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<title>Blue Letter Bible: Text Commentaries</title>
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Title = 'The Exaltation of Christ';
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<h4 style="text-align: center">
A Sermon<br>
(No. 101)<br>
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, November 2, 1856, by the<br>
REV. C. H. SPURGEON<br>
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.<br>
</h4>
<p>NOTE: This sermon was Spurgeon's first message following
the disaster at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey
Gardens—in which seven people lost their lives when
some miscreants purposely started a panic while Mr.
Spurgeon was preaching.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p class="scripture">
"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a
name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and
things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the
Father."— <a onClick="return mV('Phl', 2, '9-11');">Phl 2:9-11</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
I ALMOST regret this morning that I have ventured to occupy
this pulpit, because I feel utterly unable to preach to you for
your profit. I had thought that the quiet and repose of the
last fortnight had removed the effects of that terrible
catastrophe; but on coming back to the same spot again, and
more especially, standing here to address you, I feel somewhat
of those same painful emotions which well-nigh prostrated me
before. You will therefore excuse me this morning, if I make no
allusion to that solemn event, or scarcely any. I could not
preach to you upon a subject that should be in the least allied
to it. I should be obliged to be silent if I should bring to my
remembrance that terrific scene in the midst of which it was my
solemn lot to stand. God shall overrule it doubtless. It may
not have been so much by <i>the malice</i> of men, as some have
asserted; it was perhaps simple wickedness—an intention to
disturb a congregation; but certainly with no thought of
committing so terrible a crime as that of the murder of those
unhappy creatures. God forgive those who were the instigators
of that horrid act! They have my forgiveness from the depths of
my soul. <i>It shall not stop us, however</i>; we are not in
the least degree daunted by it. I shall preach there again yet;
ay, and God shall give us souls there, and Satan's empire shall
tremble more than ever. "God is with us; who is he that shall
be against us?" The text I have selected is one that has
comforted me, and in a great measure, enabled me to come here
to-day—the single reflection upon it had such a power of
comfort on my depressed spirit. It is this:—"Wherefore God
also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is
above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should
bow, of things in heaven, and things on earth, and things under
the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus
Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."— <a name=
"133"></a><a onClick="return mV('Phl', 2, '9-11');">Phl 2:9-11</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
I shall not attempt to preach upon this text; I shall only make
a few remarks that have occurred to my own mind; for I could
not preach to-day; I have been utterly unable to study, but I
thought that even a few words might be acceptable to you this
morning, and I trust to your loving hearts to excuse them. Oh,
Spirit of God, magnify thy strength in thy servant's weakness,
and enable him to honour his Lord, even when his soul is cast
down within him.
</p>
<p class="indent">
WHEN the mind is intensely set upon one object, however much it
may by divers calamities be tossed to and fro, it invariably
returns to the place which it had chosen to be its dwelling
place. Ye have noticed in the case of David. When the battle
had been won by his warriors, they returned flushed with
victory. David's mind had doubtless suffered much perturbation
in the mean time; he had dreaded alike the effects of victory
and defeat; but have you not noticed how his mind in one moment
returned to the darling object of his affections? "Is the young
man Absalom safe?" said he, as if it mattered not what else had
occurred, it his beloved son were but secure! So, beloved, it
is with the Christian. In the midst of calamities, whether they
be the wreck of nations, the crash of empires, the heaving of
revolutions, or the scourge of war, the great question which he
asks himself, and asks of others too, is this—Is Christ's
kingdom safe? In his own personal afflictions his chief anxiety
is,—Will God be glorified, and will his honour be
increased by it? If it be so, says he, although I be but as
smoking flax, yet if the sun is not dimmed I will rejoice; and
though I be a bruised reed, if the pillars of the temple are
unbroken, what matters it that my reed is bruised? He finds it
sufficient consolation, in the midst of all the breaking in
pieces which he endures, to think that Christ's throne stands
fast and firm, and that though the earth hath rocked beneath
<i>his</i> feet, yet Christ standeth on a rock which never can
be moved. Some of these feelings, I think, have crossed our
minds. Amidst much tumult and divers rushings to and fro of
troublous thoughts our souls have returned to the darling
object of our desires, and we have found it no small
consolation after all to say, "It matters not what shall become
of us: God hath highly exalted <i>him</i>, and given <i>him</i>
a name which is above every name: That at the name of
<i>Jesus</i> every knee should bow."
