Christ Triumphant
A Sermon
(No. 273)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, September 4th, 1859, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.
"And having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a shew of them
openly, triumphing over them in it."–Colossians 2:15.
TO THE EYE OF REASON the cross is the centre of sorrow and the lowest
depth of shame. Jesus dies a malefactor's death. He hangs upon the
gibbet of a felon and pours out his blood upon the common mount of doom
with thieves for his companions. In the midst of mockery, and jest, and
scorn, and ribaldry, and blasphemy, he gives up the ghost. Earth
rejects him and lifts him from her surface, and heaven affords him no
light, but darkens the mid-day sun in the hour of his extremity. Deeper
in woe the Saviour dived, imagination cannot descend. A blacker calumny
than was cast on him satanic malice could not invent. He hid not his
face from shame and spitting; and what shame and spitting it was! To
the world the cross must ever be the emblem of shame: to the Jew a
stumbling-block, and to the Greek foolishness. How different however is
the view which presents itself to the eye of faith. Faith knows no
shame in the cross, except the shame of those who nailed the Saviour
there; it sees no ground for scorn, but it hurls indignant scorn at
sin, the enemy which pierced the Lord. Faith sees woe, indeed, but from
this woe it marks a fount of mercy springing. It is true it mourns a
dying Saviour, but it beholds him bringing life and immortality to
light at the very moment when his soul was eclipsed in the shadow of
death. Faith regards the cross, not as the emblem of shame, but as the
token of glory. The sons of Belial lay the cross in the dust, but the
Christian makes a constellation of it, and sees it glittering in the
seventh heaven. Man spits upon it, but believers, having angels for
their companions, bow down and worship him who ever liveth though once
he was crucified. My brethren, our text presents us with a portion of
the view which faith is certain to discover when its eyes are anointed
with the eye-salve of the Spirit. It tells us that the cross was Jesus
Christ's field of triumph. There he fought, and there he conquered,
too. As a victor on the cross he divided the spoil. Nay, more than
this; in our text the cross is spoken of as being Christ's triumphal
chariot in which he rode when he led captivity captive, and received
gifts for men. Calvin thus admirably expounds the last sentence of our
text:–"the expression in the Greek allows, it is true, of our
reading–in himself; the connection of the passage, however, requires
that we read it otherwise; for what would be meagre as applied to
Christ, suits admirably well as applied to the cross. For as he had
previously compared the cross to a signal trophy or show of triumph, in
which Christ led about his enemies, so he now also compares it to a
triumphal car in which he showed himself in great magnificence. For
there is no tribunal so magnificent, no throne so stately, no show of
triumph so distinguised, no chariot so elevated, as is the gibbet on
which Christ has subdued death and the devil, the prince of death; nay,
more, has utterly trodden them under his feet."
I shall this morning, by God's help, address you upon the two portions
of the text. First, I shall endeavour to describe Christ as spoiling
his enemies on the cross; and having done that I shall lead your
imagination and your faith further on to see the Saviour in triumphal
procession upon his cross, leading his enemies captive, and making a
shew of them openly before the eyes of the astonished universe.
