A Sermon
(No. 14)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, March 18, 1855, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
At Exeter Hall, Strand.
"For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world; and this is the
victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."–1 John 5:4.
THE epistles of John are perfumed with love. The word is continually
occurring. while the Spirit enters into every sentence. Each letter is
thoroughly soaked and impregnated with this heavenly honey. If he
speaks of God, his name must be love; are the brethren mentioned, he
loves them; and even of the world itself, he writes, "God so loved the
world, that he gave his only begotten Son." From the opening to the
conclusion, love is the manner, love the matter, love the motive, and
love the aim. We stand, therefore, not a little astonished, to find
such martial words in so peaceful a writing; for I hear a sound of war.
It is not the voice of love, surely, that says," He that is born of God
overcometh the world." Lo, here are strife and battle. The word
"overcometh" seems to have in it something of the sword and warfare; of
strife and contention; of agony and wrestling; so unlike the love which
is smooth and gentle, which hath no harsh words within its lips; whose
mouth is lined with velvet; whose words are softer than butter; whose
utterances are more easily flowing than oil. Here we have war–war to
the knife; for I read "Whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world;"
strife until death; battle throughout life; fighting with a certainty
of victory. How is it that the same gospel which always speaks of
peace, here proclaims a warfare? How can it be? Simply because there is
something in the world which is antagonistic to love; there are
principles abroad which cannot bear light, and, therefore, before light
can come, it must chase the darkness. Ere summer reigns, you know, it
has to do battle with old winter, and to send it howling away in the
winds of March, and shedding its tears in April showers. So also,
before any great or good thing can have the mastery of this world, it
must do battle for it. Satan has seated him self on his blood-stained
throne, and who shall get him down, except by main force, and fight and
war? Darkness broods o'er the nations; nor can the sun establish his
empire of light until he has pierced night with the arrowy sunbeams,
and made it flee away. Hence we read in the Bible that Christ did not
come to send peace on earth, but a sword; he came to set "the father
against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the
daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law
against her daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her
mother-in-law;" not intentionally, but as a means to an end; because
there must always be a struggle ere truth and righteousness can reign.
Alas! for that earth is the battle-field where good must combat with
evil Angels look on and hold their breath, burning to mingle in the
conflict, but the troops of the Captain of Salvation may be none but
the soldiers of the cross; and that slender band must fight alone, and
yet shall triumph gloriously. Enough shall they be for conquest, and
the motto of their standard is ENOUGH. Enough by the arm of the helping
Trinity.
As God shall help me, I shall speak to you of three things to be found
in the text. First, the text speaks of a great victory: it says, "This
is the victory." Secondly, it mentions a great birth: "Whatsoever is
born of God." And, thirdly, it extols a great grace, whereby we
overcome the world, "even our faith."
I. First, the text speaks of a GREAT VICTORY–the victory of
victories–the greatest of all. We know there have been great battles
where nations have met in strife, and one has overcome the other; but
who has read of a victory that over came the world? Some will say that
Alexander was its conqueror; but I answer, nay. He was himself the
vanquished man, even when all things were in his possession. He fought
for the world, and won it; and then mark how it mastered its master,
conquered its conquerer, and lashed the monarch who had been its
scourge. See the royal youth weeping, and stretching out his hands with
idiotic cries, for another world which he might ravage. He seemed, in
outward show, to have overcome old earth; but, in reality, within his
inmost soul, the earth had conquered him, had overwhelmed him, had
wrapped him in the dream of ambition, girdled him with the chains of
covetousness, so that when he had all, he was still dissatisfied; and,
like a poor slave, was dragged on at the chariot wheels of the world,
crying, moaning, lamenting, because he could not win another. Who is
the man that ever overcame the world? Let him stand forward: he is a
Triton among the minnows; he shall outshine Cæsar; he shall outmatch
even our own lately departed Wellington, if he can say he has overcome
the world. It is so rare a thing, a victory so prodigious, a conquest
so tremendous, that he who can claim to have won it may walk among his
fellows, like Saul, with head and shoulders far above them. He shall
command our respect; his very presence shall awe us into reverence; his
speech shall persuade us to obedience; and, yielding honour to whom
honour is due, we'll say when we listen to his voice, "Tis even as if
an angel shook his wings."
