A Sermon For Spring

A Sermon For Spring
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 23, 1862, BY REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"My Beloved spoke and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one and
come way. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the
flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come
and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree puts
forth her green figs and the vines with the tender grape give a good
smell. Arise, my love, my fair one and come away." Song of Solomon
2:10-13.
THE things which are seen are types of the things which are not seen.
The works of creation are pictures to the children of God of the secret
mysteries of Divine Grace. God's Truths are the apples of gold and the
visible creatures are the baskets of silver. The very seasons of the
year find their parallel in the little world of man within. We have our
winter– dreary howling winter–when the north wind of the Law rushes
forth against us, when every hope is nipped, when all the seeds of joy
lie buried beneath the dark clods of despair, when our soul is fast
fettered like a river bound with ice, without waves ofjoy, or flowings
of thanksgiving.
Thanks be unto God, the soft south wind breathes upon our soul and at
once the waters of desire are set free, the spring of love comes on,
flowers of hope appear in our hearts, the trees of faith put forth
their young shoots, the tone of the singing of birds comes in our
hearts, and we have joy and peace in believing through the Lord Jesus
Christ. That happy springtide is followed in the Believer by a rich
summer, when his Graces, like fragrant flowers, are in full bloom,
loading the air with perfume. And fruits of the Spirit like citrons and
pomegranates swell into their full proportion in the genial warmth of
the Sun of Righteousness.
Then comes the Believer's autumn, when his fruits grow ripe and his
fields are ready for the harvest. The time has come when his Lord shall
gather together his "pleasant fruits," and store them in Heaven. The
feast of ingathering is at hand–the time when the year shall begin
anew, an unchanging year, like the years of the right hand of the Most
High in Heaven. Now, Beloved, each particular season has its duty. The
husbandman finds that there is a time to plow, a time to sow, a time to
reap. There is a season for vintage and a period for the pruning of the
vine. There is a month for the planting of herbs and for the
ingathering of seeds.
To everything there is a time and a purpose, and every season has its
special labor. It seems, from the text, that whenever it is springtide
in our hearts, then Christ's voice may be heard saying, "Arise, My
love, My fair one and come away." Whenever we have been delivered from
a dreary winter of temptation or affliction, or tribulation–whenever
the fair spring of hope comes upon us and our joys begin to multiply,
then we should hear the Master bidding us seek after something higher
and better. And we should go forth in His strength to love Him more and
serve Him more diligently than ever before.
This I take to be the Truth of God taught in the text, and it shall be
the subject of this morning's discourse. And to any with whom the time
of the singing of birds is come, in whom the flowers appear–to any
such I hope the Master may speak till their souls shall say, "My
Beloved spoke and said unto me, rise up, My love, My fair one and come
away." I shall use the general principle in illustration of four or
five different cases.
I. First, with regard to THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH OF CHRIST. In looking
upon her history, with only half an eye, you can plainly perceive that
she has had her ebbs and flows. Often it seemed as if her tide
retired–ungodliness, heresy, error prevailed. But she has had her
flood tide when once again the glorious waves have rolled in, covering
with their triumphant righteousness the sands of ignorance and evil.
The history of Christ's Church is a varied year of many seasons. She
has had her high and noble processions of victory. She has had her
sorrowful congregations of mourners during times of disaster and
apparent defeat.
Commencing with the life of Christ, what a smiling spring it was for
the world when the Holy Spirit was poured out in Pentecost. Then might
the saints sing with sweet accord–
"The Jewish wintry state is gone, The mists are fled, the spring comes
on. The sacred turtle dove we hear, Proclaim the new, the joyful year.
The immortal vine of heavenly root, Blossoms and buds and gives her
fruit; Lo, we are come to taste the wine, Our souls rejoice and bless
the vine." The winter was over and past–that long season in which the
Jewish state lay dead, when the frosts of Phariseeism had bound up all
spiritual life. The rain was over and gone, the black clouds of wrath
had emptied themselves upon the Savior's head. Thunder and tempest and
storm–all dark and terrible things–were gone forever.
