Inward Conflicts
DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 9, 1864,
BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon
you. What will you see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two
armies. Song of Solomon 6:13.
THIS verse is not addressed to the Church in her doubting state, nor
while seeking her absent Lord, but it refers to her in her very best
condition–when she has lately come from the enjoyment of fellowship
with her Divine spouse and when her soul, in consequence is like the
chariots of Amminadib. Read the context and you will perceive that
Believers who are rejoicing in the Lord may look upon this text as
their own. Observe the title of the person addressed–it is a marriage
name. She has been espoused to Solomon and she has taken his name and
become Solyma, for such is the best rendering of the word rendered
Shulamite. This name is appropriate to souls who are united to Christ,
to those whom Christ has betrothed unto Himself in righteousness, who
live in union with their Lord.
You who abide in the Lord Jesus are, by a mysterious bond, made one
with Christ. And He has conferred upon you His own name–He is Solomon
and you are Solyma. That is a remarkable expression in the book of
Jeremiah–"This is her name whereby she shall be called, the Lord our
Righteousness." One would have thought that such a title was
incommunicable. But yet so close is the union between Christ and His
people that the Holy Spirit actually transfers that dignified
expression, "Lord our Righteousness," to His Israel–His Beloved.
The title Solyma also signifies both perfection and peace. There is
perfection in every child of God, but not a perfection in the flesh. We
are perfect in Christ Jesus! We are complete in Him–spotless, by being
washed in His blood– glorious, by being robed in His righteousness.
Every child of God is right sumptuously arrayed in the wedding dress of
the Savior's righteousness. We may truly say that, "Solomon in all his
glory was not arrayed like one of these." Every Believer stands in
Christ perfectly accepted!
The sweet name, Solyma, also signifies peace–"Therefore being
justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ our
Lord." The true heir of Heaven is not at enmity with God, nor at war
with his own conscience. The silver trumpet has proclaimed an
everlasting peace. God's sword has been sheathed in the Savior's heart
and Divine Justice is on the side of the chosen people. The request of
the text next demands a moment's consideration. It is repeated four
times. "Return, return, O Solyma. Return, return, that we may look upon
you." Does not this request proceed from the daughters of Jerusalem who
desire to behold her beauty?
Souls that are anxious about their own state may well desire to
understand the experience of the true child of God. You want to know
whether you, also, are a Christian, therefore you want to know how
Christians feel, how they think of Christ, how they are moved by His
Spirit–what is their appearance when His love is shed abroad in their
hearts. You anxiously desire to see the true Christian that you may
measure yourselves and see whether there is the life of God in you.
These daughters of Jerusalem also desire to look upon her for their own
delight. For as to gaze upon beauty is exceedingly pleasant–so is it
specially delightful to the pure in heart to have fellowship with the
pure in heart–to see the fruits which the Spirit has brought forth. To
behold the cleanness of the Believer's walk and to know the savor of
the Believer's conversation.
No beauty equals the beauty of holiness! Nothing is so lovely as
uprightness. And therefore we wonder not that four times the request is
made. Perhaps, too, these daughters wanted to look at her as an example
to themselves. Saints look upon the beauty of others that they may be
enabled to emulate their excellencies. Let us read with affectionate
attention the biographies of holy men that they may be a stimulus to
ourselves, exciting us to exert ourselves in the Redeemer's cause and
may afford us some hope that the highest Christian attainments are not
altogether beyond our reach. I think this is the reason why the
daughters of Jerusalem said, "Return, return, O Solyma"–they would
comfort themselves by seeing whether they are like she is.
They would delight themselves by beholding her perfections. They would
also stir up their own souls by seeing her example. The rest of the
text, you will observe, may be considered two ways–either the spouse
asks the question, which is the most probable. She says, "What shall
you see in Solyma?" She thinks that there is no beauty in her, nothing
in her that anyone should delight, or fix his eyes upon her, or derive
any profit from regarding her. "Why," she says, "all that You will see
in me is a company of two armies–a conflict between good and evil. If
You look upon me You see nothing but good and evil fighting together,
darkness and light contending. I am not worth Your looking at."