</p>
<p class="indent">
This text has afforded sweet consolation to every heir of
heaven. Allow me, very briefly, to give you the consolations of
it. <i>To the true Christian there is much comfort in the very
fact of Christ's exaltation</i>. In the second place, <i>there
is no small degree of consolation in the reason of it</i>.
"<i>Wherefore</i>, also, God hath highly exalted him;" that is
because of his previous humiliation. And thirdly, there is no
small amount of really divine solace in the thought of <i>the
person who has exalted Christ</i>. Wherefore <i>God</i>
also"—although men despise him and cast him down—"God
also hath highly exalted him."
</p>
<p class="indent">
I. First, then, IN THE VERY FACT OF CHRIST'S EXALTATION THERE
IS TO EVERY TRUE CHRISTIAN A VERY LARGE DEGREE OF COMFORT. Many
of you who have no part nor lot in spiritual things, not having
love to Christ, nor any desire for his glory, will but laugh
when I say that this is a very bottle of cordial to the lip of
the weary Christian, that Christ, after all, is glorified. To
you it is no consolation, because you lack that condition of
heart which makes this text sweet to the soul. To you there is
nothing of joy in it; it does not stir your bosom; it gives no
sweetness to your life; for this very reason, that you are not
joined to Christ's cause, nor do you devoutly seek to honour
him. But the true Christian's heart leapeth for joy, even when
cast down by divers sorrows and temptations, at the remembrance
that Christ is exalted, for in that he finds enough to cheer
his own heart. Note here, beloved, that the Christian has
certain features in his character which make the exaltation of
Christ a matter of great joy to him. First, he has in his own
opinion, and not in his own opinion only, but in reality, a
<i>relationship to Christ</i>, and therefore he feels an
interest in the success of his kinsman. Ye have watched the
father's joy, when step by step his boy has climbed to opulence
or fame; ye have marked the mother's eye, as it sparkled with
delight when her daughter grew up to womanhood, and burst forth
in all the grandeur of beauty. Ye have asked why they should
feel such interest; and ye have been told, because the boy was
his, or the girl was hers. They delighted in the advancement of
their little ones, because of their relationship. Had there
been no relationship, they might have been advanced to kings,
emperors, or queens, and they would have felt but little
delight. But from the fact of kindred, each step was invested
with a deep and stirring interest. Now, it is so with this
Christian. He feels that Jesus Christ, the glorified "Prince of
the kings of the earth." is his brother. While he reverences
him as God, he admires him as the man-Christ, bone of his bone,
and flesh of his flesh, and he delights, in his calm and placid
moments of communion with Jesus, to say to him, "O Lord, thou
art my brother." His song is, "My beloved is mine, and I am
his." It is his joy to sing—
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"In the blood with sinners one,"
</p>
<p>
Christ Jesus is; for he is a man, even as we are: and he is no
less and no more man than we are, save only sin. Surely, when
we feel we are related to Christ, his exaltation is the source
of the greatest joy to our spirits; we take a delight in it,
seeing it is one of our family that is exalted. It is the Elder
Brother of the great one family of God in heaven and earth; it
is the Brother to whom all of us are related.
