The Place of Prayer and Pardon
(No. 2637)
INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S-DAY, AUGUST 27, 1899.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON THURSDAY EVENING, JUNE 1,
1882.
"Whatever burden or whatever sickness there is: then what prayer or
what supplication shall be made of any man, or of all Your people
Israel, when everyone shall know his own burden and his own grief, and
shall spread forth his hands in this house: then hear You from Heaven,
Your dwelling place, and forgive, and render unto every man according
unto all his ways, whose heart You know (for You, only, know the hearts
of the children of men)." 2 Chronicles 6:28-30.
THE Temple was intended to be the center of prayer for all the children
of Israel. Those who could do so went up to it a certain number of
times every year. Others, who were too far away to go, prayed with
their window open towards Jerusalem, for there was the Mercy Seat and
beneath the wings of the overshadowing cherubim there dwelt that bright
light of the Shekinah which was the index of the Presence of God in the
midst of His people. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that when
Solomon dedicated to the Lord the Temple which he had built, his great
petition was that God would hear every prayer that should be offered in
that place or toward that place! He wished the Temple to always be to
Israel the token that God's memorial is that He hears prayer. Solomon
therefore presented a wonderfully comprehensive series of supplications
in which he appears to have included all the sorrowful conditions of
the nation and all the troubles that were likely to fall upon the
chosen people.
But this part of his prayer, which we are now to consider, seems as
though it were intended to gather up anything that the suppliant might
possibly have left out. We always think that we are among the great
things–that we are out upon the deep seas–when we can get among the
"whatevers." "Whatever burden or whatever sickness there is: then what
prayer or what supplication shall be made of any man, or of all Your
people Israel…then hear You from Heaven, Your dwelling place, and
forgive." It is a sort of miscellaneous sentence, taking up all the
stragglers–the lots that are out of the catalog–those that could not
be placed under any distinct head. And they are here put under the
general description of the "whatevers," that every man whatever, who
should know his own burden and his own grief, and the plague of his own
heart, should turn his eye and his prayer toward Jerusalem–and that
God should then hear him and forgive him.
We have no sacred spot now, Beloved Friends, towards which we turn when
we pray. The Ritualists talk a great deal about the importance of "the
eastward position," but I believe that any other position in the
world–westward, southward, or northward–is just as good and that we
may pray to God with equal acceptance whichever way we turn. Cow-per
truly sings–
"Jesus, wherever Your people meet, There they behold Your Mercy Seat!
Wherever they seek You, You are found, And everyplace is hallowed
ground."
Yet we have a Temple into which they cannot enter who think the mere
materialistic building is the all-important matter, just as we have an
Altar to which they have no right to approach so long as they are
content with the visible and the external. Our Temple is the Person of
the Lord Jesus Christ–"In Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead
bodily." When we pray, we turn our faces toward Him. He said to the
Pharisees, "In this place is One greater than the Temple," and so He
is. Though He is to us of the same use as the Temple was to Israel, yet
is He infinitely more precious and far greater than the Temple and
whoever, whatever his trouble shall be, shall pray unto God with his
face toward Jesus, looking to the matchless wounds by which He has
redeemed us, or the glorified Person in which He represents us, and
invokes intercession for us before the Throne of God on high, he shall
be helped, he shall be forgiven, whatever his trouble or whatever his
sin!
I. So, coming to the text, I shall, first of all, deal with the fact
that EACH MAN HAS, OR WILL HAVE, SOME KIND OF GRIEF AND SORROW.
I may have some in this congregation, who can say, "We have no grief.
