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<h4 style="text-align: center">
A Sermon<br>
(No. 220)<br>
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, November 16th, 1856, by<br>
the<br>
REV. C.H. SPURGEON<br>
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.<br>
</h4>
<p>BELOVED FRIENDS AND KINDRED IN CHRIST,<br>
<p>
The days seem like weeks and the weeks seem like months
since I went up to the house of the Lord. My heart and my
flesh are crying out for the assembly of the saints. Oh
how I long to hear once more the solemn shout of the
festal throng who with the voice of joy and praise keep
holy day!
</p>
<p>
I am slowly rallying. My great struggle now is with
weakness. I feel as if my frail bark had weathered a
heavy storm which has made every timber creak. Do not
attribute this illness to my having laboured too hard for
my Master. For his dear sake, I would that I may yet be
able to labour more. Such toils as might be hardly
noticed in the ramp for the service of one's country,
would excite astonishment in the church for the service
of our God.
</p>
<p>
And now, I entreat you for love's sake to continue in
prayer for me. When ye find access to God, remember me.
Mind it is not by the words of your mouth, nor yet by the
cravings of your heart, but it is by the precious blood
of Christ ye must draw nigh to God. And when ye find his
sweet presence and are bedewed with his holy anointing,
then pour out your souls before him, and make mention of
me in your supplications.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p style="text-align: right">
Yours to love and serve in the Gospel,<br>
C.&nbsp;H.&nbsp;SPURGEON.
</p>
<p>Clapham, Tuesday Evening, 26th October, 1858.</p>
<br>
<p>
</p>
<p class="scripture">
"Fear ye not me? saith the Lord; will ye not tremble at my
presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea
by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the
waves thereof toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though
they roar, yet can they not pass over it? But this people hath
a revolting and a rebellious heart; they are revolted and
gone."<22> <a onClick="return mV('Jer', 5, '22-23');">Jer 5:22-23</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
THE MAJESTY OF God, as displayed in creation and providence,
ought to stir up our hearts in adoring wonder and melt them
down in willing obedience to his commands. The Almighty power
of Jehovah, so clearly manifest in the works if his hands,
should constrain us, his creatures, to fear his name and
prostrate ourselves in humble reverence before his throne. When
we know that the sea, however tempestuous, is entirely
submissive to the behests of God; that when he saith, "Hitherto
shalt thou come, but no further," it dares not
encroach<63>"the pride of its waves is stayed." When we know
that God bridles the tempest, though "nature rocks beneath his
tread," and curbs the boisterous storm<72>he ought to be
feared<65>verily, he is a God before whom it is no dishonour
for us to bow ourselves in the very dust. The contemplation of
the marvellous works which he doth upon "the great and wide
sea," where he tosseth the waves to and fro, and yet keepeth
them in their ordained courses, should draw forth our devoutest
emotions, and I could almost say, inspire us with homage. Great
art thou, O Lord God; greatly art thou to be praised; let the
world which thou hast made, and all that therein is, declare
thy glory! I can scarcely conceive a heart so callous that it
feels no awe, or a human mind so dull and destitute of
understanding, as fairly to view the tokens of God's omnipotent
power, and then turn aside without some sense of the fitness of
obedience. One might think the impression would be spontaneous
in every breast, and if not, only let reason do her office, and
by slower process every mind should yet be convinced. Let your
eyes behold the stars; God alone can tell their numbers, yet he
calls them all by names; by him they are marshalled in their
spheres, and travel through the aerial universe just as he
gives them charge; they are all his <i>servants,</i> who with
cheerful haste perform the bidding of their Lord. You see how
the stormy wind and tempest like <i>slaves</i> obey his will;
and you know that the great pulse of ocean throbs and vibrates
with its ebb and flow entirely under his control. Have these
great things of God, these wondrous works of his, no lesson to
teach us? Do they not while declaring his glory reveal our
duty? Our poets, both the sacred and the uninspired, have
feigned consciousness to those inanimate agents that they might
the more truthfully represent their honourable service. But if
because we are rational and intelligent beings, we withhold our
allegiance from our rightful Sovereign, then our privileges are
a curse, and our glory is a shame. Alas, then the instincts of