</p>
<p class="indent">
There is also in the Christian not only the feeling of
relationship merely, but there is a feeling of <i>unity in the
cause</i>. He feels that when Christ is exalted, it is himself
exalted in some degree, seeing he has sympathy with his desire
of promoting the great cause and honour of God in the world. I
have no doubt that every common soldier who stood by the side
of the Duke of Wellington felt honoured when the commander was
applauded for the victory; for, said he, "I helped him, I
assisted him; it was but a mean part that I played; I did but
maintain my rank; I did but sustain the enemy's fire; but now
the victory is gained. I feel an honour in it, for I helped, in
some degree, to gain it." So the Christian, when he sees his
Lord exalted, says, "It is the Captain that is exalted, and in
his exaltation all his soldiers share. Have I not stood by his
side? Little was the work I did, and poor the strength which I
possessed to serve him; but still I aided in the labour;" and
the commonest soldier in the spiritual ranks feels that he
himself is in some degree exalted when he reads
this—"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and
given him a name which is above every name:" a renown above
every name—"that at the name of Jesus every knee should
bow."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Moreover, the Christian knows not only that there is this unity
in design, but that there is <i>a real union</i> between Christ
and all his people. It is a doctrine of revelation seldom
descanted upon, but never too much thought of—the doctrine
that Christ and his members are all one. Know ye not, beloved,
that every member of Christ's church is a member of Christ
himself? We are "of his flesh and of his bones," parts of his
great mystical body; and when we read that our head is crowned,
O rejoice, ye members of his, his feet or his hands, though the
crown is not on you, yet being on your Head, you share the
glory, for you are one with him. See Christ yonder, sitting at
his Father's right hand! Believer! he is the pledge of thy
glorification; he is the surety of thine acceptance; and,
moreover, he is thy representative. The seat which Christ
possesses in heaven he has not only by his own right, as a
person of the Deity, but he has it also as the representative
of the whole church, for he is their forerunner, and he sits in
glory as the representative of every one of them. O rejoice,
believer, when thou seest thy Master exalted from the tomb,
when thou beholdest him exalted up to heaven. Then, when thou
seest him climb the steps of light, and sit upon his lofty
throne, where angels' ken can scarcely reach him—when thou
hearest the acclamations of a thousand seraphs—when thou
dost note the loud pealing choral symphony of millions of the
redeemed; think, when thou seest him crowned with
light—think that thou art exalted too in him, seeing that
thou art a part of himself. Happy art thou if thou knowest
this, not only in doctrine, but in sweet experience too. Knit
to Christ, wedded to him, grown into him, parts and portions of
his very self, we throb with the heart of the body; when the
head itself is glorified we share in the praise; we felt that
his glorification bestows an honour upon us. Ah! beloved, have
you ever felt that unity to Christ? Have you ever felt a unity
of desire with him? If so, you will find this rich with
comfort; but if not—if you know not Christ—it will be
a source of grief rather than a pleasure to you that he is
exalted, for you will have to reflect that he is exalted to
crush you, exalted to judge you and condemn you, exalted to
sweep this earth of its sins, and cut the curse up by the
roots, and you with it, unless you repent and turn unto God
with full purpose of heart.
</p>
<p class="indent">
There is yet another feeling, which I think is extremely
necessary to any very great enjoyment of this truth, that
Christ is exalted. It is a feeling of <i>entire surrender of
one's whole being to the great work of seeking to honour
him</i>. Oh! I have striven for that: would to God I might
attain unto it! I have now concentrated all my prayers into
one, and that one prayer is this, that I may die to self, and
live wholly to him. It seems to me to be the highest stage of
man—to have no wish, no thought, no desire but
Christ—to feel that to die were bliss, if it were for
Christ—that to live in penury and woe, and scorn, and
contempt, and misery, were sweet for Christ—to feel that
it did not matter what became of one's self, so that one's
Master was but exalted—to feel that though, like a sear
leaf, you are blown in the blast, you are quite careless
whither you are going, so long as you feel that the Master's
hand is guiding you according to his will. Or rather to feel
that though like the diamond you must be cut, that you care not
how sharply you may be cut, so that you may be made fit to be a
brilliant in <i>his</i> crown; that you care little what may be
done to you, if you may but honour <i>him</i>. If any of you
have attained to that sweet feeling of self-annihilation, you
will look up to Christ as if he were the sun, and you will say
of yourself, "O Lord, I see thy beams; I feel myself to be not
a beam from thee—but darkness, swallowed up in thy light.