We have no trouble." Well, if that is the case, I am not sure that I
can congratulate you, though I am very glad when all God's children are
happy in the Lord, and can joy and rejoice in His name. I pray that
they may always do so, for I remember how Paul said, "Rejoice in the
Lord always." Surely that was enough, yet he added, "and again I say,
Rejoice." You cannot be too happy in the Lord! And whenever you meet
others who are of a doubtful or troubled spirit, do not imitate them,
though, I pray you, do not despise them! They may be, on the whole, in
a better spiritual state than you are, although they are not better
than you are as to their present difficulty. "The joy of the Lord is
your strength," and it is an excellent thing for a child of God to be
happy and joyful in his Savior. Yet I should not wonder, dear Friend,
that the day may come when you, whose eyes are brightest and whose
steps are most elastic, will yet find that you shall have trouble in
the flesh and, perhaps, trouble in the spirit, too, even as it was with
those to whom the Apostle Peter wrote, "Though now for a season, if
need be, you are in heaviness through manifold temptations," or trials.
Not only do we have manifold trials, but we get into heaviness through
them. It does happen to many of the best of God's servants that they
have their sorrow and grief. Just lately I have seen several persons
who, I am persuaded, love the Lord and the Lord loves them–they are
very precious to Him– humble, gentle, gracious people, but they have
come into deep trouble, or some heavy cloud rests upon them. It is to
them, especially, that I am now speaking.
Dear troubled Friend, you may have a grief or sorrow that is not known
to anybody but yourself You would not like to reveal it to anyone, you
would not whisper it in the ear of the dearest confidant that you have
on earth. You keep it to yourself and, perhaps, that is the very reason
why it becomes so bitter to you. The communicating of it to some
Christian friend might be a real help to you. You know what a relief it
is to be able to shed tears when you are in great anguish. If you can
have a good cry, you can get over the trouble more easily, but,
sometimes, you cannot find expression for the grief and so the pent-up
flame becomes more fierce than otherwise it would have been.
Well, there are children of God of that sort, just like Hannah, the
woman of a sorrowful spirit, whose adversary sorely vexed her to make
her fret. And even when she went up to the House of the Lord, it was in
bitterness of soul that she stood there and prayed unto the Most High.
I do not think that she could have told anybody, except possibly her
husband, what the great grief of her heart was and, dear Friend, if you
have a grief that you cannot tell to any human being, let my text
affectionately invite you to look toward Jesus, the Temple of this
dispensation, and tell the Lord all about your sorrow and ask Him to
give you help, in this, your time of need.
It may be that your trouble, though it is known to others, is
misunderstood. It is a very grievous thing when the affliction of God's
people is misread, misinterpreted and others say, "Oh, nonsense! There
is nothing to it!" Or else they say, "You are only making a rod for
your own back. You might help yourself, if you liked, and get out of
that sad state of mind." You know how the exhortation to "make an
effort" is often given when all possibility of effort from within has
long since passed away! And it is a very grievous thing when those whom
we love utterly misunderstand us. They seem to read our words
backwards. So far from having any sympathy with us, they are not able
to enter into our secret sorrow. Alas for the child of God who is in
that sad condition! But if you are thus troubled–if you know the
plague of your own heart, but nobody else knows why you are so
plagued–if you feel your own burden, but nobody else can see it, go to
Jesus and tell Him of your inward grief. Open the door of your heart
and let Him inspect all your being and ask Him for the gracious
forgiveness which is the sweetest balm for your wounds. And then pray
for a visitation of His blessed Spirit as the Comforter, that your
heart may rejoice and be glad in Him.
Possibly, dear Friend, I may be speaking to you who have a grief which
is not only unknown, or if known, is misunderstood, but to you who are
lonesome in your sorrow. As far as you can tell, nobody ever before
went the way which you are now treading. When I have preached,
sometimes, to the despondent and the despairing, I have been thankful
when, afterwards, persons have come to me and said that my sermon was
the first ray of comfort they had ever received. I therefore try to
practice Mr. Wesley's plan of firing low. He meant by it, speaking
plainly, so as to hit the groundlings, but while I endorse that view of
the expression, I mean also another–not to shoot high where only some
soaring professors may be, but to fire low, where the poor and needy
are lying on their faces before God! I want to preach so that those who
are ready to perish may come to Christ and that those who never before
had a hope may begin to hope in Him. My dear Friend, if you are the
only one who ever traveled along that rough road, and if you even think
that you have no equal in your misery, but sit alone in your sorrow,
yet are you bid to turn your face towards Christ, your Temple, and
whatever may be your case, to tell it all to Him. And as Jesus lives,
He will hear and answer you, and you shall yet go your way in peace!
