Everybody's Sermon
A Sermon
(No. 206)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, July 25, 1858, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens
"I have multiplied visions, and used similitudes."–Hosea 12:10.
WHEN THE LORD would win his people Israel from their iniquities, he did
not leave a stone unturned, but gave them precept upon precept, line
upon line, here a little and there a little. He taught them sometimes
with a rod in his hand, when he smote them with sore famine and
pestilence, and invasion; at other times he sought to win them with
bounties, for he multiplied their corn and their wine and their oil,
and he laid no famine upon them. But all the teachings of his
providence were unavailing, and whilst his hand was stretched out,
still they continued to rebel against the Most High. He hewed them by
the prophets. He sent them first one, and then another: the golden
mouthed Isaiah was followed by the plaintive Jeremy; while at his heels
in quick succession, there followed many far-seeing, thunder-speaking
seers. But though prophet followed prophet in quick succession, each of
them uttering the burning words of the Most High, yet they would have
none of his rebukes, but they hardened their hearts, and went on still
in their iniquities. Among the rest of God's agencies for striking
their attention and their conscience, was the use of similitudes. The
prophets were accustomed not only to preach, but to be themselves as
signs and wonders to the people. For instance, Isaiah named his child,
Maher-shalal-hash-baz, that they might know that the judgment of the
Lord was hastening upon them; and this child was ordained to be a sign,
"for before the child shall have knowledge to cry, my father and my
mother, the riches of Damascus and the spoil of Samaria shall be taken
away before the king of Assyria." On another occasion, the lord said
unto Isaiah, "Go and loose the sackcloth from off thy loins, and put
off thy shoe from thy foot. And he did so, walking naked and barefoot.
And the Lord said, "Like as my servant Isaiah hath walked naked and
barefoot three years for a sign and wonder upon Egypt and upon
Ethiopia; so shall the king of Assyria lead away the Egyptians
prisoners, and the Ethiopians captives young and old, naked and
barefoot, to the shame of Egypt." Hosea, the prophet, himself had to
teach the people by a similitude. You will notice in the first chapter
a most extraordinary similitude. The Lord said to him, "Go, take unto
thee a wife of whoredoms; for the land hath committed great whoredom,
departing from the Lord," and he did so; and the children begotten by
this: marriage, were made as signs and wonders to the people. As for
his first son he was to be called Jezreel, "for yet a little while, and
I will avenge the blood of Jezreel upon the house of Jehu." As for his
daughter, she was to be called Lo-ruhamah "for I will no more have
mercy upon the house of Israel; but I will utterly take them away."
Thus by divers significant signs, God made the people think. He made
his prophets do strange things, in order that the people might talk
about what he had done, and then the meaning which God would have them
learn, should come home more powerfully to their consciences, and be
the better remembered.
Now it struck me that God is every day preaching to us by similitudes.
When Christ was on earth he preached in parables, and, though he is in
heaven now, he is preaching in parables to-day. Providence is God's
sermon. The things which we see about us are God's thoughts and God's
words to us; and if we were but wise there is not a step that we take,
which me should not find to be full of mighty instruction. O ye sons of
men! God warns you every day by his own word; he speaks to you by the
lips of his servants, his ministers; but, besides this, by similitudes
he addresses you at every time. He leaves no stone unturned to bring
his wandering children to himself, to make the lost sheep of the house
of Israel return to the fold. In addressing myself to you this morning,
I shall endeavor to show how every day, and every season of the year,
in every place, and in every calling which you are made to exercise,
God is speaking to you by similitudes.
I. EVERY DAY God speaks to you by similitudes. Let us begin with the
early morning. This morning you awakened and you found yourselves
unclothed, and you began to array yourselves in your garments. Did not
God, if you would but have heard him, speak to you by a similitude? Did
he not as much as say to thee, "Sinner, what will it be when thy vain
dreams shall have ended, if thou shouldst wake up in eternity to find
thyself naked? Wherewithal shalt thou array thyself? If in this life
thou dost cast away the wedding garment, the spotless righteousness of
Jesus Christ, what wilt thou do when the trump of the archangel shall
awaken thee from thy clay cold couch in the grave, when the heavens
shall be blazing with lightnings, and the solid pillars of the earth
shall quake with the terror of God's thunder? How wilt thou be able to
dress thyself then? Canst thou confront thy Maker without a covering
for thy nakedness? Adam dared not, and canst thou attempt it? Will he
not affright thee with his terrors? Will he not cast thee to the
tormentors that thou mayest be burned up with unquenchable fire,
because thou didst forget the clothing of thy soul while thou wast in
this place of probation?