And so she would gladly veil her face and go away if it were not for
the earnest request which seems to hold her fast–or as some think,
this question is asked by bystanders and is answered by the daughters
of Jerusalem–"What shall you see in the Shulamite?" the giddy crowd
enquires. And instructed Believers cry, "We shall see in her the
concurrence of two triumphant armies returning as choristers with music
and with dancing, from the field of battle! We shall see in her the
King immortal, invisible, with all His hosts of Grace! We shall see in
her the purified soul co-working with the glorious Savior! We shall see
in the Christian Church the activity of sanctified manhood, combined
with the majestic power of Deity residing within."
This is what she might not say of herself. But what they would see in
her. Observe, then, the two meanings and let us dismiss the second
until another occasion. There is in every Christian a sweet composition
of Christ's power and of the activity of his own soul. There is the
power of God and there is the creature himself made willing in the day
of God's power. There is in the Christian, God working in him to will
and to do of His own good pleasure and the man himself working out his
own salvation with fear and trembling. In the Christian Church there is
man working for God and God working in man–and all this in such a
joyful manner as to be rather resembling the triumph of returning
conquerors than the going forth to fight of those who make war. What
shall we see in Solyma? We shall see the blessed confluence of the two
great armies of sanctified humanity and of God made flesh!
But we are now coming to take the text in the first sense–the Church
blushingly declares that there is nothing to be seen in her except
conflict, turmoil, the wrestling of two great powers–two mighty armies
contending for the mastery. Upon this point may God give us light for
the comfort of many who are passing through this stage of Christian
experience.
I. We shall, at the outset, this morning, first call upon you who know
the Lord to OBSERVE THE FACT OF THE TWO ARMIES IN EVERY CHRISTIAN. This
is very evident, but to aid your reflections let me remind you
throughout this very book you see traces of it. This Canticle is a
marriage song–it therefore speaks less of the battlefield than some
other portions of Scripture, for at the marriage feast allusions to
trial and to warfare ought to be few.
Yet, that the Church is not altogether sanctified is clear if you note
such passages as the fifth verse of the first chapter. "I am black,"
she says, "but lovely, O you daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of
Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon." She is black–here is her natural
state–here we have the manifestation of her continued depravity of
heart. "I am black, but lovely"–here is her spiritual condition–the
Spirit of God has clothed her with beauteous graces–Christ has washed
her and made her fair in His sight. "I am like the tents of Kedar," she
says, "the smoke-dried curtains of those Arab wanderers who dwelt in
this country set forth my sinfulness."
And yet in Christ she compares herself to those embroidered curtains,
heavy with gold and silver threads which hang about the throne of
Solomon. In the third chapter she plainly proves that she is not always
enjoying fellowship, but is in a mixed condition. "By night on my
bed"–here is her slothfulness–"I sought Him whom my soul loves"–here
is her activity. "I sought Him"–here is her desire–"but I found Him
not"–here is her sad experience of His absence. Then in the fifth
chapter, the second verse, there is a singular commixture. "I sleep"–I
am sluggish, cold, dead, lethargic– "but my heart wakes"–the inward
principle is still vital, still panting after something better.
We find her in the third verse making vain excuses for not opening to
her Lord. But before long you come to the fifth verse and you find her
opening to her Beloved, though her Beloved has withdrawn–refusing but
soon complying. The two natures battling. The one fast closing the door
and the other opening it and seeking the Beloved with tearful
complaint. Throughout the Song there is always this mixture. But, as I
have said, we cannot expect to find much of this in a nuptial ode.
Turn, therefore, to the great Book of battle songs, the book of Psalms,
and here you have in almost every Psalm indications of the complexity
of the Christian character. So strange are some of the Psalms that it
has been well said they might have been written rather by two persons
than by one. David will begin out of the very depths calling unto God
and then he will end with all the jubilant notes of a conqueror leading
captivity captive. I shall not have time to refer to many passages, but
the forty-second Psalm will strike you where the one David seems to be
reasoning with another David.
"Why are you cast down, O my Soul? And why are you disquieted within
me? Hope you in God: for I shall yet praise Him." And the next Psalm is
much to the same effect. Perhaps, however, the most eminent and
striking paradox of the whole is the seventy-third Psalm, the
twenty-second verse, There he says of himself, "So foolish was I and
ignorant: I was as a beast before You." He could not go further than
that, surely, in a description of himself. "Nevertheless, I am
continually with You: You have held me by my right hand. You shall
guide me with Your counsel and afterward receive me to Glory. Whom have
I in Heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire beside
You."
