Faith in Perfection
A Sermon
(No. 231)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, January 2nd, 1859, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens
"The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me. Thy mercy, O Lord,
endureth for ever: forsake not the works of thine own hands."–Psalm
138:8.
I HAVE SELECTED THIS TEXT, or, rather, it has been given to me to
furnish a motto for the whole year to all the believing family of God
now present. It was brought under my notice from the fact that I have a
very dear friend, a venerable minister of the Church of England, and an
earnest lover of the truth as it is in Jesus, who always sends me, at
the beginning of the year, or a day or two previously, a little
envelope sealed up, that I am not to open till New Year's day,
containing a printed text of Scripture, which he desires to be
preserved during the remainder of the year, to act as a staff whereon
we may rest through the pilgrimage of the next twelve months. When I
opened my envelope I found this text, and it charmed me. It contains in
itself the very essence of the grace of God. It reads like music to the
soul, and is like a bottle of water in the desert to the thirsty lip.
Let me read it again, and remember it, and dwell upon it, and digest it
during all the year. "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me.
Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever: forsake not the works of thine
own hands."
In the opening, I must remark that this is not the heritage of all
mankind. The word, "me," in the text, cannot be appropriated by any
man, unless he, in some respects, resembles the character of David, who
penned this psalm. The text, however, itself, is its own guard. If you
look at it, you will see that there is in its bowels a full description
of a true Christian. I will ask you three questions suggested by the
words themselves, and according to your answer to these three
questions, shall be my reply, yes or no, as to whether this promise
belongs to you.
To begin, let us read the first sentence–"The Lord will perfect that
which concerneth me." Now, have you a concern in and a concern about
heavenly things? Have you ever felt that eternity concerns you more
than time; that the mansions of heaven are more worthy your
consideration than the dwelling-places of earth? Have you felt that you
ought to have a greater concern about your immortal soul than about
your perishing body? Remember, if you are living the life of the
butterfly, the life of the present, a sportive and flowery life,
without making any preparation or taking any thought for a future
world, this promise is not yours. If the things of God do not concern
you, then God will not perfect them for you. You must have in your own
soul a concern about these things, and afterwards you must have a
belief in your heart that you have an interest in heavenly things, or
otherwise it would be a perversion of Holy Scripture for you to
appropriate these precious things to yourselves. Can we then, each of
us put our hand upon our heart and say, without stammering, which
suggests a hypocrite–can we say honestly, as in the sight of God; "I
am concerned about the things of God, of Christ, of salvation, of
eternity! I may not have assurance, but I have concern. If I cannot
say, I know in whom I have believed, yet I can say I know in whom I
desire to believe. If I cannot say, I know that my Redeemer liveth, yet
I can say I desire that I may be found in him at last, without spot or
wrinkle, or any such thing." Well soul, if thou hast a concern about
the things of God, this is thy promise, and let not Master Clip-promise
take it away from thee; suffer him not to take any part of its
preciousness; it is all thine, "The Lord will perfect that which
concerneth thee."
Another question is suggested by the second clause, "Thy mercy, O Lord,
endureth forever." Have we then tasted of God's mercy? Have you and I
gone to the throne of grace conscious of our lost estate? Have we made
confession of our sins? Have we looked to the blood of Jesus; and do we
know that the mercy of God has been manifested to us? Have we breathed
the dying thief's petition, and have we had the gracious answer of
Jesus? Have we prayed as the publican did? and have we gone to our
house justified by God's mercy? Remember, O man! if thou hast never
received God's pardoning mercy and his forgiving grace, this text is a
divine enclosure, into which thou hast no right to intrude; this is a
banquet, of which thou hast no right to eat; this is a secret place,
into which thou hast no right to enter. We must first taste God's mercy
and, having tasted that, we may believe that he will perfect that which
concerneth us.
