"The Garment of Praise"
(No. 3349)
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, APRIL 10, 1913.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Isaiah 61:3.
THE list of comforts which the Anointed has here prepared for His
mourners is apparently inexhaustible. He seems as if He delighted to
give "according to the multitude of His tender mercies" a very cloud of
blessings. This is the third of His sacred exchanges–"the garment of
praise for the spirit of heaviness." Grace, like its God, delights to
be a trinity. This is also the broadest of the blessings, for whereas
the first adorned the face with beauty, and the second anointed the
head with joy, this last and widest covers the whole person with a
garment of praise! Man's first vesture was of his own making and it
could not cover his shame–but this garment is of God's making and it
makes us comfortable in ourselves, and comely in the sight of God and
man. They are better adorned than Solomon in all his glory, to whom God
gives the garment of praise. May the blessed Spirit sweetly help us to
bring out the rich meaning of this promise to mourners, for again I
must remind you that these things are only given to them–and not to
the thoughtless world.
We have already noticed the variety of the consolation which Jesus
brings to mourners–the Plant of Renown produces many lovely flowers
with rich perfume and a multitude of choice fruits of dainty taste. Now
we would call your attention to their marvelous adaptation to our
needs. Man has a spirit and the gifts of Grace are spiritual. His chief
maladies lie in his soul and the blessings of the Covenant deal with
his spiritual needs. Our text mentions "the spirit of heaviness" and
gives a promise that it shall be removed. The blessings which Jesus
gives to us are not surface blessings, but they touch the center of our
being! At first we may not perceive their depth, but only know that
beauty is given instead of ashes–this might seem to be an external
change. Further on, however, joy is given, instead of mourning, and
this is inward–the thought has advanced, we are getting nearer the
heart. But in the words before us, the very spirit of heaviness, the
fountain from which the mourning flows, the hearth whereon the ashes
are burned is dealt with and taken away–and instead thereof we receive
the garment of praise! What a mercy it is that the blessings of the
Everlasting Covenant belong to the realm of the spirit for, after all,
the outward is transient, the visible soon perishes. We are grateful
for the food and raiment which our bodies require, but our sterner need
is nourishment, consolation and protection for our spirits. The
Covenant of Grace blesses the man, himself–the soul–which is the
essence of his life. It puts away the sordid sackcloth of despondency
and robes the spirit in royal garments of praise. Judge you your state
by your estimation of such favors, for if you have learned to prize
them, they are yours! The worldling cares nothing for spiritual
blessings. His beauty, joy, and praise are found in things which perish
in the using. But those who know their preciousness have been taught of
God and since they can appreciate them, they shall have them!
Soul-mercy is the very soul of mercy and he whom the Lord blesses in
his spirit, is blessed indeed!
I want you still further to notice how these blessings grow as we
proceed. At first, out of the triplet of favors here bestowed there was
beauty given, instead of ashes. There is much there–beauty of personal
character before God is no mean thing–yet a man might have that, and
by reason of his anxiety of heart he might scarcely be aware of it.
Doubtless many who are lovely in the sight of God spend much of their
time in bewailing their own uncomeliness. Many a saint sorrows over
himself, while others are rejoicing in him! Therefore, the next mercy
given to the mourner in Zion is the oil of joy, which is a personal and
conscious delight. The man rejoices. He perceives that he is made
beautiful before God and he begins to joy in what the Lord has done for
him and in the Anointed One from whom the oil of gladness descends.
This is an advance upon the other, but now we come to the highest of
all! Seeing that God has made him glad, he perceives his obligations to
God and he expresses them in thankfulness–and so stands before the
Most High like a white-robed priest, putting on praise as the garment
in which he appears in the courts of the Lord's House, and is seen by
his Brothers and
Sisters. As you advance in the Divine Life, the blessings you receive
will appear to be greater and greater. Some promising things become
small by degrees and miserably less, but in the Kingdom of Heaven we go
from strength to strength. The beginning of the Christian life is like
the water in the pots at Cana, but in due time it blushes into wine.
The pathway which we tread is, at first, bright as the dawn, but if we
pursue it with sacred perseverance, its radiance will be as the perfect
day! There shall be no going down of our sun, but it shall shine with
increasing luster till it shall be as the light of seven days, and the
days of our mourning shall be ended!
