DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, MAY 1, 1870,
BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"And in that day you shall say, O Lord, I will praise You: though You
were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me."
Isaiah 12:1.
THIS prophesy is said by some to relate to the invasion by Sennacherib.
That calamity threatened to be a very terrible display of Divine anger.
It seemed inevitable that the Assyrian power would make an utter
desolation of all Judea. But God promised that He would interpose for
the deliverance of His people and punish the stout heart of the king of
Assyria. And in that day His people should say, "We will praise You
though You were angry with us, and therefore sent the Assyrian monarch
to chastise us. Your anger is turned away, and You comfort us."
If this is the meaning of it, it is an instance of sanctified
affliction–and it is a lesson to us that whenever we smart under the
rod, we may look forward to the time when the rod shall be withdrawn.
And it is also an admonition to us that when we escape from trial we
should take care to celebrate the event with grateful praise. Let us
set up the pillar of memorial, let us pour the oil of gratitude upon
it, and garland it with song, blessing the Lord whose anger endures but
for a moment, but whose mercy is from everlasting to everlasting.
It is thought by others that this text mainly relates to the latter
days, and I think it would be impossible to read the eleventh chapter
without feeling that such a reference is clear. There is to be a time
when the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the lion shall eat straw like
the ox, and the weaned child shall put his hand in the cockatrice den.
Then the Lord will set His hand again, the second time, to recover the
remnant of His people. Then He will repeat His wondrous works of Egypt
and at the Red Sea, so that the song of Moses shall be rehearsed again,
"The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation: He is
my God, and I will prepare Him an habitation; my father's God, and I
will exalt Him."
In that day the Jewish people upon whose head the blood of Christ has
come, who these many centuries have been a people scattered and peeled,
and sifted as in a sieve throughout all nations–even these shall be
restored to their own land–and the dispersed of Judah from the four
corners of the earth. They shall participate in all the glories of the
millennial reign, and with joy shall they draw water out of the wells
of salvation. In those days, when all Israel shall be saved, and Judah
shall dwell safely, the jubilant thanksgiving shall be heard, "O Lord,
I will praise You. For though You were angry with me, Your anger is
turned away, and You comfort me."
The whole people shall sing with such unanimity, with such undivided
heart that they shall speak as though they were but one man. They shall
use the singular where their numbers might require the plural, "I will
praise You," shall be the exclamation of the once divided but then
united people!
Although both these interpretations are true, and both instructive, the
text is many-sided and bears another reading. We shall find out the
very soul of the passage if we consider it as an illustration of what
occurs to every one of God's people when he is brought out of darkness
into God's marvelous light. When he is delivered from the spirit of
bondage beneath Divine wrath and led by the Spirit of Adoption into the
liberty wherewith Christ makes him free. In that day I am sure these
words are fulfilled. The Believer does then say right joyously, "O
Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is
turned away, and You comfort me."
In regarding the text from this point of view, we shall first observe
the prelude of this delightful song. And then, secondly, we shall
listen to the song itself.
I. First I shall ask your consideration of THE PRELUDE of this charming
song. Here are certain preliminaries to the music. They are contained
in the first line of the text. "In that day you shall say." Here we
have the tuning of the harps, the notes of the music follow in the
succeeding sentences. Much of instruction is couched in these seven
words of prelude. Note then, first, there is a time for that joyous
song which is here recorded. "In that day." The term, "that day,"
is sometimes used for a day of terror, and often for a period of
blessing. The common term to both is this–they were both days of the
manifestation of Divine power.
"That day," a day of terrible confusion to God's enemies. "That day," a
day of great comfort to God's friends. The day being in either case the
time of the making bare of God's arm and the manifestation of His
strength. Now, the day in which a man rejoices in Christ is the day in
which God's power is revealed on his behalf in his heart and
conscience, and the Holy Spirit subdues him to the reign of Christ. It
is not always that God works with such effectual power as this in the
human heart–He has His set times. Oftentimes the word of human
ministry proves ineffectual–the preacher exhorts, the hearer listens,
but the exhortation is not obeyed. It sometimes happens that even
desires may be excited, and yet nothing is accomplished, for these
better feelings prove to be as those spring blossoms on the trees which
do not knit and fall fruitless to the ground.
