Constancy And Inconstancy–a Contrast
A sermon
(No. 852)
Delivered on Lord's-day Morning, JANUARY 24, 1869, by
C.H.SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord: His going forth
is prepared as the morning; and He shall come unto us as the rain, as
the latter and former rain unto the earth. O Ephraim, what shall I do
unto you? O Judah, what shall I do unto you? For your goodness is as a
morning cloud and as the early dew it goes away."- Hosea 6:3,4.
THESE two verses very fitly describe in very similar imagery the
opposite characters of the true and persevering Believer and the
fictitious and the transient professor. There are many things in this
world which are very much alike and yet are totally dissimilar. The
king who, after stern conflict and arduous struggles, has at last
obtained the empire, shines not with greater pomp than yonder actor
mimicking majesty upon the stage in borrowed robes and tinsel crown.
How like each other that monarch and the player, and yet how wide the
difference! The one rules with real power, the other with but fancied
sway–the king has fought for many a day to earn the scepter–the other
in a few minutes in the green room has attained his monarchy and, we
may add, in a few minutes more he will lose it, too!
As in a glass, see here the true Christian and the base pretender to
that royal name. Take into your hand this paste gem so skillfully
manufactured, how exceedingly like a diamond! Yet this was made in
almost the twinkling of an eye, while yonder sparkling gem of real
adamant has taken years, even, to cut its facets on the wheel. Yet when
that paste gem with other unconsidered trifles shall be resolved into
the vile dust from where it sprang, that sparkling jewel shall shine
with as clear a radiance of morning light within it as flashes from it
now! Such is the true heir of Heaven and the hypocrite when seen by the
eye of wisdom.
Look but a year or two ago at two houses of business, how like each
other! How large their transactions, how respectable their names. Yet
the one all hollow, its capital long spent, its reputation all a
bubble. The other solid and substantial, with ample means and large
connections–this last has outlived the storm of commercial
panic–while its rival has long been stranded and left a total wreck.
Even thus men trade with Heaven and such are the differing results.
We will inspect those two fine vessels upon the stocks and unless well
educated in the art of shipbuilding, who shall give a preference to the
one or the other? But see them out at sea, let old Boreas blow, let the
Atlantic rollers advance in their fury and you shall see how the flimsy
ill-built ship opens at every timber, her bolts loosen, her entire hull
is disjointed and shivered, she is blown down and sinks to her doom!
But the other vessel, built of sterner stuff, well bolted, with
seasoned timbers all fitted, staunch and sound, braves the fury of the
tempest and reaches her desired haven.
After this sort does the sea of life try the sons of men and discern
between the precious and the vile. As in the outer world things may be
very like and yet have no likeness, so in the spiritual world there are
persons so like Christians that even a seraph's judgment could not
detect the imposter. There are characters so like to that which the
renewed nature exhibits, that even if you lived with the man, you
scarcely could tell him to be a counterfeit! And yet after a little
time and trial the falsehood oozes through and the man is found out.
If some of the remarks of this morning should help us to test and try
ourselves and so, incidentally, lead some into comfort and others into
anxiety, I shall be very grateful and so will you who shall receive the
blessing! The first verse seems to me to describe the constancy of God
to those who are really His people, and the second, the inconstancy of
men in their dealings with their God.
I. Let us commence with the third verse of our text and accept it as a
description of THE CONSTANCY OF GOD TOWARDS THOSE WHO ARE HIS PEOPLE.
It is our solemn conviction that the gifts and calling of God are
without repentance–that wherever the Lord bestows spiritual life and
salvation He never recalls the gift–that it is not His wish
to play fast and loose with the sons of men, to give today and retract
tomorrow. We enjoy the doctrine of final perseverance and cannot think
how anyone can doubt it. Without doubt or fear we sing–
"Whom once He loves He ne ver leaves,
But loves them to the end."
We are persuaded of the immutable love of God towards His children. But
mark the connection of the text leads us to observe the fact, the
constancy of God to His people is not occasioned by their constancy to
Him. For Ephraim and Judah, of whom this text was written, were the
most fickle and inconstant of people. They were unstable as water
towards their God. He brings accusations such as these against
them–"Israel slides back as a backsliding heifer." "Ephraim is
oppressed and broken in judgment, because he willingly walked after the
commandment"–that is, the evil commandment of heathen kings.
