DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, JUNE 19, 1870,
BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Bodily exercise profits little: but godliness is profitable unto all
things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to
come. This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation." 1
Timothy 4:8,9.
YOUR attention will be the more readily given to this passage, because
Paul declares it to be a "faithful"–a most true and certain
saying–and "worthy of all acceptation," that is to say, worthy to be
received and practiced by us all. Paul has four of these faithful
sayings. The first, occurs in 1 Timothy 1:15, "This is a faithful
saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the
world to save sinners." The second is our text. The third is in 2
Timothy 2:12, "It is a faithful saying, if we suffer, we shall also
reign with Him." And the fourth is in Titus 3:8, "This is a faithful
saying, that they which have believed in God might be careful to
maintain good works."
We may trace a connection between these faithful sayings. The first one
lays the foundation of our eternal salvation in the free Grace of God,
as shown to us in the mission of the great Redeemer. The next affirms
the double blessedness which we obtain through this salvation–the
blessings of the upper and nether springs of time and of eternity. The
third shows one of the duties to which the chosen people are called–we
are ordained to suffer for Christ with the promise that "if we suffer,
we shall also reign with Him." The last sets forth the active form of
Christian service, bidding us diligently to maintain good works. Thus
we have the root of salvation in free Grace.
Next, we have the privileges of that salvation in the life which now
is, and in that which is to come. And we have also the two great
branches of suffering with Christ and serving with Christ, loaded with
the fruits of the Spirit. Let us treasure up these faithful sayings.
Let them be the guides of our life, our comfort, and our instruction.
The Apostle of the Gentiles proved them to be faithful. They are
faithful still, not one word shall fall to the ground. They are worthy
of all acceptation, let us accept them now and prove their
faithfulness. Let these four faithful sayings be written on the four
corners of your house.
Today we consider the second of the four, and we will read the text
again, "Bodily exercise profits little: but godliness is profitable
unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that
which is to come." In the days when Paul wrote this Epistle, the Greeks
and others paid great attention to physical culture, the development of
the muscles, the proportion of the limbs, the production of everything
in the body which might conduce to the soundness of manhood. The
philosophy of Greece all looked that way, and therefore at the various
gymnasia bodily exercises of an athletic and even violent kind were
undergone by men with the view of developing the body, and so assisting
the soul.
It may be that Timothy, being yet a young man, fancied that there was
something in this philosophy. And something, indeed, there is. In the
original the Apostle Paul admits that it is so, for the passage might
be read thus–"Bodily exercise verily profits a little," or thus,
"Bodily exercise profits for a short time." Physical training is of
some service– attention to it is not sinful nor to be condemned. It is
of some use and has its proper place, but still it has no very eminent
position in the Christian system. It occupies a place far in the
background in the teaching of Christ and His Apostles. It is but a
minor part of a complete education. It profits a little, a little, for
a little time.
But godliness, the worship of God, the fear of God, has a long and
wealthy entail of blessing, having the promise both of the life that
now is and of that which is to come. Its profiting is not little but
great. Its benefit is not confined to the body, but is shared by the
body and the soul. It is not limited by this mortal life, but overleaps
the grave and brings its largest revenue of profit in the world where
graves are all unknown.
This morning I am about to try and speak upon the profit of godliness
to a man in this life. We will consider its having the promise of the
life to come, in the evening, if God spares us.
With regard to this life, let it be remarked that the religion of our
Lord Jesus Christ neither undervalues nor overvalues this present life.
It does not sneer at this life as though it were nothing. On the
contrary, it ennobles it, and shows the relation which it has to the
higher and eternal life. It does not overvalue it by making this life,
and the secular pursuits of it, the main object of any man. It puts it
into an honorable but yet a secondary place, and says to the sons of
men, "Seek you first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And all
these things shall be added unto you."
It is not, however, very easy to keep to the middle point of exact
truth as to a due estimate of this present life–he who does so is
taught of God. There are many who undervalue this life–let me mention
some of them to you. Those undervalue it who sacrifice it to indulge
their passions, or to gratify their appetites. Too many, for the sake
of momentary gratifications, have shortened their lives and rendered
their latter end bitterly painful to themselves. They conceived that
the pleasures of the flesh were better than life. They were mistaken in
their estimate. They made but a poor exchange when they chose lust and
death, rather than purity and life.
