Creation–An Argument For Faith

Creation–An Argument For Faith
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 27, 1862, BY REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Ah Lord God, behold, You have made the Heaven and the earth by Your
great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for
You." Jeremiah 32:17.
AT the very time when the Chaldeans had cast up mounds round about the
city of Jerusalem, and when the sword and famine and pestilence had
desolated the whole land, Jeremiah, while in prison, was commanded by
his God to purchase a field of Hanamel, his uncle's son at Anathoth. He
was to subscribe the evidence of purchase by the usual witnesses, to
seal the deed of transfer according to law and custom, and to do this
publicly in the presence of all the Jews that sat in the court of the
prison.
Now, this was a strange purchase for a rational man to make. Prudence
could not justify it–it was purchasing an estate which was utterly
valueless. Reason would repudiate the notion. It was buying with
scarcely a probability that the person purchasing could ever enjoy the
possession. But it was enough for Jeremiah that his God had bid him,
for well he knew that God will be justified of all His children who act
in faith. He bought the piece of land, and it was secured to him. He
did as he was commanded and returned to his dungeon.
When he came into his chamber alone, it is possible that he began to
question himself as to what he had been doing and troubled thoughts
rolled over his mind. "I have been purchasing a useless possession,"
said he. See how he refuses to indulge the thought. He gets as far as
saying, "Ah, Lord God!" as if he were about to utter some unbelieving
or rebellious sentence–but he stops himself, "You can make this plot
of ground of use to me. You can rid this land of these oppressors. You
can make me yet sit under my vine and my fig tree in the heritage which
I have bought. For You did make the heavens and the earth and there is
nothing too hard for You."
Beloved, this gave a majesty to the early saints, that they dared to do
at God's command, things which were unaccountable to sense and which
reason would condemn. They consulted not with flesh and blood. But
whether it is a Noah who is to build a ship on dry land, an Abraham who
is to offer up his only son, or a Moses who is to despise the treasures
of Egypt, or a Joshua who is to besiege Jericho seven days using no
weapons but the blasts of rams' horns–they all act upon God's command.
They act contrary to all the dictates of carnal reason. And God, even
the Lord God, gives a rich reward as the result of their obedient
faith.
I would to God we had in the religion of these modern times, a more
potent infusion of this heroic faith in God. But no. I see the
Christian Church degenerating more and more into a society acting upon
the same principles as commercial companies. The Church, I fear, cannot
now say, "We walk by faith and not by sight." When Edward Irving
preached that memorable sermon concerning the missionary, who, he
thought, was bound to go forth without purse or scrip, and trust in his
God alone, to preach the Word, a howl went up to Heaven against the man
as a fanatic.
They said he was visionary, unpractical, mad–and all because he dared
to preach a sermon full of faith in God. I do avow myself fully in
sympathy with the views which he then enunciated. And I think, if the
power of God were once more to baptize the Church, we should have men
who would dare to trust in God instead of putting confidence in men.
Men who would act once more as if God's bare arm were quite enough to
lean on, as if faith were not fanaticism, as if confidence in an unseen
Being were not an unjustifiable enthusiasm.
I would to God the Church had once again a rich anointing of the
supernatural, and I believe she would have, if she would again act by
faith. And if you and I, Brothers and Sisters, would venture more upon
the naked promises of God, we should enter a world of wonders to which
as yet we are strangers. If we would but walk the waters of trouble by
a living faith, we should find them solid as marble beneath our feet.
If once again we could, like the world, be hung upon nothing but the
simple power and Providence of God, I am sure we should find it a
blessed and a safe way of living– glorious to God and honorable to
ourselves.
I would that once again the Master would raise up a race of heroes who
would be ridiculed by the world, and despised by mere professors. Men
who would act by faith in the God that lives and abides forever. Men
who venture on bold deeds where the weakness of the human arm would be
manifest, and the might of Deity revealed. Then should we see the
millennial age dawning upon us, and God, even our own God, would bless
us, and all the ends of the earth would fear
Him.
