A Solemn Embassy
A Sermon
(No. 3497)
Published on Thursday, February 3rd, 1916.
Delivered by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At [5]the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
On Lord's-day Evening, 26th February, 1871.
"Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you
by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God."–2
Corinthians 5:20.
THERE has long been war between man and his Maker. Our federal head,
Adam, threw down the gauntlet in the garden of Eden. The trumpet was
heard to ring through the glades of Paradise, the trumpet which broke
the silence of peace and disturbed the song of praise. From that day
forward until now there has been no truce, no treaty between God and
man by nature. Man has been at variance with God. His heart has been at
enmity towards God. He would not be reconciled to God. Never in the
heart of any natural man, unless divine grace has put it there, has a
desire to re-establish peace been felt or entertained. If any of you
long to be at peace with your Maker, it is because his spirit has made
you long for it. Left to yourselves, you would go from conflict to
conflict, from struggle to struggle, and perpetuate the encounter,
until it ended in your eternal destruction. But though man will not
make terms with God, nor sue for peace at his hands, God shows his
unwillingness any longer to be at war with man. That he anxiously
desires man to be reconciled unto him, he proves by taking the first
step. He, himself, sends his ambassadors. He does not invite them from
the other party–that were grace–but he sends ambassadors, and he
commands those ambassadors to be very earnest, and to plead with men,
to pray them, to beseech them that they would be reconciled to God. I
take this to be a sure pledge that there is love in the heart of God.
Why, at the very announcement of these tidings, the rebellious sinner's
ears should be opened! It were enough to make him say, "I will hearken
diligently; I will hear what God the Lord shall speak, for if it be
true that he takes the first step towards me, and that he is willing to
make up this deadly quarrel, God forbid that I should turn away; I will
even now hear and attend to all that God shall speak to my soul. "May
he bless the message to you, that you may be reconciled to him without
a moment's delay. John Bunyan puts it plainly enough." If a certain
king be besieging a town, and he sends out the herald with a trumpet to
threaten the inhabitants that, if they do not give up the town, he will
hang every man of them, then straightway they come to the walls and
give him back a reviling answer; they swear that they will fight it
out, and will never surrender to such a tyrant. But if he sends an
embassage with a white flag to tell them that, if they will but
surrender and yield to their lawful king, he will pardon every one of
them, even the very vilest of them will relent." Then, saith honest
John, "do they not come trembling over the walls, and throw their gates
wide open to receive their gracious monarch." Would that such a result
might be accomplished to-night! While I speak of the great grace of
this Prince of Peace, who now sends his ambassadors to the rebellious,
may some rebel say, "Then I will be at peace with him; I will hold out
no longer. So irresistible a love as this has dissolved my heart,
resolved my choice, and constrained my allegiance."
Well now, let us speak awhile of the Ambassadors–the Commission with
which they are entrusted–the duty they have to discharge–and close
with a question–What then? First, then, we have to speak of:–
I. THE AMBASSADORS.
Welcome messengers are they! All nations, with one accord, have agreed
to honour ambassadors. Strange, then, that all nations and all people
should have conspired to dishonour the ambassadors of God! Which of
God's ambassadors in the olden time was not persecuted, rejected, or
slain? Were they not stoned, beheaded, sawn asunder? How continually
they were maltreated, and made to wander about in sheep-skins and
goat-skins, though of them the world was not worthy! But there have
been some men to whom the ambassadors of God have always been welcome.
The men whom God had ordained to eternal life. Those on whose behalf,
from before all worlds, he had made an effectual covenant of peace.
From them the ambassadors get a hearty welcome. Standing here to preach
as an ambassador, I shall get but little attention from some of my
audience. The proclamation of mercy will sound commonplace to many.
They will turn on their heel and say, "There is nothing in it." But
mark you, the ambassador of God will be very welcome to some of you,
who have bitterly felt your estrangement, to some whose hearts are
prepared by a sense of ruin for the good tidings of redemption; to some
in whom the secret mystery of predestination begins to work by the
overt energy of effectual calling. These shall find their souls greatly
but surely drawn to the proclamation of mercy that shall be made, and
they will say, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of them
that bring glad tidings of peace, that publish salvation!"