All through the book of Hosea there are exhortations to repentance and
returning from backsliding. If, then, God remained faithful towards
such a people, it was not because they remained faithful to Him! The
fact is, that wherever there is in any Christian a holy patience and a
diligent perseverance, this is the work of God in his soul, and is
worked in him by the faithful Grace and abiding Presence of God. It is
not our faithfulness which holds God to His promise, but it is God's
faithfulness which holds us near to Him. Ah, Lord, if Your love should
hang on our poor love which is as a rusted nail driven into rotten
wood, our salvation would soon fail! But when we hang upon Your
faithfulness in Christ Jesus, how safe we are!
Ah, if one single stone of the entire fabric of our salvation had to be
quarried out of our carnal nature, it could never be found, for our
whole nature is as a miry place, a bog in which nothing stable can be
discovered. Beloved, thought we believe not, God abides faithful!
Though we twist and turn aside a thousand times, yet He brings His
wandering servants back and restores them to His ways, out of the
infinite love and compassion of His heart. I know some prostitute this
doctrine into an excuse for sin. Oh, mean and sensual hearts! They are
base-born pretenders to a Divine Grace they never knew! If they found
not this excuse they would make another, for they are generations apt
in lies and well skilled in perverting the Truth of God to their own
purposes! They turn the Grace of God into licentiousness and their
damnation is just!
But no converted man ever found an apology for sin in the immutability
of Divine affection. No, but this is the greatest condemnation of our
sin–that we transgress against a God who still loves us! That we dare
to play the traitor to Him who never, for a moment, was inconstant in
His love to us! If a husband were unstable in his marriage love, there
were some excuse for the unfaithful wife–but the firmness of our Great
Husband's love to our souls makes it the blackest treason and the most
accursed unchastity if our hearts turn aside from our Best Beloved to
follow after idols! The fountain does not depend on the stream, or the
sun upon its beams, or the soil upon the flowers–effects depend on
causes–not causes on effects! And so the attending love of God does
not depend upon the constancy of His people.
Note next, that the faithfulness of God to His people does not always
show itself in the most pleasing ways. The first verse tells us that
God had torn and struck His people and the last verse of the former
chapter represents the Lord as saying, "I will go and return to My
place." A father's love does not always reveal itself in kisses and
gifts of sweets. Love often has to force itself to blows and
stripes–and those black love tokens which blossom upon the rod of
chastisement are as true proofs of a father's kindness as the soft
blandishment and sweet endearments which at other times he lavishly
scatters. Our God does not indulge His people with constant prosperity,
lest they drown in the river of worldliness. His beloved are often
plunged in troubles–"Many are the afflictions of the righteous," and
their troubles are not only outward–the iron enters into their soul,
also.
We who have believed have our deep-sea sorrows and our downcastings
when every wave and billow goes over us. We smart under dreadful
desertions. Some of us have had to cry with the Master on the Cross,
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" We know why He has forsaken
us–it is because we have forsaken Him! And therefore He has hidden the
light of His Countenance from us until we could scarcely believe
ourselves to be His children at all. We have turned to prayer and found
words and even desires fail us when on our knees. We have searched the
Scriptures with no consolatory result–every text of Scripture has
looked black upon us! Every promise blockaded its ports against us! We
have tried to raise a single thought heavenward, but have been so
distracted under a sense of the Lord's wrath which lay heavy upon
us, that we could not even aspire for a moment! We could only say, "Why
are you cast down, O my Soul? Why are you disquieted within me?"
Such suffering of soul will often be to the erring Christian the very
best thing that could befall him. He has walked contrary to his God and
if his God did not walk contrary to him he would be at peace in his
sin. Remember, no condition can be more dangerous, not to say damnable,
than for a man who is no longer agreed with his God to believe that all
is well and go on softly and delicately in the way which tends to
destruction. Brothers and Sisters, I have to thank God and I think you
may join with me, for many a sharp pang which has gone through the
soul, for many a sharp cut which has come from a stinging text of
Scripture when that Word of God has searched us through and through and
like a strong corrosive, or sharp acid, has burnt its way into our
inmost soul, destroying and maiming in us much that we looked upon as
precious and admirable!
