Freshness

DELIVERED ON THURSDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 16, 1882,

BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was renewed in my hand." Job
29:20.

"I shall be anointed with fresh oil." Psalm 92:10.

THE first text tells us of the renown of Job and of the way in which
the Providence of God continued to maintain the glory of his estate,
his bodily health and his prosperity. He was for many days, months,
years, continuously prospered of God. Everything to which he set his
hand succeeded. God had set a hedge about him and all that he had, so
that none broke through to molest him. He grew richer, he grew more
influential, he had more honor in the sight of his fellow men each
morning that he walked to the gate. In every way he was advanced from
day to day and that throughout a long stretch of years. His glory was
fresh in him. He did not achieve a hasty fame and then suddenly become
forgotten. He did not blaze out like a meteor and then vanish into
darkness, but he seemed to be continually fresh, vigorous, strong,
energetic and successful.

He says that his bow was renewed in his hand, whereas a bow usually
loses its force by use and is less able to shoot arrows after a little
while and needs to lie still with a slack string–but it was by no
means so with Job. He could send one arrow and then another and then
another–and the bow seemed to gather strength by use! That is to say,
he never seemed to be worn out in mind or body. Whatever he commenced
was commenced with as great a freshness and zest as the last thing
which he had accomplished and that had been commenced with the same
energy as the first enterprise of his youth. However, this did not
always last, for Job, in this chapter, is telling us of something that
used to be–something that, the loss of, he very sorrowfully
deplored–"my glory was fresh in me." He found himself suddenly
stripped of riches and of honor and put last in the list instead of
first, while his purposes and aims seemed all to miss their way–and he
had no strength and no glory left in him. Now he had reached the winter
of his discontent and those who, before, did him homage, became his
assailants. So far as glory was concerned, he was forgotten as a dead
man out of mind.

Now, Brothers and Sisters, this gives us a lesson that we must not put
our trust in the stability of earthly things. It is said of the world
that God has founded it upon the floods. How, then, can we expect it to
be substantial? Beneath yon moon, continually changing, what can we
discover that abides the same? Where the very light of Heaven is waxing
and waning, what is there but mutability? Change is written upon the
face of all things. If, then, you have built your nest on high, reckon
not too surely that you shall die in your nest–for the axe may fell
the tree and bring it down at an untimely date. If your children are
round about you in good health, be not too sure of them, for they may
be carried to an early grave–and the parent may yet be childless.

If up to now you have been great in the esteem of men, think less than
nothing of that, for the breath of popular applause is more fleeting
than a vapor! It scarcely comes before it goes, and they who,
yesterday, cried, "Hosanna," in the streets at your coming, may, before
tomorrow's sun is set, be crying, "Crucify him! Crucify him!" They did
that to the Master–marvel not if they do it to the servants! This is
the respect that makes all mortal things inconsiderable to a wise
man–he scarcely will put them among his treasures–for they melt
before they are fairly counted, like a coinage of ice. They are but as
the counters that a child plays with, having only an imaginary value.
The things which are seen are shadows–the things invisible are the
only substances. Reckon, then, at their fit price, this transient glory
of wealth, health, or fame. Lay up treasure, "where neither moth nor
rust does corrupt," and seek for stability in other things than these.
Get the feet of yours joy upon the Rock of Ages and reckon all else to
be but sand at its very best.

David, in the second text is talking, I think, about spiritual things,
and he tells us with great joy that he should be anointed with fresh
oil. He did not expect that his glory would depart, but he expected
that it should be renewed. He did not reckon that the bow would lose
its force in his hand, but that God would increase his strength from
day to day. And if any of you, here, who are God's people have any
fears about the future as to your soul matters–if you are alarmed with
the fear that you will share the same lot which Job shared as to his
temporal glory–I would remind you that Job, even in temporals,
received at last twice as much as he had in his best. We must remember
that God can turn His hand one way as well as another and brighten your
prospects as well as darken them! Predict delight rather than despair.
Even the lower springs shall continue to flow till you are beyond the
need of them!

