Fragrant Graces
(No. 3480)
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1915.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"While the King sits at His table, my spikenard sends forth its
fragrance." Song of Songs 1:12.
THIS passage may be read in several ways. Literally, when Christ tabled
among men, when He did eat and drink with them, being found in fashion
as a Man, the loving Spirit broke the alabaster box of precious
ointment on His head while the King was sitting at His table. Three
times did the Church thus anoint her Lord, once His head and twice His
feet, as if she remembered His threefold office and the threefold
anointing which He had received of God the Father to confirm and
strengthen Him. So she rendered Him the threefold anointing of her
grateful love, breaking the alabaster box and pouring the precious
ointment upon His head and upon His feet. Beloved, let us imitate the
example of those who have gone before. Though we cannot, as the weeping
penitent, wash His feet with our tears, or wipe them with the hairs of
our head, like that gracious woman–we may be cautious of nothing, of
fair adornments, or fond endowments–if we can but serve His cause or
honor His Person. Let us be willing to "pour contempt on all our
pride," and "nail our glory to His Cross." Have you anything tonight
that is dear to you? Resign it to Him! Have you any costly thing like
an alabaster box hidden away? Give it to the King! He is worthy and
when you have fellowship with Him at His table, let your gifts be
brought forth. Offer unto the King thanksgiving and pay your vows unto
the Most High.
But the King is gone from earth. He is seated at His table in Heaven,
eating bread in the Kingdom of God. Surrounded now not by publicans and
harlots, but by cherubim and seraphim, not by mocking crowds, but by
adoring hosts, the King sits at His table and entertains the glorious
company of the faithful–the Church of the Firstborn, whose names are
written in Heaven! He fought before He could rest. On earth He
struggled with His enemies and it was not till He had triumphed over
all, that He sat down at the table on high! There sit, You King of
kings, there sit until Your last enemy shall be made Your footstool!
What can we do, Brothers and Sisters, while Christ sits at the table
above? These hands cannot reach Him. These eyes cannot see Him. But our
prayers, like sweet perfume, set burning here on earth, can rise in
smoke to the place where the King sits at His table–and our spikenard
can diffuse a perfume even in Heaven itself! Do you want to reach
Christ? Your prayers can do it! Would you now adore Him? Would you now
set forth your love? With mingled prayer and praise, like the offering
of the morning and the evening sacrifice, your incense can come up
acceptably before the Lord!
And, Brothers and Sisters, the day is coming when the King shall sit at
His table in royal state. Lo, He comes! Lo, He comes! Let the Church
never forget that. The First Advent is her faith–the Second Advent is
her hope. The First Advent with the Cross lays the foundation–the
Second Advent with the crown brings forth the top stone. The former was
ushered in with sighs–the latter shall be hailed with shouts of,
"Grace, Grace unto it." And when the King, manifested and recognized in
His Sovereignty over all lands, shall sit at His table with His Church,
then, in that blessed Millennium, the Graces of Christians shall give
forth their odors of sweet savor!
We have thus read the text in three ways, and there is a volume in
each, but we turn over another page, for we need to read it in relation
to the spiritual Presence of Christ as He does now reveal Himself to
His people. "When the King sits at His table"–that is, when we enjoy
the Presence of Christ–"my spikenard gives forth its fragrance." Then
our graces are in active exercise and yield a perfume agreeable to our
own soul and acceptable before God.
In the train of reflection I shall now attempt to follow. My manner
must be hurried and should it seem feeble, Brothers and Sisters, I
cannot help it. If you get fellowship with Christ, I care little for
the merits of my sermon, or the perils of your criticism. One thing,
alone, I crave, "Let Him kiss us with the kisses of His mouth"–then
shall my soul be well content, and so will yours be also! The first
observation we make shall be this–
I. EVERY BELIEVER HAS GRACE IN POSSESSION AT ALL TIMES.
The text implies that when the King is not present, the spikenard
yields no smell, but the spikenard is there for all that. The spouse
speaks of her spikenard as though she had it, and only needed to have
the King come and sit at the table to make its presence known and felt.