There is, however, an appointed time for the calling of God's elect, a
set time in which the Lord visits His chosen with a power of Grace
which they cannot effectually resist. He makes them willing in the day
of His power. It is a day in which not only is the Gospel heard, but
our report is believed, because the arm of the Lord is revealed. To
everything, according to Solomon, there is a season–a time to break
down and a time to build up. A time of war, and a time of peace. A time
to kill, and a time to heal. And even so, there is a time for
conviction and a time for consolation.
With some who are in great distress of spirit, it may be God's time to
wound and to kill. Their self-confidence is yet too vigorous, their
carnal righteousness is yet too lively. Their confidences must be
wounded, their righteousness must be killed. For otherwise they will
not yield to Grace. God does not clothe us till He has stripped us. He
does not heal till first He has wounded. How should He make alive those
who are not dead? There is a work of Grace in the heart of digging out
the foundations before Grace begins to build up our hopes–woe to that
man who builds without having the foundation dug out–for his house
will fall. Woe to that man who leaps into a sudden peace without ever
having felt his need of pardon, without repentance, without brokenness
of spirit. He shall see his hasty fruit wither before his eyes.
The time when God effectually blesses is sometimes called "a time of
love." It is a time of deep distress to us, but it is a time of love
with God–a time wisely determined in the decree and counsel of the
Most High–so that healing mercy arrives at the best time to each one
who is interested in the Covenant of Grace. Someone may enquire, "When
do you think will be the time when God will enable me to say, 'Your
anger is turned away'? " My dear Brother, you can easily discern it! I
believe God's time to give us comfort is usually when we are brought so
low as to confess the justice of the wrath which He is pouring upon us.
Humbleness of heart is one sure indication of coming peace. A German
nobleman some years ago went over the galleys at Toulon. There he saw
many men condemned by the French government to perpetual toil at the
galley oar on account of their crimes. Being a prince in much repute,
he obtained the favor that he should give liberty to one of the
captives. He went about among them, and talked to them, but found in
every case that they thought themselves wrongly treated, oppressed, and
unrighteously punished. At last he met with one who confessed, "In my
case my sentence is a most just and even a merciful one. If I had not
been imprisoned in this way I should most likely have long ago been
executed for some still greater crime. I have been a very great
offender, and the law is doing nothing more than it ought to do in
keeping me in confinement for the rest of my life."
The German nobleman returned to the manager of the galleys and said,
"This is the only man in all this gang that I would wish to set free,
and I elect him for liberty." It is so with our great Liberator, the
Lord Jesus Christ, when He meets with a soul that confesses its
demerit, owns the justice of Divine wrath, and has not a word to say
for itself. Then He says, "Your sins which are many are forgiven you."
The time when His anger is turned away is the time when you confess the
justice of His anger, and bow down and humbly entreat Him for mercy.
Above all, the hour of Grace has struck when you look ALONE to Christ.
While you are looking to any good thing in yourself, and hoping to grow
better, or to do better, you are making no advances towards comfort.
But when you give up in despair every hope that can be grounded in
yourself and look away to those dear wounds of His–to that suffering
humanity of the Son or God who stooped from Heaven for you–then has
the day dawned wherein you shall say, "O Lord, I will praise You." I
pray earnestly that this set time to favor you may be now come–the
time when the rain is over, and the voice of the turtle is heard in
your land.
Looking again at the preliminaries of this song you notice that a word
indicates the singer. "In that day you shall say." "You." It is a
singular pronoun, and points out one individual. One by one we receive
eternal life and peace. "You," the individual, "you," singled out to
feel in your conscience God's wrath. You are equally selected to enjoy
Jehovah's love. Ah, Brethren, it is never a day of Grace to us till we
are taken aside from the multitude and set by ourselves. Our
individuality must come out in conversion–even if it never appears at
any other time. You fancy, so many of you, that it is all right with
you because you live in a Christian nation. I tell you it is woe unto
you! Having outward privileges they involve you in responsibilities,
but bring you no saving Grace.