The flowers appeared on the earth–three thousand in one day blossomed
forth, baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Fair promises
created for beauty and delight sprang up and with their blessed
fulfillment, clothed the earth in a royal garment of many colors. The
time of the singing birds was come, for they praised God day and night,
eating their bread with joy and singleness of heart. The voice of the
turtle was heard, for the Spirit–that hallowed dove from
Heaven–descended with tongues of fire upon the Apostles and the Gospel
was preached in every land.
Then had earth one of her joyous Sabbaths. The fig tree put forth her
green figs. In every land there were some converts. The dwellers in
Mesopotamia, Medes, Parthians, Elamites–some of all–were converted to
God, and the tender grapes of newborn piety and zeal gave forth a sweet
smell before God. Then it was that Christ spoke in words which made the
heart of His Church burn like coals of juniper–My Fellow, My Friend,
My Beautiful, arise and come your way."
The bride arose, charmed by the heavenly voice of her Spouse. She girt
on her beautiful garments and for some hundred years or more, she did
come away. She came away from her narrowness of spirit and she preached
to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ–she came away from
her attachment to the State and she dared to confess that Christ's
kingdom was not of this world. She came away from her earthly hopes and
comforts, for, "they counted not their lives dear unto them that they
might win Christ and be found in Him."
She came away from all ease and rest of body, for they labored more and
more abundantly, making herself sacrifices for Christ. Her Apostles
landed on every shore. Her confessors were found among people of every
tongue. Her martyrs kindled a light in the midst of lands afflicted
with the midnight of heathen darkness. No place trod by foot of man was
left unvisited by the heralds of God, the heroic sons of the Church.
"Go forth into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature,"
was ringing in their ears like a clarion sounding the war charge. And
they obeyed it like soldiers who had been men of war from their youth.
Those were brave days of old, when with a word, the saints of God could
overcome a thousand foes–that word the faithful promise of a gracious
God. Alas, alas, that season passed away! The Church grew dull and
sleepy. She left her Lord. She turned aside. She leaned upon an arm of
flesh, courting the endowments of earthly kingdoms. Then there came a
long and dreary winter, the dark ages of the world, the darker ages of
the Church. At last the time of love returned, when God again visited
His people and raised up for them new Apostles, new martyrs, new
confessors.
Switzerland, France, Germany, Bohemia, the Low Countries, England, and
Scotland had all their men of God who spoke with tongues as the Spirit
gave them utterance. The time of Luther and Calvin and Melancthon and
of Knox was come–Heaven's sunny days–when once again the frost should
give way to approaching summer. Then it was that men could say once
again, "The winter is passed, priest-craft has lost its power, the rain
is over and gone. False doctrines shall no more be as tempests to the
Church. The flowers appear on the earth–little Churches–plants of
God's right hand planting, are springing up everywhere."
The time of the singing of birds was come. Luther's hymns were sung by
plowmen in every field. The Psalms translated were scattered among all
people–carried on the wings of angels, and the Church sang aloud unto
God, her strength–and entered into His courts with the voice of
thanksgiving, in such sort as she had not hoped for during her long and
weary winter's night. In every cottage and under every roof, from the
peasant's hut, to the prince's palace, the singing of birds was come.
Then peace came to the people and joy in the Lord, for the voice of the
turtle was heard delighting hill and valley, grove and field, with the
love-notes of Gospel Grace.
Then fruits of righteousness were brought forth, the Church was "an
orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits," camphire with
spikenard, spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees
of frankincense. Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices. And a
sweet savor of faith and love went up to Heaven and God rejoiced
therein. Then the Master sweetly cried–
"Rise up, My love, My fair one; come away, Soar on the wings of your
victorious faith Above the realms of darkness and sin!"
