DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JUNE 12, 1870,
BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"And He marvelled because of their unbelief." Mark 6:6.
THAT Jesus marvelled was in itself a marvel. We never read that either
science or art, Nature or Providence excited His wonder. We do not find
that He marvelled at the grandeur of the Temple, although His disciples
were evidently wonder-struck, for they said, "Master, see what manner
of stones and buildings are here!" Little did His mind dwell upon the
gigantic size of the stones, or the antiquity of the pile, or the
grandeur of the architecture. But His sympathetic soul mourned as it
foresaw the destruction of the whole, and of those who dwelt around
it–and He uttered the prophetic words, "There shall not be left one
stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down."
I do not find the Redeemer marvelled at the force and majesty of the
Roman empire, and yet it wielded a very remarkable power, an
all-pervading and irresistible influence. Out of utter insignificance
the Roman empire had developed itself into a universal monarchy which
locked the entire world in its embrace of iron. Scarcely a dog dared
move his tongue without the leave of Caesar. In every place, whether
sacred or profane, the insignia of the empire were conspicuous. In
every nation, whether polite or barbarous, the tramp of the imperial
legionaries was heard. And the eagles of Rome were fluttering on every
hill and in every dale.
And yet I do not find that Jesus ever marvelled at all the pomp and
energy of the rule of the Caesars. Neither do I find that He was ever
struck with any wonder by the knowledge of the sages and rabbis of His
time, or of any other. There were in His days rabbis who, according to
the opinion of their fellow countrymen, were renowned beyond all
others. So far as rabbinical literature was concerned, our Savior may
be said to have lived in an Augustan period, and yet, however profound
the doctors of the Law might be, they were very shallow as compared
with the Christ of God. No, Jesus never saw any cause in all their
wisdom to marvel.
There were but two occasions when our Lord Jesus is recorded to have
marvelled at all, and both of these were concerning faith. First, he
marvelled at the centurion–"I have not found so great faith, no, not
in Israel." And on the second occasion, He marvelled at the absence of
faith where it might have been expected to be found namely, in His own
fellow townsmen–"He marvelled because of their unbelief."
In the case of the centurion, who said that he was not worthy that the
Lord should come under his roof, he said he relied upon the potency of
the Master's word spoken at any distance to chase out the fever–on the
ground that a word from himself was sufficient to command a soldier to
obedience–and therefore a command from Christ would call diseases to
obedience, too. On the most slender ground comparatively, this Roman,
this Gentile, believed in Christ to a very high degree–ascribing to
Christ the full power of the Omnipotent God–who says to the forces of
Nature, "Do this, and it is done." Jesus, therefore, marvelled that not
in all Israel had He found the faith which He had discovered in this
Gentile who had comparatively slender opportunity of knowing Him, of
hearing His teaching, or of searching into the evidences of His mission
as they were contained in the sacred Books.
On the second occasion our Lord marvelled at His fellow townsmen's
unbelief. So you see that in both instances it was faith, or the
absence of it, that caused Christ to wonder. Ah, my Brethren, see the
importance of faith! Never place that precious Grace in a secondary
position. That which can make Jesus marvel! That which seems to Him to
be both in its presence and in its absence, a thing to be marvelled at,
ought to be a very great point of consideration with us. It should be
frequently thought upon, and always estimated at the highest rate. Have
you believed? No man ever asked you a weightier question. Are you still
in unbelief? No tongue can ever suggest a more solemn enquiry.
Do you believe on the Son of God, or are you yet in the gall of
bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity, wrapped up in your unbelief? O
Heart, that shall soon stand before Him that judges both the quick and
dead, let this question judge you
this day! Turn not aside from the Judgment Seat of the Gospel, lest you
be bound to hear your condemnation from the Judgment Seat of the Law
hereafter!
Let us look for a moment or so into what it was, in the particular case
of unbelief recorded in this chapter, which so remarkably caused the
Savior to marvel. Were not these some of the circumstances? Our Lord
had come into the district where He had been brought up and where He
was well known. He had come there, no doubt, with the most generous
intentions towards His fellow citizens, willing to make their town His
headquarters, and to display His miraculous power in acts of
beneficence towards all their maimed and sick.