Ah, well, Believer, there is Grace in your heart if you are a child of
God! When you cannot see it yourself. When your doubts have so covered
up all your hopes, that you say, "I am cast out from His Presence"–yet
for all that, Grace may be there. When the old oak has lost its last
leaf by the howling blasts of winter. When the sap is frozen up in the
veins and you cannot, though you search to the uttermost branch, find
so much as the slightest sign of verdant existence, still, even then,
the substance is in the tree when it has lost its leaves. And so with
every Believer, though his sap seems frozen and his life almost dead,
yet if once planted, it is there! The eternal life is there when he
cannot discover it himself. Do you know–if not, I pray you may never
know experimentally–that there are many things that keep a Christian's
spikenard from being poured out? Alas, there is our sin! Ah, shameful,
cruel sin, to rob my Master of His Glory! But when we fall into sin, of
course, our Graces become weak and yield no fragrance to God. Ah, too,
there is our unbelief which puts a heavy stone on all our Divine
Graces, and blows out the heat which was burning the frankincense, so
that no altar smoke arises towards Heaven. And often, it may be, it is
our bitterness of spirit, for when our mind is cast down, we hang our
harps upon the willows so that they give forth no sweet music unto God.
And, above all, if Christ is absent, if through neglect or by any other
means our fellowship with Him is suspended, Grace is there–but oh, it
cannot be seen! There is no comfort springing from it. But, Beloved,
though we mention this to begin with, we rather choose to pass on and
observe that–
II. GRACE IS NOT GIVEN TO A CHRISTIAN TO BE THUS HIDDEN, BUT IT IS
INTENDED THAT,
LIKE SPIKENARD, IT SHOULD ALWAYS BE IN EXERCISE.
If I understand a Christian aright, he should be a man readily
discerned. You do not need to write upon a box that contains spikenard,
with the lid open, the word, "Spikenard." You will know it is
there–your nostrils would tell you. If a man should fill his pockets
with dust, he might walk where he would, and though he should scatter
it in the air, few would notice it. But let him go into a room with his
pockets full of musk, and let him drop a particle about–he is soon
discovered because the musk speaks for itself! Now true Grace, like
spikenard or any other perfume, should speak for itself. You know our
Savior compares Christians to lights. There is a crowd of people
standing yonder–I cannot see those who are in the shadow, but there is
one man whose face I can see well, and that is the man who holds the
torch. Its flames light up his face so that we can readily catch every
feature. So, whoever is not discovered, the Christian should be obvious
at once! "You also were with Jesus of Nazareth, for your speech betrays
you." Not only should the Christian be perceptible, but Grace has been
given to him that it might be in exercise! What is faith, unless it is
believing? What is love, unless it is embracing? What is patience,
unless it is enduring? To what purpose is knowledge, unless it is
revealing truth? What are any of those sweet Graces which the Master
gives us, unless they yield their perfume? I fear we do not gaze enough
upon that face covered with the bloody sweat, for if we did, as sure as
the King was thus in our thoughts sitting at His table, we would be
more like He, we would love Him more, we would live more passionately
for Him and would spend and be spent, that we might promote His glory.
I just note this point, and then pass on, that Believers' Graces, like
spikenard, are meant to give forth their smell. But here is the pith of
our whole subject, though we have little time to linger upon it–
III. THE ONLY WAY IN WHICH A CHRISTIAN'S GRACES CAN BE PUT INTO
EXERCISE IS THAT HE
MUST HAVE THE PRESENCE OF THE MASTER.
He is called "the King." I am told that the Hebrew word is very
emphatic, as if it said, "The King"–the King of kings, the greatest of
all Kings. He must be such to us–absolute Master of our hearts, Lord
of our soul's domain, the unrivalled One in our estimation to whom we
render obedience with alacrity. We must have Him as King, or we shall
not have His Presence to revive our Graces. And when the King communes
with His people, it is said to be at "His table," not at ours.
Specially may this apply to the Table of Communion. It is not the
Baptists' table. It is not my table. It is His Table because if there
is anything good on it, remember, He spread it! No, there is nothing on
the table unless He Himself is there. There is no food to the child of
God unless Christ's body is the flesh, and Christ's blood the wine. We
must have Christ! It must be emphatically His Table by His being
present, by His spreading it, His presiding at it, or else we have not
His Presence at all. I find the Hebrew word here signifies a "round
table." I do not know whether that is intended which I understand by
it–perhaps it is–it suggests to me a blessed equality with all His
disciples sitting at His round
table, as if there were scarcely a head, but He was one of them, so
close the communion He holds with them sitting at the table, so dear
His fellowship, sitting like one of them, made like unto His Brothers
and Sisters in all things at His round table.