Ambassadors are always specially welcome to a people who are engaged in
a war which is beyond their strength, when their resources are
exhausted, and the peril of defeat is imminent. If some tiny little
principality has ventured to rebel against a great empire, when it is
absolutely certain that its villages will be consumed, its provinces,
ravaged, and that all its power will be crushed, ambassadors are pretty
sure to receive a cordial welcome. Ah! man, thou best bid defiance to
the King of Heaven, whose power is irresistible; by whom rocks are
thrown down; whose voice breaketh the cedars of Lebanon; whose hand
controlleth the great deep sea. He it, is who bindeth the clouds with a
cord, and girdleth the earth with a belt! Angels that excel in strength
cannot stand against him. From the lofty battlements of heaven he
hurled down Satan, the great archangel, and the mighty host of
rebellious morning stars! How canst thou stand against him; shall the
stubble contend with the fire? Shall the potter's vessel resist the rod
of iron? What art thou but a moth, easily crushed beneath his finger!
The breath is in thy nostrils, and that is not thine own; how then
canst thou, poor mortal, contend with him who only hath immortality?
With art thou but a moth, easily crushed beneath his finger! Thy breath
broken more rapidly than a sear leaf by the wind! How canst thou
venture to be at war with one who has heaven and earth at his command,
who holds the keys of hell and of death, and who has Tophet as his
source of ammunition against thee? Listen to his thunders, and let thy
blood curdle! Let his lightning flash, and how art thou amazed! How,
then, canst thou stand against the greatness of his power, or endure
the terror of his wrath? Happy for thee that terms of peace are
proclaimed in your ears. God is willing to cease the warfare; he would
not have thee be his adversary. Wilt thou not gladly accept what he
proposeth to thee? Never, surely, was war more charged with disaster
than that into which thou hast madly rushed.
An ambassador is always welcome when the people have begun to feel the
victorious force of the king. Yonder province has already yielded.
Certain cities have been taken by the sword and given up to be sacked.
Now the poor miserable inhabitants are glad enough to get peace. They
dread the foot of the conqueror now that they have felt its weight.
Doubtless there are some here present who have known the power of God
in their conscience. Perhaps he has soared you with visions, and
frightened you with dreams. Though it be but the voice of a man that
you heard, yet the law has been very terrible to you, and now you find
no pleasure in your pleasure; no joy in your joys. God has begun to
break your bones with conviction; he has made you feel that sin is a
bitter thing; he has made you drunken with wormwood, and broken your
teeth with gravel stones. He has brought you down as the fool in the
hundred and seventh Psalm, by affliction and by labour, and you are
crying out in anguish, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" Ay, doubtless,
you that have once felt the weight of God's hand upon your conscience,
will rejoice to hear that there is an embassage of peace sent to you.
An ambassador is likewise always welcome to those who are labouring
under a few of total and speedy destruction. If none of you are in that
plight, I remember when I was, when I thought every day it was a marvel
of mercies that I was kept alive, and wondered as I woke at morn that I
was not lifting up my eyes with Dives in hell. Everything about Christ
was precious to me then! I think I would have stood in the most crowded
chapel, nor would I have been weary had I sat upon the hardest seat; no
length of service would have wearied me, might I but have had an
inkling that God would peradventure have mercy upon my soul. My eyes
were full of tears. My soul was faint with watching, and I would have
kissed the feet of any man who would have told me the way of salvation.
But, alas! it seemed as if no man cared for my soul, till at last God
blessed an humble instrument to give light to his poor dark child.
Hence I know that the news of mercy will be exceedingly welcome to you
who stand upon the jaws of hell, fearing that the gates will soon be
bolted upon you, and that you will be for ever lost. You will be ready
to cry like our Methodist friends, "Hallelujah! Glory! Hallelujah!
Bless the Lord!" whilst you hear that God still sends an embassage of
peace to your soul.
Most acceptable, too, is a messenger of peace if the people know that
he brings no hard terms. When a certain king sent to the inhabitants of
a town that he would make peace with them, provided he put out their
right eyes and cut off their right hands, I am sure the tidings must
have caused the utmost consternation, and the ambassador could not be
very popular. But there are no hard terms in the gospel. In fact, there
are no terms, no conditions at all. It is an unconditional peace which
God makes with men. It is a gospel which asks nothing of men, but gives
them everything. The Lord saith, "My oxen and my fatlings are killed;
all things are ready, come ye to the supper." There is nothing for man
to get ready; all things are prepared. The terms–if I must use a word
I do not like–are simple and easy. "Believe, and live." With what joy
should a rebellious sinner hear the voice of the ambassador who brings
no hard conditions from God.