men very often guide them to act by impulse more wisely than
they commonly do by a settled conviction. Where is the man that
will not bend the knee in time of tempest? Where is the man
that does not acknowledge God when he hears the terrible voice
of his deep-toned thunder, and sees with alarm the shafts of
his lightning fly abroad, cleaving the thick darkness of the
atmosphere? In times of plague, famine, and pestilence, men are
prone to take refuge in religion<6F>they will make
confession, like Pharaoh, when he said, "I have sinned this
time: the lord is righteous, and I and my people are wicked;"
but like him, when "the rain, and the hail, and the thunders
have ceased," when the plagues are removed, then they sin yet
more, and their hearts are hardened. Hence their sin becomes
exceeding sinful, since they sin against truths which even
nature itself teaches us are most just. We might learn, even
without the written oracles of Scripture, that we ought to obey
God, if our foolish hearts were not so darkened; thus unbelief
of the Almighty Creator is a crime of the first magnitude. If
it were a petty Sovereign against whom ye rebelled, it might be
pardonable; if he were a man like yourselves, ye might expect
that your faults would easily find forgiveness; but since he is
the God who reigns alone where clouds and darkness are round
about him, the God to whom all nature is obedient, and whose
high behests are obeyed both in heaven and in hell, it becomes
a crime, the terrible character of which words cannot pourtray,
that you should ever sin against a God so marvellously great.
The greatness of God enhances the greatness of our sin. I
believe this is one lesson which the prophet intended to teach
us by the text. He asks us in the name of God, or rather, God
asks us through him<69>"Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will
ye not tremble at my presence?"
</p>
<p class="indent">
But while it is <i>a</i> lesson, I do not think it is
<i>the</i> lesson of the text. There is something else which we
are to learn from it. God here contrasts the obedience of the
strong, the mighty the untamed sea, with the rebellious
character of his own people. "The sea," saith he, "obeys me; it
never breaks its boundary; it never leapeth from its channel;
it obeys me in all its movements. But man, poor puny man, the
little creature whom I could crush as the moth, will not be
obedient to me. The sea obeys me from shore to shore, without
reluctance, and its ebbing floods, as they retire from its bed,
each of them says to me, in the voices of the pebbles, 'O Lord,
we are obedient to thee, for thou art our master.' But my
people," says God, "are a revolting and a rebellious people;
they go astray from me." And is it not, my brethren, a
marvellous thing, that the whole earth is obedient to God, save
man? Even the mighty Leviathan, who maketh the deep to be
hoary, sinneth not against God, but his course is ordered
according to his Almighty Master's decree. Stars, those
wondrous masses of light, are easily directed by the very wish
of God; clouds, though they seem erratic in their movement,
have God for their pilot; "he maketh the clouds his chariot;"
and the winds, though they seem restive beyond control, yet do
they blow, or cease to blow just as God willeth. In heaven, on
earth, even in the lower regions, I had almost said, we could
scarcely find such a disobedience as that which is practised by
man; at least, in heaven, there is a cheerful obedience; and in
hell there is constrained submission to God, while on earth man
makes the base exception, he is continually revolting and
rebelling against his Maker.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Still there is another thought in the text, and this I shall
endeavour to dilate upon. Let us read it again. "Fear ye not
me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my
presence?"<22>now here is the pith of the matter<65>"which
have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a perpetual
decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof
toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though they soar,
yet can they not pass over it? But this people hath a revolting
and a rebellious heart; they are revolted and gone." "The sea,"
says God, "is not only obedient, but it is rendered obedient by
the restraint merely of sand." It is not the rock of adamant
that restrains the sea one half so easily as just that little
belt of sand and shingle which preserves the dry land from the
inundations of the ocean. "The sea obeys me, and has for its
only check the sand; and yet," says he, "my people, though they
have restraints the strongest that reason could imagine, are a
revolting and a rebellious people, and scarcely can my
commands, my promises, my love, my judgment, my providence or
my word restrain them from sin."