Dear Fiends, it is my business this morning to conduct you to
Jeremiah's place of confidence. Seeing that his case is hopeless,
knowing that man can do nothing at all for him, the Prophet resorts at
once to the God that created the Heaven and the earth and he exclaims,
"Nothing is too hard for You." I shall use my text in addressing three
characters–to stimulate the evangelist. To encourage the enquirer. And
to comfort the Believer.
I. TO STIMULATE THE EVANGELIST. And who is the evangelist? Every man
and woman who has tasted that the Lord is gracious should be an
Evangelist. We should, without exception, if we have been begotten
again into a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the
dead, tell to all around us what they must do to be saved. There should
be no dumb tongue in all our host. We should have no idle hand in the
harvest field, but everyone in his measure, whether man or woman,
should be doing something to extend the knowledge of our Lord and
Savior Jesus Christ.
And here, dear Brother in Christ, my friend and Fellow laborer, here is
your encouragement–the work is God's– and your success is in the hand
of Him who made the Heaven and the earth. Let me refresh your memory
with the old story of creation and I think you will perceive flashes of
light upon your work which will greatly encourage you in it.
1. Remember, in the first place, that the world was created from
nothing. You have often said, "Mine is a very hard task, for I address
myself to men in whom I see nothing hopeful. I batter against a granite
conscience, but it is not moved.
1 thunder forth the Law but the dead and callous heart has not been
stirred. I talk of the love of Christ but the eye is not suffused with
tears. I point to Hell but no terror follows. And to Heaven but no holy
desire is kindled! There is nothing in man that encourages me in my
work, and I am ready to give up."
Brother, come back with me to the world's creation. Of what did God
make the world? Was there any substance available to His hand out of
which to mold this round globe? What do the Scriptures say? Did He not
make it of nothing? You have never yet grasped the idea of nothing. The
eye cannot see it. It might peer into space, but space itself is
something. We look up, and yonder is the blue ether, though we know not
what it is. But the eye could not look on nothing. It would be blinded.
Nothing is a thing which the senses cannot grasp, and yet it is out of
this awful nothing that God made the sun and moon and stars and all
things that are.
Had He spoken before creation, there would have been no voice to answer
Him. Had He cried, there would have been no echo to repeat His voice.
Nothing was there anywhere, and yet He spoke and it was done. He
commanded and it stood fast! The case of the sinner is a parallel one.
You say there is nothing in the sinner? Yes, there is room here for a
recreating work. Inasmuch as that heart is now empty and void, there is
space for the Eternal God to come, and with His outstretched arm, to
create a new heart and a right spirit, and put His Grace where there
was none before.
If you had to convert the sinner, then, indeed, your task were as
hopeless as to create new orbs out of nothing. But, inasmuch as it is
not you, but your God who works all things, you may console yourselves
with this thought–He who has created all this marvelous earth and had
nothing to begin with, can give life, and fear, and hope, and faith,
and love, where there were no heavenly ingredients upon which He might
work. Take that, then, for your joy.
2. But you tell me you have none to help you or go forth in your work,
you have no patronage. "Ah, Sir," says one, "if I had a society at my
back. If I had at least a few warm-hearted friends that were banded
with me, that would give me some encouragement. But I have to go forth
alone–of the people there are none with me. I stand up to preach in a
village where all are cold and callous–where even my minister tells me
I am a rash, bold young man, and had better hold my tongue. I look to
the world and it hates me. I turn to the Church and it despises me. I
am too enthusiastic for the Church. I am too fanatical for the world.
What can I do? I am a man alone, and I have no helper!"
Brother, when God made the world–and the same God is with you–He
worked alone. With whom did He take counsel, and who instructed Him?
