645 lines
35 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/0064.html';
PriorSection = '';
NextSectionURL = './Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0066.html';
NextSection = '';
Title = 'Lions Lacking-but the Children Satisfied';
commTitle = 'The New Park Street Pulpit';
</script>
<script src="./js/Comms/CHS.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<h4 style="text-align: center">
A Sermon<br>
(No. 65)<br>
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 10, 1856, by the<br>
REV. C. H. SPURGEON<br>
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.<br>
On behalf of the Baptist Fund for the Relief of Poor
Ministers.<br>
</h4>
<p class="scripture">
"The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger; but they that seek
the Lord shall not want any good thing."— <a name=
"91"></a><a onClick="return mV('Psa', 34, 10);">Psa 34:10</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
RIGHT truly did Paul say, "Whereby he hath given unto us
exceeding great and precious promises;" for surely this promise
is exceeding great indeed. In the entire compass of God's holy
word, there is not to be found a precious declaration which can
excel this in sweetness; for how could God promise to use more
than all things? how could even <i>his</i> infinite benevolence
stretch the line of his grace farther than it hath gone in this
verse of the psalm?—"They that seek the Lord shall not
want any good thing." There is here no reserve; nothing is kept
back; there is no solitary word of exception. There is no
codicil in this will striking off the smallest portion of the
estate; there is no <i>caveat</i> put in to warn us that there
are domains upon which we must not intrude; a large field is
laid before the children of God; a wide door is open, and no
man can shut it. "They that seek the Lord shall not want <i>any
good thing</i>."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Now, we shall notice, first of all, <i>the Christian character
beautifully delineated</i>. "They that seek the Lord;'
secondly, we shall notice a promise set in a glorious light by
a contrast, "they shall not want any good thing," although the
young lions do lack and suffer hunger;" and thirdly, we shall
consider whether we cannot bring some <i>evidence to prove the
fulfilment of the promise</i>.
</p>
<p class="indent">
I. First, we have here a very short, but very beautiful
DESCRIPTION OF A TRUE CHRISTIAN: he is said to "seek the Lord."
"They that seek the Lord (Or Jehovah, as the original has it)
shall not want any good thing." Ah! beloved, if some of us had
the drawing up of this description we should have made it too
narrow. Possibly some of you might have said, "They that seek
the Lord in the established church, within the pale of the
state religion, shall not lack any good thing;" others might
have said, "They that seek the Lord in the orthodox Calvinistic
manner shall not lack any good thing;" and others might have
said, "They that seek the Lord in the Baptist fashion, or the
Methodist fashion, or some other, shall not lack any good
thing." But it is not written so. It is written, "They that
seek the Lord," in order that it may take in the Lord's people
of all classes and denominations, and all shades of character.
It is a description very brief, yet full and comprehensive,
including Christians in all stages and positions. Now let me
show you that the Christian, in whatever portion of his
spiritual history he may be, is one that seeks the Lord.
</p>
<p class="indent">
We commence with <i>conviction of sin</i>. That is where God
begins with us, and no man is a Christian unless the Holy
Spirit has revealed to him in his own entire helplessness, his
want of merit, and absence of power ever to accumulate merit in
the sight of God. Well, then, the man who is under a conviction
of sin, and feels his need of a Saviour—what is he doing?
What is his occupation, now that he is hungering and thirsting
after righteousness? Why, he is seeking the Lord. Ask him what
is his one want, and he will say, 'Christ is all my desire: I
rise early in the morning, and the first thought I have is, 'O
that I knew where I might find him?' I am in my business, and
my ejaculatory prayers go up to heaven like hands searching for
Jesus; and when I lie down again upon my bed, my heart says, 'I
seek him whom my soul loveth: I seek him, but I find him not.'"
