Come and Welcome
A Sermon
(No. 279)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, October 16th, 1859, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.
"And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say,
Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him
take the water of life freely."–Revelation 22:17.
THE CRY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION is the simple word, "Come." The
Jewish law said, "Go, and take heed unto thy steps as to the path in
which thou shalt walk. Go, and break the commandments, and thou shalt
perish; Go, and keep them, and thou shalt live." The law was a
dispensation of the whip, which drove men before it; the gospel is just
of the opposite kind. It is the Shepherds dispensation. He goeth before
his sheep, and he bids them follow him, saying unto them, "Come." The
law repels; the gospel attracts. The law shows the distance between God
and man; the gospel bridges that distance, and brings the sinner across
that great fixed gulf which Moses could never bridge. The fact is, as
you will all have to learn, if you know anything of gracious
experience, that from the first moment of your spiritual life until you
are ushered into glory, the cry of Christ to you will be, "Come, come
unto me." He will always be ahead of you, bidding you follow him as the
soldier follows his leader. He will always go before you to pave your
way, and to prepare your path, and he will bid you come after him all
through life, and in the solemn hour of death, when you shall lie
panting upon your bed, his sweet word with which he shall usher you
into the heavenly world shall be–"Come, come unto me. Stretch thy
wings and fly straight to this world of joy where I am dwelling. Come
and be with me where I am."
Nay, further than this, this is not only Christ's cry to you; but if
you be a believer, this is your cry to Christ–"Come! come!" You will
be longing for his second advent; you will be saying, "Come quickly,
even so come Lord Jesus." And you will be always panting for nearer and
closer communion with him. As his voice to you is "Come," even so will
be your prayer to him, "Come, Lord, and abide in my house. Come, and
consecrate me more fully to thy service; come, and without a rival
reign; come, occupy alone the throne of my heart."
"Come," then, is the very motto-word of the gospel. I hope to expand
that word, this morning, to beat out the golden grain into goldleaf,
and may God the Holy Spirit speak this day with his minister, and may
some who have never come to Jesus before, now come to him for the first
time.
Let us go at once to our text–"Whosoever will, let him take the water
of life freely." Now, there are four things very plain from our text,
namely, that first, there is a "water of life;" that secondly, the
invitation is very wide–"Whosoever will;" that thirdly, the path is
clear, for it says, "Whoever will, let him come;" and then again, that,
fourthly, the only rule that is prescribed is–let him take it
"freely." That is the only price demanded, and the only condition,
which indeed is not a condition, but a death-blow to all conditions.
"Let him come and take the water of life freely."
I. First, then, remember I am about to preach a very simple sermon this
morning, dealing with simple souls. I am longing to see sinners brought
to Christ, my heart yearns after the multitude of men who see no beauty
in him that they should desire him. God has saved many in this place;
may he be pleased this morning to bring some wanderer to the Father's
house, through the merit of the Son's cross by the Spirit's influence.
Well, then, THERE IS A "WATER OF LIFE." Man is utterly ruined and
undone. He is lost in a wild waste wilderness. The skin bottle of his
righteousness is all dried up, and there is not so much as a drop of
water in it. The heavens refuse him rain, and the earth can yield him
no moisture. Must he perish? He looks aloft, beneath, around, and he
discovers no means of escape. Must he die? Must thirst devour him? Must
he fall upon the desert and leave his bones to bleach under the hot
sun? No; for the text declares there is a fountain of life. Ordained in
old eternity by God in solemn covenant, this fountain, this divine
well, takes its spring from the deep foundations of God's decrees. It
gusheth up from the depth which coucheth beneath, it cometh from that
place which the eagle's eye hath not seen, and which the lion's whelp
hath not passed over. The deep foundations of Godly government, the
depth, of his own essential goodness and of his divine nature–these
are the mysterious springs from which gush forth that fountain of the
"water of life" which shall do good a to man. The Son hath digged this
well and bored through massive rocks which prevented this living water
from springing upward. Using his cross as the grand instrument he has
pierced through rocks, he has himself descended to the lowest depth,
and he hath broken a passage by which the love and grace of God, the
living water which can save the soul, may well up and overflow to
quench the thirst of dying men. The Son hath bidden this fountain
freely flow, hath removed the stone which laid upon the mouth thereof,
and now having ascended upon high he standeth there to see that the
fountain shall never stay its life-giving course, that its floods shall
never be dry, that its depths shall never be exhausted. This sacred
fountain, established according to God's good will and pleasure in the
covenant, opened by Christ when he died upon the cross, floweth this
day to give life and health, and joy and peace to poor sinners dead in
sin, and ruined by the fall. There is a "water of life."