I.First, our faith is invited this morning to behold CHRIST MAKING A
SPOIL OF PRINCIPALITIES AND POWERS. Satan, leagued with sin and death,
had made this world the home of woe. The Prince of the power of the
air, fell usurper, not content with his dominions in hell, must need
invade this fair earth. He found our first parents in the midst of
Edem; he tempted them to forego their allegiance to the King of heaven;
and they became at once his bondslaves–bondslaves forever, if the Lord
of heaven had not interposed to ransom them The voice of mercy was
heard while the fetters were being rivetted upon their feet, crying,
"Ye shall yet be free!" In the fulness of time there shall come one who
shall bruise the serpent"s head, and shall deliver his prisoners from
the house of their bondage. Long did the promise tarry. The earth
groaned and travailed in its bondage. Man was Satan's slave, and heavy
were the clanking chains which were upon his soul. At last, in the
fulness of time, the Deliverer came forth, born of a woman. This infant
conqueror was but a span long. He lay in the manger–he who was one day
to bind the old dragon and cast him into the bottomless pit, and set a
seal upon him. When the old serpent knew that his enemy was born, he
conspired to put him to death; he leagued with Herod to seek the young
child that he might destroy him. But the providence of God preserved
the future conqueror; he went down into Egypt, and there was he hidden
for a little season. Anon, when he had come to fulness of years, he
made his public advent, and began to preach liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to them that were bound. Then Satan again
shot forth his arrows, and sought to end the existence of the woman's
seed. Once the Jews took up stones to stone him; nor did they fail to
repeat the attempt. They sought to cast him down from the brow of a
hill headlong. By all manner of devices they laboured to take away his
life, but his hour was not yet. Dangers might surround him, but he was
invulnerable till the time was come. At last the trememdous day
arrived. Foot to foot the conqueror must fight with the dread tyrant. A
voice was heard in heaven, "This is your hour, and the power of
darkness." And Christ himself exclaimed, "Now is the crisis of this
world; now must the prince of darkness be cast out." From the table of
communion the Redeemer arose at midnight, and marched forth to the
battle. How dreadful was the contest! In the very first onset the
mighty conqueror seemed himself to be vanquished. Beaten to the earth
at the first assault, he fell upon his knees and cried, "My Father, if
it be possible let this cup passd from me." Revived in strength, made
strong by heaven, he no longer quailed, and from this hour never did he
utter a word which looked like renouncing the fight. From the terrible
skirmish all red with bloody sweat, he dashed into the thick of the
battle. The kiss of Judas was, as it were, the first sounding of the
trumpet; Pilate's bar was the glittering of the spear; the cruel lash
was the crossing of the swords. But the cross was the centre of the
battle; there, on the top of Calvary, must the dread fight of eternity
be fought. Now must the Son of God arise, and gird his sword upon his
thigh. Dread defeat or glorious conquest awaits the Champion of the
church. Which shall it be? We hold our breath with anxious suspense
while the storm is raging. I hear the trumpet sound. The howlings and
yells of hell rise in awful clamour. The pit is emptying out its
legions. Terrible as lions, hungry as wolves, and black as night, the
demons rush on in myriads. Satan's reserve forces, those who had long
been kept against this day of terrible battle, are roaring from their
dens. See how countless their armies, and how fierce their
countenances. Brandishing his sword the arch fiend leads the van,
bidding his followers fight neither with small nor great, save only
with the King of Israel. Terrible are the leaders of the battle. Sin is
there, and all its innumbrable offspring, spitting forth the venom of
asps, and infixing their poison-fangs in the Saviour's flesh. Death is
there upon his pale horse, and his cruel dart rends its way through the
body of Jesus even to his inmost heart. He is "exceeding sorrowful,
even unto death." Hell comes, with all its coals of juniper and fiery
darts. But chief and head amongst them is Satan; remembering well the
ancient day Christ hurled him from the battlements of heaven, he rushes
with all his malice yelling to the attack. The darts shot into the air
are so thick that they blind the sun. Darkness covers the battle-field,
and like that of Egypt it was a darkness which might be felt. Long does
the battle seem to waver, for there is but one against many. One
man–nay, tell it, lest any should misunderstand me, one God stands in
battle array against ten thousands of principalities and powers. On, on
they come, and he receives them all. Silently at first he permits their
ranks to break upon him, too terribly enduring hardness to spare a
thought for shouting. But at last the battle-cry is heard. He who is
fighting for his people begins to shout, but it is a shout which makes
the church tremble. He cries, "I thirst." The battle is so hot upon
him, and the dust so thick that he is choked with thirst. He cries, "I
thirst." Surely, now, he is about to be defeated? Wait awhile; see ye
yon heaps; all these have fallen beneath his arm, as for the rest fear
not the issue. The enemy is but rushing to his own destruction. In vain
his fury and his rage, for see the last rank is charging, the battle of
ages is almost over. At last the darkness is dispersed. Hark how the
conqueror cries, "It is finished." And where now are his enemies? They
are all dead. There lies the king of terrors, pierced through with one
of his own darts! There lies Satan with his head all bleeding, broken!