I shall now attempt to expand the idea I have suggested, showing you in
what varied senses the Christian overcomes the world. A tough battle,
sirs, I warrant you: not one which carpet knights might win: no easy
skirmish that he might win, who dashed to battle on some sunshiny day,
looked at the host, then turned his courser's rein, and daintily
dismounted at the door of his silken tent–not one which he shall gain,
who, hut a raw recruit to-day, puts on his regimentals, and foolishly
imagines that one week of service will ensure a crown of glory. Nay,
sirs, it is a life-long war–a fight needing the power of all these
muscles, and this strong heart; a contest which shall want all our
strength, if we are to be triumphant; and if we do come off more than
conquerors, it shall be said of us, as Hart said of Jesus Christ: "He
had strength enough and none to spare;" a battle at which the stoutest
heart might quail; a fight at which the braves might shake, if he did
not remember that the Lord is on his side, and therefore, whom shall he
fear? He is the strength of his life; of whom shall he be afraid? This
fight with the world is not one of main force, or physical might; if it
were, we might soon win it; but it is all the more dangerous from the
fact that it is a strife of mind, a contest of heart, a struggle of the
spirit, a strife of the soul. When we overcome the world in one
fashion, we have not half done our work; for the world is a Proteus,
changing its shape continually; like the chameleon, it hath all the
colours of the rainbow; and when you have worsted the world in one
shape, it will attack you in another. Until you die, you will always
have fresh appearances of the world to wrestle with. Let me just
mention some of the forms in which the Christian overcomes the world.
I. He overcomes the world when it sets up itself as a legislator,
wishing to teach him customs. You know the world has its old massive
law book of customs, and he who does not choose to go according to the
fashion of the world, is under the ban of society. Most of you do just
as everybody else does, and that is enough for you. If you see
so-and-so do a dishonest thing in business, it is sufficient for you
that everybody does it. If ye see that the majority of mankind have
certain habits, ye succomb, ye yield. Ye think, I suppose, that to
march to hell in crowds, will help to diminish the fierce heat of the
burning of the bottomless pit, instead of remembering that the more
faggots the fiercer will be the flame. Men usually swim with the stream
like a dead fish; it is only the living fish that goes against it. It
is only the Christian who despises customs, who does not care for
conventionalisms, who only asks himself the question, "Is it right or
is it wrong? If it is right, I will be singular. If there is not
another man in this world who will do it, I will do it; should a
universal hiss go up to heaven, I will do it still; should the very
stories of earth fly up, arid stone me to death, I will do it still;
though they bind me to the stake, yet I must do it; I will be
singularly right; if the multitude will not follow me, I will go
without them, I will be glad if they will all go and do right as well,
but if not, I will despise their customs; I care not what others do; I
shall not be weighed by other men; to my own Master I stand or fall.
Thus I conquer and overcome the customs of the world." Fair world! she
dresseth herself in ermine, she putteth on the robes of a judge, and
she solemnly telleth you, "Man, you are wrong. Look at your fellows;
see how they do. Behold my laws. For hundreds of years have not men
done so? Who are you, to set yourself up against me?" And she pulls out
her worm-eaten law-book, and turning over the musty pages, says, "See,
here is an act passed in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, and here is
another law enacted in the days of Pharaoh. These must be right,
because antiquity has enrolled them among her standard authorities. Do
you mean to set yourself up and stand against the opinions of the
multitude?" Yes, we do; we take the law-book of the world, and we burn
it, as the Ephesians did their magic rolls; we take her deeds, and make
them into waste paper; we rend her proclamation from the walls; we care
not what others do; custom to us is a cobweb; we count it folly to be
singular; but when to be singular is to be right, we count it the
proudest wisdom; we overcome the world; we trample on her customs; we
walk as a distinct people, a separate race, a chosen generation, a
peculiar people. The Christian behaves in his dealings not as the
laughing infidel insinuates, when he sneeringly describes Mawworm, as
saying, "Boy, have you sanded the sugar?" "Yes, sir." "Have you put the
sloe-leaves in the tea?" "Yes, sir." "Have you put red lead in the
pepper?" "Yes, sir." "Then come to prayers." Christians do not do so;
they say, "We know better; we cannot conform to the customs of the
world. If we pray, we will also act, or else we are hypocrites,
confounded hypocrites. If we go to the house of God, and profess to
love him, we love him every. where; we take our religion with us into
the shop, behind the counter; into our offices; we must have it
everywhere, or else God knows it is not religion at all." Ye must stand
up, then, against the customs of mankind. Albeit, this may be a
three-million peopled city, ye are to come out and be separate, if ye
would overcome the world.