But He was met, on His first public appearance as a preacher at the
synagogue, with unbelief. And after awhile was even ejected from the
place–and they even attempted to cast Him down headlong from the brow
of the hill where their city was built. No kindly reception awaited
Him. Cold, stolid unbelief at last turned into cruel, murderous rage.
His wonder must have been this–first, He had come here bringing His
disciples with Him, each man of them was a witness to His mission. They
were truthful men, and some of them were known in the district. They
could all bear witness to the miracles which He had worked, to the
holiness of His life, to the power of His prayers.
He brings these witnesses with Him, and yet they enquire not at their
hands as candid men should do, but under the influence of an unworthy
prejudice they condemn the Savior and deny His claims. He was one of
themselves, they said, and how could He be the Messiah? Thus did they
seem to plead guilty to the opprobrious Proverb, "Can any good thing
come out of Nazareth?" Our Lord's teaching appears to have struck
them–they were astonished at it. And more, "they all bare Him witness,
and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of His mouth"
(Luke 4:22), and yet they did not believe!
Their attention was evidently awakened and their astonishment was
aroused. But yet merely because they happened to know Him, and because
He preached the Gospel too boldly, they allowed their prejudice first
to raise the question, "Is not this a carpenter, the son of Mary?" And
next they rejected Him altogether. They went even further than being
struck with His teaching, for they acknowledged that He had worked bona
fide miracles. They said one to the other, "What wisdom is this which
is given unto Him, that even such mighty works are worked by His
hands?" They did not question the truth of His miracles, they owned
them to be mighty works.
These miracles should surely have proved something, and should at least
have shielded the Worker from the influence of unreasoning prejudice.
And yet they overlooked the overwhelming evidence of His Divine works,
attested as they were by His disciples, and even acknowledged by
themselves. They virtually asked, "How can this be the Christ of God,
seeing He is one of our countrymen, and His mother, and His brothers
and sisters are all with us?"–a reason which was, indeed, no reason,
but a disgrace to themselves, and an ignominious witness to their own
infamy.
I have said that prejudice against the Lord Jesus, because He dwelt in
His youth at Nazareth, and had been brought up among them, was very
unreasonable. But it was the more so, because that very fact gave them
opportunities for knowing who and what He was. If they knew Mary His
mother, why did they not learn His pedigree? They might with but little
trouble have discovered that Mary was of the race and lineage of David.
They might have found, if they had asked the question, that Jesus was
born at Bethlehem. They might readily have learned from His mother
those circumstances which were vivid in her recollection, for we are
told that she kept them and pondered them in her heart.
They might have heard of the midnight song of the angels, of the visits
of the shepherds, of the adoration of the wise men, of the dream of His
reputed father, of the flight into Egypt, and all the other remarkable
circumstances which went to corroborate the testimony that Jesus was
born King of the Jews. They were just in the right place to find
evidence if they had cared for it. But no, with the candle before them
they shut their eyes, or, rather, in broad noonday they groped for the
wall like blind men, because they were resolved not to see. What if
Jesus had been brought up at Nazareth? What but prejudice could urge
that against Him? Was it not an honor to themselves? He must be brought
up somewhere, and being brought up there, they had all the better
opportunities for knowing Him.
They might have known, and must have known something of His holy
Childhood, of that remarkable excellence of disposition, of His being
found in the Temple, of His growth in wisdom and in favor with God and
man, and of the prophecies of Simeon and of Anna concerning Him. Surely
some of there matters were talked of by the well, or at the city gates!
Certainly, we may be sure that as the early history of a young man is
generally known in the village from which he
sets out in life, it must have been known in Nazareth, and have been
spoken of in many a social gathering, that John the Baptist had
declared the Son of Mary to be "the Lamb of God that takes away the sin
of the world."
Surely Nazareth must have become the very focus of His fame, and the
people there must have been placed in a position eminently advantageous
for coming to a correct conclusion with regard to His Person and His
office. For all these things to be set aside simply because of a silly
prejudice arising from His being brought up among them was such a folly
that Christ might well marvel. When all this while they were losing the
incalculably precious blessings of healing, and when they were bringing
upon themselves the curse of having put from them the kingdom of God
merely for an idle prejudice, it was enough to make the Christ of God
wonder at their unbelief.
I shall say nothing more about these Nazarites, but shall pass on to
remark that the unbelief of many here present is equally marvelous in
some respects. I am afraid that most of us will come under censure.