Perhaps you fancy that your family religion may somewhat help you, and
the erroneous practices of certain Christian Churches may foster this
delusion, but it is not so. There is no birthright godliness–"You must
be born again." The first birth will not help you, for, "That which is
born of the flesh is flesh. And that which is born of the Spirit is
spirit." Still, I know you fancy that if you mingle in godly
congregations, and sing as they sing, and pray as they pray, it shall
go well with you–but it is not so. The wicket gate of eternal life
admits but one at a time. Is it not written, "You shall be gathered one
by one, O you children of Israel"?
Don't you know that when the fountain is opened in the house of David
for sin and for uncleanness, it is declared by the Prophet Zechariah,
"The land shall mourn, every family apart. The family of the house of
David apart, and their wives apart. The family of the house of Nathan
apart, and their wives apart. The family of the house of Levi apart,
and their wives apart. The family of Shimei apart, and their wives
apart. All the families that remain, every family apart, and their
wives apart"! You must each one be brought to feel the Divine anger in
your souls, and to have it removed from you, that you may rejoice in
God as your salvation.
Has it been so with you, then, dear Hearer? Are you that favored
singer? Are you one of that chosen throng who can say, "Your anger is
turned away, and You comfort me"? Away with generals. Be not satisfied
except with particulars. Little matters it to you that Christ should
die for ten thousand men, if you have no part in His death. Little
blessing is it to you that there should be joy from myriads of hearts
because they are pardoned if you should die unpardoned! Seek a personal
interest in Christ, and do not be satisfied unless in your own heart
you have it satisfactorily revealed that your sin in particular is by
an act of Grace put away.
I like to remember that this word, "you," is spoken to those who have
been by sorrow brought into the last degree of despair. "In that day
you shall say, though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned
away." You poor downtrodden Heart, where are you? You Woman of a
sorrowful spirit, rejoice, for in that day of mercy you shall sing. You
broken-hearted Sinner, ready to destroy yourself because of the anguish
of conscience–in the day of God's abounding mercy you shall rejoice,
even you–and your note shall be all the sweeter because you have had
the most sin to be forgiven, and felt most the anger of God burning in
your soul. Dwell on that, Mourners, and God grant it may be realized
personally by yourselves.
The next thing to be noted in the preliminaries is the Teacher. "In
that day you shall say," who says this? It is God alone who can so
positively declare, "you shall say." Who but the Lord can thus command
man's heart and speech? It is the Lord alone. He who has made us is
master of our spirits. By His Omnipotence He rules in the world of mind
as well as matter, and all things happen as He ordains. He says, "In
that day," that is, in God's own time, "you shall say." And He who thus
declares will make good the word. Here is revealed God's will–and what
the Lord wills shall be accomplished. What He declares shall be spoken,
shall assuredly be spoken.
Here is consolation to those feeble folk who fear the Word will not be
fulfilled. "You shall say," is a Divine Word and cannot fail. The Lord,
alone, can give a man the right to say, "Your anger is turned away." If
any man presumes to say, "God has turned His anger away from me,"
without a warrant from the Most High, that man lies to his own
confusion. But when it is written, "You shall say," it is as though God
had said, "I will make it true, so that you shall be fully justified in
the declaration." Yet more comfort is here, for even when the right to
such a blessing is bestowed, we are often unable to enjoy it because of
weakness.
Unbelief is frequently so great that many things which are true we
cannot receive. Under a sense of sin we are so desponding that we think
God's mercy too great for us. And therefore we are not able to
appropriate the blessing presented to us, though it is inexpressibly
delightful. Blessed be God, the Holy Spirit knows how to chase away our
unbelief and give us power to embrace the blessing! He can make us
accept the Covenant favor and rejoice in it so as to avow the joy.
There are some of you whom I have tried to induce to believe
comfortable truths about yourselves, but you have fairly defeated me. I
have put the Gospel plainly to you, for I have felt sure that its
promises were meant for you. And I have said within my heart, "Surely
they will be comforted this morning. Certainly their broken hearts will
be bound up by that gracious Word." But oh, I cannot make you say,
"Lord, I will praise You." I am unable to lead you to faith and peace.