The most I ask is, that thou wouldst live in me, that the life
I live in the flesh may not be my life, but thy life in me,
that I may say with emphasis, as Paul did, 'For me to live is
Christ.'" A man that has attained to this, never need care what
is the opinion of this world. He may say, "Do you praise me? Do
you flatter me? Take back your flatteries: I ask them not at
your hands; I sought to praise my Master; ye have laid the
praises at my door; go, lay them at <i>his</i>, and not at
mine. Do ye scorn me? Do ye despise me? Thrice happy am I to
bear it. If ye will not scorn and despise <i>him</i>!" And if
ye will, yet know this, that he is beyond your scorn; and,
therefore, smite the soldier for his Captain's sake; ay,
strike, strike; but the King ye cannot touch—he is highly
exalted—and thou ye think ye have gotten the victory, ye
may have routed one soldier of the army, but the main body is
triumphant. One soldier seems to be smitten to the dust, but
the Captain is coming on with his victorious cohorts, and shall
trample you, flushed with your false victory, beneath his
conquering feet. As long as there is a particle of selfishness
remaining in us, it will mar our sweet rejoicing in Christ;
till we get rid of it, we shall never feel constant joy. I do
think that the root of sorrow is self. If we once got rid of
that, sorrow would be sweet, sickness would be health, sadness
would be joy, penury would be wealth, so far as our feelings
with regard to them are concerned. <i>They</i> might not be
changed, but <i>our feelings</i> under them would be vastly
different. If you would seek happiness, seek it at the roots of
your selfishness; cut up your selfishness, and you will be
happy. I have found that whenever I have yielded to the least
joy when I have been prepared to feel acutely the arrows of the
enemy; but when I have said of the praises of men, "Yes, what
are ye? worthless things!"—then I could also say of their
contempt—"Come on! come on! I'll send you all where I sent
the praises; you may go together, and fight your battles with
one another; but as for me, let your arrows rattle on my
mail—they must not, and they shall not, reach my flesh."
But if you give way to one you will to another. You must seek
and learn to live wholly in Christ—to sorrow when you see
<i>Christ</i> maligned and dishonoured, to rejoice when you see
<i>him</i> exalted, and then you will have constant cause for
joy. Sit down now, O reviled one, poor, despised, and tempted
one; sit down, lift up thine eyes, see him on his throne, and
say within thyself, "Little though I be, I know I am united to
him; he is my love, my life, my joy; I care not what happens so
long as it is written, 'The Lord reigneth.'"
</p>
<p class="indent">
II. Now, briefly upon the second point. Here also is the very
fountain and well-spring of joy, in THE REASON OF CHRIST'S
EXALTATION. "Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him." Why?
Because, "he being in the form of God, thought it not robbery
to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and
took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the
likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he
humbled himself, and because obedient unto death, even the
death of the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted
him." This of course relates to the manhood of our Lord Jesus
Christ. As God, Christ needed no exaltation; he was higher than
the highest, "God over all, blessed for ever." But the symbols
of his glory having been for a while obscured, having wrapped
his Godhead in mortal flesh, his flesh with his Godhead
ascended up on high, and the man-God, Christ Jesus, who had
stooped to shame, and sorrow, and degradation, was highly
exalted, "far above all principalities and powers," that he
might reign Prince-regent over all worlds, yea, over heaven
itself. Let us consider, for a moment, that depth of
degradation to which Christ descended; and then, my beloved, it
will give you joy to think, that for that very reason his
manhood was highly exalted. Do you see that man—
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"The humble Man before his foes,<br>
The weary Man and full of woes?"
</p>
<p>
Do you mark him as he speaks? Note the marvellous eloquence
which pours from his lips, and see how the crowds attend him?
But do you hear, in the distance, the growling of the thunders
of calumny and scorn? Listen to the words of his accusers. They
say he is "a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber, a friend of
publicans and sinners;" "he has a devil, and is mad." All the
whole vocabulary of abuse is exhausted by vituperation upon
him. He is slandered, abused, persecuted! Stop! Do you think
that he is by this cast down, by this degraded? No, for this
very reason: "<i>God hath highly exalted him</i>." Mark the
shame and spitting that have come upon the cheek of yonder man
of sorrows! See his hair plucked with cruel hands; mark ye how
they torture him and how they mock him. Do you think that this
is all dishonourable to Christ? It is apparently so; but list
to this: "He became obedient," and therefore "<i>God hath
highly exalted him</i>." Ah! there is a marvellous connection
between that shame, and spitting, and the bending of the knee
of seraphs; there is a strange yet mystic link which unites the
calumny and the slander with the choral sympathies of adoring
angels. The one was, as it were, the seed of the other. Strange