First I shall address myself to those who are saved, who have felt the
power of the Holy Spirit within them renewing their natures. And then,
secondly, I shall speak to you who are hearers of the Gospel, who,
nevertheless, have not believed to the salvation of your souls.
I. I shall speak to THE PEOPLE OF GOD, and I am afraid while I speak,
there will be few of us who will be able to plead guiltless. Jesus
assuredly marvels because of our unbelief–He marvels at the unbelief
of His own people. Let me show first the wonderful forms of unbelief
that are found among the professed people of God. Yes, and among the
real people of God. At times we doubt the wisdom of Providence. We hold
as a cardinal truth that "all things work together for good to them
that love God, to them that are the called according to His purpose."
And yet when the circumstances of our position are dark, and our load
of trouble is unusually heavy, the suggestion will arise, "Is this
wise? Is this kind? Will this promote my good? Can it be that
circumstances so unpropitious shall be overruled for my benefit?" There
may be those who have never doubted this Truth of God, even when
exposed to the most rigorous tribulation. But I am afraid the most of
us have foolishly asked the question, "Has God forgotten to be
gracious? If it is so, why am I thus? Has He turned to be my enemy,
seeing He deals thus roughly with me?"
Methinks this is one of the wonders of unbelief. After the many
occasions in which God has proved to us His faithfulness, after the
many times in which, with some of us especially, God has overruled our
afflictions for our present and eternal benefit, it is of all unbelief
one of the most marvelous that we should not be able to trust in the
Providence of God. Another strange form of unbelief is mistrust of the
Divine faithfulness. We have the written promise of God that He will
never leave nor forsake those who trust Him. We have His guarantee that
in His service "as our days so shall our strength be." We know beyond
question that we never have temptations capable of making us fall away,
but have the Divine assurance, "My Grace is sufficient for you."
And yet there are times when, if we are put to some little stress of
labor beyond what is usual, or visible means are straitened, our
spirits sink! We become depressed, and the demon of unbelief suggests
that now our defeat is certain, and the enemy will triumph over us.
"Aha," says he, "where is your God now? Will He stand by you now? Will
He enable you to be victorious in this terrible strife?"
Happy is that man who can go about his Master's work as sure that God
is with him as though he heard the wings of angels over his head and
saw the eternal arm working visibly on his behalf. Happy is that man,
but, alas, we are not always thus happy! We doubt because the flesh is
weak, and unbelief enquires, "Will He make a table in the wilderness?
Will He command the rocks to gush with water? If the Lord should open
the windows of Heaven could such a thing be?"
Yet, Brethren, after what we have seen, and after all that our fathers
have seen, after what we have experienced in deliverances, in
protections, in supplies, in upholding and in restorations, the Lord of
Love may well marvel because of our unbelief! When we stoop to mistrust
the faithfulness of God, who cannot lie, and think that the everlasting
God that faints not, neither is weary, of whose understanding there is
no searching–can fail to keep His Word and fulfill His Covenant–this
is unbelief, indeed!
Another very remarkable form of unbelief among God's people is with
regard to the efficacy of prayer. If there is anything under Heaven
that I am as sure of as I am of the demonstrations of mathematics, it
is the fact that God hears prayer. Answers to prayer have come to some
of us, not now and then on rare occasions, so that after a series of
years we have a few facts to collate–but they come to us as ordinary
circumstances of everyday life. God has heard for us prayers about
great things and prayers about little things–prayers about things that
we could reveal to others, and prayers
about secret matters in which none could join us. We have had so many
answers to prayer that the fact is far beyond any further question with
us.
And yet there may be a matter pressing upon our heart for God's glory,
and it may be a subject about which we could plead a precise promise,
such as this–"If two of you are agreed as touching anything concerning
My kingdom, it shall be done unto you," and yet we are half afraid that
our prayer will not be heard–the husband afraid that the conversion of
his wife will never occur! The wife fearful that that swearing husband
of hers will not, after all, yield to the importunate entreaties which
she has addressed to Heaven! A teacher in a Sunday school class still
afraid that his children, though often prayed for, will not be
converted!