Well, you have put on your dress, and you come down to your families,
and your Children gather round your table for the morning meal. If you
have been wise God has been preaching to you by a similitude then: he
seemed to say to thee–"Sinner, to whom should a child go but to his
father? And where should be his resort when he is hungry but to his
father's table?" And as you feed your children, if you had an ear to
hear, the Lord was speaking to you and saying, "How willingly would I
feed you! How would I give you of the bread of heaven and cause you to
eat angels, food! But thou hast spent thy money for that which is not
bread, and thy labor for that which not. Hearken diligently unto me,
and eat ye that which is good, let thy soul delight itself in fatness."
Did he not stand there as a Father, and say, "Come my child, come to my
table. The precious blood of my Son has been shed to be thy drink, and
he has given his body to be thy bread. Why wilt thou wander hungry and
thirsty? Come to my table O, my child, for I love my children to be
there and to feast upon the mercies I have provided."
You left your home and you went to your business. I knew not in what
calling your time was occupied–of that we will say more before we
shall have gathered up the ends of your similitudes this morning–but
you spend your time in your work; and surely, beloved, All the time
that your fingers were occupied, God was speaking to your heart, if the
ears of your soul had not been closed, so that you were heavy and ready
to slumber, and could not hear his voice And when the sun was shining
in high heaven, and the hour of noon was reached, mightest thou not
bare lifted up thine eye and remembered that if thou hadst committed
thy soul to God, thy path should have been as the shining light which
shineth more and more unto the perfect day? Did he not speak to thee
and say, "I brought the sun from the darkness of the east; I have
guided him and helped him to ascend the slippery steeps of heaven and
now he standeth in his zenith, like a giant that hath run his race, and
hath attained his goal. And even so will I do with thee. Commit thy
ways unto me and I will make thee full of light, and thy path shall be
as brightness, and thy life shall be as the noon-day: thy sun shall not
go down by day, but the days of thy mourning shall be ended, for the
Lord God shall be thy light, and thy salvation."
And the sun began to set, and the shadows of evening were drawing on,
and did not the Lord then remind thee of thy death? Suns have their
setting, and men have their graves. When the shadows of the evening
were stretched out, and when the darkness began to gather, did he not
say unto thee, "O man, take heed of thine eventide, for the light of
the sun shall not endure for ever? There are twelve hours wherein a man
shall work, but when they are past there is no work nor device in the
night of that grave whither we are all hastening. Work while ye have
the light, for the night cometh wherein no man can work. Therefore,
whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might." Look I
say to the sun at his setting and observe the rainbow hues of glory
with which he paints the sky, and mark how he appears to increase his
orb as he nears the horizon. O man kneel down and learn this
prayer,–"Lord, let my dying be like the setting of the sun; help me,
if clouds and darkness are round about me, to light them up with
splendor; surround me, O my God, with a greater brightness at my death
than I have shown in all my former life. If my death-bed shall be the
miserable pallet, and if I expire in some lone cot yet nevertheless,
grant, O Lord, that my poverty may be gilded with the light that thou
shalt give me, that I may exhibit the grandeur of a Christian's
departure at my dying hour." God speaketh to thee, O man, by
similitude, from the rising to the setting of the sun.
And now, thou hast lit thy candle and thou sittest down; thy children
are about thee. and the Lord sends thee a little preacher to preach
thee a sermon, if thou wilt hear. It is a little gnat, and it flieth
round and round about thy candle, and delighteth itself in the light
thereof, till, dazzled and intoxicated, it begins to singe its wings
and burn itself. Thou seekest to put it away, but it dashes into the
flame, and having burned itself it can scarcely fan itself through the
air again. But as soon as it has recruited its strength again, mad-like
it dashes to its death and destruction. Did not the Lord say to thee,
"Sinner, thou art doing this also, thou lovest the light of sin; oh!
that thou wert wise enough to tremble at the fire of sin, for he who
delights in the sparks thereof, must be consumed in the burning!" Did
not the hand seem to be like the hand of thy Almighty, who would put
thee away from thine own destruction, and who rebukes and smites thee
by his providence, as much as to say to thee, "Poor silly man be not
thine own destruction." And whilst thou seest perhaps with a little
sorrow the death of the foolish insect, might not that forewarn thee of
thine awful doom. when, after having been dazzled with the giddy round
of this world's joys, thou shalt at last plunge into the eternal
burning and lose thy soul, so madly, for nothing but the enjoyments of
an hour? Doth not God preach to thee thus?
