Believers–Lights In The World

Believers–Lights In The World
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 28, 1862, BY REV. C. H.
SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Do all things without murmurings and disputing, that you may be
blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst
of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom you shine as lights in the
world; holding forth the Word of Life, that I may rejoice in the day of
Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither labored in vain."
Philippians 2:14-16.
We shall be very far from the truth if we suppose that Christian
precepts have suffered any degeneration of meaning. If we imagine that
the precepts of the Gospel were more stern in Apostolic times than in
these later ages, we labor under a very gross and dangerous delusion.
Fresh from the abominations of heathenism the early converts would
naturally be placed under the mildest rules, rather than the more
severe. If the Gospel could have known a change, the Apostle would have
given its easiest precepts at the first, and then in these better days
the whole Revelation would have been brought out and more stringent
precepts would have been proclaimed.
Since, however, it is contrary to the genius of the Gospel to be
progressive in its Revelation, since it was all revealed at once, we
must never imagine that the precepts given by Paul may be toned down
and diluted to suit the present age. I say again, Brethren, if these
men, fresh from the foul Stygian ditch of heathen abomination and
lasciviousness, were nevertheless exhorted to the greatest sublimity of
holiness, much more is it incumbent upon us to arrive at a very high
state of Christian perfection and walk very near to God and be very
close imitators of Christ.
May God help us to hear, this morning, the address which Paul gave to
the Church in Philippi. May we feel its full forge in our consciences
and embody its full meaning in our lives.
The Apostle says, "Do all things"–by which he seems to teach the
activity of the Christian Church, for the Christian religion is not
mere thinking or feeling but doing and working for God. "Do all things
without murmurings," without murmuring at God's Providence–which was a
common vice of the heathen, who, on their tombstones often recorded
their protest against God for having removed their darlings and
upbraided Him as cruel and unkind for taking away their relatives.
"Do all things without murmurings against one another" Let your love be
so hearty and sincere that you do not envy your richer or more talented
Brethren. Let there be no low whispers traveling through your
assemblies against those who ought to be esteemed among you. Whatever
you do, let no murmuring be mixed with it, but labor with delight and
suffer with patience. Let there be no murmurings even against the
ungodly world. If they are unjust, bear their injustice in silence. Be
not always offering complaints. There are a thousand things which you
might speak of, but it is better that, like Aaron, you should hold your
peace. To suffer in silence shall dignify you, and make you greater
than ordinary manhood–for then you shall become like He–who before
His accusers opened not His mouth.
The Apostle continues, do all things without "disputing." Dispute not
with God. Let Him do what seems good to Him. Dispute not with your
fellow Christians, raise not railing accusations against them. When
Calvin was told that Luther had spoken ill of him, he said, "Let Luther
call me a devil if he please, I will never say of him but that he is a
most dear and valiant servant of the Lord." Raise not intricate and
knotty points by way of controversy. Remember, you have adversaries
upon whom to use your swords, and therefore there is little need that
you should blunt their edges by dashing at the armor of your fellows.
Dispute not even with the world. The heathen philosophers always sought
occasions for debate. Be it yours to testify what God has told you, but
court not controversy. Be not ashamed to contend earnestly for the
faith once delivered to the saints, but never do it in a spirit of mere
debating–never because you wish to gain a victory, but only because
you would tell what God has bid you reveal. "Thatyou may be blameless."
Men will blame you, but you must seek, as Chris- tians, to lead lives
that give no occasion for blame. Like Daniel, compel them to say of
you, "We shall not find any occasion against this Daniel, except we
find it against him concerning the Law of his God."
Erasmus writes of his great adversary, Luther, "Even Luther's enemies
cannot deny but that he is a good man." Brethren, force this tribute
from an unwilling world. Live so that as in Tertullian's age, men may
say as they did in his time, "Such-and-such a man is a good man, even
though he is a Christian." The heathens thought the Christians the
worst of men, but were compelled to confess them to be the best, even
though they were Christians. "Be you blameless and harmless," says the
Apostle. The Greek word might be translated "hornless," as if you were
to be creatures not only that do no harm but could not do any.