But she did not hear the voice, or she heard it but partially. Satan
and his wiles prevailed. The little foxes spoiled the vines and
devoured the tender grapes. Corruption, like a strong man armed, held
the spouse and she came not forth at her Beloved's call. In England she
would not come away–she hugged the arm of flesh. She laid hold upon
the protection of the State–she would not venture upon the bare
promise of her Lord. O that she had left dignities, and endowments, and
laws to worldly corporations–and had rested on her Husband's love
alone!
Alas for our divisions at this time! What are they but the bitter
result of the departure of our fathers from the chastity of simple
dependence such as Jesus loves? In other lands she confined herself too
much within her own limits, sent forth few missionaries, labored not
for the conversion of the outcasts of Israel. She would not come away,
and so the Reformation never took place. It commenced, but it
ceased–and the Churches, many of them–remain to this day half
reformed, in a transition state, somewhere between truth and error.
As the Lutheran Church and the Established Church of England at the
present day–too good to be rejected, too evil to be wholly received.
Having such a savor of godliness that they are Christ's but having such
a mixture of Popery that their garments are not clean. Oh, would to God
that the Church could then have heard her Master's voice, "Rise up My
love, My fair one and come away."
And now, Brethren, in these days we have had another season of
refreshing. God has been pleased to pour out His Spirit upon men again.
Perhaps the late revivals have almost rivaled Pentecost–certainly in
the number of souls ingath-ered they may bear rigid comparison with
that feast of first fruits. I suppose that in the north of Ireland, in
Wales, in America, and in many parts of our own country, there have
been worked more conversions than took place at the descent of the Holy
Spirit. The Lord's people are alive, and in earnest, and all our
agencies are quickened with new energy.
The time of the singing of birds is come, though there are some harsh,
croaking ravens still left. The flowers appear on the earth, though
much unmelted snow still covers the pastures. Thank God, the winter is
over and passed to a great extent, though there are some pulpits and
Churches as frost-bound as ever. We thank God that the rain is over and
gone, though there are still some who laugh at the people of God and
would destroy all true doctrine. We live in happier days than those
which have passed. We may speak of these times as the good old times
wherein time is older than ever it was and, I think, better than it has
been for many a day.
And what now? Why, Jesus says, "Rise up My love, My fair one and come
away." To each denomination of His Church He sends this message, "Come
away." He seems to speak to Episcopacy and say, "Come away. Cut out of
the liturgy that which is not according to My mind, leave the State, be
free." He speaks to the Calvinist and says, "Come away–be no more dead
and cold as you have been. Let not your sons hold the Truth of God in
unrighteousness." He speaks to each denomination according to its need,
but to the same command, "Rise up and come away. Leave deadness, and
coldness, and wrong-doing, and hardness, and harshness, and bitterness
of spirit. Leave idleness, and slothfulness and lukewarmness–rise up
and come away.
"Come away to preach the Gospel among the heathen. Come away to reform
the masses of this wicked city. Come away from your little heartedness,
from your coldness of spirit. Come away–the land is before you–go up
and possess it." Come away, your Master waits to aid you–strike! He
will strike with you. Build! He will be the great master Builder–plow!
He Himself shall break the clods! Arise and thresh the mountains, for
He shall make you a sharp threshing instrument, having ties, and the
mountains shall be beaten small until the wind shall scatter them like
chaff, and you shall rejoice in the Lord. Rise up, people of God, in
this season of revival and come away! Why do you sleep? Arise and pray,
lest you enter into temptation.
II. Methinks the text has a very SPECIAL VOICE TO US AS A CHURCH. We
must use the Scripture widely but yet personally. While we know its
reference to the universal Church, we must not forget its special
application to ourselves. We, too, have had a season of refreshing from
the presence of the Lord. The day was with this Church in the olden
times, when we were diminished and brought low through oppression,
affliction, and sorrow.
