The Heavenly Race
A Sermon
(No. 198)
Delivered on Friday Afternoon, June 11, 1858, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
on the Grand Stand, Epsom Race-Course.
"So run, that ye may obtain."–1 Corinthians 9:24.
WE ARE CONTINUALLY insisting upon it from day to day, that salvation is
not of works, but of grace. We lay this down as one of the very first
doctrines of the gospel. "Not of works, lest any man should boast." "By
grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is
the gift of God." But we find that it is equally necessary to preach
the absolute necessity of a religious life for the attainment of heaven
at last. Although we are sure that men are not saved for the sake of
their works, yet are we equally sure that no man will be saved without
them; and that he who leads an unholy life, who neglects the great
salvation, can never inherit that crown of life which fadeth not away.
In one sense, true religion is wholly the work of God; yet there are
high and important senses in which we must ourselves "strive to enter
in at the strait gate." We must run a race; we must wrestle even to
agony; we must fight a battle, before we can inherit the crown of life.
We have in our text the course of religion set down as a race; and
inasmuch as there be many who enter upon a profession of religion with
very false motives, the apostle warns us that although all run in a
race, yet all do not obtain the prize: they run all, but only one is
rewarded: and he gives us, therefore, the practical exhortation to run
that we may obtain; for unless we are the winners we had better not
have been runners at all; for he that is not a winner is a loser; he
who makes a profession of religion, and does not at last obtain the
crown of life, is a loser by his profession; for his profession was
hypocrisy or else formality, and he had better not have made a
profession, than fall therein.
And now, in entering upon the text, I shall have to notice what it is
we are to run for: "So run that ye may obtain;" secondly, the mode of
running, to which we must attend–"So run that ye may obtain;" and then
I shall give a few practical exhortations to stir those onward in the
heavenly race who are flagging and negligent, in order that they may at
last "obtain."
I. In the first place, then, WHAT IS IT THAT WE OUGHT TO SEEK TO
OBTAIN?
Some people think they must be religious, in order to be respectable.
There are a vast number of people in the world who go to church and to
chapel, because everybody else does so. It is disreputable to waste
your Sundays, not to be found going up to the house of God, therefore
they take a pew and attend the services, and they think they have done
their duty: they have obtained all that they sought for, when they can
hear their neighbors saying, "Such-and-such a man is a very respectable
person; he is always very regular at his Church; he is a very reputable
person, and exceedingly praiseworthy." Verily, if this be what you seek
after in your religion, you shall get it; for the Pharisees who sought
the praise of men "had their reward." But when you have gotten it, what
a poor reward it is! Is it worth the drudgery? I do not believe that
the drudgery to which people submit in order to be called respectable,
is at an compensated by what they gain. I am sure, for my own part, I
would not care a solitary rap what I was called, or what I was thought;
nor would I perform anything that was irksome to myself for the sake of
pleasing any man that ever walked beneath the stars, however great or
mighty he may be. It is the sign of a fawning, cringing spirit, when
people are always seeking to do that which renders them respectable.
The esteem of men is not worth the looking after, and sad it is, that
this should be the only prize which some men put before them, in the
poor religion which they undertake.
There are people who go a little farther: they are not content with
being considered respectable, but they want something more; they desire
to be considered pre-eminently saints. These persons come to our places
of worship, and after a little time they venture to come forward and
ask whether they may unite with our churches. We examine them, and so
hidden is their hypocrisy that we cannot discover its rottenness: we
receive them into our churches; they sit at the Lord's Supper; they
come to our church-meetings: mayhap, they are even voted into the
deacon's office; sometimes they attain to the pulpit, though God has
never called them, and preach what they have never felt in their
hearts. Men may do all this merely to enjoy the praise of men; and they
will even undergo some persecution for the sake of it; because to be
thought a saint, to be reckoned by religious people to be everything
that is right and proper, to have a name among the living in Zion, is
to some persons a thing exceedingly coveted. They would not like to be
set down among the "chief of sinners," but if they may have their names
written among the chief of saints they will consider themselves
exceedingly exalted. I am afraid we have a considerable admixture of
persons of this sort in our churches who only come for the mere sake of
keeping up their religious pretensions and obtaining a religious status
in the midst of the church of God. "Verily, I say unto you they have
their reward," and they shall never have any but what they obtain here.