Let us pause awhile and look at its floods as they come gushing
upwards, overflowing on every side, and assuaging men's thirst. Let us
look with joyous eye. It is called the "water of life," and richly doth
it deserve its name. God's favor is life, and in his presence there is
pleasure for evermore; but this water is God's favor, and consequently
life. By this water of life is intended God's free grace, God's love
for men, so, that if you come and drink, you shall find this to be life
indeed to your soul, for in drinking of God's grace you inherit God's
love, you are reconciled to God, God stands in a fatherly relation to
you, he loves you, and his great infinite heart yearns towards you:
Again, it is living water not simply because it is love, and that is
life, but it saves from impending death. The sinner knows that he must
die because he is filthy. He has committed sins so tremendous that God
must punish him. God must cease to be just if he does not punish the
sins of man. Man when conscious that he has been very guilty, stands
shivering in the presence of his Maker, feeling in his soul that his
doom is signed, and sealed, and that he must certainly be cast away
from all hope, and life, and joy. Come hither then ye sin-doomed; this
water can wash away your sins, and when your sins are washed away, then
shall ye live; for the innocent must not be punished. Here is water
that can make you whiter than driven snow. What though you be black as
Kedar's smoky tents, here is water that can purge you, and wash you to
the whiteness of perfection, and make you fair as the curtains of king
Solomon. These waters well deserve the name of life, since pardon is a
condition of life. Unpardoned we die, we perish, we sink into the
depths of hell; pardoned we live, we rise, we ascend to the very
heights of heaven. See here, then, this ever-gushing fountain will give
to all who take thereof life from the dead, by the pardon of their
sins.
"But," saith the poor convicted soul, "This is not all I want, for if
all the sins I have ever committed were blotted out, in one ten minutes
I should commit many more. If I were now completely pardoned, it would
not be many seconds before I should destroy my soul and sink helplessly
again." Ay! but see here this is living water, it can quench thy thirst
of sin; entering into thy soul it shall overcome and cover with its
floods thy propensities to evil. It shall cover them first, it shall
afterwards drown them, and at last, it shall utterly carry them away,
sucking them into its whirlpool-depths where they shall never be found
any more for ever. Oh sinners! this fountain of gospel grace can so
wash your hearts that you shall no longer love sin, yea, so perfectly
can this water refine the soul that it shall one day make you as
spotless as the angels who stand before the throne of God, and you too,
like them, shall obey the behests of God, hearkening to his commands,
and rejoicing to be his servants. This is life indeed, for here is a
favor, here is pardon, here is sanctity, the renewing of the soul by
the washing of water, through the Word.
"But," saith one, "I have a longing within me which I cannot satisfy. I
feel sure that if I be pardoned yet there is something which I
want–which nothing I have ever heard of, or have ever seen or handled
can satisfy. I have within me an aching void which the world can never
fill." "There was a time," says one, "when I was satisfied with the
theater, when the amusements, the pleasures of men of the world, were
very satisfactory to me. But lo! I have pressed this olive till it
yields no more the generous oil; it is but the dreggy thick excrement
thereof that now I can obtain. My joys have faded; the beauty of my fat
valley hath become as a faded flower. No longer can I rejoice in the
music of this world." Ah! soul, glad am I that thy cistern has become
dry, for till men are dissatisfied with this world they never look out
for the next; till the God of this world has utterly deceived them they
will not look to him who is the only living and true God. But hearken!
thou that art wretched and miserable, here is living water that can
quench thy thirst. Come hither and drink, and thou shalt be satisfied;
for he that is a believer in Christ finds enough for him in Christ now,
and enough for ever. The believer is not the man who has to pace his
room, saying, "I find no amusements and no delight." He is not the man
whose days are weary, and whose nights are long, for he finds in
religion such a spring of joy, such a fountain of consolation, that he
is content and happy. Put him in a dungeon and he will find good
company; place him in a barren wilderness, still he could eat the bread
of heaven; drive him away from friendship, he will find the "friend
that sticketh closer than a brother." Blast all his gourds, and he will
find shadow beneath the rock of ages; sap the foundation of his earthly
hopes, but since the foundation of his God standeth sure, his heart
will still be fixed, trusting in the Lord. There is each a fullness in
religion, that I can honestly testify from experience,
"I would not change my best estate,
For all that earth calls good or great."