We have many prayers, but how little faith is mingled with them! Well,
it is strange, it is passing strange, it is amazing, when we have
already been heard ninety-nine times that we cannot trust God the
hundredth time! And when our whole life is as full of answers to prayer
as it is of hours, it is strange that we should go tremblingly to the
Mercy Seat and scarcely think that God will grant our desire again. No
wonder if Jesus should marvel at the unbelief of many of His people's
prayers! To kneel at the Mercy Seat where the blood of God's own Son is
sprinkled–where Christ Himself stands as the Apostle and High Priest
of our profession–and to fear that when we plead for His sake we yet
may not be heard! It is a miracle of incredulity!
Another singular form of unbelief is this–a doubt as to the power of
the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that this is commonly creeping over
the Christian Church. The Gospel of Jesus Christ will not, according to
some, be found to succeed in this enlightened age, or among enlightened
nations. It may be very effectual among South Sea Islanders with their
dense ignorance. It may perhaps civilize degraded Bushmen in their
kraals. But to refined, intellectual men like the Hindus, the Gospel
avails nothing. Yes, and the fear of this has perhaps been up to now a
great hindrance to the success of the Gospel because our unbelief has
restrained the hand of Christ, the Holy Spirit has been grieved, and
mighty works have been few.
But I will not talk of nations, and of this truth on a broad scale, I
will bring it home to you. My Brethren, have you not sometimes held
your tongue concerning the Gospel of Jesus when you have met with very
wicked persons? "No," you have said, "there is no hope there." Or you
have been called to visit some sick man of profane life, and you have
said, "There is no hope here." Or you have stumbled across some
abandoned woman, and have not thought of preaching Christ to her, for
you have said, "This is a case beyond the reach of the Word."
But it is not so. I will prove it is not so. Has the Gospel saved you,
my Brother? And you, Sister? Then whom can it not save? Ever since the
day when I came as a burdened, desponding sinner to my Master's feet,
and felt my load roll off me at the sight of His dear wounds. Ever
since I saw Him as the Substitute bearing the wrath of God on my
behalf, I have despaired of none–nor would I if they were at the very
gates of Hell. For could we get the Gospel to their ears, and the
Spirit of God to their hearts, they would be saved. May God grant that
we may not doubt the power of the Gospel.
So, too, in hours of great distress we have known true Christians
doubtful of the efficacy of the precious blood of Christ. They would
not confess such unbelief, but it comes to that. They have said, "I
thought I was, indeed, one of His. I went up with the multitude that
kept holy day, and gladsome were my songs, but I have turned aside. I
have backslidden, I have lost the joy of my Lord, and for me there is
no hope." We bid such persons look to the Redeemer anew, and we say,
"There is still power in the Atonement to take away all sin, for 'the
blood of Jesus Christ, God's dear Son, cleanses us from all sin.' "
For awhile, these desponding ones will say, "Alas, I cannot find peace,
I cannot get comfort. My sin is gone over my head as a heavy burden,
and, as David said, my wounds stink and are corrupt, there is no
healing for my sores. I thought I was a child of God, but I am driven
from His Presence, and I shall know no hope." But, Brothers and
Sisters, it is not so. While the Bible remains true, it becomes none of
us ever to think that we can be beyond the reach of mercy. Jesus Christ
came into the world not to save good people, but to save sinners, even
the very chief. He did not come to save the virtuous, but "to seek and
to save that which was lost." "The whole have no need of a physician,
but they that are sick." Our sickness and our poverty, our ruin and our
destruction are proper pleas with the Christ of God. There shall never
come a day when His precious blood shall lose its power–
"Till all the ransomed Church of God Are sa ved to sin no more,"
there shall still be efficacy in the fountain for cleansing, still be
power in Jesus to blot out iniquity.
I might go on and mention some other forms of this unbelief, but I will
not–we will rather consider why they are so amazing. First, it is very
amazing in saints of God to be disbelieving because of their
relationship to the Father and to the Lord Jesus. To doubt a stranger
is not at all an extraordinary thing, but for a child to doubt its
father–for a brother to doubt a tender, truthful, loving brother. For
a bride to doubt the bridegroom who has made her blessed– these things
are strange. And for me, for you, for any blood-washed soul to doubt
your Father God, to mistrust your elder Brother Jesus, to have
suspicions of the Bridegroom of your hearts, even Jesus, the
Well-Beloved of Heaven and earth–well may we marvel, and mingle
sadness with the marvel! And well may you marvel, and mingle bitter
penitence with your wonder.