I beg you also to mark that when we reach the greatest mercy and stand
on the summit of blessing, we have reached a condition of
praise–praise to God invests our whole nature. To be wrapped in praise
to God is the highest state of the soul. To receive the mercy for which
we praise God is something, but to be wholly clothed with praise to God
for the mercy received is far more! Why, praise is Heaven, and Heaven
is praise! To pray is Heaven below, but praise is the essence of Heaven
above! When you bow lowest in adoration, you are at your very highest.
The soul full of joy takes a still higher step when it clothes itself
with praise. Such a heart takes to itself no glory, for it is dressed
in gratitude and so hides itself. Nothing is seen of the flesh and its
self-exaltation, since the garment of praise hides the pride of man.
May you all who are heavy in spirit be so clothed upon with delight in
the Lord, who has covered you with the robe of righteousness, that you
may be as wedding guests adorned for the palace of the King with
glittering garments of adoring love!
Looking carefully into the words before us, we will dwell, first, upon
the spirit of heaviness. Secondly, upon the promise implied in the
text–that this shall be removed. And then, thirdly, upon the garment
of praise which is to be bestowed. First, let us muse upon–
I. THE SPIRIT OF HEAVINESS.
We would not make this meditation doleful and yet it may be as well to
set forth the night side of the soul, for thus we may the better show a
sympathetic spirit and come more truly home to those who are in
heaviness through manifold temptations. Some of us know by experience
what the spirit of heaviness means. It comes upon us at times even now.
There are many things in the body. There are many things in the family.
There are many things in daily life which make us sad. Facts connected
with the past and with the future cause us, at times, to hang our
heads. We shall just now dwell upon those former times when we were
under the spirit of heaviness on account of unpardoned sin. We cannot
forget that we were in bondage in a spiritual Egypt. We would awaken
our memories to remember the wormwood and the gall, the place of
dragons and of owls.
Observe that this heaviness is an inward matter and it is usually a
grief which a man tries to keep to himself. It is not that he is sick
in body, though his unbelieving friends fancy that he must surely be
ailing, or he would not seem so melancholy. "He sits alone and keeps
silent," and they say that he has a low fit upon him and they invite
him out into company and try, if they can, to jest him out of his
distress. The fact is that sin is pressing upon him, and well may the
spirit be heavy when it has that awful load to carry! Day and night
God's hand is also heavy upon him and well may his spirit be loaded
down. Conviction of sin makes us as a cart that is loaded with
sheaves–but it is intensely inward and, therefore, not to be
understood by careless minds. "The heart knows its own bitterness and a
stranger intermeddles not therewith."
1 have known persons who have been the subject of this heaviness most
sedulously endeavor to conceal from others even the slightest
appearance of it. And I cannot say that there has not been some wisdom
in so doing, for ungodly men despise those who tremble at the Word of
God. What do they care about sin? They can sin and rejoice in it as the
swine can roll in the mire and feel itself at home. Those who weep in
secret places because the arrows of the Lord have wounded them, are
shunned by those who forget God, and they need not be sorry for it,
since such company can furnish no balm for their wounds. Mourner, you
are wise to keep your sorrow to yourself as far as the wicked are
concerned, but remember, though perhaps you think not so, there are
hundreds of God's children who know all about your condition, and if
you could be bold enough to open your mind to them and tell them of
your heaviness of spirit, you would be surprised to find how thoroughly
they would sympathize with you and how accurately some of them could
describe the maze through which you are wandering! All are not tender
of heart, but there are Believers who would enter into your experience
and who might, by God's blessing, give you the clue to the labyrinth of
your grief. The Lord comforted Paul by Ananias, and you may be sure
that there is an Ananias for you! If you feel, as many do, that you
could not unburden your soul to your parents or relatives, go to some
other experienced Believers and tell them as far as you can your
painful condition. I know, for I have felt the same, that all hope that
you shall be saved is taken away and that you are utterly
prostrate–but yet THERE IS HOPE!
While this heaviness is inward, notice in the next place that it is
real. Heaviness of spirit is one of the most terribly true of all our
griefs. He who is cheerful and light-hearted too often contemns and
even ridicules him who is sad of soul. He says that he is "nervous,"
calls him "fanciful.. .almost out of his mind," "very excitable..
