Helps

Helps

A sermon

(No. 777)

Delivered by

C.H.SPURGEON,

At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington

"And God has set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily
prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then gifts of
healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues."- 1 Corinthians
12:28.

IT appears, according to the Apostle Paul, in regard to the diversity
of gifts which proceeded from the selfsame Spirit of God, those who
gave assistance to the early Church did so in different ways. He tells
us, "God has set some in the church, first apostles." These were to go
from place to place founding churches and ordaining ministers. There
were next, "secondarily, prophets," some of whom uttered prophecies and
others were gifted in their explanation. Then came, "thirdly,
teachers," who were probably either pastors settled in many churches
teaching the Word, or else evangelists journeying about and proclaiming
the Truths of God.

Then came, "after that, miracles, then gifts of healing." And the
Apostle does not forget to mention another class of persons, called
"helps." Now, who these people precisely were I suppose it would be
very difficult, at this period of time, if not quite impossible, to
tell. Some have thought that they were assistant ministers who
occasionally aided settled pastors both in the pastoral work of
visiting and in occasionally preaching the Word. Others have thought
that they were assistant deacons, and perhaps even deaconesses, an
office that most certainly was recognized in the Apostolic Churches.

Others, again, have supposed these "helps" to have been attendants in
the sanctuary who took care that strangers were properly accommodated,
and managed those details which always must be superintended by
somebody in connection with any gathering of persons for any public
object whatever. But whoever they were, or whatever may have been the
particular functions they discharged, they appear to have been a useful
body of people and worthy to be mentioned in the same verse as Apostles
and teachers, and even to be named with miracle-workers and those who
had the gifts of healing!

It strikes me that they were not persons who had any official standing
but that they were only moved by the natural impulse and the Divine
life within them to do anything and everything which would assist
either teacher, pastor, or deacon in the work of the Lord. They were
the sort of Brethren who are useful anywhere–who can always stop a gap
and who are only too glad, when they find that they can make themselves
serviceable to the Church of God in any capacity whatever. We have a
goodly brigade of "HELPS" in this Church, and I want now to stir them
up! And while I am speaking to them, perhaps a word or two of comfort
may come, as it were, from round the corner to some who need the
assistance which these Brethren give, and for whose help, indeed, those
of whom we speak lay out their lives.

John Bunyan, that master of Christian experience, as well as of
Christian allegory, has, it seems to me, described that part of the
work of these "helps" which is most valuable and which is most
required. He describes Help as coming to Christian when he was
floundering about in the Slough of Despond. Just when the poor man was
likely to have been choked, having missed his footing in the slough,
and when he found that with all his struggling, he was only sinking
deeper and deeper into the mire, there suddenly came to him a person of
whom Bunyan says nothing more throughout his whole allegory, whose name
was Help. Help put out his hand and, saying some words of encouragement
to Christian, pulled him out of the mire, set him on the King's Highway
and established his goings.

There is a period in the Divine life when the help of judicious
Christian Brethren is invaluable. Most of us who know the Lord at all
know quite as much as we wish to know about that awful Slough of
Despond. I myself did lay in it for five years, or thereabouts, and I
think I know pretty well every part of it. In some places it is deeper
than in others, and more nauseous. But, believe me, a man may reckon
himself thrice happy when he gets out of it, for when one is in it, it
seems as though it would swallow him up alive! Dear, very dear to us,
must ever be the hand that helped us out of the depth of the mire where
there was no standing! And while we ascribe all the glory to the God of
Grace, we cannot but love most affectionately the instrument He sent to
be the means of our deliverance.

On the summit of some of the Swiss passes, the Canton, for the
preservation and accommodation of travelers, maintains a small body of
men, sometimes only two or three, who live in a little house at the top
and whose business it is to help travelers on their way. It was very
pleasant when we were going through a pass in the mountains of Northern
Italy to see, some three or four miles from the top, a man coming down
who saluted us as though he had known us for years. He carried a spade
in his hand, and though we did not know what was coming, he evidently
understood better than we did what was going to occur.

By-and-by we came to deep snow and the man went to work with his spade
to clear a footway, and when he came to a very ugly piece of road some
of the party were carried along on the man's back. It was the man's
business to care for the travelers and before long there came one of
his companions with wine and refreshments which were generously offered
to the weary ones. These men were "helps" who spent their lives on that
part of the road where it was known their services would be required.
And when travelers reach the spot, these men are ready to give their
assistance in the nick of time. They would have been worth nothing at
all down in the plains. They would have been only an encumbrance if
they had met us in any other place–but they were exceedingly valuable
because they were just where they were required–and came exactly at
the moment when they were wanted.