Like sheep that not only will not devour but cannot devour, for it were
contrary to their nature. For they have no teeth with which to bite, no
fangs with which to sting, no poison with which to slay. If you carry
arrows, let them be dipped in love. If you bear a sword, let it be the
sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. But otherwise, be
everywhere, even among those that would harm you, "holy, harmless,
undefiled, separate from sinners." "As the sons of God," the Apostle
goes on to say–as if the dignity of our relationship should beget in
us an equally dignified deportment. "Remember," says the old
philosopher–"Remember, O Antigonus, that you are a king's son!"
Remember, O Christian, that you are a son of the King of kings–even
God Himself!
Soil not the fingers which are soon to sweep celestial strings. Let not
those eyes become the windows of lust which are soon to see the King in
His beauty–let not those feet be defiled in miry places, which are
soon to walk the golden streets–let not those hearts be filled with
pride and bitterness which are soon to be filled with Heaven, and to
overflow with ecstatic joy. As "the sons of God," remember that the
eyes of all are upon you. More is expected from you than from other
men, because you have a higher pedigree, for you are descended from the
very highest, Himself, and therefore should be the highest and best in
the world.
The Apostle then adds, "without rebuke." Men whom the world cannot
rebuke. Men who can stand right straight up and defy their enemies to
find any real fault in them. Men who can say without any Phariseeism,
as Job did, "Lord, You know that I am not wicked." My Brethren, I would
you were such that men must lie before they can revile you. I would
have you men upon whose snow-white garments filth will not stick–who
may be, and must be slandered, but cannot be really rebuked. O Beloved,
to use Paul's own words, "Be you sons of God without rebuke, in the
midst of a crooked and perverse nation."
I have expounded the address of Paul. Permit me to remind you that all
the while he is telling us to do this as the means to an end–and what
is the end? Why, that we may, "shine as lights in the world in the
midst of a crooked and perverse nation." The means themselves are
precious. To be "holy, harmless and undefiled," is a glorious matter of
itself. But when such a bright thing becomes but a means, how excellent
must the end be! How desirable that you and I, and each one of us who
has named the name of Jesus, should "shine as lights in the world,
holding forth the Word of Life"!
This brings me to the subject which I want to impress upon your hearts
this morning. I would that every Believer here, whether member of this
Church or of any of the part of Christ's family, might see to it, that
from now on he should shine as a light in the midst of the darkness of
this world, giving light to those that come within the range of his
influence. There seems to me to be four things about which I may well
speak. First, here is publicity required–they cannot shine without it.
Here is, secondly, usefulness intended. Here is thirdly, position
indicated–they are "in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation."
And here is, fourthly, an argument suggested, that in the day of Christ
I may rejoice that I have not run in vain, neither labored in vain.
I. First then, here is A MEASURE OF PUBLICITY REQUIRED. You will note
the text says they are to be lights. Now how can they be lights without
being seen, and of what use would they be if they could be unseen
lights? I cannot tell! But then, they are to shine, and how can they
shine unless there is some radiance proceeding from them, and how this
if they live in secret, and if they are never understood to be
Christians at all? But then, where does the text say they are to shine
as lights?–in their house? No, "in the world." True, they are to be
lights in their own family–but moreover if they come up to the full
standard of what they should be, they are to be lights in the world.
These three words–lights, lights shining, and lights in the
world–most positively teach that a Christian must have some degree of
publicity, and that it is hardly possible for him to carry out his true
character if he lives in such retirement and secrecy as never to be
known to be a Christian. Some timid hearts there are, some gentle
spirits, that shun altogether the exposure of their religion. They
quote Nicodemus as if they did not know that Nicodemus is rather a
beacon than an example. I would be far from crushing a tender spirit,
far from laughing at the nervousness which may keep a man in the back
rank when he ought to stand in the forefront of the battle.
