterly unworthy--Jesus is not washing our feet--and we have no part with Him. Put these four things together, and I think you have caught the thought of our Master. It is very blessed to think that the very first portion of the least Believer is to be washed, and this is the most essential thing of all. Though we may not as yet wear those brighter Graces which are the ornaments of the Christian life, and cannot as yet rejoice that we are full-grown men in Christ--yet if we are only little babes whose chief portion is to be washed, we have sure evidence of a part with Jesus. We may be too little to do much service. We may be too weak to achieve great victories. But if our Lord has but taken us to Himself, and washed us, we have a part with Him. The most essential thing, you see, is that which the feeblest and the newest born of all the heavenly family possesses. Washing is for every trembling sinner who trusts in Christ--and it is as good proof of a part in Christ as the highest degree of Grace. III. But I must pass on now to notice, in the third place, WHY THIS WASHING IS SO ESSENTIAL. And I answer, first, unless Christ washes us we have no part in Him because the claims of our Lord require it. Suppose a man shall say, "I have no need of washing." Brethren, it is clear that he has no part in Christ, because Christ came on purpose to cleanse His people from their sins. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. The whole have no need of a physician--only they that are sick. If a man does not take Jesus to be his Savior, he may say what he likes about Him, but he does not even know the meaning of His name. May not a very sincere person admire Christ's Character, and talk well of Him? Yes, and we shall be glad that he is able to go so far in the right way. But let not such a man deceive himself with the hope that he will be a partaker of any of the blessings which Christ brings unless he acknowledges that for which Christ is the Christ or the anointed One--namely, to bring the Gospel of salvation to the unworthy. One of old said, "Aut Caesar aut nullus"--he would be either Caesar or nobody. And so Jesus Christ will be either acknowledged the anointed Savior, or He will be nothing to you. If you will not take Him to be an Expiation for your sins, and the true Refiner of your life, you refuse Him altogether. Mere admiration of the physician gives no part in his healing power. The loudest praises of light give not vision to blind men. Jesus is either the Savior or nothing. For this He lived. For this He died. Alas, for those who will not receive Him in this Character! In the long run you shall always find that, despite their soft speeches, they have not received the true Christ of God. He who rejects Jesus as an atoning Sacrifice is sure to doubt His Godhead, and so to reject His grander nature. The deniers of the Atonement, who are supposed to be admirers of the example of Christ, generally turn out to be the greatest enemies to vital Christianity. There are no more real enemies of Christ than those who deny the doctrine of the Cross. If they do not accept Christ to wash them, they soon prove that they have no part in Him. Unless men need cleansing from sin, and unless His blood, alone, can cleanse them, Our Lord came on a frivolous errand--He descended to this world to perform an unnecessary work--and He was foolish enough to shed His blood with the most absurd of motives. If men need to be washed, then He came in Divine wisdom and philanthropy, and He lived and He died with an object worthy of His Divine mind--and His life was no mistake. But if men do not need cleansing, Christ's death was a mistake, and His whole life, I dare to say it, was a piece of base imposture--for He was evermore professing Himself to be the Savior of sinners, and the Pardoner of sin. He spoke of giving rest to the weary, and of saving the lost--if He could not save, or if men did not require saving--the life of Christ was a mistake, and His mission an imposition. Jesus Christ is nothing, His very name is ridiculous--if there are none to save, and if He is not a Savior anointed. You have no part in Christ, then, however much you applaud Him, unless you are washed by Him. You have rejected that for which He lived, and for which He died--you have despised that which He considers to be His noble lifework, and for the joy of which He gave Himself up to death, if you refuse to be washed by Him. Someone, perhaps, may say, "I believe I need washing, but I am confident I can purify myself. I have bad habits, and undesirable infirmities, but I can master the habits and can conquer the infirmity. I believe a man ought to be holy and become like God, and by diligent perseverance I conceive that I can do it." Do it, then, Sir. I challenge you to do it, but you certainly have no part in Christ. Whatever you may think of Christ, you can have no part in Him, for He comes on purpose to save His people from their sins. His very name is Jesus the Savior--for that same reason was He born--and if you can do it yourself, you are a rival to Him--you are an Antichrist. You will owe Him nothing, and you shall have no part in Him. Ah, see then, and mark it well--unless we are washed, we ignore the claims of Christ--we cast a slur upon the great labor of His life, and we rob Him of His main Glory. Furthermore, the Lord Jesus Christ is Himself so infinitely pure, so altogether holy, both as God and Man, that when we come to Him we must first be cleansed by Him before He can enter into fellowship with us. There is a fellowship with us as sinners which He graciously adopts, for He receives sinners and eats with them. But into fellowship with His deep thoughts, His blessed purposes, and His Divine Nature, He brings no man till first He has washed Him in His blood. If you refuse Him, then, as the Refiner who shall purify the sons of Levi, and take away their dross and sin, and then present them to Himself as much fine gold, you have refused all part in Christ. Again, the blessings which are in Christ are so spiritual that till we are cleansed we cannot enjoy them. Who can see God but those who are first made pure in heart? Who can have peace with God but those who are justified by faith? The blessings of the Covenant are not like oil and wine, which the ungodly man can rejoice in--neither are they like silver and gold, which the carnal heart can laugh over. But they are blessings, pure and refined, which the natural man knows not--which only the man renewed by the Spirit of God can ever prize--for to others they are far above and out of sight. You must be born again. You must be washed. You must be renewed in the spirit of your minds or else Heaven, itself, would not be a Heaven to you--and the things of the kingdom of God you could not know--its joys you could not enter into. Your lack of washing disqualifies you. Moreover, man's nature is such that if he did but know it, it is impossible for him to have part with Christ without washing. Peter did not see on his feet what Christ could see there. I mean not on the flesh of his feet, but on what they represent, namely, his daily life. Christ could see in Peter blots and blurs, and spots and defilement which made Him indeed say, "Alas, My poor Follower, you can have no part with Me unless I wash you. Poor Peter, if you did know yourself, you would see how impossible it is for Me to give you a portion with Me till first I have cleansed you." So, Brethren, if we had a sight of ourselves, a true sight in God's own light--instead of starting back from Christ the Purifier, we would cry to Him incessantly, "Wash me, O Lord, purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean--wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." For all these reasons, then, the washing by our Master becomes a necessity. You cannot have a part in Christ unless you are washed by Him. IV. Just for a moment or two I shall ask you to think of some THINGS WHICH HAVE BEEN PUT FORWARD AS SUBSTITUTES for being washed by Jesus Christ. Peter had such a love for his Master, and such an admiration for Him that he very humbly said, "Do You wash my feet?" Now would not Peter's humble reverential estimation of Christ stand him in good place? Might he not be accepted even though his feet were not washed? Ah, no! "If I wash you not, you have no part in Me." If any of you feel your un-worthiness, and mourn it, and are kept back from Christ by the thought that you are not fit to be saved--will this humility, this supposed humility--save you? My Hearer, the answer is NO. Unless you have faith in Christ, and He washes you, you have no part in Him. No repentance, no remorse, no chastenings of your spirit, no humblings of your soul--if they exist apart from a living faith in Him--can give you any part in Him. O that you would give up this ruinous humility and trust in Jesus to cleanse you! For unless you do, though you humble yourself from morning to morning, and water the earth with your tears, and make your bed to swim with them--yet shall you have no part in Christ. Peter had performed distinguished service for his Master. He had gone with the other Apostles and preached the Gospel, and cast out devils. And he was one of those who returned and said, "Lord, even the devils are subject to us"--would not this do? Would not these achievements prove that Peter had part in Christ? He preached so boldly, he faced the crowd so nobly--would not that suffice? No, my dear Hearers. Though any of us should possess tongues of men and of angels, and give our bodies to be burned--yet if Christ washes us not, we have no part in Him. We must not hope that the noble service can stand in the place of the washing by the expiatory Atonement of Christ. But Peter had enjoyed very remarkable views of Christ's Glory. He was one of the three who went up the Mount of Transfiguration, and there saw the Lord in splendor. And at other times with the other two favorites of the Master, he had been admitted to sights denied to common eyes--would not all this prove his part in Jesus? I sometimes hear men and women boasting out of measure of the "coming Glory." And I know they give their chief attention to the prophecies of that Glory. I would not deny them all that they are likely to get from such studies. But I would remind them that it is not as glorified as the fact that Jesus puts away sin. He atoned for it as Christ Crucified, and as such He is our hope. Though a man bathe day after day in the very light of the Millennium, and though he understand all mysteries--yet if Jesus washes him not, if he has not justification through the blood, and holiness through the work of the Spirit--it profits him nothing. Visions of Glory, however transporting they may be, give you no part in Him. But Peter had walked on water once when his Master bade him come to Him! Though he did, at last, begin to sink, yet for awhile he trod the waves, and found the water marble beneath his feet. Did not that prove him to possess a part in Christ? No, my Brethren, not if Christ washed him not. If you had faith to remove mountains, yet if you had not this blood-washing, this daily washing, you would have no part in Christ. But this man Peter had received deep instruction! Did not his Master say, "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood have not revealed it unto you"? Yes, but I add that though you possessed all knowledge, and could interpret all mysteries, yet if Jesus washes you not, you have no part in Him. It is not the power to occupy the pulpit. It is not the power to cast out a devil. It is not the power to work a miracle. It is not the power, even, to shake Heaven or earth that can prove you to have a part in Christ--it is the simply going down humbly to the fountain filled with blood and being washed there, which is the indispensable qualification--and nothing else can stand in the place of this. Peter, no doubt, was full of zealous enthusiasm. He could say, "Though all should deny You, yet will not I. I will go with You to prison and to death." But the greatest imaginable zeal does not prove a man to have a part in Christ if he is not truly washed. I do implore you, my dear Hearers, to do what I anxiously wish to do myself, namely, to make sure that you have been cleansed in the blood of Jesus. It is one thing to know about that blood. It is another thing to have it applied to the conscience. It is one thing to know you ought daily to be washed. It is quite another thing to get that daily washing. It is one thing to believe, "I ought to be holy." It is another thing to have the Holy Spirit dwelling in me to make me holy. It is one thing to see the faults of others--but quite another thing to confess my own and to be cleansed from them by the Savior. Search yourselves, I pray you. You may have but little time to do it in--therefore be on the alert, and examine yourself! For don't you hear the sentence, full of love and full of pity, and yet as stern as the thunderclaps which pealed from Sinai's Smoking summit--"If I wash you not, you have no part in Me"? If He does not justify you. If He does not daily forgive you. If He does not daily sanctify you. If He does not daily perform condescending deeds of tenderness and kindness towards you, you have no part in Him. V. So let us close with LESSONS OF WISDOM upon which I linger but a minute or two. The lesson of wisdom which comes first is this--let no supposed humility keep any of you from believing in Jesus Christ. The way of Grace is miracle from beginning to end. Stagger not, therefore, to begin with accepting a miracle of Grace. You say, "I cannot believe that Christ could forgive such a Hell-deserving sinner as I am. I have not any claims on Him. I have been such a wretch. I cannot think that simply on my trusting Him, He, out of His abundant mercy, will forgive my sins." My dear Friend, if you cannot believe that to begin with--it is but the commencement miracle--there are still greater things than these! "But I am so unworthy!" I know you are, it is all true--you are much more unworthy than you have any idea of. You do not deserve to live. You do not deserve to be out of Hell. But since God is gracious, and He bids you trust Christ and you shall live, do not be damned because you are too proudly humble to be saved! You tell me I speak sarcastically. I tell you, rather, I speak the Truth of God. It is Satan who deceives you by making you believe that there is any humility in doubting the mercy of God in Christ Jesus! What if you are the worst sinner out of damnation? If God tells you He will save you upon your believing and being baptized, why, Man, believe and be baptized and be saved! And may God the Holy Spirit lead you to do that now. What have you to do with saying it is too good a thing? If God chooses to give it, who are you to say it is too good? You must be washed by Christ or else perish! O do not stand back because it seems too good for you to receive! You must be washed, I say, or perish! Take the good that God provides you and be grateful for it. What if God Himself came down from Heaven and put on human flesh and suffered and died that you might not suffer and die? I grant you it is a miracle that makes the very seraphim astonished and causes the whole universe to tremble with amazement. But why do you draw back from it and say, "Because it is so great I will not receive it"? Do you refuse the air because a bounteous God has made it so abundant? Do you refuse to drink of the river because it is so deep and broad? Will you refuse God's mercy because that mercy is so illimitable, so vast, so Divine? O do not! I say again, damn not yourself under pretense of humility--but come as you are, and accept the mercy which is freely presented to you in Christ Jesus, in the Gospel which He has bid us preach. Remember, "He that believes and is baptized, shall be saved. He that believes not, shall be damned." A further lesson of wisdom is this--as you must not let a supposed humility keep you back, so let no other kind of feeling keep you from Christ. The feeling may seem to be very right and very proper, but if it prevents your being saved, it is a bad feeling. I know your human nature may excuse it and say, "Why, this is commendable for a man to feel his sin so great! Is it not even praiseworthy?" I answer, nothing is commendable which makes a man think that God cannot forgive him. Feel your sin to be as great as you will, but do not, therefore, slander God as though He were unwilling to forgive you. Your feeling may look pretty in the darkness of your ignorance, but in the brightness of the eternal light, any feeling that keeps you away from the Cross and away from your Father God is a damnable feeling, and therefore away with it! Believe at once! I charge you to believe in the name of Jesus of Nazareth! I, His servant charge you in His name--believe Him! As He spoke to the winds and they were hushed, and to the waves and they were stilled, so in His name I speak to you all! I say trust Him and you shall find peace for your spirit and joy for your soul, both now and forever. The last word shall be this--remember, my dear Friends, what you are if you remain unwashed. And remember what you will be if you are washed. If you remain unwashed you have no part in Him. The past unforgiven, the present unchanged, the future unsanctified. There remains for you, when the dread summons comes that shall separate your soul from your body, nothing that can comfort, nothing that can afford a ray of hope. Convicted before the bar of God of ten thousand offenses against His righteous Law, convicted of mad, insane rebellion against God in having refused the Gospel of His dear Son, you must be driven from His Presence. And I warn you that within the cover of His Book there is not so much as a single jot or tittle that breathes anything like consolation to a spirit that has once been condemned of God after death. Men have tried to contort this Bible and make it say something that might encourage a soul to reject Christ. But there is here nothing but a fearful looking for ofjudgment and of fiery indignation which shall devour the unbeliever. It is now or never with you! I beseech you--look to Jesus Christ and live! To be washed! How simple! Nothing is asked of you but to take what Christ has made ready for you. To be washed! How necessary! To be washed now! How easy! O cast not away the promise of God through unbelief, but accept the washing, lest you cast yourself into eternal condemnation! If you believe in Jesus now, you shall be cleansed, your life shall become new. The preaching of morality helps but little. Men have been preached at with morality till they have become drunkards and swearers. Vice laughs at the preaching of morality. But the preaching of Christ Crucified and the Gospel of Substitution is efficacious--as many here are testifying by their renewed lives and changed behavior. Trust Christ, then, and as your present life will be changed, your future life will be unboundedly blessed. When your turn shall come to depart out of the world unto the Father, you shall be with Jesus where He is--and you shall behold His Glory. Oh, then, be washed and have part in all the splendor that is to be revealed! Be washed now, and His shall be the glory. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Martha And Mary (No. 927) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, APRIL 24, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Now it came to pass, as they went, that He entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus 'feet, and heard His Word. But Martha was cumbered aboutmuch serving, and came to Him, and said, Lord, do you not care that my sister has leftme to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, 'Martha, Martha, you are careful and troubled about many things: but one thing is needful: and Mary has chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her." Luke 10:38-42. IT is not an easy thing to maintain the balance of our spiritual life. No man can be spiritually healthy who does not meditate and commune. No man, on the other hand, is as he should be unless he is active and diligent in holy service. David sweetly sang, "He makes me to lie down in green pastures." There was the contemplative. "He leads me beside the still waters." There was the active and progressive. The difficulty is to maintain the two--and to keep each in its relative proportion to the other. We must not be so active as to neglect communion, nor so contemplative as to become unpractical. In the chapter from which our text is taken we have several lessons on this subject. The seventy disciples returned from their preaching tour flushed with the joy of success. And our Savior, to refine that joy and prevent its degenerating into pride, bids them rather rejoice that their names were written in Heaven. He conducted their contemplations to the glorious doctrine of election, that grateful thoughts might sober them after successful work. He bids them consider themselves as debtors to Divine Grace, which reveals unto babes the mysteries of God--for He would not allow their new position as workers to make them forget that they were the chosen of God--and therefore debtors. Our wise Master next returns to the subject of service, and instructs them by the memorable parable of the good Samaritan and the wounded man. And then as if they might vainly imagine philanthropy, as it is the service of Christ, to be the only service of Christ, and to be the only thing worth living for, He brings in the two sisters of Bethany. The Holy Spirit meant thereby to teach us that while we ought to abound in service, and to do good abundantly to our fellow men, yet we must not fail in worship, in spiritual reverence, in meek discipleship, and quiet contemplation. While we are practical, like the seventy--practical like the Samaritan--practical like Martha, we are, also, like the Savior, to rejoice in spirit, and say, "Father, I thank You," and we are also like Mary, to sit down in quietude and nourish our souls with Divine Truth. This short narrative, I suppose, might be paraphrased something after this fashion. Martha and Mary were two most excellent sisters, both converted, both lovers of Jesus, both loved by Jesus, for we are expressly told that He loved Mary and Martha and Lazarus. They were both women of a choice spirit--our savior's selection of their house as a frequent resort proved that they were an unusually gracious family. They are persons representative of different forms of excellence, and I think it altogether wrong to treat Martha as some have done, as if she had no love for good things, and was nothing better than a mere worldling. It was not so. Martha was a most estimable and earnest woman, a true Believer, and an ardent follower of Jesus whose joy it was to entertain Jesus at the house of which she was the mistress. When our Lord made His appearance on this occasion at Bethany, the first thought of Martha was, "Here is our most noble guest, we must prepare for Him a sumptuous entertainment." Perhaps she marked our Savior's weariness, or saw some traces of that exhaustion which made Him look so much older than He was. And she, therefore, set to work with the utmost diligence to prepare a feast for Him. She was careful about many things, and as she went on with her preparations, fresh matters occurred to ruffle her mind, and she became worried. And, being somewhat vexed that her sister took matters so coolly, she begged the Master to upbraid her. Now Mary had looked upon the occasion from another point of view. As soon as she saw Jesus come into the house she thought, "What a privilege have I now to listen eagerly to such a Teacher, and to treasure up His precious words! He is the Son of God, I will worship, I will adore, and every word He utters shall be stored in my memory." She forgot the needs both of the Master and His followers, for her faith saw the inner Glory which dwelt within Him. She was so overpowered with reverence, and so wrapt in devout wonder, that she became oblivious of all outward things. She had no faults to find with Martha for being so busy. She did not even think of Martha--she was altogether taken up with her Lord and with those gracious words which He was speaking. She had no will, either, to censure or to praise or to think even of herself. Everything was gone from her but her Lord and the word which He was uttering. See, then, that Martha was serving Christ, but so was Mary. Martha meant to honor Christ, so did Mary. They both agreed in their design, but they differed in their way of carrying it out. And while Martha's service is not censured (only her being cumbered comes under the censure), yet Mary is expressly commended, as having chosen the good part. And therefore we do Martha no injustice if we show wherein she came short, and wherein Mary exceeded. Our first observation will be this--the Martha spirit is very prevalent in the Church of God just now. In the second place, the Martha spirit very much injures true service. In the third place, the Mary spirit is the source of the noble form of consecration. I. THE MARTHA SPIRIT IS VERY PREVALENT IN THE CHURCH at this period--prevalent in some quarters to a mischievous degree--and among us all to a perilous extent. What do we intend by saying that the Martha spirit is prevalent just now? We mean, first, that there is a considerable tendency among Christian people, in serving Christ, to aim at making a fair show in the flesh. Martha wanted to give our Lord right worthy entertainment which should be a credit to her house and to her family--and herein she is commendable far above those careless ones who think anything good enough for Christ. So also, among professing Christians, there is at this present time a desire to give to the cause of Christ buildings notable for their architecture and beauty. We must have no more barns. Our meeting houses must exhibit our improving taste. If possible, our chapels must be correctly Gothic or sternly classical in all their details, both without and within. As to the service, we must cultivate the musical and the tasteful. We are exhorted not to be barely decent, but to aim at the sublime and beautiful. Our public worship, it is thought, should be impressive if not imposing. Care should be taken that the music should be chaste, the singing conformed to the best rules of the arts, and the preaching eloquent and attractive. So everything in connection with Christian labor should be made to appear generous and noble. By all means the subscription lists must be kept current. Each denomination must excel the other in the amount of its annual funds-- surely everything done for Christ ought to be done in the best possible style. Now in all this there is much that is good, much that is really intended to honor the Lord, so we see no room to censure--but yet we will show you a more excellent way. These things you may do, but there are higher things which you must do, or suffer loss. Brethren, there is something better to be studied than the outward, for though this may be aimed at with a single eye to God's Glory--and we judge no man--yet we fear the tendency is to imagine that mere externals are precious in the Master's sight. I know He counts it a very small matter whether your House of Prayer is a cathedral or a barn. To the Savior it is small concern whether you have organs or whether you have none--whether you sing after the choicest rules of psalmody or not. He looks at your hearts, and if these ascend to Him. He accepts the praise. As for those thousands of pounds annually contributed, He estimates them not by the weights of the merchant, but after the balances of the sanctuary. Your love expressed in your gifts He values, but what are the mere silver and gold to Him? Funds, and encouraging accounts, and well-arranged machineries are well if they exist as the outgrowth of fervent love--but if they are the end-all, and the be-all--you miss the mark. Jesus would be better pleased with a grain of love than a heap of ostentatious service. The Martha spirit shows itself in the censuring of those persons who are careful about Christ's Word, who stand up for the doctrines of the Gospel, who desire to maintain the Ordinances as they were delivered unto them, and who are scrupulous and thoughtful, and careful concerning the Truth as it is in Jesus. In newspapers, on platforms, and in common talk, you frequently hear earnest disciples of Jesus and consistent Believers in His doctrines snubbed and denounced as unpractical. Theological questions are scouted as mere impertinences. Go in for Ragged schools, certainly. Reclaim the Arabs of the street, by all manner of means. Pass a compulsory educa- tion bill, certainly. Soup kitchens, free dinners--all excellent. We can all join in these. But never mention creeds and doctrines. Why, Man, you cannot be aware of the enlightenment of our times! What importance can now be attached to mere biblical dogmas and ordinances? Why contend as to whether Baptism shall be performed upon a babe or upon a Believer, whether it shall be by sprinkling or by immersion? What matters the Law of Christ in such a case? These things would do for the schoolmen of the Dark Ages to fight about, but what can be the importance of such trifles in this highly enlightened nineteenth century? Yes, that is the exaggeration of Martha. Mary, treasuring up every word of Christ, Mary counting each syllable a pearl, is reckoned to be unpractical, if not altogether idle. That spirit, I fear, is growing in these times, and needs to be checked. After all, there is Truth and there is error, and charitable talk cannot alter the fact. To know and to love the Gospel is no mean thing. Obedience to Jesus, and anxiety to learn His will so as to please Him in all things are not secondary matters. Contemplation, worship, and growth in Grace are not unimportant. I trust we shall not give way to the spirit which despises our Lord's teaching, for if we do--in prizing the fruit and despising the root--we shall lose the fruit and the root, too. In forgetting the great well-spring of holy activity, namely, personal piety, we shall miss the streams, also. From the sincerity of faith and the fervor of love practical Christianity must arise. And if the food that faith and love feed upon is withdrawn. If sitting at the feet of Jesus is regarded as of secondary consequence, then both strength and will to serve the Lord will decline. I dread much the spirit which would tamper with the Truth of God for the sake of united action, or for any object under Heaven--the latitudinarian spirit, which sneers at creeds and dogmas. Truth is no trifle. Our fathers did not think so, when, at the stake they gave themselves to death, or on the brown heather of Scotland fell beneath the swords of Claverhouse's dragoons for truths which nowadays men count unimportant, but which, being truths, were to them so vital that they would sooner die than suffer them to be dishonored. O for the same uncompromising love of the Truth! Would to God we could be both active and studious, and both learn with Mary and work with Martha! The Martha spirit crops up in our reckoning so many things necessary. Martha believed that to entertain Christ there must be many things prepared. As to leaving one of those things out--it could not be. Our Lord would have been satisfied enough with the simplest fare--a piece of fish or of a honeycomb would well have contented Him. But no, according to Martha's judgment there must be this, and there must be that. So is it with many good people now. They have their ideas of excellence, and if these cannot be realized they despair of doing anything acceptable for Christ. I believe an educated ministry to be desirable, but none the less do I deplore the spirit which considers it to be essential. In the presence of the fishermen of Galilee we dare not subscribe to the necessity which with some is beyond doubt. You must not, according to the talk of some, allow these earnest young people to set about preaching, and your converted coal miners and fiddlers should be stopped at once. The Holy Spirit has in all ages worked by men of His own choosing. But some Churches today would not let Him if they could help it. Their pulpits are closed against the most holy and useful preachers if they have not those many things with which the Church nowadays cumbers her ministers and herself. Then, my Brethren, to carry on a good work it is thought needful to have a Society and large funds. I also approve of the Society and the funds. I only regret that they should be so viewed as prime necessaries that few will stir without them. The idea of sending out a missionary with a few pounds in his hands as in the day's of Carey, is set down in many quarters as absurd. How can you save souls without a committee? How can London be evangelized till you have raised at least a million of money? Can you hope to see men converted without an annual meeting in Exeter Hall? You must have a secretary--there is no moving an inch till he is elected. And know you not that without a committee you can do nothing? All these and a thousand things, which time fails me to mention, are now deemed to be necessary for the service of Jesus. It is such that a true-hearted soul who could do much for his Lord scarcely dares to move till he has put on Paul's armor of human patronage. O for Apostolic simplicity, going everywhere preaching the Word, and consecrating the labor of every Believer to soul-winning. To bring us back to first principles, "one thing is needful," and if by sitting at Jesus' feet we can find that one thing, it will stand us in better place than all the thousand things which custom now demands. To catch the Spirit of Christ, to be filled with Himself--this will equip us for godly labor as nothing else can. May all Christians yet come to put this one thing first and foremost, and count the power of deep piety to be the one essential qualification for holy work. The censurable quality in the Martha spirit appears in the satisfaction which many feel with more activity. To have done so much preaching, or so much Sunday school teaching. To have distributed so many tracts, to have made so many calls by our missionaries--all this seems to be looked at as end rather than means. If there is so much effort put forth, so much work is done--is it not enough? Our reply is, it is not enough. It is nothing without the Divine blessing. Brethren, where mere work is prized, and the inner life forgotten, prayer comes to be at a discount. The committee is attended, but the Prayer Meeting forsaken. The gathering together for supplication is counted little compared with the collecting of subscriptions. The opening prayer at public meetings is regarded as a very proper thing. But there are those who regard it as a mere formality, which might be very well laid aside, and, therefore, invariably come in after prayer is over. It will be an evil day for us when we trust in the willing and the running, and practically attempt to do without the Holy Spirit. This lofty estimate of mere activity for its own sake throws the acceptance of our work into the shade. The Martha spirit says, if the work is done, is not that all? The Mary spirit asks whether Jesus is well-pleased or not. All must be done in His name and by His Spirit, or nothing is done. Restless service, which sits not at His feet, is but the clattering of a mill which turns without, grinding corn. It is but an elaborate method of doing nothing. I do not want less activity--how earnestly do I press you to it almost every Sunday. But I do pray that we may feel that all our strength lies in God and that we can only be strong as we are accepted of Christ. And we can only be accepted in Christ as we wait upon Him in prayer, trust Him, and live upon Him. You may compass sea and land to make your proselytes, but if you have not the Spirit of Christ you are none of His. You may rise up early and sit up late, and eat the bread of sorrows, but unless you trust in the Lord your God, you shall not prosper. The joy of the Lord is your strength. They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. Without Christ you can do nothing. Has He not told you, "He that abides in Me, and I in Him, the same brings forth much fruit"? Was it not written of old, "I am like a green fir tree: from Me is your fruit found"? Once more, Martha's spirit is predominant in the Church of God to a considerable extent, now, in the evident respect which is paid to the manifest--and the small regard which is given to the secret. All regenerated persons ought to be workers for God and with God--but let the working never swamp the believing--never let the servant be more prominent than the Son! Never, because you conduct a class, or are chief man at a village station, forget that you are a sinner saved by Grace and have need, still, to be looking to the Crucified, and finding all your life in Him. You lose your strength as a worker if you forget your dependence as a Believer. To labor for Christ is a pleasant thing, but beware of doing it mechanically. And this you can only prevent by diligently cultivating personal communion with Christ. My Brother, it may be you will undertake so much service that your time will be occupied and you will have no space for prayer and reading the Word. The half-hour in the morning for prayer will be cut short, and the time allotted for communion with God in the evening will be gradually entrenched