Yonder crawls the broken-backed serpent, writhing in ghastly misery! As
for sin, it is cut in pieces, and scattered to the winds of heaven! "It
is finished," cries the conqueror, as he came with dyed garments from
Bozrah, "I have trodden the wine-press alone, I have trampled them in
my fury, and their blood is sprinkled on my garments."
And now he proceeds to divide the spoil.
We pause here to remark that when the spoil is divided it is a sure
token that the battle is completely won. The enemy will never suffer
the spoil to be divided among the conquerors as long as he has any
strength remaining. We may gather from our text of a surety, that Jesus
Christ has totally routed, thorougly defeated once for all, and put to
retreat all his enemies, or else he would not have divided the spoil.
And now, what means this expression of Christ dividing the spoil? I
take it that it means, first of all, that he disarmed all his enemies.
Satan came against Christ; he had in his hand a sharp sword called the
Law, dipped in the poison of sin, so that every wound which the law
inflicted was deadly. Christ dashed this sword out of Satan's hand, and
there stood the prince of darkness disarmed. His helmet was cleft in
twain, and his head was crushed with a rod of iron. Death rose against
Christ. The Savior snatched his quiver from him, cut them in two, gave
Death back the feather end, but kept the poisoned barbs from him, that
he might never destroy the ransomed. Sin came against Christ; but sin
was utterly cut in pieces. It had been Satan's armour bearer, but its
shield was cast away, and it lay dead upon the plain. Is it not a noble
picture to behold all the enemies of Christ?–nay, my brethren, all
your enemies, and mine, totally disarmed? Satan has nothing left him
now wherewith he may attack us. He may attempt to injure us, but wound
us he never can, for his sword and spear are utterly taken away. In the
old battles, especially among the Romans, after the enemy had been
overcome, it was the custom to take away all their weapons and
ammunition; afterwards they were stripped of their armour and their
garments, their hands were tied behind their backs, and they were made
to pass under the yoke. Now, even so hath Christ done with sin, death,
and hell: he hath taken away their armour, spoiled them of all their
weapons, and made them all to pass under the yoke; so that now they are
our slaves, and we in Christ are conquerors of them who were mightier
than we.
I take it this is the first meaning of dividing the spoil–total
disarming of the adversary.
In the next place, when the victors divide the spoil they carry away
not only the weapons but all the treasures which belong to their
enemies. They dismantle their fortresses, and rifle all their stores,
so that in future they may not be able to renew the attack. Christ has
done the like with all his enemies. Old Satan had taken away from us
all our possessions. Paradise, Satan had added to his territories. All
the joy, and happiness, and peace of man, Satan had taken–not that he
could enjoy them himself, but that he delighted to thrust us down into
poverty and damnation. Now, all our lost inheritances Christ hath
gotten back to us. Paradise is ours, more than all the joy and
happiness that Adam had, Christ hath brought back to us. O robber of
our race, how art thou spoiled and carried away captive! Didst thou
despoil Adam of his riches? The second Adam hath rent them from thee!
How is the hammer of the whole earth cut asunder and broken, and the
waster is become desolate. Now shall the needy be remembered, and again
shall the meek inherit the earth. "Then is the prey of a great spoil
divided, the lame take the prey."
Moreover, when victors divide the spoil, it is usual to take away all
the ornaments frm the enemy, the crowns and the jewels. Christ on the
cross did the like with Satan. Satan had a crown on his head, a haughty
diadem of triumph. "I fought the first Adam," he said; "I overcame him,
and here's my glittering diadem." Christ snatched it from his brow in
the hour when he bruised the serpent's head. And now Satan cannot boast
of a single victory, he is thoroughly defeated. In the first skirmish
he vanquished manhood, but in the second battle manhood vanquished him.