But if I should, by some Scriptural remarks, lead Christians to see
that they are not to be always seeking retirement, but rather they must
stand out and avow the Master. And if I can persuade the gentle spirit
to bear its willing witness to Christ, thrice happy shall I be!
Pharisees of old courted publicity. They could not give away one
halfpenny in the street but they must sound a trumpet that everybody
might see their splendid charity. They could not pray in their closet,
but they must seek some corner of the street that every passerby might
hold up his hands in amazement at the man who was so good that he
prayed even in the street!
The world has found this trick out. We usually say of ladies, when we
find them working at parties, that they do not work at home. And we
should surely think of people who pray in the streets, that they pray
nowhere else. And of persons who show their charity publicly, that they
show all that they have to show. Ostentatious religion nowadays is soon
discovered and detected. But while we must be warned against the pride
of the Pharisee, we must take care that we run not into another
extreme. "Am I always to serve God by stealth? Am I never to speak a
good word for Christ lest somebody should say I am proud?"
Your own conscience will be your guide in that matter. If you detect in
yourself any desire to glorify yourself–then you are wrong in making
your religion public at all. Plainly, if you discover that you are
keeping back in order to get an easier path for yourself–then you are
grievously wrong in seeking to hide your religion. If it is for God's
honor for you to publish on the housetops what He has told you in the
closet, do it. And if it is for Christ's honor to do only in the closet
that which another man would do in the street, do it. Your conscience
will always teach you, if it is an enlightened conscience, when you
might act boldly and when, on the other hand, you would be cowardly.
I think there is no difficulty in steering between this Scylla and
Charybdis. Any man with a little wisdom will soon discern what he ought
to do. But do not, I pray you, make the Pharisee's pride an excuse for
your cowardice. Never say, "I do not like to make a profession because
there are so many hypocrites!" The more reason why you should make a
profession that there may be some honest ones. Do not say, "Oh, I would
not, for fear people should think I am proud!" Why should you look at
the fear of man which brings a snare–is it not yours to obey God,
rather than man?
I cannot understand Christ's words–"You are a city set on a hill which
cannot be hid." Nor these, "Let your light so shine before men, that
they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in
Heaven." Nor these, "He that with his mouth confesses and with his
heart believes on the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved."–I cannot
understand these passages, if you are never to avow your faith, but
keep your religion hidden up in a secret place and go to Heaven by
stealth.
How much publicity, then, do we really think is necessary in a
Christian? It is becoming that he should make a public avowal of his
faith. He should come out from among the world and declare himself to
be on the Lord's side. There is an ordinance which God has Himself
ordained, which is the proper way in which to make this profession–to
be baptized in water, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of
the Holy Spirit–thus openly being buried in water to show our death to
the world, and rising out of the water to show that we hope to live a
new life as the result of the resurrection of Christ from the dead.
If you should differ as to the form in which this profession is to be
made, yet the profession should be made. If you would be honest and
true, you must in answer to the Master's summons, "Who is on the Lord's
side?" come out and say, "Here am I, Lord, I am Your servant and I
would serve You even to the end." You should also be associated
constantly with Christian people. The one act of profession is not
enough–it should be continued by union with some visible Church of
Christ. We find in the Apostle's days that those who were converted
were added to the Church. It is written, "They first gave their own
selves to the Lord and unto us by the will of God."
Christianity requires you to unite yourselves with those who are united
to Christ. If the Church of Christ is the spouse of Jesus, you should
seek to be a member of her visibly, as well as invisibly–especially
you that are lately converted, for your presence in the Church is for
your good, and much for the Church's comfort. The man that was healed
stood with Peter and John. And it is written, when they saw the man
that was healed standing with Peter and John, they could say nothing
against them. The gathering together of the converts to sustain the
minister is a very great help in the propagation of the Truth of God as
it is in Jesus.