Heavy as a stone he lies embedded in the mire and yet all of a sudden
he takes wings to himself and outstrips the eagle's flight as he loses
himself in the splendor of the Sun of Righteousness, mounting so high
as to be entirely lost to all but God! David's experience, as we find
it pictured to us in the Psalms, is but our own, written out in large
capital letters! And here we see what strange incongruities, what
marvelous paradoxes are found in men. If we need still further
instruction upon this matter, let me refer you to the Epistles of our
Apostle Paul.
I read in your hearing just now that extraordinary passage in the
seventh of Romans. How could there have been more graphically described
than we have there, the war and the contention which is always going on
between the old nature and the Divine life which God has implanted
within us? To the like effect is the seventeenth verse of the fifth
chapter of the Galatians, where he says, "For the flesh lusts against
the Spirit and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the
one to the other: so that you cannot do the things that you would."
We are carnal and yet spiritual–lost in self yet saved in Christ. We
are all imperfections and yet perfect– incomplete in all things and
yet complete in everything! Strange contradictions, but yet most
strangely true! Another evidence of this matter is the concurrent
experience of saved souls. I thought of just taking down at random
biographies from my library shelves and writing out passages, but I had
scarcely time for that. In truth you have but to read the truthful life
of any Christian man and you soon find that he is not all Spirit but
also flesh–not all renewed nature but still compassed with infirmity.
We have whole volumes upon this subject. There is "Bunyan's Holy War,"
describing God's conquest of the town of Mansoul and its subsequent
attacks by sins lurking within and foes storming without. Sable's book,
"The Soul's Conflict," contains a mass of experimental knowledge. But
you will perhaps feel more pleased if I give you, instead of word
prose, one or two expressions in the form of rhyme which will show you
that our hymn-writers–they that should be among the more joyous of the
Christian Church–have been compelled, sometimes, to sing paradoxes
concerning themselves.
Ralph Erskine has left us that strange work, "The Believer's Riddle,"
the greatest riddle that was ever written, a perfect maze to all but
those who have the clue within. He says–
"My heart's a mirror, dim and bright, A compound strange of day and
night, Of dung and diamonds, dross and gold, Of summer's heat and
winter's cold." Hart, whose hymns come, indeed, from the heart–rightly
named was he–in his hymn called "The Paradox," says–
"How strange is the course that a Christian must steer,
How perplexed is the path he must tread.
The hope of his happiness rises from fear,
And his life he receives from the dead.
His fairest pretensions must wholly be waved,
And his best resolutions be crossed.
Nor can he expect to be perfectly sa ved
Till he finds himself utterly lost.
When all this is done and his heart is assured,
Of the total remission of sins
When his pardon is signed and his peace is procured,
From that moment his conflict begins."
We have that hymn of Newton's, which you will find in your Rippon's
Selection–
"I would, but cannot sing,
I would, but cannot pray," and so on. Still more remarkable is that
hymn–
"I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith and love and every Grace.
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek more earnestly His face."
But I need not repeat it, because you have it in your books.
You will there find that instead of God's working in the way in which
he expected, the singer was made to feel the hidden evils of his heart
and so he was humbled and brought in true penitence nearer to God.
Cowper thus sings of himself in a hymn which is also in your book–
"The Lord will happiness Divine
On contrite hearts bestow.
Then tell me, gracious God, is mine
A contrite heart or no?
I sometimes think myself inclined
To love You, if I could.
But often feel another mind,
Averse to all that's good.
My best desires are faint and few,
I gladly would strive for more!
But, when I cry,
'My strength renew,'
Seem weaker than before.
O make this heart rejoice or ache!
Decide this doubt for me;
And, if it is not broken, break,
And heal it, if it be."
Thus, if time did not fail us, we might go through all those men who
have at any time served the Church of God and say of them all that they
have experienced, felt and confessed a struggle and a conflict between
what God has implanted and what nature has left in them. Nor do I
think, dear Friends, that we ought at all to wonder at this. It sounds
strange in the carnal ear, but we ought not to marvel, for this is only
according to the analogy of nature. If you look abroad, you will
discern everywhere contending forces–and out of these contending
forces the rule of nature comes.