I never knew what happiness was till I knew Christ; I thought I did. I
warmed my hands before the fire of sin, but it was a painted fire. But
oh, when once I tasted the Saviour's love, and had been washed in
Jesus's blood, that was heaven begun below.
"Tis heaven on earth, and heaven above,
To see his face, to taste his love."
Oh, if ye did but know the joys of religion, if ye did but know the
sweetness of love to Christ, surely ye could not stand aloof. If ye
could but catch a glimpse of the believer when he is dancing for joy,
you would renounce your wildest mirth, your greatest joy, to become the
meanest child in the family of God. Thus then it is the living water,
it is the water of life, because it satisfies our thirst, and gives us
the reality of life which we can never find in anything beneath the
sky.
And here let me add very briefly, he who once drinks of this water of
life, drinks that which will quench his thirst for ever. You shall
never thirst again, except it be that you shall long for deeper
draughts of this living fountain.
In that sweet manner shalt thou thirst. It shalt not be a thirst of
pain, it shall be a thirst of loving joy–a happy thirst, you will find
it a sweet thing to be thirsting after more of Christ's love. Become a
Christian, and thou shalt be satisfied for life, thou shalt then be
able to say,–"Return unto thy rest, O my son, for the Lord has dealt
bountifully with thee." Thou shalt find an ever-living tree upon which
thou shalt build thy nest, and no axe shall ever fell it, no winds
shall ever shake thy quiet resting-place, but thou shalt rest for ever
on the dear bosom of the Saviour where thou shalt find eternal rest,
eternal joy and peace. Oh, come and take of him, and drink of the water
of life freely.
And, moreover, he who drinketh of this living water shall never die.
His body shall see corruption for a little while, but his soul mounting
aloft, shall dwell with Jesus. Yea! and his very body when it has
passed through the purifying process, shall again more glorious than
when it was sown in weakness. It shall rise in glory, in honor, in
power, in majesty, and united with the soul, it shall everlastingly
inherit the joys which Christ has prepared for them that love him. This
is the living water; I see the fountain flowing now, freely flowing,
sparkling with all these excellent properties. Who would not long to
come and drink thereof?
II. In the second place we observe from the text that the invitation is
very wide–"WHOSOEVER WILL, LET HIM TAKE THE WATER OF LIFE FREELY." How
wide is this invitation! There are some ministers who are afraid to
invite sinners, then why are they ministers! for they are afraid to
perform the most important part of the sacred office. There was a time
I must confess when I somewhat faltered when about to give a free
invitation. My doctrinal sentiments did at thee time somewhat hamper
me. I boldly avow that I am unchanged as to the doctrines I have
preached; I preach Calvinism as high, as stern, and as sound as ever;
but I do feel, and always did feel an anxiety to invite sinners to
Christ. And I do feel also, that not only is such a course consistent
with the soundest doctrines, but that the other course is after all the
unsound one, and has no title whatever to plead Scripture on its
behalf. There has grown up in many Baptist churches an idea that none
are to be called to Christ but what they call sensible sinners. I
sometimes rebut that by remarking, that I call stupid sinners to Christ
as well as sensible sinners, and that stupid sinners make by far the
greatest proportion of the ungodly. But I glory in the avowal that I
preach Christ even to insensible sinners–that I would say even to the
dry bones of the valley, as Ezekiel did, "Ye dry bones live!" doing it
as an act of faith; not faith in the power of those that hear to obey
the command, but faith in the power of God who gives the command to
give strength also to those addressed, that they may be constrained to
obey it. But now listen to my text; for here, at least, there is no
limitation. But sensible or insensible, all that the text saith is,
"Whosoever will, let him come and take the water of life freely."
The one question I have to ask this morning is, art thou willing? if
so, Christ bids thee take the water of life. Art thou willing? if so,
be pardoned, be sanctified be made whole. For if thou art willing
Christ is willing too, and thou art freely invited to come and welcome
to the fountain of life and grace.