upon by this engagement and the other occupation--and when this is the case I tremble for you. You are killing the steed by spurring it and denying it food. You are undermining your house by drawing out the stones from the foundation to pile them at the top. You are doing your soul serious mischief if you put the whole of your strength into that part of your life which is visible to men, and forget that portion of your life which is secret between you and your God. To gather up all in one, I fear there is a great deal among us of religious activity of a very inferior sort. It concerns itself with the external of service. It worries itself with merely human efforts and it attempts, in its own strength, to achieve Divine results. The real working which God will accept is that which goes hand in hand with a patient waiting upon Christ--with heart searching, with supplication, with communion--with a childlike dependence upon Jesus. With a firm adhesion to His Truth, with an intense love to His Person, and an abiding in Him at all seasons. May we have more of such things! Martha's spirit, though excellent in itself, so far as it goes, must not overshadow Mary's quiet, deep-seated piety, or evil will come of it. II. Secondly, we observe that THE MARTHA SPIRIT INJURES TRUE SERVICE. Service may be true, and yet somewhat marred upon the wheel. Give your attention not so much to what I say, as to the bearing of it upon yourselves. It may be that you will find, as we speak, that you have been verily guilty touching these things. The Martha spirit brings the least welcome offering to Christ. It is welcome, but it is the least welcome. Our Lord Jesus, when on earth, was more satisfied by conversing to a poor Samaritan woman than He would have been by the best meat and drink. In carrying on His spiritual work He had meat to eat that His disciples knew not of. Evermore His spiritual Nature was predominant over His physical Nature, and those persons who brought Him spiritual gifts brought Him the gifts which He preferred. Here, then, was Martha's dish of well-cooked meat, but there was Mary's gift of a humble obedient heart. Here was Martha decking the table, but there was Mary submitting her judgment to the Lord, and looking up with wondering eyes as she heard His matchless speech. Mary was bringing to Jesus the better offering. With Martha, He would, in His condescension, be pleased. But in Mary He found satisfaction. Martha's service He accepted benevolently, but Mary's worship He accepted with complacency. Now, Brothers and Sisters, all that you can give to Christ in any shape or form will not be so dear to Him as the offering of your fervent love, the clinging of your humble faith, the reverence of your adoring souls. Do not, I pray you, neglect the spiritual for the sake of the external, or else you will be throwing away gold to gather iron to yourself. You will be pulling down the palaces of marble that you may build for yourselves hovels of clay. Martha's spirit has this mischief about it, also, that it brings self too much to remembrance. We would not severely judge Martha, but we conceive that in some measure she aimed at making the service a credit to herself as the mistress of the house. At any rate, self came up when she began to grow weary, and complained that she was left to serve alone. We also want our work to show well as our work. We like those who see it to commend it, and if none commend it, we feel that we are treated badly, and are left to work alone. Now, to the extent in which I think of myself in my service I spoil it. Self must sink, and Christ be All in All. John the Baptist's saying must be our motto, "He must increase, I must decrease." For Jesus' shoelace we are not worthy to unloose. Too much work and too little fellowship will always bring self into prominence. Self must be prayed down, and fellowship with Jesus must keep it down. Martha seemed to fancy that what she was doing was necessary for Christ. She was cumbered about much serving because she thought it necessary that there should be a noble entertainment for the Lord. We are still too apt to think that Jesus wants our work, and that He cannot do without us. The preacher enquires what would become of the Church if he were removed! The deacon is suspicions that if he were taken away there would be a great gap left in the leadership of the Church. The teacher of a class feels that those children would never be converted, Christ would miss of the travail of His soul but for him. Ah, but a fly on St. Paul's Cathedral might as well imagine that all the traffic at his feet was regulated by his presence, and would cease, should he be removed. I love you to think that Christ will do much work by you, and to attach as much weight as you can to your responsibilities, but as to Jesus needing us--the thing is preposterous! Mary is much wiser when she feels, "He desires me to receive His words, and yield Him my love. I would gladly give Him meat, but He will see to that. He is the Master of all things, and can do without me or Martha. I need Him far more than He can need me." We spoil our service when we overestimate its importance, for this leads us into loftiness and pride. Martha, under the influence of this high temper, came to complain of her sister, and to complain of her Lord, too, as if He were excusing her idleness. "Do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?" How it spoils what we do for Christ when we go about it with a haughty spirit! When we feel, "I can do this, and it is grand to do that"--am I not somewhat better than others? "Must not my Master think well of me?" The humble worker wins the day. God accepts the man who feels his nothingness, and out of the depths cries to Him. But the great ones He will put down from their seat, and send the rich ones away empty. Activity, if not balanced by devotion, tends to puff us up and so to prevent acceptance with God. Martha also fell into an unbelieving vexation. Her idea of what was necessary to be done was so great that she found she could not attain to it. There must be this side dish, and there must be that principal meat. There must be this meat and that wine, it must be cooked just so many minutes. This must be done to a turn, and so on, and so on, and so on, and so on. And now time flies and she fears yonder guest has been slighted. That servant is not back from the market. Many things go wrong when you are most anxious to have them right. You good housewives who may have had large parties to prepare for, know what these cares mean, I dare say. And something of the sort troubled Martha so that she became fretful and unbelieving. She had a work to do beyond her strength, as she thought, and her faith failed her, and her unbelief went petulantly to complain to her Lord. Have we never erred in the same way? We must have that Sunday school excel- lently conducted, that morning Prayer Meeting must be improved, that Bible class must be revived, our morning sermon must be a telling one, and so on! The preacher here speaks of himself, for he sometimes feels that there is too much responsibility laid upon his shoulders, and he is very apt in reviewing his great field of labor to grow desponding in spirit. But when the preacher confessed that he spoke of himself, he only did so because he represents his fellow workers, and you also grow faint and doubtful. Alas, in such a case the enjoyment of service evaporates, the fretfulness which pines over details spoils the whole, and the worker becomes a mere drudge and scullion instead of an angel who does God's commandments, hearkening unto the voice of His Word. Instead of glowing and burning like seraphs, our chariot wheels are taken off by our anxiety, and we drag heavily. Faith it is that secures acceptance, but when unbelief comes in, the work falls flat to the ground. At such times when the man or the Church shall become subject to the Martha spirit, the voluntary principle falls a little into disrepute. I believe the voluntary principle is the worst thing in all the world to work where there is no Divine Grace. But where there is Grace it is the one principle that God accepts. Now, Martha would have Mary made to serve Christ. What right has she to be sitting down there? Whether she likes it or not, she must get up and wait like her sister. Martha's voluntary desire to do much leads her to think that Mary, if she has not quite such a voluntary love for the work, must be driven to it--must have a sharp word from Christ about it. So it is with us. We are so willing to contribute to the Lord's work that we wish we had ten thousand times as much to give. Our heart is warm within us, and we feel we would make no reserve--and then are so grieved with others because they give so very little that we wish we could compel them to give! And so we would put their cankered money into the same treasury with the bright freewill offerings of the saints, as if the Lord would receive such beggarly pittances squeezed out by force in the same manner as He accepts the voluntary gifts of His people! It were wiser if we left those unwilling contributions to rust in the pockets of their owners. For in the long run I believe they do not help the cause--only that which is given out of a generous spirit, and out of love to Christ--will come up accepted before Him. Too readily do we get away from the free spirit when we get away from the right spirit. The fact is, the Martha spirit spoils all, because it gets us away from the inner soul of service, as I have said before, to the mere husks of service. We cease to do work as to the Lord, we labor too much for the service's sake. The main thing in our minds is the service, and not the Master. We are cumbered, and He is forgotten. Thus have I indicated as briefly as I could, some of the weaknesses of the Martha spirit. III. Now for THE MARY SPIRIT. I have to show you that it is capable of producing the noble form of consecration to Christ. Its noble results will not come just yet. Martha's fruits ripen very quickly, Mary's take time. When Lazarus was dead, you will remember Martha ran to meet Christ, but Mary sat still in the house. Martha wanted her own time, Mary could take Christ's time. So after awhile, just before our Lord's death, we find that Mary did a grand thing--she did what Martha never thought of doing--she brought forth a box of precious ointment and poured it on the Lord's head, and anointed Him with ointment. While she was sitting at Christ's feet, she was forming and filling the springs of action. You are not losing time while you are feeding the soul. While by contemplation you are getting purpose strengthened and motive purified, you are rightly using time. When the man becomes intense, when he gets within him principles vital, fervent, energetic--then when the season for work comes he will work with a power and a result which empty people can never attain--however busy they may be. If the stream flows at once, as soon as ever there is a shower, it must be little better than a trickling rivulet. But if the current stream is dammed up, so that for awhile nothing pours down the river bed, you will, in due time, when the waters have gathered strength, witness a torrent before which nothing can stand. Mary was filling up the fountain head. She was listening and learning, feeding, edifying, loving, and growing strong. The engine of her soul was getting its steam ready, and when all was right, her action was prompt and forcible. Meanwhile, the manner of her action was being refined. Martha's actions were good, but, if I may use the word, they were commonplace. She must make a great feed for the Lord Jesus, just as for any earthly friend. The spiritual nature of Christ she had forgotten, she was providing nothing for it. But Mary's estimate of Christ was of a truer order. She looked at Him as a Priest. She viewed Him as a Prophet. She adored Him as a King. She had heard Him speak about dying, and had listened to His testimony about suffering, and dimly guessing what it meant, she prepared the precious spikenard that before the dying should come she might anoint Him. The woman's deed was full of meaning and of instruction. It was, indeed, an embodied poem. The odor that filled the house was the perfume of love and elevated thought. She became refined in her actions by the process of musing and learning. Those who think not, who meditate not, who commune not with Christ, will do commonplace things very well. But they will never rise to the majesty of a spiritual conception, or carry out a heart-suggested work for Christ. That sitting of Mary was also creating originality of art. I tried, two Sundays ago, to enforce upon you the duty of originality of service as the right thing--that as we wandered, everyone in his own way, we should each serve God in his own way, according to our peculiar adaptation and circumstances. Now this blessed woman did so. Martha is in a hurry to be doing something--she does what any other admirer of Jesus would do--she prepares meat and a festival. But Mary does what but one or two besides herself would think of--she anoints Him--and is honored in the deed. She struck out a spark of light from herself as her own thought, and she cherished that spark till it became a flaming act. I would that in the Church of God we had many Sisters at Jesus' feet who at last would start up under an inspiration and say, "I have thought of something that will bring glory to God which the Church has not heard of before. And this will I put in practice, that there may be a fresh gem in my Redeemer's crown." This sitting at the Master's feet guaranteed the real spirituality of what she did. Did you notice when I read what the Master said concerning the pouring of the ointment upon Him, "She has kept this for My burial"? He praised her for keeping it, as well as for giving it. I suppose that for months she had set apart that particular ointment, and held it in reserve. Much of the sweetest aroma of a holy work lies in its being thought over and brought out with deliberation. There are works to be done at once and straightway. But there are some other works to be weighed and considered. What shall I do to praise my Savior? There is a cherished scheme, there is a plan, the details of which shall be prayed out, and every single part of it sculptured in the imagination and realized in the heart. And then the soul shall wait, delighting herself in prospect of the deed, until the dear purpose may be translated into fact. It is well to wait, expectantly saying, "Yes, the set time will come. I shall be able to do the deed. I shall not go down to my grave altogether without having been serviceable. It is not yet the time, it is not yet the appropriate season, and I am not quite ready for it myself. But I will add Grace to Grace and virtue to virtue, and I will add self-denial to self-denial, till I am fit to accomplish the one chosen work." So the Savior praised Mary that she had kept this--kept it till the fit moment came before His burial. And then, but not till then, she had poured out and revealed her love. Yes, it is not your thoughtless service, performed while your souls are half asleep--it is that which you do for Christ with eyes that overflow--with hearts that swell with emotion. It is this that Jesus accepts. May we have more of such service, as we shall have if we have more of sitting at His feet. Christ accepted her. He said she had chosen the good part which should not be taken from her. And if our work is spiritual, intense, fervent, thoughtful. If it springs out of fellowship. If it is the outgushing of deep principles, of inward beliefs, of solemn gratitude--then our piety shall never be taken from us--it will be an enduring thing. It will not be like the mere activities of Martha-- things that come and go. I have thus worked out my text. I shall utter but two or three words upon the general applications of it. I shall apply it to three or four things very briefly. Brethren, I believe in our Nonconformity. I believe if ever England wanted Nonconformists it is now. But there is a tendency to make Nonconformity become a thing of externals, dealing with State and Church and politics. The political relations of Nonconformists--I believe in their value--I would not have a man less earnest upon them. But I am always fearful lest we should forget that Nonconformity is nothing if it is not spiritual-- and that the moment we, as Dissenters, become merely political or formal--it is all over with us. Our strength is at the Master's feet, and I am afraid for our Nonconformity if it lives elsewhere. I mark so much conformity to the world, so much laxity of rule, so much love of novel opinions, that I tremble. I wish we could go back to Puritanism. We are getting too lax. There is too much worldliness and carnality among us. There is little fear of our being censured, even by the world, for being too Particular. I am afraid we are too much like the world for the world to hate us. As I pray that Nonconformity may always prevail in England, so I earnestly pray that she may stand because she abides near to Christ, holds His Truth, prizes His Word, and lives upon Himself. Now the like is true of missions. Apply the principle there. God bless missions. Our prayer goes up for them as warmly as for our soul's salvation. But the strength of missions must lie not so much in arrangements, in committees, in money, in men--as in waiting upon the Christ of God. We shall not do any more with a hundred thousand pounds than with a single thousand, unless we get more Divine Grace. We shall not have more souls won with fifty missionaries than with five, unless we get ten times the amount of power from the right hand of the Most High. The waking up in missions needs to begin in our Prayer Meetings, and in our Churches. In our personal wrestlings with God for the conversion of the heathen must lie the main strength of the workers that go out to do the deed. Let us remember this--Mary shall yet pour the box of ointment upon the head of the Anointed--Martha cannot do it. The same thing is true in revivals. Persons will talk about getting up a revival--of all things I do believe one of the most detestable of transactions. "If you want a revival of religion," it is said, "you, must get Mr. So-and-So to preach"--with him I suppose is the residue of the Spirit. Oh, but if you want a revival, you must adopt the methods so long in vogue, and so well known as connected with such-and-such a revival! I suppose the Spirit of God is no more a free Spirit, then, as He used to be in the olden times. And whereas of old He breathed where He wished, you fancy your methods and plans can control Him. It is not so. It is not so in any degree. The way to get the revival is to begin at the Master's feet! You must go there with Mary and afterwards you may work with Martha. When every Christian's heart is acting right by feeding on Christ's Word and drinking in Christ's Spirit, then will the revival come. When we had the long drought, some farmers watered their grass, but found it did but very little good. An Irish gentleman remarked in my hearing that he had always noticed that when it rained there were clouds about, and so all the air was in right order for the descent of rain. We have noticed the same, and it so happens that the clouds and general constitution of the atmosphere have much to do with the value of moisture for the herbs. It is no good watering them in the sun, the circumstances do not benefit them. So with revivals. Certain things done under certain circumstances become abundantly useful, but if you have not similar circumstances, you may use the same machinery, but mischief instead of good will follow. Begin yourself with the Master, and then go outward to His service, but plans of action must be secondary. So too, lastly, if you want to serve God, as I trust you do, I charge you first be careful of your own souls. Do not begin with learning how to preach, or how to teach, or how to do this and that. Dear Friend, get the strength within your own soul, and then even if you do not know how to use it scientifically, yet you will do much. The first thing is to get the heart warmed! Stir up your manhood! Brace up all your faculties! Get the Christ within you--ask the everlasting God to come upon you! Get Him to inspire you--and then if your methods should not be according to the methods of others it will not matter. Or if they should, neither will it be of consequence, Having the Power of the Holy Spirit, you will accomplish the results. But if you go about to perform the work before you have the strength from on High, you shall utterly fail. Better things we hope of you. God send them. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ A New Song For New Hearts (No. 928) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MAY 1, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "And in that day you shall say, O Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me." Isaiah 12:1. THIS prophesy is said by some to relate to the invasion by Sennacherib. That calamity threatened to be a very terrible display of Divine anger. It seemed inevitable that the Assyrian power would make an utter desolation of all Judea. But God promised that He would interpose for the deliverance of His people and punish the stout heart of the king of Assyria. And in that day His people should say, "We will praise You though You were angry with us, and therefore sent the Assyrian monarch to chastise us. Your anger is turned away, and You comfort us." If this is the meaning of it, it is an instance of sanctified affliction--and it is a lesson to us that whenever we smart under the rod, we may look forward to the time when the rod shall be withdrawn. And it is also an admonition to us that when we escape from trial we should take care to celebrate the event with grateful praise. Let us set up the pillar of memorial, let us pour the oil of gratitude upon it, and garland it with song, blessing the Lord whose anger endures but for a moment, but whose mercy is from everlasting to everlasting. It is thought by others that this text mainly relates to the latter days, and I think it would be impossible to read the eleventh chapter without feeling that such a reference is clear. There is to be a time when the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the lion shall eat straw like the ox, and the weaned child shall put his hand in the cockatrice den. Then the Lord will set His hand again, the second time, to recover the remnant of His people. Then He will repeat His wondrous works of Egypt and at the Red Sea, so that the song of Moses shall be rehearsed again, "The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation: He is my God, and I will prepare Him an habitation; my father's God, and I will exalt Him." In that day the Jewish people upon whose head the blood of Christ has come, who these many centuries have been a people scattered and peeled, and sifted as in a sieve throughout all nations--even these shall be restored to their own land--and the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth. They shall participate in all the glories of the millennial reign, and with joy shall they draw water out of the wells of salvation. In those days, when all Israel shall be saved, and Judah shall dwell safely, the jubilant thanksgiving shall be heard, "O Lord, I will praise You. For though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me." The whole people shall sing with such unanimity, with such undivided heart that they shall speak as though they were but one man. They shall use the singular where their numbers might require the plural, "I will praise You," shall be the exclamation of the once divided but then united people! Although both these interpretations are true, and both instructive, the text is many-sided and bears another reading. We shall find out the very soul of the passage if we consider it as an illustration of what occurs to every one of God's people when he is brought out of darkness into God's marvelous light. When he is delivered from the spirit of bondage beneath Divine wrath and led by the Spirit of Adoption into the liberty wherewith Christ makes him free. In that day I am sure these words are fulfilled. The Believer does then say right joyously, "O Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me." In regarding the text from this point of view, we shall first observe the prelude of this delightful song. And then, secondly, we shall listen to the song itself. I. First I shall ask your consideration of THE PRELUDE of this charming song. Here are certain preliminaries to the music. They are contained in the first line of the text. "In that day you shall say." Here we have the tuning of the harps, the notes of the music follow in the succeeding sentences. Much of instruction is couched in these seven words of prelude. Note then, first, there is a time for that joyous song which is here recorded. "In that day." The term, "that day," is sometimes used for a day of terror, and often for a period of blessing. The common term to both is this--they were both days of the manifestation of Divine power. "That day," a day of terrible confusion to God's enemies. "That day," a day of great comfort to God's friends. The day being in either case the time of the making bare of God's arm and the manifestation of His strength. Now, the day in which a man rejoices in Christ is the day in which God's power is revealed on his behalf in his heart and conscience, and the Holy Spirit subdues him to the reign of Christ. It is not always that God works with such effectual power as this in the human heart--He has His set times. Oftentimes the word of human ministry proves ineffectual--the preacher exhorts, the hearer listens, but the exhortation is not obeyed. It sometimes happens that even desires may be excited, and yet nothing is accomplished, for these better feelings prove to be as those spring blossoms on the trees which do not knit and fall fruitless to the ground. There is, however, an appointed time for the calling of God's elect, a set time in which the Lord visits His chosen with a power of Grace which they cannot effectually resist. He makes them willing in the day of His power. It is a day in which not only is the Gospel heard, but our report is believed, because the arm of the Lord is revealed. To everything, according to Solomon, there is a season--a time to break down and a time to build up. A time of war, and a time of peace. A time to kill, and a time to heal. And even so, there is a time for conviction and a time for consolation. With some who are in great distress of spirit, it may be God's time to wound and to kill. Their self-confidence is yet too vigorous, their carnal righteousness is yet too lively. Their confidences must be wounded, their righteousness must be killed. For otherwise they will not yield to Grace. God does not clothe us till He has stripped us. He does not heal till first He has wounded. How should He make alive those who are not dead? There is a work of Grace in the heart of digging out the foundations before Grace begins to build up our hopes--woe to that man who builds without having the foundation dug out--for his house will fall. Woe to that man who leaps into a sudden peace without ever having felt his need of pardon, without repentance, without brokenness of spirit. He shall see his hasty fruit wither before his eyes. The time when God effectually blesses is sometimes called "a time of love." It is a time of deep distress to us, but it is a time of love with God--a time wisely determined in the decree and counsel of the Most High--so that healing mercy arrives at the best time to each one who is interested in the Covenant of Grace. Someone may enquire, "When do you think will be the time when God will enable me to say, 'Your anger is turned away'? " My dear Brother, you can easily discern it! I believe God's time to give us comfort is usually when we are brought so low as to confess the justice of the wrath which He is pouring upon us. Humbleness of heart is one sure indication of coming peace. A German nobleman some years ago went over the galleys at Toulon. There he saw many men condemned by the French government to perpetual toil at the galley oar on account of their crimes. Being a prince in much repute, he obtained the favor that he should give liberty to one of the captives. He went about among them, and talked to them, but found in every case that they thought themselves wrongly treated, oppressed, and unrighteously punished. At last he met with one who confessed, "In my case my sentence is a most just and even a merciful one. If I had not been imprisoned in this way I should most likely have long ago been executed for some still greater crime. I have been a very great offender, and the law is doing nothing more than it ought to do in keeping me in confinement for the rest of my life." The German nobleman returned to the manager of the galleys and said, "This is the only man in all this gang that I would wish to set free, and I elect him for liberty." It is so with our great Liberator, the Lord Jesus Christ, when He meets with a soul that confesses its demerit, owns the justice of Divine wrath, and has not a word to say for itself. Then He says, "Your sins which are many are forgiven you." The time when His anger is turned away is the time when you confess the justice of His anger, and bow down and humbly entreat Him for mercy. Above all, the hour of Grace has struck when you look ALONE to Christ. While you are looking to any good thing in yourself, and hoping to grow better, or to do better, you are making no advances towards comfort. But when you give up in despair every hope that can be grounded in yourself and look away to those dear wounds of His--to that suffering humanity of the Son or God who stooped from Heaven for you--then has the day dawned wherein you shall say, "O Lord, I will praise You." I pray earnestly that this set time to favor you may be now come--the time when the rain is over, and the voice of the turtle is heard in your land. Looking again at the preliminaries of this song you notice that a word indicates the singer. "In that day you shall say." "You." It is a singular pronoun, and points out one individual. One by one we receive eternal life and peace. "You," the individual, "you," singled out to feel in your conscience God's wrath. You are equally selected to enjoy Jehovah's love. Ah, Brethren, it is never a day of Grace to us till we are taken aside from the multitude and set by ourselves. Our individuality must come out in conversion--even if it never appears at any other time. You fancy, so many of you, that it is all right with you because you live in a Christian nation. I tell you it is woe unto you! Having outward privileges they involve you in responsibilities, but bring you no saving Grace. Perhaps you fancy that your family religion may somewhat help you, and the erroneous practices of certain Christian Churches may foster this delusion, but it is not so. There is no birthright godliness--"You must be born again." The first birth will not help you, for, "That which is born of the flesh is flesh. And that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." Still, I know you fancy that if you mingle in godly congregations, and sing as they sing, and pray as they pray, it shall go well with you--but it is not so. The wicket gate of eternal life admits but one at a time. Is it not written, "You shall be gathered one by one, O you children of Israel"? Don't you know that when the fountain is opened in the house of David for sin and for uncleanness, it is declared by the Prophet Zechariah, "The land shall mourn, every family apart. The family of the house of David apart, and their wives apart. The family of the house of Nathan apart, and their wives apart. The family of the house of Levi apart, and their wives apart. The family of Shimei apart, and their wives apart. All the families that remain, every family apart, and their wives apart"! You must each one be brought to feel the Divine anger in your souls, and to have it removed from you, that you may rejoice in God as your salvation. Has it been so with you, then, dear Hearer? Are you that favored singer? Are you one of that chosen throng who can say, "Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me"? Away with generals. Be not satisfied except with particulars. Little matters it to you that Christ should die for ten thousand men, if you have no part in His death. Little blessing is it to you that there should be joy from myriads of hearts because they are pardoned if you should die unpardoned! Seek a personal interest in Christ, and do not be satisfied unless in your own heart you have it satisfactorily revealed that your sin in particular is by an act of Grace put away. I like to remember that this word, "you," is spoken to those who have been by sorrow brought into the last degree of despair. "In that day you shall say, though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away." You poor downtrodden Heart, where are you? You Woman of a sorrowful spirit, rejoice, for in that day of mercy you shall sing. You broken-hearted Sinner, ready to destroy yourself because of the anguish of conscience--in the day of God's abounding mercy you shall rejoice, even you--and your note shall be all the sweeter because you have had the most sin to be forgiven, and felt most the anger of God burning in your soul. Dwell on that, Mourners, and God grant it may be realized personally by yourselves. The next thing to be noted in the preliminaries is the Teacher. "In that day you shall say," who says this? It is God alone who can so positively declare, "you shall say." Who but the Lord can thus command man's heart and speech? It is the Lord alone. He who has made us is master of our spirits. By His Omnipotence He rules in the world of mind as well as matter, and all things happen as He ordains. He says, "In that day," that is, in God's own time, "you shall say." And He who thus declares will make good the word. Here is revealed God's will--and what the Lord wills shall be accomplished. What He declares shall be spoken, shall assuredly be spoken. Here is consolation to those feeble folk who fear the Word will not be fulfilled. "You shall say," is a Divine Word and cannot fail. The Lord, alone, can give a man the right to say, "Your anger is turned away." If any man presumes to say, "God has turned His anger away from me," without a warrant from the Most High, that man lies to his own confusion. But when it is written, "You shall say," it is as though God had said, "I will make it true, so that you shall be fully justified in the declaration." Yet more comfort is here, for even when the right to such a blessing is bestowed, we are often unable to enjoy it because of weakness. Unbelief is frequently so great that many things which are true we cannot receive. Under a sense of sin we are so desponding that we think God's mercy too great for us. And therefore we are not able to appropriate the blessing presented to us, though it is inexpressibly delightful. Blessed be God, the Holy Spirit knows how to chase away our unbelief and give us power to embrace the blessing! He can make us accept the Covenant favor and rejoice in it so as to avow the joy. There are some of you whom I have tried to induce to believe comfortable truths about yourselves, but you have fairly defeated me. I have put the Gospel plainly to you, for I have felt sure that its promises were meant for you. And I have said within my heart, "Surely they will be comforted this morning. Certainly their broken hearts will be bound up by that gracious Word." But oh, I cannot make you say, "Lord, I will praise You." I am unable to lead you to faith and peace. Here, however, is my joy--my Master can do what His servant cannot! He can make the tongue of the dumb sing. He delights to look after desperate cases. Man's extremity becomes His opportunity. Where the most affectionate words of ours fail, the consolations of His blessed Spirit are divinely efficacious. He cannot merely bring the oil and the wine, but He knows how to pour them into the wounds and heal the anguish of the contrite spirit. I pray the Master that He who alone can teach us to sing this song may graciously instruct those of you who have been seeking rest these many months, and finding none. "I am the Lord which teaches you to profit." He can put a song into your mouth, for nothing is beyond the range of Divine Grace. Once more. "In that day you shall say." Here is another preliminary of the song, namely, the tone of it. "You shall say, O Lord, I will praise You." The song is to be an open one, avowed, vocally uttered, heard of men and published abroad. It is not to be a silent feeling--a kind of soft music whose sweetness is spent within the spirit. No. In that day you shall say, you shall speak it outright, you shall testify and bear witness to what the Lord has done for you! When a man gets his sins forgiven he cannot help revealing the secret. "When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing." Even if the forgiven one could not speak with his tongue, he could say it with his eyes--his countenance, his man-ner--his very gait would betray him! The gracious secret would ooze out in some fashion. Spiritual men, at any rate, would find it out, and with thankfulness mark the joyful evidences. I know that before I found the Savior, had you known me, you would have observed my solitary habits. And if you had tracked me to my chamber, and to my Bible, and my knees, you would have heard groans and sighs which betokened a sorrowful spirit. The ordinary amusements of youth had in those days few attractions for me, and conversation, however cheerful, yielded me no comfort. But that very morning that I heard the Gospel message, "Look unto Me, and be you saved, all you ends of the earth," I am certain that no person who knew me could have helped remarking the difference even in my face! A change came over my spirits, which as I remember was even indicated in the way in which I walked, for the heavy step of melancholy was exchanged for a more cheerful pace. The spiritual condition affects the bodily state, and it was evidently so with me. My delight at being forgiven was no ordinary sensation, I could have fairly leaped for joy!