I do not know what may be the peculiarities of your case. "The heart
knows his own bitterness and a stranger does not intermeddle with his
joy." There are depths and there are heights where we must be alone.
There are some griefs that we must keep to ourselves, as there are some
raptures and experiences of which, if we were to tell them, men would
say that we were fanatical and suspect that we were out of our mind! Do
not be surprised, therefore, if you have sometimes to sail alone, so
far as any human beings are concerned. If Christ is in the vessel with
you, you cannot need any better company.
This grief of yours, my dear Friend, may be connected with some sin, or
if not actually so, you may think it is. You may have lost the Light of
God's Countenance by some omission, or by walking at a distance from
Him. It may be that you have been negligent in prayer. Or, possibly,
there may have been some sin of commission–perhaps you have yielded to
temptation and, therefore, it is that you are made to walk in the dark.
Well, if it is so, do not let even that sad state prevent your coming
to Jesus with your burden, for He has not only come to help us in our
troubles, but to save us from our sins! "If any man sins, we have an
Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and He is the
propitiation for our sins." Do not, therefore, think that when you have
sinned, you are shut out from the Savior. No, but there is "a fountain
opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for
sin and for uncleanness"–open on purpose to cleanse them from sin and
impurity!
Paul wrote to the Galatians that our Lord Jesus Christ "gave Himself
for our sins," upon which passage, Martin Luther observes that Christ
never gave Himself for our righteousness! There was never enough of
that to be worth His doing so, but He gave Himself for our sins, that
He might put them away from us forever. Come, then, though a sense of
guilt should put a sting into your sorrow which otherwise it would not
possess. And though you may truly say, "I brought all this misery upon
myself, I know I did. I played the fool, exceedingly, and now the
mischief is done and cannot be undone," yet remember that there is One
who can lift the load off your spirit and say to you, "Go in peace!
Your sins, which are many, are all forgiven you." Look toward the
Temple, even to Christ in whom God dwells, and from whom God shines!
Tell Him your grief and you shall yet rejoice in the peace which He
delights to bestow.
"Ah," says one, "I am glad to hear this good news, for the sake of
others, but my case is a peculiarly trying one, for I have been in this
sad state of mind for many years." Yes, and how long was that daughter
of Abraham bowed down so that she could by no means lift up herself?
Was it not 18 years? Yet how long did it take Christ to make her
upright? Why, not a moment! He spoke and she became straight at once,
and able to walk like other women! You remember, also, that the
impotent man had been waiting at the pool of Bethesda 38 years and the
"high Doctrine" folk of that day told him to keep on waiting at the
pool. But when Jesus Christ came round that way, He did not tell him to
wait a minute, but He said, "Rise, take up your bed, and walk." And he
did so in an instant!
You, poor troubled Soul, need not continue to lie at the pool! You need
not wait there a single moment more! Trust in Christ, who comes to you
in all your inability, in all your sinfulness, in all your depression
of spirit, in all your despair and who says to you, "Live. I have loved
you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I
drawn you." "Look unto Me, and be you saved, all the ends of the earth:
for I am God, and there is none else." "Come now, and let us reason
together, says the Lord: though your sins are as scarlet, they shall be
as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as
wool." These are glorious Words of Grace! May the Lord speak them home
to your heart even now! The devil himself cannot hold a man in
captivity when once Christ gives him liberty! Though his feet are made
fast in the stocks, and it is the dead hour of midnight, yet shall he
begin to sing praises unto God! And his fellow prisoners shall hear him
when Jesus of Nazareth passes by and gives him the gracious Word which
makes him free! Christ crucified is your only hope! Therefore, turn
your eyes to Him. By faith, look to those dear wounds of His. From your
inmost soul, breathe your penitent prayer to Him and He will grant you
the desire of your heart, even life forevermore!