When He balanced the clouds and laid the foundations for the earth, who
taught Him the laws of gravity? Who has weighed the mountains in scales
and the hills in a balance? Was He not alone? No parlia- ment of angels
bowed at His right hand, for He created even them. No archangel bowed
his head and offered advice to the Most High, for the archangel,
himself, is but a creature. Cherubim and seraphim might sing when the
work was over, but they could not help in the work.
Look, now–what star did the angels make? What spot of earth is the
creation of an archangel? Look to the heavens above or to the deeps
beneath–where do you see you the work of any hand but God's–and that
hand a solitary one? The lonely worker out of emptiness creates
fullness, out of non-existence calls all things, and out of Himself
gets both the matter and the manner, the way and the how. His courts
need no revenue from abroad to sustain them, for from Himself, alone,
He draws the force which is needed.
Roll, then, your burden on your God if you are alone, for alone with
Him you have the best of company. If you had the hosts of Heaven with
you, what were you without your God? If all the Church were at your
back, terrible as an army with banners, your defeat were certain if the
Holy Spirit did not dwell in you. I tell you, Man, if all the saints
and angels in earth and Heaven should unite to help you in your
pursuit, yet, if your God should stand aloof from you, you would labor
in vain and spend your strength for nothing. But with Him you shall
prevail though all men forsake you–
"When He makes bare His arm, What shall His work withstand? When He His
people's cause defends, Who, who shall stay His hand?"
Let not this, then, trouble you, that you are alone. "Ah Lord God,
behold, You have made the Heaven and the earth by Your great power and
stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for You."
3. But you will reply to me, "My sorrow lies not so much in that I am
alone, as in the melancholy fact that I am very conscious of my own
weakness and of my want of adaptation for my peculiar work. I come back
from my Sunday's toil, saying, 'Who has believed my report and to whom
is the arm of the Lord revealed?' It seems to me as though I plowed a
rock, a rock so hard that it blunted the plowshare. I can make no
impression upon it. I have beaten the air.
"I seem to have lashed the waters. I fear that I have not the gifts
which are necessary, nor have I the Divine Grace that I should have.
Woe is me, for I am a man of uncircumcised lips! I am not sufficient
for these things. But rather I feel like Jonah, that I would flee into
Tarshish, that I might escape from the burden of the Lord against this
Nineveh." Yes. But Brother, come, cast your thought back again upon
creation. The Eternal needed no instruments in creation. What tools did
God use when He made the heavens and the earth? When the blacksmith
brings forth his work, he fashions it with hammer and anvil–upon what
anvil did God beat the red-hot matter of this earth when He formed it
and made it what it is?
I know that the engraver needs a sharp tool, upon which he bears with
all his might when he traces out the lines of beauty. But when God drew
this fair picture–this wondrous landscape of the heavens and the
earth–what engraving tools did He have? Where do you learn that He had
any instruments in His mighty hands? The carpenter has his plane, and
his hammer, and his awl–what plane, what hammer, and what awl did the
Eternal use? Had He anything beside His own hands?
Are not the heavens the works of His fingers, and the sun and the moon
His handiwork? So then, if God can work without instruments in the
creation of a world, He can surely work with a poor, and a mean
instrument, in the conversion of a sinner! When I think of myself, it
seems to me as if the Almighty Worker did take a straw into His hand
with which to penetrate a granite rock. Yet, I know, though it is a
straw, if it is in His hands, it would be able to pierce the globe and
thread the spheres as on a string.
I know that if the Lord takes in His hands but a smooth stone out of
the current, yet when He hurls it from His sling, it shall pierce even
a giant's brow. He saves not by man's strength, nor by human learning
and eloquence and talent. It is His strength and not the strength or
weakness of the instruments to which we must look. I pray you, turn
your eye away from yourself. What are you? A son of man, in whom is no
strength! A man that is born of woman–unclean in your origin and
unhallowed in your actions. Is there anything in you to give our God
one reason to make you a winner of souls?