-- "All through the night I wept full sore, But morning brought relief. That hand which broke my bones before, Then broke my bonds of grief. My mourning He to dancing turns, For sackcloth joy He gives, A moment, Lord, Your anger burns, But long Your favor lives." If I had not avowed my deliverance the very stones must have cried out! It was not in my heart to keep it back, but I am sure I could not have done so if I had desired. God's Grace does not come into the heart as a beggar into a barn, and lie hidden away as if it stole a night's lodging. No, its arrival is known all over the house, and every chamber of the soul testifies its presence! Grace is like a bunch of lavender--it discovers itself by its sweet smell. Like the nightingale it is heard where it is not seen. Like a spark which falls into the midst of straw it burns, and blazes, and consumes, and so reveals itself by its own energetic operations. O Soul, burdened with sin, if Christ does but come to you, and pardon you, I will be bound for it that before long all your bones shall say, "Lord, who is like unto You?" You will be of the same mind as David, "Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, You God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness." You will gladly say with him, "Your vows are upon me, O God: I will render praise unto You, for You have delivered my soul from death." Not only will you soberly tell what great things Divine Grace has worked for you, but it will be very unlikely that your exuberant joy may lead you beyond the bounds of solemn decorum. The precise and slow going will condemn you, but you need not mind, for you can offer the same excuse for it as David made to Michal when he danced before the ark. Far be it from me to condemn you, should you cry, "Hallelujah," or clap your hands! It is our cold custom to condemn every demonstration of feeling, but I am sure Scripture does not warrant us in our condemnation. For we find such passages as these, "O clap your hands, all you people! Shout unto God with the voice of triumph." "Praise Him upon the loud cymbals: praise Him upon the high sounding cymbals." What if the overflowing of holy joy should seem to be disorderly, what matters it if God accepts it? He who has long been in prison, when he gets his liberty may well take a frisk or two, and an extra leap for joy, and who shall begrudge him? He who has long been hungry and famished, when he sees the table spread, may be excused if he falls to with more of eagerness than politeness. Oh, yes, they shall say it, they shall say it, "I will praise You, O Lord!" In the very disorderli-ness of their demonstration they shall the more emphatically say, "I will praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away." Thus much on the prelude of the song. Now let us hear the song itself. II. In THE SONG ITSELF I would call to your notice the fact that all of it is concerning the Lord. It is all addressed to Him. "O Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry, Your anger is turned away." When a soul escapes from the bondage of sin and becomes consciously pardoned, it resembles the Apostles on the Mount Tabor, of whom we spoke the other Sunday morning. It sees no man, save Jesus only. While you are seeking Grace you think much of the minister, the service, the outward form--but the moment you find peace in God through the precious blood of Christ--you will think of your pardoning God only. Oh, how small everything becomes in the presence of that dear Cross where God the Savior loved and died! When we think of all our iniquity being cast into the depth of the sea we can no more boast of anything that was once our glory. The instrumentality by which peace came to us will be always dear to us. We shall esteem the preacher of the Gospel who brings salvation to us to be our spiritual father--but still we shall never think of praising him--we shall give all the glory to our God. As for ourselves, self will sink like lead amidst the waters when we find Christ. God will be All in All when iniquity is pardoned. I have often thought that if some of my Brethren who preach a Gospel in which there is little of the Grace of God had felt a little more conviction of sin in being converted, they would be sure to preach a clearer and more gracious Gospel. Many nowadays appear to leap into peace without any convictions of sin--they do not seem to have known what the guilt of sin means. They scramble into peace before the burden of sin has been felt. It is not for me to judge, but I must confess I have my fears of those who have never felt the terrors of the Lord. And I look upon conviction of sin as a good groundwork for a well-instructed Christian. I observe, as a rule, that when a man has been put in the prison of the Law. When he has been made to wear the heavy chains of conviction, and at last obtains his liberty through the precious blood of Christ, he is pretty sure to cry up the Grace of God and magnify Divine mercy. He feels that in his case salvation must be of Grace from first to last. And he naturally favors that system of theology which magnifies most the Grace of God. Those who have not felt this--whose conversion has been of the more easy kind, produced rather by excitement than by depth of thought--seem to me to choose a flimsy divinity in which man is more prominent, and God is less regarded. I am sure of this one thing--that I personally desire to ascribe conversion in my own case entirely to the Grace of God--and to give God the glory of it. And I dread that conversion which could in any degree deprive God of being in His everlasting decrees the cause of it, by His effectual Spirit the direct Agent of it, by His continued working through the Holy Spirit the Perfecter of it. Give God the praise, my Brethren. You must do so if you have thoroughly experienced what God's anger means, and what the turning away of it means. The next thing in this song is that it includes repentant memories. "O Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry with me." There was a time when God was to our consciousness angry with us. When was that? And how did we know that God was angry with us? Outsiders think when we talk about conversion that we are merely talking of sentimental theories. But let me assure you that it is as much matter offact to us with regard to our spiritual nature, as your feelings of sickness and of recovery are real and actual to you. Time was when some of us read the Word of God, as we read it, believing it to be an Inspired Book, we perceived that it contained a Law, holy and just--the breach of which was threatened with eternal death. As we read it we discovered that we had broken that Law, not in some points, but in all. And we were obliged, as we read it, to feel that all the sentences of that Book against sinners were virtually sentences against us. We may perhaps have read these chapters before, but we had given them no serious thought until on this occasion we were led to see that we stood condemned by the Law of God as contained in Holy Scripture. Then we felt that God was angry with us. It was not a mere idea of ours--we had this Book in evidence of it. If that Book were indeed true, we felt we were condemned. We dared not think the old Book to be a cunningly devised fable. We knew it was not, and therefore from its testimony we concluded that God was angry with us. At the same time we learned this terrible Truth from the Book--our conscience suddenly awoke and confirmed the fact, for it said--"What the Book declares is correct. The just God must be angry with such a sinful being as you are." Conscience brought to our recollection many things which we would gladly have forgotten. It revealed to us much of the evil of our hearts which we had no wish to know. And thus, as we looked at Scripture by the light of conscience, we concluded in ourselves that we were in a very dreadful plight, and that God was angry with us. Then there entered into us at the same time, over and above all the rest, a certain work of the Holy Spirit called conviction of sin. "When He, the Spirit of Truth is come," He shall convict the world of sin. He has come. And He has convicted us of sin in a way in which the Scripture would not have done apart from Him--and our conscience would not have done apart from Him. But His light shone in upon us and we felt as we never felt before. Then sin appeared exceedingly sinful, as it was committed against Infinite Love and goodness. Then it appeared to us as though Hell must soon swallow us up--and the wrath of God must devour us. Oh, the trembling and the fear, the dismay and the alarm which then possessed our spirits! And yet, my Brethren, at this very time, the remembrance of it is cause for thankfulness. In the Hebrew, the wording of our text is slightly different from what we get in the English. Our English translators have very wisely put in the word "though," a little earlier than it occurs in the Hebrew. The Hebrew would run something like this, "O Lord, I will praise You: You were angry with me." Now we do this day praise God that He made us feel His anger. "What?" you say. "What? Is a sense of anger a cause for praise?" No, my Brethren, not if it stood alone, but because it has driven us to Christ. If wrath had been laid up for us hereafter, it would be a cause of horror, deep and dread. But that it was let loose in measure upon us here, and that we were thus condemned in conscience that we might not be condemned at last is reason for much thankfulness. We should never have felt His love if we had not felt His anger. We laid hold on His mercy because of necessity. No soul will accept Christ Jesus until it must. It is not driven to faith until it is driven to self-despair. God's angry face makes Christ's loving face dear to us. We would never look at the Christ of God, unless first of all the God of Christ had looked at us through the tempest and made us afraid. "I will praise You, that You did let me feel Your anger, in order that I might be driven to discover how that anger could be turned away." So you see the song in its deep bass note includes plaintive recollections of sin pressing heavily on the spirit. The song of our text contains in itself blessed certainties. "I will praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away." Can a man know that? Can a man be quite sure that he is forgiven? Yes, that he can. He can be as sure of pardon as he is of his existence, as infallibly certain as he is of a mathematical proposition. "No," says one, "but how is it?" My Brother, albeit that this is a matter for spiritual men, yet at the same time it is a matter of certainty as clearly as anything can be ascertained by human judgment. The confidence of a man's being pardoned, and God's anger being turned away from him is not based upon his merely feeling that it is so. Nor his merely believing that it is go. You are not pardoned because you work yourself up into a comfortable frame of mind and think you are pardoned. That may be a delusion. You are not necessarily delivered from God's anger because you believe you are--you may be believing a lie, and may believe what you like--but that does not make it true. There must be a fact going before, and if that fact is not there, you may believe what you choose, but it is pure imagination, nothing more. On what ground does a man know that God's anger is turned away? I answer thus, on the ground of this Book. "It is written," is our basis of assurance. I turn to this Book, and I discover that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came into this world and became the Substitute for a certain body of men. That He took their sins, and was punished in their place in order that God, without the violation of His justice, might forgive as many as are washed in Christ's blood. My question then is, for whom did Christ die? The moment I turn to the Scriptures, I find very conspicuously on its page this declaration, that "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." I am a sinner, that I am clear of. That gives me some hope. But I next find that, "He that believes on Him is not condemned." Looking to myself I find that I do really believe, that is, I trust Jesus. Very well, then, I am sure I am not condemned, for God has declared I am not. I read again, "He that believes and is baptized shall be saved." I know that I have believed, that is to say, trusted--I trust my salvation with Christ. And I have also, in obedience to His command been baptized--then I am saved, and shall be saved, for it says so. Now this is a matter of Testimony which I receive. He that believes in Christ receives the Testimony of God--and that is the only Testimony he wants. I know it has been thought that you get some special revelation in your own soul--some flash, as it were, of light-- some extraordinary intimation. But nothing of the kind is absolutely needed. I know that the Spirit bears witness with our spirits that we are born of God. But the first essential matter is God's witness in the Word. "He that believes not God, has made Him a liar, because he believes not the record that God gave of His Son." God's witness concerning His Son is this--that if you trust His Son you are saved. His Son suffered for you. His Son bore the punishment that was due for your sins--God declares it--that you are forgiven for Christ's sake. He cannot punish twice for one offense--first His Son and then you. He cannot demand retribution from His Law to vindicate His justice, first from your Substitute and then from you. Was Christ your Substitute? That is the question. He was if you trust Him--your trusting Him is the evidence that He was a Substitute for you. Now see, then, the moment I, being under His anger, have come to trust my soul forever in the hands of Christ, God's anger is turned away from me because it was turned upon Christ. And I stand, guilty sinner as I am in myself, absolved before God--and feel that none can lay anything to my charge, for my sins were laid on Christ, and punished upon Christ--and I am clear. And now what shall I say unto the Lord, but, "I will praise You: for though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me." It is a matter of certainty. It is not a matter of "if," "and," or "but." It is a fact. This morning you are either forgiven or you are not. You are either clean in God's sight or else the wrath of God abides on you. And I beseech you, do not rest till you know which it is. If you find out that you are unforgiven, seek the Savior. "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." But if you believe in Him, you are no longer guilty--you are forgiven. Do not sit down and fret as if you were guilty, but enjoy the liberty of the children of God. Being justified by faith, have peace with God through Jesus Christ your Lord. Time fails me, but I must add that our song includes holy resolutions--"I will praise You." I will do it with my heart in secret. I will get alone and make my expressive silence sing Your praise. I will sit and pour out liquid songs in tears of gratitude, welling up from my heart. I will praise You in the Church of God, for I will search out other Believers, and I will tell them what God has done for me. I will cast in my lot with Your people--if they are despised, I will bear the shame with them--and count it honor. I will unite myself to them, and help them in their service. And if I can magnify Christ by my testimony among them, I will do it. I will praise You in my life. I will make my business praising You. I will make my parlor and my drawing room, I will make my kitchen and my fields praise You. I will not be content unless all I am and all I have shall praise You. I will make a harp of the whole universe. I will make earth and Heaven, space and time to be but strings upon which my joyful fingers shall play lofty tunes of thankfulness. I will praise You, O my God! My heart is fixed, I will sing and give praise-- and when I shall die, or rather pass from this life to another, I who have been forgiven so much sin through such a Savior, will, by Your Grace, continue to praise You-- "Oh, how I long to join the choir Who worship at His feet! Lord, grant me soon my heart's desire! Soon, soon Your work complete!" Note once more that this is a song which is peculiar in its character, and appropriate only to the people of God. I may say of it, "no man could learn this song but the redeemed." He only who has felt his vileness, and has had it washed away in the "fountain filled with blood," can know its sweetness. It is not a Pharisee's song--it has no likeness to, "God I thank You that I am not as other men." It confesses, "You were angry with me," and there owns that the singer was even as others. But it glories that through infinite mercy the Divine anger is turned away. And herein it leans on the appointed Savior. It is not a Sadducean song, no doubt mingles with the strain. It is not the philosopher's query, "There may be a God, or there may not be," it is the voice of a believing worshipper. It is not, "I may be guilty, or I may not be." It is all posi- tive, every note of it. "You were angry with me." I know it, I feel it, yet, "Your anger is turned away." Of this, too, I am sure. I believe it upon the witness of God! I cannot doubt His Word. It is a song of strong faith, and yet of humility. Its spirit is a precious incense made up of many costly ingredients. We have, here, not one virtue, alone, but many rare excellences. Humility confesses, "You were angry with me." Gratitude sings, "Your anger is turned away." Patience cries, "You comfort me," and holy joy springs up, and says, "I will praise You." Faith, hope, and love all have their notes here, from the bass of humility up to the highest alto of glorious communion, all the different parts are represented. It is a full song--the swell of the diapason of the heart! I have done when I have said just these words by way of practical result from the subject. One is a word of consolation--consolation to you who are under God's anger this morning. My heart goes out after you. I know what your sorrow is. I knew it by the space of five years at a time--when I mourned the guilt and curse of sin. Ah, poor Soul, you are in a sad plight, indeed. But be of good cheer! You have in your bosom, if you will believe me, a key which will open every lock in Doubting Castle wherein you are now confined. If, Man, you have but heart to take it out of your bosom, and out of the Word of God--and use it--liberty is near. I will show you that key--look at it, "Him that comes unto Me I will in no wise cast out." "Oh, but that does not happen to fit," you say. Well, here's another--"The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses from all sin." Does not that meet your case? Then let me try again--"He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him." "To the uttermost"--dwell on that and be comforted! I never knew God to shut a soul up in the prison of conviction but He sooner or later released the captive. The Lord will surely bring you out of the low dungeon of conviction. The worst thing in the world is to go unchastened--to be allowed to sin and eat honey with it--this is the precursor of damnation. But to sin, and have the wormwood of repentance with it--this is the prelude of being saved! If the Lord has embittered your sin, He has designs of love towards you. His anger shall yet be turned away. "When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue fails for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them. I the God of Israel will not forsake them." The next is a word of admonition. Some of you have been forgiven, but are you praising God as you should? I have heard say that in our Churches there are no more than five per cent who are doing any real work for Christ. That is not true of this Church. I should be very sorry if it were, but I fear there are more than five per cent who are doing nothing. Where are you who have felt His anger pass away, and yet are not praising Him? Come, bestir yourself, bestir yourself! Seek to serve Jesus! Do you not know that you are meant to be the winners of souls? The American bee keeper, when he wants to collect a hive, catches first a single bee. He puts it in a box with a piece of honeycomb and shuts the door. After awhile, when it is well fed, he lets it out. It comes back again after more of the sweet, but it brings companions with it. And when they have eaten the honey they always bring yet a more numerous band, so by-and-by there is a goodly muster for the hive. After this fashion ought you to act. If you have found mercy, you ought to praise God and tell others, so that they may believe. And in their turn lead others to Jesus. This is the way the kingdom of God grows. I am afraid you are guilty here. See to it, dear Brother. See to it, dear Sister--and who can tell of what use you may yet be? There was a dear servant of Christ who was just on the borders of the grave, very old and very ill, and frequently delirious, so that the doctors said no one must go into the chamber except the nurse. A little Sunday school boy, who was rather curious, peeped in at the door to look at the minister, and the poor dying servant of God saw him, and the ruling passion was strong in death. He called him. "David," said he, "did you ever close in with Christ? I have done so many a time, and I long that you may." Fifty years after, that boy was living and bearing testimony that the dying words of the good man had brought him to Jesus--for by them he was led to close in with Christ. You do not know what half a word might do if you would but speak it! O keep not back the good news that might bring salvation to your wife, to your husband, to your child, to your servant! If you have, indeed, felt the Lord's anger pass away this morning, go home to your chamber, and on your knees repeat this vow, "My God, I will praise You! I have been a sluggard, I have been very silent about You. I am afraid I have not given You of my substance as I ought. I am sure I have not given You of my heart as I should. But oh, forgive the past, and accept Your poor servant yet again. 'Then I will praise You. For though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me.' " God bless you, for Christ's sake. __________________________________________________________________ The Model Home Mission and the Model Home Missionary (No. 929) DELIVERED ON THURSDAY EVENING, APRIL 14, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, "Who went about doing good." Acts 10:38. In aid of the Funds of the Baptist British and Irish Home Missionary Society. OUR Lord's public ministry on earth was a Home Mission. He Himself said to His disciples, "I am not sent save to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." He went to the very borders of the Holy Land. But there He stayed, and north and south, east and west, in all directions, in towns and in villages, He itinerated preaching to His own countrymen. Afterwards there sprang out of His home work what may be called the foreign Mission, when they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the Gospel. And thus the blessing of Israel became a blessing to all nations. It was always the Lord's intention that the Gospel should be preached to every creature under Heaven, but, so far as His own work was concerned, He began at home. And herein we see His wisdom, for it will be of little avail to attempt much abroad unless there is a solid basis at home, in an earnest sanctified Church, affording a fulcrum for our lever. We want to see England converted to Christ, and then shall she become the great herald of Christ's Gospel to other lands. As things now are, our soldiers and sailors are, too often, witnesses against the Gospel. And our travelers of all grades in foreign countries too frequently give an impression very unfavorable to the Cross of Christ. We want to have this nation saturated through and through with the Spirit of Jesus Christ. We want all its darkness chased away and the true light made to shine--then Missionary operations will receive a wonderful impetus. God will make His Truth to be known in all nations when He has first caused His face to shine upon His chosen. We shall now speak about Home Mission work under two heads. First, we have before us a Model Home Mission. And secondly a model Home Missionary. When we have talked about these two things, we shall press a third point, namely, the duty of imitating the works of the great Master. I. First, then, we have before us A MODEL HOME MISSION. We see sketched in the text the great Home Mission which was conducted by the Lord Jesus Christ, "who went about doing good." I am sure we shall learn much if we consider the way in which He conducted that enterprise. In commencing His work He selected as His great instrument the preaching of the Gospel. The Lord had anointed Him to preach the Gospel. He performed thousands of gracious actions. He officiated in many ways for the good of His fellow men, and for the glory of God. But His Throne on earth, if I might so speak, was the pulpit. It was when He began to declare the Gospel of the kingdom that His true glory was seen. "Never man spoke like this Man." Brethren, He would have His followers depend upon the same agency. The scattering of religious books and the institution of schools and other godly efforts are not to be neglected. But first and foremost it pleases God by the foolishness ofpreaching to save them that believe. The cardinal duty of the Christian Church is thus laid down, "Go you into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." Notwithstanding all that may be said about the advance of the times, and the non-adaptation of the pulpit to this present age, we shall be very foolish if we imagine that we have found a better instrumentality than that which Jesus selected and which His Father so highly blessed. Let us stand to our preaching like soldiers to their guns. The pulpit is the Thermopylae of Christendom where our foes shall receive a check. The field of Waterloo on which they shall sustain a defeat. Let us preach, and preach evermore. Let us continue sounding, even if it is but the rams' horns, for by-and-by the walls of Jericho shall fall flat to the ground. Preach, preach, preach! The Master's life clearly tells us that if we would save souls and glorify God we must constantly proclaim the Gospel of the kingdom. In connection with His own personal preaching, we find the Master forming a seminary for the training of ministers. Those who have, at any time, thought properly conducted collegiate institutions to be unscriptural can hardly understand the action of our Lord in retaining under His own eyes a band of scholars, who afterwards became teachers. After He had called Peter and John, and some few others, He at first admitted them, as it were, into His evening classes. For they pursued their ordinary business, and came to Him at fitting seasons for instruction. But after awhile they separated themselves from all the pursuits of business, and were continual with their great Teacher. They learned how to preach as they marked how He preached. He even taught them to pray, as John also taught his disciples. Many dark subjects which He did not explain to the people, we are told He opened up to the disciples. He took them aside and gave them the mysteries of the kingdom, while to the rest of the people the Truth was only spoken in parables. Now, this has been too much forgotten in the Church, and needs to be brought to our remembrance. Among the Vaudois and the Waldenses, every pastor of the Church was always intensely earnest to find out others who would become pastors--therefore each one had a young Brother under his care. In the journeys of the shepherds of the Vaudois Church, as they passed from crag to crag, each one of the venerable men was usually accompanied by some strong young mountaineer, who, in return for the physical help which he gave to the venerable father, received instruction from him in the doctrines of the Gospel, in Church government, and in other things which appertained to the ministry. In this way the Israel of the Alps was enabled to perpetuate its testimony, and the office of the preacher of the Gospel never fell into disuse. When in the days of the blessed Reformation, Calvin and Luther exerted an influence over Europe, it was not only through their own preaching, mighty as that was--nor through their writings--though these were scattered broadcast like the leaves of autumn. It was also through the innumerable young men who swarmed at Wurtenburg and came together at Geneva to listen to the great Reformers' teaching and then afterwards went forth themselves into other lands to tell abroad what they had learned. Our Master sets before us the fact that no fitter instrument for spreading the Gospel can be devised than a man raised up by God to speak the Gospel who is able to attract to his feet others who shall catch his spirit, profit by his example, receive his doctrines, and go forth to preach the same Word. It would be correct to add that the Master also connected with His preaching and His college the invaluable agency of Bible classes. Indeed, I believe that the whole machinery of a zealous Christian Church can be found in embryo in the doings of Christ. And if His blessed life of holy labor were more thoroughly studied, new organizations for enlightening the world and for building up the Church would soon be thought of, and the best results would follow. Our Lord talked to His disciples--occasionally one by one, sometimes when He found them in pairs. And at other seasons He addressed the Apostles as a whole, " expounding unto them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself." The Apostles were evidently well acquainted with the Scriptures, and yet I do not suppose that all the population of Palestine were so well trained. They must, therefore, have learned of Jesus. Peter's first sermon shows his acquaintance with the Old Testament, and the speech of Stephen manifests remarkable familiarity with Scripture history. Such knowledge was not, I think, general, but was the result of constant communion with a Teacher whose references to the Inspired Volume were so constant. His readings of the holy Book, His interpretations, His quotations, His illustrations all tended to make His disciples men well instructed in the Law and the Prophets. And the inmost meaning of the Word was laid bare to them in the Person of their Lord Himself. If any Home Mission would see its work established, so as to endure the test of years, next to the ordinance of preaching, its ministry must be careful to exercise diligence in training up the converts in the knowledge of the written Word. The Bible must be read intelligently and its meaning clearly set forth. The memory must become familiar with its very words, and the heart with its inner spirit. We must seek gracious men and women who will labor in this needful ministry. No minister can afford to neglect the constant Scriptural tuition of his people, and if he is negligent of it, do not be surprised if grievous wolves enter into the Church and devour the flock. That our young men and women may not be carried about with every wind of doctrine, but may be steadfast, unmovable--is our bounden duty to instruct them in the Divine Word with laborious care and constancy. Notice, moreover, that our Lord's Mission work did not overlook the children. Our noble system of Sunday school work is not only justified, but even enforced by the example and precept of our Lord when he said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." And also by His saying to Peter, "Feed My lambs." The injunctions which bid us look after our adult converts who come under the denomination of "sheep," are no more valid than the command which bids us took after the young, and the tender, who are intended by the term "lambs." True Mission work, therefore, if any of you will undertake it, must carefully regard children. Moses would not leave even the little ones in Egypt. Even the youthful Israelites ate of the paschal lamb. Our work is sadly faulty if it has no bearing upon the young men and maidens, the boys and the girls. I am afraid that much of our public preaching is blameworthy in this respect. I feel, myself, that I do not say as much in my general sermons as I ought to do to the children of my congregation. I do insert stories and parables here and there, but if I shall ever reach my own ideal of preaching, I shall far more frequently let fall handfuls on purpose for the young. Sermons should be like a Mosaic, and the sparkling pieces which catch the infant eyes should abound. Our discourses should be as Isaiah says, "wine and milk"--wine for men and milk for babes. Out of our pulpits we must be the friends of the children, for then we trust they will grow up to be friends to us and to our Master. Our model Mission bends its strength to the cultivation of juvenile piety, and makes this department of effort second to none. We now proceed a step farther. Of late there has been frequently used by earnest Evangelists in the more populous parts of London the plan of free teas, free breakfasts, and free dinners--at which the poorest persons are brought together and fed, and are then affectionately exhorted to seek salvation. It is remarkable that this method has been so long disused, because it is, with a small difference, a plan adopted by our Lord. On two occasions at least, He spread a free repast for thousands of the famishing, disdaining not to provide food for the bodies of those whose souls He had blessed with the Word of Life. On those two occasions the generous Master of the feast gave His crowd of guests a good substantial meal of bread and fish. I have often wondered why those two viands were in each case selected, perhaps it was that both land and sea should be declared to be the storehouse of Providence. He gave not bread alone. His fare was not stingy. He would not merely stay their hunger, but He would afford them a relish to their bread, and therefore He gave them bread and fish. Agreeable, sufficient, healthful and satisfying refreshment the Lord dispensed at His table in the wilderness. Though many, no doubt, followed Him because they did eat of those loaves and fishes, yet I do not doubt that some who were first attracted by the earthly food remained to eat of the Bread of Heaven, and embraced those precious Truths which at first were foolishness unto them. Yes, my Friends, if we want to get at our starving people, if we would reach the most degraded and the poorest of the poor, we must use such means as these, for Jesus did. A Mission would also find great strength in imitating Jesus by combining medical aid with religious teaching. Our Lord was a medical Missionary--He not only preached the Gospel, but He opened the eyes of the blind, cured those who were afflicted with fevers, made the lame to leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb to sing. You may say that all this was miracle. I grant it, but the mode of performing the cure is not the point in hand. I am speaking of the thing itself. True enough is it that we cannot work miracles, but we may do what is within human reach in the way of healing, and so we may follow our Lord, not with equal footsteps, but in the same track. I rejoice to see in Edinburgh and in Glasgow, and also in London, the establishment of Medical Missions. I believe that in some parts of London nothing would be so likely to do good to the people as to make the vestry a dispensary, and the godly surgeon a deacon of the Church, if not an Evangelist. It may one day be thought possible to have deaconesses whose self-denying nursing of the sick poor shall introduce the Gospel into the meanest hovels. At any rate, there should be associated with the City Missionary, with the Bible-woman, and with Home Missions everywhere, to as great a degree as may be possible, the earnest aid of beloved physicians and men learned in the healing art, who should seek to do good to men's eyes, and ears, and legs, and feet, while others of us look to their spiritual infirmities. Many a young man who goes forth as a minister of Christ would do much more good if he understood a little anatomy and medicine. He might be a double blessing to a remote hamlet or to a district crowded with the poor. I pray for a closer connection between the surgeon and the Savior. I would invoke the aid of truly believing members of the faculty. May there be many who, like Luke, are both physicians and Evangelists. Perhaps