Now, my Friends, "helps" are of no use to a man when he can help
himself. When he has no difficulties, an offer of assistance is an
intrusion. There is just one point, such a juncture as the passing of
the summit of the mountain, where help will be exceedingly precious to
him. And it seems to me that the period of a man's experience which
Bunyan describes by the Slough of Despond is just that season when you,
my dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ, may render invaluable aid to
the Christian minister by coming to the rescue of those who seem as
though they would be swallowed up.

This brigade of "helps," if I understand Bunyan right, are stationed
all round the borders of the Slough of Despond and it is their business
to keep watch all round and listen for the cries of any poor
unenlightened travelers who may be staggering in the mire. Just as the
Royal Humane Society keep their men along the borders of the lakes in
the parks in winter time–and when the ice is forming bid them be on
the watch and take care of any who may venture upon it–so a little
knot of Christian people, both men and women, should always be ready in
every Church to listen for cries of distress, and to give assistance
wherever it may be required.

Such seem to me to be the sort of "helps" we want. Such, perhaps, these
ancient "helps" may have been.

I. I want, first of all, to GIVE A FEW DIRECTIONS TO THESE "HELPS" AS
TO HOW THEY MAY HELP POOR SINNERS OUT OF THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND. After
some little experience I have had in helping others, I would recommend
one particular course at the outset. When you meet with someone who is
despairing and thinks he cannot be saved, get him to state his case.
This should always be the first thing.

When Help went to Christian he did not at once put out his hand to him,
but he said, "What are you doing there? How did you get there?" It does
men good to state their spiritual case to others. Confession to a
priest is a piece of abomination, but sometimes the communication of
our spiritual difficulties to another will be, in itself, a most
helpful exercise to ourselves. You will know how to deal with them and
they will know the better what you want when they put their necessities
into words. I have occasionally found that the mere act of stating a
difficulty has been the very means of at once removing it.

Some of our doubts will not bear the light of day. Many spiritual
difficulties are there which, if a man did but look them fully and
squarely in the face long enough to be able to describe them, would
vanish even during the investigation! Let the youngster state his case.
Get that young man alone, dear Brother–get him to sit down quietly
with you, and say to him–"Now, what is it you are distressed about?
What is the point that puzzles you? What cannot you understand? What is
it that dejects and dispirits you?" Let them state their own case.

Next to this, enter, as much as lies in you, into their case. This may
seem to you, perhaps, an unimportant direction, but, depend upon it,
you will be able to give very little help, if any, if you do not follow
it. Sympathy has very much to do with our ability to comfort others. If
you cannot enter into their distress, you will scarcely be able to lift
them out of it. Try to bring yourselves down to "weep with them that
weep," as well as to "rejoice with those that rejoice." Do not sneer at
a difficulty because it seems small to you. Remember that it may be
very great to the person who is troubled by it.

Do not begin to scold and tell the young man that he ought not to feel
as he does feel, or to be as distressed as he is. As God puts His
everlasting arms underneath you, so you must put the outstretched arms
of your sympathy underneath

your younger and weaker Brethren that you may lift them up. If you see
a Brother in the mire, put your arms right down into the mud, that, by
the Grace of God, you may lift him bodily out of it! Remember that you
were once just where that young Sister of yours is now. Try, if you
can, to bring back your own feelings when you were in her condition.

It may be, you say, that the stripling or the damsel is very foolish.
Yes, but you were fools yourselves once, and then you abhorred all
manner of meat and your soul seemed to be drawing near to the gates of
death. Now you must use Paul's language–you must "become a fool for
their sakes." You must put yourselves into the condition of these
simple-minded ones. If you cannot do this, you need training to teach
you how to be a help–as yet you do not know the way. Let them state
their case and then endeavor to feel their difficulties as your own.

Perhaps your next work ought to be to comfort these poor Brethren with
the promise. Help, in "Pilgrim's Progress," asked Christian why he did
not look for the steps and told him that there were good steps all the
way through the mire. But Christian said he had missed them. Now, you
can point these poor sinking ones to the steps, Brethren, if you are
well acquainted with the promises of God. Have them on the tip of your
tongue, ready at any time. We have heard of a certain scholar who used
to carry miniature copies of all the classic authors about with him so
that he seemed to have almost a Bodleian in his pocket.