A third question, and I beseech you put these questions to your heart,
lest you should be misled, by any comfortable words that I shall
hereafter speak, into the foul delusion, that this promise signifies
yourself, when it does not. The last question is suggested by the
prayer, "Forsake not the works of thine own hands." Have you then a
religion which is the work of God's hands? Many men have a religion
which is their own work, there is nothing supernatural about it; human
nature began it, human nature has carried it on, and as far they have
any hope they trust that human nature will complete it. Remember there
is no spring on earth that has force enough in it to spout a fountain
into paradise, and there is no strength in human nature that shall ever
suffice to raise a soul to heaven. You may practice morality, and I
beseech you do so; you may attend to ceremonies and you have a right to
do so, and must do so; you may endeavour to do all righteousness, but
since you are a sinner condemned in the sight of God, you can never be
pardoned apart from the blood of Christ; and you can never be purified
apart from the purifying operations of the Holy Ghost. That man's
religion which is born on earth, and born of the will of the flesh or
of blood, is a vain religion. Oh! beloved, except a man be born again,
or from above, as the original has it, he cannot see the kingdom of
God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh and cannot enter heaven;
only that which is born of the Spirit is spirit, and is, therefore,
capable of inheriting a spiritual inheritance, which God reserves for
spiritual men. Have I then the work of God in my heart? am I sure it is
not my own work? If I am, experimentally, an Arminian, and if I think I
have proved the truth of Arminian religion, then I have no religion
that will carry me to heaven. But if, experimentally, I am compelled to
confess that grace begins, that grace carries on, and that grace must
perfect my religion, then God having began the good work in me, I am
the person for whom this verse is intended, and I may sit down at this
celestial banquet and eat and drink to my very full.
Let each hearer, then, pause and put these three questions to
himself,–Am I concerned about religion? Have I tasted the mercy of
God? Is my religion God's work? They are solemn questions; answer them!
and if ye can even humbly say "Yes," then come ye to this text, for the
joy and comfort of it is yours.
We have three things here. First, the believer's confidence,–"The Lord
will perfect that which concerneth me." Secondly, the ground of that
confidence,–"Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever;" and thirdly, the
result and outgrowth of his confidence expressed in the
prayer,–"Forsake not the works of thine own hands."
I. First, then, THE BELIEVER'S CONFIDENCE,–"The Lord will perfect that
which concerneth me." I think, perhaps, the best way to preach upon a
text, if we would have it remembered, is to take it word by word. Let
us spell it over then, as Uncle Tom did, when he was on board of the
steamer, and could not read the long words, but sucked more sweetness
out of the text by spelling it over, than he could have done in any
other way.
"The Lord." Well then the Psalmist's confidence was a divine
confidence. He did not say, "I have grace enough to perfect that which
concerneth me;" "my faith is so strong that I shall not fail;" "my love
is so warm that it will never grow cold;" "my resolution is so firmly
set that nothing can move it;"–no, his dependance was on the
Lord–"The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me." And O
Christian, if thou hast any confidence which is not grounded on the
Lord and rooted in the rock of ages, thy confidence is worse than a
dream; it shall deceive thee, pierce thee, wound thee, and cast thee
down to thine own future sorrow and grief. But here, our Psalmist
himself builds upon nothing else than upon the Lord's works. Sure I am
the Lord began the good work in our souls, he has carried it on, and if
he does not finish it, it never will be complete. If there be one
stitch in the celestial garment of my righteousness, which I am to
insert myself, then I am lost. If there be one drachma in the price of
my redemption which I am to make up, then must I perish. If there be
one contingency–one "if," or "though," or "but," about my soul's
salvation, then am I a lost man. But this is my confidence, the Lord
that began will perfect. He has done it all, must do it all, he will do
it all. My confidence must not be in what I can do, or in what I have
resolved to do, but entirely in what the Lord will do. "The Lord will
perfect that which concerneth me." "Oh," says unbelief, "you will never
be able to purify yourself from sin. Look at the evil of your heart,
you can never sweep that away: look at the evil fashions and
temptations of the world that beset you, you will surely be lured aside
and led astray." Ah! yes, I should indeed perish if it depended upon
myself. I am but as clay upon the wheel. If I had to fashion myself
into a vessel of honour, fit for the Master's use, I might give up the
work in despair. I am but as a little lamb; and if I had to travel
through the wilderness by myself, I might indeed lie down and die. Yet
if I be clay, he is my potter, and he will not suffer me to be marred
upon the wheel; and if I be a lamb he is my shepherd, and he carrieth
the lambs in his bosom–he wardeth off the wolf, he smiteth the
destroyer, and he bringeth every sheep into the fold upon the hilltop
of glory. The Lord, then, is the Christian's divine confidence. We can
never be too confident when we confide in the Lord. "Jehovah will
perfect that which concerneth me."