2. We rebel against the world's customs. And if we do so, what is the
conduct of our enemy? She changes her aspect. "That man is a heretic;
that man is a fanatic; he is a cant, he is a hypocrite," says the world
directly. She grasps her sword, she putteth frowns upon her brow, she
scowleth like a demon, she girdeth tempests round about her, and she
saith, "The man dares defy my government; he will not do as others do.
Now I will persecute him. Slander! come from the depths of hell and
hiss at him. Envy! sharpen up thy tooth and bite him." She fetches up
all false things, arid she persecutes the man. If she can, she does it
with the hand; if not, by the tongue. She afflicts him wherever he is.
She tries to ruin him in business; or, if he standeth forth as the
champion of the truth why then she laugheth, arid mocketh, and
scorneth. She lets no stone be unturned whereby she may injure him.
What is then the behaviour of the Lord's warrior, when he sees the
world take up arms against him, and when he sees all earth, like an
army, coming to chase him, and utterly destroy him? Does he yield? Does
he yield? Does he bend? Does he cringe? Oh, no! Like Luther, he writes
"Cedo nulli" on his banner–"I yield to none;" and he goes to war
against the world, if the world goes to war against him.
"Let earth be all in arms abroad,
He dwells in perfect peace."
Ah! some of you, if you had a word spoken against you, would at once
give up what religion you have; but the true-born child of God cares
little for man's opinion. "Ah," says he, "let my bread fail me, let me
be doomed to wander penniless the wide world o'er; yea, let me die:
each drop of blood within these veins belongs to Christ, and I am ready
to shed it for his name's sake." He counts all things but loss, that he
may win Christ–that he may be found in him; and when the world's
thunders roars, he smiles at the uproar, while lie hums his pleasant
tune:–
"Jerusalem my happy home,
Name ever dear to me;
When shall my labours have an end,
In joy, and peace, and thee?"
When her sword comes out, he looketh at it. "Ah," saith he, "just as
the lightning leapeth from its thunder lair, splitteth the clouds, and
affrighteth the stars, but is powerless against the rock-covered
mountaineer, who smiles at its grandeur, so now the world cannot hurt
me, for in the time of trouble my Father hides me in his pavillion, in
the secret of his tabernacle doth he hide me, and set me up upon a
rock." Thus, again, we conquer the world, by not caring for its frowns.
3. "Well," saith the world, "I will try another style," and this
believe me, is the most dangerous of all. A smiling world is worse than
a frowning one. She saith, "I cannot smite the man low with my repeated
blows, I will take off my mailed glove, and showing him a fair white
hand, I'll bid him kiss it. I will tell him I love him: I will flatter
him, I will speak good words to him." John Bunyan well describes this
Madam Bubble: she has a winning way with her; she drops a smile at the
end of each of her sentences; she talks much of fair things, arid tries
to win and woo. Oh, believe me, Christians are not so much in danger
when they are persecuted as when they are admired. When we stand upon
the pinnacle of popularity, we may well tremble and fear. It is not
when we are hissed at, and hooted, that we have any cause to be
alarmed; it is when we are dandled on the lap of fortune, and nursed
upon the knees of the people; it is when all men speak well of us, that
woe is unto us. It is not in the cold wintry wind that I take off my
coat of righteousness, and throw it away; it is when the sun comes,
when the weather is warm, and the air balmy, that I unguardedly strip
off my robes, and become naked. Good God! how many a man has been made
naked by the love of this world! The world has flattered and applauded
him; he has drunk the flattery; it was an intoxicating draught; he has
staggered, he has reeled, he has sinned, he has lost his reputation;
and as a comet that erst flashed across the sky, doth wander far into
space, arid is lost in darkness, so doth he; great as he was, he falls;
mighty as he was, he wanders, and is lost. But the true child of God is
never so; he is as safe when the world smiles, as when it frowns; he
cares as little for her praise as for her dispraise. If he is praised,
and it is true, he says, ""My deeds deserves praise, but I refer all
honor to my God." Great souls know what they merit from their critic;
to them it is nothing more than the giving of their daily income. Some
men cannot live without a large amount of praise; and if they have no
more than they deserve, let them have it. If they are children of God,
they will be kept steady; they will not be ruined or spoiled; but they
will stand with feet like hinds' feet upon high places.–"This is the
victory that overcometh the world."