that it should be, but the black, the bitter seed brought forth
a sweet and glorious flower which blooms for ever. He suffered
and he reigned; he stopped to conquer, and he conquered for he
stooped, and was exalted for he conquered.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Consider him further still. Do you mark him in your imagination
nailed to yonder cross! O eyes! ye are full of pity, with tears
standing thick! Oh! how I mark the floods gushing down his
cheeks! Do you see his hands bleeding, and his feet too,
gushing gore? Behold him! The bulls of Bashan gird him round,
and the dogs are hounding him to death! Hear him! "Eloi, Eloi,
lama sabachthani?" The earth startles with affright. A God is
groaning on a cross! What! Does not this dishonour Christ? No;
it honours him! Each of the thorns becomes a brilliant in his
diadem of glory; the nails are forged into his sceptre, and his
wounds do clothe him with the purple of empire. The treading of
the wine-press hath stained his garments, but not with stains
of scorn and dishonour. The stains are embroideries upon his
royal robes for ever. The treading of that wine-press hath made
his garments purple with the empire of a world; and he is the
Master of a universe for ever. O Christian! sit down and
consider that thy Master did not mount from earth's mountains
into heaven, but from her valleys. It was not from heights of
bliss on earth that he strode to bliss eternal, but from depths
of woe he mounted up to glory. Oh! what a stride was that,
when, at one mighty step from the grave to the throne of The
Highest, the man Christ, the God, did gloriously ascend. And
yet reflect! He in some way, mysterious yet true, was exalted
because he suffered. "Being found in fashion as a man, he
humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death
of the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and
given him a name which is above every name." Believer, there is
comfort for thee here, if thou wilt take it. If Christ was
exalted through his degradation, so shalt thou be. Count not
thy steps to triumph by thy steps upward, but by those which
are seemingly downward. The way to heaven is down-hill. he who
would be honoured for ever must sink in his own esteem, and
often in that of his fellow-men. Oh! think not of yon fool who
is mounting to heaven by his own light opinions of himself and
by the flatteries of his fellows, that he shall safely reach
Paradise; nay, that shall burst on which he rests, and he shall
fall and be broken in pieces. But he who descends into the
mines of suffering, shall find unbounded riches there; and he
who dives into the depths of grief, shall find the pearl of
everlasting life within tis caverns. Recollect, Christian, that
thou art exalted when thou art disgraced; read the slanders of
thine enemies as the plaudits of the just; count that the scoff
and jeer of wicked men are equal to the praise and honour of
the godly; their blame is censure, and their censure praise.
Reckon too, if thy body should ever be exposed to persecution,
that it is no shame to thee, but the reverse; and if thou
shouldst be privileged, (and thou mayest) to wear the blood-red
crown of martyrdom, count it no disgrace to die. Remember, the
most honourable in the church are "the noble army of martyrs."
Reckon that the greater the sufferings they endured, so much
the greater is their "eternal weight of glory;" and so do thou,
if thou standest in the brunt and thick of the fight, remember
that thou shalt stand in the midst of glory. If thou hast the
hardest to bear, thou shalt have the sweetest to enjoy. On with
thee, then—through floods, through fire, through death,
through hell, if it should lie in thy path. Fear not. He who
glorified Christ because he stooped shall glorify thee; for
after he has caused thee to endure awhile, he will give thee "a
crown of life which fadeth now away."
</p>
<p class="indent">
III. And now, in the last place, beloved, here is yet another
comfort for you. THE PERSON who exalted Christ is to be
noticed. "GOD also hath highly exalted him." The emperor of all
the Russians crowns himself: he is an autocrat, and puts the
crown upon his own head: but Christ hath no such foolish pride.
Christ did not crown himself. "GOD also hath highly exalted
him." The crown was put upon the head of Christ by God; and
there is to me a very sweet reflection in this,—that the
hand that put the crown on Christ's head, will one day put the
crown on ours;—that the same Mighty One who crowned
Christ, "King of kings, and Lord of lords," will crown us, when
he shall make us "Kings and priests unto him for ever." "I
know," said Paul, "there is laid up for me a crown of glory
which fadeth not away, which God, the righteous judge, shall
give me in that day."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Now, just pause over this thought—that Christ did not
crown himself, but that his Father crowned him; that he did not
elevate himself to the throne of majesty, but that his Father
lifted him there, and placed him on his throne. Why, reflect
thus: Man never highly exalted Christ. Put this then in
opposition to it—"<i>God</i> also hath highly exalted
him." Man hissed him, mocked him, hooted him. Words were not
hard enough—they would use stones. "They took up stones
again to stone him." And stones failed; nails must be used, and
he must be crucified. And then there comes the taunt, the jeer,
the mockery, whilst he hangs languishing on the death-cross.