some Christian young man walking the hospitals, and fearing God, may find in these hints a guide as to his future career. In addition to this, let me say that our Lord Jesus Christ also associated with His Mission-work the distribution of alms. He was very poor. Foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests, but He, the Son of Man, had not where to lay His head. Out of the gifts of the faithful who ministered to His necessities there was but little to spare. These gifts were put into a bag and entrusted to Judas, and we discover, incidentally, that the Master was likely to distribute from this slender store to the poor around Him. Brethren, it is to be feared that some Churches fall behind in this matter of almsgiving, a matter which at the Judgment Day will occupy a very conspicuous place, "I was hungry and you gave Me meat." The Romish Church has abounded in the practice of almsgiving, and if her mode of distributing were as wise as her manner of contributing is generous, she would deserve much commendation in this respect. Brethren, because we feel that we are justified by faith and not by works, are we to cease from good works and suffer the giving of alms to drift into the background? Such is now the rage for centralization, and so eager are some for the suppression of all personal charity that it may one day become an indictable offense to give away a sixpence to a starving woman until you have consulted the police, the Poor Law Board, or some association for giving away paper tickets instead of bread. Public opinion demands the publication of all our gifts, and ignores the old-fashioned command, "Let not your right hand know what your left hand does." We are all to be made wheels in the engine of a society to give our alms by clock work, and relieve the poor by machinery. For one, I shall always recommend Christian people to be a little eccentric in their benevolence. Without decrying societies, I shall urge godly men to judge for themselves as to the poverty of each case, and to give for themselves, apart from those various associations which cut and dry benevolence till it becomes a mere skeleton. I am a firm believer in the Gospel of the barley loaves and fishes. I believe in the Gospel of feeding the hungry and clothing the naked. I like the story that I heard the other day of a poor man who was found in the street one Sunday morning as he was about to commit suicide. Two of our Brethren met him, and led him to this Tabernacle, but they knew better than to bring him to hear a sermon while he was hungry. On the road they took him to a coffee shop, and gave him a cup of hot coffee and some bread and butter. And then they brought him to hear the discourse. I had a far more likely hearer in the man whose hunger was relieved than I could have had in the poor famishing sinner. Then, after the sermon was over, they took care to find him a good dinner, and so detained him till they brought him here again in the evening and God was pleased to bless the Word to him. Rest assured that the Master's opening blind eyes, the Master's feeding the multitude, and the Master's relief of the poor were all indications to the Christian Church that clothing societies and soup kitchens, and benevolent associations, are legitimate aids to the spread of the Gospel. Our Master's Mission had one point in it which we ought never to forget, namely, that it was carried on very largely through open-air preaching. I remember well the time when it really seemed an outrageous novelty for a man to preach in the streets. I remember proposing, twenty years ago, to my good deacons in the country that I should preach on the Sunday evening by the riverside, and the remark was made by one of them, "Ah, I do not like it, it is imitating the Methodists." To him as a sound Calvinist it was a dreadful thing to do anything which Methodists were guilty of. To me, however, that was more a recommendation than otherwise, and I was happy to run the risk of being called Methodist. All over England, in our cities, towns, villages, and hamlets, there are tens of thousands who never will hear the Gospel while open-air preaching is neglected. I believe that God allows us to preach in Churches and chapels, but I do not believe that we have any Apostolic precedent for it, certainly none for confining our ministry to such places. I believe that we are allowed, if it promotes order and edification, to set apart buildings for our worship. But there is no warrant for calling these places sanctuaries and Houses of God, for all places are alike holy where holy men assemble. It is altogether a mischievous thing that we should confine our preaching within walls. Our Lord, it is true, preached in the synagogues, but He often spoke on the mountain's side, or from a boat, or in the court of a house, or in the public thoroughfares. To Him an audience was the only necessity. He was a fisher of souls of the true sort, and not of the modern order who sit in their houses and expect the fish to come to them to be caught. Did our Lord intend a minister to go on preaching from his pulpit to empty pews, when by standing on a chair or a table outside the meeting house he might be heard by hundreds? Of course, if the crowd fills the house, and it is as large as the human voice can fill, there is the less need for us to go out into the streets. But, alas, there are places of worship in London by scores, not one-fourth or even one-tenth filled, and yet the preacher goes on contentedly! A minister is living in positive sin who constantly preaches to a mere handful within walls, while outside there are crowded courts and lanes, and alleys, where men are perishing for lack of knowledge. The minister who does his duty goes out into the highways and hedges. He goes into all the world. He preaches whether men will hear or whether they will forbear, and delights to make hills and woods ring with the message of peace! Our Lord also set an example to Home Missionaries, in the fact that He had pity on the villages. Small villages are often thought to be too insignificant for the founding of Churches in them. But the villages help to make the large towns, and the character of the citizens of this great London of ours depends very much upon the character of the village homes from which so many of our fellow citizens are drawn. We must never neglect the smallest hamlet, but seek as far as we can, to reach even the little knots of cottages that stand by twos and threes on lone heaths and desolate moors. At the same time, the Master also gave much attention to the towns. Capernaum and Bethsaida were not forgotten. Jerusalem frequently echoed with His voice. Where the crowds assembled at the solemn festivals, which were something like the gatherings at our markets and fairs, Christ was heard lifting up His voice, and crying, "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink." The Home Missionary must avail himself of all gatherings of his fellow men for whatever objects they may have come together. And in every place he must proclaim the Gospel, seeking by any means to save some. This and much more may be gathered from the life of Jesus of Nazareth, "a Prophet mighty in deed and word." II. I shall now pass on to notice, in the second place, THE MODEL HOME MISSIONARY. My Brethren, after all, the success of a work depends very little upon the system which is adopted in carrying it out--almost everything rests under God--not upon the man. There have been men who, with systems unwise and imperfect, have, nevertheless, accomplished noble results, while others with admirable organizations have done nothing, because they were not the right men. Who, then, is the fittest man to be a Missionary for Christ? Who is the woman that can best serve her God? Behold the Model Missionary in the Person of the Lord Jesus. The man who is to serve God as a leading Missionary must be a man of teaching power and of personal influence. It is of no use to send out as a Missionary a man who cannot speak. And yet there are many places where the people are without a minister, if speaking power is an essential qualification for that office. Why, you may frequently hear the preacher mumble so dreadfully that you can hardly follow his words. Or he is a mere reader, or else a prosy reciter of very heavy matter. In the Established Church, the very last thing that is looked into when a young man enters "holy orders," as they call them, is whether he has gifts of utterance, or in other words, whether he is qualified by nature and by Divine Grace to be a preacher. That some very admirable and excellent persons enter the Church is cheerfully granted, but none the less we believe such a system to be essentially bad. If you want a man to spread the Gospel among his fellow men, he must be one who can preach. He must be apt to teach. He must have a way of making plain what he means, and of winning attention, so that men may be willing to listen to him. Our Lord had this grand capacity in the highest degree. He could bring the most sublime truths down to the level of His hearers' comprehension. He knew how, with a Divine simplicity, to tell a story that would win even a child's attention. And though the Truth He spoke was such that archangels might well marvel at it, yet He put it into such a form that the little children gathered around Him, and the common people heard Him gladly. Aptness to teach--this is what we need. Pray, my Brethren, the Lord of the Harvest to send us many who have this choice gift. The pulpit, the Sunday school, and every form of Christian service need earnest workers who have the power of translating their thoughts into the language of those with whom they come in contact, so that they may be interested and impressed. But there were higher qualifications than these. Our Lord as a Missionary was a Man who fraternized with the people. I do not think He ever passed a person on the road concerning whom He said to Himself, "I am so much above that man that I will not speak to him." I could hardly dare to imagine Him saying such words. It would so lower the Savior to imagine such a thing. And yet, and yet, and yet--some of His ministers have thought so! How many of us, if we had seen a poor harlot coming to the well would have remained sitting by it purposely to converse with her? If we had seen her coming, knowing her character, we should probably have moved off, and have eased our conscience with the notion that hers was a case more suitable for someone else to deal with. In fact, a matter to be left to an agent of the Rescue Society. Our Lord made no affectation of condescending or of patronizing the poor Samaritan sinner, but as naturally as possible, with every appearance of ease, He at once began to talk with her. If she had been a noble lady in the land He could not have fraternized more thoroughly with her, and yet He in no way connived at her sin. Our Lord received sinners and ate with them. They must have seen how different He was from themselves, but He affected no distance. He pretended to no caste. He drew no lines of social demarcation. He was not a Pharisee, who stood apart in his pious eminence--pride and assumed dignity had no attractions for Him. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners in the highest and best of senses, but in other respects He was the friend of publicans and sinners. If we are to have London blessed, it will never be by ministers who are too great to speak to the poorest of the people. Nor will your benevolent societies work much good if your lordships and ladyships cannot mingle with the humbler classes. We must be one with those whom we would bless. We must not be ashamed to call them Brethren. We must without being conscious of stooping, reach out a fraternal hand to the fallen and the degraded, that we may lift them up for Christ's sake. O for men and women of the true brotherly and sisterly spirit--bone of the people's bone and flesh of their flesh! Our Lord, again, was a man who could toil. He was by no means a gentleman at large, amusing His leisure with lecturing. He never preached a sermon without weaving His soul into it. He was by no means the kind of Evangelist who finds His task a light one. He could not, as some do, preach by the year without disturbing the placid current of His own emotions. No, my Brethren, never preacher worked more intensely than Jesus did--by day preaching, by night praying, oftentimes faint through weariness, and yet not finding time so much as to eat bread. Whoever did not labor, Christ did. He is the Master Worker of all the sons of men. If we all must eat bread in the sweat of our faces, much greater was His toil when He brought the Bread of Life to us by the bloody sweat of Gethsemane, and by the life-sweat of every day of His three years' ministry. His life was a scene of unrivalled labor. We can hardly conceive how thoroughly our Redeemer laid Himself out for us. Now, if the Church would see souls saved, the work will never be achieved by agents who are half asleep. Christ's kingdom will never be extended by persons who are afraid of labor. God will bless His Church by the power of the Holy Spirit, for all the power lies there--but He will have His Church travail--or the blessing will not come. For a Home Missionary we want a man who can pray as the Master prayed. What a proficient in the art of prayer was Jesus! He was as great with God in prayer as He was with man in preaching. I heard a Brother speak the other day of our Lord's coming from the mountainside with the wild flowers on His garments, and the smell of the heather on His vesture, for He came fresh from the lone spot where He had spent the night in prayer. Ah, my Brethren, here is the center of power! Prayer breaks hearts. These granite rocks will never yield to our hammers till we go down on our knees to smite. If we prevail with God for men, we shall prevail with men for God. The main work of the minister must be done alone. Let him do as he pleases when the multitude are listening, he shall not bring them to Christ unless he has pleaded for them when none heard him but his God. Our Home Mission needs men who can pray. And, Brethren, if we are to secure useful men and women we must choose those who can weep. That is a fine faculty, that emotional power of the heart which makes the passions boil, and rise within like steaming vapors, till at last like the waters of dropping wells, they are condensed and fall in showers from our eyes! I do not covet that moistness of the eyes which some exhibit as the result of optical weakness or effeminacy of constitution--but manly weeping is a mighty thing. Our Lord Jesus was thoroughly a Man--far too masculine to fall into sentimentalism and affectation--but when He beheld the city, and knew all the sufferings that would come upon it from the siege as a punishment for its sin, He could not restrain the floods. His great soul ran over at His eyes. If He had not been a man who could weep Himself, He could not, humanly speaking, have made others weep. You must feel yourselves if you would make other men feel. You cannot reach my heart till first of all your heart comes to meet mine. Lord, send into Your field men of strong emotional natures whose eyes can be fountains of tears. To crown all, our blessed Lord was one who knew how to die! Oh, when shall we have men and women sent among us who are prepared to die in order to accomplish their lifework? I have shuddered, and all the more so because I might do no better myself, when I have heard excuses for avoiding risks of life, and reasons for escaping hardships in foreign lands. It has been even questioned in some quarters, whether a man would be right in exposing himself to danger of life in order to preach the Gospel. I could say much, but would be sparing of censure. Only this I must say--until Divine Grace shall restore to us the ancient Apostolic self-sacrifice, we may not expect to see the Gospel conquering to any high degree. Zeal for God's House must eat us up. Love of life must yield to love of souls. Trials must be counted as nothing for Christ's sake, and death must be defied, or we shall never capture the world for Jesus. They who wear soft raiment will never win Ireland, or Africa, or India for Christ. The man who considers himself, and makes provision for the flesh, will do little or nothing. Christ revealed the great secret when it was said of Him, "He saved others, Himself He cannot save." In proportion as a man saves himself he cannot save others. And only in proportion as he is carried away with self-sacrifice, willing to renounce luxuries, comforts, necessities, and even life, itself--only in that proportion will he succeed. I trust that no Missionary's life may be lost, but I trust that if the Church can only bring the world to Christ by the deaths of her ministers, all our lives may be sacrificed--for what are we, my Brethren, what is any one of us--compared with the accomplishment of our Redeemer's work? Our sires went to the stake with songs upon their lips. Our ancestors were confessors who dared the barbarous cruelties of Northern hordes, and the refined persecution of Southern superstition. They were men who could die but could not refrain from witnessing for the Lord. We must quit ourselves like men for Christ. And though we may not all be called to make the extreme sacrifice, we must be ready for it. And if we shrink from it we are not the men for such a time as this. We want men who can toil, men who can pray, men who can weep, men who can die. In fact, we need for Christ's work men all ablaze with consecrated fervor, men under a Divine impulse, like arrows shot from the bow of the Almighty flashing straight to the target. Men like thunderbolts launched by the Eternal to go crashing through every difficulty with irresistible energy of aim. We want a Divine enthusiasm to fire us, an Almighty impetus to urge us on. Only men thus filled with the Holy Spirit shall accomplish largely the work of God. III. My last point was to be, if Christ lived thus, and worked thus, LET US HEAR HIS CALL AND IMITATE HIM. I shall say but a few sentences, but let them be remembered. Believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, it is your privilege to be a worker together with God. Therefore keep close to the footsteps of the great Master worker. Remember that before He went to work He was Himself personally obedient to that Gospel which He had to preach. He did not bid others believe and be baptized, and neglect to be baptized Himself. "Thus it becomes us to fulfill all righteousness," said He. And in the waves of Jordan, the Baptist immersed Him. How little will you be fitted for service if you leave any command of Christ not obeyed! How can you exhort others to do your Lord's will if you yourself are disobedient to it? The first thing, therefore, before you go to that form of service which now invites you, is to see to it that you have obeyed the Master's will, for "to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." This being done, let me say to you, Is there not some department of Mission work at home that you could undertake? Most probably you could not do all those things which I have mentioned as having been done by Christ. But you know that young artists will often be instructed by their masters to sketch not the whole of a great statue by Phidias, but one single limb, an arm, a hand, or a foot. Have you not often seen in the artist's studio the foot of some great masterpiece used as a model? Just so it shall be enough to teach you service if, being unable to attempt the whole of the great scheme which I have brought before you now, you will undertake zealously to labor in one department of it. But, whatever you do, do it thoroughly, do it heartily. If it is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well. For such a Master there must be no second-rate work, and with such a gracious reward before you, there must be no offering of that which costs you nothing. You must throw yourselves into whatever you undertake for Jesus. Will you now take one word which is often used by Mark as a motto for yourselves? The idiom of the Gospel of Mark is eutheos, "straightway." He is always saying of Christ, that straightway He did this, and straightway He did that. Now, if you have work for Christ before your eyes, straightway hasten to do it. The most of Christians miss the honor they might have in service by waiting till a more convenient season. Do something tonight before you go to bed, if it is only the giving away of a tract. Do something as each moment flies. If up to now you have not been a worker, begin now. Or if you have been a worker up till now, do not pause, but end the evening with another good word to sister, or child, or friend. Evermore breathe out consecration to Christ. And let me bid you, dear Friends, if you love my Lord and Master, to have comfort in trying to serve Him, because there is an all-sufficient power which you may obtain for this service. Our Lord is declared in this very verse to be One who was anointed with the Holy Spirit and with power. That same Holy Spirit is given to the Church, and that same power lingers in the assemblies of the faithful. Ask for this anointing, and pray that as in this verse we are told that God was with Jesus, so God may be with you. Remember last Sunday evening's text, "Fear you not. For I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Being now a pardoned sinner, ask to be an anointed saint. As one who is reconciled to God, ask that you may be strengthened by God, so that from this day forward you may serve your Master mightily. I do not know that I ever felt happier in my life than I did last Tuesday night when I was listening to my dear Friend, Mr. Orsman, the pastor of the poor but gracious Church in Golden Lane, in the City. He is a good Brother, who, some years ago, was converted to God under our ministry, and he was there and then converted all over. Some of you, when you believe in Christ appear to have only a sprinkling conversion, but I love those men and women who get an immersion conversion. They, go down into the deeps of the love of Christ, and give themselves altogether up to their Lord. Why, that dear man, though working all day long in the Post Office, yet finds in the evening opportunity to preach Christ. And if you were to go to Golden Lane, you would find there all the forms of organization which I have described at the commencement of this sermon in active exercise. Among the poorest, lowest and most degraded of the people, Divine Grace has found out precious jewels. Some seven or eight who are now ministers of the Gospel, first began to preach to his poor people there. He has now spiritual children scattered all over the world by emigration, and the good man, having consecrated himself fully to his work, is most happy in it. I believe from the bottom of my soul that these single-handed men, who give themselves up to a special district and work it well, are the very greatest blessings that London can have. And if there is a young man here endowed with abilities, and perhaps with a little money and time, what better could I propose to him, as a lover of Christ, than to begin some such work for his Master? The same applies to Christian women. Oh, what good Christian women can do! There are those in this place whose names, if I were to mention them, would be had in honor by us all for what they have accomplished! Without obtruding themselves as preachers into public assemblies, they are working away for Christ privately, and bringing many into the Church of God. O Christian men and women, time is flying, men are dying, Hell is filling, Christ is waiting to see of the travail of His soul. I beseech you by the heart of God's mercy, by the heart of Christ, by His love for souls--bestir yourselves and proclaim salvation. May the Lord's blessing be with you. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Away With Fear (No. 930) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, APRIL 10, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "Fear you not. For I am with you; be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Isaiah 41:10. IF there should be nothing in the sermon this evening, Brethren, there is enough in the text to satisfy your mouth with good things, so that your youth may be renewed like the eagle's. May the Holy Spirit spread for you a table in the wilderness. And may He give you appetites to feed by faith upon these royal dainties, which, like the food that Daniel and his companions fed upon, shall make you well-favored before God and man. To whom are these words spoken? For we must not steal from God's Scripture any more than from man's treasury. We have no more right to take a promise to ourselves that does not belong to us than we have to take another man's purse from him. These words were evidently spoken in God's name by the Prophet to God's "chosen" ones. Read the eighth verse "But you, Israel, are My servant, Jacob whom I have chosen, the seed of Abraham My friend." And again in the ninth verse--"You are My servant. I have chosen you." So, then, if you or I should meet with anything that is gracious and comfortable here it will come to us, not upon the footing of merit, but upon the ground of Sovereign Grace. It will not be ours because we have chosen Christ, but because He has chosen us. Our heavenly Father has blessed us with all spiritual blessings according as He has chosen us in Christ Jesus from before the foundation of the world. The eternal choice is the wellhead from which all the springs of mercy flow. Happy are you, my Soul, if Divine Grace has inscribed your name in God's eternal book! You may come to this text like a child to his father's own table, and you may draw from it all manner of comforts to sustain your spirit. But since, dear Friends, you and I cannot read the secret roll of God's electing love, we are helped to judge whether this text belongs to us by another description. For those who are here called "chosen," are, in the ninth verse, also described as being "called." "You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, and called you from the chief men thereof." God's chosen people of old were set apart for Himself, and called out from all the rest of the world, and so they are now. They are a people called out by His special Grace--with a gracious call which they have not been able to resist--and they have come forth and declared themselves on the Lord's side. "For whom He did foreknow, He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the first-born among many Brethren. Moreover, whom He did predestinate, them He also called." If you are called, depend upon it you are chosen. I do not mean if you are called in the common sense with the universal call of the Gospel, for in that sense, "many are called, but few are chosen." But I mean if you are effectually called, personally called, called of the Holy Spirit, called as Mary was when Jesus said to her, "Mary"--and that gracious voice thrilled through her soul, and she responded to it, and said to Him--"Master!" Have you been so called that you have forsaken all for Christ, or are willing to do so? Have you left your old pleasures and your old companions? And are you now a separated one, set apart for Christ? Oh, if it is so, let nothing keep you back from enjoying the riches of my text, for every comfortable sentence in it belongs to you! Still, farther to help us to find out to whom this text belongs, notice that the person here described is spoken of in the eighth verse as a "servant." "You, Israel, are My servant," and in the ninth verse, "And said unto you, You are My servant." Now, are you God's servant, dear Hearer? A servant does not do his own will. He would soon get his discharge if he carried out his own whims and wishes. He takes his guidance from his master's mouth and his master's eyes. Have you submitted your will to God's will? Are you no longer governed by a proud and high spirit which cries, "Who is the Lord, that I should obey Him?" Do you desire to know what God's will is, and then to do just what He bids you? Do you count it your highest honor to be called a servant of Christ? Is it for Him that you live? Is His glory your highest aim? If so, then you who are willing to labor may come and feast upon the text, for every honey-dropping word of it belongs to you, since you serve the Lord Christ. One more word to help you to see whether you have a right to these promises. He says in the ninth verse, "I have chosen you, and not cast you away." Now you have, some of you, been professors of the Christian faith for many years. Some of the younger ones of us have now been twenty years maintained in His House, for it is just so long since we were baptized in Christ's name. Surely, my Brethren, we feel that, judged by the strictness of the Law, we deserved to have been cast away! And yet, being under Grace, we have been preserved by the Lord's salvation even until now. Still though faint, we are pursuing. We are bound to confess, "My feet had almost gone. My steps had well-near slipped." But we have been upheld even to this hour. Oh, then, we have much to be grateful for, and much to rejoice in, for perseverance is a great pledge and earnest of final salvation. "To him that overcomes, the crown of life shall be." And to us, as having overcome up till now, the promises of the text belong. He who has kept you, my Brothers and Sisters, till this hour, bids you now come and look into this choice cabinet and take out the jewels and wear them. For they are all your own to deck you, that you may adorn His doctrine the more. In a word, the text belongs to God's chosen. Those who are His by being separated from the world--who are distinguished by their practical service of God--and who continue in that service. And by God's Grace will continue in it even till the end. Come we now to the text. I will read it again, "Fear you not. For I am with You; be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." There is here, first, a very natural disease--fear. There is here, secondly, a command against fear--"Fear you not." And there is, thirdly, God's promise to help us to overcome it. And that promise is given in three or four ways so that we may chase fear away with a whip of many thongs. I. First, then, we are reminded OF A VERY COMMON DISEASE OF GOOD MEN--FEAR AND DISMAY. This disease of fear came into man's heart with sin. Adam never was afraid of his God till he had broken His commands. When the Lord God walked in the garden in the cool of day, and Adam heard the Almighty's footsteps, he hastened to commune with God as a dear child talks with a loving father. But the moment he had touched the fruit that was forbidden, he ran away and hid himself. And when God said, "Where are you, Adam?" Adam came cringing and trembling, for he was afraid of God. It is sin, consciousness of sin, that "makes cowards of us all." Though He who made us is a consuming fire, and we should always have a holy awe of Him, yet the fear that causes bondage would never have come into our spirit if we had not first of all transgressed His Law. Sin is the mother of the fear which has torment. And, Brethren, fear continues in good men because sin continues in them. If they had attained to perfect love it would cast out fear, for fear has torment. But, since the flesh is still in them and the lusts still strive for the mastery, even the holiest of God's people are sometimes afflicted with the mockings of the child of the bondwoman. O that he were cast out, for he can never be heir with the freeborn nature! As Divine Grace grows and increases in power, fear declines. And when sin is cut up by the root and branch, then no doubt or fear will ever vex us again. Once strip us of these houses of clay. Once deliver us from all indwelling sin--and our spirits shall seek God as the sparks seek the sun. But until then, since by reason of weakness sin sometimes prevails, fear also prevails, and we are sadly cast down. Fear, coming in by sin and being sustained by sin, readily finds food upon which it may live. Let the Believer look within, and, my Brethren, he has only to do that for a moment to see abundant reasons for fear. "Ah!" says Fear as it looks within at the heart still prone to wander, "I shall never hold on my way." "Ah!" says Fear as it looks at the besetting sin, "I shall be tripped up yet. I shall never persevere to the end." Grace is there, it is true, but Fear is blind to the better nature and fixes his glance only on the body of this death. Looking within upon the old nature is seldom a very pleasant operation, especially if we forget that it is crucified with Christ. I suppose if any man among us could see his own heart as it really is, he would be driven mad. But Faith looks at all the ruins of the Fall and she believes that the blood of Christ will get the victory. She sings her poem of triumph even while the fight is raging, rejoicing with the Apostle, that, "Where sin abounded, Grace did much more abound: that as sin has reigned unto death, even so might Grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord." But Fear says, "I shall one day fall by the hand of the enemy. Such a poor frail boat as mine will never stem the flood and weather the tempest, but I shall make shipwreck after all." And then, my Brethren, if Fear finds food within, it also very readily finds food without. Sometimes it is poverty, sometimes sickness, sometimes the recollection of the past, and quite as often dread of the future. Even those who have faith in God may occasionally be weak enough to fear and be dismayed about common circumstances to which they ought to be indifferent, or over which they ought by faith to exult. Desponding people can find reason for fear where there is no fear. A certain class of persons are greatly gifted with the mournful faculty of inventing troubles. If the Lord has not sent them any trial, they make one for themselves. They have a little trouble-factory in their houses, and they sit down and use their imaginations to meditate terror. They weave sackcloth and scrape up ashes. They know that they shall be bankrupt--there was a little falling off in their trade last week. They believe that they shall soon be too old for labor--it is true they are older than they were a month ago. They feel sure that they shall die in the workhouse--it is clear they will die somewhere. They feel certain about this dreadful thing and that, and fret accordingly. None of these things have happened to them yet, and in the judgment of others they are less likely to happen now than ever they were. But yet they convert their suspicions into realities and torture themselves with them though they are but fancies. Oh, it is sad that we should degrade ourselves to this-- "Shall the thin cloudlets of this transient life Shut out the light of Lo ve Immutable? Shall unsubstantial mists of earthborn care Conceal from saints the everlasting hills, From which their speedy succor shall descend? Oh, shame, and sin most base, that heirs of Heaven, Enriched with all the fullness of the Lord, Should fret, and fume, and wear away their souls With childish dreams of ills which never may come; Or coming, shall be laden deep with good!" In certain instances the habit of fearing has reached a monstrous growth. Indeed, I know some of my acquaintances who think it the right thing to be always fearing, and are half suspicious of a man who has strong faith. They even call full assurance, "presumption," and are amazed that anybody should have confidence in God. But if they did but know it, there is more presumption in unbelief than there can be in faith. It is gross presumption on a child's part to disbelieve its father's word. There is no presumption in a child's believing what its father tells it. It, then, only does its duty. For me to accept the naked promises of a faithful God, and, despite my unworthiness, still to believe them true, is humility. But for me to take that promise from my Father's lips, and begin to cavil at it, and to question it, is nothing better than pride hiding its nakedness with the thinnest gauze of pretended modesty. Shun, I pray you, the unbelief that apes humility, and seek after that unstaggering faith which is the true meekness in the sight of God! Yet, I would not blame all those who are much given to fear, for in some it is rather their disease than their sin, and more their misfortune than their fault. Mr. Feeble-Mind will never make a Great-Heart even if you feed him on the finest of the wheat. Mr. Ready-to-Halt will never stand so firmly, or run so nimbly, as Mr. Valiant-for-Truth--do what you will with him. There are some in God's family who are constitutionally weak, and will probably never outgrow that weakness till they have entered into rest. I would do anything I could to encourage the fearing ones to rise above their weakness. I would even give just enough of the tonic of censure to make them feel that it is not right to be unbelieving, but I would not like to censure their despondency so severely as to make them think that they are not the people of God. I tell you, Sirs, I would sooner you would go to Heaven creeping on all fours, with never a song in your mouths, than go to Hell presuming. It is better to be a broken-legged lamb in Christ's bosom than to be the strongest ram in Satan's flock. God deliver us from being strong and mighty in ourselves. But yet at the same