They get their reward for a little time. for a short time they are
looked up to. but perhaps even in this life they make a trip, and down
they go; the church discovers them, and they are sent out like the ass
stripped of the lion's skin to browse once more among their native
nettles, no longer to be glorious in the midst of the church of the
living God. Or mayhap, they may wear the cloak until the last day of
their lives, and then death comes, and strips them of all their tinsel
and gewgaw; And they who acted upon the stage of religion as kings and
princes, are sent behind the stage to be unrobed and to find themselves
beggars to their shame, and naked to their eternal disgrace. It is not
this which you and I would seek after in religion. Dearly beloved, if
we do run the race, we would run for a higher and more glorious prize
than any of these things.
Another set of people take up with religious life for what they can get
by it. I have known tradespeople attend church for the mere sake of
getting the custom of those who went there. I have heard of such things
as people knowing which side their bread was buttered, and going to
that particular denomination, where they thought they could get the
most by it. Loaves and fishes drew some of Christ's followers, and they
are very attracting baits, even to this day. Men find there is
something to be gotten by religion. Among the poor it is, perhaps, some
little charity to be obtained, and among those that are in business, it
is the custom which they think to get. "Verily I say unto you, they
have their reward;" for the church is ever foolish and unsuspicious. We
do not like to suspect our fellow creatures of following us from sordid
motives. The church does not like to think that a man would be base
enough to pretend to religion for the mere sake of what he can get,
and, therefore, we let these people easily slip through, and they have
their reward. But ah! at what a price they buy it! They have deceived
the Lord's servants for gold, and they have entered into his church as
base hypocrites for the sake of a piece of bread; and they shall be
thrust out at last with the anger of God behind them, like Adam driven
out of Eden, with the flaming Cherubim with a sword turning every way
to keep the tree of life; and they shall for ever look back upon this
as the most fearful crime they have committed–that they pretended to
be God's people when they were not, and entered into the midst of the
fold when they were but wolves in sheeps' clothing.
There is yet another class, and when I have referred to them I will
mention no more. These are the people who take up with religion for the
sake of quieting their conscience, and it is astonishing how little of
religion will sometimes do that. Some people tell us that if in the
time of storm men would pour bottles of oil upon the waves, there would
be a great calm at once. I have never tried it, and it is most probable
I never shall, for my organ of credulity is not large enough to accept
so extensive a statement. But there are some people who think that they
can calm the storm of a troubled conscience by pouring a little of the
oil of a profession about religion upon it; and it is amazing how
wonderful an effect this really has. I have known a man who was drunk
many times in a week, and who got his money dishonestly, and yet he
always had an easy conscience by going to his church or chapel
regularly on the Sunday. We have heard of a man who could "devour
widows' houses"–a lawyer who could swallow up everything that came in
his way, and yet he would never go to bed without saying his prayers;
and that stilled his conscience. We have heard of other persons,
especially among the Romanists,. who would not object to thieving, but
who would regard eating anything but fish on a Friday as a most fearful
sin, supposing that by making a fast on the Friday, all the iniquities
of all the days in the week would be put away. They want the outward
forms of religion to keep the conscience quiet; for Conscience is one
of the worst lodgers to have in your house when he gets quarrelsome:
there is no abiding with him; he is an ill bed-fellow; ill at lying
down, and equally troublesome at rising up. A guilty conscience is one
of the curses of the world: it puts out the sun, and takes away the
brightness from the moonbeam. A guilty conscience casts a noxious
exhalation through the air, removes the beauty from the landscape, the
glory from the flowing river, the majesty from the rolling floods.