Now mark, the question has to do with the will. "Oh," says one, "I am
so foolish I cannot understand the plan of salvation, therefore I may
not come and drink." But my question has nothing to do with your
understanding, it has to do with your will. You may be as big a fool as
you will, but if you are willing to come to Christ you are freely
invited. If you could not read a single letter in the alphabet, or
spell out a word in the book, yet may your lips–ignorant lips though
they be–now drink of this water of life. It has nothing to do with
your understanding; it does not say "Whosoever understandeth let him
come," but "whosoever will," and I do not doubt but what there are many
souls who when they first come to Christ have very little understanding
of the way of salvation, and very little knowledge of the way in which
he saves; but they come to Christ, the Holy Ghost makes them willing to
come, and so they are saved. Oh ye who have been for many a year
wearing the pauper's garb, ye who come here from the workhouse, ye that
are ignorant, ye that are despised among men–are you willing to be
saved? Can you say from your heart, "Lord, thou knowest I would have my
sins forgiven?" Then come and welcome. Jesus bids thee come. Let not
thine ignorance keep thee away. He appeals, not to thine understanding,
but to thy will.
"Oh," says one, "I can understand the plan of salvation, but I cannot
repent as I would. Sir, my heart is so hard, I cannot bring the tear to
my eye, I cannot feel my sins as I would desire.
"My heart how dreadful hard it is,
How heavy here it lies;
Heavy and cold within my breast,
Just like a rock of ice."
Ay, but this text has nothing to do with your heart; it is with your
will. Are you willing? Then be your heart hard as the nether millstone
if thou art willing to be saved I am bidden to invite thee. "Whosoever
will," not "whosoever feels," but "whosoever will, let him come and
take the water of life freely." "Yes," says one, "I can honestly say I
am willing, but my heart will not soften. I wish that grace would
change me. I can say I wish that Christ would soften my heart. I do
desire that he would put the living fire within my cold breast and make
me repent, and make me love him, and make me believe in him. I am
willing." Well, then, the text is for thee, "Whosoever will, let him
come." If thou art willing thou art freely invited to Christ. "No,"
saith one, "but I am such a great sinner. I have been a drunkard; I
have been a lascivious man; I have gone far astray from the paths of
rectitude. I would not have all my sins known to my fellow creatures.
How can God accept of such a wretch as I am, such a foul creature as I
have been?" Mark thee, man! There is no reference made here to thy past
life. It simply says, "whosoever will," Art thou willing? Art thou
willing to be saved? Canst thou say, "Now, Lord, I am willing to be
saved, give me a new heart; I am willing to give up my sins; I am
willing to be a Christian; I am willing to believe and willing to obey,
but oh for this no strength have I, Lord, I have the will; give me the
power." Then thou art freely invited to come, if thou art but willing.
There is no barrier between thee and Christ except thy stubborn will.
If thy will is subdued, and if thou art saying "Yes, Lord, I am
willing," then art thou freely invited. Oh, reject not the invitation,
but, come and welcome, sinner come."
But saith one, "I cannot come, I cannot believe; I cannot do as I
would." Well, but it does not say, "Whosoever can, let him come," but
"whosoever will, let him come." Art thou willing? You know there is
many a man that has more will than power, but God estimates us not by
our power, but by our will. You see a man on horseback, he is in haste
to fetch a doctor for some dying man: the horse is a miserable jade,
and will not go as rapidly as the man would like, but you cannot scold
him because you see him whipping and spurring, and thus proving that he
would go if he could, and so the master takes the man's will for the
deed. So is it with you, your poor heart will not go, it is a sorry,
disabled jade, but it would go if it could. So Jesus invites you, not
according to what you can, but according to what you will. "Whosoever
will, let him come and take the water of life freely." All the
stipulation is–Art thou willing–truly willing? If so, thou art freely
welcome. Thou art earnestly invited to take of the water of life, and
that freely too.