The faithfulness of God does not always wear silken robes and is not
always arrayed in scarlet and fine linen, but it puts on steel armor
and comes out to us, sword in hand, cutting and wounding and making us
bleed. It is very faithfulness which thus afflicts us! In love and
tenderness God often seems to deal harshly with His children. He hurls
them upon the ground and crushes them till they lie like a bleeding,
helpless mass of wounds and faintness–ready to perish–and overwhelmed
with anguish. "Their thoughts," as George Herbert says, "are all a case
of knives," piercing their souls and not a ray of comfort, nor a word
of promise succors them! It is clear, then, that God does not always
show His immutable love to His people in the way which they might
select. His wine is not sent to us always in golden flagons, nor His
apples of love in baskets of gold. Good comes in a chariot of fire and
mercy rides on the pale horse.
But, for all that, God reveals Himself comfortably to His saints in
proof of His faithfulness in a timely and sure manner. Turn to the
second verse and learn that we may be as if dead for two days, but no
child of God can be dead eternally. We may lie buried in the sepulcher
of our despair for two days and nights–nights cold and days black–but
"the third day He will raise us up." We cannot raise ourselves up, but
He will raise us up! God, who raises the dead, is our Savior. Glory be
to His name, we may be as dead and lifeless and as far removed from
right desires as the carcasses that rot beneath the sod, but He will
raise us up and, "we shall live in His sight"!
What would we do when God leaves us to be cast down and to feel our
spiritual death and emptiness, if it were not for such a promise as
this which certifies the soul sepulchered in sorrow the Lord will raise
up? If your heart is right towards God and you are, indeed, trusting in
none but Christ, it is no more possible for you to die of despair than
for Christ Himself to return to the tomb! He must rise when the third
morning comes, and so must you. Death cannot hold the immortal Son when
once the hour of Resurrection dawns–and despair and darkness cannot
hold the Believer in Jesus one moment longer in bondage when the decree
of deliverance goes forth. The promise will yet come forth to meet you
with tabouret and harp!
The Holy Spirit will yet shed abroad in your heart the love of God like
the oil of joy! You shall be crowned with loving kindnesses as with
sweet flowers, and with consolations as with wines on the lees shall
you be refreshed. Not all the devils in Hell shall be able to stop you
of your glorying, or imprison your quickened energy! You who are
passing through the valley of the shadow of death may look for the sun
rising! Angels' wings are bringing consolations for you! O Mourner,
mourning dies at morning! Still cling to Jesus in your extremity and
believe that He is able to save to the uttermost and you shall live to
sing of judgment and of mercy in the great congregation of the
faithful!
"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." You shall
pass through the gate of tears into the sea of pearls! You shall cross
by the bridge of sighs to the palace of content! The bittern and the
owl shall fly away and the lark and the nightingale shall sing of
bliss! You may groan and sigh like a Jeremy, but you shall yet dance
and feast like a David! The tents of Kedar shall no more enclose you,
but you shall dwell between the curtains of Solomon! "All in good time
when wisdom ordains the hour." Mordecai, who sat in sackcloth at the
gate, shall ride in triumph from the palace. And Job, penniless upon
his dunghill, shall have twice as much as before!
This fact is, in the text, illustrated by two metaphors. It is said
that the child of God who follows on in the path of faith, despite the
wounding and the striking which he may suffer, shall without doubt know
the faithfulness of God whose, "going forth is prepared as the
morning." Observe this figure, for it is very comforting and
instructive. Note the preparation spoken of. The morning comes not
unlooked for, like one in haste, with hair disheveled and garments in
disarray. In the gloomiest watch of the night preparations are being
made for the dawning of the day. The sun's flaming
chariot is hastening with glowing axles along the celestial road to
reach again that eastern clime from which he comes to us sowing the
earth with orient pearls.
As soon as the earth, by its continued revolutions, has taken Great
Britain away from the light of the sun, it begins at once to hasten its
return. Every moment of the night this portion of our planet is moving
on towards the light. The world is spinning round in the silent hours
of night so as to bring our little island as speedily as possible once
more under the morning rays. On the black wings of night the dawning is
hastening. Even thus, at the worst period of our sorrows, there is a
preparation being made for a turn of the tide! Our winter is making
ready for our summer! You tell me you do not see how this can be so,
but even you might see it if you would consider, and, if you cannot see
it, at any rate I pray you believe it, for surely it is so.