There is nothing beautiful to the man that has a guilty conscience. He
needs no accusing; everything accuses him. Hence people take up with
religion just to quiet them. They take the sacrament sometimes; they go
to a place of worship; they sing a hymn now and then, they give a
guinea to a charity; they intend to leave a portion in their will to
build alms-houses, and in this way conscience is lulled asleep, and
they rock him to and fro with religious observances, till there he
sleeps while they sing over him the lullaby of hypocrisy, and he wakes
not until he shall wake with that rich man who was here clothed in
purple, but in the next world did lift up his eyes in hell, being in
torments, without a drop of water to cool his burning tongue.
What, then, is it, for which we ought to run in this race? Why heaven,
eternal life, justification by faith, the pardon of sin, acceptance in
the Beloved, and glory everlasting. If you run for anything else than
salvation, should you will, what you have won is not worth the running
for. Oh! I beseech every one of you, make sure work for eternity, never
be contented with anything less than a living faith in a living
Saviour; rest not until you are certain that the Holy Spirit is at work
in your souls. Do not think that the outside of religion can be of use
to you; it is just the inward part of religion that God loveth. Seek to
have a repentance that needeth not to be repented of–a faith which
looks alone to Christ, and which will stand by you when you come into
the swellings of Jordan, Seek to have a love which is not like a
transient flame, burning for a moment and then extinguished; but a
flame which shall increase and increase, and still increase, till your
heart shall be swallowed up therein, and Jesus Christ's one name shall
be the sole object of your affection. We must, in running the heavenly
race, set nothing less before us than that which Christ did set before
him. He set the joy of salvation before himself, and then he did run,
despising the cross and enduring the shame. So let us do; and may God
give us good success, that by his good Spirit we may attain unto
eternal life, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord!
II. Thus have I noticed what it is we are to run for. And now the
Apostle says, "So run that ye may obtain." I shall notice some people
who never will obtain, and tell you the reason why, and in so doing, I
shall be illustrating THE RULES OF THE RACE.
There are some people who certainly never will obtain the prize,
because they are not even entered. Their names are not down for the
race, and therefore it is quite clear that they will not run, or if
they do run, they will run without having any warrant whatever for
expecting to receive the prize. There are some such here this
afternoon: who will tell you themselves, "We make no profession,
sir–none whatever." It is quite as well, perhaps, that you do not;
because if you did, you would be hypocrites, and it is better to make
no profession at all than to be hypocrites. Still, recollect, your
names are not down for the race, and therefore you cannot win. If a man
tells you in business that he makes no profession of being honest, you
know that he is a confirmed rogue. If a man makes no profession of
being religious, you know what he is–he is irreligious–he has no fear
of God before his eyes, he has no love to Christ, he has no hope of
heaven. He confesses it himself. Strange that men should be so ready to
confess this. You don't find persons in the street willing to
acknowledge that they are confirmed drunkards. Generally a man will
repudiate it with scorn. You never find a man saying to you, "I don't
profess to be a chaste living man." You don't hear another say, "I
don't profess to be anything but a covetous wretch." No; people are not
so fast about telling their faults: and yet you hear people confess the
greatest fault to which man can be addicted: they say, "I make no
profession"–which means just this–that they do not give God his due.
God has made them, and yet they won't serve him; Christ hath come into
the world to save sinners, and yet they will not regard him; the gospel
is preached; and yet they will not hear it, they have the Bible in
their houses, and yet they will not attend to its admonitions: they
make no profession of doing so. It will be short work with them at the
last great day. There will be no need for the books to be opened, no
need for a long deliberation in the verdict. They do not profess to be
pardoned; their guilt is written upon their own foreheads, their brazen
shamelessness shall be seen by the whole world, as a sentence of
destruction written upon their very brows. You cannot expect to win
heaven unless your names are entered for the race. If there be no
attempts whatever made, even at so much as a profession of religion,
then of course you may just sit down and say, "Heaven is not for me; I
have no part nor lot in the inheritance of Israel, I cannot say that my
Redeemer liveth; and I may rest quite assured that Tophet is prepared
of old for me. I must feel its pains and know its miseries; for there
are but two places to dwell in hereafter, and if I am not found on the
right hand of the Judge, there is but one alternative–namely, to be
cast away for ever into the blackness of darkness."