Surely as this goes round the hall, there will be many found who did
answer to it, and who will say, from all their hearts, "I am willing: I
am willing." Come let the question go personally round. Let me not talk
to you in the mass, but let the arrow reach the individual. Grey head,
give thy reply, and let you fair-haired boy answer also. Are you
willing now to be saved–are you willing to forsake sin–willing to
take Christ to be your master from this day forth and for ever? Are you
willing to be washed in his blood? Willing to be clothed in his
righteousness? Are you willing to be made happy–willing to escape from
hell, and willing to enter? Strange that it should be necessary to ask
such questions, but still it is. Are you willing? Then remember that
whatever may be against you–whatever may have defiled you–however
black, however filthy, however worthless you may be, you are invited
this day to take of the fountain of the water of life freely, for you
are willing, and it is said, "Whosoever will, let him come."
"Ah!" saith one, "God knows I am willing, but still I do not think I am
worthy." No, I know you are not, but what is that to do with it? It is
not "whosoever is worthy," but "whosoever will, let him come." "Well,"
says one, "I believe that whosoever will may come, but not me, for I am
the vilest sinner out of hell." But mark thee, sinner, it says,
"whosoever." What a big word that is! Whosoever! There is no standard
height here. It is of any height and any size. Little sinners, big
sinners, black sinners, fair sinners, sinners double dyed, old sinners,
aggravated sinners, sinners who have committed every crime in the whole
catalogue,–whosoever. Doth this exempt one? Who can be excluded from
this whosoever? It mattereth not who thou mayest be, nor what thou
mayest have been, if thou art willing to be saved; free as the air thou
breathest is the love and grace of God. "Whosoever will, let him take
the water of life freely."
Thus have I tried to show you how broad the invitation is.
III. And now I am about to show you, in the third place, how clear the
path is. "WHOSOEVER WILL, LET HIM TAKE THE WATER OF LIFE FREELY." That
word "let" is a very curious word, because it signifies two opposite
things. "Let" is au old-fashioned word which sometimes signifies
"hinder." "He that letteth shall be taken away,"–that is, "He that
hindereth." But here, in our text, it means the removing of all
hindrance. "Let him come:"–Methinks I hear Jehovah speaking this. Here
is the fountain of love and mercy. But you are too unworthy, you are
too vile. Hear Jehovah! He cries, "Let him come, he is willing. Stand
back! doubts and fears, away with you, let him come; make a straight
road; let him come if he be but willing." Then the devil himself comes
forward and striding across the way, he says to the poor trembling
soul, "I will spill thy blood; thou shalt never have mercy. I defy
thee; though shalt never believe in Christ, and never be saved." But
Christ says, "Let him come;" and Satan, strong though he be, quails
beneath Jehovah's voice, and Jesus drives him away, and the path stands
clear this morning, nor can sin, nor death, nor hell, block up the way,
when Jehovah Jesus says, "Let him come."
Methinks I see several ministers standing in the way. They are of such
high doctrine that they dare not invite a sinner, and they therefore
clog the gospel with so many conditions. They will have it that the
sinner must feel a certain quantity of experience before he is invited
to come, and so they put their sermons up and say, "You are not
invited, you are a dead sinner, you must not come; you are not invited;
you are a hardened rebel." "Stand back," says Christ, "every one of
you, though ye be my servants. Let him come, he is willing–stand not
in his way." It is a sad thing that Christ's ministers should become
the devil's aiders and abettors, and yet sometimes they are, for when
they are telling a sinner how much he must feel, and how much he must
know before he comes to Christ, they are virtually rolling big stones
in the path, and saying to the willing sinner, "Thou mayest not come."
In the name of Almighty God, stand back everything this morning that
keeps the willing sinner from Christ. Away with you, away with you!
Christ sprinkles his blood upon the way, and crises to you, "Vanish,
begone! leave the road clear; let him come; stand not in his path; make
straight before him his way, level the mountains and fill up the
valleys; make straight through the wilderness a highway for him to
come, to drink of this water of life freely. 'Let him come.'" Oh, is
not that a precious word of command! for it has all the might of
Omnipotence in it. God said, "Let there be light and there was light,"
and he says, "Let him come" and come he will and must, that is but
willing to come. "Whosoever will, let him take of the water of life
freely." And now, sinner, remember God says, "come." Is there anything
in thy way? Remember, he adds, "Let him come." He bids everything stand
out of thy way. Standing one day in the court-house, some witness was
required, I forget his name, it may have been Brown, for instance, in
one moment the name was announced, "Brown, Samuel Brown," by-and-bye
twenty others take up the cry, "Samuel Brown, Samuel Brown." There was
seen a man pushing his way through, "Make room," said he, "make room,
his honor calls me," and though there were many in his path, they gave
way, because his being called was a sufficient command to them, not to
hinder him, but to let him come. And now, soul, if thou be a willing
sinner, though thy name it not mentioned–if thou be a willing sinner,
thou art as truly called as though thou wert called by name, and
therefore, push through thy fears. Make elbow room, and come; they that
would stop thee are craven cowards. He has said "Let him come," and
they cannot keep you beck; Jehovah has said, "Let him come," and it is
yours now to say, "I will come. "There is nothing that shall hinder me,
I will push through every thing, and
'I will to the gracious King,
Whose scepter mercy gives,'
I will go to the fountain and take of the water of life freely."