And should not the fame of the King increase the zest with which the
embassage is received? Comes it not from him who cannot lie! No
temporary peace is proposed that may presently be broken, but a peace
that shall stand fast for ever and ever. No temporary armistice, no
brief interlude between the deeds of battle do we herald. Peace;
eternal, unbroken peace; peace that shall endure in life and outlive
death; peace which shall endure throughout eternity, we testify and
make known to you.
This peace is proclaimed to all men. It is proclaimed without
exception." Whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be
saved." None are excluded hence but those who do themselves exclude.
Such an ambassador bringing such a message must surely be a welcome
messenger from his God. Let us ask now, What is:–
II. THE COMMISSION OF PEACE which God has entrusted us to proclaim? The
words are concise, the sense is transparent." To wit, that God was in
Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespass
unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. "Let
us open the commission. It lies in a nutshell." Thus saith the Lord of
Hosts, As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of
him that dieth, but had rather that he should turn unto me and live."
"Come now, let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be
as scarlet they shall be as wool, though they be red like crimson they
shall be whiter than snow. Our commission begins with the announcement
that God is love, that he is full of pity and compassion, that he is
desirous to receive his creature back, that he willeth to forgive, and
that he electeth, if it be consistent with the high attribute of his
justice, to accept even the most rebellious, and to put them amongst
his children. Our commission goes on to disclose the manner, as well as
the motive, of mercy. Inasmuch as God is love, he, in order to remove
all difficulties in the way of pardoning rebels, has been pleased to
give his only begotten Son that he might stand in the room, place, and
stead of those whom God has chosen; their sins he engaged to take; to
carry their sorrows, and to make an atonement on their behalf. Thus the
justice of God should be satisfied, and his love flow over to the human
race. We declare, therefore, that God has given Christ, and he has made
it a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that he came into
the world to save sinners, even the very chief. Christ, the Son of God,
has become man. Cheerfully and willingly he took upon himself our
nature; veiled the form of Deity in a humble garb of clay; was born of
the Virgin Mary, lived a life of holiness, and died a death of
sacrifice. Through this marvellous death of the Man, the God, Christ
Jesus, God is at peace with his people. The peace is made already, for
he is our peace. God is at peace with every man for whom Jesus died.
Jesus Christ stood in the room, place, and steed of his chosen people.
Christ was punished for their sins. Justice cannot punish twice for one
offense. Christ, the substitute, being punished, the sinner cannot be
amenable for his own offences. Those for whom Jesus died go free. The
proclamation is that God is willing to be reconciled, that he is
reconciled. It is an announcement, not that you may have peace merely,
but that peace is made with God by Jesus Christ for you–full peace,
without condition, not half-made, but wholly made; the penalty being
completely paid to the last doit, and the sacrifice completely
slaughtered till the last drop of blood had expiated the last offence.
But the proclamation needs something more to give us any satisfaction.
Are there any tidings in it for you and me? Well, our message goes on
to announce that whosoever in the wide world will come to Jesus Christ,
and commit his cause to him as Redeemer, Saviour, and Friend, shall
forthwith be at peace with God, receive full pardon for all offences,
and be welcomed as a favourite of the Most High. He shall know that for
him Jesus Christ did die in his stead, and as surety did stand for him
when he appeared before God. From condemnation he is, therefore, free;
of salvation he is, therefore, sure. This proclamation, I say, is to be
made universally. Though every man will not be blessed by it, the
preacher cannot discriminate between those who must and those who will
not inherit the blessing. Though only some will accept it, the preacher
is not warranted in showing any partiality. It is the Holy Spirit's
work to impress the Word on the conscience, and to arouse the
conscience by the Word. As for us, we are willing enough to turn our
face to the north or to the south, to the east or to the west. Gladly
would we proclaim it to the red man who hunts the savannahs of America,
to the swarthy man who never heard the name of Christ before, or to the
white man who has often heard, but never heeded it. The same message,
that God has accepted Christ as a substitute for every man that will
believe in Christ, and that whosoever trusts Christ to save him is in
that moment saved, will suffice for all. Yea, we would tell them that
before the sinner does trust Christ he is reconciled unto God by his
death, because the atonement which he offered had been accepted, and
there was peace forestalled between God and that sinner. What a message
I have to present! What a proclamation I have to make! Nothing is
necessary on your part. God expects nothing of you to merit his esteem,
or to enhance the value of his gift. If repentance be indispensable, he
is prepared to give it to you. If a tender heart be needed, he is ready
to give you a heart of flesh. If you feel that you have a heart of
stone, be has engaged to take it away. Does your guilt oppress you, he
says, "I will sprinkle clean water, water of pure fountains, upon them,
and they shall be cleansed from all their filthiness, and from all
their uncleanness will I save them." Know, all men, that there is no
exception made. When Charles II came back to England there was an
amnesty, except for certain persons, and these were mentioned by
name–Hugh Peters and others were proscribed; but there is no exception
here. I find not any traitors singled out and denounced by name. I have
to proclaim an indemnity of such universal import that it is
indiscriminate, "Whosoever believeth on him shall never perish, but
shall have everlasting life."