time there are many evils connected with fearing, and every child of God should be on his guard against giving way to it. In every case much may be accomplished by arousing ourselves to cry to the strong One for strength to overcome our unbelief. Gloom need not be perpetual with us. I know it is said that some of God's plants grow best in the shade. I believe they do, but I should like to try them in the sunlight a little and see if they would not grow better there than their best has up to now been. There are precious flowers of Grace which are constantly watered with the tears of sorrow, but methinks the dews of consolation would an- swer their purpose just as well. May the Lord visit such, and bring them up out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay. May they be of good courage, for the Lord says to them-- "Fear not. Be not dismayed." Be it also remarked before we leave this point, that even the strongest of God's servants are sometimes the subjects of fear. David was a very strong man, and he overthrew Goliath. But we read that on one occasion when he was in battle, "David waxed faint." So the Lord's mightiest heroes sometimes have their fainting fits. We used to talk of our "Iron Duke," and there was one man in Scripture who was an Iron Prophet, and that was Elijah the Tishbite, and yet he sat down under the juniper tree, and, I had almost said, whined, "It is enough. Now, O Lord, take away my life. For I am not better than my fathers." The best of men are but men at the best, and the strongest men are weak if God's mighty hand is for awhile withdrawn. Some of my dear friends will occasionally tell me, "We have suffered from doubts, and fears, and troubles, of which you have no conception." They suppose that their minister, and others whom they love and respect, know nothing at all experimentally about their infirmities. I wish it were so. We have something better to talk of than our own follies. We do not feel bound to turn the pulpit into a public confessional, and all experiences are not to be published abroad. But, for all that, permit me to say that there are times with the boldest and the strongest when they would give all they have for the very smallest evidence of Divine Grace. They would count themselves happy to creep to the foot of the Cross and say, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" Yet, I do not say this to encourage anybody in fearing, for, let me just give you the opposite side. There is no reason why, if we lived nearer to God and walked more carefully, we might not, as a rule, live above all this fear and dismay. I once met with a dear Brother in Christ, who is now in Glory, about whose truthfulness I never could have a doubt. He told me that by the space of thirty years he had not felt a doubt of his interest in Jesus Christ. At the time I heard him say it, I thought it was quite an unusual circumstance, but I bless God that I have now met with several, "the excellent of the earth, in whom is all My delight." Their testimony is the same--that though they may have been shaken, they have never been moved from their steadfast hold on Christ. Though they may have had a few moments of trembling--yet they have never been so dismayed as to question their part in Jesus. They have stood fast, and they have sung year after year, "O God, my heart is fixed. my heart is fixed. I will sing and give praise." I hold that out as an object of ambition to every Believer in Christ. Do try and see if you cannot rinse your mouth out of all that bitter stuff which makes you sing so often and so dolefully-- "It is a point Ilong to know__." That is a very suitable song for Christian infants, a hymn often sung by enquirers. But O that you would get beyond such juvenile ditties, and learn to sing fitter music, such as this-- "NowIhave found the ground, wherein Sure my soul's anchor may remain-- The wounds of Jesus, for my sin Before the world's foundation slain. Whose mercy shall unshaken stay, When Hea ven and earth are fled away. Love! You bottomless abyss! My sins are swallowed up in You; Covered is my unrighteousness, Nor spot of guilt remains on me While Jesus' blood through earth and skies, Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries! With faith I plunge me in this sea-- Here is my hope, my joy, my rest! Hither, when Hell assails, I flee, 1 look into my Sa vior's breast; Away, sad doubt, and anxious fear! Mercy is all that's written there." II. We shall now occupy a little while in considering GOD'S COMMAND AGAINST FEAR. "Fear you not. Be not dismayed." That precept is absolute and unqualified--we are not to fear at all. He does not say, "Fear so much, but not beyond that," but He gives an unlimited exhortation, "Fear not." He does not say, "Do not fear so often," but, "Fear not." It is an exhortation without any time to it, and therefore it applies to all times. "Fear not." Fear not at all. "Be not dismayed." He does not say, "Be not utterly dismayed." There is no qualifying adverb, but it means, "Be not dismayed at all." This command, then, chides fear and forbids dismay. Why should not the child of God be afraid? There are several reasons which justify the Divine command. Let us meditate upon some of them. First, my Brethren, we may not fear because it is sinful. It is usually sinful to be afraid and dismayed, because such a state of mind almost always results from unbelief. Have you ever thought what a great sin unbelief is? No, we talk about it, and confess it, but we do not sufficiently consider the deep heinousness of it. We will confess unbelief of God without a blush, and yet nothing could make us acknowledge dishonesty to man. I pray you, my Brethren, tell me which of these two is the worst fault? Is not unbelief a robbery of God, a treason felony against Him? If I were in conversation with any one of you, and you should say to me, "Sir, I do not believe you," nothing you could say would sting me more. It is a very strong thing to say to any man, "I do not believe you." Why, if there were two of the lowest men or women fighting in a street quarrel, and one of them said to the other, "I do not believe a word you say," the sorriest drab would feel the insult. Every truthful man feels that he has a right to be believed. He speaks upon the honor of an honest man, and if you say, "I do not believe you," and even begin to lament that you have no faith in him, the reflection is not upon yourself, but on the person whom you cannot believe. And shall it ever come to this, that God's own children shall say that they do not believe their God? Oh, sin of sins! It takes away the very Godhead from God, for if God is not true, He is not God. And if He is not fit to be believed, neither is He fit to be adored--for a God whom you cannot trust you cannot worship. Oh, deicidal Traitor, you sin of unbelief! Oh, God-killing sin! May we be delivered from it, and not think it light or trifling, but shake it off from us as Paul shook off the viper into the fire. Doubts and fears also breed sin. It was said of Jeroboam that he sinned, and made Israel to sin--and so does unbelief. It carries a thousand other sins in its loins. The man who believes in God will fight with temptation, but the man who does not believe in Him is ready to fall into any snare. See yonder tradesman--he is just now in low water through the badness of business. He is a Believer in God, and he says, "I believe that God will carry me through it if I keep to the straight line of integrity. I trust in God, and come what may, I will not pawn my reputation." Now, whatever may come of it, that man's character will be safe, because his faith is firm. But here is another man. He says, "Well, I am in a very awkward predicament, and I must look to the main chance. I am not sure that God will be with me. I must help myself, for I am very likely to be ruined." That man will take up with one of those dodges in business by which men raise money. I need not tell you what those dodges are, because I dare say a great many of you know them, either by using them yourselves, or by having them used upon you. They are part and parcel of the art of stealing other people's money--without being locked up as a thief. Well, he avails himself of one of those schemes--of course he does--he who has not faith is sure to have much craft. He who cannot trust God soon begins to trust the devil, and he that begins to trust the devil soon finds himself in the mire. Faith it is that holds a man as the great bower anchor holds a vessel when the winds are out. Believing that God will not fail you enables you to defy temptation. Now see how the man who has faith beats the devil! There the devil stands. He says, "If you will serve me I will give you_." "Well, what will you give me?" "I will give you the whole world." "But I have that already, for this world is mine, given to me in Christ, and as much of it as is good for me I shall always have." "Well, but I will make you great." "I do not want to be great, my joy is to make Christ great, and my greatness is in Him." "But I will give you silver." "Oh, then!" says the Christian, "put it down." No sooner is the heap spread out than the Believer covers it all over with ten times its weight in gold, and so laughs the fiend to scorn. I mean that for every blessing that sin could bring, Divine Grace brings ten times as much of a greater blessing--and so faith checkmates Satan--and temptation is put away. Unbelief has no such power, but readily falls into the lion's jaws. Therefore, fear not, lest you in the hour of trial be overcome with temptation and hurried into sin. Fear not, again, because it injures yourself. Nothing can weaken you so much, nothing can make you so unhappy as to be distrusting. Nor is this a small thing, for Christian joy is a fruit of the Spirit, and he who causes it to wither robs the Lord of glory. Is it not written, "Rejoice evermore"? Fear weakens the Believer's influence, and so causes mischief to others. Converts are not brought to Christ through unbelieving Christians. It is faith that wins souls. Let me give you an example of it. There is a good woman over there who has lost her child, her only child. Now when her husband saw that dear child die, he was exceedingly mad against God, and said many a hard and bitter thing, but his wife did not. She loved the child with as tender a love as the father did, but she laid it down on the bed, and she said, "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." Good woman, your husband did not say anything, but he felt the difference between himself and you, and who can tell what good results will follow? Now, if a professed Christian under trial acts just like a worldling, the worldly man sums it all up and says, "There is nothing in religion." But, if in the time of difficulty, the time of affliction, the time of bereavement, the Christian man's faith makes him happy, resigned, content with the Lord's will--why, then, even the coarsest of ungodly minds see the power of Divine Grace! And it may be that they will be led to reflect, and to ask themselves, "If there is such a choice Grace as this in the world, why should I not have it?" And perhaps they will come to seek and find it. Oh, for your own sake, for your neighbor's sake, for the Church's sake, for the world's sake, for Christ's sake, for God's sake--fear not-- neither be dismayed! III. Time fails me to dwell on this, and so now I must come to the very heart and soul of the text--THE PROMISES WHICH GOD GIVES TO PREVENT FEAR AND DISMAY. Five times in this verse you get some form of the pronoun "you," and five times you get the pronoun "I." Whatever there may be of you, there shall be as much of God. Whatever there may be of your weakness, there shall be as much of God's strength. Whatever there may be of your sin, there shall be as much of God's mercy to meet it all. May the Holy Spirit reveal all the fullness of this wonderful verse to your hearts! "Fear you not. For I am with you." Many a man fears because he is afraid of loneliness. More or less we must be alone in the service of God. Christian companionship is a great comfort, but if a man becomes a leader in Israel, he becomes a lonely spirit to a certain degree. So, too, in suffering, there is a bitterness with which no stranger can intermeddle. A part of the road to Heaven every man must tread with no companion but his God. Now, I know some of you are getting old, and your friends have died one by one, and you are saving, "I shall be left quite alone." Others of you have come up to London from some country village where you used to have many Christian friends. And there is no place so desolate as this horrid London. When a man dwells in its teeming streets, and meets not a friend among its millions of passers to and fro, I know well what your state of mind is. Or perhaps you are going to the States, or Canada, or Australia, and the thought in your mind now is--"I cannot bear being separated from all I love." Now, here is this precious word for you, "Fear you not. For I am with you." The Lord of Hosts is the best of company. His society is the angels' delight, and the bliss of glorified spirits. Be thankful, Believer, that you are not alone. The Father is with you, the Son is with you, the Holy Spirit is with you, and what does that mean? It means that Omnipotence will be with you to be your strength! Omniscience will be with you to be your wisdom! Immutability will be with you to be your succor--all the attributes of God will be with you to be your treasury. "Fear you not. For I am with you." Another fear comes over men, and that is that they may lose all they have in the world. And they know very well that if they lose their property they usually lose their friends. Like the swallows which come to us in the springtime--and are gone when the summer has departed--such are our worldly friends. When our goods are gone they are gone. But here the second promise comes in, "Be not dismayed, for I am your God." Jonah's gourd was withered, but Jonah's God was not. Your goods may go, but your God will not. Those around you may rob you of your loose cash of present comfort, but your invested capital, your God, they cannot take from you. That was a sweet word of the child when he saw his mother month after month in her widow's weeds sitting down and weeping, because her husband was dead. "Mother," said he, "is God dead?" Ah, if our God were dead we should be poor orphans, indeed! But while it rings out from the precious Book, and rings in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, "Be not dismayed. For I am your God," we have not come to absolute poverty yet. "Look," said the ambassador of France to the Spanish ambassador as he took him into the French king's treasury, "Look at my master's gold! How rich he is!" The Spanish ambassador took his walking stick and began to thrust it down into the bags and into the money chest. "What do you do that for?" said the Frenchman. "I want to see if there is a bottom to it," said he. "Oh," said the French ambassador, "of course there is a bottom." "Ah!" said the Spaniard, "but my master's treasury has no bottom, for he has all the mines of Mexico and Peru." Now, what the Spaniard said boastfully we may say truthfully. The treasury of our God is without a bottom, it is fathomless. And while you can hear God say to you, "I am your God," you may laugh at penury and distress, at destruction and famine. For you shall lack no good thing. You shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and your mouth shall praise Him with joyful lips. Another fear that every good man has at times, unless he is buoyed up by faith, arises from a sense of personal weakness. "I have a battle to fight, and I am very weak. I have a work to do for God before I die, and I have not sufficient power to perform it." Now, here comes the next word of the text, "I will strengthen you." The strength which I have to do my work with does not lie in me. If it did it would be all over with me. How little strength there is in this arm I sorrowfully know. But there is no man on earth who can tell me how much strength God might put, if He so willed, into that same arm! If He willed it, He could enable me, a poor, weak, trembling man, to pull down Gaza's gates as Samson did of old! He can put physical strength of the most gigantic kind into an infant's arm if He wills it. But, my Brethren, transfer the figure to spiritual strength. You have God's command to preach. Ah, it would be but poor preaching if you were let alone to do the preaching. But no tongue can tell how God can make you preach if He pleases to help you. You have to take a large class of boys and girls, or of young men and young women, and you feel you cannot do it. Of course, without His help you cannot, but go and try! For He has said, "I will strengthen you." There was a bush in the wilderness, and it was nothing to look at, nothing but a bush. But oh, how it glowed with splendor when God came into it so that it burned with fire, and yet was not consumed! God can come into you, my Brother, and into you, my Sister, and can make you blaze with glory like the bush in Horeb. He can make you so strong that you can endure anything. Why, He has done it up till now. If somebody had told you years ago that you would have passed through your last trouble, you would have said, "I shall never be able to bear it." But you have borne it. "Ah," your unbelief would have said, "that will be the death of me." But it has not been the death of you. You can at this very moment tell of the widow's God. You can sing of Him who strengthens the weak against the strong, who delivers them that are ready to perish, and makes the faint heart to sing for joy! Here is a word, then, for timid, trembling workers for God. "I will strengthen you." Then comes the next consoling promise, "Yes, I will help you." This is intended to meet the fear that friendly succor will fail. There are some who say, "I believe that God can strengthen me personally, but I need to have those around me who will help me. I desire to see raised up in the Church of God other ministers, other Christian workers. I want to have some at my side who will, with equal earnestness, and with greater talent, contend for the Truth." Note, then, this word, "I will help you." I will not only give you strength to use yourselves, but I will exert My strength both in other men and in My Providence to help you. Well, you know what a grand matter is God's help. I told you once before a story I heard from a minister, but I must tell it again. He said be was one day bringing his books up stairs into another room, for he was going to have his study on the first floor instead of downstairs, and his little boy wanted to help Father carry some of the books. "Now," said the father, "I knew he could not do it, but as he wanted to be doing something, to please him and to do him good by encouraging his industry, I told him he might take a book and carry it up." So away he went, and picked out one of the biggest volumes--Caryl on Job or Poli Synopsis I should think--and when he had climbed a step or two up the stairs, down he sat and began to cry. He could not manage to carry his big book any further. He was disappointed and unhappy. How did the matter end? Why, the father had to go to the rescue, and carry both the great book, and the little man. So, when the Lord gives us a work to do, we are glad to do it. But our strength is not equal to the work, and then we sit down and cry--and it comes to this--that our blessed Father carries the work--and carries the little man, too! And then it is all done, and done gloriously. It is a simple illustration, but may it comfort some desponding heart. "Yes, I will help you." The last word of the text is, "Yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Many a child of God is afflicted with a fear that he shall one day bring dishonor upon the Cross of Christ, and in an unguarded moment shall slip with his feet. This is a very natural fear, and in some respects a very proper fear-- "Ah, Lord, with such a heart as mine, Unless You hold me fast, I feel I must, I shall decline, And perish at the last." It only wants, we think, the temptation to take us in the weak point, and then it will be all over with us. But now again I beg you to grasp this precious Word, "I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." That is the same hand which holds the stars in their place. That is the hand which bears up the unpillared arch of Heaven, that spans both sea and shore. Can it not bear you up? rest upon it, and you shall not be cast down! The right hand of His righteousness is the very hand that you and I once had cause to fear, lest our offended King should smite us with it, for we righteously deserved His wrath. But ever since the hand of Christ was pierced, the right hand of God has never smitten a Believer so as to destroy him. That same hand which might have crushed, is now placed under us to bear us up in all our afflictions. 1 wish I could have clipped the wings of time for this last half-hour, that we might have tarried longer in these rich pastures. But dear Friends, I give you the words of the text to take away with you. Here you have wafers made with honey, such as Israel fed on in the wilderness. Here you have angels' food--no, the very Bread of Life itself lies within these choice words. The only fear I have is lest you should miss them through unbelief. "O taste and see that the Lord is good." Do not merely "see" that He is good as you read the text, but "taste" the text. Let it lie on the palate of your soul. Absorb it into your very nature. Try to know that it is true, and true to you, though you are the very least of God's people in your own estimation, and the most unworthy sinner this side of Hell. "Fear you not. For I am with you; be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Go home, and take the text with you in the hand of faith. It shall prove to you like the widow's barrel of meal and cruse of oil. It shall not fail you till the day when the Lord shall bring you out of this land of famine to eat bread in His kingdom with His dear Son. My heart mourns to think that this text does not belong to some of you, because you do not belong to Christ. O my dear Friend, how I desire that you may yet have the promises of the Covenant for your own! If you believe with all your heart, you may. Trust Jesus Christ, and the promises are yours. I tried to preach my Master's sacrifice for sin this morning. I have now set before you one of the sweet fruits that grow from the bitter tree upon which He hung. O come to the tree of the Cross, and look up to His sufferings, and rely upon Him! And then, when you have sat under His shadow with great delight, may this text, which is one of the fruits of that tree, be sweet unto your taste. The Lord bless you, for Christ's sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Three Precious Things (No. 931) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MAY 8, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "He is precious." 1 Peter 2:7. "Precious promises." 2Peter 1:4. "Precious faith." 2Peter 1:1. THESE three precious things, when put together, present to us a treasure of priceless things, altogether without parallel. When Moses was about to die he pronounced a blessing upon all the tribes, but the benediction which he allotted to the tribe of Joseph was remarkable for containing in it an extraordinary collection of precious things. In the thirteenth verse of the thirty-third chapter of Deuteronomy, we read, "And of Joseph he said, Blessed of the Lord be his land, for the precious things of Heaven, for the dew, and for the deep that couches beneath, and for the precious fruits brought forth by the sun, and for the precious things put forth by the moon, and for the chief things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the lasting hills, and for the precious things of the earth and fullness thereof, and for the good will of Him that dwelt in the bush." That blessing, large as it is, would, were it not for its last term, fall far short of the three texts which we are about to consider. The blessings here called by Moses "precious," were, after all, but temporal mercies. The dews exhale--even the deep that lies under will one day be dried up. The precious fruits brought forth by the sun will wither. The precious fruit ripened by the moon will rot. There are no chief metals in the ancient mountains, whether they are silver or gold, that are eternal, or that can make a spiritual being rich. There are no precious things of the lasting hills, though they are copper and iron. And these things are precious in the arts and sciences and employments of men, but will perish in the using. As for the precious things of the earth, are they not earthy? And the fullness thereof, is it not vanity? Were it not that the blessing of the great Lawgiver closed with "the good will of Him that dwelt in the bush," it would not have contained a word large enough to satisfy an immortal spirit, or give bliss to the heart of man. Before you, however, my Brethren, I spread a far choicer store of precious things than Moses strung together in the golden chain of his benediction. We have here three precious things which will outlast sun and moon. Precious things which are all heavenly, spiritual, soul-filling, and satisfactory. Precious things which, if a man has them, they shall make him rich and bring him no sorrow. Precious things that shall adorn and enrich their owners when all the peculiar treasure of kings shall be dissolved by the last fire. The three precious things of my text bear a certain relation to one another, which will aid your memories. "He is precious," that is, Jesus Christ is precious--here is the priceless gem. "Exceeding great and precious promises"--here is the worthy case which holds the gem. "Like precious faith," as Paul calls it, "like precious faith" with the Apostles-- here is the blessed hand by which we grasp the case and the gem, too. Mark well, I pray you, the precious pearl, the precious case to hold it, and the precious title-deed that secures it to us, or as I said before, the precious hand which enables us to grasp the unrivalled jewel, and to call it all our own. I. To begin then with THE PRICELESS GEM, the first, the highest of all precious things. Jesus Christ our Lord is in Himself to Believers most precious. O that I had power to speak of His preciousness as it ought to be spoken of! He is worthy of an angelic speaker to tell out all His worth. He is, first of all, essentially precious. He possesses an intrinsic worth. We worship Him as God. We believe Him to be "very God of very God," and though most assuredly Man, and in this respect, bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, He is our Brother born for adversities, yet is He co-equal and co-eternal with the Father. And therefore we can never too reverentially speak of Him, nor set too high a value upon Him. He must be precious who is infinite God. Being, however, God and Man, He becomes remarkably precious to us in His complex Nature. His Manhood was without taint of sin. He came into this world with no corruption. He lived in this world with no transgression. His was immaculate Manhood. What a wonder that God should be willing to veil Himself in human flesh! What a miracle of miracles that the Infinite should deign to take upon Himself the form of a servant, and be found in fashion as a Man! Viewing our Lord Jesus as God, we should have adored Him at a distance--as perfect Man we should have reverenced His Character--but when we see Him as God and Man together, we mark that He is the connecting link between our groveling condition and the loftiness of the Most High. And we prize beyond measure the Incarnate God. When we see how by God's coming down to man, man goes up to God, Immanuel, God with us becomes our peace, and brings us near to God, though before we were afar off. Brethren, if we consider our Lord in the Character which is peculiar to Himself, and which He prizes most, and to which, indeed, He owes the name Jesus Christ, we shall see Him as the anointed Savior. To every sinner who feels his sin, Christ is precious. To every child of God who is saved, the Savior must forever be fairest among the fair. To every heir of Heaven who has experienced the sweetness of His saving Grace, Christ must appear to be "the chief among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely." A world destroyed I see if it had not been for a Savior born. A world forever cast into Hell I see if it had not been for a Savior dying on the Cross. As a Savior, O earth, you as yet know not His preciousness. As a Savior, O Heaven, you cannot reach the full merit of His praise. He is precious, then, if you think of Him as He is, as God and Man, and as a Savior, in which office the two Natures are combined in one. Brethren, Christ is so precious that He cannot be bought. If a man should give all the substance of his house to purchase an interest in Christ, it would be utterly condemned. Rich men might gather together all their goodly things, yes, India might be exhausted of its wealth, Peru drained of its silver, and California of its gold--but no part nor lot in Christ could be bought--even with sapphires and diamonds. He gives Himself away right freely, according to the riches of His Grace! But He cannot be purchased, for He is so precious that He cannot even be priced. A whole world can never weigh against Him any more than a single grain of dust would weigh against the universe. There is no measuring line with which to form a unit for calculation, with which to measure Him. He is infinite, and finite judgments will never be able to comprehend His unutterable value. He is God's unspeakable gift. Heaven itself is nothing as compared with Him, and if a man had to wade breast-deep through a thousand Hells to come to Christ, it were well worth the venture, if at the last he might but say, "My Beloved is mine, and I am His." Jesus is so precious that He cannot be matched. There is none like He is. The fairest of the fair are uncomely and deformed when compared with Him. As Rutherford would say, "Black sun, black moon, black stars, but, O bright, infinitely bright Lord Jesus." "He is the express image of His Father's Person, and the brightness of His Father's Glory." You shall find none that can be likened unto Him if you ransack time and space. Miss Him as your Savior, and you have lost the only salvation possible. Gain Him, and you will want no other, for He is made of God unto you "wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, redemption," and all your souls can want. Yes, He Himself is all. If Heaven and earth were sold, you could not match Christ in any market if you gave the price of Heaven and earth for His like. If you search eternity, and ransack immensity, there shall never be found one fit to be second to Him, He is so precious. Precious, Brethren, He is to us, because He cannot be lost. All the precious things in this world can be lost. Our jewels may be stolen, our house may be broken into by a thief, and the safe may be taken away. But Christ is such a jewel that even Satan himself can never rob the soul of him when once it has Him. My heart evermore rejoices in that precious Truth of God. Let Jesus Christ be once mine as the gift of God--I am safe, for--"the gifts and calling of God are without repentance." The Lord never repents of what He has done. He never plays fast and loose, or takes back a benefit which He has once bestowed. Is not Jesus a priceless, precious jewel, since He cannot be lost?! And what is equally as delightful to remember, He cannot be destroyed. Even the diamond can be dissolved, bring but sufficient heat to bear upon it. Focus upon it the full rays of the sun, and the sparkling crystal dissolves into a little gas. But though men have tried to focus all the heat of persecution upon the Christian, they have never been able to sepa- rate him from the love of Christ. And though earth and Hell have stirred up their malice, and the furnace has been heated seven times hotter. Though the child of God has been tossed into it, and apparently deserted to the fury of his enemies-- yet never in a single case has the precious gem of Christ Jesus in the heart been destroyed--nor the Believer's interest in it. Jesus and His servants have lived together, according to the glorious promise, "Because I live, you shall live also." See the preciousness, then, of Christ, the intrinsic preciousness, the essential preciousness of Christ, because He cannot be bought, He cannot be priced, He cannot be matched, He cannot be lost, He cannot be destroyed. Happy and rich beyond expression are they who can truly say, "Unto us Christ is precious." This, however, does but touch a very small corner of the field, for our Lord is precious from the service which He renders to us. Who shall tell all the benefit which Jesus confers on a Believer? As we cannot comprehend so wide a subject in a single discourse, I will give you but a bare outline. There are four precious things which Jesus is to a Believer--life, light, love, liberty. I will defy all mankind to find four more precious things than these--but they are all in Christ. First, life. "In him was life, and the life was the light of men." "As the Father raises up the dead, and quickens them, even so the Son quickens whom He will." What a precious thing is life! The poor mariner's wife rushes down to the beach in the storm, and see, the waves at last have washed up her lost beloved, the father of the babe which is hanging at her breast. He is dead. The ungenerous sea has made a wife a widow. Oh, what would she not give, if she had it, to restore life once more to that well-beloved form! But life is a benefit her prayers and tears cannot obtain. Herein is Jesus glorified, for He gives life to those who are spiritually dead, and if any of you are weeping today over an unconverted husband, a child who is dead in trespasses and sins, a sister or a brother unsaved, Jesus can come to you and give life to your dear ones in answer to your prayers. He is Himself the Resurrection and the Life. Moreover, He is the sole nutriment of all spiritual life. Yonder shipwrecked man has constructed a raft, and far out on the wild expanse of pitiless waters he has floated wearily day after day sighing for a friendly sail or for sight of land. What would he not give for a little water, for water has become the essential of his life. His tongue is like a firebrand, and his mouth is as an oven. He himself all dried and parched, sighs and cries to Heaven, hoping that perhaps a merciful shower may drop refreshment upon him. Now, Jesus Christ is the Water of Life and the Bread of Life to such as live unto God. It is absolutely necessary for the continuance of their spiritual life that they should live upon Him. And as they do live upon Him, their thirst is quenched, their hunger is removed, and their spirit rejoices with a "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Life and the food that sustains life are among the most precious things man can possess, and these are for your souls stored up in Jesus, "For the bread of God is He which comes down from Heaven, and gives life unto the world." Next to life in preciousness is light. What would not they have given in Egypt during those three days when the thick darkness was over all the land, even darkness that might be felt, if they could but have had light back again? It must have been a sad plight for Paul, and for his fellows at sea, when, for three days and nights neither sun, nor moon, nor stars appeared. They could not tell whether there might not be a rock ahead, or a quicksand upon which the vessel would be broken. Oh, for light! How glad they must have been, at last when the black tempest passed away, and once again they could look round on the horizon and know their whereabouts. Light! Oh, how precious would it be to you, if you were confined in one of those prisons which we have seen at Venice below the water's level--deep down, with winding passages, where even a refracted ray of light could never reach the prisoner--where he sat alone and felt for the wall, but could see nothing. "Truly" as Solomon says, "the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." Now, the soul has no light, no true light, no heavenly light but what Jesus brings. When a spirit is once made to feel its guilt, it is shut up in prison until Christ brings it light in the darkness of its dismay. There is no hope to a convicted spirit till Jesus shows His atoning blood. There is no clear knowledge of the way of salvation till Christ brings the Light of the knowledge of the Glory of God in His own face. You who love Him know what brightness He has given to you--what light has irradiated your once dark spirit since you have known Him, and how your heart has laughed for very joy because He has turned again your captivity, and given you to rejoice in the light of His countenance. Yes, He is precious because He raises us from the dead and gives us light. I said that another precious thing which Jesus brings is love. There are hard hearts that think nothing of love--but methinks those who are as they should be, count love to be the dearest of treasures. I had infinitely rather be beloved of my fellow men than own a pyramid of treasure! He is a rich man who has a tender wife and dear affectionate children-- and is surrounded