O that you would carry miniature Bibles about with you! Or, better
still, that you had all the Word of God constantly with you in your
heart so that you might be able to speak a word in season to them that
are weary! Whenever you come across a poor distressed soul, what a
blessed thing for you to be able to say to him, "Yes, you are a sinner,
it is true. But Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners."
Perhaps he will tell you that he cannot do anything–and you may answer
that he is not told to do anything but to believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ and he shall be saved. He will say, perhaps, that he cannot
believe–but you can remind him of the promise, "Whoever calls upon the
name of the Lord shall be saved"–that is, those who seek Him earnestly
by prayer.

Some texts in the Bible are like sundry stars in the sky–those
constellations in the heavens which are so conspicuous that when the
mariner once sees them he can very soon tell where he is! He determines
the latitude and longitude of his own position by gazing intently on
one of these celestial bodies. Some brilliant passages of Scripture
appear to be set in the firmament of Revelation as guiding stars to
poor bewildered souls. Point to these! Quote them often! Rivet the poor
sinner's eyes upon them–this will be one of the best ways of helping
him. Oh, if there is a poor despairing one here tonight, let me quote
to him three great and mighty promises of our God–"Let the wicked
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him
return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God,
for He will abundantly pardon." "He retains not His anger forever
because He delights in mercy." "Whoever will, let him take of the water
of life freely." These three texts are specimens of promises by which
you "helps" can assist sinking sinners.

After this, dear Friends, try to instruct those who may want your help
more fully in the plan of salvation. The Gospel is preached every
Sunday in hundreds of pulpits in England, and yet there is nothing so
little known or understood in this country as "the truth as it is in
Jesus." Sometimes the preacher cannot, even with all his attempts, make
plain the simple Gospel. You, perhaps, may be able to do it because you
just happen to suit the comprehension of the person in hand. God is my
witness how earnestly I always endeavor to make clear and plain
whatever I say, but yet my peculiar modes of thought and expression may
not be suitable to the cases of some in such an audience as this.

Some one person may be able to meet cases which I cannot. If my
Brothers and Sisters, the "helps," will be constantly active, they may
often explain where I only confuse. That which may not have been
understood as the preacher put it may be comprehended when it is stated
afresh by them. If you will only put the same thing in another shape,
the sinner will say, "Ah, I see it now. I could not understand it from
him, but I can understand it from you!" Do, if you would help souls,
point them to the Savior! Do not bother them about any irrelevant
matters, but just talk to them at once about the precious blood–that
is the main thing. Tell the sinner that whoever trusts in Christ shall
be saved. Do not point to the wicket gate as Evangelist did–that is
not the way! Point the sinner to the Cross!

Poor Christian would never have been in the Slough of Despond if he had
had a proper person to direct him. Do not scold Evangelist, but just
undo the mischief he did by always pointing the sinner to Calvary.
Would you supplement this? I recommend you to tell the troubled
conscience your own experience. Many have been able to get out of the
Slough of Despond in this way. "What," says the young man, "did you
ever feel as I do?" I must say I have often been really amused when I
have been talking with young enquirers to see them open their eyes with
astonishment to think that I had ever felt

as they did, whereas I should have opened mine with far greater
astonishment if I had not! We sit down, sometimes, and tell our
patients all their symptoms. And then they think we must have read
their hearts, while the fact is that our hearts are just like theirs,
and in reading ourselves, we read them.

We have gone along the same road as they have, and it would be a very
hard thing if we could not describe what we have ourselves experienced.
Even advanced Christians find great comfort in reading and hearing of
the experience of others if it is anything like their own. And to young
people it really is a most blessed means of Divine Grace to hear others
tell what they have gone through before them. I wish our elder Brethren
were more frequently "helps" in this matter, and that when they see
others in trouble they would tell them that they have passed through
the very same difficulties, instead, as some do, of blaming the young
people for not knowing what they cannot know, and upbraiding them
because they have not "old heads on young shoulders," where, I am sure,
they would be singularly out of place.