The drunkard has been known to take his cups, though he knew that in so
doing he was virtually poisoning himself. The man of hot passions has
been seen to plunge into uncleanness, though the consequences of his
folly have been plainly set before him. Men who for a morsel of meat,
or a flash of merriment, are selling this world as well as the world to
come, are fools, indeed. He that would have pleasure must not pursue it
too furiously. Temperance is the rule here– moderation and the use,
not excess and the abuse–will secure to us the pleasure even of this
mortal life. Value not, I pray you, the transient joys which the animal
appetites can bring to you. At least value them not so much as to
shorten life for their sakes.
Some evidently undervalue their lives because they make them wretched
through envy. Others are richer than they are, and they think it a
miserable thing to be alive at all while others possess more of this
world's goods than they. They walk, they say, and toil while yonder
person, who has no more deserts than they, is riding in his chariot.
So, indeed, they count the chariot the main thing and not the life, and
they will not enjoy their life because they cannot have a certain
coveted addition which another possesses.
Haman is not grateful for all the mercies of life while unbending
Mordecai sits in the king's gate. He counts his honey to be bitterness
because he cannot lord it at his will. God gets no thanks at all from
the man for the innumerable mercies which he has. These are nothing. He
pines for some particular supposed mercy which he has not. He considers
that the fact of his being alive, and being favored of God in many
respects, is nothing at all to be considered, because he has not all
that big avarice might wish for. O poison not life by the envy of
others, for if you do so, you miserably undervalue it!
The slaves of avarice undervalue their lives, for they do not care to
make life happy, but pinch themselves in order to accumulate wealth.
The miser who starves himself in order that he may fill his bags may
well be reasoned with in this way–"Is not the life more than the meat,
and the body than raiment? Skin for skin, yes, all that other men have
will they give for their lives. But you give your life for this wealth,
this glittering dust. You are willing to forego all the enjoyments that
this life might afford you, that you may have a heap to leave to your
uncertain heirs, who will probably squander it, and certainly forget
the hands that scraped the hoard together."
Why should I throw away myself for the sake of dying rich? Is it true
success in life to have enjoyed nothing, to have poisoned all my
existence merely that the world might be informed in a corner of the
Illustrated News that I died worth so many thousands of pounds? This is
to undervalue life, indeed.
So, also, do they undervalue it who in foolhardiness are ready to throw
it away on the slightest pretext. He that for his country's sake, or
for the love of his fellow creature, risks life and loses it, truly
deserves to be called a hero. But he, who, to provoke laughter and to
win the applause of fools, will venture limb and life without need is
but a fool himself, and deserves no praise whatever. He undervalues
life who will display an art which endangers it, or who will run the
risk of it for anything whatever short of the laudable motive of
preserving liberty to his country, or life to his fellow men.
Holy Scripture never teaches us to undervalue our own lives. He that
said, "You shall not kill," meant that we were not to kill ourselves
any more than others. We ought to seek by all we can do in the
surroundings of our habitations, by our cleanliness, by carefully
observing sanitary laws, by never encouraging dangerous exhibitions,
and by every other means to show our care of the life that now is, for
it is a precious thing.
Yet, my Brethren, there can be such a thing as overvaluing this life,
and multitudes have fallen into that error. Those overvalue it who
prefer it to eternal life. Why, it is but as a drop compared with the
ocean, if you measure time with eternity. Seventy or eighty years of
dwelling here below–what are they when compared with infinite ages of
existence in the Presence of the Most High? I reckon that this present
life is not worthy to be compared with the Glory that shall be revealed
in us.
When men in fearful moments have denied the faith for the sake of
saving their lives, they have overvalued this life. When to preserve
themselves from the sword, or the fire, or the tortures of the rack,
they have denied the name of Jesus, they have made a mistake and
exchanged gold for dross. Alas, how many of us, in like condition,
might have fallen into the same error? They overvalue this life who
consider it to be a better thing than Divine love, for the love of God
is better than life–His loving kindness is better than life itself.
Some would give anything for their lives, but they would give nothing
for God's love. If their lives were in danger, they would hasten to the
physician, but though they enjoy not the love of God they yet sit at
ease, and seek not the priceless benefit. They who feel aright think it
a cheap thing to die, but an awful thing to live apart from God. They
recognize that life would be but death unless God were with us, and
that death itself is but the vestibule of life while God is our joy and
our strength! Let us never set the present life before Divine love, and
never let it be compared even for a moment with the pursuit of God's
Glory.