God you clearly see in Nature is bringing on the morning by allowing
the passage of the night–and within your heart He is preparing you for
joy, brightness and comfort by your present sorrows. Is He not teaching
you to value His Presence by making you know how bitter it is to be
without it? Is He not humbling you that it may be safe to exalt you?
Emptying you that there may be more room for His fullness? Is He not
now sharpening your spiritual desires and quickening your heavenly
appetites to make the feast of His love the more welcome? Is He not now
purging you, but not with silver–refining you in the furnace of
affliction, that you may be made a vessel unto honor–fit for the
Master's use? Oh, yes, the morning is prepared for you! Faith's eye can
detect the first streaks of the light upon the horizon. Hope is already
come to you like a John the Baptist, to foretell the coming of the
Lord! Sing, for the day breaks and the shadows flee away.
But the text not only speaks of preparation–the figure evidently sets
forth certainty. The Lord's goings forth of mercy are as sure as the
return of day. No power known to us can put off tomorrow morning by so
much as an hour. It is ordained that the sun shall rise at such a time
and rise it will. The publication of an Act of Parliament by which the
night should be prolonged would be an act of insanity. The gathering
together of all the armies of the nations to hold back the sun, even
for a single second, from his predestinated time of rising would be a
monstrous freak of madness! Surely the sun, all blithely rising from
his rest, would look upon the nations of the earth assembled to stay
his course and scatter his laughing beams among them–darting his rays
from his quiver as the swift-winged arrows of contempt!
Truly thus it is with the Presence of God in the regenerate soul.
Saints have their times to mourn and mourn they must. But in their time
of dancing they shall dance, let who will howl at their sacred mirth.
If April has its showers, May shall have its flowers. When God
appoints, none can alter it. The joy which is sown for the righteous
shall grow into waving sheaves–and blight nor withering wind shall
prevent the golden ears. When God's time comes to turn mourning into
joy, none shall say no to Him! Neither shall cold death freeze the
genial current of our soul, nor Hell obscure with rising smoke the
landscape of our hope! Nor sin, with serpent's trail, defile our Eden's
joys! Nor trouble, with its rough wind, sweep through the bowers of our
bliss! The King shall walk with us in the quiet garden of meditation
and our joy shall be full!
Rejoice in this, Believer! Your hope does not lie in what is in you.
Your darkness is very dark, but the sun is bright–exceedingly
bright–and God, at His own time shall bid the light come streaming
into your soul! The figure brings before us not only the idea of
preparation and certainty, but that of naturalness. Art and science
could not have done so well what Nature achieves with Divine
simplicity. There is no light like that of the sun! God does gloriously
what we could not do with all our toils. Brethren, I have tried,
oftentimes, when I have lost the light of my Lord's Countenance, to set
myself right by earnest efforts, but I have never succeeded. I have
tried to make myself earnest, to make myself believing, to make myself
spiritually-minded, but it is wretched work! It is an attempt to pump
sweet water out of a sour soil!
But let the Lord Himself appear–and He will appear when we give up all
our own attempts and cast ourselves wholly upon Him–then what we could
not do in that we were weak through the flesh–is all accomplished at
once, to the glory of our God and to the sweet solace of our soul!
Observe that this metaphor of the morning sets forth the glorious
efficiency of the Grace of God. The morning never fails to light up the
land on which it smiles. The illumination is never half done–the light
is bright, clear, effectual–no darkness visible, or mingled gloom and
gleam! The sun, itself, wears an excess of brightness upon which no eye
of mortal man may steadfastly gaze. And from that central orb, over
hill and valley, rolls a flood of glory unrivalled in its splendor.
Thus let the Lord but once come into our poor dark souls, how bright
they become! Let Him but visit us and the barren woman does keep house
and becomes a joyous mother of children! We who were farthest off from
God and thought ourselves to be withered branches and dead plants
yielding not so much as a bud for the Master's Glory, even we begin to
sprout and bring forth fruit! Yes, and fruit unto perfection, like
Aaron's famous rod of old. We are made to wonder, as we see God's
handiwork in such poor creatures as we are. Let no Christian despair!
Let no child of God, in his long wintry nights, begin to mistrust his
God! His coming forth is as the morning and it shall be such a coming!
Oh, such a coming that your soul, now so empty, shall not merely be
filled, but shall overflow! The Lord will not give a mere sip to you
who are thirsty, but He has said it, "I will pour water upon him that
is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground." All, and more than all
your heart can desire, shall be furnished you at the coming of your
Master!