by a select circle of true and faithful friends. Men die full often for want of love. It is wretched work to isolate ourselves and float like icebergs all alone, melting amid a desolate sea. A man will love a dog, or a bird sooner than be loveless. Captives have been known to fall in love with rats, and even spiders on the wall have been the objects of their affection--a little flower that could not speak, has been the prisoner's well-beloved friend. We must have something to love. Oh, and what wealth of love Jesus brings into the heart when He enters it! You feel, then, that you have One to love whom you can love as much as ever you will, and yet it will not be idolatry. You have One to love who never can betray you, One whom you may trust, and yet never be unwise for having told to Him the secrets of your soul. You have in Jesus Christ One whom you may admire as you love, who will still be above you though you seek to rise to Him, and yet not proudly above you, for He will stoop down to all your lowliness and be as your own brother and your own friend. Oh, the joy of having Christ to go to! All other friends will sometimes be unfriendly, and the best of them must part with you at your decease, or you with them when they depart out of this world unto the Father. But your Lord will never, never leave you. He will abide with you, and death shall only draw Him nearer--for then you shall see His face, and His name shall be in your forehead. And you shall be with Him where He is, to behold His Glory forever and ever. If you want love, you large-hearted ones, Christ is just the gem for such a case as your heart is! If you want a channel adown which the mighty streams of your pent-up affections may safely rush with vehemence in impetuous torrents, Christ shall be the fittest riverbed for your soul, and you shall find it joy and blessedness to love Him with all your might! But I added that there was a fourth preciousness in Christ--giving life, light, love--He gave also liberty. Oh, that magic word liberty! It makes men start to their feet. It is the word that made William Tell a hero, and the Bruce of Ban-nockburn more than a king. The thought of liberty makes men count jeopardy of life a small hazard if their country may be rid of a tyrant. May God be praised that great strides have been made and grand advances within these last few years, until even once priest-burdened Spain bears across her Sierras the trumpet notes of liberty, and her sons are free! The highest liberty is that which emancipates the soul from sin. The grandest liberty is that which sets free the heart from fear, which leaves the soul without a dread, and enables the spirit to walk even in God's Presence without alarm-- the liberty which delivers us from the felon's dread, and bids us demand who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect. It is God that justifies, who is he that condemns, since Christ has died and risen again? What room is there for fear for the man who has been set free by the precious blood of Jesus? The liberty of the children of God--the liberty to pray, the liberty to talk with God as a man talks with his friend, the liberty to grasp the promises--the liberty to lay hold of God Himself, and say that the Divine attributes are all our own. This is what Christ has given us, and is He not therefore precious, most precious? One word more before we leave our meditation on the precious gem. We have said that Christ is precious for His intrinsic work, precious for the service He renders. And we must now add, He is assuredly precious, actually so, from the place which He holds and ever must hold in Believers' hearts. Go and stand at St. Bartholomew's Hospital at Smithfield and you will see in the wall the tablet which is erected to the memory of heroic men whose ashes there testified years ago that they loved Christ better than property, better than children, better than life itself, and accounted it their joy to die that they might hold unsullied their testimony to the Divinity, to the Sovereignty, to the Truthfulness, to the Salvation of Jesus Christ! Ah, there were brave days in those black periods! Brave days when great hearts proclaimed by dying how dear Christ was to them. When a certain martyr was led out to die, they made his wife kneel down by the way. With a long line of his own dear children, eleven of them, like a descending set of steps, they were compelled, by his enemies, to pray their father and husband, by the love he bare to them not to die. He looked on them with tears, and said, "I love you as a man, and God knows I would do anything to live, and succor you, and enjoy your sweet society, my Dear Ones. But I cannot give up Christ," and he turned away to die. It is so still, my Brethren, for if we are not called to die for Christ, yet I hope we could if we were called to do so. For at this moment nothing thrills us like Christ's name, nothing makes us so happy as to see His cause prosper. I have often asked, when I have looked upon you before me by the thousands year after year, and know that my speech has nothing in it remarkable, why it is that you gather so continually? Many others have asked the secret why this house is always thronged. The true answer is that I preach Jesus Christ to you, and it is written, "I, if I am lifted up, will draw all men unto Me." I have no other theme, and I thank God I want no other. It is not worn out, and never will be. Though I should stand here by the space of the next six thousand years, I believe the house would still be filled if the testimony were the same. Despite London's sin, nothing strikes London's heart like the name of Jesus Christ. You may preach what you will of your learning and your philosophy. And you may talk pretty things concerning God out of Christ, but you will never stir the souls of men as the preaching of the Son of God has done and will do. "In the Cross of Christ I glory, towering over the wrecks of time," and as long as we can make it still prominent in our ministry, we are sure that an enthusiastic response will be given in regenerate hearts, for unto those who believe He is precious still. So I must leave that point. There is the gem--happy are they that see it, happier they that have it. II. The second head is "PRECIOUS PROMISES," or, THE CASE IN WHICH THE JEWEL IS CONTAINED. "Exceeding great and precious promises." All that the early saints had before Christ's coming was the promise of His appearing, and the mere promise of His coming was very precious to them. We are favored both with Christ and the promises, which are yes and amen in Him. They had the case, but it was locked up and they could not plainly perceive the jewel-- we have the opened case and the jewel in all its glory. The utmost wealth of Heaven now lies at our feet. The fullness of the Lord is ours. Why are the promises precious? For the same three reasons that Christ was precious. Precious for their intrinsic worth, for they are Divine, the sacred utterances of God Himself. These are not the Words of man, but of God. I would burn my Bible tomorrow if I thought so meanly of it as some do. For they doubt its Inspiration, or fritter down its Inspiration till it means little or nothing. To me every Word here written is the Infallible deliverance of the Most High God, not to be questioned but believed. Not because of its reasonableness, but because it has the stamp of Divine authority. Every promise of this Sacred Book is God's own promise spoken through His Prophets and Apostles, but yet spoken by Himself. The signet of Heaven seals every promise. You will never know the sweetness of a promise till it is God's promise to you. They are precious promises because they are Divine. If they were the poetic effusions of elevated genius, where great men of old spoke but their own minds in happy hopefulness, they would be to us but as brass and iron. But inasmuch as these reveal to us the mind of God, they are more precious than all the treasures of the mine. No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls, for their price is above rubies. The least promise of God is too rich to be valued with the gold of Ophir, the precious onyx or the sapphire. Being Divine, the promises are innumerable. No promise of God ever changes. "Forever, O Lord, Your Word is settled in Heaven," "His Truth endures to all generations." Has He said, and shall He not do it? Has He commanded, and shall it not stand fast? The Lord has not spoken in secret in the dark places of the earth, He has not said to the seed of Jacob, Seek you My face in vain. The Lord has never called back a promise yet, but He has said, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My Word shall never pass away." His promises are precious because they tell of exceeding great and precious things. We have promises in the Bible which time would fail us to repeat, which for breadth and length are immeasurable. They deal with every great thing which the soul can want--promises of pardoned sin, promises of sanctification, of teaching, of guidance, of upholding, of ennobling, of progress, of consolation, of perfection. In this blessed Book you have promises of the daily bread of earth, and of the Bread of Life from Heaven. Promises for time, promises for eternity--promises for yourselves, and promises for your children. All these are like the leaves of the tree, and Jesus is the goodly cluster. Or, if you will, the apple of gold hidden among the foliage of promise. You have so many promises that all the conditions and positions of the Believer are met. I sometimes liken the promises to the smith's great bunch of keys which he brings when you have lost the key of your chest, and cannot unlock it. He feels pretty sure that out of all the keys upon the ring someone or other will fit, and he tries them with patient industry. At last--yes--that is it, he has loosed the bolt, and you can get at your treasures. There is always a promise in the volume of Inspiration suitable to your present case. Make the Lord's Testimonies your delight and your counselors, and they will befriend you at every turn. Search the Scriptures and you shall meet with a passage which will be so applicable to you as to appear even to have been written after your trouble had occurred! So exactly will it apply that you will be compelled to marvel at the wonderful tenderness and suitableness of it. As if the armor maker had measured you from head to foot, so exactly shall the armor of the promise befit you! The promises are precious in themselves, from their suitability to us, from their coming from God, from their being Immutable, from their being sure of performance, and from their containing wrapped up within themselves all that the children of God can ever need. The promises are precious, in the second place, because of their service to us. What will not the promises do for us? They will comfort us in distress. Give a child of God a Divine promise, let him be able to appropriate it to himself, and you cannot make his house dark, or his heart dark! A promise believed in is a sun in the soul, and a song in the heart, marrow to the bones, and rejoicing to the spirit. He that has the promises, has Heaven and earth as his heritage. He shall ride on the high places of the earth. He shall suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock. The eternal God is his refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. He shall dwell in safety alone, his fountain shall be upon a land of corn and wine--also his heavens shall drop down dew. The promises of God not only comfort the Believer in adversity, but they strengthen him in service. Let the worker who is serving God, but desponds under a sense of personal weakness, receive such a cheering word as this, "Certainly I will be with you"--why, he flees from no labor, the promise makes him daring. "Fear you not, for I am with you; be not dismayed; for I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Who will be afraid after that? Difficulties vanish, impossibilities do not exist when the Lord is enlisted on our side. The promises serve us in another admirable respect, for they elevate the soul. The man who has none of God's promises to enrich him may accumulate gold and silver, but he is earth-bound with his possessions. His soul tries to content herself with corn, and wine, and oil. But these things are only satisfying to our animal nature. Too often men grovel and hoard all the more as they increase in wealth. But he who grasps a promise is uplifted--his mind rises to the Hand from which every good and perfect gift is poured--and walking by faith in the promise of an unseen God, he is elevated in judgment and in taste, and becomes a better and a nobler man. The promises, let me say, while they elevate the life, greatly cheer and gild with glory the deathbed. Ah, how delightful it is to die with a promise on the lips, feeling it in the heart! It may be in a very lonely cottage, and the stars may come and look through the tiles. And the hangings of the bed may be very ragged. And all the surroundings may be poverty stricken--but he who can lie there and say, "I know that my Redeemer lives, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God"--he that can rejoice in the promise of the Resurrection, and of the life to come, dies grandly! His bed is changed into a throne! His little room, despite its poverty, becomes a palace chamber, and the child of God, who seemed so poor before, is perceived to be a peer of Heaven's own blood royal, who is soon about to take possession of his heritage, appointed from before the foundation of the world. Yes, the promises have been very precious to us in their influence upon our minds. And I am sure I can say they are precious because of their dearness to our souls at this very day. There are passages of Scripture which are carved on our hearts. You all possess some little secret treasures of some kind or other at home, treasures which bring before your minds heart-moving memories. I have seen a mother go to the secret drawer to look at a certain little pair of wool shoes--with these in her hands, she would sit down and weep for the hours together. Ah, there were little feet that wore those shoes once, and they are laid all stiff and motionless in the lap of earth. I have seen a certain friend look at a ring--a little plain gold ring which he wears on his finger--and as he looked at it he has wept. There was a dear hand once upon which that ring was fondly placed in happier days. Yes, and just in that way some of the promises of God have been so rich to us, and so connected with family memories and with personal trials and personal mercies, that they are unutterably precious. A poor old Christian woman was accustomed to make marginal notes in her Bible, and she placed against one text a "T" and a "P." The minister asked her what that meant, and she said, "It meant Tried and Proved, for I tried that promise on such-and-such an occasion, and found it true." "But, my dear Sister," said he, "I see up and down these pages, whenever there is a choice verse a great 'P' put against it. What does it mean? "That means precious, Sir, for I have found it precious, and have therefore set my seal to it." We, too, have our Bible spiritually, if not literally marked after the same fashion, and often does the letter "P" appear against "exceeding great and precious promises" of God which have been sweet in our experience. We hope to die with a promise on our lips, and enter into Heaven to enjoy their full fruition. I have now shown you that the jewel is of the first water, without a flaw, with none to match it, and that the case is of superior workmanship, worthy of the gem it holds. We must now turn to the third thing. III. Faith IS THE PRECIOUS HAND which grasps the case and holds the gem. As time has gone, I shall not enlarge upon this third head, but shall briefly observe that faith is a most precious Grace because it opens and reveals the treasure hid in the promises. Until a man has faith he does not see the value of the promises. "Tush," says he, "the Bible is a dry book." Till a man has the faith of God's elect, he thinks very little of Christ. He may confess that he is a good example and a wise teacher, but, he does not say with Thomas, "My Lord and my God." Faith is to our souls what our eyes are to our bodies. Without eyes light would not be valued--without faith Christ is not dear. Without a mouth food would not nourish--faith is our mouth, and without faith Christ does not nourish us. A man might have a plank close to him when sinking but it would be of no service to him until he could lay hold of it-- faith is the hand that lays hold, and thus it becomes precious. Faith first reveals to us what there is in Christ and in the Word, and then it appropriates the whole. A soldier might be in the midst of a city where there was much spoil, but if his hands were cut off, how could he take to himself the booty? Faith puts out its hands, and says, "This is mine, and that is mine." And what is more, faith carries right with it as well as might. Faith not only says, "I will take it," but faith says, "I have a right to take it," for God has made over to faith by a covenant deed, Christ and all the Inspired promises, too. If you have faith, your faith is the guarantee that the gem and the case are both rightfully yours. A mere piece of parchment, whatever is written on it, cannot be of any very great value in itself. And yet there are persons who would give large sums of money to recover lost documents, because upon the possession of those documents rests their claim to great estates. Now, faith in itself is like a title-deed, signed, and sealed, and ratified, and on the possession of faith hangs your evidence of right to Christ and to the Covenant of Grace. Therefore faith becomes a very precious Grace. It sees Christ. It grasps Christ. It claims Christ by right, and by faith it holds to what it claims. Faith says of the Well-Beloved, "I hold Him, and I will not let Him go." It gets such a grip of Christ, that neither life nor death can unhand it. Faith is precious, let me say, because it is rare. Notional faith is common, but the faith of God's elect is the work of the Holy Spirit, and is not vouchsafed to all. They are favored men, indeed, who exercise real faith. But, alas, "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, and few there are that find it." Wherever it is possessed, it is most enriching. True faith is like Midas, of whom it was fabled that his touch turned everything to gold. But faith has a safer joy than he, for his privilege became a punishment--for when he touched his meat it turned to gold, and he could not eat. And when he put the cup to his lips, the fable says the wine itself turned into gold, and so he must needs die. But faith has the power to enrich us, and add no sorrow. Faith touches trials and they become mercies. Faith touches affliction and she glories in them. Faith touches losses and they turn to gains. There is nothing that faith deals with but what is transmuted into good. Who would not wish to have this precious faith? Best of all, wherever faith is, it saves the soul. There never was a soul that believed in Christ Jesus--that rested on the merit of His precious blood--that was, or could be, cast into Hell. Sooner might the eternal pillars of Divine Truth begin to quiver, and the Throne of the Infinite Sovereignty be shaken from its place, than that Believers in Jesus be cast away. Has he not said it--"I give unto My sheep eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of My hand"? Do you believe in Christ? Then you are saved. I have spoken so far of these three precious things. Just these few words by way of closing. Precious as these things are, they are yours, Christian. You have the precious faith. Then the precious promises are all yours, and our precious Christ is yours. How do you mean to live? With these precious things about you, do you intend to live like a beggar? I mean will you be sinful, low, groveling, worldly? Oh, rise to your rank, and as you are so ennobled, walk as becomes saints! Is Jesus Christ precious to you? Then serve Him with your best, give Him your precious things, give Him your lives, give Him your substance, give Him all that you have--do not give the Redeemer your odds and ends, such as you can afford to give without knowing it. Say, "He died to give me Himself. I will give Him myself in return-- 'And if I might make some reserve, And duty did not call, I love my God with zeal so great, That I must give Him all.'" Go and live like those who are rich to all the intents of bliss, and let your cheerful, your godly, your self-denying example be a protest to the unbelieving sons of men that you know the preciousness of Christ. Alas, for you who are unconverted. What shall I say to you? I am afraid I may preach up Christ a long time before you will believe me. It needs that the arm of God be revealed, before you will see these mysteries. The most of men remind us of the old story in Strabo, of the musician who thought himself very wonderfully gifted with power to create melody. Before his audience he was pouring forth his notes, and as he thought--holding them all spell bound. But just then the market bell, with its vile tinkle was heard, and all his admirers except one person left him--for they could not afford to lose the chance of the market. The musician turned to his solitary listener, and complimented him upon having a soul above mere merchandise, and an ear which could appreciate music, so that he was not drawn away by the tinkling of a market bell. "Master," said the man, "I am hard of hearing, did you say the market bell had rung?" "Yes." "Then I must be off, or I shall be too late." And away went the last man, unrestrained by the bonds of harmony. So when we preach up Jesus Christ, there will be some who will listen to us, and we perhaps think, "Now we shall surely win them," but ah, tomorrow's market bell--I will not say market bell--tomorrow's bell of sin, and bell of iniquity! The bell that rings to frivolities, and rings to transgressions--they will go after that. Anything that pleases the flesh will secure them. It may be there is one who has heard with unusual attention, and we begin to say, "This man has a nobler spirit." But then, perhaps, he has not yet felt the force of temptation, and when he feels it he will go, too. What urgent need there is for the Spirit of God to illuminate the dark judgments of the sons of men. May He do so. May He begin with you, dear Hearer, if up to now you have been blind. May He give you faith, and the promises, and Christ Jesus. It is my heart's deepest wish. The Lord grant it to you all, for Jesus' sake. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ How God Condemned Sin (No. 932) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, MAY 8, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "For what the Law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending His o wn Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh." Romans 8:3. EVER since man has fallen away from God, two things have been highly desirable. The one, that he should be forgiven all his offenses. The other, equally if not more important, that he should be led to hate the sin into which he has fallen and love the purity and holiness from which he has become alienated. These two disabilities must be removed, or, looking at the matter from a loftier point of view, these two purposes of Divine mercy must be accomplished together. It were impossible to make a man happy unless both be equally and simultaneously realized. If his sins were forgiven, and yet he loved sin, his prospects were dark. Over his future the direst portents would loom. If he ceased to love sin, and yet were lying under the guilt of it, his present condition would be deeply miserable rather than happy--his conscience pure and sensitive being tortured with pangs of remorse. By what process can the two requirements be met, or the double purpose be achieved? To use our common words, how can man be both justified and sanctified, obtain clearance from his guilt in the sight of God, and then be made holy and meet to appear in His Presence? Human reason suggests that a law should be given to man which he should keep. This has been tried, and the law which was given was the best law that could be framed. The Law of God written on the conscience, of which the Law given by Moses recorded in the book of Exodus is but a copy, is a perfect Law. There is not a command in it that could be omitted. There is not one single arbitrary precept. The right must be true, the true must be right, and God's Law is never otherwise than right and true. "Of Law," said the judicious Hooker, "there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world. All things do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempt from her power." If, therefore, that Law which is promulgated from Heaven should fail to make men what they should be, the fault will not be in the Law, but in the man. As the text says, it was "weak through the flesh." Because of our flesh and our tendency to sin, our weakness and our defilement of nature, it could not do what, indeed, God never intended it should do--but what some have thought Law might do--repair the breach and to renovate the depraved. The principle of Law, which is, "Do this and you shall be rewarded," or, "Do that and you shall be punished," never can by any means achieve either of these two purposes. The Law cannot forgive past sin. It evidently has nothing to do with that question. The Law says, "The soul that sins, it shall die." It can execute the sentence, but it can do no more. It ceases to be Law if it lays aside the sword and does not exact its own penalty. Yet it has been thought that surely Law might make men love holiness, albeit experience and observation prove that it never has that effect. Very often men have needed nothing more than the knowledge of sin to enamor them to it, and they have loved sin all the better for knowing it to be sin. The Apostle Paul tells us that he had not known lust if the Law had not said, "You shall not covet." There was a citizen of Gaunt who had never been outside the city walls. For some reason or other the magistrate passed an order that he should not go outside. Strange to tell, up to the moment that the command had passed, the man had been perfectly easy and never thought of passing the line. But as soon as ever he was forbidden to do it, he pined, and sickened, and even died moaning over the restriction. If a man sees a thing to be law, he wants to break that law. Our nature is so evil, that forbid us to do a thing, and at once we want to do the thing that is forbidden, and in many minds the principle of Law, instead of leading to purity has even offered opportunities for greater impurity. Beside, although you may point out the way of uprightness to a man, and tell him what is right and what is wrong with all the wisdom and force of counsel and caution, unless you can give him a heart to choose the right, and a heart to love the true, you have not done much for him. This is just the province of Law. It can write out its precepts on the brazen tablets, and it can brandish its fiery sword, and say, "Do this or else be punished," but man, carnal man, only wraps himself the more closely in his self-conceit, and perseveres the more doggedly in his obstinate rebellion. He defies God, defers to his own reprobate mind, goes on in sin, and waxes worse and worse, knowing the judgment threatened, yet committing the transgressions prohibited. And he takes pleasure in those that do such things as his benefit companions. Because of the malignity, as well as the infirmity of our flesh, the mere principle of Law will never do anything to purify or ennoble our moral nature. It has been tried by eminent teachers and social reformers. Dr. Chalmers tells us that in his early ministry he used to preach morality, and nothing but morality, till, he said, he had hardly a sober or an honest man left in the parish. The preaching of morality seemed to lead to immorality. Something more is wanted than merely to din into men's ears what they ought to be, and what they ought to do. Something is wanted more effectually to renovate the heart and move the springs of action. The water is nothing, and if you make it flow it is bitter. You want an ingredient to be cast into it that will heal its poison springs, and make them sweet and clear. Now, in the text, we are told how God interposed to do by His Grace what His Law could not do. I will read it to you again--"For what the Law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh." There are here, then, two things. First, what God did. He sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh for sin. And then, what was the immediate result of this--He condemned sin in the flesh. After expounding these matters, I will try, in the third place, to show you how this bears upon the two desirable things I speak of, namely, the forgiving of the offender, and the making the offender yearn after holiness and purity. I. First, and very briefly, let me tell you WHAT, ACCORDING TO THE TEXT, GOD DID--He sent His Son. We believe in one God, but though we understand not the mystery of the Divine Existence, we accept the propositions declared in Scripture, clearly apprehending the obvious sense of the terms employed, and heartily assenting to the Truth of the facts revealed. Thus we believe that the Father is God, and the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God--and we worship these Three as the one God--the triune God of Israel. The second Person of that blessed unity in Trinity was sent by the Father to this earth. He is God the Father's Son, "the Only-Begotten of the Father." What that means we do not attempt to define--of the matter of fact, we feel no doubt of the manner thereof--but we can offer no explanation. We suppose that the relationship implied in the words "Father" and "Son" is the nearest description that the Divine Mind can present to our feeble intelligence of that ineffable fellowship. But we do not assume, therefore, that it explains to us anything, or was intended to explain anything as the basis of an argument or of a theory concerning the profound doctrine itself. It is a great mystery. Indeed, were there no mystery in God, He were no God to us. For how, then, should we fear Him with the reverence due unto His name? The fact of there being mysteries should never stagger us, poor worms of a day, when we have to think or speak of the infinitely glorious Jehovah. So, it came to pass, that in the fullness of time God sent His Son. He is called in the text, "His own Son," to distinguish Him from us who are only His sons by creation, or His sons by regeneration and adoption. He sent His own Son, and He sent Him in the flesh. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was born into this world. He took upon Himself our manhood. The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and the Apostles declare that they beheld His Glory, the glory as of the Only-Begotten of the Father, full of Grace and Truth. The text uses very important words. It says that God sent His Son "in the likeness of sinful flesh," not in the likeness of flesh, for that would not be true--but in the same likeness as our sinful flesh. He was to all intents and purposes like ourselves, tempted in all points like as we are, though without sin. He was with all our sinless infirmities, with all our tendencies to suffer, with everything human in Him except that which comes to be human through human nature having fallen. He was perfectly Man. He was like ourselves. And God sent Him in the likeness of sinful flesh. Though it is eighteen hundred ears ago and more, the Christmas bells seem to ring on. The joy of His coming is still in our hearts. He lived here His two or three and thirty years, but He was sent, the text tells us, for a reason which caused Him to die. He was sent for sin. This may mean that He was sent to do battle with sin, or that He was sent because sin was in the world--or, best of all--He was sent to be a Sin-Offering. He was sent that He might be the Substitute for sinners. God's great plan was this--that inasmuch as His justice could not overlook sin, and sin must be punished, Jesus Christ should come and take the sin of His people upon Himself, and upon the accursed tree, the Cross of ignominious note, should suffer what was due on our behalf. And that through His sufferings the infinite love of God should stream forth without any contravention of His Infinite Justice. This is what God did. He sent His Son to Bethlehem. He sent his Son to Calvary--He sent his Son down to the grave, and He has now recalled Him unto the excellent Glory where He sits at the right hand of God. II. Do you ask you now, secondly, WHAT WAS THE IMMEDIATE RESULT OF THIS? Why, Brethren, the immediate result was that God condemned sin. Let me show you how He did it. God--I must use language which is for us, not for Him--must, out of necessity, if He would save men and yet not violate His Justice, send his Son to condemn sin. For it said, "This sin is such an evil, such a plague, such a curse, that it cannot be stamped out of the world unless God Himself comes down among the sons of men." His usual Presence among men in the power that sustains nature, it seemed, was not enough to put out sin. So venomous was the serpent that there must be born a Seed of the woman that should bruise that serpent's head. This world of ours was such an Augean stable, that Omnipotence, itself, must come down and turn the sluices of Divine perfection right through the hideous heap, or else washed it never could be. Therefore down from the highest Glory came the Savior, that He might achieve a task which the Law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh--but which He in the likeness of sinful flesh undertook to accomplish. Moreover, the life of our Lord Jesus Christ on earth condemned sin. You can often condemn an evil best by putting side by side with it the palpable contrast--the purity to which it is so thoroughly alien, so totally opposite. So blameless was the conduct of this most blessed Man of Nazareth throughout His entire career, that even those who accept not His Deity do homage to His integrity. We have had in our own day, and in our midst, we grieve to say, some who have blasphemed our faith with bitterest words. But even they have paused as if they stood abashed when they came to survey the Character of Him whose Divinity and Mission they refused to acknowledge. They have seen about His life a something that they saw nowhere else, and if they have not adored they have admired. There was a condemnation of sin in His very look. The Pharisees felt it. They could not meet or encounter Him without discovering and exposing what hypocrites they were. All sorts of men felt it. They could not fail to see through the purity of His life what crooked, ugly, deformed lives their own were in comparison with His. And thus the very existence of Christ, and the example of Christ, condemned sin. But what shall we, who are His disciples, say to that assemblage of Divine Grace found only in Him, each sparkling with peerless luster, and all blending with such exquisite gracefulness that we are at once moved with awe and touched with love as we contemplate Him? Such majesty, yet such meekness in His manner. Such solemnity, yet such tenderness in His speech. So impartial in judgment, yet so forgiving in temper. So full of zeal, yet so equally full of patience. So keen to detect malice, yet so slow to resent it. Such a wise Mentor in the inner circle of His followers, yet such a gentle sympathizing friend. Say, my Brethren, I think some of us never commit a trespass or betray an infirmity, but we say, and say it to ourselves, Would Christ have done this? And the remembrance of His holy, harmless life condemns sin in our conscience. God condemned sin still further by allowing it to condemn itself. The scoff has always been on this wise, "Oh, sin, sin! Well, it is a mere trifle," and the most of men disdain to allow that their particular transgressions are at all heinous. "No, we never killed anybody. We never committed adultery. We are not thieves--ours are only sins of a common sort. There can be no harm in us." But see now, God seemed to say, "I will let sin do what it can. I will let sin ripen in this world. I will let it grow to its perfection. And men shall see from now on what sin is from that sample." "What am I aiming at," do you ask? Why, there came into this world a Man perfectly innocent, harmless, gentle, meek, loving, tender. All His Words were love. All His actions were kindness. He raised the dead. He healed the sick. He spoke nothing but peace and goodwill towards men. And what did sin do? Sin said, "Away with such a Fellow from the earth! It is not fit that He should live." Sin murdered the perfect Man, as it would lay violent hands on all who interfere with its evil maxims and base habits. It would utterly destroy all goodness if it could. It convicted itself. Ferocious is a wild beast, it is always to be feared and hated, for it never can be tamed or trusted. That Man came into this world on an errand, and that errand was one of disinterested mercy and pure affection. He need not have come. He had nothing to gain by it. He never did gain anything while here. They would have made Him a