See yonder orbs–moved by a mysterious impulse they seek to fly off
into space–but the sun holds them by invisible bands. The bands of the
sun's attraction would draw them at once into his heat, but on the
other hand the centrifugal force would drive them far away into distant
space! Between these two they keep the circular orbit which God has at
present appointed. So we have a corrupt nature within us which would
drive us to sin and on the other hand the Divine power within would
draw us into perfect conformity and union with Christ! Between those
two forces the Christian life becomes much what it is.
Observe how in this word death and life are contending together. Death
crowds his graves, but Life wins the victory. Death may toll the knell
and this is his note of triumph. But every cry of every new-born infant
is another shout of the battle of life in which Life still claims to be
victorious! Look at your own persons and in your own bodies you see
this duplex action. You breathe, but the same lungs which receive the
fresh, pure air, give forth the noxious vapor. There is scarcely an
organ of the body which is without an apparatus for the secretion of an
injurious substance and its expulsion.
The brightest eye that ever swam in light casts forth some defilement.
The skin, if it is healthful, has a part of its functions to throw off
from us that which would certainly breed disease. There is going on in
every human body a strange conflict between life and death. And every
moment our life stands, as it were, in the center of two great armies
who are contending whether we should be the prey of the worm, or should
still continue to breathe!
Do you wonder, therefore, if the whole world of nature is, or has
fallen into this state that man, the little world, should be the same?
Wonder or not, certain it is that it is so. And let those who have been
staggered because they have felt a battle within, from this time forth
rather rejoice because this is the path which all the people of God
have trod before!
II. Now concerning THE ORIGIN OF THIS CONFLICT. There is but a slight
battle in an unrenewed man. There is a sort of conflict of a minor kind
between conscience and his grosser passions. Even Ovid could speak of
this and several heathen writers confess a war within. But there is no
conflict to any high degree in the ungodly man because, while the armed
strong man keeps his house, his goods are at peace.
While there is one master, a man may cheerfully serve him. But in the
moment of regeneration, a new master comes into the house–a stronger
than he has come and He will bind the strong man! And after many
conflicts, He will cast him out forever and get that house to be in his
own possession. The new nature which God implants in His people is
directly the opposite of the old one. As the old nature comes of Satan,
being defiled and depraved by the Fall, so the new nature comes direct
from Heaven, pure and without spot.
As the old nature is sin, is essentially sin, so the new nature is
essentially Divine Grace–it is a living and incorruptible seed which
lives and abides forever–a seed which cannot sin because it is born of
God. When these two, therefore, come into conflict, it is as when fire
and water meet–either the one or the other must die. There can be no
truce, no parley. The two are deadly foes. The life of the one is the
death of the other. The strength of the one the weakness of the other.
Now the old nature has been there beforehand. It is like a tree well
rooted–it has been there twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, or sixty years
according to the date of conversion–and it is not easily torn up by
its roots. Even when Grace comes into the heart and makes sin fall, as
Dagon did before the ark of God, yet is it true of sin as it was of
Dagon–the stump is left and there is still enough vitality in that old
stump to breed pain and confusion without limit. The reigning power of
sin falls dead the moment a man is converted, but the struggling power
of sin does not die until the man dies.
Bunyan said that unbelief had as many lives as a cat and sin has the
same vitality. Until we are wrapped in our winding-sheets, we shall
never have that black thread of depravity drawn out from us. It will,
it must continue to be there till God shall sanctify us–spirit, soul
and body–and take us Home. Remember how pure the new life is which God
has given you! It is from God Himself–an emanation from His Spirit as
pure as Deity! And think how sinful, on the other hand, is your corrupt
nature! Can it be possible that these two should be at peace? Can two
walk together except they are agreed?
Can these two principles, which are entirely opposed to one another, by
any chance live at peace? It cannot be! And even if it could be, there
are allies without who will never be quiet! There is Satan, who will
never rest from stirring up our corruptions. And on the other hand
there is the Holy Spirit, who will never pause in the putting forth of
His Divine power till all evil is cast out, root and branch. Since
these two must fight–the Spirit of God and the spirit of evil–so the
two principles within which are their children must continue in
conflict till our dying day.
Here, then, is the source of this conflict. O my dear Hearers, some of
you do not know anything about this! Remember, you are in the gall of
bitterness if you do not. If you are all one way, then you are all the
wrong way. If there is in you no conflict, it is because there is no
Divine power there to drive the Evil One out. The more of these wars
and fights you feel, the more have you cause to thank God and take
courage! The battle is not yours, but God's. You are not alone in this
warfare–you shall overcome, as thousands have done before you–through
the blood of the Lamb!