</p>
<p class="indent">
That is the point we shall dwell upon this morning. <i>The sea
is easily restrained by a belt of sand; but we, notwithstanding
all the restraints of God, are a people bent on revolting from
him.</i>
</p>
<p class="indent">
The doctrine of the text, seems to me to be this<69>that
without supernatural means God can make all creatures obedient
save man; but man is so disobedient in his heart, that only
some supernatural agency can make him obedient to God, while
the simple agency of sand can restrain the sea, without any
stupendous effort of divine power more than he ordinarily puts
out in nature: he can not thus make man obedient to his will.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Now, my brethren, let us look back into history, and see if it
has not been so. What has been a greater problem, if we may so
speak concerning the Divine mind, than that of restraining men
from sin? How many restraints God has put upon man! Adam is in
the garden, pure and holy; he has restraints that one would
think strong enough to prevent his committing a sin so
contemptible and apparently unprofitable as that by which he
fell. He is to have the whole garden in perpetuity, if he will
not eat of that tree of life; his God will walk with him, and
make him his friend; moreover, in the cool of the day, he shall
hold converse with angels, and with the Lord, the Master of
angels; and yet he dares eat of that holy fruit which God had
set forth not to be touched by man. Then he must die. One would
think it was enough, to promise reward for obedience, and
punishment for sin; but no, the check fails. Man, left to his
own free will, touches the fruit, and he falls. Man cannot be
restrained, even in his purity, so easily as the mighty sea.
Since that time, mark what God has done by way of restraint.
The world has become corrupt it is altogether covered with
iniquity. Forth comes a prophet. Enoch prophesies of the coming
of the Lord, declaring that he sees him coming with ten
thousand of his saints to judge the world. That world goes on,
as profane and unheeding as before. Another prophet is raised
up, and cries, "Yet a little while, and this earth shall be
drowned in a flood of water." Do men cease from sin? No;
profligacy, crime, iniquities of the vilest class, are as
prevalent as before. Man rushes on to his destruction; the
deluge comes and destroys all but a favoured few. The new
family goes out to people the earth: will not the world now be
clean and holy? Wait a little, and ye shall see. One of these
men will do a deed which shall render him a curse for ever, and
his son Canaan shall in after years inherit his father's curse.
Not long after that you see Sodom and Gomorrah devoured with
fire which God rains out of heaven. But what of this? What
though in later years Pharaoh and his chariots are drowned in
the Red sea? What though Sennacherib and his hosts perish at
midnight by the blast of an archangel? What though the world
reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, being drunken
with the wine of God's wrath? What though the earth be scarred
and burned by war? What though it be deluged with floods? What
though it be oppressed with famines, pestilences, and diseases?
She still goes on in the same manner; at this hour the world is
a sinful, rebellious world, and until God shall work a work in
our day, such as we shall scarce believe, though a man tell it
to us, the world shall never be pure and holy. The sea is
restrained by sand; we admire the beautiful poetic fact; but
man, being naturally more ungovernable than the storm and more
impetuous than the ocean, is not to be tamed; he will not bend
his neck to the Lord, nor will he be obedient to the God of the
whole earth.
</p>
<p class="indent">
"But what of this fact?"<22>you say<61>"we know it is true;
we do not doubt it." Stay awhile; I am now coming to deal with
your hearts and consciences; and may the Holy Spirit help me in
doing so! I shall divide, as God would divide
them,<2C><i>saints</i> and <i>sinners.</i>
</p>
<p class="indent">
First of all, ye <i>saints,</i> I have a word to say to you. I
want you to look at this as a doctrine not more evident in the
history of mankind at large, than abundantly verified in your
own case. Come, now, I want to ask of you this morning, whether
it cannot be said of you truly<6C>"The sea is bound by sand;
but I am one of those people who are bent on revolting from
God, neither can any of his restraints keep me from sin." Let
us review, for a few moments, the various restraints which God
has put upon his people to keep them from sins which,
nevertheless, are altogether ineffectual, without the
accompanying power of irresistible grace.