Then there is another class whose names are down, but they never
started right. A bad start is a sad thing. If in the ancient races of
Greece or Rome a man who was about to run for the race had loitered, or
if he had started before the time it would not matter how fast he ran,
if he did not start in order. The flag must drop before the horse
starts; otherwise, even if it reach the winning post first, it shall
have no reward. There is something to be noted, then, in the starting
of the race. I have known men run the race of religion with all their
might, and yet they have lost it because they did not start right. You
say, "Well, how is that?" Why, there are some people who on a sudden
leap into religion. They get it quickly, and they keep it for a time.
and at last they lose it because they did not get their religion the
right way. They have heard that before a man can be saved, it is
necessary that, by the teaching of the Holy Spirit, he should feel the
weight of sin, that he should make a confession of it, that he should
renounce all hope in his own works, and should look to Jesus Christ
alone. They look upon all these things as unpleasant preliminaries and
therefore, before they have attended to repentance, before the Holy
Spirit has wrought a good work in them before they have been brought to
give up everything and trust to Christ, they make a profession of
religion. This is just setting up in business without a stock in trade,
and there must be a failure. If a man has no capital to begin with, he
may make a fine show for a little time, but it shall be as the
crackling of thorns under a pot, a great deal of noise and much light
for a little time, but it shall die out in darkness. How many there are
who never think it necessary that there should be heart work within!
Let us remember, however, that there never was a true new birth without
much spiritual suffering, that there never was a man who had a changed
heart without his first having a miserable heart. We must pass through
that black tunnel of conviction before we can come out upon the high
embankment of holy joy; we must first go through the Slough of Despond
before we can run along the walls of Salvation. There must be ploughing
before there is sowing; there must be many a frost, and many a sharp
shower before there is any reaping. But we often act like little
children who pluck flowers from the shrubs and plant them in their
gardens without roots; then they say how fair and how pretty their
little garden is; but wait a little while, and their flowers are
withered, because they have no roots. This is an the effect of not
having a right start, not having the "root of the matter." What is the
good of outward religion, the flower and the leaf of it, unless we have
the "root of the matter" in us–unless we have been digged into by that
sharp iron spade of conviction, and have been ploughed with the plough
of the Spirit, and then have been sown with the sacred seed of the
gospel, in the hope of bringing forth an abundant harvest? There must
be a good start; look well to that, for there is no hope of running
unless the start be right.
Again, there are some runners in the heavenly race who cannot win
because they carry too much weight. A light weight, of course, has the
advantage. There are come people who have an immensely heavy weight to
carry. "How hardly shall a rich man enter into the kingdom of heaven!"
What is the reason? Because he carries so much weight; he has so much
of the cares and pleasures of this world; he has such a burden that he
is not likely to win, unless God should please to give him a mighty
mass of strength to enable him to bear it. We find many men willing to
be saved, as they say; they receive the word with great joy, but
by-and-bye thorns spring up and choke the word. They have so much
business to do; they say they must live; they forget they must die.