Take the next word, "will." So the Psalmist's confidence was a
confidence for the future; it is not only what the Lord does, but what
the Lord will do. I have heard people say that they could trust a man
as far as they could see him; and I have often thought that is about as
far as many professors trust God, so far as they can see him, and no
farther. They believe God is good when the meat is on the table, and
the drink is in the cup, but would they believe God if the table were
bare, and the cup were empty? No; they have good faith when they see
the ravens coming, that they shall have their bread and meat; but if
the ravens did not come, would they believe that even then their bread
should be given them and their water should be sure? They can believe
the thing when they get it, but until they get it they are doubting.
The Psalmist's faith, however, deals with the future, not merely with
the present. The "Lord will," says he, the "Lord will." He looks on all
through his life, and he feels sure that what God has done and is doing
he will carry on even to the end. And now you that are afraid about the
future, rest with us in this sweet promise. How often do you and I
stand star-gazing into the future, and trembling, because we think we
see divers portents, and strange sights, which portend some future
trouble. O child of God! leave the future to thy God. O leave
everything that is to come in the hand of him to whom the future is
already present, and who knows beforehand everything that shalt befall
thee. Draw from the present living water with which to moisten the arid
desert of the future; snatch from the altar-fires of to-day a torch
with which to light up the darkness of that which is to come. Depend on
it, that He who is to-day thy sun, shall be thy sun for ever–even in
the darkest hour he shall shine upon thee; and he who is to-day thy
shield shall be thy shield for evermore; and even in the thickest part
of the battle he shall catch the dart, and thou shalt stand unharmed.
Let us turn to this word "will" once again. There is a little more in
it; it does not say the "Lord may," it does not say, "I hope he will; I
trust he will," but it says he will; "The Lord will perfect that which
concerneth me." A few months after I first sought and found salvation,
I enjoyed the sweet privilege of full assurance, and in talking with a
godly Christian I expressed myself very confidently concerning the
great truth that God would ne'er forsake his people, nor leave his work
undone. I was at once child, I was told I had no right to speak so
confidently, for it was presumptuous. The longer I live, the more I
feel persuaded that confidence was proper, and the chiding was not
deserved. I believe that the happiest of Christians and the truest of
Christians are those who never dare to doubt God, but who take his word
simply as it stands, and believe it and ask no questions, just feeling
assured that if God has said it it will be so. The Psalmist in our text
had no more doubt about his own ultimate perfection, than he had about
his existence. He says, "the Lord will perfect that which concerneth
me." There are many things that may or may not happen, but this I know
shall happen,
"He shall present my soul,
Unblemish'd and complete,
Before the glory of his face,
With joys divinely great."
All the purposes of man have been defeated, but not the purposes of
God. The promises of man may be broken, many of them are made to be
broken, but the purposes of God shall stand, and his promises shall be
fulfilled. He is a promise maker, but he never was a promise breaker:
he is a promise-keeping God, and his people shall prove it so. Come
then, ye that are always hoping amidst trembling, and fear, but are
never confident, for once take that doubting note out of your mouth,
and say assuredly "the Lord will perfect that which concerneth me." If
I be really his child, though full of sin, I shall one day be perfect;
if I have really set my heart towards him, I shall one day see his face
with joy; and let whatever foes obstruct, I shall conquer through the
Lamb's redeeming blood. He "will perfect that which concerneth me." I
like to hear God's people speak diffidently of themselves, but
confidently of their God. Doubts are the greatest of sins, and even
though Christians have doubts, yet doubts are unchristian things. The
spirit of Christ is not a spirit of doubting, but a spirit of
believing. Doubts may exist in the hearts of spiritual men, but doubts
are unspiritual, carnal, and sinful. Let us seek to get rid of them,
and speak confidently where God's word is confident.