4. Sometimes, again, the world turns jailer to a Christian. God sends
affliction and sorrow, until life is a prison-house, the world its
jailer–and a wretched jailer too. Have you ever been in trials and
troubles, my friends? and has the world never come to you and said,
""Poor prisoner, I have a key that will let you out. You are in
pecuniary difficulties; I will tell you how you may get free. Put that
Mr. Conscience away. He asks you whether it is a dishonest act. Never
mind about him; let him sleep; think about the honesty after you have
got the money, and repent at your leisure." So saith the world; but you
say, "I cannot do the thing." "Well," says the world, "then groan and
grumble: a good man like you locked up in this prison!" "No," says the
Christian, "my Father sent me into want, and in his own time he will
fetch me out; but if I die here I will not use wrong means to escape.
My Father put me here for my good, I will not grumble; if my bones must
lie here–if my coffin is to be under these stones–if my tomb-stone
shall be in the wall of my dungeon–here will I die, rather than so
much as lift a finger to get out by unfair means." "Ah," says the
world, "then thou art a fool." The scorner laughs and passes on,
saying, "The man has no brain, he will not do a bold thing; he hath no
courage; he will not launch upon the sea; he wants to go in the old
beaten track of morality." Ay, so he does; for thus he overcomes the
world.
Oh! I might tell you of some battles that have been fought. There has
been many a poor maiden, who has worked, worked, worked, until her
fingers were worn to the bone, to earn a scanty living out of the
things which we wear upon us, knowing not that ofttimes we wear the
blood, and bones, and sinews of poor girls. That poor girl has been
tempted a thousand times, the evil one has tried to seduce her, but she
has fought a valiant battle; stern in her integrity, in the midst of
poverty she still stands upright, "Clear as the sun, fair as the moon,
and terrible as an army with banners," a heroine unconquered by the
temptations and enticements of vice. In other cases: many a man has had
the chance of being rich in an hour, affluent in a moment, if he would
but clutch something which he dare not look at, because God within him
said, "No." The world said, "Be rich, be rich;" but the Holy Spirit
said, "No! be honest; serve thy God." Oh, the stern contest. and the
manly combat carried on within the heart! But he said, "No; could I
have the stars transmuted into worlds of gold, I would not for those
globes of wealth belie my principles, and damage my soul :" thus he
walks a conqueror. "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even
our faith."
II. But my text speaks of a GREAT BIRTH. A very kind friend has told me
that while I was preaching in Exeter Hall I ought to pay deference to
the varied opinions of my hearers; that albeit I may be a Calvinist and
a Baptist, I should recollect that there are a variety of creeds here.