IV. And now this brings me to the last head, the condition which is the
death of all conditions–LET US TAKE IT FREELY. Methinks I see one here
who is saying "I would be saved and I will do what I can to be worthy
of it." The fountain is free, and he comes with his halfpenny in his
hand, and that a bad one, and he says, "Here, sir, give me a cup of
this living water to drink; I am well worthy of it for see the price is
in my band." Why, man, if thou could'st bring the wealth of Potosi, or
all the diamonds of Galconda, and all the pearls of Ormuz, you could
not buy this most costly thing. Put up your money, you could not have
it for gold or silver. The man brings his merit, but heaven is not to
be sold to meritmongers. Or perhaps you say "I will go to church
regularly, I will give to the poor, I will attend my meeting-house, I
will take a sitting, I will be baptized, I will do this and the other,
and then no doubt I shall have the water of life." Back, miserable
herd, bring not your rags and rubbish to God, he wants them not. Stand
back, you insult the Almighty when you tender anything as payment. Back
with ye; he invites not such as you to come. He says come freely. He
wants nothing to recommend you. He needs no recommendation. You want no
good works. Do not bring any. But you have no good feelings.
Nevertheless you are willing, therefore come. He wants no good feelings
of you. You have no belief and no repentance, yet nevertheless you are
willing.
"True belief and true repentance,
Every grace that brings us nigh,
Without money,
Come to Jesus Christ and buy."
Do not try to get them yourself–come to him, and he will give them to
you. Come just as you are; it is "freely," "without money and without
price." The drinking fountains at the corners of our streets are
valuable institutions; but I cannot imagine anyone being so foolish, as
when he comes to the drinking. fountains fumbling for his purse, and
saying, "I cannot drink because I have not five pounds in my pocket."
Why, however poor the man is, there is the fountain, and poor as he is
he may drink of it. It is put there for the public. Thirsty souls as
they go by, whether they are dressed in fustian or in broad cloth,
don't look for any warrant for drinking; they come and drink of it
freely. Here it is; the liberality of some good friend has put it
there, and they take it and ask no questions whatever. Perhaps the only
persons that ever need to go thirsty through the street where there is
a drinking fountain, are the fine ladies and gentlemen who are in their
carriages. They are very thirsty, and cannot think of being so vulgar
as to get out to drink. It would bemean them, they think, to drink at a
common drinking fountain, so they go with parched lips. Oh, how many
there are that are rich, rich in their own good works, that cannot come
to Christ. "I will not he saved," they say, "in the same way as a
harlot or a swearer. What I go to heaven the same way as a chimney
sweep! Is there no pathway to glory, but the path which a Magdalene may
take? I will not be saved that way." Then you fine gentry may remain
without. You are not bidden to come, for you are not willing. But
remember,
"None are excluded hence,
But those who do themselves exclude;
Welcome the learned and polite,
The ignorant and rude."
"Whosoever wills let him come." Let him bring nothing to recommend him.
Let him not imagine he can give any payment to God or any ransom for
his soul; for the one condition that excludes all conditions is, "Let
him come and take the water of life freely." There is a man of God
here, who has drank of the river of the water of life many times; but
he says, "I want to know more of Christ, I want to have nearer
fellowship with him; I want to enter more closely into the mystery of
his sacrifice; I want to understand more and more of the fellowship of
his sufferings, and to be made conformable unto his death." Well,
believer, drink freely. You have filled your bowl of faith once, and
you drank the draught off, fill it again, drink again, and keep on
drinking. Put your mouth to the fountain if you will, drink right on.