II. Secondly, IF WE HAVE A GRIEF OR SORROW, IT IS WELL TO KNOW IT, for
Solomon here speaks "of any man, or of all Your people Israel, when
everyone shall know his own burden and his own grief."
In visiting the sick, lately, I have been struck with the different
ways in which the children of men are afflicted. There is one of our
Beloved Brothers who is covered with blisters from head to foot.
Another is lying in a critical condition through congestion of the
lungs. There is another gradually melting away with consumption, while
cancer is eating out the very life of yet another friend. Now, just as
it is with the pangs of the body, so is it with the diseases of the
mind and the soul. They are of various kinds and though they may be
arranged under different heads, there is no one spiritual burden or
sorrow exactly like another and, therefore, it is well for every man to
know his own burden and his own grief. My faults are not exactly the
same as yours and yours, probably, are not quite like mine. That which
greatly grieves me might never trouble you if you had it, while that
which worries and troubles you might be a thing which I could laugh at
if it came to me. We must never judge one another, nor may we wish to
have other people's sorrows and griefs, but we must try, as far as we
can, to know, every man, his own burden and his own grief.
For, first, sometimes to know your grief, is to get rid of it It is the
unknown that is often the most terrible. Belshaz-zar, when his knees
knocked together, was frightened because he saw the part of the hand
that wrote upon the wall, but he did not see the form of the writer,
nor could he tell what was written. It was the mystery of the thing
that troubled him and, sometimes, when you do not know what your
trouble is, it is more of a trial to you than when you can get it into
a definite shape. It is a grand thing to be able to look at it, to
measure it, to take stock of it, to write down, in black and white,
what it is that is worrying you. If you do that, you will probably say
to yourself, "How foolish I am to let this be a trouble to me at all!"
And sometimes, on the other hand, you will find yourself foolish in
another sense. After Christian and Hopeful had been shut up in the
dungeon in Giant Despair's Castle for several days and nights,
Christian said to his companion, "What a fool I am, thus to lie in a
stinking dungeon when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my
bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in
Doubting Castle." We may find ourselves saying just the same thing! We
shall look at our trouble till we shall exclaim, "Why, blessed be God,
there is a promise in His Word which exactly meets this difficulty! God
the Holy Spirit has left on record the message that is just adapted to
this very trial! Therefore, why do I lie moaning and groaning in this
dungeon, when I might at once walk out into Gospel liberty?" So I say
to you, Beloved, seek to know what your burden or your grief really is,
for it is the unknown that is usually filled with terrors.
It is, too, the undiscovered, often, that is the most dangerous. As I
have already said, our sorrows are oftentimes connected with our sins.
It is a terrible thing to have a sin festering in your soul and to not
know it. If a man tells me that he has no sin, I ask him to look
within, or even to look without upon his own life. But if he thinks
that he is perfect there, let him keep on looking within. And if he
does not discover something evil there, it must be because an awful
blindness has fallen upon him! Often there is sin connected with our
trouble–and it is most important for us to see it and to know it. I
think that it was St. Francis de Sales who said that, among all those
who came to him confessing their sins, not one ever confessed to being
covetous. And it is a curious thing that, as a rule, no covetous man
ever believes that he is covetous. Covetousness is a most deceitful
thing! Pray God to point it out to you if it is within your heart, lest
it should destroy you! A man may be in such a state of soul that the
scarlet fever of pride may be killing him and yet, all the while, he
may be thinking, "What a humble person I am!" For pride is another of
the most deceptive sins. Every man should try to know what his own
weakness is. Perhaps the very point in which you think you are the
strongest is that in which you are really weakest. And the thing which
does not trouble you in the least may, after all, be that which ought
to cause the greatest searching of heart. Do pray the Lord, each one of
you, to cause you to know your own burden and your own grief.