Once more, I think you will very much help the young enquirer by
praying with him. Oh, the power of prayer! When you cannot tell the
sinner what you want to say you can sometimes tell it to God in the
sinner's hearing. There is a way of saying in prayer, with a person,
what you cannot say directly to his face and it is well, sometimes,
when praying with another, to put the case very plainly and
earnestly–something in this way: "Lord, You know that this poor young
woman now present is very much troubled, but it is her own fault. She
will not believe in Your love because she says there is no evidence of
it. You have shown it in the gift of Your dear Son but she still
persists in wanting to see something of her own upon which she may
rest–some good frames or feelings. She has been told many times that
all her help lies in Christ and not at all in herself, and yet she
still keeps on seeking fire in the midst of water and life in the
graves of death. Open her eyes, Lord! Turn her face in the right
direction and lead her to look to Christ, and not to self."

Praying in this way, you see, often puts the case very plainly. There
is a real power in prayer–the Lord still hears the cry of His people.
As certainly, Beloved, as ever the electric fluid bears the message
from one place to another–as certainly as the laws of gravitation move
the spheres–so certainly is prayer a mysterious, but a real power! God
does hear prayer! Some of us are quite as certain of this as we are
that we breathe–we have tried it and proved it. It is not occasionally
that God has heard it, but it has become as regular a thing with us to
ask and have as it is for our children to ask for meat at the table and
receive it at our hands.

I should hardly think of attempting to prove that God hears my prayer,
either to myself or anybody else. It has become so much the habit of my
life to know that God hears prayer that I have no more doubt of it than
I have of the fact that if I lose my balance I shall fall, and that the
power of gravitation affects me in walking, in sitting still, in rising
up, and in lying down. Exercise, then, I beseech you, this power of
prayer and you shall often find that when nothing else will help a soul
out of its difficulty, prayer will do it. There are no limits, dear
Friends, if God is with you, in your helping others through the power
of prayer.

These directions–and they are not very many–I want you to keep in
your memories as you would the directions of the Royal Humane Society
with reference to people who have been in danger of drowning. I dare
say some of you have already practiced them so long that you know them
well enough.

II. Having spoken thus on how to help, I shall now describe THOSE WHO
CAN HELP. It is not everybody who can help in the way I have been
describing. I want to enlist a little brigade of spiritual
firemen–that is, I want to gather a company of "helps" to assist
persons who may be slipping and floundering about in the Slough of
Despond.

The first essential for a true "help" is that he should have a tender
heart. There are some people who seem to be prepared by Divine Grace on
purpose to be soul-winners. I know a Brother whom I did once venture to
compare to a hunting dog in this matter, for no sooner did he suspect
that there were anxious souls than he was on the alert! And did he but
hear of a number of converts, away he went! He seems dull and heavy at
other times, but then his eyes flash, his heart, his whole soul is
stirred up to action and he becomes like a new man! Among converts and
enquirers he is all alive–his soul takes fire directly–and amidst the
diversities of gifts that proceed from the same Spirit, his gift
evidently is to help souls.

Such a man was Timothy, of whom Paul says, "I have no man like-minded
who will naturally care for your state." You know in common life there
are some people who seem to be born nurses. Others there are, to be
sure, who cannot nurse at all! If you were ill you would never have
them about you even if they would come for nothing and pay you for
having them! They mean well, but somehow or other they would stomp
across the room every time they moved and

would be sure to wake you up! And if there were any medicine to be
taken at night it would taste all the worse if they gave it to you. But
you have known a real nurse–perhaps your own wife–you never did hear
her walk across the room when you were ill and you never would, even if
you had an instrument to your ear like a microscope to the eye
magnifying the minutest thing! She steps so softly that you might
almost sooner hear her heartbeat than her footstep.

Then, too, she understands your tastes exactly and always knows what to
bring you. Whoever heard of a nurse more fit for her work than Miss
Nightingale? She seems as if she could do nothing else, and as if God
had sent her into the world on purpose–not only that she might be a
nurse, herself–but that she might also teach others to nurse. Well, it
is just the same in spiritual things. I have used a homely illustration
to show you what I mean.

There are some people who, if they try to comfort you when you are
distressed, go so awkwardly to work about it that they are sure to give
you a great deal more trouble than you had before. They really mean
well, and try to do their best, but they cannot do what you want done.
It is not their skill–they are not "helps"–they would take a great
crowbar to do the thing which a little picklock would easily effect.
And they go about everything in such a strange, clumsy style that you
can see they were not made for the work. The true "help" to a
distressed soul is a person, who, though his head may not be very big,
has a large and warm heart. He is a man, in fact, all heart.

