Comfort To Seekers From What The Lord Has Not Said

Comfort To Seekers From What The Lord Has Not Said
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, MAY 10, 1863, BY THE REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth: I said not
unto the seed of Jacob, Seek you Me in vain." Isaiah 45:19.
WE might gain much solace by considering what God has not said. What He
has said is inexpressibly full of comfort and delight. What He has not
said is scarcely less rich in consolation. It was one of these, "said
nots," which preserved the kingdom of Israel in the days of Jeroboam,
the son of Joash. "The Lord said not that He would blot out the name of
Israel from under Heaven" (2 Kings 14:27). In our text we have an
assurance that God will answer prayer, because He has, "not said unto
the seed of Israel, Seek you My face in vain." You who write bitter
things against yourselves, I would have you remember that. Let your
doubts and fears say what they will, if God has not cut you off from
mercy, there is no room for despair–even the voice of conscience is of
little weight if it is not seconded by the voice of God.
What God has said tremble at! But suffer not your own fears and
suspicions to overwhelm you with despondency and sinful despair. Many
timid persons have been vexed by the suspicion that there may be
something in God's decree which shuts them out from all hope–some
secret, written in the great roll of destiny, which renders it certain
that if they did pray and seek the Lord–He would not be found of them.
Our text is a complete refutation to that troublesome fear. "I have not
spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth. I have not said," even
in the secret of My unsearchable decree, "Seek you My face in vain."
The decrees are "spoken in secret"–the decrees are hidden as, "in a
dark place of the earth."
But it is absolutely certain that the Lord has said nothing in any of
them, or anywhere else, which can be interpreted to mean, "Seek you My
face in vain." Oh, no, Brothers and Sisters, that Truth which God has
so clearly revealed, that He will hear the prayer of those who call
upon Him, cannot be contravened by anything which God may have spoken
elsewhere. He has so firmly, so truthfully, so righteously spoken that
there can be no equivocation. He does not, like the Sibyls, speak
mysteriously with a double tongue. Nor does He, like the Delphic
oracle, reveal His mind in unintelligible words. No, our God speaks
plainly and positively, "Ask, and you shall receive."
O that all of you would accept this sure Truth of God–that prayer must
and shall be heard, and that never, even in the secrets of eternity,
never, even in the council chamber of the Covenant–has the Lord said
unto any living soul, "Seek you My face in vain."
The proposition I come to deal with this morning is this–that those
who seek God, through Jesus Christ, in God's own appointed way, cannot,
by any possibility, seek Him in vain. That earnest, penitent, prayerful
hearts, though they may be delayed for a time, can never be sent away
with a final denial. "He that calls upon the name of the Lord shall be
saved. He that seeks, finds. He that asks, receives. Unto him that
knocks it shall be opened." I shall prove this, first, by the negative,
as our text has it–"I have not said, Seek you Me in vain." And then,
briefly, by the positive. Oh, may God give us His Holy Spirit, that
while I am preaching, comfort may be given to many troubled hearts.
I. First, then, BY THE NEGATIVE. It is not possible that a man should
sincerely, in God's own appointed way, seek for mercy and eternal life
and not find it. It is not possible that a man should earnestly, from
his heart, pray unto God, and yet a gracious answer be finally refused.
And that for several reasons.
1. We will suppose the case–suppose that sincere prayer could be
fruitless–then the question arises, Why, then, are men exhorted to
pray at all? If prayer is not heard, if supplication may possibly end
in a failure, why does God so constantly, so earnestly, so strenuously
constrain and command men to call upon Him? Would it not be a heartless
cruelty on my part, if I saw a poor farmer who could not pay his way,
if I exhorted him to plow upon a rock, and scatter the little seed he
had upon soil where I knew it could never grow? Or if a king imposed
upon his poor subject a law that he should plow the seashore, and
harrow it, and exercise all the arts of husbandry upon it–when he was
perfectly aware that not a single grain could ever bless the farmer's
toil?