Now, if I were to preach nothing but what would please the whole lot of
you, what on earth should I do? I preach what I believe to be true; and
if the omission of a single truth that I believe, would make me king of
England throughout eternity, I would not leave it out. Those who do not
like what I say have the option of leaving it. They come here, I
suppose, to please themselves; and if the truth does not please them,
they can leave it. I will never be afraid that an honest British
audience will turn away from the man who does not stick, and stutter,
and stammer in speaking the truth. Well, now, about this great birth. I
am going to say perhaps a harsh thing, but I heard it said by Mr. Jay
first of all. Some say a new birth takes place in an infant baptism,
but I remember that venerable patriarch saying," Popery is a lie,
Puseyism is a lie, baptismal regeneration is a lie." So it is. It is a
lie so palpable that I can scarcely imagine the preachers of it have
any brains in their heads at all. It is so absurd upon the very face of
it, that a man who believes it put himself below the range of a
common-sense man. Believe that every child by a drop of water is born
again! Then that man that you see in the ring as a prize-fighter is
born again, because those sanctified drops once fell upon his infant
forehead! Another man swears–behold him drunk and reeling about the
streets. He is born again! A pretty born again that is! I think he
wants to be born again another time. Such a regeneration as that only
fits him for the devil; and by its deluding effect, may even make him
sevenfold more the child of hell. But the men who curse, and swear, and
rob and steal, and those poor wretches who are hanged, have all been
born again, according to the fiction of this beautiful Puseyite church.
Out upon it! out upon it! Ah, God sends something better than that into
men's hearts, when he sends them a new birth.
However, the text speaks of a great birth. "Whatsoever is born of God
overcometh the world." This new birth is the mysterious point in all
religion. If you preach anything else except the new birth you will
always get on well with your hearers; but if you insist that in order
to enter heaven there must be a radical change, though this is the
doctrine of the Scripture, it is so unpalateable to mankind in general
that you will scarcely get them to listen. Ah! now ye turn away if I
begin to tell you, that "except ye be born of water and of the Spirit,
ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." If I tell you that there must
be a regenerating influence exerted upon your minds by the power of the
Holy Ghost then I know ye will say "it is enthusiasm." Ah! but it is
the enthusiasm of the Bible. There I stand; by this I will be judged.
If the Bible does not say we must be born again, then I give it up; but
if it does then, sirs, do not distrust that truth on which your
salvation hangs.
What is it to be born again, then? Very briefly, to be born again is to
undergo a change so mysterious, that human words cannot speak of it. As
we cannot describe our first birth, so it is impossible for us to
describe the second. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh or
whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit." But
while it is so mysterious, it is a change which is known and felt.
People are not born again when they are in bed and asleep, so that they
do not know it. They feel it; they experience it. Galvanism, or the
power of electricity, may be mysterious; but they produce a feeling–a
sensation. So does the new birth. At the time of the new birth the soul
is in great agony–often drowned in seas of tears. Sometimes it drinks
bitters, now and then mingled with sweet drops of hope. Whilst we are
passing from death unto life, there is an experience which none but the
child of God can really understand. It is a mysterious change; but, at
the same time, it is a positive one. It is as much a change as if this
heart were taken out of me, and the black drops of blood wrung from it,
then washed and cleansed and put into my soul again. It is "a new heart
and a right spirit:" a mysterious but yet an actual and real change!
Let me tell you, moreover, that this change is a supernatural one. It
is not one that a man performs upon himself. It is not leaving off
drinking and becoming sober; it is not turning from a Roman Catholic to
a Protestant; it is not veering round from a Dissenter to a Churchman,
or a Churchman to a Dissenter. It is a vast deal more than that. It is
a new principle infused which works in the heart, enters the very soul,
and moves the entire man. Not a change of my name, but a renewal of my
nature, so that I am not the man I used to be, but a new man in Christ
Jesus. It is a supernatural change–something which man cannot do, and
which only God can effect; which the Bible itself cannot accomplish
without the attendant Spirit of God; which no minister's eloquence can
bring about–something so mighty and wondrous, that it must be
confessed to be the work of God, and God alone. Here is the place to
observe that this new birth is an enduring change. Arminians tell us
that people are born again, then fall into sin, pick themselves up
again, and become Christians again–fall into sin, lose the grace of
God, then come back again–fall into sin a hundred times in their
lives, and so keep on losing grace and recovering it. Well, I suppose
it is a new version of the Scripture where you read of that. But I read
in my Bible that if true Christians could fall away, it would be
impossible to renew them again unto repentance. I read, moreover, that
wherever God has begun a good work he will carry it on even to the end;
and that whom he once loves, he loves to the end. If I have simply been
reformed, I may be a drunkard yet, or you may see me acting on the
stage. But if I am really born again, with that real supernatural
change, I shall never fall away, I may fall into a sin, but I shall not
fall finally; I shall stand while life shall last, constantly secure;
and when I die it shall be said–
"Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy blest employ;
The battle's fought, the victory's won;
Enter thy rest of joy."