It was said of John that he was a pillar of fire from head to foot.
This is the kind of man the soul wants when it is shivering in the cold
winter of despondency. Such men I know–may God train many more and
give us all more of the gentleness that was in Christ–for unless in
this way we are naturally fit for the work, we shall never be able to
do it. The "help," moreover, needs not only a large heart, but a very
quick eye. There is a way of getting the eye sensitively acute with
regard to sinners. I know some Brothers and Sisters who, when they are
sitting in their pews, can almost tell how the Word is operating upon
those who sit near them.

Some people cannot do this, others can. And besides this they know just
what they ought to say to their neighbors in the seat when the sermon
is over. They understand how to say it and whether they ought to say it
in the pew or going down stairs, or outside–or whether they ought to
wait till some time in the week. They appear to have an instinct which
tells them just what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. Oh, it is
a blessed thing when God thus sets watchmen along the borders of the
Slough of Despond! Then, if they have quick ears, they listen, and
by-and-by they hear a splash over yonder in the Slough, and though it
may be very dark and misty, they go to the rescue! Nobody else hears
the cry but those who lay themselves out to listen for it.

We also need for this work men who are quick of foot, to run. Why,
there are some of you who never speak to your neighbors about their
souls! You have a sitting here and you never think of speaking a word
to those who sit next to you. I thank God there are some of you who
will not let a stranger go out without a good word concerning Christ. I
pray you persevere in the good habit and the Lord will bless you, for
while there is much to be done in such a congregation as this by the
preacher, there is yet more to be done by these "helps" in getting to
the conscience and doing good to the soul.

For a thoroughly efficient "help," give me a man with a loving face. We
do not make our own faces, but I do not think a Brother who is
habitually grim will do much with anxious enquirers. Cheerfulness
commends itself, especially to a troubled heart. We do not want
levity–there is a great difference between cheerfulness and levity. I
can always tell a man who looks sweetly at me what I feel, far better
than I can tell it to one who in a sort of official way talks to me as
though it were his only business to enquire into my private concerns
and to find out all about what I am and where I have been.

Go about your work softly, gently, affectionately. Let your cheerful
countenance tell that the religion you have is worth having–that it
cheers and comforts you–and then the poor soul in the Slough of
Despond will hope that it may cheer and comfort him. Earnestly, too,
let me recommend you to have a firm foot. If I have to go and pull a
Brother out of the Slough, I must know how to stand fast, myself, or
otherwise, while I am seeking to pull him out, I may fall in! I must
remember that hearing the doubts of others may give rise to the same
doubts in my own mind unless I am firmly established as to my own
personal interest in Christ Jesus.

If you would be useful, you must not be always doubting and fearing.
Full assurance is not necessary to salvation, but it is very necessary
to your success as a helper of others. I remember when I taught in the
Sunday school, I was trying to point one of the boys in the class to
the Savior. He seemed troubled, and he said to me, "Teacher, are you
saved?" I said "Yes." "But are you sure you are?" said he, and though I
did not answer him just then, I felt that I could not very

well tell him that there certainly was salvation in Jesus Christ unless
I had tried Him for myself and been assured of it. Do try to get a firm
foot, dear Brethren, and you will be more useful round the edge of the
Slough than as though you were constantly slipping down.

Then, as you have to do business round this Slough, try to know it
well. Try to find out its worst parts and where it is deepest. You will
not have to go far to do this–you have probably been in it yourself
and therefore know something about it–but you can easily gather from
one and another where it is worst. Seek, if you can, to understand the
mental philosophy of despondency. I do not mean by studying Dugald
Stewart and other writers on mental philosophy, but by real heart-felt
experience seek to become practically acquainted with the doubts and
fears which agitate coming souls. When you have done this I hope the
Lord will give you–for you will need it if you are to become very
useful–a good strong hand in order to grip the sinner.