They have such a deal to attend to, they cannot think of living near to
Christ. They find they have little time for devotions; morning prayer
must be cut short, because their business begins early; they can have
no prayer at night, because business keeps them so late. How can they
be expected to think of the things of God? They have so much to do to
answer this question–"What shall I eat? what shall I drink? and
wherewithal shall I be clothed?" It is true they read in the Bible that
their Father who is in heaven will take care of them in these things if
they will trust him. But they say, "Not so." Those are enthusiasts
according to their notions who rely upon providence. They say, the best
providence in all the world is hard work; and they say rightly, but
they forget that into the bargain of their hard work "it is in vain to
rise up early and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness; for
except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it." You
see two men running a race. One of them, as he starts, lays aside every
weight, he takes off his garment and away he runs. There goes the other
poor fellow, he has a whole load of gold and silver upon his back. Then
around his loins he has many distrustful doubts about what shall become
of him in the future, what will be his prospects when he grows old, and
a hundred other things. He does not know how to roll his burden upon
the Lord. See how he flags, poor fellow, and how the other distances
him, leaves him far behind, has gained the corner, and is coming to the
winning post. It is well for us if we can cast everything away except
that one thing needful, and say, "This is my business, to serve God on
earth, knowing that I shall enjoy him in heaven." For when we leave our
business to God, we leave it in better hands than if we took care of it
ourselves. They who carve for themselves generally cut their fingers;
but they who leave God to carve for them, shall never have an empty
plate. He who will walk after the cloud shall go aright, but he who
will run before it shall soon find that he has gone a fool's errand.
"Blessed is the man who trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the
Lord.is." "The young lions do lack and suffer hunger, but they that
wait upon the Lord shall not want any good thing." Our Saviour said,
"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not,
neither do they spin, and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all
his glory was not arrayed like one of these." Behold the fowls of the
air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet
your heavenly Father feedeth them, are ye not much better than they?"
"Trust in the Lord and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed." "His
place of defense shall be the munitions of rocks; bread shall be given
him; his waters shall be sure." "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and
his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." Carry
the weight of this world's cares about you. and it will be as much as
you can do to carry them and to stand upright under them, but as to
running a race with such burdens, it is just impossible.
There is also another thing that will prevent man's running the race.
We have known people who stopped on their way to kick their fellows.
Such things sometimes occur in a race. The horse, instead of speeding
onwards to the mark, is of an angry disposition, and sets about kicking
those that are running beside him–there is not much probability of his
coming in first. "Now they that run in a race run all, but one
receiveth the prize." There is one however who never gets it, and that
is the man who always attends to his fellow-creatures instead of
himself. It is a mysterious thing that I never yet saw a man with a hoe
on his shoulder, going to hoe his neighbour's garden, it is a rarity to
see a farmer sending his team of horses to plough his neighbour's land;
but it is a most singular thing that every day in the week I meet with
persons who are attending to other people's character. If they go to
the house of God and hear a trite thing said, they say at once "How
suitable that was for Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Brown?" The thought never
enters their head, how suitable it was to themselves. They lend their
ears to everybody else, but they do not hear for themselves. When they
get out of chapel, perhaps as they walk home, their first thought is,
"Well, how can I find fault with my neighbors?" They think that putting
other people down is going up themselves (there never was a greater
mistake); that by picking holes in their neighbour's coat they mend
their own They have so few virtues of their own that they do not like
anybody else to have any therefore they do the best they can to despoil
everything good in their neighbor; and it there be a little fault, they
will look at it through a magnifying glass, but they will turn the
glass the other way when they look at their own sins. Their own faults
become exceedingly small while those of others become magnificently
great. Now this is a fault not only among professing religious men, but
among those who are not religious. We are all so prone to find fault
with other people instead of attending to our own home affairs. We
attend to the vineyards of others, but our own vineyard we have not
kept. Ask a worldly man why he is not religious, and he tells you
"Because so-and-so makes a profession of religion and is not
consistent." Pray is that any business of yours? To your own Master you
must stand or fall, and so must he; God is their judge, and not you.
Suppose there are a great many inconsistent Christians–and we are
compelled to acknowledge that there are–so much the more reason why
you should be a good one. Suppose there are a great many who deceive
others; so much the more reason you should set the world an example of
what a genuine Christian is. "Ah! but," you say, "I am afraid there are
very few." Then why don't you make one? But after all, is that your
business? Must not every man bear his own burden? You will not be
judged for other men's sins, you will not be saved by their faith, you
will not be condemned for their unbelief. Every man must stand in his
own proper flesh and blood at the bar of God, to account for the works
done in his own body, whether they have been good or whether they have
been evil. It will be of little avail for you to say at the day of
judgment, "O Lord, I wee looking at my neighbors; O Lord, I was finding
fault with the people in the village; I was correcting their follies."