III. This brings us to a third reflection. Let us for a moment consider
THE REALITY OF THIS CONFLICT. The warfare in the Christian mind is not
a thing of imagination, it is most true and real. If you want proof of
it you must pass through it. Did you ever kneel down in an agony of
spirit, resisting some furious temptation from within? Some of us know
what it is to feel the cold sweat running down our brows when we have
to fight against ourselves in fearful struggles against black thoughts
of unbelief.
Perhaps it may be that the base heart within has even doubted the
existence of God and dared to prompt us to defy the Deity. And we have
loathed that thought and hated it so much that our whole spirit was put
to the utmost stretch of tension in order to win a victory over
ourselves. You must, if you are at all subject to strong emotions, have
felt that this struggle was a terrible fact. To you there could be no
doubt about it, for your whole soul felt it–your heart was like a
field which is torn up and soaked with blood by the fury of battle.
There is a frightful reality in this conflict when we remember how some
Christians fall during it and sin gets the mastery.
Remember, sin may win a battle, but it cannot win the campaign. What?
Were there no corruptions in David? What do you think made him sin with
Bathsheba? Was there no corrupt heart left in Noah when he was naked to
his shame? Was there no corruption in Lot when he sinned in the cave?
Why, those black things which have stained the character of these holy
men throughout all time prove to us how dreadful must be the power of
sin and how mighty must be the power which keeps sin down!
Remember what the joy of a Christian is when he feels that he has
triumphed over sin. Ah, there is something real here! If the daughters
of Jerusalem praised David when he came back with Goliath's head, so do
all our powers bless and praise God when he gives us the neck of our
spiritual enemies. Like the songsters of old, we sing, "O my Soul, you
have trod down strength." These are no fictions or imaginations of a
poetic and fevered brain–he that has once been along the road to
Heaven knows that above all things the traveler has need to be on the
watch against himself.
IV. In the fourth place, let us notice THE CHANGES WHICH TAKE PLACE IN
THIS WARFARE. The conflict in a Christian is not always carried on with
the same fury. There is always war, but there is not always battle. The
flesh always hates the Spirit and the Spirit is always the opponent of
the flesh. But they are not always fighting, and when they fight it is
not always with the same fury. You ask why? Well, sometimes the flesh
is not so powerful as at other times. There are moments when, if sin
were in the Christian's way, the flesh would not choose it.
I may not be able to tell you exactly why, but certain it is that
partly from changes of body and also from certain phenomena of mind,
there are seasons when the propensities to evil, though still as evil,
are not so vigorous as they were–their strength is awful, but it
sleeps. The young lion is ever a lion. But its claws are concealed and
it plays like a lamb. The raging sea is not always in tempest, yet
tempests sleep in its waves. Perhaps there is more to be dreaded in the
quietness of our depravity than in the raging of it–for sometimes it
is the treacherous calm which the Christian ought to fear more than the
storm.
Again, it is quite certain that the Spirit's work within us is not
always equally active. The Spirit of God is always in a Christian–He
dwells in the Believer as in a temple. "My Spirit will I not utterly
take from him," is true of every saint. But yet you must know that your
faith is often weak–that your love is not always like a flame of fire.
You cannot pray at all times as you wished, Ah, Brethren, we can
sometimes dash along in service like the chariots of Amminadib, but at
other times the wheels are taken off and we drag the chariots heavily
like Pharaoh in the midst of the Red Sea! A change, then, in the flesh,
or a change in the spirit, may produce a diversity in the present form
of the conflict.
It is always there, but not always the same. I suppose that when it is
most furious the reason of its fury may be sought for in the strength
of both sides. I do not think that when the flesh is strong and the
spirit is weak that there is much conflict–then, there is rather a
speedy defeat. But when the Spirit of God is gloriously at work in our
souls–when faith is vigorous, when hope is bright, when love is
flaming, and when, at the same time the corrupt powers put forth all
their might–then it is that the conflict is stern.
Some Christians do not enter into this state of strong conflict for two
reasons–they are men of weak passions and Divine Grace in them is at a
low ebb. But when a man is endowed with a strong mental nature and the
Spirit is also vigorous within him, then there will be a contest
something like the combat of two Samsons fighting and struggling
together as to who shall get the victory. Ah, Brethren, these things
may change, as I have said, but the war is never over! Do not any of
you say, "I shall never be tempted again."