Why do I mistrust my Lord? He has never lied unto me. Blessed be His
name, He can forgive even this sin. But it must wound Him sorely. It
must be another crucifixion to Him, that those who are saved by Him
should yet doubt Him. Forgive us, Jesus, and help us against this sin
in the future.
Our unbelief is a marvel, again, because the rightness of trust in God
and in His Son Jesus Christ are backed up by such wonderful historical
facts. None have ever trusted in Him and been confounded. The Jews of
old could look back to a very memorable history, full of great wonders
of faith. And so when they doubted God, they doubted Him against all
the facts that stood in evidence. When the Lord brought them up out of
the Red Sea, and made the waters stand upright as a heap. When He led
their enemies down into the heart of the sea, where they were utterly
destroyed by the embracing waters. When Israel sang a new song unto the
Lord, and triumphed gloriously, was not it an amazing thing that within
a few days they should ask, "Can He give us bread to eat?"
And when after that they saw the manna lying around their tents, and
drank of the rock that followed them, and marked the cloudy pillar that
shaded them by day, and the fiery pillar that cheered and enlightened
them by night–was it not strange that they should doubt whether He
could bring them into Canaan, and drive out the giants with their
chariots of iron? Israel's doubts were very strange, but so are ours.
For we doubt not only in the teeth of all Bible history, but in
defiance of the history of the saints ever since Apostolic times–the
history of our own sires, and of ourselves.
Did the Lord fail his saints at Smithfield, when they sang as they
burned? Was He not the helper of those who, but yesterday, in
Madagascar, went forth to die for Jesus, with hymns of triumph on their
tongues? Did not the Lord help the covenanting fathers of His saints in
Scotland? And was He not the guardian of our persecuted sires in this
priest-ridden land? Let us then yield to multiplied evidences the
credence they deserve, and let us trust a faithful God as He should be
trusted.
But we have, in addition to the history of the past, the personal
experience of the present. I used to marvel at William Huntingdon's,
"Bank of Faith"–a strange enough book, by the way–but I am sure I
could, from my own history, write a far more remarkable, "Bank of
Faith," than William Huntingdon has penned. And I question whether the
life of any Christian here, with its little details of deliverance, of
assistance, of answers to prayer, would not be very remarkable if it
could be written. At any rate, you and I have had most singular proofs
in our experience of the truth, goodness, faithfulness, and power of
God and of His Christ.
We do not speak merely what we believe, but what we know, and testify
what we have seen. I have often said that if anyone wants to dispute
with me about the evidences of Christianity, the mere outworks, I might
perhaps yield the day. Perhaps I might not be inclined to accept the
gauge of battle–for I care comparatively little about the outworks.
But if any man will attack the real inwards of Christianity (which few
ever do, because they do not know much about them), then the feeblest
man among us will hold the wall against all comers.
We have certain experiences–communion with the Christ of God,
communion with our Father, manifestations of His face to us which we
shall not publish in the street, nor cast before swine–but which,
nevertheless, we would dare bring forward as witnesses, powerful to
ourselves, at any rate, and to others who can understand them. Strange
enough, however, is the fact that after all our inward evidence and
indisputable personal proof, we do, nevertheless, doubt in dark times,
and scandalously mistrust. After what our Lord has done for us, He may
well marvel at our wicked, unreasonable unbelief.
And there is another reason for wonder which I shall mention, namely
this, that our unbelief is singular when we consider our own beliefs.
You do not doubt the inspiration of Scripture, you Christian people,
yet you doubt the Truth
of something in Scripture. You do not doubt the Deity of Christ, yet
you doubt whether Christ will be true to you. You do not doubt that His
Gospel comes from Heaven, yet sometimes you doubt whether it will exert
a conquering power among the sons of men. You do not doubt the promise,
nor doubt the Lord, so you say, and yet you doubt whether that promise
will be fulfilled to you.
Too often your faith is a theory, and your unbelief a fact. O that our
faith might be a fact, and a practical fact, too, commonly carried out
in all the transactions of life! At home and abroad, in joy and in
sorrow, may we still be unstag-gering Believers holding fast by the
Truth of God, by the certainty of His promise, the infallibility of His
purpose, the glory of His Gospel, the Deity of His Son and the triumph
of His Word. I close this address to you who are His people by
remarking that as you see what forms unbelief takes, it will be well to
confess your sin with sorrow. And as you have seen how marvelous it is,
it will be right to be ashamed that you should sin so strangely.