</p>
<p class="indent">
First, then, remember there is a restraint of gratitude which,
to the lowly regenerated heart, must necessarily form a very
strong motive to obedience. I can conceive of nothing that
ought so much to prompt me to obedience as the thought that I
owe so much to God. O heir of heaven! thou canst look back to
eternity and see thy name in life's fair book set down; thou
canst sing of electing love; thou dost believe that a covenant
was made with Christ in thy behalf, and that thy salvation was
made secure in that moment when the hands of the Eternal Son
grasped the stylus and signed his name as the representative of
all the elect. Thou believest that on Calvary thy sins were all
atoned for; thou hast in thy soul the conviction that thy sins,
past, present, and to come, were all numbered on the
scape-goat's head of old, and carried away for ever; thou
believest that neither death nor hell can ever divide thee from
thy Saviour's breast; thou knowest that there is laid up for
thee a crown of life which fadeth not away, and thine expectant
soul anticipates that with branches of palms in thine hands,
with crowns of gold on thine head, and streets of gold beneath
thy feet, thou shalt be happy for ever. Thou believest thyself
to be one of the favoured of heaven, a special object of divine
solicitation; thou thinkest that all things work together for
thy good, yea, thou art persuaded that everything in providence
has a special regard to thee, and to thy favoured brethren. I
ask thee, O saint, is not this a bond strong enough to keep
thee from sin? If it were not for the desperate unstableness of
thy heart, wouldst thou not be restrained from sin by this? Is
not thy sin exceeding sinful, because it is sin against
electing love, against redeeming peace, against all-surpassing
mercy, against matchless affection, against shoreless grace,
against spotless love? Ah! sin has reached its climax, when it
dares to sin against such love as this. O Christian! thine
affection to thy Lord and Master should restrain thee from
iniquity. And is it not a fearful proof of the terrible
character of thine heart, of thine heart even now, for still
thou hast evil remaining in it, that all the ties of gratitude
are still incapable of keeping thee from unholiness. The sins
of yesterday rise to thy memory now. Oh! look back on them. Do
they not tell thee that thou dost sin most ungratefully? O
saint! didst thou not yesterday use thy Master's name in vain,
and not thy Master's only, but thy Father's name? Hadst thou
not yesterday an unbelieving heart? Wast thou not petulant when
girded with favours that ought to make a living man unwilling
to complain? Wast thou not, when God hath forgiven thee ten
thousand talents, angry with thy neighbour, who owed thee a
hundred pence? Ah Christian! thou art not yet free from sin,
nor wilt thou be, until thou hast washed thy garments in
death's black stream, and then thou shalt be holy, as holy as
the glorified and pure and spotless, even as the angels around
the throne, but not till then. I ask thee, O saint, viewing thy
sins as sins against love and mercy, against covenant promises,
covenant oaths, covenant engagements, ay, and covenant
fulfilments, is not thy sin a desperate thing, and art not thou
thyself a rebellious and revolting being, seeing that thou
canst not be restrained by such a barrier of adamant as thy
soul acknowledges?
</p>
<p class="indent">
Next notice, that the saint has not only this barrier against
sin, but many others. He has the whole of God's Word given him
by way of warning; its pages he is accustomed to read; he reads
there, that if he break the statutes and keep not the
commandments of the Lord, his Father will visit his
transgressions with a rod, and his iniquity with stripes. He
has before him in God's Word abundant examples. He finds a
David going with broken bones to his grave after his sin; he
finds a Samson shorn of his locks, and with his eyes put out;
he sees proof upon proof that sin will find a man out; that the
backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways. Abundant
warnings there are for the child of God, not of saints who have
perished, for we have none such on record in Scripture, and
none ever shall finally perish<73>but we have many warnings
of great and grievous damages sustained by God's own children
when they have sailed out of their proper course. And yet, O
Christian, against all warning and against all precept thou
darest to sin. Oh! art thou not a rebellious creature, and
mayest thou not this morning humble thyself at the thought of
the greatness of thine iniquity?
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again: the saint sins against his own experience, When he looks
back upon his past life he finds that sin has always been a
loss to him; he has never found any profit, but has always lost
by it. He remembers such and such a transgression; it appeared
sweet to him at the time, but oh! it made his Master withdraw
his presence and hide his face. The saint can look back on the
time when sin hung like a mill-stone round his neck, and he
felt the terrible flame of remorse burning in his soul, and
knew how evil a thing and bitter it is to sin against God. And
yet the saint sins. Now, if the unconverted man sins, he does
not sin against his own experience, for he has not had that
true heartfelt experience that renders sin exceeding sinful.