Jesus Christ did not heal the lepers without touching them and we
cannot do good to other men by standing at a distance from them. The
preacher sometimes gets hold of his hearers–he can feel he has them
and can do almost anything with them–and if you are to be a "help,"
you will have to learn the art of getting hold of the conscience, the
heart, the judgment, the whole man. When you once get hold of a
troubled heart, never let it go. Oh, I pray that you may have a hand
like a vice that will never let go of the sinner when once you have
hold of him! What? Shall the child of God let the sinner fall back into
the Slough? No! Not while the rock on which he stands holds fast, and
while he can hold the sinner by the hands of prayer and faith. May God
teach you to grip men by love, by spiritual sympathy, by passion for
souls so that you cannot let them go.

Once more, if you would help others out of the Slough of Despond, you
must have a bending back. You cannot pull them out if you stand bolt
upright–you must go right down to the man. There he is! He is almost
gone! The mire is well near over his head–now you must turn up your
sleeves and go to work. "But the man cannot speak correct English!"
Never mind! Do not speak correct English to him for he would not
understand it! Speak bad English, which he can understand. It is said
that many of the sermons of Augustine are full of shockingly bad Latin,
not because Augustine was not a good Latin scholar, but because the
dog-Latin of the day suited his turn best to get hold of men.

There is a certain prudery about ministers which disqualifies them for
some work–they cannot bring their mouth to utter a Truth of God in
such language as fishermen would understand! Happy is that man whose
mouth will say the Truth in such a way that the persons he is speaking
to will receive it. "But the dignity of the pulpit!" says one. Well,
and what is that? The "dignity" of a war chariot lies in the captives
dragged at its wheels, and the "dignity of the pulpit" lies in the
number of souls converted to God! Do not tell me of your fine jargon,
your Johnsonian sentences, your rolling periods–there is no "dignity"
in any of these if they go over the heads of your hearers! You must
condescend to men of low estate.

You will, sometimes, meet with men and women to whom you really must
talk to in a style which does not commend itself to your taste, but
which your judgment and your heart will command and compel you to use.
Learn to bend your back. Do not, for instance, go into a cottage like a
fine lady coming to visit poor people. Go and sit down on a chair and
sit on the edge if the rushes are gone. Sit close to the good woman,
even if she is ever so dirty, and talk to her, not as her superior, but
as her equal. If there is a boy playing marbles and you want to talk to
him, you must not call him away from his play nor look down upon him
from an awful elevation as a schoolmaster would. But begin with a few
playful expressions and then drop a more serious sentence into his ear.

If you would do people good you must go down to them where they are! It
is no use preaching fine sermons to drowning men! But go to the edge of
the pool, put out your arms and try to pull them out. These, I verily
think, are some of the qualifications of a true "help."

III. Let me now close by ENDEAVORING TO INCITE THOSE OF MY BROTHERS AND
SISTERS WHO HAVE

BEEN "HELPS" TO GO ON YET MORE EARNESTLY IN THE WORK, AND TO STIR UP
THOSE WHO HAVE NOT TRIED IT, TO BEGIN.

Perhaps somebody may ask, "Why should I help others?" and my answer
shall be, "because souls want help." Is not that enough? The cry of
misery is a sufficient argument for mercy. Souls want it. They die.
They perish. They are ready to despair. Help them. There was a story in
the papers last week of a man being found dead in a ditch who had been
lying there, dead, for six weeks. It was said that somebody had heard a
cry of, "Lost, lost," but it was dark and he did not go

out to see who it was! "Shocking! Shocking!" you say, and yet just the
very same thing may have been done by you! There are some persons here
tonight who may not cry, "Lost," because they do not feel they are
lost, but they are so. And will you let them die in the ditch of their
ignorance?

There are others who are crying, "Lost!" and who want a word of
comfort. And will you let them perish in despair for the lack of it? My
Brothers and Sisters, let the needs of humanity provoke you to
activity! Remember, again, how you were helped, yourselves, when you
were in a like condition. Some of us will never forget that dear Sunday
school teacher, that tender mother, that Christian woman, that kind
young man, that excellent elder of the Church who once did so much for
us. We shall never forget their tender attention. They seemed to us as
visions of bright angels when we were in the thick fog and darkness.
Return the debt! Repay the obligation! Discharge what you owe and you
cannot do this except by helping others as you were helped yourselves.

Moreover, Christ deserves it. There is a lamb out there that is lost.
It is His lamb! Will you not care for it? If there were a strange child
at my door asking for a night's shelter, humanity might prompt me to
take in the poor little creature out of the snow and wind. But if it
were the child of my brother or of some dear friend, kindred sympathy
would constrain me to protect it. That sinner is your Savior's
blood-bought one and is very dear to Him. He is a prodigal, but he is
your Father's son, and consequently your own brother! By the
relationship there is, though he discerns it not at present, you are
bound! A moral obligation rests upon you to give him your help.