The crown is taken from Satan. He is no longer the prince of God's
people. His reigning power is gone. He may tempt, but he cannot compel;
he may threaten, but he cannot subdue; for the crown is taken from his
head, and the mighty are brought low. O sing unto the Lord a new song,
all ye his peoole, make a joyful noise unto him with psalms, all ye his
redeemed; for he hath broken in sunder the gates of brass, and cut the
bars of iron, he hath broken the bow and cut the spear in sunder, he
hath burned the chariots in the fire, he hath dashed in pieces our
enemies, and divided the spoil with the strong.
And now, what says this to us? Simply this. If Christ on the cross hath
spoiled Satan, let us not be afraid to encounter this great enemy of
our souls. My brethren, in all things we must be made like unto Christ.
We must bear our cross, and on that cross we must fight as he did with
sin, and death and hell. Let us not fear. The result of the battle is
certain, for as the Lord our Saviour hath overcome once even so shall
we most surely conquer in him. Be none of you afraid with sudden fear
when the evil one cometh upon you. If he accuse you, reply to him in
these words:–"Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?" If
he condemn you, laugh him to scorn, crying:–"Who is he that
condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather hath risen again." If he
threaten to divide you from Christ's love, encounter him with
confidence:–"I am persuaded that neither things present nor things to
come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to
separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus your Lord."
If he let loose your sins upon you dash the hell-dogs aside with
this:–"if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous." If death should threaten you, shout in his very
face:–"O grave where is thy sting" O death, where is thy victory?"
Hold up the cross before you. Let that be your shield and buckler and
rest assured that as your master not only routed the foe but afterwards
took the spoil, it shall be even so with you. Your battles with Satan
shall turn to your advantage. You shall become all the richer for your
antagonists. The more numerous they shall be, the greater shall be your
share of the spoil. Your tribulation shall work patience, and your
patience experience, and your experience hope–a hope that maketh not
ashamed. Through this much tribulation shall you inherit the kingdom,
and by the very attacks of Satan shall you be helped the better to
enjoy the rest which remaineth to the people of God. Put yourselves in
array against sin and Satan. All ye that bend the bow shoot at them,
spare no arrows, for your enemies are rebels against God. Go ye up
against them, put your feet upon their necks, fear not, neither be y
dismayed, for the battle is the Lord's and he will deliver them into
your hands. Be ye very courageous, remembering that you have to fight
with a stingless dragon. He may hiss, but his teeth are broken and his
poison fang extracted. You have to battle with an enemy already scarred
by your Master's weapons. You have to fight with a naked enemy. Every
blow you give him tells upon him. for he has nothing left to protect
him. Christ hath stripped him naked, and divided his armour, and left
him defenceless before his people. Be not afraid. The lion may howl,
but rend you in pieces he never can. The enemy may rush in upon you
with hideous noise and terrible alarms, but there is no real cause for
fear. Stand fast in the Lord. Ye war against a king who hath lost his
crown; ye fight against an enemy whose cheek-bones have been smitten,
and the joints of whose loins have been loosed. Rejoice, rejoice ye in
the day of battle, for it is for you but the beginning of an eternity
of triumph.
I have thus endeavoured to dwell upon the first part of the text,
Christ on the cross divided the spoil and he would have us do the same.