And now it is time for thee to retire to thy rest. Thy door is bolted,
and thou hast fast closed it. Did not that remind thee of that saying,
"When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut-to the
door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door saying,
Lord, Lord, open unto us;' and he shall answer and say unto you, I know
not whence you are?" in vain shall be your knocking then, when the bars
of immutable justice shall have fast closed the gates of mercy on
mankind; when the hand of the Almighty Master shall have shut his
children within the gates of Paradise, and shall have left the thief
and the robber in the cold chilly darkness, the outer darkness, where
there shall be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Did he not
preach to thee by similitude? Even then, when thy finger was on the
bolt, might not his finger have been on thy heart?
And at night time thou wast startled. The watchman in the street awoke
thee with the cry of the hour of the night, or his tramp along the
street. O man, if thou hadst ears to hear, thou mightest have heard in
the steady tramp of the policeman the cry, "Behold, the bridegroom
cometh; go ye out to meet him." And every sound at midnight that did
awaken thee from thy slumber and startle thee upon thy bed, might seem
to forewarn thee of that dread trump of the archangel which shall
herald the coming of the Son of Man, in the day he shall judge both the
quick and the dead, according to my gospel. O that ye were wise, that
ye understood this, for all the day long, from dewy morning till the
darkness of the eventide, and the thick darkness of midnight, God
evermore doth preach to man–he preacheth to him by similitudes.
II. And now we turn the current of our thoughts, and observe that ALL
THE YEAR round God doth preach to man by similitudes. It was but a
little while ago that we were sowing our seeds in our garden, and
scattering the corn over the broad furrows. God had sent the seed time,
to remind us that we too are like the ground, and that he is scattering
seed in our hearts each day. And did he not say to us, "Take heed, O
man, lest thou shouldest be like the highway whereon the seed was
scattered, the fowls of the air devoured it. Take heed that thou be not
like the ground that had its basement on a hard and arid rock, lest
this seed should spring up and by-and-bye should wither away when the
sun arose, because it had not much depth of earth. And be thou careful,
O son of man, that thou art not like the ground where the seed did
spring up, but the thorns sprang up and choked it; but be thou like the
good ground whereon the seed did fall, and it brought forth fruit, some
twenty, some fifty, and some a hundred fold."
We thought, when are were sowing the seed, that we expected one day to
see it spring up again. Was there not a lesson for us there? Are not
our actions all of them as seeds? Are not our little words like grains
of mustard seed? Is not our daily conversation like a handful of the
corn that we scatter over the soil? And ought we not to remember that
our words shall live again, that our acts are as immortal as ourselves,
that after having laid a little while in the dust to be matured, they
shall certainly arise? The black deeds of sin shall bear a dismal
harvest of damnation; and the right deeds which God's grace has
permitted us to do, shall, through his mercy and not through our merit,
bring forth a bounteous harvest in the day when they who sow in tears
slowly reap in joy. Doth not seed-time preach to thee, O man, and say,
"Take heed that thou sowest good seed in thy field."