Gray-headed Brethren, do not think that the old man in you is dead! If
professors fall into grave sin and dishonor the Church, they are as
often old men as young men. No, I think I may say that they are more
often elder men than younger ones. It is sad it should be so, but it is
so. And there is many a professor who has stood well for forty years,
but makes a fool of himself at the last. And though he has been honored
in God's Church, yet he leaves a blot upon his name and the godly say
in a whisper, "No doubt he was a child of God, but it is best that he
should be dead, for in his old age he fell into sin."
No, we shall never be out of gunshot of the devil till we have crossed
the river of death. Our carnal minds are like a powder magazine–there
only needs the spark. And ah, what an explosion there would be with any
of us! May the Lord keep the sparks away. Let us be very vigilant and
very careful. There is an enemy behind every hedge. There is a foe
waiting for us at every step. And before this Sunday's hallowed hours
may be over, you and I may have slipped and have fallen into sin to our
own perpetual hurt and hindrance, unless almighty Grace shall
intervene.
V. A few words now upon THE EFFECTS OF THIS CONFLICT. Some will say,
"But why does not God remove out of the Christian the old nature?" Some
uninstructed Christians even think that in conversion the Lord turns
the old nature into a new one, which is very far from the fact. The old
nature remains in the Christian. It has received a blow which will
ultimately be its death, but it still lives and the new nature in the
Christian comes to struggle with it for the mastery.
But why is this? Well, we cannot tell you. Such a question reminds us
of the Negro's enquiry to the minister–"You say that God is Omnipotent
and therefore He is greater than Satan?" "Yes." Then why does not God
kill the devil and have done with him?" We believe God to be as morally
Omnipotent as He is physically Omnipotent. And if He willed it, we do
not doubt but that evil of every form and shape might disappear out of
the universe. Why, then, does He permit it? Ah, why? But there we leave
it. Be amazed at the mystery if you will, but do not question God nor
cast the blame of sin upon His holy Character.
There it is, He suffers sin to remain in the universe and after all we
can say, we observe the fact–but the reason we cannot tell. Still I
think we may in some respects see how sin is overruled in the
Christian. Sin remaining in the Believer drives him humbly to confess
his own nothingness, excludes all boasting from his tongue, compels him
to trust in his God, takes away from him his propensity to trust in
himself, leads him to value the precious blood which cleanses him, to
prize the Holy Spirit who sanctifies him, to rejoice in the
faithfulness and patience and long-suffering of God who still continues
to be gracious to him! And oh, what songs will the man of God sing when
he gets to Heaven!
How much sweeter will be the music because of the conflict! How much
more glorious the victory because of the warfare! If I could be totally
delivered from sin, root and branch, I certainly would. But yet am I
conscious that no Christian would glorify God so much in Heaven as he
now does if there were not sin to be contended with. A creature that
could not sin could scarcely show forth much of the praise of God by
its holiness. But that the creature can sin, no, that there is a strong
drawing towards sin and yet the Divine Grace keeps a man from it and
sanctifies him even to perfection–why this will make the song come
swelling up of, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"
If no adversaries had been tolerated, then no victories could have been
won. If there were no temptations for us to struggle with, then there
would have been no elbow room for our faith, no power for the display
of the bare arm of God. Doubtless it is best as it is and when the
winding up of the chapter comes, perhaps we shall see that our
committed sins have been made the means of saving us from other sins
which would have been our ruin. Many Believers would have grown too
proud to be borne with if some infirmity had not plucked the plume from
their helmets and made them mourn with brokenness of heart before God.
God can bring good out of evil by His overruling Grace, while on the
other hand our good works have often been the greatest curse we have
ever had. Good works have puffed us up and so have led us into
pride–while our sins, though pulling us down, have, through almighty
Grace, led us to make men work for eternity.
VI. I want your attention to the last point, which is, THE CONCLUSION
OF IT ALL. This contest–is it forever to continue? Shall we forever
tremble in the balances? Will there be no valley of decision where our
souls may take their rest? Yes, Brethren, the fight will soon be over
and the victory is guaranteed and glorious! Yes, even at the present
day, the Christian is making progress.