Now, take the next word, "The Lord will perfect." That is a large word.
Our Wesleyan brethren have a notion that they are going to be perfect
here on earth. I should be very glad to see any of them when they are
perfect; and if any of them happen to be in the position of servants
and want a situation, I would be happy to give them any amount of wages
I could spare, for I should feel myself greatly honoured and greatly
blessed in having a perfect servant; and what is more, if any of them
are masters and want servants, I would undertake to come and serve them
without wages at all if I could but find a perfect master. I have had a
perfect master ever since I first knew the Lord, and if I could find
that there is another perfect master, I should be greatly pleased in
having him as an under-master, while the great Supreme must ever be
chief of all. Did you ever see a perfect man? I did once. He called
upon me, and wanted me to come and see him, for I should get great
instruction from him if I did. I said, "I have no doubt of it, but I
should not like to come into your house; I think I should be hardly
able to get into your room." How is that? "Well, I suppose your house
would be so full of angels that there would not be room for me." He did
not like that; so I broke another joke or two upon his head; whereupon
he went into a perfect furor. "Well friend," I said to him, "I think I
am as perfect as you after all; for perfect men get angry?" He denied
that he was angry, although there was a peculiar redness about his
cheeks that is very common to persons when they are angry; at any rate
I think I rather spoiled his perfection, for he evidently went home
less satisfied with himself than when he went out. I met another man
who considered himself perfect, but he was thoroughly mad; and I do not
believe that any of your pretenders to perfection are better than good
maniacs, superior bedlamites; that is all I believe they are. For while
a man has got a spark of reason left in him, he cannot, unless he is
the most impudent of imposters, talk about his being perfect. What
would I not give to be perfect myself! And you can say also, what would
you not give to be perfect. If I must be burnt in fire, or dragged
through the sea by the hair of my head; if I must be buried in the
bowels of the earth, or hung up to the stars for ever–if I might but
be perfect, I would rejoice in any price I might have to pay for
perfection. But I feel perfectly persuaded, that perfection is
absolutely impossible to any man beneath the sky; and yet, I feel sure,
that to every believer future perfection is an absolute certainty. The
day shall come, beloved, when the Lord shall not only make us better,
but shall make us perfectly good; when he shall not merely subdue our
lusts, but when he shall cast the demons out; when he shall make us not
only tolerable, and bearable, and endurable, but make us holy and
acceptable in his sight. That day however, I believe, shall not come
until we enter into the joy of our Lord, and are glorified together
with Christ in heaven.
Say, Christian, is not this a large confidence? "The Lord will make me
perfect." He will most assuredly, beyond a doubt, bring to perfection
my faith, my love, my hope, and every grace. He will perfect his
purposes; he will perfect his promises; he will perfect my body, and
perfect my soul. "He will perfect that which concerneth me."
And now there is the word "that"–"that which"–"The Lord will perfect
that which concerneth me." Very indefinite, it seems; but how broad it
is. What a broad faith the Psalmist had! "Whatever concerns me," says
he, "the Lord will perfect." Once pardon of sin concerned me; that he
has perfected. Then imputed righteousness concerned me; that he
perfected. Now, sanctification troubles me; that he will perfect. One
day, deliverance was my fear; now it is support. But whatever is laid
upon my heart to be concerned about, this comprehensive term, "that"
embraces all, be it what it may, if I have a spiritual concern upon my
soul about any heavenly thing, that will God perfect.