Do not deceive yourselves, my beloved. If you imagine that you have
been regenerated, and having gone away from God, will be once more born
again, you do not know anything about the matter; for "he that is born
of God sinneth not." That is, he does not sin so much as to fall away
from grace; "for he keepeth himself, that the evil one toucheth him
not." Happy is the man who is really and actually regenerate, and
passed from death unto life!
III. To conclude. There IS A GREAT GRACE. Persons who are born again
really do overcome the world. How is this brought about? The text says,
"This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."
Christians do not triumph over the world by reason. Not at all. Reason
is a very good thing, and nobody should find fault with it. Reason is a
candle: but faith is a sun. Well, I prefer the sun, though I do not put
out the candle. I use my reason as a Christian man; I exercise it
constantly: but when I come to real warfare, reason is a wooden sword;
it breaks, it snaps; while faith, that sword of true Jerusalem metal,
cuts to the dividing of soul and body. My text says, "This is the
victory which overcometh the world, even our faith." Who are the men
that do anything in the world? Are they not always men of faith? Take
it even as natural faith. Who wins the battle? Why, the man who knows
he will win it, and vows that he will be victor. Who never gets on in
the world? The man who is always afraid to do a thing, for fear he
cannot accomplish it. Who climbs the top of the Alps? The man who says,
"I will do it, or I will die." Let such a man make up his mind that he
can do a thing. and he will do it, if it is within the range of
possibility. Who have been the men who have lifted the standard, and
grasping it with firm hand, have upheld it in the midst of stormy
strife and battle? Why, men of faith. Who have done great things? Not
men of fear and trembling, men who are afraid; but men of faith, who
had bold fronts, and foreheads made of brass-men who never shook, and
never trembled, but believing in God, lifted their eyes to the hills,
whence cometh their strength.
"Never was a marvel done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith;
nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the
achievement; nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is faith.
Leonidas fought in human faith as Joshua in divine. Xenophon trusted to
his skill, and the sons of Matthias to their cause." Faith is mightiest
of the mighty. It is the monarch of the realms of the mind; there is no
being superior to its strength, no creature which will not bow to its
divine prowess. The want of faith makes a man despicable, it shrivels
him up so small that he might live in a nutshell. Give him faith, and
he is a leviathan that can dive into the depths of the sea; he is a war
horse, that cries, aha! aha! in the battle; he is a giant who takes
nations and crumbles them in his hand, who encounters hosts, and at a
sword they vanish; he binds up sheaves of sceptres, and gathers up all
the crowns at his own. There is nothing like faith, sirs. Faith makes
you almost as omnipotent as God, by the borrowed might of its divinity.
Give us faith and we can do all things.
I want to tell you how it is that faith helps Christians to overcome
the world. It always does it homoeopathically. You say, "That is a
singular idea." So it may be. The principle is that, "like cures like."
So does faith overcome the world by curing like with like. How does
faith trample upon the fear of the world? By the fear of God. "Now,"
says the world, "if you do not do this I will take away your life. If
you do not bow down before my false god, you shall be put in yon
burning fiery furnace." "But," says the man of faith, "I fear him who
can destroy both body and soul in hell. True, I may dread you, but I
have a greater fear than that, I fear lest I should displease God; I
tremble lest I should offend my Sovereign." So the one fear
counterbalances the other. How does faith overthrow the world's hopes?
"There," says the world, "I will give thee this, I will give thee that,
if thou wilt be my disciple. There is a hope for you; you shall be
rich, you shall be great." But, faith says, "I have a hope laid up in
heaven; a hope which fadeth not away, eternal, incorrupt, amaranthine
hope, a golden hope, a crown of life;" and the hope of glory overcomes
all the hopes of the world, "Ah!" says the world, "Why not follow the
example of your fellows ?" "Because," says faith, "I will follow the
example of Christ." If the world puts one example before us, faith puts
another. "Oh, follow the example of such an one; he is wise, and great,
and good," says the world. Says faith, "I will follow Christ; he is the
wisest, the greatest, and the best." It overcomes example by example,
"Well," says the world, "since thou wilt not be conquered by all this,
come, I will love thee; thou shalt be my friend." Faith says, "He that
is the friend of this world, cannot be the friend of God. God loves
me." So he puts love against love; fear against fear; hope against
hope; dread against dread; and so faith overcomes the world by like
curing like.