Every Christian man is to feel that he is to take care of his life in
comparison with any earthly glory. But if it comes to a choice between
God's Glory and his life, he is to have no timorous hesitation in the
matter, but at once sacrifice his life freely at his Lord's altar. This
has been ever the spirit of true Christians. They have never been
anxious to die, nor have they been fearful concerning the loss of life.
They have not thrown away their lives–they have known their value too
well–but they have not withheld their lives for Christ's sake. They
have esteemed Him to be better than life itself. So you see the
Scripture teaches us that there is a proper middle course in estimating
this present life, and if we follow its instructions, we shall neither
undervalue nor overvalue it.
It appears from the text, that godliness influences this present life,
puts it in its true position, and becomes profitable to it.
I. First, let me observe that GODLINESS CHANGES THE TENURE OF THE LIFE
THAT NOW IS. It has "the promise of the life that now is." I want you
to mark the words–"it has the promise of the life that now is." An
ungodly man lives, but how? He lives in a very different respect from a
godly man. Sit down in the cell of Newgate with a man condemned to die.
That man lives, but he is reckoned dead in Law. He has been condemned.
If he is now enjoying a reprieve, yet he holds his life at another's
pleasure, and soon he must surrender it to the demands ofjustice. I,
sitting by the side of him, breathing the same air, and enjoying what
in many respects is only the same life, yet live in a totally different
sense. I have not forfeited my life to the Law. I enjoy it as far as
the Law is concerned, as my own proper right–the Law protects my life,
though it will destroy his. The ungodly man is condemned already,
condemned to die, for the wages of sin is death. And his whole life
here is nothing but a reprieve granted by the longsuffering of God.
But a Christian man is pardoned and absolved. He owes not his life now
to penal justice. When death comes to him it will not be at all in the
sense of an infliction of a punishment. It will not be death, it will
be the transfer of his spirit to a better state, the slumbering of his
body for a little while in its proper couch to be awakened in a nobler
likeness by the trump of the archangel. Now, is not life itself changed
when held on so different a tenure? To live because I am now protected
by the Law–is not that better than to be living at the sufferance of
the Law?
To live the life of an absolved man, of a free man, the life of God's
own child even in this present life–is not that a different thing from
living the life of one to whom each hour measures out a nearer approach
to the capital sentence, and to the execution of well-deserved
punishment? The first is a life of pleasure–the second, disguise it as
you may, is death in life, a life overshadowed with the darkness of
eternal wrath.
"Godliness has the promise of the life that now is." That word changes
the tenure of our present life in this respect, that it removes in a
sense the uncertainty of it. God has given to none of you unconverted
ones any promise of the life that now is. You are like squatters on a
common who pitch their tents, and by the sufferance of the lord of the
manor may remain there for awhile. But at a moment's notice you must up
tents and away.
But the Christian has the promise of the life that now is. That is to
say, he has the freehold of it. It is life given to him of God, and he
really enjoys it. He has an absolute certainty about it. In fact, the
life that now is has become to the Christian a foretaste of the life to
come. Do you say that it is uncertain to the Christian whether he shall
die or live? I grant you in one sense his remaining here is uncertain.
Yet this is certain to him–he shall never die until it is best for him
to die. He shall never depart this life till he is ripe for the life to
come–he shall never, in fact, be removed from his present tabernacle
till he himself, if he knew all, would be perfectly willing to be
removed.
Willing! Yes, far more! Overjoyed that his tabernacle should be
dissolved that he might enter into his "House not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens." The tenure is very different between the
uncertainty of the ungodly who has no rights and no legal titles, and
the blessed certainty of the child of God who lives by promise.
Let me add that this word seems to me to sweeten the whole of human
life to the man that has it. Godliness has the promise of life that now
is–that is to say, everything that comes to a godly man comes to him
by promise. Whereas if the ungodly man has any blessing apparent, it
does not come by promise, it comes overshadowed by a terrible guilt
which curses his very blessings and makes the responsibilities of his
wealth and of his health and position redound to his own destruction.
It works as a savor of death unto death through his willful
disobedience.
Everything that comes to the Christian comes by promise. He sees his
daily bread, and he says, "It has my Father's mark on it. He said my
bread should be given me. Here comes the water from the crystal stream,
it is flavored with the love of God. He said my water shall be sure."