The second figure is equally beautiful, "He shall come unto us as the
rain, as the latter and former rain unto the earth." There were two
great rains in Palestine. One rain fell at the time when the seed was
cast into the ground. Almost as soon as the farmer who watched the
seasons had turned over the soil and dropped in his golden grain, there
fell heavy showers which lasted for some time. Usually rain did not
fall again for months, but it returned again when the ear was well
formed and needed filling up.
The farmer was always thankful for the rain. It plumped out the seed
and when the return of fair weather ripened it, the harvest was
abundant. Now the Lord's Presence is to all His people as the two rains
to the seed. What a shower of Grace He gives us when first the seed is
sown in our hearts!–
"What peaceful hours we then enjoyed, How sweet their memory still!"
Well do we recollect the love of our espousals, the time of peace and
of drawing near to God. Those first early years of our religion were
very, very happy. We grew as the lily and we cast forth our roots like
the cedars of Lebanon. All went well with us. But with many a Christian
the lament is put up–
"They have left an aching void,
The world can never fill."
Beloved, you should be looking out for the next rain. You have had one,
you shall have another. God will give you a shower of blessings–it may
be today. You are very barren. Well, it is to the barren and to the dry
that God delights to give His mercy! If the Grace of God only came to
those who deserved it, it would not be Grace at all! If it only visited
those who could claim it, it would be a matter of debt and not a free
gift! But since it is the wish of God to give His Grace to the most
unworthy, why should He not give it to you and to me? Since He gives
the riches of His love to those who need them most, then, my Heart, put
up your claim, for none need it more than you do! If you can but look
right out of yourself to your God and trust in Him, then be assured as
the rain falls upon the thirsty pastures of the wilderness and fills
the pools and makes the little hills rejoice on every side, so your God
who visited you before will deal graciously with you again and turn
your barrenness into verdure and all your drought into plenty! Lord,
let it be so and we will bless Your name!
This is what our heavenly Father aims at to get praise from the lips of
His children. Let us offer prayer in our inmost heart, today, that our
Lord Jesus, the Beloved of our souls, may come down like rain upon the
mown grass and that the result in us may bring to God a revenue of
Glory from refreshed hearts. Beloved, the drift of all this is just
this–earnest Christians, in toiling towards Heaven, often grow faint
and in year after year of the pursuit of righteousness, human nature
becomes weary of the daily watching unto prayer. But the Lord is
faithful and He will strengthen His saints for the pilgrimage, lest
they faint or turn aside. The Lord will renew the strength of those who
wait on Him, so that they shall hold on their way.
Poor traveler to Mount Zion, the devil tells you that you will soon
turn back unto perdition, but be of good courage, mighty is He that is
in you! His Grace is sufficient for you! The Divine life within you
will not stop its sacred impulse for the holy and the heavenly till it
has brought you up from the wilderness and lodged you within the palace
gate of Jehovah!
II. Now, with too short a time to deal rightly with it, let us take the
second text. The second text speaks of THE INCONSTANCY OF MEN TO GOD.
Though there are many illustrations of this sad fact, I shall only take
one, namely, that which unconverted people so constantly furnish us
with. Not many days ago I thought I saw the Alps. I have stood on the
platform at Berne and viewed with growing wonder that magnificent range
of the snow-clad Alps. and the other
day within a few miles of this spot, in our own county of Surrey, I saw
upon the horizon clouds which were the very facsimile of Switzerland's
glorious mountains!
To me there seemed no perceptible difference–the snowy masses of cloud
were the exact counterpart of the Alps. Had I just risen from my sleep
and not known where I was, I should have said, "I am at Berne, looking
at the mountains which I saw years ago." Yet before some five minutes
had passed, the fair vision had melted away and there were no peaks of
granite there, but mere aggregations of vapor. How often have I seen
Christians, as I have thought–and as all others have thought–and I
have rejoiced and blessed God over what seemed converted men and women!
But before long we have had clear proof that we have been grossly
deceived.
There was goodness in them–the text calls it "goodness"–but it was
only such nominal goodness as nature boasts of and it vanished "like
the morning cloud." Observe the contrasting metaphor–God's love is the
morning. Man's fair promise is but the morning cloud. A mist is often
seen in Palestine early in the morning and the farmer hopes that the
drought will come to an end. But it mocks his hopes and there is no
rain–the cloud is exhaled in the sun and the earth is as parched as
ever.