II.The second part of our text refers not only to the dividing of the
spoil, but to THE TRIUMPH. When a Roman general had perfomed great
feats in a foreign country, his highest reward was that the senate
should decree him a triumph. Of course there was a division of spoil
made on the battle-field, and each soldier, and each captain, took his
share; but every man looked rapturously to the day when they should
enjoy the public triumph. On a certain set day the gates of Rome were
thrown open; all the houses were decorated with ornaments; the people
climbed to the tops of the houses, or stood in great crowds along the
streets. The gates were opened, and by-and-bye the first legion began
to stream in with its banners flying and its trumpets sounding. The
people saw the stern warriors as they marched along the street
returning from their blood-red fields of battle. After one half of the
army had thus defiled, your eye would rest upon one who was the centre
of all attraction: riding in a noble chariot drawn by milk-white
horses, there came the conqueror himself, crowned with the laurel crown
and standing erect. Chained to his chariot were the kings and mighty
men of the regions which he had conquered. Immediately behind them came
part of the booty. There were carried the ivory and the ebony, and the
beasts of the different countries which he had subdued. After these
came the rest of the soldiery, a long, long stream of valiant men, all
of them sharing the triumphs of their captain. Behind them came
banners, the old flags that had floated aloft in the battle, the
standards which had been taken from the enemy. And after these, large
painted emblems of the great victories of the warrior. Upon one there
would be a huge map depicting the rivers which he had crossed, or the
seas through which his navy had found its way. Everything was
represented in a picture, and the populace gave a fresh shout as they
saw the memorial of each triumph. And then, behind, together with the
trophies, would come the prisoners of lesser rank. Then the rear would
be closed with sound of trumpet, adding to the acclamation of the
throng. It was a noble day for old Rome. Children would never forget
these triumphs; they would estimate their years from the time of one
triumph to another. High holiday was kept. Women cast down flowers
before the conqueror, and he was the true monarch of the day.
Now, our apostle had evidently seen such a triumph, or read of it, and
he takes this as a representation of what Christ did on the cross. He
says, "Jesus made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it."
Have you ever thought that the cross could be the scene of a triumph.
Most of the old commentators can scarcely conceive of it as true. They
say, "This must certainly refer to Christ's resurrection and
ascension." But, nevertheless, so saith the Scripture, even on the
cross Christ enjoyed a triumph. Yes! while those hands were bleeding,
the acclamations of angels were being poured on his head. Yes, while
those feet were being rent with the nails, the noblest spirits in the
world were crowding round him in admiration. And when upon that
blood-stained cross he died in agonies unutterable, there was heard a
shout such as never was heard before for the ransomed in heaven, and
all the angels of God with loudest harmony chanted his praise. There
was sung, in fullest chorus, the song of Moses, the servant of God and
of the Lamb, for he had indeed cut Rahab and sorely wounded the dragon.
Sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously. The Lord shall
reign for ever and ever, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
I do not feel able, however, this morning, to work out a scene so
grand, and yet so contrary to everything that flesh could guess as a
picture of Christ actually triumphing on the cross–in the midst of his
bleeding, his wounds, and his pains, actually being a triumphant
victor, and admired of all. I choose, rather, to take my text thus: the
cross is the ground of Christ's ultimate triumph. He may be said to
have really triumphed there, because it was by that one act of his,
that one offering of himself, that he completely vanquished all his
foes, and for ever sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in the
heavens. In the cross, to the spiritual eye, every victory of Christ is
contained. It may not be there in fact, but it is there virtually; the
germ of his glories may be discovered by the eye of faith in the
agonies of the cross.
Bear with me while I humbly attempt to depict the triumph which now
results from the cross.
Christ has for ever overcome all his foes, and divided the spoil upon
the battle field, and now, even at this day is he enjoying the
well-earned reward and triumph of his fearful struggle. Lift up your
eyes to the battlements of heaven, the great metropolis of God. The
pearly gates are wide open, and the city shines with her bejewelled
walls like a bride prepared for her husband. Do you see the angels
crowding to the battlements? Do you observe them on every mansion of
the celestial city, eagerly desiring and looking for something which
has not yet arrived? At last, there is heard the sound of a trumpet,
and the angels hurry to the gates–the vanguard of the redeemed is
approaching the city. Abel comes in alone, clothed in a crimson garb,
the herald of a glorious army of martyrs. Hark to the shout of
acclamation! This is the first of Christ's warriors, at once a soldier
and a trophy, that has been delivered. Close at his heels there follow
others, who in those early times had learned of the coming Saviour's
fame. Behind them a mighty host may be discovered of patriarchal
veterans, who have witnessed to the coming of the Lord in a wanton age.