.quite a monomaniac," and so on. The current idea being that there is
really no need for alarm and that sorrow for sin is mere fanaticism! If
some persons had suffered half an hour of conviction of sin,
themselves, they would look with different eyes upon those who feel the
spirit of heaviness, for I say it, and know what I am saying, that next
to the torment of Hell, itself, there is but one sorrow which is more
severe than that of a broken and a contrite spirit that trembles at
God's Word, but does not dare to suck comfort out of it! The bitterness
of remorse and despair is worse, but yet it is unspeakably
heartbreaking to bow at the Mercy Seat, and to fear that no answer will
ever come–to lie at the feet of Jesus, but to be afraid to look up to
Him for salvation! To be conscious of nothing but abounding sin and
raging unbelief and to expect nothing but sudden destruction–this is
an earthly Tophet! There are worse wounds than those which torture the
flesh, but more cruel pangs arise from the broken bones of the soul
than from those of the body. Sharp is that cut which goes to the very
heart and yet does not kill, but makes men wish that they could die or
cease to be. There is a prison such as no iron bars can make and a
fetter such as no smith can forge. Sickness is a trifle compared to
it–it is to some men less endurable than the rack or the stake. To be
impaled upon your own sins, pilloried by your own conscience, shot at
by your own judgment as with barbed arrows–this is anguish and
torment!
This heaviness of spirit puts a weight upon the man's activity and
clogs him in all things. He is weighted heavily who bears the weight of
sin. You put before him the precious Promises, but he does not
understand them, for the heaviness presses upon his mental faculties.
You assure him that these Promises are meant for him, but he cannot
believe you, for heaviness of spirit palsies the grasping hand by which
he might appropriate the blessing. "Their soul abhors all manner of
meat, and they draw near to the gates of death." Troubled minds at
times lose all their appetite. They need spiritual food and yet turn
from it. The most wholesome meat of the Gospel they are afraid to feed
upon, for their sadness makes them fearful of presumption. Heaviness
brings on amazement and this is but another word for saying that the
mind is in a maze and cannot find its way out.
They are weighted as to their understanding and their faith, for "the
spirit of heaviness" also presses there. Their memory, too, is quick
enough at recollecting sin, but to anything that might minister
comfort, it is strangely weak, even as Jeremiah said, "You have removed
my soul far off from peace: I forget prosperity." Indeed, David was
still more oblivious, for he says, "My heart is smitten and withered
like grass, so that I forget to eat my bread." All the faculties become
dull and inert, and the man is like one in a deadly swoon. I have heard
persons, under conviction of sin, say, "I seem absolutely stupid about
Divine things." Like one that is stunned by a severe blow, they fall
down and scarcely know what they feel or do not feel. Were they in
their clear senses, we could set the Gospel before them and point out
the way of salvation and they would soon lay hold of it! But, alas,
they seem to have no capacity to understand the Promise, or to grasp
its consolation.
Now, this heaviness of spirit also renders everything around the man
heavy. The external is generally painted from within. A merry heart
makes mirth in the dull November fog under a leaden sky, but a dull
heart finds sorrow amidst May blossoms, and June flowers. A man colors
the world he lives in to the tint of his own soul. "Things are not what
they seem," yet what they seem has often more influence upon us than
what they are! Find a man, then, with heaviness of spirit, and you will
find that his sorrows appear to be greater than he can bear. The
common-place worries of life which cheerfulness sports with, are a load
to a sad heart–yes, the grasshopper is a burden! The ordinary duties
of life become a weariness and slight domestic cares a torture. He
trembles lest he should commit sin even in going in and out of his
house. A man who bears the weight of sin has small strength for any
other load. Even the joys of life become somber. It matters not how
much God has blessed a man in his family, in his basket, or in his
store, for as long as his heart is oppressed and his soul bowed down
with sin, what are the bursting barns and what are the overflowing wine
vats to him? He pines for a peace and rest which these things cannot
yield. If the eyes are dark, the sun, itself, affords no light!