But every time thou sinnest, O grey-headed saint, thou sinnest
with a vengeance, for thou hast had all through thy life so
much proof of what sin has been to thee. Thou hast not been
deceived about it, for thou hast felt its bitterness in thy
bowels: and when thou sippest the accursed draught thou art
infatuated indeed, because thou sinnest against experience. Ay,
and the youngest of the saints, have you not been made to taste
the bitterness of sin? I know you have, if you are saints! and
will you go and dip your fingers in the nauseous cup? Will you
put the poisoned goblet to your lips again? Yes, you will; but
because you do so in the teeth of your experience, it ought to
make you weep, that you should be such desperate rebels against
such a loving God, who has put not merely a barrier of sand,
but a barrier of tried steel to keep in your lusts, and yet
they will break forth; verily ye are a rebellious and revolting
people.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Then again, God guards all his children with providence, in
order to keep them from sin. I could tell you, even from the
little experience I have had of spiritual things, many cases in
which I feel I have been kept from sin by Divine providence.
There have been seasons when the strong hand of sin has
appeared for a while to get the mastery over us, and we have
been dragged along by some strong inherent lust, which we were
prone to practise before our regeneracy. We were intoxicated
with the lust, we remember how pleasurable it was to us in the
days of our iniquity, how we revelled in it, till we were on a
sudden dragged to the very edge of the precipice, and we looked
down; our brain reeled, we could not stand; and do we not
remember how just then some striking providence came in our
way, and saved us, or else we should have been excommunicated
from the church for violating the rules of propriety. Ah!
strange things happen to some of us; strange things have
happened to some of you. It was only a providence which on some
sad and solemn occasion, to which you never look back without
regret, saved you from sin which would have been a scab on your
character. Bless God for that! But remember, notwithstanding
the girdlings of his providence, how many times you have
offended; and let the frequency of your sin remind you that you
must indeed be a rebellious creature. Though he has afflicted
you, you have sinned; though he has given you chastisement, you
have sinned; though he has put you in the furnace. yet the
dross has not departed from you. Oh! how corrupt your hearts
are, and how prone you are still to wander, notwithstanding all
the barriers God has given you to encompass you!
</p>
<p class="indent">
Yet, once more let me remind you, beloved, that the ordinances
of God's house are all intended to be checks to sin. He girds
us by the worship of the sanctuary; he girds us by the
remembrance of our holy baptism; and all else that is connected
with Christianity is intended to check us from sin. And great
are the effects which these produce; yet all are insufficient,
without the preserving grace of God, given to us day by day.
Let us think, beloved, too, that God has given to us a tender
conscience, more tender than the conscience of worldly men,
because he has given us living consciences, whereas theirs are
often seared and dead. And yet, against this living conscience,
against the warnings of the Spirit, against precept, against
promise, against experience, against the honour of God, and
against the gratitude they owe him, the saints of God have
dared to sin, and they must confess before him that they are
rebellious, and have revolted from him. Bow down your heads
with shame while ye consider your ways, and then lift up your
hearts, Christians, in adoring love, that he has kept you when
your feet were making haste to hell, where you would have gone,
but for his preserving grace. Shall not this long suffering of
your God, this tender compassion, be your theme every day<61>
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"While life, and thought, and being last,<br>
Or immortality endures?"
</p>
<p>
Will you not pray, that God should not cast you away, nor take
his Holy Spirit from you, though you are a rebellious creature,
and though you have revolted against him?
</p>
<p class="indent">
This is for the saints; and now may the Spirit help me, while I
strive to apply it to <i>sinners!</i> Sinner, I have solemn
things to say to thee this morning; lend me for a few minutes
thy very closest attention; I will speak to thee as though this
were the last message I should ever deliver in thine ear. I
have asked my God, that I may so speak to thee, O sinner, that
if I win not thy heart I may at least be free from thy blood;
and that if I am not able to convince thee of thy sin, I may at
any rate make thee without excuse in that day "when God shall
judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to my
gospel." Come, then, sinner; in the first place, I bid thee
consider thy guilt. Thou hast heard what I have said. The
mighty ocean is kept in obedience by God, and restrained within
its channel by simple sand; and thou, a pitiful worm, the
creature of a day, the ephemera of an hour, thou art a rebel
against God. The sea obeys him; thou dost not. Consider, I
beseech thee, how many restraints God has put on thee: he has
not checked thy lusts with sand but with beetling cliffs; and
yet thou hast burst through every bound in the violence of thy
transgressions. Perhaps he has checked thy soul by the
remembrance of thy guilt. Thou hast this morning felt thyself a
despiser of God; or if not a despiser, thou art a mere hearer,
and hast no part nor lot in this matter. Dost thou not remember
thy sins in the face of thy mother's counsels and thy father's
strong admonitions? Do they never check thee? Dost thou never
think thou seest a mother's tears coming after thee? Hast thou
never heard a father's prayer for thee? When thou hast been
spending thy nights in dissipation, and hast gone home late to
thy bed, hast thou never thought thou hast seen thy father's
spirit at thy bed side, offering one more prayer for an
Absalom, his son, or for an Ishmael, his rebellious child?