See Enoch still walking with his God, and singing sweetly–"Behold the
Lord cometh with ten thousand of his saints." There too is Noah, who
had sailed in the ark with the Lord as his pilot. Then follow Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, Moses and Joshua, and Samuel, and David, all mighty
men of valour. Hearken to them as they enter! Every one of them waving
his helmet in the air, cries, "Unto him who loved us, and washed us
from our sins in his blood, unto him be honour, and glory, and
dominion, and power, for ever and ever!" Look, my brethren, with
admiration upon this noble army! Mark the heroes as they march along
the golden streets, everywhere meeting with an enthusiastic welcome
from the angels who have kept their first estate. On, on they pour,
those countless legions–was there ever such a spectacle? It is not the
pageant of a day, but the "show" of all time. For four thousand years,
on streams the army of Christ's redeemed. Sometimes there is a short
rank, for the people have often been minished and brought low; but,
anon, a crowd succeeds them, and on, on, still on they come, all
shouting, all praising him who loved them and gave himself for them.
But, see, he comes! I see his immediate herald, clad in a garment of
camel's hair, and a leathern girdle about his loins. The Prince of the
house of David is not far behind. Let every eye be open. Now, mark, how
not only the angels, but the redeemed crowd the windows of heaven! He
comes! He comes! It is Christ himself! Lash the snow-white coursers up
the everlasting hills; "Life up you heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted
up, ye everlasting doors, that the King of glory may come in." See, he
enters in the midst of acclamations. It is he! but he is not crowned
with thorns. It is he! but though his hands wear the scar, they are
stained with blood no longer. His eyes are as a flame of fire, and on
his head are many crowns, and he hath on his vesture and on his thigh
written, KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. He stands aloft in that
chariot which is "paved with love for the daughters of Jerusalem."
Clothed in a vesture dipped in blood, he stands confessed the emperor
of heaven and earth. On, on he rides, and louder than the noise of many
waters and like great thunders are the acclamations which surround him!
See how John's vision is become a reality, for now we can see for
ourselves and hear with our ears the new song, whereof he writes, "They
sung a new song, saying, thou art worthy to take the book, and to open
the seals thereof: for thou was slain, and hast redeemed us to God by
thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and
has made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the
earth. And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about
the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was
ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; saying
with a loud voice, worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power,
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and
blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and
under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them,
heard I saying, blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him
that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. And
the four beasts said, amen. And the four and twenty elders fell down
and worshipped him that liveth for ever and ever." But who are these at
his chariot wheels? Who are these grim monsters that come howling in
the rear? I know them. First of all there is the arch enemy. Look at
the old serpent, bound and fettered, how he writhes his ragged length
along! his azure hues all tarnished with trailing in the dust, his
scales despoiled of their once-vaunted brightness. Now is captivity led
captive, and death and hell shall be cast into the lake of fire. With
what derision is the chief of rebels regarded. How is he become the
object of everlasting contempt. He that sitteth in the heavens doth
laugh, and the Lord doth have him in derision. Behold now how the
serpent's head is broken, and the dragon is trampled under foot. And
now regard attentively yon hideous monster, Sin, chained hand in hand
with his satanic sire. See how he rolls his fiery eye-balls, mark how
he twists and writhes in agonies. Mark how he glares upon the holy
city, but is unable to spit his venom there, for he is chained and
gagged, and dragged along an unwilling captive at the wheels of the
victor. And there, too, is old Death, with his darts all broken and his
hands behind him–the grim king of terrors, he too is a captive. Hark
to the songs of the redeemed, of those who have entered in Paradise, as
they see these mighty prisoners dragged along! "Worthy is he," they
shout, "to live and reign at his Almighty Father's side, for he hath
ascended up on high, he hath led captivity captive, and received gifts
for men."