Besides this association with Christians, there should be a daily
carrying out of your Christianity in your life. It is not all that we
say that shines. That may be only a flash, a sparkle, a display of
fireworks–it is our daily acting which is the true shining out of
Christ within. Let the servant prove her Christianity by being more
attentive than any other. Let the master prove his by being more
generous than any other master. Let the rich man shine in his
liberality. Let the poor man shine in his patience. Let each in every
sphere seek to excel those who are not in Christ, that so everyone may
prefer us in our position to the worldling in the same office, and take
knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus and have learned of Him.
But to shine as lights, we must add the open testimony of our words. I
will not give a rusty nail for your religion if you can be quiet about
it. I do not believe you have any. That which is nearest to the heart
is generally most on the tongue. You must be constantly bearing your
witness by the words of your mouth for Christ, seeking to teach the
ignorant, to warn the careless, to reclaim the backsliding and to bring
the wanderers to the Cross. You will have many opportunities in the
sphere in which you move, avail yourself of them all, and so shall you
shine as a light in the world.
And there are times when you cannot shine without a very bold and stern
decision for Christ. When the old Roman senator, in the days of
Vespasian, was told by the emperor that he might go into the senate
house but he must hold his tongue, he answered, "I, being a senator,
feel impelled to go into the senate house, and being in the senate, it
is the part of a senator to speak what his conscience dictates."
"Then," said Vespasian, "if you speak you will die." "Be it known to
you, O Emperor," said he, "that I never hoped to be immortal, nor did I
ever wish to live when I might not speak my mind."
Brave Roman! We must have brave Christians, too, who say, "Being a
Christian, it is mine to speak, and if that should cost me all I have,
and life itself, I never thought myself immortal, and I wish to die
when I may not speak out that which God has written in my heart." There
are times, I say, when if we should falter, or delay, we become
traitors at once–make sure that in those "crises of your being"–you
promptly follow your Lord.
So much of publicity I think is needed then–an open profession, a
constant association with the Christian Church, a perpetual living out
of godliness, an open declaration of the same, and a deliberate
decision when occasion shall present itself. Look you, Sirs, Christians
are soldiers. If our soldiers were to take it into their heads that
they ought never to be seen, a pretty pass things would come to. What
were the soldiers worth when they shunned parade, and dreaded battle?
Take off your regimentals, and be packing, Sirs! We want not men who
must always lie skulking behind a bush, and dare not show themselves to
friend or foe.
Christians are runners, too and what sort of runners are men who run in
the dark? Not so, says the Apostle? He says, we are "encompassed about
by so great a cloud of witnesses," and therefore bids us, "lay aside
every weight and the sin that does so easily beset us." What? Running
match and no spectators! Ave Imperator! The champion salutes you! He
prays you to dismiss the spectators. Conscript fathers, leave your
seats and you knights of the empire retire from the race! You common
herd retire, or put your fingers to your eyes–here comes a runner who
is so dainty that he cannot be looked at, a swift-footed racer who must
be scrutinized by no vulgar eye or he will faint and lose the crown.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! the mob laughs. "Ah," they say, "these are not the men
to make a Roman holiday, these timid fools had better play with babes
in the nursery, they are not fit to consort with men." What do you
think of Christians who must have the stadium cleared before they can
enter the course? Rather, O sons of God, defy all onlookers. Crowd the
seats and look on, you angels, and men, and devils, too–and see what
you will. What matters it to the Christian, for he is looking unto
Jesus! He runs not for you but for the reward–and whether you look or
look not–his zeal and earnestness are still the same. Christ is in
him, and run he must, look on who will.
II. Secondly, here is in the text, USEFULNESS. "Well" says one, "if I
were known to be a Christian what use would it be?" We will soon show
you. One remark, however, I will make–the better Christian you are,
the more public you will be–but the less will be thought of you! You
have noticed at night a star, it is only a little spark, but still it
is very bright, and everybody says, "Do you see that star?" Yes, but
there is a moon, why does not everybody say, "Look what a beautiful
moon?" They notice the star first, because it is not usual to see stars
so brilliant. By-and-by, of a moonlight night, you will hear people
say, "What a lovely moon!"