We could not meet more than twenty in a place and sometimes not more
than five, without fine and persecution. Then the Church had its
elders, who could meet the few in private houses–and cheer their
hearts, bidding them abide in patience, waiting till better times might
come. Then God sent them a pastor after his own heart, Benjamin Rider,
who fed them with knowledge and understanding, and gathered together
the scattered sheep during the times of peace.
Then there followed him a man worthy to be pastor of this Church–one
who had sat in the stocks at Aylesbury, had seen his books burned by
the common hangman before his face, and who counted not even his life
dear unto him that he might win Christ. That man was Benjamin Keach,
the opener of the parables and expositor of metaphors. On old
Horselydown, then a great common, a large house was built where he
preached the Word and his hearers were very many.
The flowers then appeared on the earth and the time of the singing of
birds was come to this Church. He passed away and slept with his
fathers and was followed by Dr. Gill, the laborious commentator. And
for some time during his sound and solid ministry it was a good and
profitable season, and the Church was multiplied and built up. But
again, even under his ministry the ranks were thinned and the host grew
small. There was doctrine in perfection but more power from on High was
needed.
After a space of fifty years or more of Dr. Gill's ministry, God sent
Dr. Rippon and once more the flowers appeared upon the earth, and the
Church multiplied exceedingly, bringing forth fruit unto God. And out
of her there went many preachers who testified of the Truth of God that
was in Jesus and were the parents of Churches which still flourish.
Then the good old man, full of years and of good works, was carried to
his Home–and there came others who taught the Church and ingathered
many souls–but they were not to the full extent successors of the men
who went before them, for they tarried but a little season.
They did much good, but were not such builders as those were who had
gone before. Then came a time of utter dead-ness. The officers mourned.
There was strife and division. There became empty pews where once there
had been full congregations. They looked about them to find one who
might fill the place and bring together the scattered multitude. But
they looked, and looked in vain, and despondency and despair fell upon
some hearts with regard to this Church. But the Lord had mercy on them
and in a very short space, through His Providence and Grace, the winter
was passed and the rain was over and gone.
The time of singing of birds was come again. There were multitudes to
sing God's praises. The voice of the turtle was heard in our land. All
was peace and unity and affection and love. Then came the first ripe
fruits. Many were added to the Church. Then the vines gave forth a
sweet smell. Converts came, till we have often said, "Who are these
that fly as a cloud and as doves to their windows?" Often has this
Church asked the question, "Who has begotten me these?" And now these
eight years, by God's Grace, we have had a season, not of spasmodic
revival, but of constant progress.
We have had a glad period of abundant increase in which there has been
as many converts as we could receive. Every officer of the Church has
had his hands full in seeing enquirers, and we have only had time to
stop, now and then, and take breath and say, "What has God worked?" The
time came when we erected this house, because no other place was large
enough for us. And still God continues with us, till our Church
meetings are not sufficient for the reception of converts. And we know
not how large a proportion of this assembly are Believers in Christ,
because time fails to hear the cases of conversion.
Well, what ought we to do? I hear the Master saying, "Rise up, My love,
My fair one and come away." I hear Jesus speaking to this Church, and
saying, "Where much is given, there much shall be required." Serve not
the Lord as other Churches, but yet more abundantly. As He has given
you showers of love, so give Him your fertile fields. Let us rejoice
with thanksgiving. Let this Church feel that she ought to be more
dedicated to Christ than others. That her members should be more holy,
loving, living nearer to God. That they should be more devoted, filled
with more zeal, more fervency, doing more for Christ, praying more for
sinners, laboring more for the conversion of the world.
And let us be asking ourselves what can we do, as a Church, that shall
be more than we have ever thought of doing– inasmuch as He feeds us
with the bread of Heaven, multiplies our numbers, keeps us in perfect
concord, and makes us a happy people? Let us be a peculiar people,
zealous for good works, showing forth His glory among the sons of men.