And when the seed sprang up, and the season had changed, did God cease
then to preach? Ah! no. First the blade, then the ear, and then the
full corn in the ear, had each its homily. And when at last the harvest
came, how loud the sermon which it preached to us! It said to us, "O
Israel, I have set a harvest for thee. Whatsoever a man soweth that
shall he also reap. He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap
corruption, and he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap
life everlasting." If you have an opportunity to journey into the
country during the next three weeks, you will, if your heart is rightly
attuned, find a marvellous mass of wisdom couched in a cornfield. Why I
could not attempt for a moment to open the mighty mines of gabled
treasure which are hidden there. Think, beloved, of the joy of thy
harvest. How does it tell us of the joy of the redeemed if we, being
saved, shall at last be carried like shocks of corn fully ripe into the
garner. Look at the ear of corn when it is fully ripe, and see how it
bendeth toward the earth! It held its head erect before, but in getting
ripe how humble does it become! And how does God speak to the sinner
and tell him, that if he would be fit for the great harvest he must
drop his head and cry "Lord hare mercy upon me a sinner." And when we
see the weeds spring up amongst wheat, have we not our Master's parable
over again of the tares among the wheat; and are we not reminded of the
great day of division, when he shall say to the reaper, "Gather first
the tares and bind them in bundles, to burn them; but gather the wheat
into my barn." O yellow field of corn, thou preaches well to me, for
thou safest to me, the minister, "Behold, the fields are ripe already
to the harvest. Work thou thyself; and pray thou the Lord of the
harvest to send forth more laborers into the harvest." And it preaches
well to thee, thou man of years, it tells thee that the sickle of death
is sharp, and that thou must soon fall, but it cheers and comforts
thee, for it tells thee that the wheat shall be safely housed, and it
bids thee hope that thou shalt be carried to thy Master's garner to be
his joy and his delight for ever. Hark, then, to the rustling eloquence
of the yellow harvest.
In a very little time, my beloved, you will see the birds congregated
upon the housetops in great multitudes, and after they have whirled
round and round and round as if they were taking their last sight of
Old England, or rehearsing their supplications before they launched
away, you will see them, with their leader in advance, speed across the
purple sea to live in sunnier climes, while winter's cold hand shall
strip their native woods. And doth not God seem to preach to you,
sinners, when these birds are taking their flight? Do you not remember
how he himself puts it? "Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her
appointed times; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow,
observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment
of the Lord." Doth he not tell us that there is a time of dark winter
coming upon this world; a time of trouble, such as there has been none
like it, neither shall be any more; a time, when all the joys of sin
shall be nipped and frost-bitten, and when the summer of man's estate
shall be turned into the dark winter of his disappointment? And does he
not say to you, "Sinner fly away–away–away to the goodly land, where
Jesus dwells! Away from self and sin! Away from the city of
destruction! Away from the whirl of pleasures, and from the tossing to
and fro of trouble! Haste thee, like a bird to its rest! Fly thou
across the sea of repentance and faith and build thy nest in the land
of mercy, that when the great day of vengeance shall pass o'er this
world, thou mayest be safe in the clefts of the rock."
I remember well, how once God preached to me by a similitude in the
depth of winter The earth had been black, and there was scarcely a
green thing or a flower to be seen. As you looked across the field,
there was nothing but blackness–bare hedges and leafless trees, and
black, black earth, wherever you looked. On a sudden God spake and
unlocked the treasures of the snow, and white flakes descended until
there was no blackness to be seen, and all was one sheet of dazzling
whiteness. It was at that time that I was seeking the Saviour, and it
was then I found him; and I remember well that sermon which I say,
before me: "Come now, and let us reason together; though your sins be
as scarlet they shall be as snow, though they be red like crimson they
shall be whiter than wool." Sinner! thy heart is like that black
ground; thy soul is like that black tree and hedgerow, without leaf or
blossom. God's grace is like the white snow–it shall fall upon thee
till thy doubting heart shall glitter in whiteness of pardon, and thy
poor black soul shall be covered with the spotless purity of the Son of
God. He seems to say to you, "Sinner, you are black, but I am ready to
forgive you; I will wrap thy heart in the ermine of my Son's
righteousness, and with my Son's own garments on, thou shalt be holy as
the Holy One."
And the wind of to-day, as it comes howling through the trees,–many of
which have been swept down,–reminds us of the Spirit of the Lord,
which, "bloweth where it listeth," and when it pleaseth; and it tells
us to seek earnestly after that divine and mysterious influence, which
alone can speed us on our voyage to heaven; which shall cast down the
trees of our pride, and tear up by the roots the goodly cedars of our
self confidence; which shall shake our refuges of lies about our ears,
and make us look to Him who is the only covert from the storm, the only
shelter when "the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the
wall."
Ay, and when the heat is coming down, and we hide ourselves beneath the
shadow of the tree, an angel standeth there, and whispereth, "Look
upwards, sinner, as thou hidest thyself from the burning rays of Sol
beneath the tree; so there is One who is like the apple tree among the
trees of the wood, and he bids thee come and take shadow beneath his
branches, for he will screen thee from the eternal vengeance of God,
and give thee shelter when the fierce heat of God's anger shall beat
upon the heads of wicked men."