Now, in the daylight people do not say, "What a lovely sun!" No. "What
a lovely landscape! What a beautiful view! Look at the tints of those
trees now the sun is shining!" Just so, the little Christian is like a
star, bright in his little sphere. Others are like the moon, they
excite admiration and attention to themselves. But a full-grown
Christian, who should be perfectly conformed to the image of Christ,
though giving more light than either the moon or the star, would not be
half so much looked at, for men would be looking at what he shed light
upon, rather than upon him. They would look to the doctrine that he
taught rather than to how he taught it. They would be looking rather at
the lesson of his life than at the life itself. So that if I should
urge you to more and more publicity, it will not be for your sake, but
that you may be more and more forgotten, while the Truth of God is the
more clearly seen.
But what is the use of lights, what is the use of Christians as lights?
The answer is manifold. We use lights to make manifest. A Christian man
should so shine in his life that those who come near him can see their
own character in his life, can see their sins, can see their lost
estate. He should so live that a person could not live with him a week
without knowing the Gospel. His conversation should be such that all
who are about him should perfectly understand the way to Heaven. Things
that men will not see and cannot see without him, should be very clear
wherever he is.
Men sometimes read their Bibles and they do not understand the Bible
because they want light. Like Philip, we should be willing to sit in
the chariot and instruct the passerby, making manifest the meaning of
God's Word, the power of God's Word, the way of salvation, the life of
godliness, and the force of the Truth of God. May I ask each one of
you, have you made men understand the Gospel better? "Ah," says one, "I
leave that to the minister." Then you have neglected your duty–repent
of your great sin and ask God, now, to help you to be making manifest
to all persons who come near you their sin and the Savior.
The next use of a light is to guide. The mariner understands this. When
our sailors, some years ago had a Nore light, they thought they were
getting on marvelously. But when they had the Mouse, the Maplin, the
Swin Middle, and all the other lights on the sands, they soon found
navigation much easier than it had been before. Every Christian should
light some part of the voyage of life, and there should not be a
channel without its light. Blessed pole star! How many a slave have you
guided from the swamps and whips of the South up to the country of the
free? Blessed are you, O Christian, if your light has led some soul to
Jesus, to the land of the free, where the slave can never wear his
fetters again. I hope that you have often, when men have scarcely known
it, pointed them the way to Christ, by saying, "Behold the Lamb of
God."
Lights are also used for warning. On our rocks and shoals a lighthouse
is sure to be erected. Christian men should know that there are plenty
of false lights shown everywhere in the world. The wreckers of Satan
are always abroad, tempting the ungodly to sin under the name of
pleasure. We must put up the true light upon every dangerous rock, to
point out every sin and tell what it leads to, so that we may be clear
of the blood of all men, shining as lights in the world.
Lights also have a very cheering influence, and so have Christians.
Late one night we had lost our way in a park not far from the suburbs
of London, and we were walking along and wondering where we were. We
said, "There is a light over there," and you cannot tell what a source
of comfort that candle in a cottage window proved to us. I remember
riding in a third class carriage, crowded full of people, on a dark
night, when a woman at the end of the carriage struck a match and lit a
candle–with what satisfaction was everybody's face lit up, as all
turned to see it. A light really does give great comfort. If you think
it does not, sit in the dark an hour or two. A Christian ought to be a
comforter–with kind words on his lips and sympathy in his heart–he
should have a cheering word for the sons of sorrow.
Light, too, also has its use in rebuking sin. I think our street gas
lamps are the best police we have. If those lamps were out, we should
need ten times the number of watchers, and there would be far more
crimes. Why is it that thieves do not like the light?–because their
dark deeds can only be done in darkness. And how is it ungodly men do
not like Christians? Why, because they rebuke them. And just as lights
tend to make a city safe, and stop robberies and crime, so Christian
men, when they are in sufficient numbers to act upon the commonwealth,
will make crime less common–certainly they will compel it to hide its
deformity under the shadows of night, whereas, before it might have
walked in the blaze of day with approbation.
But the Christian is a light in a very peculiar sense–he is a light
with life in it. Turn the lantern upon that dead man's face. You can
see it cold and white, like the chiseled marble. Shoot the light right
into his eyes. He does not see.