What would you think of any man who should advise a thirsty wretch to
pump an empty well? Suppose some sovereign should enjoin it upon his
subject, seeing he is ready to die of thirst, to let the bucket down
where there is no water and to continue to do it without ceasing–to be
always letting down the bucket and always winding it up–with the
absolute certainty that no good can come of it! And do you think that
God, who commands men to pray and not to faint, would bid them do it,
if no harvest could be reaped from it? Does He tell them to continue in
prayer, to, "pray without ceasing"–to watch unto prayer, to arise in
the night watches and cry unto Him–and yet, after all, has He settled
it that He will be deaf to their entreaties and despise their cries?
Would it not be a piece of heartless tyranny if the Queen should wait
upon a man in his condemned cell and encourage him to petition her
favor, no, command him to do it, saying to him, "If I do not send you
at once an answer, send another petition and another. Send to me seven
times, yes, continue to do it, and never cease so long as you live. Be
importunate and you will prevail." And what if the Queen should tell
the man the story of the importunate widow, should describe to him the
case of the man, who, by perseverance, obtained the three loaves for
his weary friend? And then say to him, "Even so, if you ask you shall
receive"? And yet all the while should intend never to pardon the man,
but had determined in her heart that his death warrant should be signed
and sealed and that on the execution morning he should be launched into
eternity?
I ask you, Brothers and Sisters, whether this were consistent with
royal bounty, whether this were fit conduct for a gracious monarch. And
can you for a moment suppose that God would bid you, as He does each
one of you, to seek His face–would He bid you come to Him through
Jesus Christ–and yet, secretly in His heart, intend never to be
gracious at the voice of your cry?
2. Further, for a second argument–if prayer could be offered
continuously, and God could be sought earnestly– but no mercy found,
then he who prays would be worse off than he who does not pray. And
supplication would be an ingenious invention for increasing the ills of
mankind. For a man who does not pray has less woes than a man who does
pray, if God is not the Answerer of prayer. The man who prays is made
to hunger–shall he hunger, and not eat! Were it not, then, better
never to hunger? How, then, can it be said, "Blessed are they that
hunger and thirst after righteousness"? The man who prays, thirsts. As
the hart pants after the water brooks, so he pants after his God.
But if God will never give him the living water to drink, is not a
thirsty soul much more wretched than one who never learned to thirst at
all? He who has been taught to pray has great desires and wants. His
heart is an aching void which the world can never fill. But he that
never prays has no longings after God. He that never makes supplication
feels no ungratified desires after eternal things. If, then, a man may
have these vehement longings, and yet God will never grant them, then
assuredly the man who prays is in a worse position than he who prays
not.
How can this be? Has God so constituted the world that virtue shall
entail misery, and that vice shall engender happiness? Can it be, while
God is the moral Ruler of the universe, that He will reward the man who
forgets Him, and will pour misery into the soul of the man who
earnestly seeks His face? It is blasphemy to suppose it! The beasts in
the field do not lament that they are not immortal, for they never had
aspirations after immortality. A gracious God has limited their
ambition to their attainments–but if the ox could groan after Heaven,
if the sheep could pray for a resurrection– it were a wretched
creature, indeed, to be denied these things.
So the ungodly man, like the beast of the field, has no longing after
God's favor. He has no yearnings after eternal life, no desire to be
conformed to the image of Christ–and his ambitions are so far limited
to what he gains. But shall it be that a soul shall pant to be like
God, shall thirst to be reconciled to his Maker, shall hunger even to
faintness, that he may find, "peace with God through Jesus Christ," and
yet shall such desires as these be only given to make him wretched? I
cannot suppose such a thing! The absurdity of imagining that the man
who does pray, would be by God put in a worse position than the man who
does not, seems to me to be at once convincing that the earnest,
faithful prayer shall certainly, through the merit of Christ, prevail
with God.
3. But I go a step further. If God does not hear prayer, since it is
clear that in that case the praying man would be more wretched than the
careless sinner, then it would follow that God would be the Author of
unnecessary misery. Now we know that this is inconsistent with the
Character of our God. We look around the world and we see punishment
for sin, but no punishment for good desires. We discover that the Fall
has brought us loss and ruin. And we know that there is a dreadful Hell
where justice shall be executed to the uttermost.