Moreover, there is no exception made in my commission to any form of
sin–unless it be the sin against the Holy Ghost–which carries its own
evidence as well as its consequence. Those to whom I now speak, if they
feel any drawings of heart towards God have not committed that mortal
crime. Murder, theft, forgery, felony, fornication, adultery, and
covetousness, which is idolatry–black and hideous as is the
catalogue–here is pardon for the whole. Ransack the kennels, however
filthy; rake the slums, however odious; drag out the abominations of
the age, however degrading; here is pardon not only possible, probable,
but positive. Bring a man here who has stained himself crimson all over
with every sort of infamy, though it be not the lapse of an hour, but
the habit of a life, yet God is still able to forgive. Jesus Christ is
able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him.
I do not know whether you find it very good to hear the proclamation,
but I do know that I feel it most gratifying to utter it. Thrice happy
am I to have such an announcement to make to rebels. Unwonted hearers,
listen to my voice. By what strange chance have yon reckless, heedless,
unconverted souls mingled with this throng of worshippers? Not often do
you darken the floor of a place of worship. You hardly know how you
were led to come in hither. To what depths of sin you have run, to what
extremities of iniquity you have gone! You marvel to find yourself in
the company of God's people. But since you are here, give heed to the
message," Thus saith the Lord, I have blotted out like a cloud thine
iniquities, and like a thick cloud thy sins. Return unto me, for I am
married unto thee. I have given my blood to redeem thee. Return, O
wandering child of man; return, return, and I will have mercy upon
thee, for I am God, and not man." Having thus opened my commission, I
will endeavour to perform:–
III. A VERY SOLEMN DUTY.
My text supplies me with a warrant. It says, "As though God did beseech
you by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled unto God."
Then it seems we have not merely to read our commission, but we have to
beseech you to accept it. Why should we beseech you? Is it not because
you are rational creatures, not automata, men not machines. A machine
might be compelled to perform functions without persuasion, but the
Spirit of God often acts upon the heart of man by the sound arguments
and affectionate entreaties of his servants whom he commissions. We are
to beseech you because your hearts are so hard that you are prone to
defy God's power, and resist his grace. Therefore, we pray you to put
down your weapons. We are to beseech you because you are unbelieving,
and will not credit the tidings. You say it is too good to be true that
God will have mercy on such as you are. Therefore, we are to put our
hand on you, to go down on our knees to you, and to beseech you not to
put away this blessed embassy. We are to beseech you because you are so
proud and self-satisfied that you will sooner follow your own
righteousness and cling to your own works, than accept a peace already
and freely proffered to you. We are to beseech you because you are
careless. You give little heed to what is spoken: you will go your way
and forget all our proclamations; therefore, are we to press you
urgently, instantly, importunately, And to beseech you as when a mother
pleadeth for her child's life, as when a condemned criminal beseeches
the judge to have pity on him, so are we to beseech you. I think I
never feel so conscious of my own weakness as when I have to ply you
thus with exhortations. Oh! there have been a few times in my ministry
when I could with flowing eyes beseech you to be reconciled to God, but
these dry eyes of mine are not so often fountains of tears as I could
wish. We need such an one as Richard Baxter to dilate upon this last
part of the text. Perhaps we could handle the former part better than
he, but he could handle this last far better than we can. Oh! how he
would have summoned you by the terrible reality of things to come! With
what glaring eyes and seething words he would say, "Oh! men, turn ye,
turn ye, why will ye die? By the need of a Saviour you will feel in the
pangs of parting life, when the pulsings shall be few and feeble, till
with a gasp you shall expire; by the resurrection when you will wake
up, if not in his likeness, to everlasting shame and contempt; by the
judgment-seat, where your sins shall be published, and you shall be
called to account for the deeds done in the body; by the dread decree
which casteth into the pit for ever those that repent, not; by the
heaven you will lose:, and by the hell into which you will fall; by
eternity, that dread eternity whose years never waste; by the wrath to
come, the burning indignation of which shall never cool; by the
immortality of your own souls, by the perils you now run, by the
promises you despise, by the provocations you multiply, by the
penalties you accumulate, we do beseech you to be reconciled to God."