But, inasmuch as you are nothing, you are all the better fitted to be
used by Him. He shall have all the more glory because of your weakness.
I pray you, therefore, say, with Paul, "I glory in infirmities, that
the power of God may rest on me." And let this be your song–"We have
this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may
be of
God and not of us." "Ah Lord God, behold, You have made the Heaven and
the earth by Your great power and stretched out arm, and there is
nothing too hard for You." You can do wonders even by the mean
instrument of sinful man.
4. Do I hear you still complain and say–"Alas, alas! It is little I
can say! When I speak, I can but give out the text and utter a few
plain words upon it–true and earnest, but not mighty. I cannot sound
out the rolling periods of a Robert Hall, nor wing my flight to the
majestic heights of a Chalmers. I have no power to plead with souls
with the tears and the seraphic zeal of a Whitfield. I can only tell
the tale of mercy simply and leave it there"?
Well, and did not God create all things by His naked Word? Was there
any eloquence when God spoke and it was done? "Let there be light," and
there was light. Can you perceive any trappings of oratory here? At
this day, is not the Gospel in itself the rod of Jehovah's strength? Is
it not the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believes? And
does not our Beloved Apostle constantly insist upon it, that it is not
with wisdom of words, nor with fineness of speech, lest the excellency
of the power should not be of God but of man? And lest man's faith
should stand in the wisdom of man and not in the power of the Most
High?
Go on, my Brother Evangelist, go on and speak God's Word still, for it
is the Word which is mighty through God to the pulling down of
strongholds. 'Twas His naked Word, unadorned, simple and plain, which
at the beginning made the Heaven and the earth. What can be more
sublimely simple than, "Let there be light"? Go and say in the same
simplicity, "Sinner, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ," and your
message shall be the voice of God from Heaven which shall not return
unto Him void but shall prosper in the thing whereunto He has sent it.
5. "Alas," I hear a Brother crying from some corner of the building,
"You are not aware of the darkness of the district in which I labor. I
toil among a benighted, unintelligent, ignorant people. I cannot expect
to see fruit there, toil as I may." Ah, Brother, and while you talk so,
you never will see any fruit, for God gives not great things to
unbelieving men. For the encouragement of your faith, let me remind you
that it is the God that made the heavens and the earth on whom you have
to lean–and what is that which was written of old: "The earth was
without form and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep."
How dense that darkness was, I cannot tell. That primeval darkness
which had never been stirred by a single ray of light. That dense,
thick seven-fold Egyptian darkness that had never known a sun or moon
and had never been pierced by light of star. And yet, primeval though
it was–I was about to call it eternal darkness but nothing can be
eternal but the Most High–yet there was but a Word–"Light be," and
light was. And do you think the darkness of your hearers is thicker
than this ancient darkness of the everlasting night? Even were it so,
still, God is Almighty. He has but to speak through you, has but to
make your word His Word and the films of blindness shall fall from the
eyes, and he that was wrapped in midnight shall be brought out into
marvelous day!
I would like to know where the dark place on the earth is, for there it
is that the missionaries should first be sent. O that we had faith to
do and dare for God, and undertake the hardest tasks first! But alas!
We are such cowards, we love fair fields of labor. We want promising
prospects. We will plant a Chapel where there is a likelihood that the
people will appreciate it. We send a missionary where we think there is
a probability that they will receive His Word. But shall we send the
man where, in our judgment, they will not receive Christ, and bid him
go where they will cast out His name as evil? This is to act by faith,
and this is what the heroism of the Gospel demands.
Gird up your loins, followers of Christ, seek for difficulties and
overcome them. If you are not greater than other men, how are you the
followers of the Divine Jesus? If you cannot go where others despair,
how dwells the Holy Spirit in you? If you will not risk where others
flee, where is the glorious majesty of your faith?
6. Further–and still to press the same blessed argument. "Yes," says
one, "but the men among whom I labor are so confused in their notions.