In closing my discourse, men and brethren, I am but a child; I have
spoken to you as I could this morning. Another time, perhaps I might be
able to launch more thunders, and to proclaim better the word of God;
but this I am sure of–I tell you all I know, and speak right on. I am
no orator; but just tell you what springs up from my heart. But before
I have done, O that I may have a word with your souls. How many are
there here who are born again? Some turn a deaf ear, and say, "It is
all nonsense; we go to our place of worship regularly; put our hymn
books and Bibles under our arm! and we are very religious sort of
people." Ah, soul! if I meet you at the bar of judgment, recollect I
said–and said God's word–" Except ye be born again ye shall not enter
the kingdom of heaven." Others of you say, "We cannot believe that
being born again is such a change as you speak of, I am a great deal
better than I used to be; I do not swear now, and I am very much
reformed." Sirs, I tell you it is no little change. It is not mending
the pitcher, but it is breaking it up and having a new one; it is not
patching the heart, it is having a new heart and a right spirit. There
is nothing but death unto sin, and life unto righteousness, that will
save your souls.
I am preaching no new doctrine. Turn to the articles of the Church of
England, and read it there. Church people come to me sometimes to unite
with our church; I show them our doctrines in their prayer book, and
they have said they never knew they were there. My dear hearers, why
cannot you read your own articles of faith? Why, positively, you do not
know what is in your own prayer book, Men, now-a-days, do not read
their Bibles, and they have for the most part no religion. They have a
religion, which is all outside show, but they do not think of searching
to see what its meaning really is. Sirs, it is not the cloak of
religion that will do for you; it is a vital godliness you need; it is
not a religious Sunday, it is a religious Monday; it is not a pious
church, it is a pious closet; it is not a sacred place to kneel in, it
is a holy place to stand in all day long. There must be a change of
heart, real, radical, vital, entire. And now, what say you? Has your
faith overcome the world? Can you live above it? or do you love the
world and the things thereof? If so, sirs, ye must go on your way and
perish, each one of you, unless ye turn from that, and give your hearts
to Christ. Oh! what say you, is Jesus worthy of your love? Are the
things of eternity and heaven worth the things of time? Is it so sweet
to be a worldling, that for that you can lie down in torment? Is it so
good to be a sinner, that for this you can risk your soul's eternal
welfare? O, my friends, is it worth your while to run the risk of an
eternity of woe for a hour of pleasure? Is a dance worth dancing in
hell with howling fiends for ever? Is one dream, with a horrid waking,
worth enjoying, when there are the glories of heaven for those who
follow God? Oh! if my lips would let me speak to you, my heart would
run over at my eyes, and I would weep myself away, until ye had pity on
your own poor souls. I know I am, in a measure, accountable for your
souls, If the watchmen warn them not, they shall perish, but their
blood shall be required at the watchman's hands, "Turn ye, turn ye, why
will ye die, O house of Israel?" thus saith the Lord. Besotted, filled
with your evil wills, inclined to evil; still the Holy Ghost speaks by
me this morning, "If ye turn unto the Lord, with full purpose of heart,
he will have mercy upon you, and to our God, he will abundantly
pardon." I cannot bring you; I cannot fetch you. My words are
powerless, my thoughts are weak! Old Adam is too strong for this young
child to draw or drag; but God speak to you, dear hearts; God send the
truth home, and then we shall rejoice together, both he that soweth and
he that reapeth, because God has given us the increase. God bless you!
may you all be born again, and have that faith that overcometh the
world!
"Have I that faith which looks to Christ,
O'ercomes the world and sin–
Receives him Prophet, Priest, and King,
And makes the conscience clean?
"If I this precious grace possess,
All praise is due to thee;
If not, I seek it from thy hands;
Now grant it, Lord, to me."