Fly to Jesus. Call upon his name. Trust him; his word; his work, his
goodness and his grace. This is the way of reconciliation. Bow the knee
and kiss the Son. We do conjure you to do so. Acquaint yourselves now
with God, and be at peace with him. My text bangs like a crushing
weight upon my soul at this moment. It is awful in its grandeur, and it
is majestically full of divine love. I must read the words again in
your hearing. Oh! that the sense might break in on your understanding!
We are to beseech you as though God did beseech you, and we to do it in
Christ's stead. You see God speaks when his ambassadors speak. I
wonder, oh! I wonder, whether I have brain enough to compass the
thought of how God would beseech you to be reconciled! 'Tis the
Father's own self-pleading with his prodigal son. Can you imagine the
father in the parable going after his son, and finding him in rags
feeding swine? Can you conceive him saying, "My son, my dear son, come
back! come back and I will forgive you all!" You think you hear that
son saying to his father "Get you gone, I will not hear of it", till
his father says "My dear son, why will you prefer the company of swine
to your father's house? Why will you wear rags when you might be
clothed in the best robe? Why will you starve in a far-off country when
my house shall be full of feasting on your return?" What if that son
should utter some indignant word, and tell his father to his face he
never would go back! Oh! I think I see the venerable, loving man
falling on his son's neck and kissing him, in his filth just as he is
(for "the great love wherewith he loved us when we were dead in
trespasses and sins!")–and he says to the rebel that insults him and
resents his tenderness, "My dear son, you must come back; I must have
you; I cannot be without you. I must have you; come back!" In such a
style we ought to plead with men. Ah! then, I cannot plead with you as
I would. As though God himself, your offended Maker, came to you now as
he did to Adam in the cool of the day, and said to you, "Oh! return to
me, for I have loved thee with an everlasting love," even so, as though
God spoke, would I woo you, ye chiefest sinners, to return to him. You
know, dear friends, that the great God did send another ambassador, and
that great ambassador was Christ. Now the Apostle says that we, the
ministers, are ambassadors for Christ in Christ's stead. Christ is no
more an ambassador; he has gone to heaven; we stand in his stead to the
sons of men, not to make peace, but to proclaim it. What! am I then to
speak in Christ's stead! But how can I picture my Lord Jesus standing
here? Alas, my imagination is not equal to the task. Would that I had
sympathy enough with him to put myself in his case so as to use his
words. Methinks I see him looking at this great throng as once he
looked at the inhabitants of Jerusalem. He turns his head round to
these galleries, and about on yonder aisles, and at last he bursts into
a flood of tears, saying, "How often would I have gathered thy children
together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would
not." He is choked with tears, and when he has paused a moment, he
cries, "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest; take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls; a bruised reed
I will not break, nor quench the smoking flax."
Again, I think I see him, as he looks at you again, and when he
observes some hearts so obdurate and hard that they will not melt, he
unwraps his mantle, and exclaims, "See here." Do you mark the gash in
his side? As he lifts his hands and shows the nail-prints, and points
downward to his pierced feet, he says, "By these, my wounds, which I
endured when suffering for you, O my people, return unto me; come, bow
at my feet, and take the peace which I have wrought out for you. Oh! be
not faithless, but believing! Doubt no longer! God is reconciled!