Here, however, is my joy–my Master can do what His servant cannot! He
can make the tongue of the dumb sing. He delights to look after
desperate cases. Man's extremity becomes His opportunity.
Where the most affectionate words of ours fail, the consolations of His
blessed Spirit are divinely efficacious. He cannot merely bring the oil
and the wine, but He knows how to pour them into the wounds and heal
the anguish of the contrite spirit. I pray the Master that He who alone
can teach us to sing this song may graciously instruct those of you who
have been seeking rest these many months, and finding none. "I am the
Lord which teaches you to profit." He can put a song into your mouth,
for nothing is beyond the range of Divine Grace.
Once more. "In that day you shall say." Here is another preliminary of
the song, namely, the tone of it. "You shall say, O Lord, I will praise
You." The song is to be an open one, avowed, vocally uttered, heard of
men and published abroad. It is not to be a silent feeling–a kind of
soft music whose sweetness is spent within the spirit. No. In that day
you shall say, you shall speak it outright, you shall testify and bear
witness to what the Lord has done for you! When a man gets his sins
forgiven he cannot help revealing the secret. "When the Lord turned
again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our
mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing."
Even if the forgiven one could not speak with his tongue, he could say
it with his eyes–his countenance, his man-ner–his very gait would
betray him! The gracious secret would ooze out in some fashion.
Spiritual men, at any rate, would find it out, and with thankfulness
mark the joyful evidences. I know that before I found the Savior, had
you known me, you would have observed my solitary habits. And if you
had tracked me to my chamber, and to my Bible, and my knees, you would
have heard groans and sighs which betokened a sorrowful spirit. The
ordinary amusements of youth had in those days few attractions for me,
and conversation, however cheerful, yielded me no comfort.
But that very morning that I heard the Gospel message, "Look unto Me,
and be you saved, all you ends of the earth," I am certain that no
person who knew me could have helped remarking the difference even in
my face! A change came over my spirits, which as I remember was even
indicated in the way in which I walked, for the heavy step of
melancholy was exchanged for a more cheerful pace. The spiritual
condition affects the bodily state, and it was evidently so with me. My
delight at being forgiven was no ordinary sensation, I could have
fairly leaped for joy!–
"All through the night I wept full sore,
But morning brought relief.
That hand which broke my bones before,
Then broke my bonds of grief.
My mourning He to dancing turns,
For sackcloth joy He gives,
A moment, Lord, Your anger burns,
But long Your favor lives."
If I had not avowed my deliverance the very stones must have cried out!
It was not in my heart to keep it back, but I am sure I could not have
done so if I had desired. God's Grace does not come into the heart as a
beggar into a barn, and lie hidden away as if it stole a night's
lodging. No, its arrival is known all over the house, and every chamber
of the soul testifies its presence! Grace is like a bunch of
lavender–it discovers itself by its sweet smell. Like the nightingale
it is heard where it is not seen. Like a spark which falls into the
midst of straw it burns, and blazes, and consumes, and so reveals
itself by its own energetic operations.
O Soul, burdened with sin, if Christ does but come to you, and pardon
you, I will be bound for it that before long all your bones shall say,
"Lord, who is like unto You?" You will be of the same mind as David,
"Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, You God of my salvation: and
my tongue shall sing aloud of Your righteousness." You will gladly say
with him, "Your vows are upon me, O God: I will render praise unto You,
for You have delivered my soul from death." Not only will you soberly
tell what great things Divine Grace has worked for you, but it will be
very unlikely that your exuberant joy may lead you beyond the bounds of
solemn decorum.
The precise and slow going will condemn you, but you need not mind, for
you can offer the same excuse for it as David made to Michal when he
danced before the ark. Far be it from me to condemn you, should you
cry, "Hallelujah," or clap your hands! It is our cold custom to condemn
every demonstration of feeling, but I am sure Scripture does not
warrant us in our condemnation. For we find such passages as these, "O
clap your hands, all you people! Shout unto God with the voice of
triumph." "Praise Him upon the loud cymbals: praise Him upon the high
sounding cymbals." What if the overflowing of holy joy should seem to
be disorderly, what matters it if God accepts it? He who has long been
in prison, when he gets his liberty may well take a frisk or two, and
an extra leap for joy, and who shall begrudge him?