He puts on his raiment, and it may not be so comely as the dress of
others, but be says, "This is the livery my Father promised me." He
sleeps, and it is beneath the canopy of Divine protection. He wakes and
he walks abroad with angels, according to the promise, bearing him up
in their hands.
Afflictions come to him by promise, the broad arrow of the great King
is set on each one of them, for was it not said of old, "In the world
you shall have tribulation, but in Me you shall have peace"? He can see
everywhere the trace of Divine faithfulness in the keeping of the
Covenant promise. He lives not the life of Ishmael, who by-and-by may
be banished to the wilderness with the bondwoman, his mother. No, he
lives the life of Isaac, the child of the promise, who is before long
to inherit all things, and who even now is the darling child of his
father, and rejoices in his father's love.
There is a vast difference between having the life that now is, and
having the promise of the life that now is–having God's promise about
it to make it all gracious, to make it all certain, and to make it all
blessed as a token of love from
God.
II. It is time that we pass on to THE BENEFIT WHICH GODLINESS BESTOWS
IN THIS LIFE. Perhaps the fullness of the text is the fact that the
flower of life, the crown of life, the highest blessedness and bliss of
life, is secured to us by godliness. I have no doubt you have often
heard interpretations of this text, very excellent–and it is not for
me to judge or censure them–which lead to the belief that the way to
make the best of both worlds is to be a Christian.
I also subscribe to that, but I must demur to the way in which it is
generally put. There is an excellent sermon by that notable Divine,
Saurin, in which he urges this text as a proof that the best hope of
success in the world is enjoyed by the Christian. I demur to that being
the teaching of this text. There may be some truth in it, but I do not
think it is much to be insisted on. It has been said that he who fears
God has the best guarantee of health. It is true, there is nothing in
godliness to destroy the health of the body. The true Christian is
preserved from many of those passions, and excitements, and
indulgences, which tend to produce disease and to bring on early death.
That much is true, but I do not believe that godliness inevitably
ensures good health. I believe, rather, that some godly men absolutely
require for the highest perfection of their godliness, that they should
be visited with sickness. It seems to me to be a very strange theory,
to teach that godliness guarantees health, for it would lead to the
supposition that all people who are unhealthy must necessarily be or
have been deficient in godliness. And this is all the more untenable
when we observe that some of the best people we have ever met have been
those who have for years been bedridden by affliction which they
certainly never brought upon themselves by any kind of sin.
I would say to every young man, there is nothing in the pursuit of
godliness that can injure your health, but I would not say to him, "If
you are godly you have the promise of being a healthy man," for I do
not believe it, since unhealthi-ness may come from a thousand other
sources besides impropriety of conduct. I will go farther, and affirm
that godliness, when carried to its highest and most honorable degree
of excellence, might sometimes render it necessary for a man to
place himself where he would of necessity become unhealthy. I know that
it was the highest godliness which made our missionaries fix their
abodes among the fever marshes of Fernando Po and Old Calabar to preach
the Gospel.
When I heard from one of our missionaries, as I did personally, that he
had at last become so acclimatized that he did not have the fever
oftener than about two days out of three, I could not think that
godliness in his case necessarily involved health. But I gathered that
it might so happen that an eminently godly man might feel it necessary
to go where he might say, "Farewell, Health, you are not, after all,
the promise of the life that now is. I can bear to suffer, I can bear
to creep about this world sick and ready to die if I may but have what
is better than health–the luxury of winning souls for Christ–the
honor and joy of instructing the ignorant in the faith of the crucified
Redeemer."
It were wicked to think that a man has less of godliness who sacrifices
his health for Christ's sake. He certainly would not be the man to miss
the promise, and yet if health were such a promise he would evidently
have missed it.
Again, we have heard it argued that the godly man has the best prospect
of wealth in this world. Now I will also grant that as godliness
delivers us from a multitude of expenses into which riot and
dissipation would lead us, and as godliness creates habits of sobriety
and economy, as godliness begets honesty, and honesty is even in a
worldly sense the best policy, there are some reasons why Christian
traders should grow rich, and godly men have much in their favor.