There is one thing, however, which we would say to mourners pressed
down with guilt–whatever heaviness you feel, it is no greater
heaviness than sin ought to bring upon a man, for it is an awful thing
to have sinned against God. If the sense of sin should drive you to
distraction–and cavilers often say that religion does this–it might
reasonably do so if there were no other matters to think upon–no
forgiving love and atoning blood. That which is the result of sin ought
not to be charged upon religion, but true religion should be praised,
because it brings relief to all this woe! Sin is the
most horrible thing in the universe–and when a man sees how foully he
has transgressed–it is no wonder that he is greatly troubled. To think
that I, a creature that God has made, which He could crush as easily as
a moth, have dared to live in enmity to Him for many years, and have
even become so hardened as to forget Him and perhaps defy Him! This is
terrible! When I have been told of His great love, I have turned on my
heels and rejected it. Yes, and when I have even seenthat love in the
bleeding body of His dear Son, I have been unbelieving and have done
despite even to boundless Grace, and gone from bad to worse, greedy
after sin! Is it marvelous that when they have seen the guilt of all
this, men have felt their moisture turned into the drought of summer
and cried in desperation, "My soul chooses strangling rather than
life"? However low you are, beloved Mourner, you are not exaggerating
your guilt! Apart from the Grace of God, your case is, indeed, as
hopeless as you suppose. Though you lie in the very dust and dare not
look up, the position is not lower than you ought to take. You richly
deserve the anger of God and when you have some sense of what that
wrath must be, you are not more fearful of it than there is just need
to be, for it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living
God. "He touches the hills and they smoke."–
"The pillars of Heaven's starry roof Tremble and start at His reproof."
What will His wrath be when He puts on His robes of justice and comes
forth to mete out justice to the rebellious? O God, how terrible is
Your wrath! Well may we be crushed at the very thought of it!
Another reflection we would suggest here and that is, that if you have
great heaviness of spirit on account of sin, you are by no means alone
in it, for some of the best servants of God have endured hard
struggling before they have found peace with God. Read their
biographies and you will find that even those who have really believed
in Christ have at some time or other felt the burden of sin pressing
with intolerable weight upon their souls. Certain of them have recorded
their experience in terrible sentences, but others have felt what they
have not dared to commit to writing. "Weeping Cross," as the old
writers call it, is a much-frequented spot–many roads meet at that
point, and most pilgrims have left a pool of tears there.
There is this to be added. Your Lord and Master, He to whom you must
look for hope, knew what heaviness meant on account of sin. He had no
sin of His own, but He bore the iniquity of His people and, therefore,
He was prostrate in Gethsemane. We read that "He began to be sorrowful
and to be very heavy." The spirit of heaviness was upon Him and He
sweat, as it were, great drops of blood falling to the ground! This
same heaviness made Him cry upon the Cross, "My God, My God, why have
You forsaken Me?" Jesus was sorely amazed and very heavy–and it is to
Him as passing through that awful heaviness that I would bid you look
in your hour of terror, for He alone is your door of hope. Through His
heaviness, yours shall be removed, for "the chastisement of our peace
was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed." So much, then,
concerning heaviness of spirit. And now, secondly, let us–
II. SEE THE HEAVINESS REMOVED, for of this the text contains a Divine
Promise–the anointed Savior will take it away. Only a word or two upon
this.
Brothers and Sisters, do you enquire how Jesus removes the spirit of
heaviness? We answer, He does it thus–by revealing to us with
clearness and certainty that our sin is pardoned. The Holy Spirit
brings us to trust in Christ and the Inspired Word assures us that
Christ suffered in the place of all Believers and, therefore, we
perceive that He died for us. And also that nothing remains for us to
suffer because sin, having been laid upon the Substitute, it is no more
upon us. We rejoice in the fact of our Lord's Substitution and the
transfer of our sins to Him. We see that if He stood in our place, we
stand in His–and if He was rejected, we are "accepted i n the
Beloved." Then straight away this spirit of heaviness disappears
because the reason for it is gone–
"I will praise You every day! Now Your anger's turned away, Comfortable
thoughts arise From the bleeding Sacrifice."