He who has long been hungry and famished, when he sees the table
spread, may be excused if he falls to with more of eagerness than
politeness. Oh, yes, they shall say it, they shall say it, "I will
praise You, O Lord!" In the very disorderli-ness of their demonstration
they shall the more emphatically say, "I will praise You: though You
were angry with me, Your anger is turned away." Thus much on the
prelude of the song. Now let us hear the song itself.
II. In THE SONG ITSELF I would call to your notice the fact that all of
it is concerning the Lord. It is all addressed to Him. "O Lord, I will
praise You: though You were angry, Your anger is turned away." When a
soul escapes from the bondage of sin and becomes consciously pardoned,
it resembles the Apostles on the Mount Tabor, of whom we spoke the
other Sunday morning. It sees no man, save Jesus only. While you are
seeking Grace you think much of the minister, the service, the outward
form–but the moment you find peace in God through the precious blood
of Christ–you will think of your pardoning God only.
Oh, how small everything becomes in the presence of that dear Cross
where God the Savior loved and died! When we think of all our iniquity
being cast into the depth of the sea we can no more boast of anything
that was once our glory. The instrumentality by which peace came to us
will be always dear to us. We shall esteem the preacher of the Gospel
who brings salvation to us to be our spiritual father–but still we
shall never think of praising him–we shall give all the glory to our
God. As for ourselves, self will sink like lead amidst the waters when
we find Christ. God will be All in All when iniquity is pardoned.
I have often thought that if some of my Brethren who preach a Gospel in
which there is little of the Grace of God had felt a little more
conviction of sin in being converted, they would be sure to preach a
clearer and more gracious Gospel. Many nowadays appear to leap into
peace without any convictions of sin–they do not seem to have known
what the guilt of sin means. They scramble into peace before the burden
of sin has been felt. It is not for me to judge, but I must confess I
have my fears of those who have never felt the terrors of the Lord. And
I look upon conviction of sin as a good groundwork for a
well-instructed Christian.
I observe, as a rule, that when a man has been put in the prison of the
Law. When he has been made to wear the heavy chains of conviction, and
at last obtains his liberty through the precious blood of Christ, he is
pretty sure to cry up the Grace of God and magnify Divine mercy. He
feels that in his case salvation must be of Grace from first to last.
And he naturally favors that system of theology which magnifies most
the Grace of God. Those who have not felt this–whose conversion has
been of the more easy kind, produced rather by excitement than by depth
of thought–seem to me to choose a flimsy divinity in which man is more
prominent, and God is less regarded.
I am sure of this one thing–that I personally desire to ascribe
conversion in my own case entirely to the Grace of God–and to give God
the glory of it. And I dread that conversion which could in any degree
deprive God of being in His everlasting decrees the cause of it, by His
effectual Spirit the direct Agent of it, by His continued working
through the Holy Spirit the Perfecter of it. Give God the praise, my
Brethren. You must do so if you have thoroughly experienced what God's
anger means, and what the turning away of it means.
The next thing in this song is that it includes repentant memories. "O
Lord, I will praise You: though You were angry with me." There was a
time when God was to our consciousness angry with us. When was that?
And how did we know that God was angry with us? Outsiders think when we
talk about conversion that we are merely talking of sentimental
theories. But let me assure you that it is as much matter offact to us
with regard to our spiritual nature, as your feelings of sickness and
of recovery are real and actual to you. Time was when some of us read
the Word of God, as we read it, believing it to be an Inspired Book, we
perceived that it contained a Law, holy and just–the breach of which
was threatened with eternal death.
As we read it we discovered that we had broken that Law, not in some
points, but in all. And we were obliged, as we read it, to feel that
all the sentences of that Book against sinners were virtually sentences
against us. We may perhaps have read these chapters before, but we had
given them no serious thought until on this occasion we were led to see
that we stood condemned by the Law of God as contained in Holy
Scripture. Then we felt that God was angry with us. It was not a mere
idea of ours–we had this Book in evidence of it. If that Book were
indeed true, we felt we were condemned. We dared not think the old Book
to be a cunningly devised fable. We knew it was not, and therefore from
its testimony we concluded that God was angry with us.