And now behind him I see the great mass of his people streaming in. The
apostles are the first to arrive in one goodly fellowship hymning their
Lord; and then their immediate successors; and then a long array of
those who through cruel mockings and blood, through flame and sword,
have followed their Master. These are those of whom the world was not
worthy, brightest among the stars of heaven. Regard also the mighty
preachers and confessors of the faith, Chrysostom, Athanasius,
Augustine, and the like. Witness their holy unanimity in praising their
Lord. Then let your eye run along the glittering ranks till you come to
the days of Reformation. I see in the midst of the squadron, Luther,
Calvin, and Zwingle, three holy brothers. I see just before them
Wickliffe, and Huss, and Jerome of Prague, all marching together. And
then I see a number that no man can number, converted to God through
these mighty reformers, who now follow in the rear of the King of kings
and Lord of lords. And looking down to our own time I see the stream
broader and wider. For many are the soldiers who have in these last
times entered into their Master's triumph. We may mourn their absence
from us, but we must rejoice in their presence with the Lord. But what
is the unanimous shout, what is the one song that still rolls from the
first rank to the last? It is this: "Unto him that loved us, washed us
from our sins in his own blood, to him be glory and dominion for ever
and ever!" Have they changed the tune? Have they supplanted his name by
another? Have they put the crown upon another head, or elevated another
hero into the chariot? Ah, no: they are content still to let the
triumphant procession stream along its glorious length; still to
rejoice as they behold fresh trophies of his love, for every soldier is
a trophy, every warrior in Christ's army is another proof of his power
to save, and his victory over death and hell.
I have not the time to enlarge further, or else I might describe the
mighty pictures at the end of the procession; for in the old Roman
triumphs, the deeds of the conqueror were all depicted in paintings.
The towns he had taken, the rivers he had passed, the provinces he had
subdued, the battles he had fought, were represented in pictures and
exposed to the view of the people, who with great festivity and
rejoicing, accompanied him in throngs, or beheld him from the windows
of their houses, and filled the air with their acclamations and
applauses. I might present to you first of all the picture of hell's
dungeons blown to atoms. Satan had prepared deep in the depth of
darkness a prison-house for God's elect; but Christ has not left one
stone upon another. On the picture I see the chains broken in pieces,
the prison doors burnt with fire, and all the depths of the vasty deep
shaken to their foundations. On another picture I see heaven open to
all believers; I see the gates that were fast shut heaved open by the
golden lever of Christ's atonement. I see one, another picture, the
grave despoiled; I behold Jesus in it, slumbering for awhile, and then
rolling away the stone and rising to immortality and glory. But we
cannot stay to describe these mighty pictures of the victories of his
love. We know that the time shall come when the triumphant procession
shall cease, when the last of his redeemed shall have entered into the
city of happiness and joy, and when with the shout of a trumpet heard
for the last time, he shall ascend into heaven, and take his people up
to reign with God, even our Father, even for ever and ever, world
without end.
Our only question, and with that we conclude, is, have we a good hope
through grace that we shall march in that tremendous procession? Shall
we pass under view in that day of pomp and glory? Say, my soul, shalt
thou have an humble part in that glorious pageant? Wilt thou follow at
his chariot wheels? Wilt thou join in the thundering hosannas? Shall
thy voice help to swell the everlasting chorus? Sometimes, I fear it
shall not. There are times when the awful question comes–what if my
name should be left out when he should read the muster roll? Brethren,
does not that thought trouble you? Can you answer it? Will you be
there–shall you see this pomp? Will you behold him triumph over sin,
death and hell at last? Canst thou answer this question? There is
another, but the answer will serve for both–dost thou believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ? Is he thy confidence and thy trust? Hast thou
committed thy soul to his keeping? Reposing on his might canst thou say
for thine immortal spirit–
"Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on thee?"
If thou canst say that, thine eyes shall see him in the day of his
glory; nay, thou shalt share his glory, and sit with him upon his
throne, even as he has overcome and sits down with his Father upon his
throne. I blush to preach as I have done this morning on a theme far
beyond my power; yet I could not leave it unsung, but, as best I might,
sing it. May God enlarge your faith, and strengthen your hope, and
inflame your love, and make you ready to be made partakers of the
inheritance of the saints in light, that when he shall come with flying
clouds on wings of wind, ye may be ready to meet him, and may with him
ascend to gaze for ever on the vision of his glory.
May God grant this blessing, for Christ's sake. Amen.