Moreover, in the new birth the Holy Spirit infuses into us a new
nature–and that new nature knows not the spirit of heaviness–it is a
thing of light, and life, and joy in the Holy Spirit! The newborn
nature looks up and perceives its kinship with God. It rejoices in the
favor of the Holy One from whom it came. It rests in the Lord, yes, it
joys and rejoices in Him! And whereas, the old sin-spirit still sinks
us down according to its power, there still being in us the evil heart
of unbelief, this new life wells up within us as a living fountain of
crystal and buoys us up with the peace and joy which comes of the Holy
Spirit's indwelling! Thus the inner life becomes a constant remedy for
heaviness of spirit.
And faith, too, that blessed gift of God, wherever it resides, works to
the clearing away of heaviness, for faith sings, "All things are mine,
why should I sorrow? All my sin is gone, why should I pine and moan?
All things as to the present life are supplied me by the God of
Providence and Grace–and the future is guaranteed to me by the
Covenant ordered in all things and sure." Faith takes the telescope and
looks beyond the narrow range of time into the eternal heavens, and
sees a crown laid up for the faithful. Yes, and her ears are opened so
that she hears the songs of the redeemed by blood before the Throne of
God–thus she bears away the spirit of heaviness! If I see no joy with
these poor optics, faith has other eyes with which she discovers rivers
of delight! If flesh and blood afford me nothing but causes for dismay,
faith knows more and sees more–and she perceives causes for
overflowing gratitude and delight! Hope also enters with her silver
light, borrowed from faithful promises. She expects the future glory,
at which we hinted just now, and begins to anticipate it all. And so,
again, she drives away the gloom of the heart. Love, also, the sweetest
of the three, comes in and teaches us to be resigned to the will of God
and then sweetly charms us into acquiescence with all the Divine
Purposes. And when we reach that point, and so love God that whatever
He may do with us, we are resolved to trust Him and praise His name,
then the spirit of heaviness must vanish!
Now, beloved Mourners, I trust you know what this great uplifting
means. It is a work in which the Lord is greatly glorified when He
raises a poor, begrimed soul out of the sordid potsherds among which it
has lain, and gives it to soar aloft as on the silver wings of a dove!
Some of us can never forget the hour of our great deliverance–it was
the day of our espousals, the time of love–and it must forever remain
as the beginning of days unto us. All glory be to Him who has loosed
our bonds and set our feet in a large room! But now we come to the
third and most prominent point of the text, which is–
III. THE GARMENT OF PRAISE BESTOWED, which takes the place of the
spirit of heaviness. We suppose this may mean, and probably does mean,
that the Lord gives us a garment that is honorable and worthy of
praise–and what is this garment but the righteousness of our Lord
Jesus Christ? The Lord arrays His poor people in a robe which causes
them to be no more worthy of shame, but fit to be praised. They become
unblameable in His sight. What a blessing this is! Did not the father,
when he received the prodigal, say, "Bring forth the best robe and put
it on him"? That was a praiseful garment, instead of the spirit of
heaviness–and whenever a child of God begins to perceive his adoption
and to say, "Abba, Father," then He puts on a fit garment for a child
to wear, an honorable dress, a garment of praise! When we realize that
Christ has made us priests unto God and we, therefore, put on the
priestly garment of sanctification by beginning to offer the sacrifice
of prayer and praise, then, again, we wear a praiseful garment! When we
exercise the high prerogative of kings, for we are kings as well as
priests, then, again, we wear not a sordid vesture of dishonor, nor the
costume of a prison, nor the rags of beggary, nor the black robe of
condemnation, but a garment of honor and of praise! Every child of God
should be clothed with the garments of salvation–his Savior has
prepared them for this end–let him wrap them about him and be glad,
for these garments make him beautiful in the sight of God!
But I choose, rather, to follow the exact words of our version tonight
and speak of the garment of praise as meaning gratitude, thanksgiving,
and adoration. The anointed Comforter takes away the spirit of
heaviness and He robes His people in the garment of praise.
Now, this is something outward as well as inward. A wise man endeavors
to hide the heaviness of his spirit, but when the Lord takes that away,
he does not wish to conceal his gratitude. I could not help telling
those I lived with, when I found the Lord! Master John Bunyan informs
us that he was so anxious to let someone know of his conversion that he
wanted to tell the crows on the plowed land all about it! I do not
wonder. It is a piece of news which it would be hard to withhold.
Whenever a man's inward heaviness is graciously removed, he puts on the
outward manifestation of joy and walks abroad in the silken robes of
praise!