You cannot make him live by the power of any human light. But the
Believer is God's lantern, full of the Holy Spirit– and it happens
often that through our testimony God shoots into the eyes of the dead a
light which makes them live–so that the darkness of Hades gives way to
the brightness of Glory and the midnight darkness of the spirit is made
to fly before the rising Sun of righteousness.
We have dwelt long enough upon the uses of these lights, and I may only
say, in concluding this point, I wonder what is the good of a Christian
who is not thus useful to the world? He has a treasure but he hoards
it. What is the good of misers while they live? They are like swine
which only eat–they are of no service till they die. Then they are cut
up and their estates are pulled into pieces. And perhaps some good may
be gotten by those who gets something to eat from them. Vile is the
wretch who hoards gold, but what is he who hoards bread? The world is
starving and they hoard the Bread of Life. It is like manna–it breeds
worms and they cannot eat it themselves, but they will not give it to
others.
A religion that is no blessing to others, is no blessing to me–I am
just laying up for myself a mass of putridity. It will never do my soul
good, or else it would have compelled me to do good to others. But they
are hoarding water, the Living Water. They are damming up the stream to
keep enough for themselves, and what is it doing? It is covered with
rank weeds. It breeds malaria. It turns foul. All manner of loathsome
creatures are in it. They are more foolish still, they are trying to
hoard up the light, as if they would have any the less if they let
others have it. Hoard up light as if there were only a scant supply.
Infamous! Diabolical! I wish there were a stronger word than that, "If
any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha,"
says Paul. And I question whether that dreadful anathema does not
include within it those who do not love souls, and therefore prove they
do not love Christ. For if they loved Christ they must love sinners. If
they loved Jesus they must seek to extend His kingdom and to let Him
see of the travail of His soul.
III. But time waits not for me and I must proceed to touch with brevity
upon the third point–POSITION INDICATED.
"But," says one, "I cannot shine, it is of no use talking about it, I
am not in a position to do any good." The Apostle anticipates you. He
says, "In the midst of a crooked and perverse nation." "If I were to
remove from this," says one, "I might serve the Lord's cause, but I
cannot where I am." But, dear Friend, you are not to get out of it, you
are to speak for your Lord where you are.
In the midst of that crooked and perverse nation you are to shine as
lights in the world. Your position teaches you three things. First of
all, it should be an incentive to you. The worse the people are among
whom you live, the more need have they of your exertions. If they are
crooked, the more necessity that you should set them straight. And if
they are perverse, the more need have you to turn their proud hearts to
the Truth of God. The worse your position is, the more thankful you
ought to be that you are in it. Where should the physician be but where
there are many sick? Where is honor to be won by the soldier but in the
hottest fire of the battle?
Do not blame your position if you are an unprofitable servant, but lay
the blame upon yourself. If you find it hard to do good where you are,
it will be harder anywhere else. As the bird that wanders from her
nest, so is the man that wanders from his place. Lazy workmen find
fault with their tools and employers. If you transplant a tree to make
it produce more fruit, you may possibly succeed, but there are nine
chances to one that you will kill it altogether.
Again, as you are in such a position, let it administer a caution to
you. They are a crooked and perverse nation, do not wonder, therefore,
if they hate your light and try to blow it out. Be the more anxious not
to give them any unnecessary offense. Let your goodness be the only
fault they can find in you. Ask the Lord to keep your lamp well trimmed
for you. Beseech Him to protect it from their malicious breath. Be the
more anxious to cultivate a close acquaintance with Christ, because a
crooked nation would decoy you from Him. Do not try to please men–make
not the opinion of this generation your rule, for it is very
crooked–and if you travel one way you will not please them unless you
turn the other way, and then turn again to humor their crooks.
One is often amused to find one's self publicly abused for doing the
very thing the opposite of which one was abused for the week before!