They put darkness for light and light for darkness. Their moral sense
is blunted. If I try to teach them, their ears are dull of hearing and
their hearts are given to slumber. Besides, they are full of vain
jangling and oppose themselves to the Truth of God. I endure much
contradiction of sinners, and they will not receive the Truth of God in
the love of it."
Yes, then, I bid you go back to the old creation that you may be
comforted concerning the new. Did not the Holy Spirit brood with
shadowing wings over the earth when it was chaos? Did He not bring out
order from confusion? Do you not remember how, on a certain day, the
Lord divided the waters that were above the firmament from those that
were under the firmament? Do you not know how He rolled together the
waters into their place and called the dry land, earth, and the
gathering together of the waters called He seas? What greater confusion
could there be? That incandescent mass which had once, perhaps, been
gas, and afterwards condensed itself into a globe of liquid fire, was
cooled with the blessed breath of God.
And when its crust grew hard and the tumultuous waters threw their
waves over the heads of Alpine heights. When the winds came roaring
forth and with carnival of hurricanes mingled sky and earth together.
When cloud, and hill, and sea, and air, were all one seething mass, the
blue sky appeared and clouds rolled upwards to their place and seas
came downwards to their beds. He spoke, and lo, the obedient waters
which had flung their white crests like the manes of wild horses
tossing in the wind, hastened to their appointed stable in the deep.
And there they remain, kept in check by no more mighty a bridle than a
belt of sand. Then the earth stood out all fair and glittering, for God
had done it. Disorder yielded to law. Darkness gave place to light.
Chaos turned to glorious order in His sight.
Well, now, the same marvels can be worked in your case, only take care
that you act for God and in God's strength, or else you might as well
bid a stormy sea be still, as you command the confused notions of men
to find rest and peace in Christ. He that made the heavens and the
earth, even the everlasting God, can move your difficulty away–only
trust in Him and He shall bring it to pass.
7. "Ah," you say, "they are all so dead, so dead!" Yes, Sir, and do you
not remember how the waters brought forth life abundantly–fish and
fowl that should fly in the midst of Heaven? And how the earth–yes,
this dull, dusky earth– brought forth the creeping things and the
cattle after its kind? And how at last, man was made out of the very
dust of the earth? O Sir, God can readily give life to the dead nature
of evil men! You have but to rely on Him, and the quickening influence
shall descend and you shall live.
8. See how fair and glorious this earth is now! Well might the morning
stars shout together and the sons of God shout for joy! And do you
think that God cannot make as fair a heart in man, and make it bud and
blossom and teem with hallowed life? Do you think that Christ cannot
make the angels sing even a nobler song of joy over a soul that is
washed in blood, and a spirit robed in white, that shall praise God and
the Lamb forever? And all this He can do through you and me, my
Brother!
O, let us labor, then! Let us work and toil. Let us think difficulties,
delights, and troubles, but trifles. Let us lean upon Him that made the
heavens and the earth, for there is nothing too hard for Him. Unbelief
will make you unhappy. It will cause your service to be a stench in the
nostrils of the Most High. Unbelief will prevent God from blessing you.
"He could not do many mighty works there because of their unbelief."
"If you will believe all things are possible to him that believes." And
if you will act as one who sees Him that is invisible, you shall see
greater things than these, and God shall make your path to be as the
shining light that shines more and more unto the perfect day.
II. In this large assembly, there are no doubt, many to be found who
are really desirous to be saved, but are full of doubts and
difficulties and questionings. I speak, then, TO THE ANXIOUS.
May I cut a knot in a moment by making one observation. Remember, my
troubled Friend, that the question about your salvation is not whether
you can save yourself, for that is answered in a thundering negative
from God's throne– You cannot! "By the works of the Law shall no flesh
living be justified." The question is–Can God save you? And if you
will put it on that ground, I think your answer need not be a very
difficult one.