Go on a step further. Here is a trial of faith. "The Lord will perfect
that which concerneth me." Alas, beloved, we cannot say we have any
good thing without having concern for it. I suppose God never gave us a
blessing, but we doubted whether we should have it before we obtained
it. Somehow or other, our doubts always go before God's mercies;
whereas we ought to believe, and not to feel any anxiety and
distrustful concern. My faith is sometimes tried and concerned about
heavenly things now. But though that faith be tried by an inward
concern about the things of God, yet it surmounts even its own doubts,
and cries, "The Lord will perfect even this." Have you learnt this
lesson aright–being troubled about a thing and yet believing about it?
A christian man will find his experience to be very much like the sea.
Upon the surface there is a storm, and the mountain-waves are rolling,
but down in the depths there are caverns where quietude has reigned
supreme ever since the foundations of the earth were digged; where
peace, undisturbed, has had a solitary triumph. Beloved, it is so with
the Christian's heart. Outwardly, he is concerned about these things.
He doubts, he fears, he trembles; but in his inmost heart, down in the
depths of his soul, he is without a fear, and he can say confidently,
"The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me."
But I hasten to dwell upon the last word. The faith of our text is a
personal faith. "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me." Here
is the loudest note of all; this is the handle whereby we must lay hold
of this sword if we would use it aright–"that which concerneth me."
Oh, it is a sweet truth to know and believe that God will perfect all
his saints; tis sweeter still to know that "he will perfect me." It is
blessed to believe that all God's people shall persevere; but the
essence of delight is to feel that I shall persevere through him. Many
persons are contented with a kind of general religion, an universal
salvation. They belong to a Christian community; they have joined a
Christian church, and they think they shall be saved in the lump–in
the mass; but give me a personal religion. What is all the bread in the
world, unless I myself feed upon it? I am starved, though Egypt be full
of corn. What are all the rivers that run from the mountains to the
sea, if I be thirsty? Unless I drink myself, what are all these? If I
be poor and in rags, ye do but mock me if ye tell me that Potosi's
mines are full of treasure? You do but laugh at me if you speak of
Golconda's diamonds. What care I for these, unless I have some
participation for myself? But if I can say even of my crust, "It is my
own," then I can eat it with a grateful heart. That crust which is my
own is more precious than all the granaries of Egypt if they are not my
own, and this promise even if it were smaller would be more precious
than the largest promise that stands in the Bible, if I could not see
my right to it personally myself. But now, by bumble faith, sprinkled
with the blood of Christ, resting in his merits, trusting in his death,
I come to the text, and say throughout this year, and every year, "The
Lord will perfect that which concerneth me"–unworthy me. Lost and
ruined me. He will yet save me; and
"I, among the blood-wash'd throng,
Shall wave the palm, and wear the crown,
And shout loud victory."
This, then, is the believer's confidence. May God grant you the same!
II. The second thing is THE GROUND OF THIS CONFIDENCE. The ground of it
is this–"Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever." The believer is sure
he shall be saved. Why? Because of his merits? No. Because of the
strength of his own faith? No. Because he has something which will
recommend him to God? No; he believes he shall be perfected because of
God's mercy. Is it not a strange thing that the advanced believer, when
he reaches to the very height of piety, just comes to the spot where he
commenced? Do we not begin at the cross, and when we have climbed over
so high, is it not at the cross that we end? I know my pilgrimage shall
never end to my heart's content till at his cross again I cast my
wreath and lay my honours down. My sins I laid there, and aught else
that he has given me I would lay there too. Ye began there and your
watchword is the cross. While yet the hosts are preparing for the
battle, it is the cross. And ye have fought the fight and your sword is
red with blood, and your head is crowned with triumph. And what is the
watchword now? The cross. That which is our strength in battle is our
boast in victory. Mercy must be the theme of our song here; and mercy
enduring for ever must be the subject of the sonnets of paradise. None
other can be fit sinners; nay, and none other can be fit, grateful
saints.