But I also cannot help recognizing that while trade is as it is, there
are many things which a Christian man cannot do, and dare not do, which
some have done, and are to this day rich for having done them–dirty
acts, mean, low, and groveling–which have brought wealth to the
creatures who have practiced them. And yet more–I have known the best
of Christians, and men, too, whose outward conduct has been fully
conformable to their profession–who have lived and died poor. Now, if
wealth is the promise of the life that now is, I venture to say that
godliness does not infallibly or even generally secure it. The
God-fearing man may have as fair an opportunity as any other in the
race of life, but all things considered, this is all we can say. It may
be that the godly man may be a poor man, and from a dozen circumstances
not connected with his religion or his morals, may live and may die
poor in this world, but rich in faith.
It has also been said that godliness has the promise of the life that
now is, in the sense that a Christian man is the most likely to have a
good name, fame, and reputation among his fellow men. That also is true
in a measure. In well-regulated society, the believer in Christ,
through the holiness of his character, will be had in esteem, and even
among the worst of men the excellence of his conduct will command a
measure of respect. But for all that, I do not believe that repute
among men is the promise of the life that now is–for what is it after
all? Good repute among men, if it is deserved, I shall not decry. But
if by any chance slander should come and take away the good man's
name–and it has often done so–shall I say pity the calumniated saint
as one who has lost the promise of the life that now is?
I dare not think it! Far rather would I bid him rejoice in that day,
and leap for joy, for so persecuted they the Prophets that were before
him. And who is the most likely person to be slandered? Is it not the
man who is most consistent with his profession, and most zealous in the
spread of the faith? The Apostle Paul certainly never accounted riches
to be the promise of the life that now is, for he had nothing. He had
learned to be poor, and to labor with his hands. He certainly never
reckoned health to be the promise of the life that now is, for he was
in such circumstances of peril by land and sea, and among false
brethren, that his life was in jeopardy for the Gospel. And as to a
good name, he never regarded that as the promise of the life that now
is, for he was willingly accounted as the offscouring of all
things–some thought him mad, others thought him base, his repute with
the multitude was gone.
I will repeat what I have said, lest I be misunderstood. Under ordinary
circumstances it is true that godliness wears a propitious face both
towards health, and wealth, and name–and he who has respect to these
things, shall not find himself, as a rule, injured in the pursuit of
them by his godliness. But still I disdain altogether the idea that all
these three things together are, or even make up a part of the promise
of the life that now is. I believe some persons have the life that now
is in its fullness, and the promise of it in its richest fulfillment,
who have neither wealth, health, nor fame. Being blessed with the
suffering Master's smile and Presence, they are happier far than those
who roll in wealth, who luxuriate in fame, and have all the rich
blessings which health includes.
Let me now show you what I think is the promise of the life that now
is. I believe it to be an inward happiness, which is altogether
independent of outward circumstances. It is something richer than
wealth, fairer than health, and more substantial than fame. This secret
of the Lord, this deep delight, this calm repose, godliness always
brings in proportion as it reigns in the heart.
Let us try and show that this is so. A godly man, my Brethren, is one
who is at one with his Maker. It must always be right with the creature
when it is at one with the Creator. The Creator is Omnipotent,
All-Just, All-Holy. When the creature is out of gear with the Creator
it will always be dashing itself against the pricks, and wounding
itself. As the Creator will not change, if the creature runs not
parallel to the Divine will, the creature must suffer, must be unhappy,
must be restless. But when godliness puts our will into conformity with
the Divine will, the more fully it does so, the more certainly it
secures to us happiness even in the life that now is.
I am not happy necessarily because I am in good health, but I am happy
if I am content to be out of health when God wills it. I am not happy
because I am wealthy, but I am happy if it pleases me to be poor
because it pleases God I should be. I am not happy because I happen to
be famous, but I am happy if, being all unknown, I count it my highest
fame to be accepted in the Beloved. A heart reconciled to the Divine
will has full possession of the promise of the life that now is, for
such peace with God is perfect happiness where it perfectly
exists–conformity to God's will is Heaven below. I pray that godliness
may work in all of you a conformity to the Divine will, and then I am
sure, whatever your outward lot may be, you will win the promise of the
life that now is.
The Christian man starting in life as such is best fitted for this
life. He is like a vessel fittingly stored for all the storms and
contrary currents that may await it. The Christian is like a soldier
who must gladly go to battle, but he is protected by the best armor
that can be procured. He wears the helmet and the breastplate. He wears
the entire Divine panoply which heavenly wisdom has prepared to protect
him from every dart of his adversaries. He has the promise of the life
that already is, just as the man with a good sword and good armor has
the best promise of success in battle.