I do not admire the term "progressive sanctification," for it is
unwarranted by Scripture. But it is certain that the Christian does
grow in Grace. And though his conflict may be as severe on the last day
of his life as in the first moment of conversion, yet he does advance
in Grace and all his imperfections and his conflicts within cannot
prove that he has not made progress. Let me show you this. You know
that at certain periods in your children's history they pass through
diseases incidental to childhood. Here is your babe of a month old and
there is your child of three or four years.
This child of three or four years of age is suffering from some of
those complaints incidental to infancy. It is not in such good health
as your child of a month old. It is far weaker and its life seems far
more in danger. Yet you will not say that there is no progress, for
this child of three years old has passed through three years of its
difficulties and hazards, which this little one, newly-born, has yet to
encounter. We all know that there are certain growing pains which the
lad feels when he is verging out into his manhood, but these pains do
not prove a want of strength, but the very reverse–the muscles are
being braced and the sinews are being strengthened.
Stand by the seashore when the tide is coming up. There rolled up a big
wave. Just mark the place in the sand. For the next few minutes there
is no wave that comes up so high as that–no, some waves that suck back
the rest and you might even think the sea was retiring! Is there,
therefore, no progress made? Why, Friend, you will see in a moment, if
you will but wait! Another great wave will come sweeping up, far
outstripping the one that we marked just now. And when you shall come
back in an hour's time and the sea has come to the fullness of its
strength, you will see that the receding of any one individual wave is
no mark of its retrogression. You have but to mark the whole sea and
take time in which to examine it and then you discover there has been
progress and that progress has been effected by alternate advance and
retreat.
Along the coast of Essex the sea is greatly encroaching upon the land
and every time we go to some of the watering places, we perceive that
the cliff has fallen, hundreds or thousands of tons have been carried
away. And yet if you are there at a tide which has gone far out, you
will often think, "Why, surely the land is gaining on the sea! I never
walked out so far as this before. I never saw these rocks exposed and
dry before." Well, it is a strangely low tide. But at the same time ask
the old fisherman who has lived there all his days and he will tell you
that his mother was married out in a Church which stood where that ship
is floating, far out to sea and that all the intervening soil has been
washed away!
He recollects when this place, which is now a footpath on the cliffs
brink, was a quarter of a mile inland–and then you understand that
though on any one occasion the land may apparently have gained, yet, on
the whole, there has been a progress in the sea. And so it is with
spiritual life. There are times when it seems as if sin had gained upon
you and you were going back in spiritual things. There is cause for
alarm, but not despair! There is a cause for watchfulness, but not for
terror–go to the Lord and pray to Him to send a mightier wave of His
Irresistible Grace–that your soul may be filled with all the fullness
of God.
The day is often gloomy at eleven o'clock, but that is no proof that
you are not getting towards noon. Many a cold wind howls over the days
of March and April, colder than there might have been at Christmas–but
that is no proof that you are not getting on to summer. There may come
a frosty night in May, nipping the flowers, but that is no proof that
the frost is all coming back again. So you may feel within yourself
such things as cause you to bow your head in sorrow and to cry out to
God in grief! But even these things shall but speed you on your way
towards your desired haven. The battle will certainly end right.
Just anticipate for a moment the glory of the victory! You shall be
free from sin one day! You shall be perfect, even as your Father who is
in Heaven is perfect! You shall wave the palm branch, and wave it the
more joyously because you had to contend with flesh and blood and with
spiritual wickedness! You shall join the eternal song and it shall roll
up to the Throne of God all the more gloriously because you have–
"To wrestle hard as we do now, With sins and doubts and fears." Come,
anticipate that triumph and pluck up courage! Go forth, all you
servants of God, as Barak went against Sisera, and the day shall come
when your foes shall be swept away! That river of death shall do for
your enemies what the Kishon did for Jabin–it shall sweep them away
forever! Standing by the Red Sea of the atoning sacrifice, you shall
sing unto the Lord who has triumphed gloriously and cast the horse and
the rider into the depths of the sea.
I have preached, this morning, especially for the comfort of those who
are thus exercised and who are saying, "If it is so, why am I thus?"
You will now see that instead of having cause for distress in all these
conflicts, you have only a reason to come to Christ again. Come to
Jesus again! Look up to Him once more and take Him today to be your
Savior and your All. Put your case into His hands! Trust Him and you
shall be more than conquerors through Him who loved you. Trust Him!
Trust Him now and we will meet in Heaven at last to sing His praises
forever! Amen.