III. And now again, EVERY PLACE to which you journey, every animal that
you see, every spot you visit, has a sermon for you. Go into your
farm-yard, and your ox and your ass shall preach to you. "The ox
knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but Israel doth not
know, my people doth not consider." The very dog at your heels may
rebuke you. He follows his master; a stranger will he not follow, for
he knows not the voice of a stranger, but ye forsake your God and turn
aside unto your crooked ways. Look at the chicken by the side of yonder
pond, and let it rebuke your ingratitude. It drinks, and every sip it
takes it lifts its head to heaven and thanks the giver of the rain for
the drink afforded to it; while thou eatest and drinkest, and there is
no blessing pronounced at thy meals and no thanksgiving bestowed upon
thy Father for his bounty. The very horse is checked by the bridle, and
the whip is for the ass; but thy God hath bridled thee by his
commandments, and he hath chastened by his providence, yet art thou
more obstinate than the ass or the mule; still thou wilt not run in his
commandments, but thou turnest aside, wilfully and wickedly following
out the perversity of thine own heart. Is it not so? Are not these
things true of you? If you are still without God and without Christ,
must not these things strike your conscience? Would not any one of them
lead you to tremble before the Most High, and beg of him that he would
give you a new heart and a right spirit, and that no longer you might
be as the beasts of the field, but might be a man full of the Divine
Spirit, living in obedience to your Creator.
And in journeying, you have noticed how often the road is rough with
stones, and you have murmured because of the way over which you have to
tread; and have you not thought that those stones were helping to make
the road better, and that the worst piece of road when mended with hard
stones would in time become smooth and fit to travel on? And did you
think how often God has mended you; how many stones of affliction he
has cast upon you; how many waggon-loads of warnings you have had
spread out upon you, and you have been none the better, but have only
grown worse, and when he comes to look on you to see whether your life
has become smooth, whether the highway of your moral conduct has become
more like the king's highway of righteousness, how might he say, "Alas!
I have repaired this road, but it is none the better; let it alone
until it becomes a very bog and quagmire, until he who keeps it thus
ill shall have perished in it himself."
And thou hast gone by the sea-side, and has not the sea talked to thee?
Inconstant as the sea art thou, but thou art not one-half so obedient.
God keeps the sea, the mountain-waved sea, in check with a belt of
sand; he spreads the sand along the sea-shore and even the sea observes
the landmark. "Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at
my presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a
perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof
toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though they roar, yet can
they not pass over it?" It is so. Let thy conscience prick thee. The
sea obeys Him from shore to shore, and yet thou wilt not have him to be
thy God, but thou sayest, "Who is the Lord that I should fear him? Who
is Jehovah that I should acknowledge his sway?"
Hear the mountains and the hills, for they have a lesson. Such is God.
He abideth for ever, think not that he shall change.
And now, sinner, I entreat thee to open thine eyes as thou goest home
today and if nothing that I have said shall smite thee, perhaps God
shall put into thy way something that shall give thee a text, from
which thou mayest preach to thyself a sermon that never shall be
forgotten. Oh! if I had but time, and thought, and words, I would bring
the things that are in heaven above, and in the earth beneath and in
the waters under the earth, and I would set them all before thee, and
they should every one give their warning before they had passed from
thine inspection, and I know that their voice would be, "Consider the
Lord thy Creator and fear and serve him, for he hath made thee, and
thou hast not made thyself;" we obey him, and we find it is our beauty
to be obedient, and our glory ever to move according to his will; and
thou shalt find it to be the same." Obey him while thou mayest, lest
haply when this life is over all these things shall rise up against
thee, and the stone in the street shall clamor for the condemnation,
and the beam out of the wall shall bear witness against thee, and the
beasts of the field shall be thine accusers, and the valley and hill
shall begin to curse thee. O man, the earth is made for thy warning.
God would have thee he saved. He hath set hand-posts everywhere in
nature and in providence, pointing thee the way to the City of Refuge,
and if thou art but wise thou needest not miss thy way; it is but thy
wilful ignorance and thy neglect that shall cause thee to run on in the
way of error, for God hath made the way straight before thee and given
thee every encouragement to run therein.