At the same time we learned this terrible Truth from the Book–our
conscience suddenly awoke and confirmed the fact, for it said–"What
the Book declares is correct. The just God must be angry with such a
sinful being as you are." Conscience brought to our recollection many
things which we would gladly have forgotten. It revealed to us much of
the evil of our hearts which we had no wish to know. And thus, as we
looked at Scripture by the light of conscience, we concluded in
ourselves that we were in a very dreadful plight, and that God was
angry with us. Then there entered into us at the same time, over and
above all the rest, a certain work of the Holy Spirit called conviction
of sin.
"When He, the Spirit of Truth is come," He shall convict the world of
sin. He has come. And He has convicted us of sin in a way in which the
Scripture would not have done apart from Him–and our conscience would
not have done apart from Him. But His light shone in upon us and we
felt as we never felt before. Then sin appeared exceedingly sinful, as
it was committed against Infinite Love and goodness. Then it appeared
to us as though Hell must soon swallow us up–and the wrath of God must
devour us. Oh, the trembling and the fear, the dismay and the alarm
which then possessed our spirits! And yet, my Brethren, at this very
time, the remembrance of it is cause for thankfulness.
In the Hebrew, the wording of our text is slightly different from what
we get in the English. Our English translators have very wisely put in
the word "though," a little earlier than it occurs in the Hebrew. The
Hebrew would run something like this, "O Lord, I will praise You: You
were angry with me." Now we do this day praise God that He made us feel
His anger. "What?" you say. "What? Is a sense of anger a cause for
praise?" No, my Brethren, not if it stood alone, but because it has
driven us to Christ. If wrath had been laid up for us hereafter, it
would be a cause of horror, deep and dread. But that it was let loose
in measure upon us here, and that we were thus condemned in conscience
that we might not be condemned at last is reason for much thankfulness.
We should never have felt His love if we had not felt His anger. We
laid hold on His mercy because of necessity. No soul will accept Christ
Jesus until it must. It is not driven to faith until it is driven to
self-despair. God's angry face makes Christ's loving face dear to us.
We would never look at the Christ of God, unless first of all the God
of Christ had looked at us through the tempest and made us afraid. "I
will praise You, that You did let me feel Your anger, in order that I
might be driven to discover how that anger could be turned away." So
you see the song in its deep bass note includes plaintive recollections
of sin pressing heavily on the spirit.
The song of our text contains in itself blessed certainties. "I will
praise You: though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away."
Can a man know that? Can a man be quite sure that he is forgiven? Yes,
that he can. He can be as sure of pardon as he is of his existence, as
infallibly certain as he is of a mathematical proposition. "No," says
one, "but how is it?" My Brother, albeit that this is a matter for
spiritual men, yet at the same time it is a matter of certainty as
clearly as anything can be ascertained by human judgment. The
confidence of a man's being pardoned, and God's anger being turned away
from him is not based upon his merely feeling that it is so. Nor his
merely believing that it is go.
You are not pardoned because you work yourself up into a comfortable
frame of mind and think you are pardoned. That may be a delusion. You
are not necessarily delivered from God's anger because you believe you
are–you may be believing a lie, and may believe what you like–but
that does not make it true. There must be a fact going before, and if
that fact is not there, you may believe what you choose, but it is pure
imagination, nothing more.
On what ground does a man know that God's anger is turned away? I
answer thus, on the ground of this Book. "It is written," is our basis
of assurance. I turn to this Book, and I discover that Jesus Christ,
the Son of God, came into this world and became the Substitute for a
certain body of men. That He took their sins, and was punished in their
place in order that God, without the violation of His justice, might
forgive as many as are washed in Christ's blood. My question then is,
for whom did Christ die? The moment I turn to the Scriptures, I find
very conspicuously on its page this declaration, that "Jesus Christ
came into the world to save sinners."
I am a sinner, that I am clear of. That gives me some hope. But I next
find that, "He that believes on Him is not condemned." Looking to
myself I find that I do really believe, that is, I trust Jesus. Very
well, then, I am sure I am not condemned, for God has declared I am
not. I read again, "He that believes and is baptized shall be saved." I
know that I have believed, that is to say, trusted–I trust my
salvation with Christ. And I have also, in obedience to His command
been baptized–then I am saved, and shall be saved, for it says so. Now
this is a matter of Testimony which I receive. He that believes in
Christ receives the Testimony of God–and that is the only Testimony he
wants.