Man did not exalt him. Set the black picture there. Now put
this, with this glorious, this bright scene, side by side with
it, and one shall be a foil to the other. <i>Man</i>
dishonoured him; "<i>God</i> also exalted him." Believer, if
all men speak ill of thee, lift up thy head, and say, "Man
exalted not my Master; I thank him that he exalts not me. The
servant should not be above his master, nor the servant above
his lord, nor he that is sent greater than he that sent him."
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"If on my face for his dear name,<br>
Shame and reproach shall be;<br>
I'll hail reproach and welcome shame,<br>
For he'll remember me."
</p>
<p>
God will remember me, and highly exalt me after all, though man
casts me down.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Put it, again, in opposition to the fact, that Christ did not
exalt himself. Poor Christian! <i>you</i> feel that you cannot
exalt yourself. Sometimes you cannot raise your poor depressed
spirits. Some say to you, "Oh! you should not feel like this."
They tell you, "Oh! you should not speak such words, nor think
such thoughts." Ah! "the heart knoweth its own bitterness, and
a stranger intermeddleth not therewith,"—ay, and I will
improve upon it, "nor a friend either." It is not easy to tell
how another ought to feel and how another ought to act. Our
minds are differently made, each in its own mould, which mould
is broken afterwards, and there shall never be another like it.
We are all different, each one of us; but I am sure there is
one thing in which we are all brought to unite in times of deep
sorrow, namely, in a sense of helplessness. We feel that we
cannot exalt ourselves. Now remember, our Master felt just like
it. In the 22nd Psalm, which, if I read it rightly, is a
beautiful soliloquy of Christ upon the cross, he says to
himself, "I am a worm, and no man." As if he felt himself so
broken, so cast down, that instead of being more than a man, as
he was, he felt for awhile less than man. And yet, when he
could not lift finger to crown himself, when he could scarce
heave a thought of victory, when his eye could not flash with
even a distant glimpse of triumph,—then his God was
crowning him. Art thou so broken in pieces, Christian? Think
not that thou art cast away for ever; for "God also hath highly
exalted him" who did not exalt himself; and this is a picture
and prophecy of what he will do for thee.
</p>
<p class="indent">
And now, beloved, I can say little more upon this text, save
that I bid you now for a minutes meditate and think upon it.
Oh! let your eyes be lifted up; bid heaven's blue veil divide;
ask power of God—I mean spiritual power from on high, to
look within the veil. I bid you not look to the streets of
gold, nor to the walls of jasper, nor to the pearly-gated city.
I do not ask you to turn your eyes to the white-robed hosts,
who for ever sing loud hallelujahs; but yonder, my friends,
turn your eyes,
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"There, like a man, the Saviour sits;<br>
The God, how bright he shines;<br>
And scatters infinite delight<br>
On all the happy minds."
</p>
<p>
Do you see him?
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"The head that once was crowned with thorns,<br>
Is crowned with glory now;<br>
A royal diadem adorns<br>
That mighty Victor's brow.
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
No more the bloody crown,<br>
The cross and nails no more:<br>
For hell itself shakes at his frown,<br>
And all the heavens adore."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Look at him! Can your imagination picture him? Behold his
transcendent glory! The majesty of kings is swallowed up; the
pomp of empires dissolves like the white mist of the morning
before the sun; the brightness of assembled armies is eclipsed.
He in himself is brighter than the sun, more terrible than
armies with banners. See him! See him! O! hide your heads, ye
monarchs; put away your gaudy pageantry, ye lords of this poor
narrow earth! His kingdom knows no bounds; without a limit his
vast empire stretches out itself. Above him all is his; beneath
him many a step are angels, and they are his; and they cast
their crowns before his feet. With them stand his elect and
ransomed, and <i>their</i> crowns too are his. And here upon
this lower earth stand his saints, and they are his, and they
adore him; and under the earth, among the infernals, where
devils growl their malice, even there is trembling and
adoration; and where lost spirits, with wailing and gnashing of
teeth for ever lament their being, even there, there is the
acknowledgment of his Godhead, even though the confession helps
to make the fire of their torments. In heaven, in earth, in
hell, all knees bend before him, and every tongue confesses
that he is God. If not now, yet in the time that is to come
this shall be carried out, that ever creature of God's making
shall acknowledge his Son to be "God over all, blessed for
ever. Amen." Oh! my soul anticipates that blessed day, when
this whole earth shall bend its knee before its God willingly!