king, but He would not be a king. His was all disinterested kindness, benevolence to His bitterest foes. When they nailed His hands to the wood, they could get nothing vindictive from His lips. He said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." He came to save His enemies. Now, surely sin will not touch such a blessed Being as this! Surely sin will say, "I hate His holiness, but I reverence His philanthropy"! Not so, sin shouted, "Crucify Him! crucify Him!" Sin made a jest of His prayers, and mocked His tears. As we hold and believe, this Man was no other than God, God's Son. You know how the willfulness and atrocity of this sin against Christ is represented to us in the parable of a certain man that had let out his vineyard unto husbandmen. He sent unto them his servant that at the time of the crops they should pay a portion of the produce, but they treated him despitefully, and when he sent another they beat him, and stoned another. At last he said, "I will send my son. They will surely reverence my son." But they said, "This is the heir. Let us kill him, and the inheritance shall be ours." And so with this very God, they seemed to say, "Let us kill Him." And though they could not give a death blow to His Deity, they showed that they would if they could. And red-handed sin stands out before the world this day as a deicide. It would wreak its vengeance on Him that inhabits eternity if it could, and hurl destruction at the Lawgiver, to secure a triumph for its own lawlessness. The fool has said in his heart, "There is no God," and the great aim of human nature is to get rid of God in fact, as well as in faith. This it attempts to do, either by discoursing of Him in an abstraction, or by setting up blocks of wood and stone in simple credulity, as a correct representation of His fashion or His attributes. To the one true and glorious God men will not pay any allegiance. If sin had power equivalent to its purpose. Had it means to accomplish its menace, it would cast down the Throne of the Most High, and assail Jehovah Himself in the Heaven of His dwelling. Oh, you abominable thing, Sin! You stand convicted. God shall smite you, you accursed thing! You have condemned yourself by your own act and deed--even where your craftiness has been foiled and your desperate prowess has issued in defeat. Thus, Brethren, I have shown you that Christ's coming condemned sin, Christ's life condemned it, and by putting Christ to death, sin condemned itself. But here comes the peculiar doctrine of our faith. God condemned sin by bruising Christ, by suffering Him to be put to death, by deserting Him in the hour of nature's extremity, by permitting His soul to undergo an agony beyond all conception. Sirs, our sin--your sin, my sin--the sin of as many as do believe or ever shall believe in Jesus, was laid on Him, "who His own Self bare our sins in His own body on the tree." He was the Father's Best-Beloved. He had never offended, and the Father loved Him. Will He not spare Him? Will He not spare Him? Infinite love loved us, and infinite love loved Christ, but infinite love said, "I cannot pass by sin without punishment. What Justice demands, must be done." And it was love that made the Father pour forth the vials of His wrath upon the head of the Only-Begotten Son, till in the garden He sweat, as it were, great drops of blood falling down to the ground. Oh, there was an inner sweat, of which those outward drops were but the faint types! His soul was exceedingly sorrowful even unto death, and then on the Cross He died. I have often painted you that scene, but for the present I forbear. His inward sufferings, His soul-sufferings, were the soul of His sufferings-- 'Twas thus the Lord of Life appeared, And sighed, and groaned, and prayed, and feared. Bore all Incarnate God could bear, With strength enough, and none to spare." Then and there He made expiation for man's guilt. What a condemnation that was of sin! Methinks it were as though the righteous Judge of all the earth had said, "I cannot suffer sin, I cannot pass by sin, even if it lies on the Innocent One. I must smite even My own Son if sin is imputed to Him. I cannot and will not clear the guilty. The Judge of all the earth am I. If My Son should be spared, or My Law should be put on one side, the thousands of worlds I govern might well be in high revolt against Me." Poised was the cause in the impartial scales of Justice, and on His Son He visited our transgressions. Into His hands the cup of wrath was given. Against Him the sword of vengeance was unsheathed. Of Him the uttermost penalty was ex-acted--that we, for whom He stood as Surety--might be clear by His dying, justified by His rising from the dead, and from then on accepted in the Beloved. Now I know it will be said, "But why did not God exercise the sovereign prerogative of mercy, and at once forgive sin? Why did He not by His own absolute fiat condone the offense and pardon the offenders?" I reply, how, then, could God have condemned sin? If sin is only such a simple misdemeanor as an arbitrary act of God can forgive, then its evil were not infinite in turpitude, the prolific parent of crimes and curses numberless. But if there must be an atonement for it, an Atonement as wonderful as that which I have essayed to preach to you, then sin descried in the light of that altar-fire where it was propitiated, appears worse than felonious, worse than any word I can use, more hideous than any ghastly form I can depict. Its summary condemnation alone could vindicate the unimpeachable holiness of the Judge. Someone else may say, "But if the righteous Law is really so spiritual, and carnal man so weak, why not alter the Law and adapt it to the exigency?" I reply again, because such a procedure would not condemn the sin. On the contrary, it would condemn the Law. It would be an admission that the Law originally was too severe. It would be making an apology for sinners, and encourage them to sin greedily with both hands. To relax the prescript and forego the punishment, were to trifle with sin and make the Law to be a contemptible thing. The criminal will ask to have it altered still, and lowered to suit his basest passions. But would not a part-punishment have sufficed, and then let the rest be excused? I answer, No! That, too, would have condemned the Law for having asked a greater punishment than was absolutely necessary. Whatever was laid down as being the necessary punishment of sin must be enforced, or else God changes, the statute is set aside, and the Law breaks down altogether. The only way to condemn sin to the full is this--let the sin be punished, and if there is one found who, without a breach of justice, may be permitted to suffer in the place of another, let him so suffer. But let care be taken that it is no sham, but a reality. That sin, from the dignity of the sufferer, from the amount of the suffering, from the completeness of the atonement, is effectually and thoroughly condemned. Thus far have I led you. God has sent His Son into the world, and has thus condemned sin by His Son's life and death. III. Now, thirdly, I come to the main business of this evening, which is TO SHOW YOU HOW THIS DOES WHAT THE LAW COULD NOT DO. There were two desirable things, you will remember, that I started with. The first was that the offender should be pardoned. You can clearly see how that is done. If Jesus suffered in my place, from now on it becomes not only Mercy that absolves me, but Justice that seals my acquittal-- "Since Christ has my discharge procured, And freely in my place, endured The whole of wrath Divine; Payment God cannot twice demand, First at my bleeding Surety's hand, And then again at mine." If Jesus paid the debt, it is paid, and I am clear. There is, therefore, now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. Your only question, dear Hearers, is--have you a part in the sufferings of Christ? Was He a Substitute for you? According to this grand old Book, on which we fix our trust as an Infallible guide in this matter, Jesus died for every soul that trusts Him. So is it written--"He that believes, and is baptized, shall be saved." Have you these personal evidences? Do you without question trust Him? Then you are forgiven. You are this night absolved. You may rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom you have now received the Atonement. Your sins, past, present, and to come, are all blotted out-- "Here's pardon for transgressions past, It matters not how black their cast And, O my soul, with wonder view, For sins to come, here's pardon too." The red mark is drawn across the bill, it is discharged. The load of obligation is gone. From its burden you are released. The sin of the Believer has ceased to be. Christ has been punished in his place. Is not that simple enough for all of you to understand, and Scriptural enough for all of you to receive? But how comes the second necessity to be supplied? How does this tend from now on to make such a man pure in heart, and produce in his very soul an aversion and a total abhorrence of sin? This is not difficult to apprehend if you will give it a little quiet consideration. When the Holy Spirit comes with power into a man's heart, and renews his nature (oh, matchless miracle!)--a miracle that has been worked many times in this house--at that moment the unhallowed and the impure are made chaste. The dishonest are made honest, and the ungodly are made to love God--"for if any man is in Christ he is a new creature." Such motives as the following now begin to influence his mind--The man says, "Did God, instead of forgiving my sin without a penalty, make the anointed Substitute smart for it? Then I reverence the Lawgiver, the mighty Lawgiver who would not, even though He is Love itself, suffer His Law to be broken. I reverence that dreadful Judge of all the earth, who, though I am His child, yet since I had offended, would not spare me for my sin, but executed the penalty that was due to me upon Himself. Himself! For Christ His Son is One with Him, and dear to His Father's soul. Why, more than that, it makes me feel an intense love to Him. What? Was He so just, and yet was He so determined to save me, that He would not spare His only Son, but freely gave Him up to die? O blessed God, I tremble at Your Justice, which yet I come to admire. But oh, Your love--what shall I say of it? It wins my love. I must love You, my God--the Just and yet the Gracious One. I must love You." Then there comes into the heart an enmity against the sin which caused the suffering of Christ. "What?" says the heart, "Did sin make my Redeemer, who gave Himself for me, suffer? Then, away with it! It must be a foul, vile thing, to put such a blessed One as He to death. I will not tolerate it." It makes the soul cry, "Revenge" against itself--a blessed vengeance it decrees against all sin. "Bring out the gallows, and let sin be hanged. The dearest idol I have known, bring out the hammer and the axe, and let it be broken in pieces. The choicest transgression I have ever nurtured in my bosom--I see what a viper it is, and I shake it into the fire! Away with it! If it grieves my Christ, and makes Him bleed, my own Beloved Savior--away with it, away with it!" And let me tell you, there is another matter that comes in and supplies the basis for holiness, such a basis as cannot be found anywhere else. The man says, "Now I am pardoned through the love of Jesus Christ and the shedding of His precious blood. I have God for my Father, and He is my Friend. There is no one to part me from Him. My sin was laid on Another, it has been expiated, and it is gone--I am saved, I am forgiven." The man is happy. The man is cheerful. The man is joyful, and what springs up? "Now," says he, "there is that glorious Christ of God who has worked this for me, and I see Him with the eye of faith. I see Him in Heaven, and I am His man--body, soul, and spirit. I am not my own. He has bought me with His blood. I lay myself at His feet. What He bids me do I will do. What He asks of me I will give. What He forbids me, it shall be my joy never to touch." Here breaks forth in the soul an enthusiastic love to the Person of Jesus Christ, which, as it burns and glows like a refining fire, becomes a great motive--power to the spirit to pursue holiness in the power of God. When do the soldiers fight best, Sirs? When you have read their rules to them as to how they might keep place, and how they must load their guns, and fire in due order? No! Law does not inflame the soldier with martial ardor, though it is good in its place. But just when the battle lingers--take an instance from our own history--just when the battle was about to turn with the Ironsides, and the Cavaliers were coming on with one of Rupert's hot charges, ready to break the line, and the brave old Ironsides were half inclined to turn, up came the general old Noll, riding on his horse, and they passed the word along, "It is he, boys! Here he comes!" And every man grew into a giant at once. They stood like iron columns, like walls of granite, and the Cavaliers as they came on broke like waves against rocks, and dashed away, and were heard of no more. It was the presence of the man that fired each soldier. And so it is now with us. We believe in Jesus Christ. We know that He is with His Church. He was dead, but He rose again. He has gone to Heaven, but His spirit is with us--King of kings, and Lord of lords is He. If He seems to sleep in the midst of our ship, yet He sleeps with His hands on the helm, and He will steer the vessel rightly. And now the love that we bear His name steers our souls to holiness, to self-denial, to seek after God, to make full proof of the faith and the fellowship of the Gospel, to seek to become like God, and to be absorbed into God that He may be All in All. This is what was wanted--a stimulus potent enough, under God's Grace, to break through the barriers of sin. What the Law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God has accomplished by sending His own dear Son in the likeness of sinful flesh for sin. And having condemned sin in the flesh, He has now removed its guilt, and destroyed its power. To the best of my ability I have thus set before you a doctrine in which my own heart finds perfect rest. I would that you all had the same rest, the same sweet heart's ease in your breasts. Two words of counsel I must address to you before I close. One is, I do beseech you to receive this doctrine. It is of God. It is true. They who first bore witness to it were humble fishermen. Unsophisticated as they were, they had no motive for inventing it. Indeed, it is a theory which they had not the brains to invent if they had tried. They nearly all of them died for it. They never gained honor or emolument by professing or publishing it, but they endured contumely and persecution, even to the loss of their lives, for testifying to what they saw and heard. Ah, since then the Church has had long lines of martyrs. Who could help hearing the same witness, fortified with the same assurances, whatever it might cost them, however they might be ridiculed as ignorant, old-fashioned, and not up to the progress of the age? I pray you accept this--especially would I address myself to those of you whom I have preached to for so long, who yet are unsaved. I do not know what forms of speech to use with some of you, or in what shape to fashion my appeal. If I thought that coming round to your pews and kneeling down before you, and entreating you to receive Christ would have any effect upon you, I would gladly do it. I have prayed very anxiously that if perhaps my voice should not be the one that God would bless to your conversion, my brother's voice next Sunday, or that of someone else on the following Sunday on which I shall be absent, may have the effect of leading you to Christ. O that you may but be saved! I will make no terms with God if you will but accept Christ. I am somewhat of the mind of a dear little girl, who is now dying, if she has not already departed. She sent a little note in pencil to her minister, and it was delivered at the Prayer Meeting. A little Believer in Christ, nine years of age, asks the prayers of the people for her father, for he is an unbeliever. She was visited by her minister, and she said to him, "O Sir, I have asked Father to come and hear you preach. I thought he might get saved, but he mocks at it, and will not come. But, Sir, he must hear you preach one day, and that is when I shall be buried, for I shall soon be with Jesus. O Sir! When he stands at the grave, do be sure to tell him about the love of Christ, and say that I asked you to do so, for perhaps when I am dead that might help to break his heart." Oh, yes! If anything would break your hearts, that were a mercy if it happened. If the preacher himself were dead, if his interment in the grave could bring you to the Savior, it were a cheap price to pay. Only may God save you! May the Holy Spirit renew you! May the Savior wash you in His precious blood and I shall be well content. The other word is this. You that profess to be Christians, to believe what I have told you--take care that you do not give the lie to it. Not everyone that says, "I am a Christian" is so. No, no. It is a heathenish nation this, that has had the impudence to call itself Christian. "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way which leads unto life, and few there are that find it," is as true today as when Christ uttered it. To be a Christian in name is worth nothing. To be a Christian in the power of these truths, having received Christ Jesus the Lord, and being rooted and built up in Him, and established in the faith as you have been taught--that is to be a Christian in all good conscience. If your lives should be unholy, if you trades people should be dishonest, if you rich people should be proud and selfish, if you poor people should be envious, if any of you should be drunken, if you should be loose in speech, if you should be unclean in deed or in conversation, men may say--"The preacher has only laid down a theory, let him show us facts." Well. But I can show facts. I bless God that I have it in my own soul to say that I believe the most of you do so live as to prove these things. But even so, there are others of you of whom I tell you, even weeping, that you are the enemies of the Cross of Christ. Enemies! Of all enemies the worst of enemies, too, because while professing to be actuated by them, you live in opposition to the teachings of Jesus. O blessed Savior! Wounded worse by Your treacherous friends than by Your open foes. O holy Faith! More damaged by your professors than by your antagonists. The Lord grant us to walk and live in holiness, and in His fear, till the Master shall come, as come He will a second time without a sin-offering unto salvation. Finally, Brothers and Sisters, farewell. Let me dismiss you with a blessing. __________________________________________________________________ Angelic Studies (No. 933) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, MAY 1, 1870 BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God." Ephesians 3:10. THE "principalities and powers in heavenly places" to whom the Apostle here refers, are, no doubt, the angels. These bright and glorious spirits, never having fallen into sin, did not need to be redeemed, and therefore, in the sense of being cleansed from guilt, they have no share in the atoning sacrifice of Christ. Yet it is interesting to notice how our Lord did, as it were, pass and pass again their shining ranks when He sped His way down to the regions of death, and when He came back triumphant to the realms of Glory. Thus in one place "we see Jesus made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death," and in another place we learn, "that the Father raised Him from the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality and power, and might and dominion." It is possible that the mediation of Christ has a bearing upon them, and has from now on confirmed them in their holiness, so that by no means shall they ever be tempted or led into sin in the future. It may be so, but this much seems to be evident, that though they had no direct share in redemption, they feel, nevertheless, an interest in it, and are to be instructed by its results. The sublime plan of the Gospel of the Grace of God, which is so entirely beyond the compass of our natural faculties that we could never, by searching, have found it out, appears to have been equally beyond the grasp of angelic intelligence. It was a mystery that excited their wistful enquiry--until by the Church (that is to say, by the Divine Counsel and conduct in forming and perfecting the Church) there is made known unto them the manifold wisdom of God as they have never learned it before. They have kept their first estate, and have been obedient to God's behests. They delight to be known as the servants of God, doing His commandments, and hearkening unto the voice of His Word. They are appointed to exercise some sort of power over various parts of God's creation, therefore they are called "principalities and powers." Certainly they are engaged in singing Jehovah's praise. Much of the music that rises up before His Throne comes from the harps of spirits, pure and immaculate, who have never known sin. Yet, though they are thus pure, thus engaged in worship, of such eminent rank in the universe of God, they are never represented as indifferent spectators of anything which our mortal race can do or suffer, but their sympathy with men is constant. Do they not watch over the saints? Is it not written, that they "encamp round about them that fear the Lord"? Are they not charged to take care of the saints, to bear them up in their hands, lest they dash their feet against the stones? Angels, we know, have often been messengers of God's will to the sons of men. They have never shown any reluctance-- on the contrary, great has been their joy to bear God's tidings down from Heaven to earth. And their sympathy even with fallen men, with men who have grievously sinned and gone astray, is shown by the fact that they "rejoice over one sinner that repents, more than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance." They are, as it were, in yonder gilded vessel, untossed of tempest. But they have sympathy with us in this poor heavy-laden boat, tossed with tempest and not comforted. I see them there on yonder sea of glass mingled with fire. I hear their harps, as incessantly their joy goes up in music to the Throne of the Most High. But they do not look down with scorn on us poor denizens of this dusky planet. On the contrary, they delight to think of us as their Brethren, as their fellow servants, as it will be the consummation of their happiness when we shall all be gathered to the Church of the First-Born, that they shall make up the innumerable company of angels that surround the blood-washed throng. I. The subject of our meditation, which will be brief, resolves itself into a question, HOW EXCLUSIVELY THROUGH THE CHURCH DO ANGELS COME TO SEE THE MANIFOLD WISDOM OF GOD? Some other matters in connection with this we shall have to speak of afterwards. Who can doubt that the angels had seen much of the wisdom of God in creation? With faculties keener and more elevated than ours, faculties that have never been blunted by sin, they can perceive the various contrivances of God's skill both in the animate and the inanimate world. Doubtless as each new star has been minted by God, as each planet has been struck off like a spark from the everlasting anvil, angels, those sons of the morning, have lifted up their songs, and have poured forth their paeans of joy and gladness. They have seen the wisdom of God in the greatness of creation--in every sphere they have been able to perceive it, for their vision is far more comprehensive than ours. And they have also, no doubt, seen that wisdom in all its minuteness as manifest in the delicate structure of organized beings, and the skillful economy of the operations of creative power. For there again they are able with the singleness and certainty of superior optics to perceive what only after long years we have been able to discover--and that by reasoning from the ingenuity of the works to the excellence of the design. What a scale of survey must a seraph have! How readily can we imagine an eye that takes in at once the landscape of the world! He need not confine himself to one single spot in God's universe, but with rapid wings he can steer far and wide over the infinity of space. May he not pause here a moment and there a moment, and with a glance peer into the multiform wisdom of God in all the ten thousand thousand worlds that stud the realms of space? Yet with all that facility of observation, it seems that the angels have some parts of the wisdom of God to learn. They have some lessons of heavenly science to study which creation cannot unfold to their view--to be ascertained and certified by them only through the transcendent work of Redemption which the Lord has carried on in His Church. Fix your attention for a moment on the word "now" as it is used in the text. On that word, it seems to me, much of the meaning hangs. Long before our Lord came into the world God had been pleased to reveal somewhat of the wisdom of His Grace in the types of the old Law. These were full of significance, but at the same time not free from perplexity to the minds of most men. They appear not to have been very intelligible, even to the angels, for they are pictured as standing over the Mercy Seat, with wings outspread, looking down upon its golden lid, anxiously enquiring, but not clearly discovering the secret of the old Covenant dispensation. Peter says, I suppose in allusion to this, "which things the angels desire to look into." But Paul here vehemently sets forth the yearnings of his heart in the exercise of his ministry, "to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery, which from the beginning of the world has been hid in God, who created all things by Jesus Christ: to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God." May we not infer from this that though angels saw Moses and Aaron, and the long succession of priests that followed them. Though they doubtless mingled invisibly in the solemn gatherings that went up to Mount Zion, and heard the chants of the glorious Psalms. Though they saw the streams of blood that flowed at the altar of burnt offering, and marked the rising clouds of smoke that went up from the altar of incense that was in the Holy Place before the Lord, they had not as yet discovered the wisdom of God in its fullness and clearness, the spotless mirror of His power, the reflex image of His glorious perfection? But it must have remained for them to learn it from the Church! Since Christ has come, angels are to be students of the manifold wisdom of God as revealed in His work towards His people, preparing them for that grand climax--the espousal of the Church and the marriage of the Lamb. To come closer to the matter we must trace it progressively, as though it were step by step that the angels pursued their study, and acquired an insight into this manifold wisdom. It may be they do so. Certainly among the children of men there is much pleasure in the getting of knowledge. The merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. As we gradually break up fresh ground, decipher that which is obscure, sift out analogies, solve difficulties, and follow out the tracks of history in one continuous line, our enjoyment of study rises to enthusiasm. Do you not think that the angels perceived the manifold wisdom of God now that they began to understand what man was and what man is? They must have already seen that God had created an order of pure spirits who served Him faithfully and never sinned. There was one form of wisdom displayed in that. Other spirits, equally pure, went astray, and in the wisdom of God-- for there is wisdom in it--these were suffered to continue astray, reserved in chains until the judgment. Soon the angels perceived that God was about to make another intelligent creature, not altogether spiritual, but a spiritual creature that should be linked with materialism, a creature that should abide in a body of clay. And that God intended to make this creature a mixture of earth and Heaven--such a one that he should occupy the place which fallen angels had left vacant. They discerned in this at once the wisdom of God. He had formed a pure spirit. He had fashioned material substances. Now He was about to make a creature in which the two should be combined, a creature that should be spiritual, and yet should be material. But before this creature should be permitted to take his place forever at the right hand of God, he was to be permitted to pass the test of temptation. Being tempted, he was to fall into sin. Out of the condemnation into which he should sink he was to be elevated by an act of Divine Grace. From the guilt of that sin he was to be cleansed by a matchless system of substitutionary sacrifice. And then, after having been alienated in heart, he should nevertheless become as pure as if he had never been conscious of evil! And contaminated with it, he should be redeemed from it and stand in allegiance to the Most High, to serve Him with as absolute a perfection as if he had never transgressed or lost his first estate. Herein is manifold wisdom, that the Lord God should make so strange a creature, that He should be formed of the dust of the ground, and yet created in the image of God. A creature that should know sin, and whatever of pleasure there might be in it, and yet be restored to purity and holiness. A creature who though awhile estranged in heart, and guilty of rebelling with a high hand against his Creator, should return to its allegiance through the infinitely wise workings of God's Spirit, and from now on should remain forever the liege servant of God! And, something more, the child of God would be lifted up and exalted into a nearness of connection and intimacy of communion with the Great Father of Spirits into which no creature had ever been brought before! In that grand design, the angels must have seen much of the sublime wisdom of God, and that conspicuously through the Church. But, Brethren, may not the admiration of angels at the unfolding of this wisdom have been increased by the mystery in which it had long been shrouded from their apprehension? Observe that Paul was exulting in a revelation "which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of men as it is now revealed unto His holy Apostles and Prophets by the Spirit." What use will he make of it? First he looks round among the saints and sounds the note of welcome. Then he looks out among his fellow men and proclaims it to the Gentile world. And at length he looks up and descries among the angelic throng, creatures of noble mind and exalted rank, who could sympathize the joy and hail the solution of so grand a problem. Be it remembered that the decree had previously been proclaimed from the throne of the Most High, for, "when He brings the First-Begotten into the world, He says, "Let all the angels of God worship Him." Yet the means by which the counsels of God concerning Christ and the Church should be brought to pass had not thus far been shown. With what pleasing wonderment, therefore, would the principalities and powers in heavenly places regard the plan as it was unsealed! How well might the Apostle look forward to those ages to come which have yet to prove the reality of all that has been foreshadowed! The Truth of all that has been prophesied. And (the work now in progress being completed) the actual form and fashion of all that from the beginning was predestinated. Even while the mystery was unexplained, it was not for pure angelic minds to doubt. Still their thoughts must have been full of marvel, and startling questions must have occurred to them. Shall the Only-Begotten Son of the Father take the nature of man into union with the Godhead? Can it be safe to put such a creature as man into so sublime a relationship with the Creator? Will pride never inflame his breast and provoke his soul to transgress? By what strange process shall he be made meet to partake of the inheritance of the saints in light? While the details are concealed, the destiny seems incomprehensible. It is therefore that the Church becomes as a museum which angels may visit with ever-expanding interest and ever-increasing delight. Over the minutest particulars of the Divine workmanship in the saints they may pore with pleasure. For there they have open to their observation by the Church the manifold wisdom of God. And all this redounds to the glory of the Savior. That creature, man, when thus elevated, can never be proud, for he remembers what he was. If ever the feeling of exultation crosses his mind, he transfers the honor to Christ, who can receive it as his rightful due. There is not in Heaven, of all the creatures, a humbler creature, though none more elevated--made to have dominion over all the works of God's hands, with all things put under his feet. He is made to be akin to Deity itself by virtue of union with the Son of God, and yet safe to stand there, without cause to fear that he should pervert his high prerogative or usurp any adoration or prerogative which does not belong to him. The process through which he has passed--his annealing, as it were, in the fire of his fall and of his repentance--his deep obligations to Sovereign Grace, shall make it safe to grant that he shall sit with Christ on His Throne. Even as Christ also overcame, and is set down with his Father on His Throne. I talk of these things feebly and superficially, but I am persuaded that this is a subject which angels can think of with enchantment, and as they think it over they see transparent proofs of the manifold wisdom of God. But to come down to more familiar topics. Probably you will be more impressed with the excellence of this wisdom as you look at the first principles of Christianity, than if you would arrest your attention in any refinements of reasoning. The wisdom of God is clearly seen by angels in this--that though God was dishonored in this world by sin--that sin has redounded to His greater honor. Satan, when he led men astray and tempted them to rebel, thought he had marred the Glory of God, but he never did more palpably outwit God. As Augustine ventured to say of the Fall, "Happy thought," so, when we see how God's mercy and His love have shone resplendent through that dreadful breach, we can only admire the wisdom of God which has thus outmatched the subtlety of Hell. The serpent was exceedingly wise, but God was far wiser. Satan's craft was dexterous, but God's wisdom was infinite in its prescience. Wisdom has outmatched craft. Is it not glorious to think that this world where God was dishonored most is the world where He shall be most revered? There is no such display of the attributes and perfections of Godhead in the whole universe beside as there is here. On our blighted soil God has stood foot to foot with moral evil. God incarnate, the Son of God, has sustained the conflict, and won the victory! While the heel of Christ was bruised, the head of the dragon has been most effectually broken! A triumph that God would have us commemorate in time and in eternity has come through the sin that threatened the destruction of the world. This wisdom of God is to be seen in the way that our redemption was worked. The doctrine of Substitution is a marvel which, if God had never revealed, none of us could by any possibility have discovered. You remember how it was. We had sinned and were condemned. How could God be gracious and yet be just? How could He keep His Law and yet at the same time show His mercy towards us? Of old that problem was solved by the Suretyship of Christ. He who had determined to be Man put Himself from before the foundation of the world into our place, and offered Himself to God as the Head of the race in Covenant that He might make recompense to the broken Law. Angels could not have conjectured this, but when it was made known to them, how could they refrain to chant fresh songs to the praise of Him who could undertake so loving a responsibility? It became necessary when Christ was our Surety, that He should afterwards take upon Himself our nature. Oh, how it must have surprised the angels when they heard that the Son of God was coming down to earth to be born of a virgin! What marvel must there have been when the announcement was made through the courts of Paradise that He was going down to Bethlehem! One of the angelic number who had been sent to attend Him proclaimed His advent, but while he was making the announcement, "Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host," who now came in to swell the song, "Glory to God in the highest! On earth peace, good will toward men." The swell of that music--how grand! The cadence of those simple words--how charming! Yes, the angels must have discovered something of the wisdom of God when they saw that God thus tabernacled among men, that the Word was made flesh in order to be capable of carrying out His surety-engagements, and really become a Substitute for those who had offended. I think His whole life must have struck them with wonder. They must often have observed wisdom in His actions and in His prayers, in His speech and in His silence. But, when at last He came to die, methinks even cherubim and seraphim were wrapt in amazement. That He should stoop from Heaven and become a friend to the fallen race might surprise them much. But that He should stoop to die must have appeared utterly incomprehensible! Something more of the love and wisdom of God should yet be revealed to them. I think our hymn must fitly describe how they gathered round that Cross-- "And could their eyes have known a tear, They must have wept it there." When they beheld the griefs and torments of the dying Son of God, the Lamb of God's Passover--when they heard Him say, "It is finished!"