But I see no chamber of arbitrary torture, where God, the Almighty,
takes pleasure in the undeserved pangs and unmerited groans of His own
creatures! I do not see a single invention made by God to give pain
unnecessarily. I find not a joint of my body, no, not a sinew or a
muscle, that is intended to cause me anguish. They may all be racked
with aches and pains, since I am a fallen, sinful man. But the body was
not organized with a view to pain, but for pleasure. And do you think
that God would ingeniously put up a Mercy Seat to increase human misery
by a mockery of Divine Grace, a mimicry of bounty?
Do you dream that He would send out commands to men, obedience to which
would entail upon them greater sorrow than disobedience could bring? Do
you think that He would woo them with outstretched hands to be more
wretched than they were before? Would He be so false and heartless as
to bid them come, knowing that their coming would only make them
ten-fold more unhappy than they were already, because He did not intend
to accept them when they did come? He that can think thus of my God
does not know Him. He who could dream that it is possible for Him to
invite and incite in you the prayer He has promised to hear, and yet,
after all, would reject it, must surely be comparing Jehovah to
Juggernaut. He knows not what Jehovah is.
Know you not that prayer, itself, is the work of God? Prayer is not the
act of the creature, but the work of the Creator. Prayer is God in man
coming back to God. Prayer is the fruit of Divine life. And do you
believe that God would Himself write upon the human heart prayers which
He did not intend to hear? Do you think the Holy Spirit would dictate
petitions which God, the Eternal Father, had determined to reject? No,
no, no! We must, from this negative way of reasoning, be persuaded that
our God will hear and answer prayer.
4. Should there still be some desponding ones, who think that God would
invite them to pray and yet reject them, I would put it on another
ground. Would men do so? Would even you, full of sin though you are, so
treat your own fellow creature? I know that we should hold up to scorn
any rich man who should say to beggars in the streets, "I live in
such-and-such a place. It is six miles off. If you will all come
tomorrow morning at eight o'clock and knock at my door, repeating my
son's name, I will supply your wants." And what if, when he had
collected the poor beggars, he should let them stand and knock
according to his bidding till they were weary and never grant them an
answer?
If he should let them know that there was bread within the house, but
not a morsel for them, we should say, "Well, if men must make
themselves merry with practical jokes, let them not be carried out upon
the poor and needy. Let them find some other victims, and let not the
helpless mendicants of the streets be the victims of such foolish
mirth." And shall it be possible for my God to be less generous than
men?
Do we not find continually, if there is an hospital opened to relieve
the sick, or to heal the maimed, that when much injured persons make an
application they are received? I know not that there are any peculiar
hearts of compassion in those who have the oversight of the hospital,
but I do know this–there is so much of the milk of human kindness in
their bosoms, that the moment a poor wretch is brought to the door
almost dead–if it were a slighter case they might take some
exception–the very desperateness of the case throws open the hospital
door, and at once the patient is admitted.
Man is in such a case, near to die, no, condemned and utterly ruined by
his sin–and I do not believe that my God will shut His door in the
face of misery. Rather, I am persuaded that the very desperateness of
the case will make an appeal to His heart and He will fulfill His
promise. It is a low ground to put it on, I will admit, for God is
infinitely more loving than man. "As the heavens are higher than the
earth, so are His ways higher than our ways, and His thoughts than our
thoughts." And if a man would not reject the supplication which he had
himself invited–if a man's heart would be moved to pity by the cry of
misery–much more the heart of the All-Bounteous God, whose very name
is Love, and whose Nature it is to give liberally without upbraiding. I
am persuaded, therefore, that He must, and will hear prayer.
5. Yet further–have you forgotten that this is God's memorial, by
which He is distinguished from the false gods? "They have ears, but
they hear not, hands have they, but they help not their worshippers.
And feet have they, but they come not to the rescue of their votaries.
But our God made the heavens, and this is His memorial, the God that
hears prayer." Has not David put it–"O You that hear prayer, unto You
shall all flesh come"? One of the standing proofs of the Deity of
Jehovah is that He does, to this day, answer the supplications of His
people.
But suppose that any one among you could seek His face day after day,
week after week, and month after month, and yet He should refuse
you–where would His memorial be? O if yonder poor sinner, with tears
and plaintive cries were really to besiege the Mercy Seat in the name
of Jesus, and God, the Almighty Father, should refuse him and drive him
away, I say, where is the boasted name of God? I grant you, the answer
may tarry, but only that it may be the more sweet when it comes. I know
the ships of Heaven may be long upon the voyage, but only that they may
bring a richer cargo to you.