As we have already said, a garment is a thing which covers a man, so
when a man learns to thank God aright, His praise covers him–he,
himself, is hidden while he gives all the glory to God. The man is seen
as clothed in praise from head to foot. Many persons very unfairly
judge Christians when they begin to speak of the love and mercy of God
to them, for they cry out that they are egotistical–but how can it be
egotistical to talk of what the Lord has done for you? If you speak
with any sort of confidence, captious individuals say that you are
presumptuous. How can it be presumptuous to believe what God, Himself,
declares? It is presumptuous to doubtwhat God says, but it is not
presumption to believe God! Neither is it egotism to state the truth.
If I were to say that God has not blessed me abundantly, the pulpit on
which I stand would cry out against me! Shall I conceal the mercy of
God as if it were stolen goods? Never! But rather
I will speak the more boldly of the measureless love which has kept my
soul from going down to the pit! "He that glories, let him glory in the
Lord." Bless the Lord, O you saints of His, and give thanks to His holy
name. Show forth His salvation, compel men to see it, gird it about
your loins and wear it for your adorning in all companies! While
speaking of this garment of praise, let us enquire of what it is made.
Is not praise composed in a large measure of an attentive observation
of God's mercy?Thousands of blessings come to us without our knowledge.
We take them in at the back door, and put them away in the cellar. Now,
praise takes note of them, preserves the invoice of favors received and
records the goodness of the Lord. O Friends, if you do this, you will
never be short of reasons for praise!. He who notices God's mercy will
never be without a mercy to notice. This is the chief material of the
garment of praise–attentive consideration of Divine Grace is the
broadcloth out of which the garment of praise is made.
The next thing is grateful memory. Very much that God does for us we
bury alive in the grave of oblivion. We receive His mercies as if they
were common trash. They are no sooner come than they are gone, and the
proverb truthfully says, "Bread eaten is soon forgotten." Why, my
Brothers and Sisters, the Lord may give you a thousand favors and you
will not praise Him. But if He smites you with one little stroke of the
whip, you grumble at Him! You write His mercies on the water and your
own trials you engrave on granite! These things ought not to be.
Maintain the memory of His great goodness. "Forget not all His
benefits." Call to remembrance your song in the night and remember the
loving kindnesses of the Lord. In this, also, we find rich material for
the garment of praise.
We are further aided by rightly estimating mercy. Is it not a great
mercy to be alive and not in Hell? To be in your senses and not in the
lunatic asylum? To be in health and not in the hospital? To be in one's
own room, and not in the workhouse? These are great favors, and yet,
perhaps, we seldom thank God for them! Then count up your spiritual
mercies, if you can. Remember, on the other hand, what you deserved,
and what it cost the Savior to bring these blessings to you–how
patient the Lord has been with your refusal of His love and how
continuously He has loaded you with benefits! Weigh His mercies, as
well as count them, and they will help you to put on the garment of
praise.
It is the telling out of the Divine goodness which largely constitutes
praise–to observe, to remember, to estimate, to prize and then to
speak of the Lord's gracious gifts–all these are essential. Praise is
the open declaration of the gratitude which is felt within. How greatly
do many fail in this! If you visit them, how readily they enlarge upon
their troubles–in five minutes they have informed you about the damp
weather, their aching bones and their low wages. Others speak of the
bad times and the decline of trade till you know their ditty by heart!
Is this the manner of the people of God? Should we not entertain our
visitors with something better than the bones of our meat and the hard
crusts of our bread? Let us set before them good tidings and cheerfully
tell of the Divine goodness to us, lest they should go away under the
impression that we serve a hard master. It would create an almost
miraculous change in some people's lives if they made a point of
speaking most of the precious things and least of the worries and ills!
Why always the poverty? Why always the pains? Why always the dying
child? Why always the husband's small wages? Why always the unkindness
of a friend? Why not sometimes–yes, why not always–the mercies of the
Lord? That is praise and it is to be our everyday garment, the livery
of every servant of Christ!