IV. And now, lest I should weary you, I will just notice that every man
in his CALLING has a sermon preached to him.
The farmer has a thousand sermons; I have brought them out already; let
him open wide his eye, and he shall see more. He need not go an inch
without hearing the songs of angels, and the voice of spirits wooing
him to righteousness, for all nature round about him has a tongue given
to it, when man hath an ear to hear.
There are others, however, engaged in a business which allows them to
see but very little of nature, and yet even there God has provided them
with a lesson. There is the baker who provides us with our bread. He
thrusts his fuel into the oven, and he causeth it to glow with heat,
and puts bread therein. Well may he if he be an ungodly man, tremble as
he stands at the oven's mouth, for there is a text which he may well
comprehend as he stands there: "For the day cometh that shall burn as
an oven, and all the proud and they that do wickedly shall be as
stubble; they shall be consumed." Men ingather them in bundles and cast
them into the fire, and they are burned. Out of the oven's mouth comes
a hot and burning warning, and the man's heart might melt like wax
within him if he would but regard it.
Then see the butcher. How doth the beast speak to him? He sees the lamb
almost lick his knife, and the bullock goes unconsciously to the
slaughter. How might he think every time that he smites the unconscious
animal, (who knows nothing of death), of his own. doom. Are we not, all
of us who are without Christ, fattening for the slaughter? Are we not
more foolish than the bullock, for doth not the wicked man follow his
executioner, and walk after his own destroyer into the very chambers of
hell? When we see a drunkard pursuing his drunkenness, or an unchaste
man running in the way of licentiousness, is he not as an ox going to
the slaughter, until a dart smite him through the liver? Hath not God
sharpened his knife and made ready his axe that the fatlings of this
earth may he killed, when he shall say to the fowls of the air and the
beasts of the field, "Behold, I have made a feast of vengeance for you,
and ye shall feast upon the blood of the slain, and make yourselves
drunken with the streams thereof?" Ay butcher, there is a lecture for
you in your trade; and your business may reproach you.
And ye whose craft is to sit still all day, making shoes far our feet,
the lapstone in your lap may reproach you, for your heart, perhaps, is
as hard as that. Have you not been smitten as often as your lapstone,
and yet your heart has never been broken or melted? And what shall the
Lord say to you at last, when your stony heart being still within you,
he shall condemn you and cast you away because you would have none of
his rebukes and would not turn at the voice of his exhortation?
Let the brewer remember that as he brews he must drink. Let the potter
tremble lest he be like a vessel marred upon the wheel. Let the printer
take heed, that his life be set in heavenly type, and not in the black
letter of sin. Painter, beware! for paint will not suffice, we must
have unvarnished realities.
Others of you are engaged in business where you are continually using
scales and measures. Might you not often put yourselves into those
scales? Might you not fancy you saw the great Judge standing by with
his Gospel in one scale and you in the other, and solemnly looking down
upon you, saying, "Mene, mene, tekel,–thou art weighed in the balances
and found wanting." Some of you use the measure, and when you have
measured out, you cut off the portion that your customer requires.
Think of your life too, it is to be of a certain length, and every year
brings the measure a little farther, and at last there come the
scissors that shall clip off your life, and it is done. How knowest
thou when thou art come to the last inch? What is that disease thou
hast about thee, but the first snip of the scissors? What is that
trembling in thy bones, that failing in thy eyesight, that fleeing of
thy memory, that departure off thy youthful vigor, but the first rent?
How soon shalt thou be rent in twain, the remnant of thy days past
away, and thy years all numbered and gone, misspent and wasted for
ever!
But you say you are engaged as a servant and your occupations are
diverse. Then diverse are the lectures God preaches to you. "A servant
waits for his wages and the hireling fulfilleth his day." There is a
similitude for thee, when thou hast fulfilled thy day on earth, and
shalt take thy wages at last. Who then is thy master? Art thou serving
Satan and the lusts of the flesh, and wilt thou take out thy wages at
hast in the hot metal of destruction? or art thou serving the fair
prince Emmanuel, and shalt thy wages be the golden crowns of heaven?
Oh! happy art thou if thou servest a good master, for according to thy
master shall be thy reward; as is thy labor such shall the end be.