But come they must. "If the vision tarry, wait for it. It shall come.
It shall not tarry." For otherwise, I say, where is the glory of God?
How is He distinguished above Baal? How is He exalted above the gods of
the heathen? Did not Elijah put it to the test? The priests of Baal
cried–they cut themselves with knives. From morning to evening their
shrieks went up to Heaven and the sarcastic Prophet said, "Cry aloud,
for he is a god! Perhaps he is on a journey, or he sleeps and must be
awakened." All day long the lancers drew forth priestly blood. But no
voice came from Baal.
Clear the stage and let God's servant come. He lifts his hands to
Heaven and cries–"Lord God of Abraham, Isaac and of Israel, let it be
known this day that You are God in Israel, and that I am Your servant,
and that I have done all these things at Your word. Hear me, O Lord,
hear me, that this people may know that You are the Lord God, and that
You have turned their heart back again." Down falls the fire of the
Lord, consuming not only the bullock, but the stones of the altar and
the water in the trench! For our God does hear prayer.
Now do you see, Soul, that your despair, when you say He will not hear
you, really takes away from God one of His grandest titles? You do Him
a serious dishonor in supposing that He will refuse to hear you. You
cast mire upon the escutcheon of Deity, and think unworthily of the
Most High when you imagine for an instant that He would teach you to
pray, and come to Him through the blood of Christ–and yet refuse to
hear the voice of your groaning.
6. Surely these arguments might well suffice. But if unbelief has as
many lives as a cat, as John Bunyan says, I will deal it the full nine
blows and one over, to make assurance doubly sure.
If God does not hear prayer–suppose such to be the case for a
moment–then I want to know–what are the meaning of His promises? I
ask, with all reverence, how He shall make His veracity to be proved,
if He does not answer His people? Let me give you one or two of His own
promises–"Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you,
and you shall glorify Me." "He shall call upon Me and I will answer
him." What does this mean, by the mouth of Isaiah–"He will be very
gracious unto you at the voice of your cry. When He shall hear it, He
will answer you." That is neither more nor less than a falsehood, if
God does not hear prayer.
What about this splendid passage–"And it shall come to pass, that
before they call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking I will
hear"? And this by Zechariah–"They shall call on My name and I will
hear them. I will say, It is My people and they shall say, The Lord is
my God"? Can there be words plainer than these, from the lips of the
Savior– "Ask and it shall be given you. Seek and you shall find, knock
and it shall be opened to you. For everyone that asks receives, and he
that seeks finds. And to him that knocks it shall be opened"? Or these,
"If you, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your
children, how much more shall your Father which is in Heaven give good
things to them that ask him?"
And what is the meaning of this great promise–"And all things,
whatsoever you shall ask in prayer, believing, you shall receive"? Are
not these so many arrows shot at the very heart of unbelief? I begin at
that ancient writing, the Book of Job. "He shall pray unto God, and he
will be favorable unto Him, and he shall see His face with joy." The
Psalms are crowded with such promises, and even the Prophet Joel, who
is full of thunder and lightning–even he says, "Whosoever shall call
upon the name of the Lord shall be delivered"–which the Apostle Paul,
in the Epistle to the Romans, varies a little, and puts it–"For
whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved."
Even James, who is all practical, and very little comforting, cannot
get through the Epistle without saying, "Draw near to God and He will
draw near to you." Why, even under the old Law, Deuteronomy had a
promise like this–"If you shall seek the Lord your God, you shall find
Him, if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul." Under
the rule of the kings, we find it written, "If you seek Him, He will be
found of you." So might I go on quoting promises, until you were weary
with hearing my voice. But, my dear Friends, I ask you, if God does not
hear prayer, after saying what I have repeated to you, where is His
truthfulness?
He must be true, if every man is a liar–God's own Word must
stand–though Heaven and earth should pass away. Like flowers, you
nations, you shall die. Like a dream, you kingdoms, you shall melt.