Come then, beloved, let us just look at this ground of our confidence,
and see whether it will bear our weight. It is said that elephants when
they are going to cross a bridge are always very careful to sound it,
to see whether it will bear them. If they see a horse going over safely
that is not enough, for they say to themselves, "I am an elephant, and
I must see whether it will bear me." Now, we should always do the same
with a promise and with the groundwork of a promise. The promise may
have been proved by others before you, but if you feel yourselves to be
like huge elephantine sinners, you want to be quite certain whether the
arches of the promise are quite strong enough to bear the weight of
your sins. Now, I say, here is God's mercy. Ah! this is indeed
all-sufficient. What was it that first led the Lord to bring you and me
into the covenant at all? It was mercy, pure mercy. We were dead in
sin. We had not any merits to recommend us, for some of us used to
curse and swear like infidels; some of us were drunkards, sinners of
the deepest dye. And why did God save us? Simply because he has said,
"I will have mercy upon whom I will have mercy."
"What was there in you that could merit esteem,
Or give the Creator delight?"
'Twas mercy. Well, then, if mercy made God choose me, if he chose me
from no other motive than mercy, if that mercy always is the same, he
always will choose me, and always will love me. Do you not know it is a
rule which none can dispute, that the same cause must always produce
the same effect. We are told that the volcano is caused by certain
fires within the earth, which must find their vent. Now, as long as
there are those inward fires, and they are in a condition to require
the vent, the vent they must have. When the cause is the same, the
effect must be the same.
The sole cause then, of the salvation of any man is the mercy of God,
and not his merits. God does not look at you whether you are a good man
or a bad man; he does not save you because of anything in yourself, but
because he will do as he pleases, and because he loves to act
mercifully: that is his only reason. Oh! my God, if thou lovedst me
when I had not any faith, thou wilt not cast me away because my faith
is weak now. If thou lovedst me when I had all my sin about me, thou
wilt not leave off loving me now thou hast pardoned me. If thou lovedst
me when I was in my rags, and beggary, and filth, when there was
nothing to recommend me; at least, my God, I am not further fallen than
I was then, or, if I am, the same boundless mercy that loved me when I
was lost, will love me, lost though I be even now. Do you not see it is
because the basis of eternal love is that on which we build we derive
this inference, that if the base cannot move, the pyramid will not.
"The mercy of God endureth for ever: the Lord will perfect that which
concerneth me."
Note the very words of the text: "Thy mercy, O Lord." David brings his
confidence into the court of Divine inspection, in order that it may
there be proved. He says, "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth
me." It is very well for you and I to speak thus here this morning, but
dare we go up to the very temple of God, and there, feeling his
presence, actually present our confidence before him, and ask him to
try it. There are many hypocrites in the world that would tremble to
play the hypocrite if they felt that they were in the presence of God.
But here we have a man that dares to bring his faith to God's tribunal;
he puts it in the scales of infinite justice, and waits the decision.
"Thy mercy, O Lord." Can you do the same? Who among us can cry out with
Toplady–
"The terrors of law and of God,
With me can have nothing to do,
My Saviour's obedience and blood,
Hide all my transgressions from view."
Can you come into God's presence and say this, or, to quote Hart's
words, can you say
"Great God I'm clean,
Through Jesu's blood I'm clean."
He that can say that is blessed indeed; the Lord shall perfect that
which concerneth him.
Ah, what if God's mercy towards men should change? Blessed be his name
it cannot; it endureth for ever. But what if he should remove his mercy
from one man to another? That also he will never do; it endureth for
ever. But suppose we should sin so much that God's mercy should give
way? It cannot give way; it endureth all the weight of sin; it endureth
for ever. But what if we should live in sin so long that at last God
denied mercy to us even though we believed in him? That cannot be; we
cannot sin longer than for ever–his mercy cannot be tried longer, and
even if it could be tried for ever it would endure for ever. All the
weight of my trouble, all the weight of my backsliding, all the weight
of my evil heart of unbelief–all these the everlasting arches of
divine mercy can and will sustain. Those arches never shall rock; the
stone never shall be crumbled; it never shall be swept away by even the
floods of eternity itself. Because his mercy endureth for ever, God
will most assuredly perfect the work of his hands.