Can God save you? That is the question. Now I know your unbelief will
suggest first the difficulty that your mind is so dark. "I cannot see
Christ," says one. "I am in such trouble of mind, I cannot understand
as I would. I feel benighted. I am like the inhabitants of Zebulon and
Napthali, a people that sat in darkness and in the valley of the shadow
of death. I cannot see–it is all darkness, thick as night with me."
Yes, but then there is the question–Can God roll this night away? And
the answer comes, He who said, "Let there be light," and there was
light, can certainly repeat the miracle. Another of your doubts will
arise from the fact that you feel so weak–
"I would, but cannot sing.
I would, but cannot pray.
For Satan meets me when I try,
And frights my soul away.
I would, but can't repent,
Though I endeavor often.
This stony heart can never relent
Till Jesus makes it soft.
I would, but cannot love,
Though wooed by love Divine.
No arguments have power to move
A soul so base as mine.
I would, but cannot rest
In God's most holy will.
I know what He appoints is best,
Yet murmur at it still.
could I but believe! Then all would easy be.
1 would, but cannot–Lord, relieve– My help must come from You!"
I cannot do what I would. I would leave sin, but still I fall into it.
I would lay hold on Christ, but I cannot. Then comes the question–Can
God do it? And we answer, He who made the heavens and the earth without
a helper, can certainly save you when you can not help yourself.
Let me remind you that no part of the world helped its own creation. It
is absolutely certain that no mountain uplifted its own head. It is
quite clear that no star appointed its own path of brightness. No
flower can lift its head and say, "I created my own loveliness." No
eagle that cuts the air can say, "I gave myself my soaring wings and my
piercing eyes." God has made them all. And so, Sinner, you who are
troubled because of your impotency–He wants nor needs no power in you.
He gives power to the weak, and to them that have no might He increases
strength. Rest upon God in Christ, and cast yourself on Him, and He
will do it all.
"Yes," you say again, "but I am in such an awful state of mind–there
is such a confusion within me–Hell is opened from beneath and the
sluices of my soul's sorrows are drawn up. Grief streams forth in
rivers from my eyes. I cannot tell what is the matter with me. My heart
is like a battleground torn up with the prancing of the horses. I know
not what I am. I cannot understand myself." Pause, I pray, and answer
me, Was not the world just so of old, and did not all the beauty of all
lands rise out of this dire confusion? Cannot God, then, do this for
you, and give you a peace that passes all understanding? I beseech you,
my dear distressed Friend, trust in Christ, for He can hush the
hurricane to slumber, and lay the storm to sleep.
Let me remind you, O Enquirer, that there is more hope in your case
than there was in the creation of the world, for in the creation there
was nothing done beforehand. The plan was drawn, no doubt, but no
material was provided, no stores laid in to effect the purpose. We read
not that God had piled up a mass of nebulae that He worked out into
worlds. No, He began the work and finished it without any previous
preparations. But in your case the work is done already, beforehand. On
the bloody tree Christ has carried sin. In the grave He has vanquished
death. In His resurrection He has rent forever the bonds of the grave.
In His ascension He has opened Heaven to all Believers.
And in His intercession He is pleading still for them that trust Him.
It is finished, remember, so that it is easier to save you than to make
a world, for the world had nothing prepared for it. There was nothing
ready–but here everything is ready and all you are bid to do is to
come and sit at a feast that is already spread–to wear a garment that
is already woven, to wash in a bath that is already filled with blood.
Sinner, what do you say? Will you believe in God's Anointed or not?
Yet again, remember that God has done something more in you than there
was done before He made the world. Emptiness did not cry, "Oh, God,
create me." Darkness could not pray, "Oh, Lord, give me light."
Confusion could not cry, "Oh, God, ordain me into order." But see what
He has done for you! He has taught you to cry, "Create in me a clean
heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." He has made you
plead, "Lighten my darkness, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep of death."