Like a shadow, O you mountains, you shall dissolve. Like a wreck, O
earth, you shall be broken into pieces. Like a worn out gesture, O you
heavens, you shall be rolled up. But every Word of God is sure and
steadfast, "yes, and amen in Christ Jesus." "The voice said, Cry. And I
said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass and all the goodliness
thereof is as the flower of the field. The grass withers and the flower
thereof fades away. But the Word of the Lord endures forever." How can
we find arguments stronger than this?
7. Another stroke. If God has virtually said to us, "Pray, but I will
never hear you. Seek My face in vain," then I ask, what is the meaning
of all the provisions which He has already made for hearing prayer? I
see a way to God. It is paved with stones inlaid in the fair crimson of
the Savior's blood. I see a door. It is the wounded side of Jesus. Why
was that blood shed, if God hears not prayer? Why that side rent if,
after all, the veil still shuts out from access to the Mercy Seat?
Moreover, in Heaven I see a Mediator between God and man. But why a
Mediator, if God will not be at peace with man nor hear his prayer?
Moreover, I see an Intercessor. I see the Son of God stretch His
wounded hands, and point to His side, wearing the jeweled breastplate
on His forefront. But why the breastplate, and why the High Priest, if
prayer is a futile thing, and God has said, "Seek you My face in vain"?
Moreover, I see all the marvelous transactions of the Covenant from
first to last. And I ask, Why all this, if it is not meant for sinners
who seek His face? Moreover, I see the blessed Spirit. He, Himself,
condescends to dwell in us, and make, "intercession for us with
groaning which cannot be uttered." And I ask of you, O Melancholy and
Despair, why was this Spirit sent? Why this blood shed? Why this Savior
ordained and exalted on high, "to give repentance and remission of
sins," if remission is never to be given, repentance never to be
accepted and intercession never to be heard?
By every wound of Jesus I beg you, Sinner, to believe that God will
hear you! By every drop of that precious blood, by every cry of those
dying lips, by every tear of those languid eyes, by every smart of that
bruised back, by every jewel of that crown of glory, by every precious
stone upon that priestly breastplate, by every honor which God the
Father has bestowed upon our Lord Jesus–yes, by all the power of the
blessed Spirit, by all the energy with which He raised Christ from the
dead, by all the "power" with which He is acknowledged to be God–I do
beg you to never doubt but that God will in due time be gracious to the
voice of your cry.
8. Still to pursue this dying foe, whom methinks we might have slain
outright by this time, I use the argument which the Apostle uses upon
the resurrection. If God does not hear prayer, what Gospel have I to
preach? As the Apostle said, concerning the resurrection, "Then is our
preaching vain and your faith is also vain. You are yet in your sins."
If God does not hear prayer, I say, our preaching is in vain. We are
sent to tell men that, "though their sins are as scarlet, they shall be
as wool. Though they are red like crimson, they shall be whiter than
snow"–if they will turn from their evil ways, and seek the Lord.
But if they can turn, and yet not be accepted, I, for my part, renounce
my commission, for I have not a Gospel that is worth the preaching. And
surely you would say, "It is not a Gospel worth our acceptance." If
prayer, offered in Jesus' name, is not accepted, taking Paul's line of
argument, then Christ is not accepted. If the sinner's plea, "for
Jesus' sake," is not heard, then is Christ not heard? And if Christ is
not heard and accepted, then our preaching is in vain, and your faith
is in vain. Yes, and we are found false witnesses for God, because we
have testified of God that He hears the intercession of Jesus, whom He
hears not if He hear not those who plead His name.
9. Further, my Brothers and Sisters–and here we strike the ninth
blow–if this could be removed, where is the Believer's hope? Hang the
heavens in sackcloth, let the sun be turned to darkness, let the moon
become a clot of blood if the Mercy Seat can be proved to be a mockery!
Oh, if God would let His people cry and not be gracious, better for us
that we had never been born! The most happy saint, in his best moment,
would be as wretched as the damned in Hell, if he were persuaded that
God did not, and could not, hear prayer.