Early dew is also mentioned as a very fleeting thing. A child of the
night, it is gone when the sun looks upon it. So is it with the
religion of hundreds of people of whom we, in charity, judge hopefully,
but concerning whom we are deceived. Many hear a sermon and are
impressed, but their impression is soon gone. They remind one of the
famous preacher who, while earnestly exciting the people by a
description of the next world and the terrors of it, when he saw them
all bursting into tears and using their handkerchiefs freely, stopped
and said, "Dry your eyes, for I have something much more terrible to
tell you than anything I have as yet spoken. It is this–you will, all
of you, forget the impressions that are made today and go your way to
live as you have done before."
This is the worst point of all, that after bearing a true report to our
fellow men concerning most weighty matters, the messengers of the Truth
of God are forced to cry, "Who has believed our report and to whom is
the arm of the Lord revealed?" Our hearers appear to believe, but
having eyes they see not, and having ears they hear not so as to
understand. Some cases are particularly painful to remember because
their impressions continue–so continue that they reform their manners.
They begin to pray. Spiritual life apparently visits them. They take a
great delight in holy company. They are much in reading the Word.
And yet all is gone and the men become as before. We have seen so much
about certain people that we thought admirable, that we were ready to
think if they were not converted we were not! And yet they have gone
back, and the House of God sees them no more–or if the House sees
their bodily presence, yet their heart is not in the worship. I fear we
get a sad number of this sort into Church membership. Young people,
impressed early when they have not known temptation, because they have
not gone out from their parents' homes, too often disappoint us in
later life. The seed springs up, but under the hot sun of temptation it
withers away.
Ah, and this is sad. According to the text it is mournful to the heart
of God Himself that there should be goodness enough to be comparable to
a cloud and to dew, and yet, like both cloud and dew the goodness
should utterly pass away. Brothers and Sisters, you see the case before
us–you see how like the hopefulness of some is to the reality that is
in others–how near akin the morning cloud is to the morning and how
like that early dew is to the heavenly shower! What is the reason why
so many thus deceive themselves and us? Is not it, in most cases, the
lack of a deep perception of sin? Though I rejoice in sudden
conversions, I entertain grave suspicions of those suddenly happy
people who seem never to have sorrowed over their sin.
I am afraid that those who come by their religion so very lightly often
lose it quite as lightly. Saul of Tarsus was converted on a sudden, but
no man ever went through a greater horror of darkness than he did
before Ananias came to him with the words of comfort. I like deep
plowing– skimming topsoil is poor work! The tearing of the soil under
surface is greatly needed. After all, the most lasting Christians
appear to be those who have seen their inward disease to be very deeply
seated and loathsome–and after awhile have been led to see the Glory
of the healing hand of the Lord Jesus as He stretches it out in the
Gospel. I am afraid that in much modern religion there is a lack of
depth on all points–they neither deeply tremble nor greatly rejoice!
They neither much despair nor much believe.
Oh, beware of pious veneering! Beware of the religion which consists in
putting on a thin slice of godliness over a mass of carnality! We must
have thorough work within! The Grace which reaches the core and affects
the innermost spirit
is the only Grace worth having! To put all in one word, a lack of the
Holy Spirit is the great cause of religious instability. Beware of
mistaking excitement for the Holy Spirit–or your own resolutions for
the deep workings of the Spirit of God in the soul! All that ever
Nature paints God will burn off with hot irons. All that Nature ever
spins God will unravel and cast away with the rags.
You must be born from above! You must have a new Nature worked in you
by the finger of God Himself! Of all His saints it is written, "You are
His workmanship, created anew in Christ Jesus." Oh, but everywhere, I
fear, there is a lack of the Holy Spirit! There is much getting up of a
tawdry morality, barely skin deep, much crying, "Peace, peace," where
there is no peace and very little deep heart-searching anxiety to be
thoroughly purged from sin. Well-known and well-remembered Truths of
God are believed without an accompanying impression of their weight!
Hopes are flimsily formed and confidences ill-founded–and it is this
which makes deceivers so plentiful, and fair shows after the flesh so
common.