Consider what thou hast learned, child! Baptized with a
mother's tears, almost immersed in them; thou wast early taught
to know something of God; when thou didst go from thy mother's
knees, thou wentest to those of a pious teacher; thou wast
trained in a Sabbath school, or at any rate thou wast taught to
read the Bible. Thou knowest the threatenings of God; it is no
new tale to thee, when I warn thee that sinners must be
condemned; it is no new story when I tell thee that saints
shall wear the starry crown; thou knowest all that. Consider,
then, how great is thy guilt; thou hast sinned against light
and knowledge; thou art not the Hottentot sinner, who sins in
darkness, but thou art a sinner before high heaven, in the full
light of day; thou hast not sinned ignorantly, thou hast done
it when thou knewest better; and when thou comest to he lost,
thou shalt have an additional doom, because thou didst know thy
duty, but thou didst it not. I charge that home upon thee, I
charge it solemnly upon thy conscience; is it true, or is it
not? Some of you have had other things. Don't you remember,
some little time ago, when sickness was rife, you were
stretched on your bed? One night you will never forget;
sickness had got strong hold of you, and the strong man bowed
himself. Do you not remember what a sight you had then of the
regions of the damned; not with your eyes, but with your
conscience? You thought you heard their shrieks; you thought
you would be amongst them yourself soon. Methinks I see you;
you turned your face to the wall, and you cried, "O God, if
thou wilt save my life, I will give myself to thee!" Perhaps it
was an accident; thou didst fear that death was very near; the
terrors of death laid hold of thee, and thou didst cry, "Oh!
God, let me but reach home in safety, and my bended knees and
my tears pouring in torrents, shall prove that I am sincere in
the vow I make." But didst thou perform that vow? Nay, thou
hast sinned against God; thy broken vows have gone before thee
to judgment. Dost thou think it a little thing to make a
promise to thy fellow creature and break it? It may be so in
thine estimation, but not so in that of honest men. But dost
thou think it a little thing to promise to thy Maker, and to
break thy promise? There is no light penalty for sinning
against the Almighty God; it will cost thee thy soul, man, and
thy soul's blood for ever, if thou goest on in this fashion.
Vow and pay, or if thou payest not, vow not; for God shall
visit those vows upon thee, in the day when he maketh
inquisition for blood, and destroyeth thy soul. Thou hast been
guarded thus; remember that thou hast had extraordinary
deliverances, the disease did not kill thee; thy broken bones
were healed; thou didst not die; when the jaws of death were
uplifted, they did not close upon thee: here thou art still.
Thy life is spared.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Oh! my dear hearers, some of you are the worst; you have
regularly sat in these pews<77>God is my witness, how
earnestly I have longed for you all in the bowels of Christ. I
have not shunned to declare the whole counsel of God to you. If
I had been a time-server, and kept back part of the truth, much
more honour would I have received from men than I have
received; but I have cleared my conscience, I trust, from your
blood. How many times have I seen men and women cry, the hot
tears falling down their cheeks in quick succession? and
expected that I should have seen a change in some of your
lives. But how many of you there are, who have gone on sinning
against warnings, which, I am sure, though they may have been
excelled in eloquence, have never been exceeded in heartiness!
Do you think it a little thing to sin against God's ambassador?