It is a solemn responsibility to rest on any man's mind to be the
pastor of such a Church as this, numbering very nearly two thousand in
Church fellowship.
I suppose such a Baptist Church has never existed before. If we are
found to be cowards in this day of battle, woe unto us! If we are
unfaithful to our charge and trust, woe unto us! If we sleep when we
might do so much, surely will the Master say, "I will take the
candlestick out of its place and quench their light in darkness.
Laodicea is neither cold nor hot but lukewarm, I will spew her out of
my mouth."
And there shall come a dark day for us, with Ichabod on the forefront
of our House of Prayer, and darkness in our souls, and bitterness and
remorse in our spirits, because we served not Christ while we might. I
will cry aloud to you and spare not to admonish and encourage you, my
Brethren and comrades, in the conflict for Truth. Men, Brethren and
fathers. Young men, maidens and mothers in Israel, shall any of us draw
back now? O Lord, after You have so richly blessed us, shall we be
ungrateful and become indifferent towards Your good cause and work?
Who knows but You, O God, have brought us to the kingdom for such a
time as this? Oh, we beseech You, send down Your holy fire on every
heart, and the tongue of flame on every head, that everyone of us may
be missionaries for Christ, earnest teachers of the Truth as it is in
Jesus!
I leave these thoughts with you. You can feel them better than I can
express them. And I can better feel their might than I can make you
feel it. O God! Teach us what our responsibility is, and give us Divine
Grace that we may discharge our duty in Your sight.
III. WHEN THE TIME OF THE BRIDAL OF THE SOUL HAS ARRIVED TO EACH
CONVICTED SINNER,
THEN ALSO THERE ARE SPECIAL DUTIES.
Can you not remember, dearly Beloved, that day of days, that best and
brightest of hours, when first you saw the Lord, lost your burden,
received the roll of promise, rejoiced in full salvation, and went on
your way in peace? My soul can never forget that day. Dying, all but
dead, diseased, pained, chained, scourged, bound in fetters of iron, in
darkness and the shadow of death, Jesus appeared unto me.
My eyes looked to Him. The disease was healed, the pains removed,
chains were snapped, prison doors were opened, darkness gave place to
light. What delight filled my soul! What mirth, what ecstasy, what
sound of music and dancing, what soaring towards Heaven, what height
and depths of ineffable delight! Scarce since then have we known joys
which surpassed the rapture of that first hour.
Oh, do you not remember it, dear Brothers and Sisters? And was it not a
spring time to you? The winter was passed. It had been so long, so
dreary–those months of unanswered prayer, those nights of weeping,
those days of watching. The rain was over and gone. The mutterings of
Sinai's thunders were hushed. The flashings of its lightning were no
more perceived. God was beheld as reconciled unto you. The Law
threatened no vengeance. Justice demanded no punishment.
Then the flowers appeared in our hearts. Hope, love, peace, patience,
sprung up from the sod. The snow drop of pure holiness, the crocus of
golden faith, the daffodil lily of love all decked the garden of the
soul. The time of the singing birds was come, all that is within us
magnified the holy name of our forgiving God. Our soul's exclamation
was–
"I will praise You every day, Now Your anger's turned away; Comfortable
thoughts arise, From the bleeding Sacrifice. Jesus is become at length,
My salvation and my strength; And His praises shall prolong, While I
live my pleasant song." Every meal seemed now to be a sacrament. Our
clothes were vestments. The common utensils of our trade were "holiness
to the Lord." We went out abroad into the world to see everywhere
tokens for good. We went forth with joy and were led forth with praise.
The mountains and the hills broke forth before us into singing, and all
the trees of the fields did clap their hands. It was, indeed, a happy,
a bright, and a glorious season!