Beloved, you would not need any other argument if you knew how blessed
the work is in itself! Would you acquire knowledge? Help others! Would
you grow in Divine Grace? Help others! Would you shake off your own
despondency? Help others! It quickens the pulse. It clears the vision.
It steels the soul to courage. It confers a thousand blessings on your
own souls to help others on the road to Heaven! Shut up your heart's
floods and they will become noisome, stagnant, putrid, foul. Let them
flow and they shall be fresh and sweet, and shall well up continually!
Live for others, and you will live a hundred lives in one. For
blessedness, commend me to industry and divorce me from idleness!

But, if that is not enough, I think I may say that you are called to
this work. Your Master has hired you! It is not for you to pick and
choose what you will do–He has given you your talents and you must do
what He bids you. Tonight, then, before you leave this house, try to do
some practical service for your Master, for He has called you to it. If
you do not, you will probably get the rod of correction. If you do not
help others, God will treat you as men do their stewards who make no
righteous use of the goods entrusted to them–your talent may be taken
from you. Sickness may be waiting for you because you are not active
while you are in health. You may be brought to poverty because you do
not make a right use of riches. You may be brought into deep despair,
yourselves, because you have not helped despairing souls.

Pharaoh's dream has often been fulfilled. He dreamed that that there
were seven fat bulls who fed in the meadow, and, by-and-by, there came
seven lean bulls who ate up the fat ones. Sometimes, when you are full
of joy and peace, you are lazy and idle and do not do any good to
others. And whenever this is the case, you may depend upon it that very
soon the seven lean bulls will come and eat up the seven fat bulls. You
may rest quite assured that those lean days in which you do nothing for
your Master–those lean prayers, those lean Sundays will eat up your
fat Sundays, your fat graces, your fat joys–and then where will you
be?

Besides all this, we are getting nearer Heaven and sinners are getting
nearer Hell. The time in which we can win souls by serving Christ is
getting very short. The days of some here must be very few and with
none of us can they be very long. O let us think of the reward! Happy
spirit who shall hear others say, as he enters the celestial regions,
"My father, I welcome you!" Childless souls in Glory who were never
made a blessing to others on earth must surely miss the very Heaven of
Heaven. But they who have brought others to Christ shall have, in
addition to their own Heaven, the joy of sympathy with other spirits
whom they were the means of blessing.

1 wish I could put my meaning into words that would burn their way into
your hearts! I want every member of this Church to be a worker! We do
not want any drones. If there are any of you who want to eat and drink
and do nothing there are plenty of places elsewhere where you can do
it! There are empty pews about in abundance–go and fill them, for we
do not want you! Every Christian who is not a bee is a wasp. The most
quarrelsome persons are the most useless, and they who are the most
happy and peaceable are generally those who are doing most for Christ.
We are not saved by working, but by Grace, but because we are saved we
desire to be the instruments of bringing others to Jesus. I would stir
you

all up to help in this work–old men, young men, and you, my Sisters,
and all of you–according to your gifts and experience.

I want to make you feel, "I cannot do much, but I can help. I cannot
preach, but I can help. I cannot pray in public, but I can help. I
cannot give much money away, but I can help. I cannot officiate as an
elder or a deacon, but I can help. I cannot shine as a bright
particular star, but I can help. I cannot stand alone to serve my
Master, but I can help." There is a text from which an old Puritan once
preached a very singular sermon. There were only two words in the text,
and they were, "And Bartholomew." The reason he took the text was that
Bartholomew's name is never mentioned alone, but he is always spoken of
as doing some good thing with somebody else. He is never the principal
actor, but always second. Well, let this be your feeling–that if you
cannot do all yourself, you will help to do what you can.

Gather we not, this night, as a meeting of Council to present degrees
to such disciples as through many sessions of labor have merited them?
I confer upon you who have used your opportunities well the sacred
title of "Helps." Others of you shall have it when you deserve it. Go
and win it! God grant that it may be your joy to wear the holy vestment
of charity, fringed with humility, and to enter into Heaven praising
God that He helped you to be a helper to others.
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Plain Words With the Careless

A sermon