159 lines
8.3 KiB
HTML
159 lines
8.3 KiB
HTML
|
|
<html>
|
|
<head>
|
|
<title>Blue Letter Bible: Text Commentaries</title>
|
|
<script src="../../../js/basepath.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<script src="./js/nav.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<script src="./js/MainHeader.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<script>
|
|
PriorSectionURL = './Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0221.html';
|
|
PriorSection = '';
|
|
NextSectionURL = './Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0222.html';
|
|
NextSection = '';
|
|
Title = 'A Pastoral Letter';
|
|
commTitle = 'The New Park Street Pulpit';
|
|
</script>
|
|
<script src="./js/Comms/CHS.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<h4 style="text-align: center">
|
|
This letter was written to accompany the publication of sermon
|
|
221 in the New Park Street Pulpit series—"Comfort
|
|
Proclaimed."<br>
|
|
</h4>
|
|
I AM a prisoner still. Weakness has succeeded pain, and languor
|
|
of mind is the distressing result of this prostration of my
|
|
physical powers. It is the Lord's doing. In some sense I might
|
|
say with Paul, "I am a prisoner of Jesus Christ." But ah! my
|
|
bonds are more easy and less honourable to wear than his. Instead
|
|
of a dungeon, my lot is cast in an abode of comfort. I am not
|
|
restrained from my accustomed ministry by a chain forged by man,
|
|
but by the silken cord of God's providence: no rough jailor, but
|
|
loving relatives and friends attend upon me in these tedious
|
|
hours of my bondage. I beseech you therefore, my beloved, let
|
|
your many prayers to God on my behalf be each and all mingled
|
|
with thanksgiving. Gratitude should ever be used in devotion,
|
|
like salt of old was in sacrifice, "without prescribing how
|
|
much."<br>
|
|
<br>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
And now, though unable to stand in the pulpit, I will endeavour
|
|
to give you a short address,—or rather, I will attempt to
|
|
express the kindlings of my heart in a few broken sentences.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
And first, to you my well-beloved and trusty brethren and
|
|
sisters in Christ, and in the family tie of church fellowship;
|
|
to you I tender my fondest regards, my sincerest thanks, my
|
|
sweetest love. I feel refreshed by your sympathy, and my heart
|
|
is overwhelmed at the estimation in which you hold me. It
|
|
brings the hot blush to my cheek, and well it may. Tenderly as
|
|
a husband thinks of the doting affection of his wife, as a
|
|
father receives the fond homage of his children, as a brother
|
|
when he is held in honour by all the family circle—so
|
|
tenderly, and even more tenderly, I remember your care of me.
|
|
The tone of your supplications during my affliction has been to
|
|
me beyond measure grateful. I rejoice that ye have with humble
|
|
submission kissed the rod; not impatiently asking my recovery,
|
|
but meekly acquiescing in the providence of our heavenly
|
|
Father, craving most of all that the lord would sanctify the
|
|
pains of your pastor, and guard with his own watchful eye the
|
|
flock. "Grace and peace be multiplied unto you, through the
|
|
knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
Yet again, in the still chamber of retirement, I anxiously
|
|
remember some who would have been ere this baptised on a
|
|
profession of their faith, and received into membership of the
|
|
church, had not my health been thus impaired. Be not fretful
|
|
concerning this delay: accept it as an ordained trial of your
|
|
patience. If a farmer has a field of corn severed by the sickle
|
|
from its native earth, but not yet housed in the garner, is he
|
|
not concerned lest he suffer loss? How much more, as a minister
|
|
of Christ, am I concerned for you—the converts God hath
|
|
given me. Oh, beloved! be stedfast. Commit not the great sin.