And sometimes in the same newspaper article you will nowadays catch the
writer first falling foul with you for doing one thing, and then
falling foul with you for not doing it again. It is a crooked and
perverse nation– the man who tries to please man shall find himself in
a labyrinth of the most mazy kind. He shall be a wretched time server
all his life and a detestable hypocrite even to his death. Such a man,
to use a rustic simile, is like a toad under a harrow, he will have to
be crawling continually to escape the spikes on the right and the iron
ties on the left. And he will probably die a miserable death with the
iron in his soul at the last. Be cautious, but be particularly cautious
against excessive caution. Please the Lord and let men please
themselves.
Once more, while the eyes of perverse men should be an incentive and a
caution to you, do not forget the rich consolation afforded by the fact
that all the saints have endured the like trial. Are you in the midst
of a crooked people? So was Paul. So was the Church at Philippi–so are
all the saints. Remember that as they won their crowns in a strife
which was none of their choosing, so must you. They were not carried on
beds of down to Heaven, and you must not expect to travel more easily
than they. They had to hazard their lives unto the death in the high
places of the field, and you shall not be crowned till you also have
endured hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
The road of your pilgrimage will not be smooth if it is the way of the
Apostles and Prophets. Soft raiment, delicate nursing, dainty feeding
and luxurious ease belong to the palaces of earth–but not to the
company without the camp who bear their Lord's reproach. I charge you,
O servants of the Lord, and you who are members of this Church
especially, stand fast, wait, watch and wrestle. Be steadfast,
unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.
IV. To conclude, there is an ARGUMENT SUGGESTEAD. It is a very
affectionate and touching one which I mean to take the liberty of
applying to you, my Beloved flock. "That I may not run in vain, nor
labor in vain in the day of Christ." The Apostle was the founder of the
Church at Philippi. He had watched over them with all the anxiety of
one who had planted and watered, and who looked for the increase. He
therefore appealed to the affection which he knew they had for him. "I
have run," argues the Apostle, "with all men looking on and
gazing–many of them hating and scoffing. I have run with all my might,
would you have me run in vain? I have labored, I have labored more than
they all," the Apostle could say, "would you have me labor for
nothing?"
He knew the answer they would give him would be, "No, Beloved Paul, we
would see you win the prize for which you did run, and reap the fruit
for which you did labor." "Well," argues the Apostle, "but I cannot,
except you shine as lights in the world. You disappoint my hopes, you
snatch the prize from my grasp, you fill me with anguish, if you are
not holy, heavenly-minded witnesses for Christ." I use the same
argument with you. To the stranger here today it will have no force.
But with many of you I know it will be an argument of power.
How many out of this congregation first learned of Jesus from my lips?
A multitude of you were brought to Christ through the preaching of the
Word here, or in Park Street, or the Surrey Gardens, or Exeter Hall.
The Word was feebly preached in rough language, then, as now–but God
owned it–not to tens nor twenties, but to hundreds yes, to thousands
of you–and, by His Grace, not to you only–but to people in every land
and of every kindred. The Lord has made my spiritual children as many
as the stars of Heaven for multitude. I rejoice, yes, I must rejoice,
when I hear continually of the multitudinous conversions which are
worked by the Holy Spirit through the sermons both printed and
preached.
God is with us and He does not let one Word fall to the ground. But
what if you, as a Church, should be idle? What if your lives should be
unholy? What if you should lack zeal and faith to testify for Christ?
What then? My best expectations are defeated, my life has been a
failure, and all that I have done falls to the ground. I have thought
it in my heart, and I earnestly pray to my God that it may come to pass
that here, as in a barracks, a great army may find its constant lodging
place. That afterwards the Lord may pour you out like a vast conquering
host, upon all parts of the world, to teach and testify, and live and
labor, and speak for Christ. Surely, my Brothers and Sisters, you would
desire this yourselves! I pray for it! Will you unite in desiring it
and praying for it with me?