Such a man will offer prayer. Why? Not because there is any
merit in it, not because he will be praised for it, but to seek
the Lord. He turns the pages of Scripture, not as he would a
book of philosophy, from curiosity, or for mere instruction,
but to seek the Lord. He has one passion, one desire—<i>to
seek the Lord</i>. For <i>that</i> he would barter his life,
and be content to have his name cancelled from the register of
men below, if he might but find the Lord Jesus, desiring above
everything to have his name recorded in some humble place in
the Lamb's book of life. Are you thus in the dim morn of
spiritual life seeking the Lord? Is he your one object of
pursuit? Rejoice then, and tremble not, for the promise is to
you in this earlier stage of your calling, when you are only
just struggling into being, "They that seek the Lord shall not
want any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But let us go a stage further on, when the Christian <i>has
found the Saviour</i>, and is justified, when he can say, in
those sweet words I so often repeat,
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Now, freed from sin I walk at large,<br>
My Jesu's blood's my full discharge."
</p>
<p>
You will find that he has not left off seeking the Lord. No; he
seeks now to know more of him; he seeks to understand more of
the heights and depths, and lengths, and breadths of the love
of Christ, which passeth knowledge. I ask any one here who has
an assurance that he is a pardoned man, thoroughly justified
and complete in Christ—are you not seeking the Lord? "Oh
yes," you say, "I thirst, I long to know more of him; I feel
that all I have ever known of him is like the whispering of the
sea in the shell, while the awful roar of the sea itself has
not yet reached mine ears. I have heard the whisperings of
Christ in some little mercy, and I have heard his bounties sing
of bottomless, eternal, unchangeable love; but oh! I long to
plunge into the sea itself, to bathe myself in the broad ocean
of his infinite generosity and love to me." No Christian ever
fancies that he knows enough of his Master; there is no
Christian who has found the Lord who does not desire to be
better acquainted with him. "Lord, I will follow thee
whithersoever thou goest," is the cry of the man who has had
his sins forgiven. He sitteth down at the feet of Jesus, and
looketh up to him, and saith, "Master, teach me more; I am a
little child; thou art a great instructor; oh! I long to love
and learn more of thee." He is ever seeking the Lord; and, in
this more advanced stage, the promise to him is, "They that
seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But go a little further on, when the Christian <i>has scarcely
ever a shadow of a doubt of his acceptance</i>; he has
progressed so far in spiritual life that he has attained to the
stature of a perfect man in Christ Jesus; his faith has become
so confident, that
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"His steady soul doth fear no more<br>
Than solid rocks when billows roar."
</p>
<p>
He can read his "title clear to mansions in the skies;" he has
climbed the Delectable Mountain; his feet are standing fast
upon a rock, and his goings are established; but even then he
is seeking the Lord. In the highest flights of his assurance,
on the topmost pinnacle of his faith, there is something yet
beyond. When he had sailed farthest into the sea of Acceptance,
there are Fortunate Isles that he hath not reached; there is an
<i>ultima thule</i>, a distant land, that he hath not yet seen.
He is still seeking the Lord; he feels that he has "not yet
attained;" he is still "pressing forward to the mark for the
prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." But then he
seeks the Lord in a different fashion; he seeks him that he may
put a crown on his head; he is not seeking him for mercy, but
to give him praise. Oh, that my heart could find thee! that all
its strings might sing sweet music to thee. Oh that my mouth
could find thine ear, and that I might bid it open and listen
to the whisper of my song. Oh that I knew where thou didst
dwell, that I might sing hard by the eaves of thy habitation,
and that thou mightest hear me ever—that I might
perpetually send the songs of my gratitude up to thy sacred
courts? I seek thee that I may break the alabaster box of
praise on thy dear sacred head. I seek thee that I may put my
soul upon the altar, and sacrifice my living self to thee. I
seek thee, that I may go where cherubim are singing, whom I
envy, because they
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"All night long unwearied sing<br>
High praises to the Eternal King."