It is no little sin: every time we sin against the warnings we
have received, we sin so much the more heinously. But there are
some<6D>I had hope for you, but ye have gone back to the ways
of perdition; I have cried, "Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye
die?" But I have been obliged to go to my Master with that
exclamation, "Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the
arm of the Lord revealed?" Woe unto thee, Bethsaida; it were
better for thee that thou hadst been Tyre and Sidon than that
thou shouldst have been left in the midst of privileges, if
thou shouldst perish at last! Woe unto you, hearers of New Park
Street! Woe unto you that listen not to the voice of the
minister here! If ye perish beneath our warnings, ye shall
perish in a horrible manner! Woe unto thee, Capernaum! thou art
exalted unto heaven, but thou shalt be cast down to hell." Woe
unto thee, young woman! thou hast had a pious mother, and thou
hast had many warnings. Woe unto thee, young man! thou hast
been a profligate youth; thou hast been brought to this house
of prayer from thine infancy, and thou art sitting there even
now; often does thy conscience prick thee; often thy heart hast
told thee that thou art wrong; and yet thou art still
unchanged! Woe unto thee! Woe unto thee! And yet will I cry
unto my God, that he would avert that woe and pardon thee; that
he would not let thee die, but bring thee unto himself, lest
now ye perish in your sins. Ye sinners! God has a controversy
with you; he tames the sea, but ye will not be tamed; nothing
but his marvellous grace exerted in you will ever check you in
your lusts. You have sinned against warnings and reproofs,
against providences, mercies, and judgments, and still ye sin.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Oh! my hearers, when you sin, you do not sin so cheaply as
others; for when you sin, you sin in the very teeth of hell.
There is not a man or woman in this place, I am sure, who, when
he or she sins, does not know that hell is the inevitable
consequence! Sirs, ye do not sin in the dark. When God shall
give you the wages of your iniquity, you shall not be able to
say, "O God, I did not know this would be the pay for my
labour." When thou didst sow tares, thou couldst not expect
that thou shouldst reap wheat; thou knowest "that they who sow
carnal things, shall reap carnal things;" thou art sowing to
the flesh, but not with the hope that thou wilt reap salvation;
for thou knowest that "he who soweth to the flesh, shall of the
flesh reap corruption." Sinner, it is a dreadful thing to sin,
when God puts hell before thee! What! sin when he has given out
his threatening? Sin! while Sinai is thundering, while hell is
blazing? Ay, that is to sin indeed. But how many of you, may
dear hearers, have sinned like this. I would to God, that he
would turn this house into a Bochim, that you might weep over
your guilt. It is the hardest thing in the world to make men
believe their guilt. If we could once get them to do that, we
should find that Christ would reveal to them his salvation. I
cannot with my poor voice and my weak utterance, even bring you
to think that it is Christ Jesus in the ministry of his Spirit
who can give you a true and real sense of your sin. Hath he
done so? Hath he blessed my words to any of you? Do any of you
feel your sins? Do any of you know that you are rebellious? Do
you say, from this time forth you will mend your ways? Sirs,
let me tell you, you cannot do that. Are you better than the
mightiest of men? The best of men are but men at the best, and
they are convinced that they cannot tame their own turbulent
passions. God saith that the sea can be tamed with sand; but
the heart of man cannot be restrained, it is still revolting.
Dost thou think thou canst do that, which God saith is
impossible? Dost thou suppose thyself stronger than God
Almighty? What! canst thou change thine own heart, when God
declares that we must he born again from above, or else we
cannot see the kingdom of heaven? Others have tried to do it,
but they cannot. I beseech thee, do not try to do it with thine
own strength. I am glad thou knowest thy guilt; but O do not
increase that guilt, by seeking to wash it out in the foul
stream of thine own resolutions. Go and tell God that thou
knowest thy sin, and confess it before him, and ask him to
create in thee a clean heart, and renew in thee a right spirit.
Tell him thou knowest that thou art rebellious, and thou art
sure that thou always wilt be, unless he change thy heart; and
I beseech thee, rest not satisfied until thou hast a new heart.