He has taught you to say, "I have gone astray, like a lost sheep, seek
Your servant." See, Friend, the grass cannot pray for dew, and yet it
falls–and shall you cry for it, and God withhold it?
The thirsty earth has no voice to ask for showers, and yet they
descend, and will God let you cry and not answer you? Look at the
forests in winter, they cannot ask for leaves, and yet the verdure
comes in its season. Nor can the corn entreat for sunshine, and yet God
gives good things to all in due season. And you, made in His own image,
will He let you cry and not hear you? When He has Himself said, "As I
live, says the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of him that
dies but would rather that he should turn unto Me and live"?
Yet once again, and here is a rich thought of comfort–it was in God's
power to make the world or not, just as He pleased. No promise bound
Him. No Covenant made it imperative upon Him that His arm should be
outstretched. Sinner, the Lord is not bound to save you except from His
own promise–and that promise is–"He that calls upon the name of the
Lord shall be saved." He cannot, He cannot withhold saving you if you
call upon Him. His Covenant has bound Him to be merciful to those who
confess their sins. He is merciful and just to forgive us our sins and
to save us from all unrighteousness. This, then, is a case that
glistens with brighter light than did the case of the uncreated world.
And as, of His own will, without pledge or Covenant, He made the earth
what it is–most surely now He has promised it–He will save you if you
trust in Jesus.
Once more here. It is certain that there is more room in your case for
God to glorify Himself, than there was in the making of the world. In
making the world He glorified His wisdom and He magnified His power.
But He could not show His mercy. He could have no mercy upon floods and
mountains, upon cattle and flying fowl. There was kindness, but no
mercy, for they had not sinned. Now, here in your case, there is room
for every attribute of God, for His loving-kindness, His faithfulness,
His veracity, His power, His Grace. Yours is a hopeful case, because it
is hopeless to you.
There is room for God, because, certainly, there is no space for you.
You can do nothing. It is your extremity, and it is, therefore, God's
opportunity. What would I give this morning if I could turn one tearful
eye away from itself to Christ! I know how foolish we all are that we
all look to flesh and blood. Turn your eyes, Sinner, to the Cross where
the Savior bleeds. Rest on Him–He, without whom was not anything made
that was made, died for you. He who was in the beginning with God and
who was God, works out your redemption. Trust Him and the work is done.
Rest on Him and your soul is brought today into the realm of safety,
and you have passed from death unto life.
I will tell you a little anecdote which will show how foolish we are,
when we depend on self. I have heard that lately, a ship on her way to
Australia met with a very terrible storm and sprung a leak. And a
little while after, a hurricane overtook her. There happened to be a
gentleman on board, of the most nervous temperament that can be
imagined, whose rambling tongue and important air were calculated to
alarm all the passengers. When the storm came on, the captain, who knew
what damage had been done, managed to get near him.
And the gentleman said to the captain, "What an awful storm. I am
afraid we shall go to the bottom, for I hear the leak is very bad."
"Well," said the captain, "as you seem to know it, and perhaps the
others do not, you had better not tell them, lest you should dispirit
my men. Perhaps, as it is a very bad case, you would lend us your
valuable aid and we may possibly get through it. Would you have the
goodness to stand here and hold hard on this rope? Pray do not leave
it, but pull as hard as ever you can till I tell you to let it go."
So our friend clenched his fists and put his feet stiff down and kept
on holding this rope with all his might for several hours. The storm
abated. The ship was brought right and our friend let go of his rope.
He expected a deputation would bring him the thanks of all the
passengers but they were unconscious of his merits. He thought at least
there would be a contribution for a trophy or plaque for what he had
done but no plaque came. Even the captain did not seem very grateful,
so he ventured, very distantly and in a roundabout style to hint that
such valuable services as his, having saved the vessel, ought to be
rewarded with some few words of gratitude, at any rate. He was shocked
to hear the captain say, "What? Do you think you saved the vessel? Why,
I gave you that rope to hold to keep you out of the way! You did a
world of mischief till I got you quiet."