What would we have to comfort us in our hours of trouble, what to
strengthen us in our times of labor, what refuge from the storm, what
cover from the heat? Where, where, my Brothers and Sisters, could we
fly, if the Throne of Grace were a fiction? Heaven, surely, is shut,
when the gate of prayer is shut. Surely every blessing will pass away
at once, when prayer ceases to avail. The ladder which Jacob saw would
be drawn up into Heaven, and from now on, there would be no communion
between God and man. Glory be to God, such a thing cannot be! Sinner,
you think that God would never hurt His saints, but that He would
reject you. But see, if He refuses to hear you, the rule is broken, and
the rule, being once broken–there being one exception–the whole
stability of the saints' comfort is removed at a blow.
10. I close this negative view of the subject by asking, in the tenth
place, What would they say in Hell if a soul could really seek the Lord
and be refused? Oh, the unholy merriment of devils! "Here's a soul,"
says one, "that perished, though it prayed! Here's a hand that touched
the hem of Jesus' garment, but that garment did not heal! Here are lips
scorched with burning fire which once were warm with living prayer."
Methinks they would drag such a one in triumph through the streets of
Tophet. They would crowd the thoroughfares to look on. And oh, what
dread acclaim of scorn!
What thundering laughter would go up! "Aha! Aha! Aha," they would say,
"Where is the boasted Savior now? He lied unto men's souls! He
promised, but He did not give. He taught them to pray–and made them
begin their Hell on earth–and then threw them into Hell forever."
Could it be? Oh, could it be? What would praying men do in Hell? I
remember that story of Mrs. Ryland, a good Christian woman, who, when
she lay dying, was very, very sad, and her husband said to her, "You
are dying, my Dear?" "Yes," she said. "And where are you going?" he
asked. She replied, "Ah, John, I'm going to Hell."
"And what will you do there?" he asked her. Well, that had not struck
her, what she should do there. "Do you think," he asked, "you will
leave off praying, Betsy?" "No, John," she said, "even if I were in
Hell, I would pray." "Oh, but," said he, "they'd say, 'Here's praying
Betsy Ryland here–turn her out–this isn't a fit place for her.' " And
so me-thinks if one of you could go there with a prayer upon your lips,
pleading and crying, they would either rejoice over you, as a proof
that God was not true, or else they would say, "Turn her out. We cannot
bear prayers in Hell. We could not bear to hear the voice of earnest
supplication among the shrieks and curses of lost spirits."
I have been arguing against a thing which you know theoretically is not
possible. But yet there are some who, when they are under conviction of
sin, still cleave to this dark delusion–that God will not hear them.
Therefore, I have tried by blow after blow, if possible, to smite this
fear dead. When Jael did but take one nail and hammer, she was able to
smite Sisera through his brain with it. Since I have used ten nails,
and have given the ten as lusty strokes with the hammer as I could give
them, O may God make them strong enough to strike the Sisera of
unbelief dead at your feet!
11. Now, for a very little time, THE POSITIVE VIEW OF THE QUESTION.
That the Lord does hear prayer, we think, may be positively
substantiated by the following considerations:
For the Lord to hear prayer is consistent with His Nature. Whatever is
consistent with God's Nature, in the view of a sound judgment, we
believe is true. Now, we cannot perceive any attribute of God which
would stand in the way of His hearing prayer. It might be supposed that
His justice would. But that has been so satisfied by the atonement of
Christ, that it rather pleads the other way. Since Christ has "put away
sin," since He has purchased the blessing, it seems but just that God
should accept those for whom Jesus died, and give the blessing which
Christ has bought.
All the attributes of God say to a sinner, "Come, come! Come to the
Throne of Grace, and you shall have what you want." Power puts out his
strong arm and cries, "I will help you! Fear not." Love smiles through
her bright eyes, and cries, "I have loved you with an everlasting love,
therefore with the hands of kindness have I drawn you." Truth speaks in
her clear, plain language, saying, "He that seeks finds. To him that
knocks it shall be opened." Immutability says, "I am God. I change not.
Therefore you are not consumed." Every single attribute of the Divine
Character–you can think of these as well as I can–pleads for the man
who prays, and I do not know–I never dreamed of a single attribute of
Deity which could enter an objection. Therefore, methinks if the thing
really will glorify God, and not dishonor Him, He will certainly do it.