I know it has been thought that you get some special revelation in your
own soul–some flash, as it were, of light– some extraordinary
intimation. But nothing of the kind is absolutely needed. I know that
the Spirit bears witness with our spirits that we are born of God. But
the first essential matter is God's witness in the Word. "He that
believes not God, has made Him a liar, because he believes not the
record that God gave of His Son." God's witness concerning His Son is
this–that if you trust His Son you are saved. His Son suffered for
you. His Son bore the punishment that was due for your sins–God
declares it–that you are forgiven for Christ's sake.
He cannot punish twice for one offense–first His Son and then you. He
cannot demand retribution from His Law to vindicate His justice, first
from your Substitute and then from you. Was Christ your Substitute?
That is the question. He was if you trust Him–your trusting Him is the
evidence that He was a Substitute for you. Now see, then, the moment I,
being under His anger, have come to trust my soul forever in the hands
of Christ, God's anger is turned away from me because it was turned
upon Christ. And I stand, guilty sinner as I am in myself, absolved
before God–and feel that none can lay anything to my charge, for my
sins were laid on Christ, and punished upon Christ–and I am clear.
And now what shall I say unto the Lord, but, "I will praise You: for
though You were angry with me, Your anger is turned away, and You
comfort me." It is a matter of certainty. It is not a matter of "if,"
"and," or "but." It is a fact. This morning you are either forgiven or
you are not. You are either clean in God's sight or else the wrath of
God abides on you. And I beseech you, do not rest till you know which
it is. If you find out that you are unforgiven, seek the Savior.
"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." But if you
believe in Him, you are no longer guilty–you are forgiven. Do not sit
down and fret as if you were guilty, but enjoy the liberty of the
children of God. Being justified by faith, have peace with God through
Jesus Christ your Lord.
Time fails me, but I must add that our song includes holy
resolutions–"I will praise You." I will do it with my heart in secret.
I will get alone and make my expressive silence sing Your praise. I
will sit and pour out liquid songs in tears of gratitude, welling up
from my heart. I will praise You in the Church of God, for I will
search out other Believers, and I will tell them what God has done for
me. I will cast in my lot with Your people–if they are despised, I
will bear the shame with them–and count it honor. I will unite myself
to them, and help them in their service. And if I can magnify Christ by
my testimony among them, I will do it.
I will praise You in my life. I will make my business praising You. I
will make my parlor and my drawing room, I will make my kitchen and my
fields praise You. I will not be content unless all I am and all I have
shall praise You. I will make a harp of the whole universe. I will make
earth and Heaven, space and time to be but strings upon which my joyful
fingers shall play lofty tunes of thankfulness. I will praise You, O my
God! My heart is fixed, I will sing and give praise– and when I shall
die, or rather pass from this life to another, I who have been forgiven
so much sin through such a Savior, will, by Your Grace, continue to
praise You–
"Oh, how I long to join the choir Who worship at His feet! Lord, grant
me soon my heart's desire! Soon, soon Your work complete!"
Note once more that this is a song which is peculiar in its character,
and appropriate only to the people of God. I may say of it, "no man
could learn this song but the redeemed." He only who has felt his
vileness, and has had it washed away in the "fountain filled with
blood," can know its sweetness. It is not a Pharisee's song–it has no
likeness to, "God I thank You that I am not as other men." It
confesses, "You were angry with me," and there owns that the singer was
even as others. But it glories that through infinite mercy the Divine
anger is turned away. And herein it leans on the appointed Savior.
It is not a Sadducean song, no doubt mingles with the strain. It is not
the philosopher's query, "There may be a God, or there may not be," it
is the voice of a believing worshipper. It is not, "I may be guilty, or
I may not be." It is all posi-
tive, every note of it. "You were angry with me." I know it, I feel it,
yet, "Your anger is turned away." Of this, too, I am sure. I believe it
upon the witness of God! I cannot doubt His Word. It is a song of
strong faith, and yet of humility. Its spirit is a precious incense
made up of many costly ingredients. We have, here, not one virtue,
alone, but many rare excellences.