According to the text–and I ask your solemn attention to this
remark–such persons are the objects of Mercy's anxiety. Observe it–it
looks as if Justice and Mercy held a dialogue. "O Ephraim, what shall I
do unto you?" "Sweep him away," says Justice, "the man vows and
promises, only to play the liar's part! He says he will repent, but
turns again like a dog to his vomit! He declares he will be saved, but
he goes back like a sow that is washed to her wallowing in the mire."
"Spare him," says Mercy, "spare him, O God! You can yet give him a new
heart instead of that fickle heart and a right spirit in lieu of that
wayward spirit! He is a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke, but, Lord,
You have broken others into Your service, break him in also!"
So Justice urges one thing and Mercy pleads another and therefore the
conflict, "O Ephraim, what shall I do unto you? O Judah, what shall I
do unto you?" The Lord has two courses open to Him. The first is He can
leave you altogether. The man has heard the Gospel. He has had it
preached to him affectionately and he has felt its power in a measure.
He shall never hear it again–and if he goes down to Hell, he cannot
say he had not an opportunity. He will not be able, amidst the fires of
the pit, to say, "I never heard the Gospel and I never was impressed
with it." "Mercy," says Justice, "you have had your turn, the man has
had enough of you and he is not bettered by you. Come, put up your
silver scepter, Mercy, I have a more potent weapon. Let me try my
sharp, two-edged sword. They who will not bend shall break and he who
will not stoop shall be dashed to the ground as with a rod of iron."
Our compassionate God has, however, another alternative and that is to
try something more with you deceptive ones. I could wish that some of
you unconverted people who have been hearing me a long while would not
come to this Tabernacle again. I speak out of kindness. I wish, if God
would be pleased to convert you by somebody else, that you might be led
at once to attend that ministry which He will bless to your souls.
Perhaps I am not adapted to your case. Perhaps the Lord will never make
use of me as a net to take such a fish as you are. Well, try somebody
else, but, oh, do not grow so used to my voice as to go to sleep under
it and so sleep yourselves into Hell! May the Lord resolve, "I will
send another preacher."
If my Master takes me away to my grave and sends another who will be
blessed to you, I am well content. Perhaps, however, the Lord will try
what Providence can do with you. You have lost your wife, what if He
takes away the child? Or, good mother, you have buried a dear child and
your darling's going to Heaven has not tempted you to the skies. What
if the Lord takes away your husband? If He loves you, He will not give
you up nor spare your feelings, but will bring you to repentance by any
means, however severe! If the Lord does not give you up and you do not
soon repent, it will come to this–He will strip every earthly comfort
away from you! He will hedge up your way with thorns and so will compel
you to come to Himself!
It may be that some of you will never be saved while you are well-to-do
in this world. Well, then, the very mercy of God will make you poor
and, perhaps, when your belly is hungry like the prodigal's, you will
cry, "I will arise and go to my Father." This I am sure of–if the Lord
takes the alternative of not giving you up, but of saving you–if He
tries gentle means and they succeed not, He will turn to rougher
methods. You shall be beaten with many stripes! The fire shall burn up
your comforts. The moth and rust shall consume your treasures. The
light of your eyes shall be taken from you at a stroke. Your children
shall die before your eyes, or the partner of your bosom shall be laid
in the grave–for by any means God will bring you in. He has determined
to save you and He will do it, let it cost what it may!
He spared not His own Son to save you and He will not spare yours. Nor
will He spare your body. You shall be worn with disease and wasted with
sickness. You shall have misery of soul and despair of heart–but He
will save you if He so
resolves upon it. And for this you shall one day bless His name and
kiss the rod by which He chastened you to Himself! He seems to me to
say this morning to those of you who are unsaved after many
impressions, "What more can I do than I have done?" And the answer must
be, "Lord, there is only one thing more. Send Your Divine Spirit this
morning on dove-like wings and change my poor heart. Lord, You have
tried the means, now come to me Yourself. O my God, I am undone, I am
lost! I am hopeless! But there is one hope left! Your arm can save!
Your eyes can pity and Your voice can comfort."
O God, this morning, in Your plenteous mercy, deal graciously with such
souls and let Your mercy be extolled in the very highest as You lift up
the beggar from the dunghill to set him among princes! I feel the hope
in my own soul that to some of the most despairing and sad the true
light has already come and from now on they shall rejoice! God make it
so, for Jesus' sake. Amen.
PORTIONS OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Hosea 6 and Luke 8:4-13.