Remember that if there is sin mixed with our sorrow, it ought not only
to be known, but to be so known as to be confessed. Oh, what an
easement to the soul it is when you can confess your sin to the Lord! I
would have you do it distinctly in the most plain words possible. Do
not attempt to cloak the matter before God, for you cannot hide
anything from Him. Remember how David, at last, prayed God to deliver
him from blood-guiltiness. He was on the right road to getting rest in
his soul when he could confess his great crime like that! I have heard
of one who was a child of God, but he was grievously overtaken when, in
company, he drank too much. He could not get any peace of mind for
months until he said, "Lord, I was drunk." And after he had put it in
that way, he found forgiveness, peace and rest. No doubt, before that,
he had said, "I am afraid I was a little imprudent," or used some of
those pretty phrases which people employ as a cloak for their
wrong-doing when they will not confess the evil in all its nakedness
and deformity. Away with the fig leaves! God abhors them! It is Hewho
must clothe you! And He will do so with the righteousness of His Son.
But, if He is to accept you, there must be no attempt to lighten your
guilt. Let sin be called sin and, in the Presence of Christ–
"Sin does like itself appear,"
and the sinner sees its heinousness and learns to hate it. So, then,
each man must know his own burden, his own grief and especially his own
sin–that he may confess it unto God.
What does all this come to, then, dear Brother, dear Sister? You have,
perhaps, been coming to see me, or to see one of the elders, about your
trouble. We cannot help you much, though we will gladly do what we can
for you. But, now, try to make it clear to your own mind what all the
trouble is about–get it down in black and white if you can–and then
come with it to the Lord. Often there is far too much indistinctness in
our prayers. We really do not know what we are aiming at and,
consequently, we miss the mark. We have not a clear idea what it is
that we are seeking of the Lord and, therefore, we do not get it. But
if we really know our grief and know our burden, and know our sin, and
know the plague of our own heart–and then go before the Lord with it
all, and say, "That is my trouble, Lord. I confess it before You with a
broken heart and a contrite spirit," it will not be long before the
Lord, in mercy, shall give us peace.
III. Now, thirdly, and briefly, while it is well to know our grief, IT
IS BETTER, STILL, TO PRAY ABOUT IT. I have been hammering away at this
Truth of God, but now I want to give a few blows right upon the head of
the nail.
Dear troubled Friend, there is no relief for you like prayer And if you
are almost in despair, permit me to put the matter to you very gently.
I will try to push in the thin end of the wedge first. Perhaps, if you
go to God, and pray about your trouble, you will get deliverance from
it. I say, perhaps. Put it so, to begin with. You cannot lose anything,
can you, by praying to God? Suppose you go to the Lord with your
grief–you cannot be any worse off than you already are, can you? You
are now in such a sad condition, so much bowed down that if you confess
your sin and your sorrow at His dear feet, and leave them there, you
cannot be in a sadder plight than you are now, can you? Well, then,
say, with the poet–
"I'll to the gracious King approach, Whose scepterpardon gives. Perhaps
He may command my touch And then the suppliant lives! Perhaps He will
admit my plea, Perhaps will hear my prayer– But if I perish, I will
pray, And perish only there. I can but perish if I go. I am resolved to
try, For if I stay away, I know I must forever die."
It may be that the Lord will deliver you. There is many a man who has
gone to God on the strength of a, "may be," and yet that, "may be," has
been enough to land him in Heaven at last! You remember how the whole
of the people of Nineveh had nothing to rely upon except that question
of their king, "Who can tell if God will turn and repent, and turn away
from His fierce anger, that we perish not?" That was a very tiny
thread, "Who can tell?" But, relying on it, they went and humbled
themselves before God–and we know what followed–"And God saw their
works, that they turned from their evil ways. And God repented of the
evil that He had said that He would do unto them, and He did it not."