Humility confesses, "You were angry with me." Gratitude sings, "Your
anger is turned away." Patience cries, "You comfort me," and holy joy
springs up, and says, "I will praise You." Faith, hope, and love all
have their notes here, from the bass of humility up to the highest alto
of glorious communion, all the different parts are represented. It is a
full song–the swell of the diapason of the heart!
I have done when I have said just these words by way of practical
result from the subject. One is a word of consolation–consolation to
you who are under God's anger this morning. My heart goes out after
you. I know what your sorrow is. I knew it by the space of five years
at a time–when I mourned the guilt and curse of sin. Ah, poor Soul,
you are in a sad plight, indeed. But be of good cheer! You have in your
bosom, if you will believe me, a key which will open every lock in
Doubting Castle wherein you are now confined. If, Man, you have but
heart to take it out of your bosom, and out of the Word of God–and use
it–liberty is near.
I will show you that key–look at it, "Him that comes unto Me I will in
no wise cast out." "Oh, but that does not happen to fit," you say.
Well, here's another–"The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses from
all sin." Does not that meet your case? Then let me try again–"He is
able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him." "To
the uttermost"–dwell on that and be comforted! I never knew God to
shut a soul up in the prison of conviction but He sooner or later
released the captive. The Lord will surely bring you out of the low
dungeon of conviction. The worst thing in the world is to go
unchastened–to be allowed to sin and eat honey with it–this is the
precursor of damnation.
But to sin, and have the wormwood of repentance with it–this is the
prelude of being saved! If the Lord has embittered your sin, He has
designs of love towards you. His anger shall yet be turned away. "When
the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue
fails for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them. I the God of Israel will
not forsake
them."
The next is a word of admonition. Some of you have been forgiven, but
are you praising God as you should? I have heard say that in our
Churches there are no more than five per cent who are doing any real
work for Christ. That is not true of this Church. I should be very
sorry if it were, but I fear there are more than five per cent who are
doing nothing. Where are you who have felt His anger pass away, and yet
are not praising Him? Come, bestir yourself, bestir yourself! Seek to
serve Jesus! Do you not know that you are meant to be the winners of
souls?
The American bee keeper, when he wants to collect a hive, catches first
a single bee. He puts it in a box with a piece of honeycomb and shuts
the door. After awhile, when it is well fed, he lets it out. It comes
back again after more of the sweet, but it brings companions with it.
And when they have eaten the honey they always bring yet a more
numerous band, so by-and-by there is a goodly muster for the hive.
After this fashion ought you to act. If you have found mercy, you ought
to praise God and tell others, so that they may believe. And in their
turn lead others to Jesus. This is the way the kingdom of God grows.
I am afraid you are guilty here. See to it, dear Brother. See to it,
dear Sister–and who can tell of what use you may yet be? There was a
dear servant of Christ who was just on the borders of the grave, very
old and very ill, and frequently delirious, so that the doctors said no
one must go into the chamber except the nurse. A little Sunday school
boy, who was rather curious, peeped in at the door to look at the
minister, and the poor dying servant of God saw him, and the ruling
passion was strong in death. He called him. "David," said he, "did you
ever close in with Christ? I have done so many a time, and I long that
you may." Fifty years after, that boy was living and bearing testimony
that the dying words of the good man had brought him to Jesus–for by
them he was led to close in with Christ.
You do not know what half a word might do if you would but speak it! O
keep not back the good news that might bring salvation to your wife, to
your husband, to your child, to your servant! If you have, indeed, felt
the Lord's anger pass away this morning, go home to your chamber, and
on your knees repeat this vow, "My God, I will praise You! I have been
a sluggard, I have been very silent about You. I am afraid I have not
given You of my substance as I ought. I am sure I have not given You of
my heart as I should. But oh, forgive the past, and accept Your poor
servant yet again. 'Then I will praise You. For though You were angry
with me, Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me.' "
God bless you, for Christ's sake.
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The Model Home Mission and the Model Home Missionary