It has happened of late, especially to me, to see God's hand very
visibly. Never in my experience have I seen so much spiritual activity
as just now, and while it is true of all sections of the Christian
Church, it has been peculiarly so of that section over which it is my
lot to preside. The sermons have been now for eight years scattered in
English, Welsh, French, Dutch, German, Swedish–in fact, in all
Protestant languages. At first there were many conversions–there are
still. Next I find that those who were regular subscribers to the
sermons begin to receive the doctrine of the preacher. The converts to
Christ grow and get clear views of the Truth of God. Even in the point
of Baptism there are great numbers who are convinced that it is most
Scriptural that only Believers should be baptized. Very many have come
here, and in the pool beneath, I have baptized them into the name of
Christ.
Our denomination does not increase. I am not very anxious that it
should, for as it stands at present I have no great love for it. But
our principles are spreading marvelously, and in this I must rejoice.
As the result of this I have constantly letters like this, "Sir, Sir, I
live in a village where the Gospel is not preached. There is a Church,
it is true, but we have a Puseyite clergyman. Cannot you do something
for us? You have many young men training for the ministry, could you
not send a friend to preach in my drawing room?"
Then comes another–"Sir, the Chapel has been shut up in our village a
long time, could you not come and help us?" Then there are many of this
kind–two Christian men write, wishing to be baptized into Christ–they
come, they go back. Within a month there are four more from the same
village. They go back and I almost forget them, but they do not forget
me. Soon, the whole six will write a letter–this is a common
thing–and say, "Could not we be formed into a Church? We will find a
room–can you send someone to preach to us?" This happens every week,
and your minister feels that as long as ever he has a man, he will say,
"I will do it for you." And as long as he has any money of his own he
will say, "Oh, yes, I will do it for you."
But every now and then he wishes that he had some who would stand by
him in larger attempts. Cheerfully you give week after week for the
support of our young ministers, and I think our friends will continue
to do this. At any rate, the Lord will provide and friends far away may
be moved to assist us. I want still more aid, for the field is ripe,
and we want more harvest men to reap it. It grows, the thing
grows–every day it increases. It started but as a little flake of snow
and now like an avalanche it sweeps the Alps' sides bare before its
tremendous force.
I would not now that you should prove unworthy of the day in which you
live, or the work to which God has called us as a Church. Four Churches
of Christ have sprung of our loins in one year and the next year shall
it not be the same? And the next and the next, if the Holy Spirit is
with us, and He has promised to be with us, if we are with Him.
Now, in regard to the particular effort at Wandsworth, for which a
collection is to be made. When I was sore sick some three years or more
ago, I walked about to recover strength and walked through the town of
Wandsworth. I thought, "How few attend a place of worship here. Here
are various Churches but there is ample room for one of our own faith
and order. Something must be done," I thought, "If I could start a man
here preaching the Word, what good might be done." The next day, some
four friends from the town called to see me, one a Baptist and the
three others were desirous of Baptism, "Would I come there and form a
Church?"
We took the large rooms at a tavern and preaching has been carried on
there ever since. Beginning with four, the Church has increased to one
hundred and fifty. I have greatly aided the interest by going there
continually and preaching and helping to support the minister. Now, a
beautiful piece of ground has been taken, and a Chapel is to be
erected, and I firmly believe there will be a very strong cause raised.
We have many rising Churches, but this one has just come to such a
point, that a House of Prayer is absolutely needed. I should not have
asked you for this aid so soon, but the rooms in which they worship are
now continually used for concerts on Saturday evenings and are not
altogether agreeable on Sunday.
I would just as soon worship in one place as another, for my own part,
but I see various difficulties are now in the way, which a new Chapel
will remove. I hope you will help them in so doing. Help me in the
earnest effort of my soul to hold forth the Word of Life and to let
Christ's kingdom come and His will be done. You that feel no desire to
honor the Master–you that care nothing for the spread of His
kingdom–you that are satisfied to hold your heads down and not boast
and glory in Him–stand back and assist us not.
But you who would help His kingdom–you who love His name–you who are
the debtors of His Grace–help the cause everywhere, and help it this
day. For Christ's sake, I ask it of you and by His Grace you will not
deny me.