I do believe there is a happy era coming, when there shall not
be one knee unbent before my Lord and Master. I look for that
time, that latter-day glory, when kings shall bring presents,
when queens shall be the nursing mothers of the church, when
the gold of Sheba and the ships of Tarshish, and the
dromedaries of Arabia shall alike be his, when nations and
tribes of every tongue shall
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Dwell on his name with sweetest song,<br>
And infant voices shall proclaim<br>
Their early blessings on his name."
</p>
<p>
Sometimes I hope to live to see that all-auspicious
era—that halcyon age of this world, so much oppressed with
grief and sorrow by the tyranny of its own habitants. I hope to
see the time, when it shall be said, "Shout, for the great
Shepherd reigns, and his unsuffering kingdom now is
come"—when earth shall be one great orchestra of praise,
and every man shall sing the glorious hallelujah anthem of the
King of kings. But even now, while waiting for that era, my
soul rejoices in the fact, that every knee does virtually bow,
though not willingly, yet really. Does the scoffer, when he
mouths high heaven, think that he insults God? He thinks so,
but his insult dies long ere it reaches half-way to the stars.
Does he conceive, when in his malice he forges a sword against
Christ, that his weapon shall prosper? If he does, I can well
conceive the derision of God, when he sees the wildest rebel,
the most abandoned despiser, still working out his great
decrees, still doing that which God hath eternally ordained,
and in the midst of his wild rebellion still running in the
very track which in some mysterious way before all eternity had
been marked as the track in which that being should certainly
move. "The wild steeds of earth have broken their bridles, the
reins are out of the hands of the charioteer"—so some say;
but they are not, or if they are, the steeds run the same round
as they would have done had the Almighty grasped the reins
still. The world has not gone to confusion; chance is not God;
God is still Master, and let men do what they will, and hate
the truth we now prize, they shall after all do what God wills,
and their direst rebellion shall prove but a species of
obedience, though they know it not.
</p>
<p class="indent">
But thou wilt say, "Why dost thou yet find fault; for who hath
resisted such a will as that?" "Nay, but O man, who art thou
that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him
that formed it, why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter
power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto
honour, and another unto dishonour? What if God, willing to
show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much
longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction: and
that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels
of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory." Who is he
that shall blame him? Woe unto him that striveth with his
Maker! He is God—know that, ye inhabitants of the land;
and all things, after all, shall serve his will. I like what
Luther says in his bold hymn, where, notwithstanding all that
those who are haters of predestination choose to affirm, he
knew and boldly declared, "He everywhere hath sway, and all
things serve his might." Notwithstanding all they do, there is
God's sway, after all. Go on, reviler! God knoweth how to make
all thy revilings into songs! Go on, thou warrior against God,
if thou wilt; know this, thy sword shall help to magnify God,
and carve out glory for Christ, when thou thoughtest the
slaughter of his church. It shall come to pass that all thou
dost shall be frustrated; for God maketh the diviners mad, and
saith, "Where is the wisdom of the scribe? Where is the wisdom
of the wise?" Surely, "Him hath God exalted, and given him a
name which is above every name."
</p>
<p class="indent">
And now, lastly, beloved, if it be true, as it is, that Christ
is so exalted that he is to have a name above every name, and
every knee is to bow to him, will we not bow our knees this
morning before his Majesty? You must, whether you will or no,
one day bow your knee. O iron-sinewed sinner, bow thy knee now!
Thou wilt have to bow it, man, in that day when the lightnings
shall be loosed, and the thunders shall roll in wild fury: thou
wilt have to bow thy knee then. Oh! bow it now! "Kiss the Son,
lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is
kindled but a little." O Lord of hosts! bend the knees of men!
Make us all the willing subjects of thy grace, lest afterward,
we should be the unwilling slaves of thy terror; dragged with
chains of vengeance down to hell. O that now those that are on
earth might willingly bend their knees lest in hell it should
be fulfilled, "Things under the earth shall bow the knee before
him."
</p>
<p class="indent">
God bless you, my friends, I can say no more but that. God
bless you, for Jesus' sake! Amen.
</p>
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