"Oh, but," you say, "I am such a great sinner." That gives me another
argument. Would it not greatly extol the love and the Grace of God for
Him to give His Grace to those that deserve it least? To give to a man
what he deserves is no charity. To bestow a favor upon those who have a
little offended, is no very great act of beneficence. But to choose out
the biggest rebel in His dominions, and to say to that rebel, "I
forgive you"! Yes, to take that rebel, and to adopt him into His
family, adorn him with jewels, and set a crown of gold upon his
head–is this the manner of men, O Lord God? No, it is in such cases
that we see the broad distinction between the leniency of human
sovereigns, and the mighty Sovereign Grace which is in the King of
kings.
The worse you make your case out to be, the better is my argument. The
worse the disease, the more credit to the physician who heals. The
worse the sin, the more glory to the astounding mercy which puts it
away! The greater the rebel, the more triumphant that Divine Grace
which makes that rebel into a child of God. I say that the greatness of
your sin may act as a foil to set forth the brightness of God's love.
And herein, because the hearing of your unworthy prayers, and the
listening to the cry that comes out of your polluted lips–because this
would honor Him–I am persuaded He will do it.
Further, though these two reasons would suffice, let me notice that it
is harmonious with all His past actions. If you want a history of God's
dealings with men, turn to the 107th Psalm. There you find travelers
lost, like you, in a desert. They wander in a wilderness in a solitary
way. They find no city to dwell in. The water is spent in the bottle.
The bread is exhausted from the camels' backs. They find no well. They
perceive no way–they follow this path, then that. At last, hungry and
thirsty, their souls fainted within them, up from the desert's parched
sand there arose to the burning sky the voice of wailing, "O God, spare
us and let us live."
How is it written? "He delivered them out of their distresses. And He
led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of
habitation." For it says, "He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the
hungry soul with goodness." That is not told us as the exception, but
as the rule. This is God's way of dealing with men. When they are lost
and turn to Him, He hears them. "Ah," you say, "I am lost, but I am not
like those travelers. I am lost by reason of my own sin."
The next case in this Psalm will suit you. Here we find rebels brought
into prison. They have been rebelling against the Word of God, and they
have condemned the counsel of the Most High. Therefore He brought them
down by labor. They fell down, and there was none to help. Then they
cried unto God in their trouble. Did He hear them? These were "rebels,"
fitly and properly put in prison, justly and rightly fettered with
iron. Do you wear the fetters of conscience and the chains of terror?
Are you in the prison of the Law? So long as you are not in the final
prison of Hell, if you call upon God in your trouble, you will find it
with you as it was with them. "He brought them out of darkness and the
shadow of death, and broke their bands in sunder."
"Oh, but," says another, "I have got into trouble through my sin. But I
do not know how to pray as I should, I am such a stupid blockhead."
Then the next case is yours. "Fools because of their transgression, and
because of their iniquities, are afflicted." One of these "fools" had
brought on disease by his sin, and he was so sorely sick that he lost
all appetite. He abhorred all manner of meat and drew near to the gates
of death. This fool, what sort of prayer did he pray? Why, a fool's
prayer, certainly. But even a fool's prayer God will hear, as it is
written, "He sent His Word and healed them and delivered them from
their destructions." So, if you are ever so great a fool, and the
suffering you now feel has been brought on you through your own folly,
yet He will hear you.
"Ah, but," you say, "I have been such a bragging fellow, such a
boaster. And I have done such terrible deeds in my day." What is the
next case? The case of the sailor. You know, we generally reckon that
seafaring men do not care for much. They are daredevils and rap out an
oath without compunction. And in the olden times, I dare say, they were
worse than they are now, so that when they did get ashore they were a
very pattern of everything mischievous and bad. But here we have a crew
of sailors in a storm. They had, no doubt, been cursing and swearing in
the calm, but here comes a storm.
They go up to Heaven, and then they go down again into the
depths–"They reel to and fro and stagger like a drunken man," for they
cannot walk across the deck. The ship reels, "they are at their wits
end," and they think, "Surely she will go to the bottom." Then they cry
unto God. There was no chaplain on board. Who prayed? Why, the
boatswain, and the captain, and the crew–and I dare say they did not
know how to put the words together. They were more used to swearing
than to praying–but they went down on their knees on deck–clinging to
mast and bulwark and tiller, and they cried, "O God! O God! Save us!