My hearer, be not content with Baptism; be not content with the
Lord's Supper; be not content with shutting up your shop on
Sunday; be not content with leaving off drunkenness; be not
content with giving up swearing. Remember, you may do all that,
and be damned. It is a new heart and a right spirit you want;
begin with that, and when you have that, all the rest will come
right. Bethink thee, my hearer; thou mayest varnish and gild
thyself, but thou canst never change thyself. Thou mayest
moralise, but thou canst never spiritualise thy heart. But just
bethink thee. Thou art this morning lost; and just think of
this,<2C>thou canst do nothing whatever to save thyself. Let
that thought rise in thy soul, and lay thee very low; and when
thou goest to God, cry, "O Lord, do what I cannot do; save me,
O my God, for thy mercy's sake."
</p>
<p class="indent">
My dear hearers, have I spoken harshly to you, or wilt ye
rather take it in love? Ye who have sinned thus terribly
against God, do ye feel it? Well, I have no grace <i>to
offer</i> to thee, I have no Christ <i>to offer</i> to thee,
but I have Christ <i>to preach</i> to thee. Oh! what shall I
say? This:<3A>you are a sinner. "It is a faithful saying, and
worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the
world to save sinners, even the chief." Art thou a sinner? Then
he came to save thee. Oh! joyful sound. I am ready to leap in
the pulpit for very joy, to have this to preach to thee. I can
clap my hands with ecstacy of heart, that I am allowed again to
tell thee<65>"It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners." Let me tell you that when he came into this world he
was nailed to the cross, and that there he expired in desperate
griefs and agony; and there he shrieked, "My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me?" There the blood ran from his hands and
feet, and because he suffered he is able to forgive. Sinner,
dost thou believe that? Thou art black; dost thou believe, in
the face of thy blackness, that Christ's blood can make thee
white? What sayest thou, sinner? God has convinced thee of thy
sin; art thou willing to be saved in God's way this morning? If
thou art willing, thou shalt be saved. It is
written,<2C>"Whosoever will, let him come." Art thou thirsty
this morning? come hither and drink. Art thou hungry? come and
eat. Art thou dying? come and live. My Master bids me tell you,
all you who feel your sins, that you are forgiven; all you who
know your transgressions, he bids me tell you this:<3A>" I,
even I, am he that blotteth out your transgressions, for my
name's sake." Hast thou been an adulterer, hast thou been a
whore-monger, a thief, a drunkard, a Sabbath-breaker, a
swearer? I find no exception in this
proclamation;<3B>"Whosoever will, let him come." I find no
exception in this;<3B>"Him that cometh I will in nowise cast
out." Dost thou know thy guilt? then I do not ask thee what thy
guilt is. Though thou wert the vilest creature, again, I tell
thee, if thou knowest thy guilt, Christ will forgive thee.
Believe it, and thou art saved.
</p>
<p class="indent">
And now will ye go away and forget all this? Some of you have
wept this morning. No wonder; the wonder is that we do not all
weep, until we find ourselves saved! You will go away to-morrow
to your farms and to your merchandize, to your shops, and to
your offices; and the impression that may have been produced on
you this Sabbath morning will pass away like the morning cloud.
My hearers, I would not weep, though you should call me all the
names you can think of, but I wilt weep because you will not
weep for yourselves. Sinners, why will ye be damned? Is it a
pleasant thing to revolt in the flames of hell? Sirs, what
profit is there in your death! What! is it an honorable thing
to rebel against God? Is it an honor to stand and be the scorn
of God's universe? Dost thou say thou shalt not die; yet thou
wilt put it off a little while? Sinner, thou wilt never have a
more convenient season; if to-day is inconvenient, to-morrow
will be more so. Put it off to-day, wipe away the tears from
your eyes, and the day may come when you would give a million
worlds for a tear, but you shall not be able to get one. Many a
man has had a soft heart; it has passed away, and in after
years he has said, "Oh, that I could but shed a tear!" O God!
make thy word like a hammer this morning, that it may break the
rocky heart in pieces! Ye who know your sins, as God's
ambassador, I beseech you, "be ye reconciled unto God." "Kiss
the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his
wrath is kindled but a little." Remember, once lost, ye are
lost for ever; but if ye are once saved, ye are certainly saved
for ever. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved," said Paul of old; Jesus himself hath said "He that
believeth and is haptised shall be saved; but he that believeth
not shall be damned." I will not finish with a curse. "He that
believeth shall be saved." God give you all an interest in that
eternal blessing, for the Lord Jesus' sake!
</p>
<br>
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