Or thou art one that guideth the pen, and from hour to hour wearily
thou writest. Ah! man, know that thy life is a writing. When thy hand
is not on the pen, thou art a writer still; thou art always writing
upon the pages of eternity; thy sins thou art writing or else thy holy
confidence in him that loved thee. Happy shall it be for thee, O
writer, if thy name is written in the Lamb's book of life, and if that
black writing of thine, in the history of thy pilgrimage below, shall
have been blotted out with the red blood of Christ, and thou shalt hare
written upon thee the fair name of Jehovah, to stand legible for ever.
Or perhaps thou art a physician or a chemist; thou prescribest or
preparest medicines for man's body. God stands there by the side of thy
pestle and thy mortar, and by the table where thou writest thy
prescriptions, and he says to thee, "Man, thou art sick; I can
prescribe for thee. The blood and righteousness of Christ, laid hold of
by faith, and applied by the Spirit, can cure thy soul I can compound a
medicine for thee that shall rid thee of thy sins and bring thee to the
place where the inhabitants shall no more say, I am sick.' Wilt thou
take my medicine or wilt thou reject it? Is it bitter to thee, and dost
thou turn away from it? Come, drink my child, drink, for thy life lieth
here; and how shalt thou escape if thou neglect so great salvation?" Do
you cast iron, or melt lead, or fuse the hard metals of the mines? then
pray that the Lord may melt thine heart and cast thee in the mould of
the gospel? Do you make garments for men? oh, be careful that you find
a garment for yourself for ever.
Are you busy in building all day long, laying the stone upon its fellow
and the mortar in its crevice? Then remember thou art building for
eternity too. Oh that thou mayest thyself be built upon a good
foundation! Oh that thou mayest build thereon, not wood, hay, or
stubble, but gold, and silver, and precious stones, and things that
will abide the fire! Take care man lest thou shouldest be God's
scaffold, lest thou shouldest be used on earth to be a scaffolding for
building his church, and when his church is built thou shouldest be
cast down and burned up with fire unquenchable. Take heed that thou art
built upon a rock, and not upon the sand, and that the vermillion
cement of the Saviour's precious blood unites thee to the foundation of
the building, and to every stone thereof.
Art thou a jeweller, and dost thou cut thy gem and polish the diamond
from day to day? Would to God thou wouldest take warning from the
contrast which thou presentest to the stone on which thou dost exercise
thy craft. Thou cuttest it, and it glitters the more thou dost cut it;
but though thou hast been cut and ground, though thou hast had cholera
and fever, and hast been at death's door many a day, thou art none the
brighter, but the duller, for alas! thou art no diamond. Thou art but
the pebble-stone of the brook, and in the day when God makes up his
jewels he shall not enclose thee in the casket of his treasures; for
thou art not one of the precious sons of Zion, comparable unto fine
gold. But be thy situation what it may, be thy calling what it may,
there is a continual sermon preached to thy conscience. I could that
thou wouldest now from this time forth open both eye and ear, and see
and hear the things that God would teach thee.
And now, dropping the similitude while the clock shall tick but a few
times more, let us put the matter thus–Sinner, thou art as yet without
God and without Christ; thou art liable to death every hour. Thou canst
not tell but that thou mayest be in the flames of hell before the clock
shall strike ONE to-day. Thou art to-day "condemned already," because
thou believest not in the Son of God. And Jesus Christ saith to thee
this day, "Oh, that thou wouldest consider thy latter end!" He cries to
thee this morning, "How often would I have gathered thee as a hen
gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not." I entreat
you, consider your ways. If it be worth while to make your bed in hell
do it. If the pleasures of this world are worth being damned to all
eternity for enjoying them, if heaven be a cheat and hell a delusion,
go on in your sins. But, if there be hell for sinners and heaven for
repenting ones, and if thou must dwell a whole eternity in one place or
the other, without similitude, I put a plain question to thee–Art thou
wise in living as thou dost, without thought,–careless, and godless?
Wouldest thou ask now the way of salvation? It is simply this–"Believe
on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." He died; he rose
again; thou art to believe him to be thine. Thou art to believe that he
is able to save unto the uttermost them that come unto God by him. But,
more than that, believing that to be a fact, thou art to cast thy soul
upon that fact and trust to him, sink or swim. Spirit of God! help us
each to do this and by similitude, or by providence, or by thy
prophets, bring us each to thyself and save us eternally, and unto thee
shall be the glory.
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