Do I speak to some who are passing through that spring-tide now? Young
Convert, young Believer, in the dawn of your piety, Jesus says, "Rise
up, My love, My fair one and come away." He asks you to come out from
the world and make a profession of your faith in Him now–do not put it
off. It is the best time to profess your faith while you are young,
while as yet to you the days come not, nor the days draw near, when you
shall say, "I have no pleasure in them."
Make haste and delay not to keep His commandments. Arise and be
baptized. Come out from among the world, be separate and touch not the
unclean thing. Follow Christ in this perverse generation, that you may
hear Him say at the last, "Of you I am not ashamed, for you were not
ashamed of Me in the day when I was despised and rejected of men." In
this, your early time, dedicate yourselves to God. If you do not draw
up a form and subscribe it with your hand, yet draw it up in your heart
and subscribe it with your soul–"Lord, I am wholly Yours–all I am and
all I have, I would devote to You. You have bought me with Your blood.
Lord, take me into Your service–You have put away all Your wrath and
given my spirit rest. Let me spend myself and be spent–in life and in
death let me be consecrated to You."
Make no reserves. Come altogether away from selfishness–from anything
which would divide your chaste and pure love to Christ–your soul's
Husband. Rise up and come away. In this, the beginning of your
spiritual life, the young dawn of marvelous light, come away from your
old habits. Avoid the very appearance of evil. Come away from old
friendships which may tempt you back to the flesh pots of Egypt. Leave
all these things. Come away to higher flights of spirituality than your
fathers as yet have known. Come away to private communion. Be much
alone in prayer.
Come away–be diligent in the study of God's Word. Come away, shut the
doors of your chamber and talk with your Lord Jesus and have close and
intimate dealing with Him. I know I speak to some young babes in Divine
Grace, beginners in our Israel. Oh, take care that you begin aright by
coming right away from the world, by being strictly obedient to every
Divine command, by making your dedication perfect, complete,
unreserved, sincere, spotless–
"While from your newly-sprouted vines Whose grapes are young and
tender, choice and rich, The fa vor comes forth–Belo ved one, rise!
Rise from this visible engrossing scene, And with affections linked to
things above, Where Christ, your treasure is, be soaring still!" IV.
But in the next place our text deserves to be used in another light. It
may be that you and I have had winters of dark trouble, succeeded by
soft springs of deliverance.
We will not enlarge much on our sorrows, but some of us have been to
the gates of death and, as we thought then, into the very jaws of Hell.
We have had our Gethesmanes, when our souls have been exceedingly
sorrowful–nothing could comfort us, we were like the fool who abhorred
all manner of meat. Nothing came with any consolation to our aching
hearts. At last the Comforter came to us and all our troubles were
dissipated. A new season came, the time of the singing of birds was
once more in our hearts.
We did not chatter any more like the swallow or the crane, but we began
to sing as the nightingale, even with the thorn in our breast. We
learned to mount to Heaven as the lark, singing all the way. The great
temporal affliction which had crushed us was suddenly removed and the
strong temptation of Satan was taken off from us. The deep depression
of spirit which had threatened to drive us to insanity was all of a
sudden lifted and we became elastic in heart and once again as David,
danced before the Ark, singing songs of deliverance!
I address some who this morning are looking back to such seasons. You
have just reached the realm of sunlight, and you can look back upon
long leagues of shadow and cloud through which you have had to march.
The valley of the shadow of death you have just traversed–you can well
remember the horrible pit and the miry clay. We can still hear the
rushing as of the wings and feet of crowded miseries. We can still
remember the terrible shadow of confusion. But we have come through
it–through it all, by God's Grace–the winter is past, the rain is
over and gone, and we can rejoice now in Covenant faithfulness and
renewed loving kindness.
Now we have our assurance back again. And Christ is near us and we have
fellowship with the Father and with His Son, Jesus Christ. Well, then,
what are we to do? Why, the Master says to us, "Rise up and come away."