But thus saith the Lord: "Did I ever commission thee to be a judge or a
divider over them? Why, if thou hadst so much time to spare, and so
much critical judgment, didst thou not exercise it upon thyself? Why
didst thou not examine thyself, so that thou mightest have been found
ready and acceptable in the day of God?" These persons are not very
likely to win the race, because they turn to kicking others.
Again, there is another class of persons who will not win the
race–namely, those who, although they seem to start very fair, very
soon loiter. They dart ahead at the first starting, and distance all
the others. There they fly away as if they had wings to their heels;
but a little further on in the race, it is with difficulty that with
whip and spur they are to be kept going at all, and they almost come to
a stand still. Alas! this race of persons are to be discovered in all
our churches. We get young people who come forward and make a
profession of religion, and we talk with them, and we think it is all
well with them, and for a little while they do run well; there is
nothing wanting in them; we could hold them up as patterns for the
imitation of others. Wait a couple of years. they drop off just by
little and little. First, perhaps, there is the attendance on a
week-day service neglected; then it is altogether discontinued; then
one service on Sabbath; then perhaps family prayer, then private
prayer–one thing after another is given up, until at last the whole
edifice which stood upright and looked so fair, having been built upon
the sand, gives way before the shock of time, and down it falls, and
great is the ruin thereof. Recollect, it is not starting that wins the
race; it is running all the way. He that would be saved, must hold on
to the end: "He that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved."
Stop and loiter in the race before you have come to the end thereof,
and you have made one of the greatest mistakes that could possibly
occur. On, on, on! while you live; still onward, onward, onward! for
until you come to the grave, you have not come to your resting place
until you arrive at the tomb, you have not come to the spot where you
may cry "Halt!" Ever onward if ye would win. If you are content to
lose, if you would lose your own soul, you may say, "Stop," if you
please; but if you would be saved evermore, be on, on, till you have
gained the prize.
But there is another class of persons, who are worse than these. They
start well too, and they run very fast at first, but at last they leap
over the posts and rails, they go quite out of the course altogether,
and you do not know where they are gone. Every now and then, we get
such people as this. They go out from us, because they are not of us,
for had they been of us, doubtless they would have continued with us. I
might point out in my congregation on the Sabbath-day, a man whom I saw
start myself. I saw him running so well I almost envied him the joy he
seemed always able to preserve, the faith which ever seemed to be so
buoyant and full of jubilee. Alas! just when we thought he was speeding
onwards to the prize, some temptation crossed his path, and he turned
aside. Away he is scrambling far over the heath, out of the path of
right, and men say, "Aha! aha! so would we have it; so would we have
it." And they laugh and make merriment over him, because, having once
named the name of Jesus Christ, he hath afterwards gone back again, and
his last end is worse than the first. Those whom God starts never do
this, for they are preserved in Christ Jesus. Those who have been
"entered" in the great roll of the Covenant before all eternity shall
persevere, by the aid of the good Spirit. He that began the good work
in them, shall carry it on even unto the end. But, alas! there are many
who run on their own account and in their own strength; and they are
like the snail, which as it creeps, leaves its life as a trail upon its
own path. They melt away; their nature decayeth; they perish, and where
are they? Not in the church, but lost to all hope. They are like the
dog that returned to his vomit, and the sow that was washed to her
wallowing in the mire. "The last end of that man shall be worse than
the first."
I do not think I shall now mention any other class of persons. I have
brought before you the rules of the race, if you would will; if you
would "so run that you may obtain," you must first of all take care to
start well; you must keep to the course; you must keep strait on; you
must not stop on the road, or turn aside from it, but, urged on by
Divine grace, you must ever fly onwards, "like an arrow from the bow,
shot by an archer strong." And never rest until the march is ended, and
you are made pillars in the house of your God, to go out no more for
ever.