</p>
<p>
I will seek thee in business, that there I may adorn the
doctrine of God my Saviour in all things. I will seek thee in
my songs that I may hymn thy praise. I will seek thee in my
musings, that I may magnify the Lord in my thoughts. I will
seek thee in my words, that my conversation may show forth thy
praise. I will seek thee in my gifts of benevolence, that I may
be like my Saviour. I will seek thee ever, for enough I have
attained to know that I am thine and thou art mine, though I
have nought else to ask of thee, seeing thou hast given me
thyself; though thou art
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh,<br>
My kinsman near allied by blood,"
</p>
<p>
though now my soul stands perfect in thee, and
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Not a shadow of a spot<br>
Can on my soul be found,"
</p>
<p>
yet still I will seek thee-seek to honor thee-seek to kiss
those blessed feet that bled for me—seek to worship that
dear "man who once on Calvary died," and put crowns of eternal
unfading honor upon his blessed, thorn-crowned, but now exalted
brow.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Then bring the Christian to the last period of life, to the
<i>brink of death</i>. Set him on those hoary rocks that skirt
the edge of Jordan; let him sit there, looking down at the dark
stream rolling rapidly below, not afraid to wade it, but rather
wishing to die that he may be with Jesus. Ask the old man what
he is doing, and he will answer, "Seeking the Lord." But I
thought thou hadst found him many a year, old man? "So I have,
but when I found him I sought him more; and I am seeking him
now—seeking him that I may be complete in him, at his
appearing; that I may be like him when I shall see him as he
is. I have sought to understand more of his love to me, and now
I do not know it all. I know as much as mortal can know; I am
living in the land of Beulah. See this bunch of spices; angel
hands have brought it to me, a present from my King; here are
tokens of his love, his mercy, and his grace. And dost not see
yonder the golden light of the celestial city? and didst not
hear just now the sweet singing of the angels?" "Nay, nay,"
saith the young man, "I hear them not." "But," the old man
replies, "I am on the edge of Jordan, and my ears are open,
whereas thine are dull, still I am doing what I have done all
my life-long—seeking the Lord, and till this pulse shall
cease its perpetual beating, I will still seek him, that dying,
I may clasp him in my arms, the antidote of death."
</p>
<p class="indent">
You will readily confess that this description of a Christian
is invariably correct. You may take the youngest child of
God—yon little boy ten years old, who has just been
baptized, and received into the church. Ask what he is doing?
"<i>Seeking the Lord</i>." Follow him till he becomes a
middle-aged man with all the cares of life about him. Ask what
he is doing then? Still he answers, "Seeking the Lord." Put a
few grey hairs upon his head, and let him know that half a
century has gone. Again, ask what he is doing? "Seeking the
Lord." Then make his head all frosty with the winters of old
age, and ask him the same question; and he will still reply,
"Seeking the Lord." Take away those hairs until the head is
entirely bald, and the man is trembling on the grave; what is
he doing then? "Seeking the Lord." Ay, as long as we are in
this body, whatever our position, or condition, this will ever
apply to us: "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good
thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But let us not leave this one point without asking you one
solemn question. Will you answer it? I beseech you to answer it
to yourselves. Are ye seeking the Lord? Nay; some of you there,
if you only can have your bottle of wine and your fowl, that
will satisfy you better than seeking the Lord. There is
another—give you health and strength and let you enjoy the
pleasures of this world, and that will be better to you than
seeking the Lord. There is another flying in the face of the
Almighty, cursing and swearing—you are not seeking the
Lord. Another is here this morning who once thought that he did
seek the Lord, but he has left off doing it now; he went away
from us because he was not of us, for, "if he had been of us,
he doubtless would have continued with us." There is a young
woman who thought she sought the Lord once, but she has gone
astray, she has backslidden, proving that after all that it was
mere excitement. Would God I could include you all in this
promise this morning; but can I, dare I, must I? No, I must
not. As the Lord liveth, if you are not seeking the Lord, the
devil is seeking <i>you</i>; if you are not seeking the Lord,
judgment is at your heels. Even now, the swift-winged angel of
justice is holding the torch before the fierce messenger of
vengeance who, with his naked dagger, is about to execute the
wrath of God upon your spirit. Ah! take no lease of your lives;
fancy not that you are to live for ever. If you have not sought
the Lord, as Jonathan Edwards said, "thou standest over the
mouth of hell upon a single plank, and that plank is rotten."