As good Rutherford says in one of his letters, "I have been sinking my
bucket down into the well full often, but now my thirst after Christ
has become so insatiable, that I long to put the well itself to my
lips, and drain it all, and drink right on." Well take it freely as
much as ever you can. You have come now into the field of Boaz, you may
pick up every ear that you can find, nay more than that, you may carry
away the sheaves if you like, and more than that, you may claim the
whole field to be yours if you will. The eating and drinking at
Christ's table is like that of Ahasuerus, only in an opposite way. It
is said of that table, none did compel; it is said of this, none doth
withhold: none can restrain. If there be a big vessel full of this holy
water, drink it all up, and if there be one that holdeth twelve
firkins, drink it, yea, drink it all, and thou shalt find that even
then there is as much as ever. In Christ there is enough for all,
enough for each enough for evermore; and none shall ever have need to
say that there was not enough in Christ for him. Drink freely. So you
see that there are two meanings–drink without price, and drink without
stint.
Then, again, we have an old proverb that there are certain guests who
come to our houses who are more free than they are welcome. They make
free themselves, and go further than we can bid them welcome. But with
regard to those who come to the fountain of living waters, you may make
as free as you will and you are welcome; make as free as you can, take
this water as you will, Christ will not grudge you. He that stands by
the fountain will never mourn because you drink too much; he will never
be dissatisfied because such a black fellow as you has dared to wash
himself in the living stream. No, but the blacker you are the more will
he rejoice that you have been washed; the more thirsty you are the more
will his soul be gladdened to have you drink even to the full and be
satisfied. He is not enriched by withholding; rather he is enriched in
joy by giving. It is as much a pleasure to Christ to save you as it
will be to you to be saved. He is just as glad to see the poor, the
lame, the halt, and the blind sit at his table as ever they can be to
sit there. He is just as pleased to carry men to heaven as they
themselves can be when they drink of the river of joy at the
fountain-head of eternity, "Whosoever will let him take the water of
life freely."
And now I do not know what to say further. My text is such a precious
one that I cannot enter into the fullness of its freeness and
sweetness. Remember, my dear friends, if you are willing to be saved,
God requires nothing of you except that you will yield yourselves up to
Christ. If you are willing to be saved none can prevent; there is no
obstacle. You are not going like the daughters of Hobab to a well from
which you will be driven by the coarseness and rudeness of shepherds.
You are come where Jesus stands–stands with open arms, stands with
open mouth, crying to you this day, "If any man thirst let him come
unto me and drink, and whosoever will let him take the water of life
freely."
And now will you refuse the invitation? See that you refuse not him
that speaketh! Will you go this day and abuse the free mercy of God?
Shall this very mercy lead you into more sin? Will you be wicked enough
to say, that because grace is free, therefore you will continue in sin
year after year?
Oh do not so; grieve not the Spirit of God; to-day is the accepted
time; to-day is the day of salvation. If ye turn not he will whet his
sword; he hath bent his bow, and made it ready. You have been warned,
your conscience has often pricked you, now this day you are sweetly
invited. But the time of warnings and invitations will not last for
ever: they will soon be over, and when your funeral knell is tolling,
you shall be in that lake of fire, that land of misery and pain, where
not a drop of water shall ever cool your burning tongue. As you would
escape from the flames of hell, as you would be delivered from the
eternal torments which God will certainly hurl upon you like
hailstones, I beseech thee now consider thy ways, and if now thou art
willing thou art invited and none can keep thee back from his mercy.
"Whosoever will let him take the water of life freely." Shall I preach
in vain? Will you all go away and not take the water of life? Come,
soul–is there not one at least that God shall give me this day for my
hire–not one? May I not take one of you by the hand, some poor sinning
erring brother? Come, brother let us go together and drink. O may the
Holy Ghost incline you. Take it my brother. See on that bloody tree
Jesus hangs; behold he pays his life a ransom for your sins and mine.
Believe on him, trust him, commit your soul to him and be saved. Will
you not say in your soul
"Just as I am without one plea
But that thy blood was shed for me
And that thou bid'st me come to thee,
O lamb of God I come, I come?"
And as my Master is true and faithful, he cannot cast away one soul
that cometh, for "him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out."
O Spirit, now draw reluctant hearts, and now give timid souls courage
to believe for Jesus' sake. Amen.