III. But now I am about to give you some few reasons to URGE YOU ONWARD
IN THE HEAVENLY RACE–those of you who are already running.
One of my reasons shall be this–"We are compassed about by so great a
cloud of witnesses." When zealous racers on yonder heath are flying
across the plain, seeking to obtain the reward, the whole heath is
covered with multitudes of persons, who are eagerly gazing upon them,
and no doubt the noise of those who cheer them onward, and the thousand
eyes of those who look upon them, have a tendency to make them stretch
every nerve, and press with vigor on. It was so in the games to which
the apostle alludes. There the people sat on raised platforms, while
the racers ran before them, and they cried to them, and the friends of
the racers urged them forward, and the kindly voice would ever be heard
bidding them go on. Now, Christian brethren, how many witnesses are
looking down upon you. Down! do I say? It is even so. From the
battlements of heaven the angels look down upon you, and they seem to
cry to-day to you with sweet, silvery voice, "Ye shall reap if ye faint
not; ye shall be rewarded if ye continue stedfast in the work and faith
of Christ." And the saints look down upon you–Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob; martyrs and confessors, and your own pious relatives who have
ascended to heaven, look down upon you, and if I might so speak,
methinks sometimes you might hear the clapping of their hands when you
have resisted temptation and overcome the enemy; and you might see
their suspense when you are lagging in the course, and you might hear
their friendly word of caution as they bid you gird up the loins of
your mind, and lay aside every weight, and still speed forward, never
resting to take your breath, never staying for a moment's ease till you
have attained the flowery beds of heaven. where you may rest forever.
And recollect, these are not the only eyes that are looking upon you.
The whole world looks upon a Christian: he is the observed of all
observers. In a Christian every fault is seen. A worldly man may commit
a thousand faults, and nobody notices him; but let a Christian do so,
and he will very soon have his faults published to the wide world.
Everywhere men are looking at Christians. and it is quite right that
they should do so. I remember a young man, a member of a Christian
church, who went to a public-house hall of the lowest character; and he
was no sooner mounting up the stairs, than one of them said, "Ah! here
comes the Methodist; we will give it to him." As soon as they had him
in the room, they first of all lead him up and down to let everybody
see the Methodist who had come among them, and then they kicked him
down stairs. I sent them my respectful compliments for doing so, for it
served him right; and I took care that he was kicked down stairs in
another sense afterwards, and kicked out of the church. The world would
not have him and the church would not have him. The world then looks
upon you, it never misses an opportunity of throwing your religion in
your teeth. If you don't give sixteen ounces to the pound of morality,
if you don't come up to the mark in everything, you will hear of it
again. Don't think the world is ever asleep. We say, "as sound asleep
as a church," and that is a very good proverb; but we cannot say, "as
sound asleep as the world" for it never sleeps; it always has its eyes
open, it is always watching us in all we do. The eyes of the world are
upon you. "We are compassed about with a great cloud of witnesses;"
"let us run with patience the race that is set before us." And there
are darker and yet more malignant eyes that scowl upon us. There are
spirits that people this air, who are under the prince of the power of
the air, who watch every day for our halting.
"Millions of spiritual creatures walk this earth,
Both when we wake and when we sleep."
And alas! those spiritual creatures are not all good. There be those
that are not yet chained and reserved in darkness, but who are
permitted by God to wander through this world like roaring lions,
seeking whom they may devour, ever ready to tempt us. And there is one
at the head of them called Satan, the enemy, and you know his
employment. He has access to the throne of God, and he makes most
horrid use of it, for he accuses us day and night before the throne.
The accuser of the brethren is not yet cast down–that is to be in the
great day of the triumph of the Son of Man; but as Jesus stands our
Advocate before the throne, so does old Satan first watch us and tempt
us, and then stands as our accuser before the bar of God. O my dear
brothers and sisters, if you have entered into this race, and have
commenced it, let these many eyes urge you forward.