You are hanging over hell by a single rope, and all the strands
of the rope are creaking, snapping, breaking. Remember after
death, judgment; and after judgment, woe; and after woe,
nought; for woe, woe, woe, must be for ever. "The wrath to
come! The wrath to come! The wrath to come!" It needs a damned
spirit to start from the grave to preach to you, and let you
know something of it; but though one should rise from the grave
with all the scars of all his torments upon him, with his hair
all crisp by the hot fire of vengeance, his body scorched in
the flames which no abatement know, though he should tell you
with a tear at every word and a groan as a stop at every
sentence, and a deep sigh on every syllable, how horribly he
feels, how damnably he is tormented, still ye would not repent.
Therefore we will say little of it. May God the Holy Ghost seek
you, and then you will seek him, and you shall be turned from
darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God.
</p>
<p class="indent">
II. Now we come to THE PROMISE SET FORTH BY WAY OF CONTRAST.
"they shall not want any good thing:" that is the jewel. "The
young lions do lack and suffer hunger;" that is the foil to set
off the jewel and make it shine more brightly. "They shall not
want any good thing." I can hardly speak of that, for there is
too much to say. Did you never see a horse let into a wide
field where the grass grew so thickly, that he scarcely knew
where to begin to eat? If not, you have seen children taken
into the field where wild flowers grow; it is so full of them
in their liveries of white and yellow that the children know
not where to pluck first, they have so wide a choice. That is
how I feel when I have such a text as this: "They that seek the
Lord shall not want any good thing." We have heard of the
celebrated cheque for a million pounds which has been
preserved; here is one for millions of millions. Here is a
promise wide as our wants, large as our necessities, deep as
our distresses. There are some persons whose ambitious desires
are very much like the Slough of Despond, which, though the
king's labourers cast in thousands of tons of good material,
never could be filled up. But the Lord can fill them. However
bottomless our desires, however deep our wishes, however high
our aspirations, all things meet in this promise, "They that
seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
We take it concerning <i>things spiritual</i>. Are we wanting a
sense of pardon? We shall not want it long. Are we desiring
stronger faith? We shall not want it long. Do you wish to have
more love to your Saviour, to understand more concerning inward
communion with Jesus? You shall have it. "They that seek the
Lord shall not want any good thing." Do you desire to renounce
your sins, to be able to overcome this corruption or that? to
attain this virtue, or that excellency? "They that seek the
Lord shall not want any good thing." Is it adoption,
justification, sanctification, that thou wantest? "Thou shalt
not lack any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But are thy <i>wants temporal</i>? Dost thou want bread and
water? No, I know thou dost not, for it is said, "Bread shall
be given thee, and thy water shall be sure." Or, if thou dost
want it somewhat, it shall come before long; it shall not be to
starvation. David said, "I have been young and now am old; yet
have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging
bread." Do you want clothes? You shall have them. "He that
clothes the lilies of the valley, will he not much more clothe
you, O ye of little faith?" Do you need temporary supplies.
You, shall receive them, for "your heavenly Father knoweth that
ye have need of these things." Whatever your desire, there is
the promise, only go and plead it at the throne, and God will
fulfil it. We have no right to look for the fulfilment of the
promises unless we put the Promiser in mind of them, although
truly, at times, he exceeds our desires or wishes. He gives us
these promises as his notes of hand, his bills of exchange, and
if we do not take our notes to get them cashed at the throne it
is our fault, for the promise is just as good: "they that seek
the Lord shall not want any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But here is a contrast, and we will proceed to that at once.
"The young lions do lack and suffer hunger; but they that seek
the Lord shall not want any good thing." The old Psalter has
it: "<i>The rich</i> had need, and they hungered; but seekers
of the Lord shall not be lessed of all good." It appears that
there is only the difference of a very little mark in the
Hebrew between the words "mighty men" and "young lions." But it
is of very little consequence for, doubtless "the young lions"
are put by way of figure to denominate certain characters of
men who do "lack and suffer hunger."