Sister, I would like to whisper that question in your ear, "Who can
tell?" Brother, I would like to take your hand and say to you, "Come
now, do not despair. Who can tell? It may be that the Lord will be also
gracious to you. Go and cast yourself at His feet and determine to lie
there, and to perish there, if you must perish. But you shall not
perish if you go to Him."
Remember, again, that there is One who is quite ready to give you a
fullhearing, whatever your trouble andyour sin may be, for the Lord
Jesus Christ already knows all about your trouble–
"Our fellow Sufferer yet retains
A fellow feeling of our pains
And still remembers in the skies
His tears, and agonies, and cries.
In every pang that rends the heart,
The Man of Sorrows had a part.
He sympathizes in our grief,
And to the sufferer sends relief." If you come to me, I shall try to
sympathize with you as fully as I can. But, perhaps, I shall fail, for
you may be so deep in the bog that I may never have gone quite as low
down as that. But if you go to the Lord Jesus Christ, you can never be
as deep in sorrow as He was when His agony forced from Him great drops
of blood and His soul was "exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death."
And, as for your sin, black as it is, it is not too black for Him to
remove! Bring out the sin that is more than a match for Christ, if you
can. Remember His great declaration, "All manner of sin and blasphemy
shall be forgiven unto men." Oh, it is you, poor woman, is it? Are you
like the one of whom we were reading just now? Do you feel yourself as
great a sinner as she was, or are you actually a woman of the very
vilest class? And are your accusers near, who, if you were to deny your
guilt, would stand up and witness against you? Jesus says to you, "Go,
and sin no more." O poor sinful Soul, go to Jesus even if you have all
the sins that are unmentionable piled upon you! And if you are a man
who has committed as much sin as all the rest of the world put
together, yet come along! My Lord, who bore upon His shoulders the sin
of the world, is fully able to put your sin away–
"If all the sins that men have done
In thought, or word, or deed
Since worlds were made, or time began,
Were heaped on one poor sinner's head," yet could the blood of Jesus
Christ blot them all out in a single moment, so that though they were
sought for, they should never be found again! Oh, that you would but
come and trust the Lord Jesus Christ!
"Ah," says one, "that is just my difficulty–I cannot trust Him." If
you talk like that, you and I will fall out directly! If you tell me
that you cannot trust my father, I shall say, "My father is a man of
truth and honor. He pays his debts and he never lies! And I will not
have you say, 'I cannot trust him.'" But whatever you call my father, I
shall not be half so indignant as when you tell me that you cannot
trust my Savior! When did He lie, pray tell? When was He ever false?
When did He ever fail? You say you cannot trust Him? Why, I feel that
if I had all your souls in one, I could trust Him with the whole of
them! Yes, if I could get into this body of mine all the souls that God
ever made, I would trust Him with the whole bulk, for I am persuaded
that He was never trusted too much! You could never believe of Christ a
thing so good that it was not true! Suppose that you believe that He
can forgive you–He will do it! He will never let your belief go beyond
what He will do. If you believe that He will wash you so that you shall
be whiter than snow, He will do it! Faith and Christ often run a race,
but Christ always wins, for, if faith flies like the wind, Christ
flashes like the lightning and He outstrips it. You cannot possibly
believe too good a thing of Him. Just try, now, whether you can do so!
Should not that Truth of God tend to cheer you, poor downcast one?
The best thing that you can do is to remember that there is an open
door to every soul who lives. Then, draw near to God. There is no
barrier in the way and there is a blessed text, at the end of this
Book, which says, "Whoever will, let him take the Water of Life
freely." I saw a man once, in a court ofjustice, who was called up to
the witness box, but he could not press through the crowd. So the judge
spoke to the usher, and the usher said to the people, "Let him come!
Let him come! Let him come!" And after he had said that, there began to
be a little narrow lane made for him, and so he squeezed his way up.
Now there is a poor sinner over there, and there are a thousand devils
between him and Christ! But when Christ says to them, "Let him come!