"A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way."
And now a more urgent consideration still. Recollect, your race is win
or lose–death or life, hell or heaven, eternal misery or everlasting
joy. What a stake that is for which you run. If I may so put it, you
are running for your life; and if that does not make a man run nothing
will. Put a man there on yonder hill, and put another after him with a
drawn sword seeking his life, If there is any run in him you will soon
see him run; there will be no need for us to shout out to him, "Run,
man, run" for he is quite certain that his life is at hazard, and he
speeds with all his might–speeds till the veins stand like whipcords
on his brow, and a hot sweat runs from every pore of his body–and
still flees onward. Now, he looks behind, and sees the avenger of blood
speeding after him; he does not stop; he spurns the ground, and on he
flees till he reaches the city of refuge, where he is safe. Ah! if we
had eyes to see, and if we knew who it is that is pursuing us every
afar of our lives, how we should run! for lo! O man, hell is behind
thee, sin pursues thee, evil seeks to overtake thee; the City of Refuge
has its gates wide open; I beseech thee, rest not till thou canst say
with confidence, "I have entered into this rest, and now I am secure, I
know that my Redeemer liveth." And rest not even then, for this is not
the place for rest; rest not until thy six days work is done; and thy
heavenly Sabbath is begun. Let this life be thy six days of
ever-toiling faith. Obey thy Master's commandment; "labour therefore to
enter into this rest," seeing that there are many who shall not enter
in, because through their want of faith they shall not be able. If that
urge not a man to speed forward, what can?
But let me picture yet one more thing; and may that help you onward!
Christian, run onward, for remember who it is that stands at the
winning post. You are to run onward, always looking unto Jesus, then
Jesus must be at the end. We are always to be looking forward, and
never backward; therefore Jesus must be there. Are you loitering? See
him with his open wounds. Are you about to leave the course? See him
with his bleeding hands; will not that constrain you to devote yourself
to him? Will not that impel you to speed your course, and never loiter
until you have obtained the crown? Your dying Master cries to you
to-day, and he says. "By my agony and bloody sweat; by my cross and
passion, onward! By my life, which I gave for you; by the death which I
endured for your sake, onward!" And see! He holds out his hand, laden
with a crown sparkling with many a star, and he says, "By this crown,
onward!" I beseech you, onward, my beloved; press forward, for "I know
that there is laid up for me a crown of life which fadeth not away, and
not for me only, but for all them that love his appearing."
I have thus addressed myself to all sorts of characters. Will you this
afternoon take that home to yourself which is the most applicable to
your case. Those of you who make no profession of religion, are living
without God and without Christ, strangers to the commonwealth of
Israel,–let me affectionately remind you that the day is coming when
you will want religion. It is very well now to be sailing over the
smooth waters of life, but the rough billows of Jordan will make you
want a Saviour. It is hard work to die without a hope; to take that
last leap in the dark is a frightful thing indeed. I have seen the old
man die when he has declared he would not die. He has stood upon the
brink of death, and he has said, "All dark, dark, dark! O God, I cannot
die." And his agony has been fearful when the strong hand of the
destroyer has seemed to push him over the precipice. He lingered
shivering on the brink, and feared to launch away." And frightful was
the moment when the foot slipped and the solid earth was left, and the
soul was sinking into the depths of eternal wrath. You will want a
Saviour then, when your pulse is faint and few; you will need an angel
then to stand at your bedside: and when the spirit is departing, you
will need a sacred convoy to pilot you through the dark clouds of death
and guide you through the iron gate, and lead you to the blessed
mansion in the land of the hereafter. Oh, "seek ye the Lord while he
may be found, call ye upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake
his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto
the Lord and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will
abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are
your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than
the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than
your thoughts." O Lord, turn us and we shall be turned. Draw us and we
will run after thee; and thine shall be the glory; for the crown of our
race shall be cast at thy feet, and thou shalt have the glory forever
and ever.
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