Before I have done, notice that your sin is so amazing that it makes
Jesus Christ, Himself, marvel. He is used to wonders–He is Himself the
Wonderful, the great Wonderworker, and yet He marvels because of our
unbelief! We often wonder at the unbelief of the Jews, that they should
have seen so much of God in the wilderness, and yet should doubt Him.
As in a glass behold yourselves. I have sometimes wondered at the
unbelief of others–I have put my soul in their place, and have said,
"I never could be disbelieving if I had such an experience as theirs."
Ah, why could I judge others while myself guilty? No doubt these
doubters think much the same of us, and think us inexcusable when we
are desponding. There are times when we wonder at our own unbelief!
When God has brought us safely through a trial, we have said, "I cannot
think how I could mistrust Him." And in the surprising joy of some
remarkable mercies, we have looked back with blushes and with tears,
and said, "Have mercy upon me, O my God, for my unbelief, for I can
never doubt You again." Yes, it is very amazing, it is very strange
that we should be so basely incredulous. May God lift us out of this
unbelief, and make us to hold fast His Word, and trust in Him without
ceasing.
II. I shall now want your earnest attention, You WHO ARE NOT YET
CONVERTED, while I try affectionately to
speak with you concerning your unbelief.
Among the hearers who continually frequent this place there are a great
number who were never infidel in the common sense of the term. And
though they would be very grieved even to approach to that state–they
are nevertheless infidel in another sense–they are unbelieving as to
any saving trust in the Person and work of Jesus Christ. Now I desire
to speak to your hearts this morning. Your unbelief is very marvelous,
and in each form that it takes it is so!
Perhaps you fear that your sin is too great for mercy. You profess to
believe God's Word? "Yes." And yet you dare talk in that way, when it
is written, "All manner of sin and of blasphemy shall be forgiven unto
men." "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin."
"Ah, no!" you say, "that is not the form of my unbelief–I am not in a
fit state for the reception of Divine Grace." And you believe God's
Word, do you? You believe the Gospel which I have preached to you so
often, and yet dare say that?
Do you not know that your very unfitness is your fitness? "The whole
have no need of a physician, but they that are sick." "I have not come
to call the righteous but sinners to repentance." You know very well
that salvation is all of Grace, that from first to last it is all of
pure mercy and yet you talk about being unfit to come! I think I have
heard you sing, some of you–
"If we tarry till we're better, We shall never come at all."
You know that, and that your present state is the very best state in
which you could come, and yet you dare disbelieve in such a way! Shame
on you! Shame on you!
But perhaps you say, "No, my doubts are of another kind. I am afraid
mine is an excluded case." And yet after reading the Word of God you
cannot find a single text to prove that. And you are told that there
are no occult texts that do it, for God has not spoken in secret in a
dark place of the earth, saying to the seed of Jacob, Seek you My face
in vain. You know the promises. For instance, you know this–"Whosoever
will, let him take of the Water of Life freely." "Ho, everyone that
thirsts, come you to the waters." You are not ignorant of that text,
"Him that comes to Me I will in no wise cast out."
You know how broad and unlimited those promises are made, and yet you
dare to talk of your being excluded! Did you not sing the other Sunday,
when I gave out the verse–
"None are excluded therefore but those Who do themselves exclude.
Welcome the learned and polite, The ignorant and rude. While Grace does
not forget the prince, The poor may take their share, No mortal has a
just pretense To perish in despair."
I will say that over again–
"No mortal has a just pretense To perish in despair."
The reason for despair is a mere pretense, and an unjust one. The
Gospel of Jesus Christ has with a sound of trumpet declared that if you
have no goodness Christ Jesus will give you the goodness! That if you
have no fitness you need no fitness! That you may come just as you are
and rely upon the unsurpassed and unbounded mercy of the God that made
the heavens and the earth–who has Himself set forth Jesus Christ to be
a Propitiation for sin–in Whom, if you put your trust, you shall find
instant pardon and eternal salvation, a change of heart and a renewed
life!
Such unbelief as these–I will not mention more, because they are all
alike, a pack of rubbish to be thrown out at once–are all marvelous!
It is amazing that they should be indulged in by people who hear the
Gospel. In your case, my dear Hearers, they are more than ordinarily
marvelous for this reason–because you already admit so much. If you
did not believe in the Bible I could not talk so to you. If you did not
believe Christ to be the Son of God I should not so much marvel at your
unbelief.