</p>
<p class="indent">
There are certain men in the world who, like the lions, are
<i>kings over others</i>. The lion is lord of the forest, and
at his roar others tremble; so are there men who walk about
among us—noblemen, respectable, great,
honorable—persons who are had in reverence and esteem; and
they suppose, sometimes, because they are lions they are sure
never to have any spiritual hunger. They are great and mighty
men; they have no need of a Saviour. Are they not the elders of
the city? are they not mighty men of valour? are they not noble
and great! They are, moreover, so excellent in their own esteem
that their proper language seems to be when they come before
their Maker's bar: "Lord, I had not a very bad nature, and
wherein it was a little bad, I made the best of it! and wherein
I did not do quite as well as I ought, Jesus Christ will make
it up." Talk to these men about being depraved! "Rubbish!" they
say; they know better; their heart is pure enough. They have no
need of the Holy Spirit; they are young lions; you small mice
may want it, but not they indeed! They have no need of
another's righteousness to cover them; their old shaggy mane is
glory enough to them. But do you know these young lions "lack
and suffer hunger;" ay, even when we do not know anything about
it? They can play bombast before men, but they "lack and suffer
hunger" when they are alone. A suspicion often crosses their
minds that their righteousness is not good for much; they know
very well that while they can make a long prayer the poor
widow's house sticks in their throat; that while they boast of
their good works they are no better than they should be. You
may think, perhaps, like David, that "they are not plagued like
other men." But you don't know that. They are very often
plagued when they do not tell you. When they roar so loudly
their mane scarcely covers their bare ribs. "The young lions do
lack and suffer hunger;" but, blessed be God, "they that seek
the Lord shall not want any good thing." Poor and helpless
though they are, having no works of righteousness of their own,
confessing their sin and depravity, they shall want no good
thing. Is it not amazing? There is a poor sinner who has sinned
against God and in every way dishonored his name; yet he cannot
lack any good thing.
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Poor, helpless worms in Christ possess<br>
Grace, wisdom, peace, and righteousness."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again, by young lions we may understand <i>men of cunning</i>
and <i>men of wisdom</i>. The lion goeth out at night, and
prowleth silently through the jungle. It hath a keen scent, and
knoweth where to find its prey. It scenteth the fountain, and
knoweth that the antelope will go there to drink. When he
comes, the lion croucheth down, with wild eyes looks upon him,
and in a moment, ere the antelope is aware, he is in the fangs
of the lion. Men of cunning and wisdom—have you not seen
such? Have you not heard their boastful exclamation, "Submit
myself to a dogmatical preacher! No, sir, I will not. Believe
in the plenary inspiration of the Scriptures! I cannot believe
in any such absurdity. Sit at the feet of Jesus and learn of
him in the Scriptures! No, sir, I cannot. I like something to
discuss; I like an intellectual religion; I cannot believe
everything simply because God says it. I want to be allowed to
judge for myself. Am I not wise learned?" And when he sees us
in distress, sometimes he says, "Nonsense! you have no brains!