Let him come! Let him come!" They must make a lane for him. When our
Lord Jesus Christ was upon the earth, on the great day of the feast, He
stood and cried, "If any man thirsts, let him come unto Me, and drink."
Who will say to Him, "Lord, I am that man! I am thirsty and You say,
'Let him come'"? If you say that, who is there to stop you from going
to Him? Why, if the arch-fiend should set himself right in your way,
yet if Jesus Christ says, "Let him come," you shall come!
Did not He say, long ago, "Let there be light"? and the primeval
darkness, which had lasted throughout many an age, was gone in an
instant! So, if the Lord says, "Let him come," then all that oppose you
and try to keep you back must be overthrown, for you shall come! Trust
Jesus, dear Friend! Trust in the name of the Lord of love and mercy,
who is looking upon you, a poor, bruised, broken, manacled mass of
misery. I beseech you, turn your eyes towards Christ. O you poor
smoking flax, if you have not anything about you but smoke, and that
smoke is not very sweet, yet Jesus Christ says that He will not quench
you! O you poor bruised reed, out of which there can come no music as
you are, I tell you that He will yet get music out of you! Only look to
Him, poor troubled one, for He knows how to bind up the broken in
heart, and to heal their wounds and, thereby, to glorify Himself. Oh,
for another prayer, even though it were your last! Do breathe it. I
know that Satan will try hard to stop you. He will say, "It is no use!
You have been praying for months! You have been praying for years!"
Yes, but, this time pray as you never prayed before! Perhaps you have
been lifting up your eyes to a priest, or to a man, or to a Doctrine,
or to a creed–now just look right away to Jesus Christ! That is the
way that prayer was heard in the olden days, when they looked toward
the Temple! And your prayer shall be heard when you look to the Savior!
"Oh, but just look at me!" you say. No, I do not want to look at you! I
want you to look to Christ. "Oh, but, Sir, I am dreadfully wicked! I
confess it with shame." Yes, and you are probably a hundred times worse
than you think you are! You are a good-for-nothing sort of person. You
are an out-of-the-way sinner, but that is the very reason why I want
you to believe in Him "who can have compassion on the ignorant, and on
them that are out of the way."
I want you to look to Him who came to earth on purpose that He might
wash these Blackamoors white, and take the spots out of these leopards,
and make them to become like lambs! My Lord did not come into the world
to be a doctor who only cures finger-aches and small complaints! He
came to cleanse the lepers, to cast out demons, to raise the dead–
even Lazarus, who had begun to putrefy! Oh, He is such a glorious
Savior that I cannot speak His praises loudly enough, though speaking
of Him warms my own heart! My voice was hoarse when I began my sermon
and I thought I could hardly get through the discourse, but, with such
a theme as this, I forget all weakness and pain! Yes, raise me even
when I am dying, that I may sit up in bed and begin to praise Him!
There never was a sinner half as big as Christ is a Savior! Come and
measure the sinner, if you like, from head to foot, and all round. Make
him out to be an elephantine sinner, yet there is room for him in the
Ark, Christ Jesus! There is room in the heart of Jesus for the vilest
of the vile! Oh, that you would turn your eyes to Him and pray to Him
from your very heart and trust in Him with your whole soul!