And now I come to the third and last point, and here may the Holy
Spirit help me to stir up your minds to prayer.
III. The third particular is–THE RESULT OF THE BELIEVER'S
CONFIDENCE–it leads him to prayer. Out upon those men who have a
confidence that helps them to live without prayer. There are men that
live in this world who say we do not need evidences, we do not need
prayer, we do not need good works. "The Lord has appeared of old unto
me, and said unto me, Thou art one of God's elect, an thou mayest live
in sin, and do whatever thou pleasest, I will save thee at last." Such
characters I hope are getting rare. Alas! there are certain places of
worship where such a religion as that is fostered, if it be not
begotten. There are some ministers–I trust they hardly know what they
are about–who by leaving out the doctrine of man's responsibility,
naturally lead men into that guilty and abominable doctrine of
Antinomianism which has done so much to injure the cause of Christ.
Hear then, ye seed of the presumptuous, and ye that bear the whore's
forehead, hear and tremble. The Lord hath not chosen you, neither has
he cast your name into his lap. He has chosen no man who lives and dies
presumptuously, trusting that he is chosen when he has no evidence of
it. Do you live without prayer? Ah! soul; election hath nought to do
with thee. What is intended by the doctrine of reprobation is far more
likely to be thy lot than the glorious inheritance of election. Dost
thou live in sin, that grace may abound! Every man's damnation is just,
but thine shall be emphatically so. What! dost thou dare to palm
thyself off as a child of God when thou art a brat of hell? Dost thou
claim that thou art a heir of light, when the damning mark of Cain is
on thy very forehead? What! when thou art like Balaam, presumptuous and
abominable, dost thou dare still to claim a lot in the inheritance of
the saints in light? Away with thy confidence; "Hail shall sweep away
thy refuge of lies." The true-born child of God has a spot that is not
like thy spot; he is of a different mould and make from thee. Thou art
a deceiver–not the legitimate child of God.
Mark, my friends, in the text, that a genuine confidence in God does
not lead us to give up prayer, but leads us to prayer. "The Lord will
perfect me." Am I, therefore to say, "He will do it, and I will not
pray?" No, because he will do it, therefore will I pray. Many persons
have such shallow minds that they cannot perceive how God's
determination and our own free action can go together. I never find
these people making the same mistake in common life they do on
religious subjects. A man says to me, "Now, sir, if God intends to save
me, I need do nothing." He knows he is a fool when he says it; or if he
does not know it, I will soon make him see it. Suppose he says, again,
"If the Lord intends to feed me, he will feed me, and I will go without
my dinner. If the Lord intends to give me a harvest, he will give me a
harvest, and I shall not sow any wheat, and I shall not plough."
Suppose another were to say, "If the Lord intends to keep me warm
to-day, he will do it; so I will not put on my coat." Suppose a man
should say, again, "If the Lord intends me to go to bed to-night, I
shall go to bed; and, therefore, I shall not walk towards home, but sit
here as long as I like." You smile at once, because the folly is
self-convicting. But is it not just the same in religion? Because "the
Lord will perfect that which concerneth me," am I to say I shall not
pray? Why, no, my dear friends, the fact is, that a knowledge that a
thing is certain prompts a wise man to action. What made Oliver
Cromwell fight so bravely, but because he felt convinced that he should
conquer? He did not say, "I know that I shall conquer, therefore I will
not fight;" no, he said, "I know that I shall conquer; therefore keep
your powder dry, trust in God, and at em!" So with you; if you believe
the Lord will perfect that which concerneth us, begin with prayer;
trust the promise, and let us go on cheerfully through the world,
rejoicing in the Lord our God. Confidence must not lead to idleness,
but to diligent activity.