If you rejected all the testimony about the precious blood of the
Mediator, I could understand your being unbelieving. But there are some
of you who know that Christ is God. You know He is able to save from
sin. You know He is able to save YOU, and yet you are unsaved. And I
marvel at your unbelief because you confess that it leaves you in a
state of ruin and will land you in a state of everlasting confusion!
You know you are filthy, and that the fountain is open–why, then, do
you not wash? You know Christ will save you if you trust Him. You know
He is worthy of your trust. O Sirs, why do you not trust Him? In the
name of everything that is reasonable, why not trust Him? God grant you
may.
Your unbelief is the more amazing because the cause from which it
arises is so inexcusable. With some of you your unbelief is the effect
of inconsiderateness. You do not think about it. You believe, but
believe superficially. You do not weigh and judge. Oh, is it so? Will
you ruin your own souls for want of thought? You look, as I gaze upon
you, to be men and women of intelligence. And can you, with
intelligence and education, trifle with your souls? Eternity, eternity,
eternity! You know its meaning, and yet can you trifle with it?
You are immortal, no flame shall ever devour your soul. You shall
outlast the sun, and when the moon has waned for the last time, you
still shall live. And will you dare to tempt God's anger so as to live
forever beneath His frown? When a simple trust in Jesus will secure for
you a happy immortality–shall you through carelessness suffer your
soul to drift down the stream to the dark ocean of despair?
With some of you it is little more than mere whim which your depraved
heart pleads as a reason for keeping from Christ. Either it is the
pride which will not let you take salvation gratis, or some prejudice
against the preacher, or against a doctrine of the Word, or a wish for
you scarcely know what–maybe of some sign or wonder. Alas, men are
fools when they are wicked! Wickedness and folly are but synonymous
terms. And for you who profess to believe so much to decline
practically to carry it out is a folly which even the lunatics of
Bedlam could not rival. O that you were wise and would consider this!
I marvel at the unbelief of some of you because it causes you so much
grief. It is many months since you had a day of real happiness, some of
you. Your conscience is so much awakened that you cannot be quiet, and
yet there is rest, rest to be had, and you have it not. There is the
cup before you, and you are thirsty, yet you refuse to drink! There is
the bread, and you are hungry, but you will not eat! I marvel at your
unbelief, and the more because you have seen others saved. Since you
were first impressed your daughter has found peace, your son is
rejoicing in Christ, the friend who sits next to you in the pew has
been long ago with his feet on the Rock, and a new song in his
mouth–and he has told you it is all through his trusting Jesus–and
yet you will not trust, too.
O may God teach you to be reasonable, and cure you of this folly! May
His Holy Spirit work wisdom of faith in you. It is marvelous that all
this while you would be ashamed to avow that you doubt anything that
God has said. You make God a liar, but would dread to say so. You would
not be called an infidel, and yet what better is an unbeliever? For if
a man believes and does not act on what he believes, is he not, if his
soul is ruined, even more without excuse than he who had some mental
difficulty to plead as a ground of unbelief?
My dear Friends, some of you who have been sitting here for years and
yet do not believe–you are marvels to me! Count you that little? You
are marvels to many in your family who long since expected to see you
on the Lord's side. You are a wonder to devils–even they cannot make
it out–the power of their spells has amazed even them! You are a
wonder to the damned in Hell–with what welcome alacrity would they
avail themselves of an opportunity to escape from misery, and yet you
trifle with such opportunities!
You are a marvel to the angels who would have rejoiced over you if you
had returned to your Father, and who wonder that you stand at the
Cross's foot from Sunday to Sunday and yet doubt the power of Him who
bled on it! You are marvels to the Lord Himself. One of these days,
unless you repent, you will be a wonder to yourselves, for this text
will come true to you if God prevents it not. "Behold, you despisers,
and wonder, and perish." But I hope better things of you, even things
which accompany salvation, though I thus speak.
Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved. Before the
Redeemer was taken up and ascended to His Throne, He left this message
to us, His disciples, "Go you into all the world and preach the Gospel
to every creature. He that believes and is baptized shall be saved. But
he that believes not shall be damned." Believe and be baptized, and God
grant you His salvation for Jesus' sake. Amen.
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A Blessed Wonder