Tremble no more! Peace is established. Toil no more at the works of the
law, cling not to your own doings. Cease to consult your feelings. It
is finished. When I bowed my head upon the tree, I finished all for
you. Take salvation: take it now! Come to me; come now to me just as
you are." Alas! this is but a poor representation of my Lord and
Master. I could wish myself laid among the clods of the valley,
sleeping in my grave, rather than that I should be so poor an
ambassador. But, Lord, wherefore didst thou choose thy servant, and why
givest thou this people still to hear his voice, if thou wilt not more
mightily enable him to plead with men. I have no more words, oh! let
these, tears plead with you. I feel that I could freely give my life if
it would avail for the saving of your souls. Fain would I meet a
martyr's death, if you would be persuaded thereby to come to Christ,
for life. But oh! sinners, no pleading of mine will ever prevail if the
pleading of Christ prove ineffectual with you. To each one of you, a
distinct proclamation of salvation is addressed. Whosoever among you
will believe that Christ died, and that he is able to save you, and
will trust your soul upon what he did, shall be saved. Oh! why reject
him? He will not hurt nor harm you. Do lay hold of this good hope, for
your time is short! Death is hastening on; eternity is near! Do lay
hold of it, for hell is hot, the, flames thereof are terrible! Lay hold
of it, for heaven is bright, and the harps of angels are sweet beyond
compare! Lay hold of it. It shall make your heart glad on earth, it
shall charm away your fears and remove your griefs! Lay hold of it! It
shall bear you through Jordan's billows, and land you safe on Canaan's
side. Oh! by the love of the Father, by the, blood of Jesus, by the
love of the Spirit, I beseech you, sinner, believe and live! By the
cross and the five wounds, by the agony and bloody sweat, by the
resurrection, and by the ascension, sinner, believe and live! By every
argument that would touch your nature, by every motive that can sway
your reason or stir your passions, in the name of God that sent me, by
the Almighty that made you, by the Eternal Son that redeemed you, by
the gift of the Holy Spirit, sinner, I command you, with divine
authority to sanction my vehemence, that ye be reconciled to God
through the death of his Son! And:–
IV. WHAT THEN?
When we have answered this question we shall have done. What then? Are
there not some of you with whom this peace is made at this good hour? I
will go back and tell my Master so. Then there shall be fresh
ratifications between you and him. The angels will hear of it, and they
will strike their harps anew to sweeter lays than they have known
before.
Others there are of you that will not be reconciled. I must have an
answer from you. Do you hesitate? Do you delay? Do you refuse? You
shall never have another warning, some of you! No tears of pity shall
be wept for you again; no loving heart shall ever bid you come to
Christ again must have your answer now. Yes or no. Wilt thou be damned
or not? Wilt thou be saved or not? I will not have thee say, "When I
have a more convenient season I will send for thee." Sinner, it cannot
be a more convenient one than this. This is a convenient place; it is
God's house. It is a convenient time; it is the Lord's day. Now,
sinner, wilt thou be reconciled, restored, forgiven? "Wilt thou be made
whole?" said Jesus, and I say the same to thee, "Wilt thou be made
whole?" Do you say, "No"? Must I take that for an answer? Mark you,
sinner, I have to tell my Master must tell him when I seek the closet
of the King to-night; I must tell him your reply that you would not.
What then remains for an ambassador to do when he has spoken to you in
the name of the Sovereign? If you will not turn, we must shake off the
dust of our feet against you. I am clear, I am clear, of the blood of
you all, I am clear. If you perish, being warned, you perish wantonly.
The wrath cometh upon you, not on him who, to the best of his power,
has told his Master's message. Yet again, I beg you to accept it. Do
you still say no? The white flag will be pulled down. It has been up
long enough. Shall I pull it down, and run up the red flag now? Shall I
hurl threatenings at you because you heed not entreaties?
"If your ears refuse
The language of his grace,
And hearts grow hard like stubborn Jews,
That unbelieving race,
The Lord in anger drest,
Shall lift his trend and swear
Ye that despised my promised rest
Shall have no portion there."
But no, I cannot pull it down, that white flag! My heart will not let
me do so; it shall fly there still, it shall fly there as a sign and a
symbol of the day of grace. Mercy is still held out to you. But there
is one coming–I can hear his footsteps–who will pull down that white
flag. The vision haunts my eyes. That grim, heartless skeleton whom men
call Death will rend the white flag from its place, and up will go the
blood-red flag, with the black escutcheon of the thunderbolts. Where
are you then, sinners? Where will you be then? You shudder at the
thought. He lays his hand on you. There is no escape. Oh! turn ye, turn
ye, turn ye! Come and welcome, sinner, come now while you are welcome.
'Tis love invites you. Jesus stretches out his hand to you all the day
long. He has stretched out his hands to a rebellious, and a gainsaying
generation. Do not say, "I will think of it," but yield to his love who
around you now the bands of a man doth cast. Do not make a resolution,
but commit yourself to the good confession. Now, even now, may
sovereign grace constrain, and irresistible love draw you. May you
believe with your heart, may you record your profession at once. Before
you close your eyes in sleep, just as you would wish before your eyes
are closed in death, may you be at peace with God. I pray God, as I
entreat you, that this may come to pass, for his Son, Jesus Christ's
sake. Amen.