Well, now, we say that when Christ comes into the ordinance of the
Lord's Supper, or any other ordinance, straightway our Graces are
vigorous. How often have we resolved that we would live nearer to
Christ? Yet, though we have resolved, and re-resolved, I fear it has
all ended with resolving. Perhaps we have prayed over our resolutions
and for a little season we have sought them very earnestly, but our
earnestness soon expired like every other fire that is of human
kindling–and we made but little progress. Be not disheartened, my
Beloved in the Lord! I tell you, whether you are able to believe it or
not, that if your heart is this night cold as the center of an iceberg,
yet if Christ shall come to you, your soul shall be as coals ofjuniper
that have a most vehement flame! Though to your own apprehension you
seem to be dead as the bones in a cemetery, yet if Jesus comes to you,
you shall forthwith be as full of life as the seraphs who are as flames
of fire! Why do you think He will not come to you? Do you not remember
how He did melt you when first He manifested Himself to your soul? You
were as vile, then, as you are now. You were certainly as ruined, then,
as you are now! You had no more to merit His esteem, then, than you
have now–you were as far off from Him, then, as you are now–I might
say even further off. But lo, He came to you when you did not seek Him!
He came in the Sovereignty of His Grace and the sweetness of His mercy
when you despised Him! Why, then, should He not come to you now?
Oh, breathe the prayer–tenderly and hopefully breathe the
prayer–"Draw me," and you will soon find power to run, and when all
your passions and powers are fled, the King will speedily bring you
into His chamber! Dark as your present state may be, there are sure
signs of breaking day. I want you, Brothers and Sisters, to believe and
to expect that you shall hold this night with Christ the richest,
sweetest fellowship that ever mortal was privileged to enjoy, and that
all of a sudden! I know your cares–forget them! I know your
sins–bring them to His feet! I know the wandering of your heart–ask
Him to tether you to His Cross with the same cords that bound Him to
the pillar of His flagellation. I know your brain is perplexed and your
thoughts flying here and there, distracted with many cares–put on the
crown of thorns and let that be the antidote of all your manifold
disquietudes! I think Jesus is putting in His hand by the hole of the
door. Is not your heart moved for Him? Rise up and welcome Him! And as
the bread is broken and the wine is passed round, come, and eat and
drink of Him, and be not a stranger to Him. "Let not conscience make
you linger." Let not doubts and fears hold you back from fellowship
with Him who loved you before the earth was, but rest your unworthy
head upon His blessed bosom and talk with Him, even though the only
words you may be able to say may be, "Lord, is it I?" Do seek
fellowship with Him, as one who ignores every thought, feeling, or fact
besides. So may it please Him to manifest Himself to you and to me as
He does not to the world.
If you that have never had fellowship with Christ think I am talking
nonsense, I do not marvel. But let me tell you, if you had ever known
what fellowship with Christ means, you would pawn your eyes, and barter
your right arm, and give your estates away as trifles for the priceless
favor! Princes would sell their crowns and peers would renounce their
dignities to have five minutes' fellowship with Christ. I will vouch
for that. Why, I have had more joy in my Lord and Master in the space
of the ticking of a clock than could be crammed into a lifetime of
sensual delights, or of the pleasures of taste, or of the fascinations
of literature! There is a depth, a matchless depth, in Jesus' love!
There is a luscious sweetness in the fellowship with Him. You must eat,
or you will never know the flavor of it. Oh, taste and see that the
Lord is good! Behold how ready He still is to welcome sinners. Trust
Him and live. Feed on Him and grow strong. Commune with Him and be
happy. May every one of you who shall sit at the Table have the nearest
approach to Jesus that you ever had! Like two streams that, after
flowing side by side, at length unite, so may Christ and our soul melt
into one, even as Isis melts into Thames, till only one life shall flow
so that the life we live in the flesh shall be no more ours, but Christ
that lives in us! Amen.