I finish up by saying that those who do this shall find rest unto their
souls. Solomon's petition was that they should be forgiven. "Then hear
You from Heaven, Your dwelling place, and forgive." Yes, and everything
else that a sinner needs is ready for him when he comes to Christ. I do
not know–I cannot tell–all that you need, but I do know that all you
ever can need between here and Heaven is laid up for you in Christ
Jesus! I have used this illustration before. Here is a poor little babe
that we have picked up in the streets. What shall we do with it? What
does this child need? Well, it needs washing–look how filthy it is,
for it has been lying in the gutter. It needs food, poor little
creature–look how emaciated it is. It needs proper clothes–look at
its rags. I would have to keep on a long time and you mothers who are
listening to me might say, "He does not know much about what the babe
needs." But I will show you that I do, because in one single sentence I
will tell you what that child needs! It needs its MOTHER! And when it
gets its mother, it has got everything. When its mother finds it, then
it is provided for! And what you need, dear Soul, is pardon, cleansing,
clothing, training, sanctifying–but I will not go over it all. What
you need is your SAVIOR! You need Jesus and if you get Jesus, you never
shall have a need that is outside of Christ! You shall never have a
necessity that is not comprised within the matchless circle of His
unspeakable all-sufficiency! Oh, take Christ to your heart and your
fortune is made! You have all you need for time and for eternity, when
once the Lord Jesus Christ is yours! Oh, that you would make a dash for
this great blessing!
"I am afraid to come," says one. Well come all trembling and
fearing–only come. "But I am afraid I shall be cast out if I come."
Oh, but you must not indulge that fear, for He has said, "He that comes
to Me I will in no wise cast out." "But suppose I should not happen to
be one of the right sort?" Come all the same, whether you are or not,
for Christ will not cast you out if you do but come to Him! When a man
is very hungry, if he takes bread that is not his own and eats it, no
one will ever take it away from him, for he has it too securely. So, if
you come and take the Lord Jesus Christ into your very soul, there is
no one who can take Him away from you! "Oh, taste and see that the Lord
is good!" And he that really feeds upon Him has so received Him that he
shall never lose Him. Oh, that all who are strangers to Him might do so
even now. The Lord bless you all, for Jesus' sake! Amen.
EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: JOHN 7:53; 8:1-11.
John 7:53; John 8:1: And every man went unto his own house. Jesus went
unto the Mount of Olives. That is, as every man went to his own house
to rest, so Jesus found rest in secret prayer on the Mount of Olives.
There is a very striking contrast here. It is a pity to have brought
the dividing saw right through the middle of such charming consecutive
sentences.
2. And early in the morning He came again into the Temple, and all the
people came unto Him; and He sat down, and taught them. That is always
the posture in the East–the teachers sit, and the hearers stand. We
may have to try that plan one of these days–it might be better for me
and, also, for you! There might be less drowsiness, perhaps, if the
congregation had to stand to listen to the preacher's message.
3, 4. And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto Him a woman taken in
adultery; and when they had set her in the midst, they said unto Him,
Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act They did this
only to entangle the Savior–not because they wanted to learn anything
of Him, or to do this woman any good, or even to vindicate morality. It
was simply an effort to entrap Him.
5, 6. Now Moses in the Law commanded us that such should be stoned: but
what say You? This they said, tempting Him, that they might have to
accuse Him. They could accuse Him either way. If He sanctioned their
stoning the woman, they would charge Him with violating the Roman law.
But if He said that she should not be stoned, then they would say that
He differed from Moses and set aside the Law of God.
6, 7. But Jesus stooped down, and with His finger wrote on the ground,
as though He heard them not So when they continued asking Him, He
lifted up Himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among
you, let him first cast a stone at her That sentence must have flashed
like a drawn sword, keen as a razor, through the very midst of them!
Here were men who had probably been living in abominable sin, yet they
had brought this poor sinful woman to Jesus and laid this accusation
against her.
8. And again He stooped down, and wrote on the ground. After He had
fired that one red-hot shot, He waited until it had produced its due
effect.
9. And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience,
went out, one by one, beginning with the eldest, even unto the last;
and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst They left
her alone with Jesus in the midst of the place that the guilty crowd
had forsaken in silent shame.
10. 11. When Jesus had lifted up Himself, and saw none but the woman,
He said unto her, Woman, where are those, your accusers? Has no man
condemned you? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither
do I condemn you: go, and sin no more. He condemned the sin–His own
pure and holy life was the best condemnation of that. But, as for the
sinner, He had not come to condemn, but to forgive. His own declaration
was, "The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."