O that God may grant us Grace to know and feel that the best
instruments and weapons of the warfare of this life are to be found in
the arsenals of holiness, in the armories of confidence in God! In this
sense we have again the promise of the life that now is. With a
Christian all things that happen to him work for good. Is not this a
rich part of the promise of the life that now is? What if the waves
roar against him–they speed his boat towards the haven! What if the
thunders and lightning come forth? They clear the atmosphere and
promote his soul's health.
He gains by his losses, he grows healthy by his sicknesses, he lives by
dying, he is enriched by being despoiled of his goods. Do you ask for
any better promise than this? Is it not better that all things should
work for my good, than that all things should be as I would wish to
have them? They might all work my pleasure, and yet might all work my
ruin. But now if they do not always please me–yet if they always
benefit me–is not this the best promise of the life that now is?
The Christian enjoys his God under all circumstances. That, again, is
the promise of the life that now is. I spoke of his being reconciled to
God–he is much more than that–he delights himself in his God. He
finds God in Nature. The landscape glows for him with a more Divine
color than any other eye can see. As for the heavens, with their starry
glories, there is a light in them which has not yet been beheld by the
natural man. He sees God in his solitude, and peoples his loneliness
with the spirits that are akin with the Most High. He is, wherever he
may be, never debarred from the society he loves best. A wish will find
his God, a tear will bring him his best Beloved.
He has but to sigh and cry when on the bed of sickness, and God comes
and makes his bed for him. Blessed man, he has, indeed, the promise of
the life that now is, for in it all, and over it all, he sees the
Divine love shining for him with a supernal splendor and making earth
but the porch of Heaven. This is to have the life that now is in the
fullness of the promise. I am sure you will agree with me that the
genuine possessor of godliness has the promise of the life that now is
in his freedom from many of those cares and fears which rob life of all
its luster.
The man without godliness is weighted with the care of every day, and
of all the days that are to come–the dread remembrance of the past,
and the terror of the future as well. The godly man knows that all the
past is forgiven, his transgressions are blotted out. As for the
present, he casts that burden on the Lord. As for the future, he would
not pry into it with anxious eye, but he leaves God to rule and govern
as He wills. He sits down, calmly content that his Father's will is
right and good towards him. And as he is thus free from care, so is he
free from the fear of men.
Ungodly men, many of them, are servile to their fellow men. It is to
them a most important question whether they are smiled upon or frowned
at by their fellow worms. The godly man has learned to lift his head
above the common race of mankind, and when he lives as he should, he
neither thinks a thing the better because men praise it, nor the worse
because they censure it. His rule is not popular opinion, nor the
dictates of the philosophy of the hour. He believes what
God tells him to be true, and what God prescribes he knows to be right.
And he does this careless of man's judgment, for none can judge him but
his Master.
That man has the promise of the life that now is who is in full
enjoyment of the sweets of a clear conscience. He can afford to snap
his fingers in the face of all mankind and declare that if the heavens
themselves should fall, he would do the right, and dare all things for
God. Oh, to have the yoke of human judgment from off your neck, and the
bondage of man's domineering opinion from off your spirit! This is to
receive the promise of the life that now is.
Moreover, the fear of death has gone from the Christian. This with many
deprives the life that now is of everything that is happy and
consoling. They are afraid in their merriest moments that the skeleton
will disturb the feast. And when the dance is merriest, they think they
hear the sound of the trumpet that will silence all. But the Christian
is not afraid. To him the prospect of departure is rather joyous than
grievous, and the breaking up of this mortal state is an event he looks
for as the clearing away of multitudes of sorrows and the bringing in
of mighty joys.
Brothers and Sisters, to be free from the fear of death is to make life
truly life–and he has it who leans wholly upon Christ–and knows that
Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life. Put these things
together-peacefulness with his fellow men, peace with God, a sense that
all things are working for his good, fearlessness of man's judgment,
communion with the Most High–and surely you have described in a few
words the very flower of life–the thing that makes it worth while to
live.
This does not lie, as I have said before, in accumulated treasure. It
does not blush in the rosy cheek. It does not dwell in the trump of
fame. It resides within, when the man walks with God and subdues the
earth beneath his feet. When the soul communes with the spiritual, and
makes the visible to glow in the light of the unseen. When the man's
peace and joy all stream from the deep springs of God's love, and the
man lives in God, and God lives in him. Herein lies the highest kind of
life–it is the flower of the life that now is–and GODLINESS it is
that has the promise of it.