The ocean swallows us up! God of the tempest deliver us."
And did He hear the sailor's prayer? Did He hear the cries, the frantic
cries, of sinking men? Read here. "He makes the storm a calm, so that
the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they are quiet.
So He brings them unto their desired haven." Well now, you that have
been accustomed to cursing and swearing, and say, "What is the use of
my praying?" here is a case which just suits you. And this is the rule,
I say again, not the exception. And I argue, therefore, from the past
acts and ways of God, that He does hear prayer.
Besides, here is another argument for you. What does He mean by His
promises? As I said negatively, if He did not hear, where are His
promises? So I say positively this time, because of His promises, He
must hear. God is free, but His promises bind Him. God may do as He
wills, but He always wills to do what He has said He will do. We have
no claim upon God, but God makes a claim for us. When He gives a
promise, we may confidently plead it. I venture to say that promises
made in Scripture are God's engagements, and that as no honorable man
ever runs back from his engagements, so a God of honor and a God of
truth cannot, from the necessity of His Nature, suffer one of His Words
to fall to the ground.
In this little book, Clarke's Promises, which one likes to have always
near, you find two or three chapters containing collected promises of
the Lord–that He will answer secret prayer and listen to the voice of
penitents. But I shall not occupy our time with promises which you can
find in your Bibles at home. Only "let God be true and every man a
liar." If God promises, He must and will perform, or else He were not
true. While we dare to say that God's answering prayer is certified by
abundance of facts in our own experience, we observe that the best
proof is to try for yourself. It is said that there is no learning to
ride except on a horse's back. And I believe there is no learning any
Truth of God except by experiencing it.
If you want to know the depravity of the human heart, you must find it
out when you look at your daily imperfections. And if you would know
that God hears prayer, you must test the fact, for you will never learn
it through my saying, "He heard me"–you will only know it through His
having heard you. And I would, therefore, exhort you–all of you who
are now within reach of this voice of mine. Since it is not a perhaps,
a chance, a maybe, a haphazard–but since it is a dead–I must not use
that word–since it is a living certainty, that, "he that asks
receives, and he that seeks finds," go to your houses, fall upon your
knees and pray to God!
Pray to Him even now in your pews, to save your souls. Ambition tempts
you to disappointment. Riches charm you to speculations which will lead
to failure. Your own passions drive you to pleasures which end in pain.
The best the world can promise you is a perhaps. But my Master presents
to you, "the sure mercies of David"–certainties–infallible
certainties. Will you not have them? O may the Spirit of God lead you
to accept them. In your pew you may pray! In that aisle the silent cry
may go up to Heaven! In your little narrow chamber, or in the saw pit,
or in the garden, or the field, or in the street, or in the prison
cell–wherever you have a heart to pray, God has an ear to hear.
No words are wanting, except such as spring spontaneously to the lips.
Tell Him you are a wretch undone without His Sovereign Grace. Tell Him
you have no hope in yourself. Tell Him you have no merits! Tell Him you
cannot save yourself. Say, "Lord, save, or I perish!" It was Peter's
sinking prayer. But it preserved him from drowning. Say, "God be
merciful to me, a sinner"! It was the publican's prayer in the temple.
It justified him.
Bring a suffering Savior before a gracious God–point to the wounds of
Jesus, and say, "O God! Though my heart is hard as a millstone,
Christ's heart was broken. Though my conscience is not tender and is
callous, yet the flesh of Christ was tender and it smarted sorely.
Though I can give no atonement, Christ gave it–though I bring no
merits, yet I plead the merits of Jesus." And let me say to you, pray
as if you meant it, and continue as Elijah did, till you get the
blessing.
I would to God that some of you would never rise from your knees till
God has heard you! Plead with Him as a man pleads for his life! Clutch
the horns of the altar as the drowning man clutches the life buoy to
which he clings. Lay hold on God, as Jacob grasped the angel–and do
not let Him go until He blesses you, for "thus says the Lord, I have
not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth. I said NOT unto the
seed of Jacob, seek you My face in vain"!