Now is the time when we should mount up to be nearer to Him. Now that
the day dawns, and the shadows flee away, let us seek our Beloved amid
the beds of spices and by the lilies where He feeds. I would we had
more in the Church–more in this Church, like Madame Guyon, who loved
the Lord as that woman did–who had much forgiven. Or like Mrs. Rowe,
who in England was what Madame Guyon was in France.
Or like Dr. Hawker, or like Samuel Rutherford, who could pant and long
and sigh for nearer fellowship with Christ. If there is ever a season
when we ought to follow hard after the Lord and not be content until we
have embraced Him, it is when we have come up from the wilderness,
leaning upon our Beloved. Then should the chaste virgins sing with
joyous heart concerning Him to whom they are espoused–
"What is this vain, this visionary scene Of mortal things to me? My
thoughts aspire Beyond the narrow bounds of rolling spheres. The world
is crucified and dead to me, And I am dead to all its empty shows. But,
oh, for YOU unbounded wishes warm My panting soul and call forth all
her powers. Whatever can raise desire or give delight, Or with full joy
replenish every wish, Is found in You, You infinite abyss of ecstasy
and life!" Each Believer should be thirsting for God, for the living
God–and longing to put his lip to the Wellhead of eternal life–to
follow the Savior and say, "Oh, that You were as my Brother, that
sucked the breasts of my mother, when I should find You without, I
would kiss you, yes, I should not be despised. I would lead You and
bring You into my mother's house, who would instruct me: I would cause
You to drink of spiced wine of the juice of my pomegranate. His left
hand should be under my head and His right hand should embrace me.
"I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor
awaken my love, until He pleases. Who is this that comes up from the
wilderness, leaning upon her Beloved? I raised you up under the apple
tree: there your mother brought you forth. There she brought you forth
that bore you."
Oh, that the Believer would never be content with having drops and sips
of love, but long for the full feast. O my soul thirsts to drink deep
of that cup which never can be drained and to eat of all the dainties
of that table which boundless love has furnished. I am persuaded that
you and I are content to live on pence when we might live on pounds.
That we eat dry crusts when we might taste the ambrosial meat of
angels. That we are content to wear rags when we might put on kings'
robes. That we go out with tears upon our faces when we might anoint
them with fresh oil.
I am convinced that many a Believer lives in the cottage of doubt when
he might live in the mansion of faith. We are poor starving things when
we might be fed. We are weak when we might be mighty, feeble when we
might be as the giants before God–and all because we will not hear the
Master say, "Rise up My love, My fair one and come away."
Now, Brethren, is the time with you after your season of trouble, to
renew your dedication vow to God. Now, Beloved, you should rise up from
worldliness and come away from sloth, from the love of this world, from
unbelief. What enchants you to make you sit still where you are? What
delights you to make you as you now are? Come away! There is a higher
life! There are better things to live for and better ways of seeking
them. Aspire! Let your high ambition be unsatisfied with what you have
already learned and know. Not as though you had already attained,
either were already perfect.
This one thing do–press forward to the things that are before. Rise,
Soul, greatly Beloved, and enter into your Master's rest. I cannot get
my words this morning as I would have them. But if these lips had
language, I would seek by every motive of gratitude for the mercies you
are enjoying, by every sensation of thankfulness which your heart can
experience for Divine Grace received, to make you now say, "Jesus, I
give myself up to You this day, to be filled with Your love. And I
renounce all other desires but the desire to be used in Your service,
that I may glorify You."
Then, methinks there may go out of this place this morning many young
men, and old men, too. Many youths and maidens, determined to be doing
something for Christ. I well remember preaching a sermon one Sunday
morning which stirred up some Brethren to the midnight meeting movement
and much good was done, by God's Grace. What if some new thought should
pass through some newly quickened spirit and you should think of some
fresh invention for glorifying Christ at this good hour? Is there no
Mary here who has an alabaster box at home unbroken? Will she not today
break it over the Master's head?