you, poor Calvinists must be bereft of your senses." And yet we
can show as many men of sense as they can, and we are not
afraid of them, however much they glory in their wisdom. But
sometimes the poor Christian is frightened by them; he cannot
answer their sophisms; he does not see his way through their
labyrinths, and cannot escape from their nets. Well, don't try
to escape from them. Let them talk on; the best answer is often
silence. But do you know that these young lions so gloriously
self-sufficient when in argument with you, in secrecy often
"lack and suffer hunger?" There was never an infidel in the
world that did not suffer spiritual hunger, though he might not
confess it. His creed did not satisfy him; there was a hollow
place, an aching void somewhere, which the world could never
fill. But "they that seek the Lord," who take the Scriptures
for their guide, who bow implicity to the words of Jehovah, "do
not lack any good thing." They feel no hollow unoccupied;
Christ has filled their hearts, and they are satisfied with his
presence and his love. "The young lions do lack, and suffer
hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not want any good
thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again, the young lions denote those who are <i>very strong</i>,
so that they hope to save themselves, <i>and very swift</i> in
their course of profession. Some are very fierce in the matter
of religion, very anxious to obtain salvation; and they are
very strong, so that they think it scorn to borrow strength of
another. Like the Jews, they follow after righteousness, but
they do not attain it because they seek it by the works of the
law. Have you never seen what they will do? There is a goodly
chapel they have built; they are engaged at six o'clock in the
morning at prayers, and repeat so many Ave Marias and
Pater-nosters; then comes the daily service, the mass, and all
that rubbish—the <i>messe</i>, as they call it in France,
and verily a mess it is; then they whip themselves, fetch blood
from their bodies, and perform all kinds of penances. Even
among Protestants, meritmongery is not quite gone by; for there
be many who are full of holy works, in which they are thursting
for salvation. The poor Christian says, "I cannot perform all
these works; I wish it were in my power to serve the Lord more
devoutly." But dost thou not know that these "young lions do
lack, and suffer hunger?" The formalist is never satisfied with
all his forms; the hypocrite is never contented; there is
always something he misses that makes his heart ache.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Then we may take it in a <i>temporal sense</i>. Young lions may
mean <i>deep cunning schemers</i>. Have you never seen men with
their thousand schemes and plans to make themselves rich, men
who can overreach others, who are so subtle that you cannot see
through them? Their instinct seems to be cunning. They are
always lying in wait to take advantage of others; they prowl
the world around, to seize on the helpless widow and the
defenceless orphan. Or, perhaps, they may be following more
legitimate schemes yet, such as are full of speculation and
will involve the exercise of all their wits. Surely such can
live if others stand. But no, they are just the men who "lack
and suffer hunger;" their schemes all prove futile; the arrow
which they shoot returneth on their own head and woundeth them.
But they who lie gently down in passive faith, singing
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p align="center">
"Father, I wait thy daily will;<br>
Thou shalt divide my portion still,<br>
Give me on earth what seems thee best,<br>
'Till death and heaven reveal the rest,"
</p>
<p>
do not lack any good thing.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again, by "young lions," we may understand "<i>rich
men</i>"—men who have abundance. We have known persons who
have ridden in fine carriages and dwelt in noble mansions,
brought to the depths of poverty. Every now and then we hear of
men, almost millionares, who are turned out into the very
streets. Kings have walked our soil without their crowns, and
nobles even now are living on our charity. Daughters of men in
high positions have to work as menials, and long sometimes to
be allowed to do that. The rich sometimes "lack, and suffer
hunger;" but they that wait on the Lord," poor as they may be,
"do not lack any good thing."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again, this may apply to you who earn your living by bodily
labour. Perhaps you are a weak and sickly man; you are not one
of the "young lions," like your neighbour, a strong big fellow,
who can earn his day's wages without the least difficulty. He
says to you, perhaps, "I shouldn't like to be such a poor lean
thing as you are. If you should be ill, what would become of
you? You trust in Providence, but I trust in my big arms. The
best providence is to take care of yourself—to go and eat
a good dinner, and keep yourself in trim." Nay, nay; have you
not seen those young lions, "lack and suffer hunger?" Our
missionary can tell of strong men whom he visits, who cannot
find employment, but are brought almost to starvation; while he
does not find that they that wait on the Lord lack any good
thing. Don't be afraid because you have a sick and weakly
frame; labour as hard as you can, and be sure, that if you wait
on the Lord you will not lack any good thing.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Once more, the lion is a creature that <i>overcomes and devours
all others</i>. We have some such in our society; you find them
everywhere. They put their hand upon you, and you feel you are
in a vice. They understand law better than you do: and woe be
to you if you make a mistake! won't they take advantage of you?
So in business they can always over-reach you; like sharks, if
they do not devour you altogether, they leave you minus a leg
or an arm. Yes, but you have seen these men, too, "lack and
suffer hunger." And amongst all the miserable miscreants that
walk the earth, there is none so destitute as the young lion
that lacks, and suffers hunger. He puts his money into a bag
full of holes; and methinks hell laughs at the covetous man, at
him who grasps his neighbour's wealth. "Ha! ha!" says the
devil, "damn thy soul to win—nothing! send thy soul to
hell to win—a dream! A thing which thou hadst, but is
gone; thou didst grasp it—it was a shadow! Sold thine
immortal spirit to win a bubble which burst in thy grasp."