And now, note this prayer,–"Forsake not the works of thine own hands."
The prayer is full of confession; it must be that, or else it is never
true prayer. The Psalmist confesses, that if God did forsake him it
would be all over with him, and this is a truth, brethren, that you and
I ought ever to keep in mind. We sometimes pray that God will not
forsake us in temptation; do you not know we should be as much lost if
he were to forsake us in communion as if he were to forsake us in
temptation. When God puts you on the pinnacle of the temple, you need
say, "Lord, hold me up and I shall be safe; do not forsake me here."
When you are down on the ground, if the Lord were to forsake you, there
you would perish just as easily as on the pinnacle of the temple. I
have known the Christian on his knees in the den of leopards, cry,
"Lord, save me now," but do you know that he has as great a need of
help when he is on the top of Pisgah? for he still wants to be kept.
Every moment of our life we are on the brink of hell, and if the Lord
should forsake us, we should certainly perish. Let him but withdraw the
salt of his grace, and the proudest believer must be cast into the
depths of hell, and fall, like Lucifer, never to rise again. Oh! let
this always make us cry aloud, "Forsake us not, O God."
There is yet another confession in the text–the Psalmist's confession
that all he has he has from God. "Forsake not the works of thine own
hands." I will not however dwell upon it, but urge you who are
believers, to go home and cry aloud to God in prayer. Let this be a new
year's-day prayer. "Forsake not the work of thine hands. Father,
forsake not thy little child, lest he die by the hand of the enemy.
Shepherd, forsake not thy lamb, lest the wolves devour him. Great
husbandman, forsake not thy little plant, lest the frost should nip it,
and it should be destroyed. Forsake me not, O Lord now, and when I am
old and grey headed, O Lord, forsake me not. Forsake me not in my joys,
lest I curse God. Forsake me not in my sorrows, lest I murmur against
him. Forsake me not in the day of my repentance, lest I lose the hope
of pardon, and fall into despair; and forsake me not in the day of my
strongest faith, lest my faith degenerate into presumption, and so I
perish by mine own hand." Cry out to God, that he would not forsake you
in your business, in your family; that he would not forsake you either
upon your bed by night, or in your business by day. And may God grant,
when you and I shall come to the end of this year, we may have a good
tale to tell concerning the faithfulness of God in having answered our
prayers, and having fulfilled his promise.
I would now this day crave a part in your prayers. My dear friends, I
am confident that God will perfect that which concerneth me. There has
been a work done in this place, and God has blessed the congregation;
but the work is not perfect yet. It is not enough to rouse other
ministers to preach the word. I hope I shall never, while I live, cease
to have another project always in hand. When one thing is done, we will
do something else. If we have tried to make ministers more diligent in
preaching, we must try to make the churches more earnest in praying.
When we have built our new chapel, we must build something else; we
must always have something in hand. If I have preached the Gospel in
England, it must be my privilege to preach it across the sea yet; and
when I have preached it there, I must solicit longer leave of absence
that I may preach it in other countries, and act as a missionary
throughout the nations. I am confident that God will perfect that which
concerneth me; I rely on that. Do I therefore say that you need not
pray? Oh, no. Pray that he would not forsake the work of his own hands.
This work is not of our own hands. This labour of love is not mine, but
God's. I have done nothing, except as the instrument; he has done it
all. Oh, my dear friends, you that love me, as a brother in Christ, and
as your pastor in the church, go home and plead with God for me this
day and henceforth, that he would not forsake his work; but that the
fire which has been kindled here may run along the ground, till all
England shall be in a blaze with a revival of grace and godliness. Be
not content to warm your hands at the sparks of this fire. Ask that the
breath of God's Spirit may blow the sparks across the sea, that other
lands may catch the flames, till the whole earth burning as a holocaust
to heaven, shall be accepted as whole burnt offering before the throne
of God Most High.
"May the Lord bless you, and keep you, and cause his face to shine upon
you and lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and give you
peace," and unto the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, shall be glory
for ever!