Is there no Zaccheus here who will today receive Christ into his house,
constrained by Divine love? Oh, by the darkness that has gone, and by
the brightness that has come, live lovingly towards Christ! Oh, by the
fears that have been hushed, by the pains that have been removed, by
the joy you now experience, and by the delights which He has promised
you, I beseech you, cling to Him and seek to serve Him! Go into the
world to bring in His lost sheep, to look after His hidden ones, to
restore to Him that lost piece of money for which He has lit the candle
and desires you to sweep the house.
O Christian Brothers and Sisters, it is an angel's work I have
attempted now, and mortal lips fail. But I beg you, if there is any
heart of mercy, if there is any consolation in Christ Jesus, "if you
then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where
Christ sits at the right hand of God." Lay not up your treasure upon
earth where thieves break through and steal. But lay up your treasure
in Heaven–for where your treasure is, there shall your heart be also.
If you love my Master, serve Him–if you do not, if you owe Him
nothing, oh, if you owe Him nothing and have had no favor from
Him–then I beg you to seek mercy. But if you have found it. If you
know it–oh, for His love's sake love Him! This dying world needs Your
help, my Lord! This wicked sinful world needs Your aid. Up and be
doing! The battle is raging furiously. Multitudes, multitudes in the
valley of decision! Guards up, and at them! Do you sleep, Sirs? Sleep
when now the shots are flying thick as hail and the foemen are rallying
for the last charge in the world's mighty Armageddon?
Up! For the defiant standard of Hell waves proudly in the breeze. Do
you say you are feeble? He is your strength. Do you say you are few? It
is not by many nor by few that God works. Do you say, "I am obscure?"
God wants not the notoriety and fame of men. Up, men, women, and
children in Christ! Up! Be no more at ease in Zion, but serve God while
it is called today, for the war needs every hand, and the conflict
calls for every heart. And night comes, when no man can fight or work.
V. And now, last of all, the time is coming to us all when we shall die
upon our beds. Oh, long-expected day, hasten and come! The best thing a
Christian can do is to die and be with Christ which is far better.
Well, when we shall lie upon our deathbeds, panting out our life, we
shall remember that then the winter is past forever. No more of this
world's trials and troubles. "The rain is over and gone." No more
stormy doubts, no more dark days of affliction. "The flowers appear on
the earth." Christ is giving to the dying saints some of the foretastes
of Heaven. The angels are throwing over the walls some of the flowers
of Paradise. We have come to the land Beulah. We sit down in beds of
spices and can almost see the Celestial City on the hilltops, on the
other side of the narrow stream of death.
"The time of the singing of the birds is come." Angelic songs are heard
in the sick chamber. The heart sings, too, and midnight melodies cheer
the quiet entrance of the grave. "Though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for You are with me." Those
are sweet birds which sing in the groves by the side of the river
Jordan. Now it is that "the voice of the turtle is heard in our land."
Calm, peaceful and quiet, the soul rests in the consciousness that
there is no condemnation to him that is in Christ Jesus. Now does "the
fig tree put forth her green figs."
The first fruits of Heaven are plucked and eaten while we are on earth.
Now do the very vines of Heaven give forth a smell that can be
perceived by love. Look forward to your death, you that are Believers
in Christ, with great joy! Expect it as your spring tide of life, the
time when your real summer shall come and your winter shall be over
forever–
"One distant glimpse my eager passion fires! Jesus! To You my longing
soul aspires! When shall I hear Your voice divinely say, Rise up My
love, My fair one come away? Come meet your Savior bright and glorious
Over sin and death and Hell victorious." May God grant that the people
who fear His name may be stirred up this morning, if not by my words,
yet by the Words of my text and by the influences of God's Spirit. And
may you who have never had sweet seasons from the presence of God, seek
Christ and He will be found of you. And by His Grace, may we all meet
in the land where winters of sin and sorrow shall be all unknown. Amen.