I must not detain you longer, except to make an application of the
subject to the present assembly. Brothers and Sisters, you who have
godliness, and live in the fear of God, let me entreat you to believe
that there is provided for you in godliness, comfort, joy, and delight
for the life that now is. You need not postpone your feasting upon
Christ till you see Him face to face. Feed on Him this day. You need
not wait for the joys of the Holy Spirit till you have shaken off this
cumbrous clay. The joy of the Lord is your strength today. You need not
think that your peace and rest remain as yet in the future, hidden from
you. Eternal life with its blessings is a present possession.
They that believe do enter into rest, and may enter into rest now. The
clusters of Eshcol are before you, brought to you by a Divine hand
before you cross the Jordan–
"The men of Grace ha ve found Glory begun below, Celestial fruits on
earthly ground From faith and hope do grow."
We do not say that godliness has made all Believers rich, for some here
will be content always to be poor. The whole body of the faithful
cannot claim that godliness has brought them earthly treasure, for some
of the greatest of them have written that if in this life only they had
hope, they would have been of all men the most miserable. But without
exception, the whole of us can unanimously declare that we have found
in godliness the highest happiness, the supreme delight, the richest
consolation.
I pray you, therefore, who profess godliness, be not content unless you
have the promise of the life that now is. Believe that you can not only
make this life sublime, but make it joyous. Believe that you can now be
raised up together and made to sit together in the heavenly places in
Christ Jesus. You cannot find a Heaven in things below, for the moth is
there, and the rust that corrupts. But you can, while here, if you set
your affections upon things above, and not on things on the earth, find
Glory begun within you, and a young Heaven already shining about your
path. The life that now is– claim it! Up, you sons of Israel, and slay
the Amalekites that would take away from you your comfort! Arise, you
men that fear the Lord, and demand that doubts and fears, like the
accursed Canaanites, shall be chased from the land. For the promise of
God ought to be believed, and in the believing of it, your peace shall
be like a river, and your joy shall overflow.
Another application of the text is this. There is a bearing of it upon
the sinner. It is quite certain, O ungodly man, that the promise of the
life that now is belongs only to those who are godly. Are you content
to miss the cream of this
life? I pray you, if you will not think of the life to come, at least
think of this. You desire to be happy. You have intelligence enough to
know that happiness does not consist in externals, but in the state of
your mind. I assure you, and there are thousands of my Brethren who can
affirm the same, that after having tried the ways of sin, we infinitely
prefer the ways of righteousness for their own pleasure's sake even
here, and we would not change with ungodly men even if we had to die
like dogs.
With all the sorrow and care which Christian life is supposed to bring,
we would prefer it to any other form of life beneath the stars. There
is no man like the Christian, after all. Happy are you, O Israel, a
people saved of the Lord! We do not come to you and tell you that
godliness will make you rich, although there is no need that it should
make you poor. We do not tell you it will make you healthy. It
certainly will not make you the reverse. But these are not the things
with which we would bribe you–these are inferior blessings, which we
dare not set before you as worthy of your seeking after in the first
instance.
But we do tell you that if you will but seek the Lord while He may be
found, and put your trust in His Christ, who came to put away sin, you
shall have the happiest, best, noble, most desirable life that can be
enjoyed on earth! Now many of you believe this. I know you do. In your
hearts you envy Christians–even poor Christians. You feel that you
would gladly be as sick or as poor as yonder pious saint, if you might
have his hope, if you might have his God. Well, if you know which is
best, have which is best. "May I have it?" says one. Who said you might
not? Does not the Lord invite you to taste and see that He is good?
Has not He even commanded you, and are not these His Words, "Believe in
the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved"? Simply to trust, and to
rely–this is to begin the Divine life, and this will introduce you
into a nobler sphere than mortals know of. They rejoice when corn and
wine fill their barns and their vats, but you will say, "Lord, lift up
the light of Your countenance upon me," and in that you will find a
richer joy than they. "Seek you the Lord while He may be found, call
you upon Him while He is near: let the wicked forsake his way, and the
unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He
will have mercy upon him. And to our God, for He will abundantly
pardon." God bless you, for Christ's sake.
[Sermon #946, The Profit of Godliness in the Life to Come, is the
sermon Brother Spurgeon preached in the evening of June 19, 1870, and
is the companion sermon to this one.]
__________________________________________________________________
A Good Soldier Of Jesus Christ