So now, mark you, there are some people who are wanting to do so much.
They think they can certainly save themselves, and there they stand,
holding the rope with their clenched fists and their feet tightly
fixed, while they are really doing no more than our poor friend. If
ever you get to Heaven, you will find that everything you did towards
your own salvation was about as useful as what this man did when he was
holding the rope–the safety of the vessel lies somewhere else, and not
in you. And that what is wanted with you is just to get you out of the
way–and when you are out of the way, and are made a fool of, then
Christ comes in and shows His wisdom. While, perhaps, all the while you
are bemoaning yourself that you should be so badly treated, it would
not have been possible for you to be saved unless you had been put out
of the way, that Almighty God might do the work from first to last.
III. And now I have to conclude with one or two words of ENCOURAGEMENT
TO BELIEVERS.
And so, my Brothers in Christ, you are greatly troubled are you? It is
a common lot with us all. And so you have nothing on earth to trust to
now, and are going to be cast on your God alone? Your vessel is on her
beam-ends, and now there is nothing for you but just to be rolled on
the Providence and care of God. What a blessed place to be rolled on!
Happy storm that wrecks a man on such a Rock as this! O blessed
hurricane that drives the soul to God, and God alone! On some few
occasions I have had troubles which I could not tell to any but my God
and I thank God that I have, for I learned more of my Lord then than at
any other time.
There is no getting at our God sometimes because of the multitude of
our friends. But when a man is so poor, so friendless, so helpless that
he has nothing, he flies into his Father's arms and how blessedly he is
clasped there! So that I say again, happy trouble that drives you to
your Father! Blessed storm that wrecks you on the Rock of Ages!
Glorious billow that washes you upon this heavenly shore! And now you
have nothing but your God to trust to, what are you going to do? To
fret? To whine? O, I pray you do not thus dishonor your Lord and
Master! Now, play the man, play the man of God. Show the world that
your God is worth ten thousand worlds to you.
Show rich men how rich you are in your poverty when the Lord God is
your Helper. Show the strong man how strong you are in your weakness
when underneath you are the everlasting arms. Now Man, now Man, now is
your time to glorify God! You know there was no room for your courage
before, but now there is space for feats of faith and valiant exploits.
Our present mode of warfare bids fair to annihilate courage altogether,
for now men fight at such a distance that the hand-to-hand fight is
impossible. But in those brave days of old, when the troops of Rupert
and of Cromwell met hand-to-hand, when uphill the Puritanical legions
spurred their horses against the hosts of "the man of blood"–then
there was room for bravery!
Then men could fight not at two miles' distance but foot-to-foot. Then
there was room for the solitary bravo to lead the way against a
multitude. Then the scaling ladder clicked on the top of the wall and
the brave man of the forlorn hope went up it step by step, with his
cutlass between his teeth, until he reached the top. Then men could
make themselves famous. But now, what with iron ships, and large
Armstrong guns, there is hardly room for men to be courageous. But,
Believer, you, in your lonely distress, have returned to "the brave
days of old."
When you had your regular income from the Consuls, when your business
prospered, when you had your children and your friends about you, why
there was no room for you to perform heroic deeds of resignation and
trust! But now you are stripped, now at it, for your foes are before
you. When the Duke of Wellington asked a soldier what kind of dress he
would like to wear if he had to fight another Waterloo–"Please, Your
Grace," said the man, "I'd like to fight in my shirtsleeves." Well now,
you have come to that. You have nothing now to encumber you. You can
fight in your shirtsleeves, and now is the time to win the victory. Be
strong and very courageous, and the Lord your God shall certainly, as
surely as He built the heavens and the earth, glorify Himself in your
weakness and magnify His might in the midst of your distress.
The Lord help us to lean wholly on Him and never on ourselves. And let
His name be had in remembrance while the earth endures. Amen and Amen.