|
|
Beware lest Satan take advantage of you—for we are not
|
|
ignorant of his devices. Draw not back. It is written in the
|
|
law, "No devoted thing that a man shall devote unto the Lord of
|
|
all that he hath, shall be sold or redeemed; every devoted
|
|
thing is most holy unto the Lord." The Israelite might not
|
|
retract the beast that he dedicated from his fold for an
|
|
offering—far less the Christian, when he hath resolved so
|
|
yield up his heart, his life, his soul to Jesus. I speak not
|
|
thus to grieve you. Think not that my jealousy bodes a
|
|
suspicion, but rather that it betokens my love. "We are not of
|
|
them that draw back unto perdition; but of them that believe to
|
|
the saving of the soul." "My little children, these things I
|
|
write unto you that ye sin not."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
To those who have worshipped during the past two years in the
|
|
Surrey Music Hall,—the preacher's greetings and his love.
|
|
Ye have heard how the Prophet Samuel set up a stone and called
|
|
the name of it EBEN-EZER, saying, "Hitherto hath the Lord
|
|
helped us." That stone marked the place where the Lord gave the
|
|
children of Israel a great victory over the Philistines: but it
|
|
likewise marked the "very place where, twenty years before, the
|
|
Israelites were defeated, and the Ark of God was taken." Let us
|
|
rejoice, O my people, with trembling. Two years ago that Hall
|
|
was the scene of such discomfiture, such dire calamity and
|
|
death, as we hardly dare to think of. Sure that was the night
|
|
of my heart's bitterest anguish. "Howbeit our God turned the
|
|
curse into a blessing." For ninety-nine successive Lord's days
|
|
was I enabled to supply the pulpit; no congregation could have
|
|
been more evenly sustained; never were sermons more widely
|
|
echoed. God has owned these services to the quickening of many
|
|
souls, to the establishing of many in our most holy faith, and
|
|
by them through his goodness hath the Blessed Spirit stirred up
|
|
many of my brethren in the ministry to a righteous emulation.
|
|
"According to this time it shall be said, What hath God
|
|
wrought!" Ah, sirs! if ye knew in what fear we begun, and with
|
|
what anxiety we have continued—if ye knew the unrequited
|
|
exertions of those beloved brethren, whose names are unknown to
|
|
fame, but whose good offices were essential to keep the place
|
|
open—if ye knew, once more, how many a time your minister
|
|
has prostrated himself as a broken-hearted sinner before God to
|
|
renew his first vows of unreserved self-dedication—if ye
|
|
knew these things, ye would not be backward in that ascription
|
|
of praise never more meet to flow forth in liquid strains with
|
|
weeping eyes—"Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto
|
|
thy name give glory." My beloved brethren, "Be ye stedfast,
|
|
unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch
|
|
as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
Yet I have other friends. They are scattered far and wide
|
|
throughout this country, and the sister isles. To you let me
|
|
drop a word. Ye have received me kindly. Faster friendships
|
|
were never surely made in fewer hours than I have cemented with
|
|
some of you. Ye are of my kith and kin. I will take you to
|
|
record that my God hath graciously proportioned my strength to
|
|
my days, while I have been among you "in labours more
|
|
abundant." When I have laboured most for his glory, I have
|
|
feasted most on the provisions of his grace. And blessed be
|
|
God, when ofttimes called to visit a people heretofore unknown
|
|
to me, he hath given me the key of David, to unlock the secret
|
|
springs of your heart; nay rather, he holdeth the key in his
|
|
own hand; he openeth and no man can shut. Keep, beloved, the
|
|
word of his patience, and he will keep you from the hour of
|
|
temptation which shall come upon all the world to try them that
|
|
dwell upon the earth.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p class="indent">
|
|
Finally, my brethren, I am cheered and comforted beyond measure
|
|
by the joyous hope that on the coming Sabbath I shall again
|
|
appear among you. This prospect is as oil to my bones, and
|
|
although I cannot hope to fulfil my ministry with my wonted
|
|
vigour, yet to attempt to address you will be as a rich
|
|
medicine—as a tonic to my fluttering heart. Brethren, pray
|
|
for us.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p style="text-align:right">
|
|
Yours in covenant,<br>
|
|
C.H. SPURGEON<br>
|
|
</p>
|
|
November 2nd, 1858. <br>
|
|
<br>
|
|
</div></div>
|
|
<div class="return"><a href="#top">Return to Top</a></div>
|
|
<script src="./js/MainFooter.js" type="text/javascript"></script> |