--what a door must have been opened to them! They saw, then, that He had finished transgression, made an end of sin, and brought in an everlasting righteousness. And then, perhaps, they saw more clearly than before how Christ, by suffering, put an end to our sufferings. And by being made a curse for us had made us the right- eousness of God in Him. If they marvelled during the three days of His slumber in the tomb, His Resurrection must have opened up another door to them. And, when after His forty days' sojourn, they came to meet Him with glad acclaim. When they joined Him, and with Him rode up to the gates of Heaven, singing, "Lift up your heads, O you gates, and be you lift up, you everlasting doors, that the King of Glory may come in." When they came in triumph with "the Lord mighty in battle, the King of Glory," in that procession to His Throne, they must still have been more and more amazed, and said one to another, "What thing is this? What mighty marvel! He that became Man to suffer, is the very One that now rises to reign. He who was born to die now lives forevermore. Behold, He is now the Head over all things, and made to have dominion over all the works of God's hands, for it has pleased the Father that in Him should all fullness dwell!" Thus, Brethren, though time and voice fail me, permit me to say the whole history of our blessed Lord, who is the Head of the Church, is making known to the principalities and powers in heavenly places the manifold wisdom of God in such a way as they never could have otherwise seen it. The wisdom of God is seen through the Church in the Holy Spirit's work as well as in the work of Christ. It is "manifold wisdom." You know the children's toy, the kaleidoscope. Every time you turn it there is some fresh form of beauty. You seldom see the same form twice. So it is with nature, each time and season has its special beauty. There is always variety in its scenery--diversities of form and color are strewn throughout the world. You never saw two hills molded in the same pattern, or two rivers that wound after the same fashion from their source down to the sea. Nature is full of variety. So is the work of the Holy Spirit. In calling sinners to Christ, there is singleness of purpose but no uniformity of means. Your conversion, my dear Friend, in the main outline, is very much like mine--yet your conversion has its distinctive incidents. God's wisdom is displayed equally in bringing you in that way, and in bringing me in another way. I believe there will be found evidence at the last of the wisdom of God in the very date, the very place, the very means in and by which every soul is brought to believe in Jesus. And angels will, no doubt, be able to perceive in every conversion some singular marks of beautiful originality proceeding from the inexhaustible Artist of Grace, the Holy Spirit. That same wisdom will be seen in the biography of every convert--how the Lord afflicts, or how He comforts. How He upholds us, how He keeps back that which cannot yet be endured. How He gently leads us, how He makes us to lie down. We find fault, sometimes, with the way of Providence because we do not understand it. When we shall get a clearer sight of it we shall see that every mark and line was dictated by His love, and ordered by His Infinite Counsel. As each Christian shall be conformed to the likeness of Christ, angels will see in the products of Grace fresh displays of the manifold wisdom of God. I could suppose that the death of a martyr must be such a spectacle as those holy watchers regard with extraordinary interest. Would they not have gathered around such a woman as Blandina, for instance, who was made to sit in a red-hot chair, after having been tossed upon the horns of a wild bull? Yet constant to the last, she maintained her faith in Christ while passing through the torture! Pure spirits as they were, they must have commiserated the physical anguish and admired the spiritual triumph of this feeble woman thus devoted in her love to their Lord and Master. Yes, you ministering spirits, you who live to serve our Eternal King, surely you must rejoice at the loyalty of those servants of His who die for His Truth. In late years, since this House of Prayer was built, when the martyrs of Madagascar were burned at their stakes for Christ--as they stood erect in the fire, and began to sing--the angels, celestial vocalists as they are, must have been ravished with a music that they could not emulate. And when they breathed the prayer, "Into your hands we commend our spirits," the angels must almost have envied them the ability of serving God in that sphere of suffering, and the possibility of bearing in their bodies the marks of the Lord Jesus. Yes, and when they have seen your boldness and your constancy, your self-denial, and your patience. And when they have heard your importunate prayers and groans, as you have pleaded for the souls of others, seeking with tears to bring others to Jesus, I do not doubt that they have ascribed to the manifold wisdom of God the production of such luscious fruits from such inferior creatures! Fruits that bring to His name so much of Glory, and so much of renown to His Grace. In all the saints, through the history of their vocation and the development of their sanctification, angels can discern the manifold wisdom of God. The subject is far too large for me. I shall leave you to think it out, after thus introducing you to but a few aspects of it. There is much room for meditation as to how these bright and happy spirits do and shall see the wisdom of God in the salvation of the Church. II. But do you now ask, DO ANGELS GAIN ANYTHING BY THE CHURCH OF GOD? I think they do. Certainly they acquire increased knowledge. With us knowledge is sometimes sorrow. To know is often to mourn. What the eye does not see the heart does not rue. "Where ignorance is bliss"--and it sometimes is--there are those who think, "it is folly to be wise." But ignorance is not bliss in Heaven. Knowledge increases the joy of the angels, and I will tell you why--because it makes them take a greater delight in God when they see how wise and gracious He is. If it is possible for the angels to be happier than natural innocence and honorable service can render them, they must be happier through knowing and seeing more of God, as His attributes are reflected and His perfections mirrored forth in the Church. Angels, methinks, will be enriched by the society of the saints in Heaven. Commerce always enriches, and commerce between angelic and human natures will be enriching to them both. They love in Heaven--they show their love by rejoicing over repenting men. They will be glad to see us there. I do believe they will make much of us, as we do if we have seen some poor child reclaimed, and afterwards grow up to honor. We like to think of such an one. It brings the tears into our eyes that our Father did so good a deed for the orphan, the pauper, or the outcast. And will not the angels rejoice over those in whom the Father's mercy has worked such wonderful happiness? Again, to my imagining (can it be illusive?) angels are gainers by the Church because they get nearer to the Throne of God than they were before. Another order of beings, our own to wit, is advanced. Surely when one creature gets near to God, all unfallen creatures are promoted. God, in vital union with the creature, was not to be conceived of until Christ came down to earth, and clothed Himself in manhood, thus raising creatureship nearer to God by just that length. So angels, by inference, seem to me interested in the honor that Jehovah has put on His works--the endowed works of His own formation. Do you not think, too, that perhaps they can see God better in Christ than even they did before? Is it not possible that even they who first did veil their faces with their wings in the presence of the Almighty, because the brightness of glory was excessive, may now stand with unveiled faces and worship God in Christ? I think it is so. They never saw much of God before until they saw God veiled in human flesh. There was too dazzling a splendor for them till the interposing medium of the manhood of Christ came in between them and the absolute Deity. It may be so. And may not there be a reflex sense of gratitude in the very heart of angels when they see us in Heaven, or while they see us wending our way there? They perceive what it would have cost to have restored them had they been beguiled by sin, and therefore what debtors they are to God that they were never suffered to fall. Does it not make their state and standing more and more joyful to them when they see in us how the righteous scarcely are saved, and at what an expense men were lifted up from the ruins of death and the dread doom of the damned? Why, methinks they say not one to another, with Phariseeism--"We thank You, great God, that we are not as men are." No, they say, with lowliness of mind--"We bless You, O God, that we were permitted to stand in our fidelity, and were not left to the natural weakness which might have succumbed to temptation, for You charged even Your angels with folly, but You have held us, and here we are to bless Your name." It may be so. It may be so. III. Let me detain you one minute more while we meet the question, WHAT IS ALL THIS TO US? Ought it not to make us prize the Gospel? If the angels think so much of it, oh, what should we think? If they who have only seen it, esteem it so, how ought we to value it who have tasted it? If they admire the veins that filled the Fountain, what shall we say who have washed in that Fountain? If they wonder at Christ, who took not on Him the nature of angels, how shall we admire Him who espoused the house of Abraham and the seed of Adam? Let us appreciate the Gospel beyond all price, emolument, or honor. How, too, should we study it, if it is the research of angelic intellects! Is the Church their schoolbook from where they learn lessons of the Divine wisdom, because no science is equal to that of the wisdom of God in Christ revealed in His Church? O be not, you converts, ignorant of the Word of God! Be not oblivious of the operations of God in your own souls! The angels desire to look into these things. Do you look into them? Blessed shall you be if you abide in the study of the Word of God! You shall be like trees planted by the rivers of water that bring forth their fruit in their season. O do apply every faculty you have to acquire increasing knowledge of that which angels love to study. And now take courage, you feeble-minded ones, and never fear again the sneer of the man who calls the Gospel folly. Account him to be the victim of folly who despises this manifold wisdom. Shall I set the judgment of a poor puny mortal against the judgment of an angel? I suppose that even Newton, and Kepler, and Locke, and those mighty master spirits, would be mere infants compared with seraphs. Those great men loved to study the Scriptures, and when your modern pretenders to a little smack of philosophy come in and sneer at our holy Gospel, we can well afford to sneer at them. What are their sneers to us? In proportion to a man's ignorance is generally his impudence when he meddles with the Gospel. I think it was Hume who confessed that he had never read the New Testament and said he never would. Yet he was one of the most glib in caviling at that of which he knew nothing. Ah, you skeptics, pretenders, and scoffers--we can well afford to let you rail. But you can ill afford to rail when angels are awed into wonder, and so would you be if there were anything angelic about your temper, or anything of right wisdom in your attainments. Last of all. If this is so, how we ought to love Christ, we who has a saving interest in it, and how they ought to tremble who have it not! Unsaved Men! Unsaved Women! If it needs manifold wisdom to save men, then men's ruin must be very great, and your peril must be very imminent. If it amazes angels to see how God saves, it must be a terrible destruction from which He saves them. That destruction is coming upon you--its dark shadows have already began to gather round you. How great your folly to refuse a salvation so wise, to reject a Savior so attractive as Jesus! Think of His loving gentleness and consider the simple way in which He saves--believe and live! The supplies necessary for your salvation are all waiting. There is nothing to be done. It is all complete. There is nothing to be found. It is all ready. Salvation is finished. What a fool must he be that will not have it! O stretch out your withered hand and take it! God give you power. If you say "How? "I answer thus--Trust, trust, trust! Come and confide in Christ. Rely upon Christ, and He will save you. God grant you Grace to do it at once, and He shall have the praise. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ Bands Of Love (No. 934) DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JUNE 5, 1870, BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON. "I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love: and I was to them as they that take off the yoke on their jaws, and I laid meat unto them." Hosea 11:4. GOD, by the mouth of His Prophet, is here expostulating with His people for their ungrateful rebellion against Him. He had not treated them in a harsh, tyrannical, overbearing manner, else there might have been some excuse for their revolt. But His rule had always been gentle, tender, and full of pity. Therefore, for them to disobey Him was the very height of wanton wickedness. The Lord had never made His people to suffer hard bondage in mortar and in brick as Pharaoh did, yet we do not find that they raised an insurrection against the Egyptian tyrant. They gave their backs to the burdens, and they bore the lash of the taskmaster without turning upon the hands which oppressed them. But when the Lord was gracious to them and delivered them out of the house of bondage, they murmured in the wilderness, and were justly called by Moses, "rebels." They had no such burdens to bear under the government of God as those which loaded the nations under their kings, and yet they willfully determined to have a king for themselves. No taxes were squeezed from them, no servile service was demanded at their hands. Their thank offerings and sacrifices were not ordained upon a scale of oppression. Their liberty was all but boundless--their lives were spent in peace and happiness, every man under his own vine and fig tree--none making them afraid. Yet, since other nations bowed before the rule of despotic kings, these foolish people were not content till they had raised up between them and the Divine government a ruler who would take their daughters to be confectioners in his kitchen, and their sons to be servants in his court. God bore with their ill manners, and gave them a king in His anger. And then, even under the reign of kings, how graciously the Lord their God treated them! If it was necessary for their punishment to give them up for awhile to foreign dominion, how He soon took away the affliction when they cried unto Him! Though they were chastised, yet-- "His strokes were fewer than their crimes, And lighter than their guilt." The whole dealings of Jehovah with His people Israel were full of matchless tenderness. As a nursing mother with her child, so did God deal gently with His people. Yet, hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth! The Lord has nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against Him. Did a nation ever cast away her gods, even though they were not gods? Were not the heathen faithful to their idols? But Israel was bent on backsliding--her heart was set upon idolatry, and the God of her fathers was disregarded. Jehovah was despised, and His gentle reign and government she set herself to destroy. This was the complaint against Israel of old. As in water face answers to face, so the heart of man to man. As men were in days of yore, so are they now. God has dealt with us who are His people in an unexampled way of loving kindness and tender mercy, and I fear that to a great extent the recompense we have rendered to Him has been very much like the ungrateful return which He received from the seed of Jacob of old. This morning I shall ask you to think of the tender dealings of God with you, my Brothers and Sisters, that you may not be as Israel was. But that feeling the power of the Divine gentleness, you may serve your God with a perfect heart, and walk before Him as those should who have partaken of such benefits. The first thing we shall have to consider is the Lords way of leading His people to their duty--"I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love." Secondly, the Lord's Grace in giving His people rest--"I was to them as they that take off the yoke on their jaws." And, thirdly, the suitable nourishment which He gives to His chosen--"I laid meat unto them." I. First, then, THE LORD'S WAY OF EXCITING HIS PEOPLE TO ACTION. We who have believed in Jesus Christ have passed into a new condition with regard to God. We were once, at the very best, only His subjects, and having sinned we were scarcely fit to be called subjects, but rebels, traitors--disgraced with high treason. But now, since Divine Grace has renewed us, we are not only his pardoned subjects, but what is far better, wondrous Grace has made us his Beloved sons and daughters! we are now not so much subjects of His crown as we are children of His care. We are by Grace brought into an entirely different relationship from that of fallen nature, and we are ruled and swayed by motives and regulations altogether unknown to the unregenerate sons of men. The way in which God brings His people to serve Him is that to which I now ask your consideration. It is a way pre-eminently peculiar in its tenderness and kindness. The only cords are cords of a man, and the bands are bands of love. In the heroic days when Xerxes led his army into Greece, there was a remarkable contrast between the way in which the Persian soldiers and the Grecian warriors were urged to combat. The unwilling hosts of Persia were driven to the conflict by blows and stripes from their officers. They were either mercenaries or cowards, and they feared close contact with their opponents. They were driven to their duty as beasts are, with rods and goads. On the other side, the armies of Greece were small, but each man was a patriot and a hero. When they marched to the conflict it was with quick and joyous step, with a martial song upon their lips--and when they neared the foe they rushed upon his ranks with an enthusiasm and a fury which nothing could withstand. No whips were needed for the Spartan men-at-arms. Like high-spirited chargers they would have resented the touch thereof. They were drawn to battle by the cords of a man, and by the bands of patriotic love they were bound to hold their posts at all hazards. "Spartans," would their leaders say, "your fathers disdained to number the Persians with the dogs of their flock and will you be their slaves? Say, is it not better to die as freemen than to live as slaves? What if your foes are many, yet one lion can tear in pieces a far-reaching flock of sheep. Use well your weapons this day! Avenge your slaughtered sires, and fill the courts of Shushan with confusion and lamentation!" Such were the manly arguments which drew the Lacedaemonians and Athenians to the fight--not the whips so fit for beasts, nor the cords so suitable for cattle. This illustration may set forth the difference between the world's service of bondage, and the Christian's religion of love--the worldling is flogged to his duty with fear, and terror, and dread. But the Christian man is touched by motives which appeal to his highest nature--he is affected by motives so dignified as to be worthy of the sons of God. He is not driven as a beast--he is moved as a man. Let me explain. In the first place, the Christian man never works to obtain eternal life. He knows it to be a gift and receives it as such. The unconverted man thinks that there are certain things which he ought to do and by the doing of which he will be saved. And he selfishly, if he is awakened, sets to work to perform these actions with more or less of perseverance in the hope of obtaining pardon for sin and salvation for his soul. Being a son of the bondwoman, he finds his way to Sinai. But the Christian man knows that salvation is not the wage of service, but that life is the gift of God, the dowry bestowed on us by Sovereign Grace--and therefore he never looks for salvation from the Law. As a child of the promise, he wins the New Jerusalem by birthright and by the Covenant of Grace. Legal motives cease to affect the instructed Believer--while he was out of Christ he did, in his ignorance, seek to work out a righteousness of his own--but now he has come to Christ and seen everlasting righteousness finished and brought in. He is saved--he knows that he is saved, and he knows also that he is saved by the merits of Another. Now, being saved, he works out his own salvation with fear and trembling, not that he may save himself, but because he knows he is saved, since God Himself is working in him to will and to do of His own good pleasure. If that man is engaged as a minister of Christ he will never preach as though his salvation depended on his preaching. Let him be occupied in his trade or calling, he will not be honest and sober, conscientious and devout, because he thinks to save himself thereby. No, verily, he has turned his hope away from his own works to the work of Jesus Christ the Redeemer, and therefore that motive of trying to win salvation by merit is disgusting to him. He is so far from yielding to its power, that he utterly loathes it. Let such arguments affect the ungenerous spirits that can live for themselves, but over us it has no power. We are saved, and now being saved. Out of love to the Father and the Well-Beloved we are impelled to service. Neither does a Christian seek to serve God with the idea that he is to keep himself in spiritual life by such service. I have heard it more or less insinuated that although we are saved at present, and have eternal life in present possession, yet all depends on our own faithfulness. And if we are not what we should be, eternal life will die out and the Divine Grace given will be withdrawn. I must confess I find in the Bible nothing of the kind, neither do I pray, nor read the Scriptures, nor attend Divine worship with the remotest idea of sustaining my own spiritual life. The spiritual life which the Holy Spirit gives us cannot die. It is eternal as the life of God. It is a living and incorruptible seed which abides forever. A true Believer in Christ is most safe, for he can never perish, neither can any pluck him out of Christ's hands. The dread of being driven out of the Divine family is not a motive capable of stirring his heavenly nature. He knows that because Jesus lives he shall live also. He is not forced to holiness by dread of being forsaken of his God. He does not believe such a thing to be possible. He leaves a motive so slavish to the poor sons of Hagar who, like their bondslave mother, cannot dwell with the child of promise. As for the Christian, other and higher considerations rule him. He is drawn by the cords of a man and by the bands of love. Further, you will see the gentleness of the way in which God calls His people to duty in the fact that He is pleased to accept their service even when it is, in itself, far from being at all worthy of His smile. O my Brethren, if you and I had to be saved or to be preserved in spiritual life by our doings, then nothing but perfection in service could answer our turn. And every time we felt that what we had done was marred and imperfect we should be full of despair. But now we know that we are already saved, and are forever safe, since nothing remains unfinished in the work which justifies us. We bring to the Lord the loving offerings of our hearts, and if they are imperfect we water with our tears those imperfections. We know that He reads our hearts and takes our works not for what they are in themselves but for what they are in Christ. He knows what we would make them if we could. He accepts them as if they were what we mean them to be. He takes the will for the deed often, and He takes the half deed often for the whole. And when Justice would condemn the action as sinful, for it is so imperfect, the mercy of our Father accepts the action in the Beloved, because He knows what we meant it to be. And though our fault has marred it, yet He knows how our hearts sought to honor Him. Oh, it is such a blessed thing to remember that though the Law cannot accept anything but what is perfect, yet God, in the Gospel, as we come to Him as saved souls, accepts our imperfect things! Why, there is our love! How cold it often is, and yet Jesus Christ takes pleasure in our love! Then, again, our faith, I must almost call it unbelief, it is often so weak--and yet though it is as a grain of mustard seed, Jesus accepts it, and works wonders by it. As for our poor prayers, often so broken with so many distracted thoughts in them, and so poverty-stricken in importunity and earnestness, yet our dear Lord takes them, washes them in His blood, adds His own merit to them, and they come up as a sweet savor before the Most High. It is delightfully encouraging to know that in our sincere but feeble service the Scripture is fulfilled--"a bruised reed shall He not break, and a smoking flax will He not quench." Even our green ears of corn may be laid on the altar. If we cannot bring a lamb, our turtle doves and two young pigeons shall be received. Then, further, our gracious Lord gives us promises of help in all holy exercises. Under the Law it is, "Make the bricks," but there is no promise of straw. Under the Gospel we have help for every time of need. You know how it is written, "The Spirit also helps our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought." Our good works are rather God's works than ours, in so far as they are good. He first of all gives us good works, and then rewards us for them, as if they were all our own. "You have worked all our works in us." "I am like a green fir tree, from me is your fruit found." Yes, blessed be God, all true fruit of Grace comes from Him. Is not this a charmingly powerful motive to service? Though it is so different from the reasons which drag on the sons of men, do we not feel it to be mightily operative? The Lord will help us in the service, and render unto man according to his work. He has said, "Fear you not. For I am with you: be not dismayed. For I am your God: I will strengthen you; yes, I will help you; yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of My righteousness." Furthermore, as if more fully to show how we are drawn with the cords of love and bands of a man, all the motives which are used to impel us to service appeal to that which is most honorable in our regenerated manhood. We have frequently heard the objection of those who oppose the Doctrines of Grace, "If I believed as you do, that all true Believers are saved, and shall never perish, I should live as I like." Our answer is, "It is highly probable that you, as an unconverted man, would do so. But if you had received a new nature, and all your tastes were changed, matters would stand otherwise." For a Christian to live as he likes would be to but live an absolutely pure and perfectly holy life. The Holy Spirit implants within His people at their new birth a dignity and nobility of character to which they were utterly strangers before. And they would not, and could not, sin as once they did. They cannot sin as before because they are born of God. The things which they took pleasure in before, now seem to them groveling and despicable. They seek after higher and nobler objects. I believe that Gospel motives, if they were addressed to all mankind promiscuously, would prove a failure as much as if we tried to excite enthusiasm in all men by poetic imagery or profoundly philosophical argument. But Gospel motives to God's people are as nails fastened in a sure place. They are suitable, and therefore effectual. You could not hope to govern the nation by the same ruler and methods with which, as a father, you order your family. In your family it may be there is not even a rod, certainly there is no policeman, no prison, no black cap. Children are ruled by a father on a scheme essentially different from the rule of magistrates and kings. There are maxims of courts of legislature which would never be tolerated in the home of love. Just so, within the family of God there are no penal inflictions, no words of threat such as must be employed by the great King when He deals with the mass of His rebellious subjects. You are not under the Law, else there would be judgment and curses for you. You are under Grace, and now the motives by which you are to be moved are such as might not affect others, but which, since you are renewed in the spirit of your mind, most powerfully affect you. It is a great thing for a man to feel that God does not now appeal to him as He would to an ordinary person, but that having given him a new nature, He addresses him on higher grounds. "I beseech you therefore, Brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world: but be you transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God." We have known of a boy in school whose conduct has been greatly improved when the master has had wisdom enough to appeal to his better qualities. When the lad has felt that his age, or superiority of position have demanded better things of him, he has yielded to the motive. In dealing with His people, the Lord appeals to their higher characteristics. He does not say to the regenerate man as He did to Adam, "Do this and you shall die." He says to him, "He that believes in Christ shall never die. I will never leave you nor forsake you. I have loved you with an everlasting love: what, then, is your return for all this love?" The really saved soul, overwhelmed with gratitude, exclaims, "My God, my Father, I cannot sin, I must live as You would have me, I must serve You. Such love as this touches my heart, it stirs everything that is noble that You have implanted in me. Tell me what Your will is, and whether I have to bear it or to do it, I will delight in it if You will give me all-sufficient Grace." Yes, the Lord always appeals to the higher points in the Christian's constitution, and thus He draws us with the cords of a man, with bands of love. Let us add that love is always the great master force in moving Christians. Terror is but little used--threats and wrath are laid aside. Gospel arguments are molded in this fashion, "The love of Christ constrains us; because we thus judge, that if One died for all, then were all dead: and that He died for all, that they which live should not from now on live unto themselves." Jesus seems to plead, "I have made you, even you, poor defiled one, to be precious in My sight. Do you love Me? If you love Me, keep My commandments, and feed My sheep. "I have bought you, even with My heart's blood have I redeemed you out from among the people, and from the chief men thereof. Does not My love constrain you? Will you not give yourself to My service, to promote My Glory?" All-conquering Love is master of all our forces. He is the Commander-in-Chief of all our powers. When the love of God is manifestly shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, our duty becomes our highest delight, and the work of God our highest joy. Rutherford, speaking of how his Lord encouraged him with sweet fellowship while he was serving Him, says in his quaint way, "When my Master sends me on His errands, He often gives me a trinket for myself." By which he means, as sure as ever God sent him on His errands He gave him a penny for reward, as we do to boys. How often have our prayers for others returned into our own bosom? How often do we find it a blessing to bless others? Have you not found it so? You have been trying to comfort God's people, and the comfort has been reflected upon your own soul. You watered others and thereby were watered yourself. You were trying to praise God--you were not thinking of yourself--but as you sang you obtained a blessing, your heart mounted higher and higher, and you blessed your Lord with an exhilaration of spirit you had not known before. The praises of God's people are poured forth, even as larks give forth their songs. They sing, not because they ought, but because they delight to sing. They fulfill their nature, and find in it their happiness. Virtue and holiness become to God's people a delight--they take pleasure in it--sin is hateful, but holiness is lovely to them. As it will be their highest Heaven to be perfect, so now their nearest approach to Heaven is when they are by God's Spirit sanctified and led into nearness to Christ. Thus I have, without dwelling on the mere words, given you the sense of the first clause of the text, "I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love." The impelling, urging powers that lead Christians on to consecration and holiness are never those which befit slaves or carnal minds. They are such as are worthy of the dignity of the sons of God, and they are full of tenderness, and kindness, and love. For the gentleness of God is great towards His people. II. I shall now ask you to turn to the next sentence, and observe HOW THE LORD GIVES REST TO HIS PEOPLE--"I was to them as they that take off the yoke on their jaws, and I laid meat unto them." Sometimes a common illustration may be more forcible than a more refined comparison, and I shall give you in a moment a very homely one. The passage here means that God treated His people as farmers, when they are merciful, treat the bullocks with which they have been plowing. They lift off the yoke from them, withdraw the muzzle, and then give them their food. But our explanation of it shall be a sight more common. Out there in yonder street stand still and observe. Yonder inn is a common halting place. Watch it a moment. Here comes a huge, heavily loaded van. Three or four steaming, panting horses have been laboriously dragging along this mountain on wheels. They are greatly in need of rest. The word is given, and the poor animals gladly stand still. Down comes the driver from his box. The reins are dropped and he proceeds to take the bits out of the poor creatures' mouths. How pleased they seem to be to get rid of the bits which have been so long between their jaws. Nor is the rest all the horses get, they shall have a draught of water, or the well-filled nose bags shall be fitted upon them and they shall rest and feed. I thought of this text when I looked at that sight the other day. It is the exact explanation of the text, "I was to them as they that take off the yoke from their jaws, and I laid meat unto them." As you see wearied horses contentedly and happily take their rest and feed, you have before you precisely what the Prophet meant. God takes the bits out of His servants' mouths, the yoke from their backs, brings them their food, and bids them feed and rest and be happy. Let us take, then, the first point, "I was to them as they that take off the yoke." Now, the Lord has taken off from His people a great many yokes, or the same yoke under different aspects. He has taken many bits out of their mouths. First, there was the old yoke of ceremonialism--what a burden that must have been to Believers under the Law! There was this they must not eat, and that they must not drink, and the other they must not wear. There was this to be done on one day and that to be done on another. It was always touch not, taste not, handle not, and so on. They were environed and surrounded with all sorts of legislation, and hedged in by laws about their houses, their clothes, their beds, their drinking vessels. Legislation about birds and beasts and fishes--about everything, in fact. But now Christ has taken off that yoke from us, and "touch not, taste not, handle not," stands as an abrogated Law. We have given to us a liberty, a freedom from every yoke of bondage--and though there are some who are for bringing in new ceremonial laws, with holy places, and holy days, and holy things, and priests, and rites, and ceremonies--and I know not what--these are the children of the bondwoman, we regard them not. Under the Law of Liberty which Christ has proclaimed, we are free, indeed-- "Wherever we seek Him He is found, And everyplace is hallowed ground." Every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused. Now it is the heart that is holy or unholy, and not the thing. What our Lord has cleansed, we count no longer common or unclean. Carnal ordinances of outward things are put away as childish things. We worship God in the Spirit, and have no confidence in the flesh. "Stand fast therefore in the liberty