Let us enquire, too, who ought to wear this garment? The answer may be
suggested by another–whom does it fit? Truly there is a garment of
praise which exactly suits me and I mean to wear it. It is so capacious
that some of my Brothers and Sisters would wonder if they could see it
spread out. I am so much in debt to my God that, do what I will, I can
never give a fair acknowledgment of it. I freely confess that I owe Him
more than any man living and am morally bound to praise Him more
earnestly than anyone else! Did I hear some of you claiming to be equal
debtors? Do you demand to be allowed to praise Him more than I? Well, I
will not quarrel with you. Let the matter stand and if you will excel
me, I will praise my Lord for it. I once, in preaching, remarked that
if I once entered Heaven, I would take the lowest place, feeling that I
owe more to God's Grace than anybody else, but I found, when I left the
pulpit, that I had several competitors who would not yield the lowest
place to me! They were, each one, ready to exclaim–
"Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing, While Heaven's resounding
mansions ring With shouts of Sovereign Grace!" Blessed be God, this is
the only contention among the birds of Paradise–who owes the most, who
shall love the best, who shall lie lowest and who shall extol their
Lord the most zealously! Charming rivalry of humility! Let us have more
of it below. I again say there is a garment of praise that fits me.
Brother, Sister, is there not one which fits you, ex-
actly suiting your state and condition? If you are an heir of Heaven,
there is–there must be a garment of praise which will rest most
becomingly upon your shoulders–and you should put it on at once.
Then, when shall we wear it? We should certainly appear in it on high
days and holidays. On Sabbath days and communion seasons the hours are
fragrant with grateful memories. I heard of someone who did not attend
public worship because his clothes were not fit to come in, and I
replied, What can he mean? Does the Lord care for our outward dress?
Let him put on the garment of praise, and he may come and welcome! The
outer vestments matter little, indeed! All garments of that sort are
only proofs of our fall, and of the need to hide our nakedness for very
shame. Fine dress is unbecoming in the House of God, especially for
those who call themselves "miserable sinners." The best adornment is
humility of spirit, the robe of thanksgiving, the garment of praise!
The Lord's-Day should always be the happiest day of the week, and the
communion should be a little Heaven to our souls. "Call the Sabbath a
delight, the holy of the Lord, honorable."
We should wear the garment of praise on the most commonplace of days.
It should be the peasant's frock and the merchant's coat, the lady's
dress and the servant's gown–it is the best for wear, for comfort, for
beauty and it never gets out of fashion. I once knew an old saint, a
Methodist, a very quaint, original, rustic old man, who was celebrated
for happiness. When he went out to day labor early in the morning, he
was always singing as he went along the road. The country people used
to call it "tooting to himself." Quietly he hummed a bit of a hymn
wherever he was. When he used his spade or his hoe, he worked to the
music of his heart and never murmured when in poverty, or became angry
when held up to ridicule. I wish we were all as spiritually minded and
as full of praise as he! Bless the Lord! Bless the Lord! When should we
notbless Him? We will praise Him when our beds refresh us–blessed is
He who kept the night watches. When we put on our clothes in the
morning, we will bless His name for giving us food and raiment. When we
sit down to break our fast, we will bless the love which has provided a
table for us. When we go forth to our work, we will bless the Lord who
gives us strength to labor. If we must lie at home sorely sick, with
fierce pain or slow decay, let us praise Him who heals and sanctifies
all our diseases! Let us endeavor to display the sweet spirit of
thankfulness from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same.
Every moment may suggest a new verse of our life Psalm and cause us to
magnify Him whose mercy endures forever!
Now, lastly, why should we wear the garment of praise? We should wear
it as we wear other raiment, to keep us warm and comfortable, for there
is no such vesture in the world as that of praise! It warms the inmost
heart and sends a glow through the whole man. You may go to Nova Zembla
and not freeze in such a robe! In the worst cases and in the most
sorrowful plights, be you where you may, you are proof against outward
circumstances when your whole being is enwrapped in praise! Wear it
because it will comfort you. Wear it also because it will distinguish
you from others. It will be livery to you and men will know whose
servants you are. It will be a regimental dress and show to which army
you belong. It will be a court dress and manifest to what dignity you
have attained. So arrayed, you will bear the tokens of your Lord who
often, in the days of His sorrow, lifted His eyes and heart to Heaven
and thanked the great Father for His goodness!
May some poor burdened soul lose its heaviness while thinking over our
text, and henceforth wear this kingly robe–the garment of praise!
Amen.