Christian, do not be concerned about temporal things; trust in
God; for while "young lions do lack, and suffer hunger, they
that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing.
</p>
<p class="indent">
III. And now, I come to the third part, which is THE FULFILMENT
OF THE PROMISE. Time fails me, and I shall not try to prove to
you that God can in the ordinary course of his providence make
a distinction between the righteous and the wicked; that would
be an easy task. While God has the hearts of all men under his
control, he can make the rich give where he pleases; and he can
influence the church, and those that love the Lord, always to
take care of the Lord's poor. But I am going to state one or
two facts by way of stimulating you to assist me in the noble
enterprise of endeavouring to support the poor disabled
ministers of the everlasting gospel. Amongst the particular
Baptists we have a fund called the Baptists Fund. It was
instituted in 1717, in order to afford assistance to ministers
in England and Wales, who were in poverty and distress, in
consequence of the inability of their churches and
congregations to furnish them with a competent maintenance for
themselves and their families. During nearly a century and a
half, it has carried out, so far as its funds were sufficient,
the benevolent purposes for which it was established. It
publishes its accounts yearly; and from the last printed
statement for 1854-5, it appears that in that year, one hundred
and sixty-five cases were relieved in England, and sixty-five
in the Principality, by grants in money to the amount of
&pound;1,560, no one receiving a larger sum than &pound;10, and
no grant being in any case made where the minister's income
from every source exceed &pound;80. In addition to the money
grants, books also of the value together of &pound;155 have
been presented to thirty-five poor ministers unable to purchase
them. Towards raising the necessary funds to meet these cases,
collections are annually made in this and in number, character,
and circumstances of the objects to be relieved, and the
purpose for which the relief is afforded are considered, it
will be well understood that this is no ordinary collection. We
have the right of four votes, one for the pastor and three
messengers sent by us, owing to our fathers having in olden
times deposited &pound;150 by way of starting the fund, the
interest of which sum, and of that given by other churches, is
spent every year. Different legacies having been left by other
persons, a considerable sum has accumulated, and I believe the
yearly income is somewhere about &pound;2,000 at the present
time. We need, however, much more. I am not going to detain you
long by telling you about the fund, but I will read you one or
two letters from the recipients. The first is from an old
minister aged eighty.
</p>
<p class="indent">
[It is thought best not to print these, lest the worthy men who
wrote them should feel aggrieved.]
</p>
<p class="indent">
I think I need add nothing more to move you. There are many
poor ministers now, who, when they go up the pulpit stairs, are
obliged to hold their arms pretty close to their bodies lest
they should rend their coats to pieces; and I have seen them
with such coats on, as you would not like to put on if you were
going into the meanest chapel in London. I have myself found
livery for some of these holy men year by year, but one person
cannot supply the necessities of all. I know the case of a
preacher who walked to a chapel, within ten miles of this spot,
and preached in the morning, and walked back again; he also
preaching in the evening, and had to walk back to his house;
and what do you think the deacons gave him? The poor man had
nothing else to live upon, and he was nearly eighty years of
age. When he had finish (oh! don't hear it, ye angels! pray
shut up your ears) they gave him—<i>a shilling</i>! That
was for his day's work. Another brother told me some time ago
that he preached three sermons, walking eight miles and back
again and going dinnerless all the while; and the deacons gave
him the munificent sum of—half-a-crown! Oh! if you knew
all the circumstances connected with the fund, you would not
long restrain your benevolence. The funds are mostly given to
those who preach the gospel—gospel ministers of the best
sort, men who preach what we consider to be
gospel—Calvinistic sentiments. And the funds must always
be given in that way, for so the deed directs it. I bless God
for this society, and I ask you, under God, to take care of it,
that while "the young lions do lack, and suffer hunger," the
ministers of the Lord shall "not want any good thing."
</p>
</div></div>
<div class="return"><a href="#top">Return to Top</a></div>
<script src="./js/MainFooter.js" type="text/javascript"></script>