Just now it is about spiritual matters that I want to speak–and if you
have a fear that you must necessarily decline in these–I would remind
you of the words of David, "I shall be anointed with fresh oil" and,
yet further on, of his other words, "They shall still bring forth fruit
in old age, to show that the Lord is upright." Never fall into the
notion that a spiritual falling off is inevitable–there need be
nothing of the kind–you may be fresh as the dew even unto the end! The
subject, tonight, will run in this way–First, the excellency of
freshness–"My glory was fresh in me." Secondly, the fear of
ill-departure. And, thirdly, the hope of is continuance, which hope is
greatly encouraged by the words of our text–"I shall be anointed with
fresh oil."

I. First, then, notice THE EXCELLENCY OF FRESHNESS. "I shall be
anointed with fresh oil." David had been anointed, while still a youth,
to be king over Israel. He was anointed, yet again, when he came to the
kingdom. That outward anointing with actual oil was the testimony of
God's choice and the emblem of David's authorization. Oftentimes, when
his throne seemed precarious, God confirmed him in it and subdued the
people under him. When his dominion became weak, God strengthened him
and his servants and gave them great victories, so that, as a king,
David was frequently anointed with fresh oil. David's royal brow was
crowned with fresh laurels again and again and his throne was settled
and established by the hands of the Lord.

It was established, not with the same old stale anointing–a repetition
of that which had lost its force–but with oil freshly pressed from the
green olive, namely, with a new blessing and a fresh blessing from
God's right hand, as I trust, you and I may be! Freshness is a most
delightful thing if you see it in another. It is a charm in Nature. The
other day, when the wind blew cold, someone said to me, "Yes, but how
fresh the air is and how refreshing–how different from that heavy,
muggy atmosphere in which we were half drowned and almost entirely
suffocated but a few days ago." We need something fresh, and when we
get it, we are freshened ourselves! How pleasant to go into the garden
and see the spring flowers just peeping up. How agreeable to mark the
rills, with their fresh water leaping down the hills after showers of
rain. The young lambs in the meadows and larks in the sky are
delightful because of their freshness. Everything that is fresh seems
to have a charm about it to our minds.

But, dear Friends, spiritual freshness has a double charm! Sometimes we
know what it is to have a freshness of soul, which is the dew from the
Lord. You remember when first your flesh was as that of a new-born
child? I mean when you were newly born again and first knew the Lord.
How fresh everything was to you! The pardon of sin–how it sparkled!
The righteousness of Christ–how brilliant! The idea of being a child
of God–how novel and how delightful! To be joint-heir with Christ–how
it almost startled you–it was such a new idea to your spirit! And
oftentimes since then, when your soul has been in a lively condition,
everything has been bright, charming, exhilarating–nothing flat,
stale, unprofitable.

Even though you heard the same things said again and again, yet,
because your soul was fresh, they came to you with unusual power. Your
spiritual food, if you are healthy, is always fresh to you, like the
manna in the wilderness which was never stored a single night except
for the Sabbath–but fresh and fresh it fell–and Israel gathered it
and fed upon it then and there. Oh, it is a blessed thing to have your
soul in a fresh state, filled with the ever-flowing Living Water! It is
glorious to find everything about you fresh and new through the
teaching of the blessed Spirit, so that you go from strength to
strength and, like a roe or a young hart, leap from hill to hill! If we
are now in the possession of it, may we always keep that freshness of
soul and never lose it.

How that freshness is seen in a man's devotions. Oh, I have heard some
prayers that are really musty! I have heard them so often that I dread
the old familiar sounds! Some hackneyed expressions I remember hearing
when I was a boy. I even now hear the vain repetitions–old, worn-out,
good-for-nothing rubbish expressions they were then–but they are

still brought out by regular prayer-makers! Even where the words are
new and original, you will hear men pray in such a style as to make you
say to yourself, "That prayer came out of Noah's Ark." As far as that
man is concerned, there is nothing at all in it of life, sap, or savor.
It has been dead long ago and hung up to dry till not a particle of
juice remains in it.

But, on the other hand, you hear a man pray who does pray–whose soul
is fully in communion with God–and what life and freshness is there!
It may be that his expressions are somewhat rough, but they touch you
because they come from his heart. Some of the confessions and petitions
are strange to you, perhaps, and yet you feel that they are such
strangers as it behooves you to be joyous at once! You are glad that
such words and thoughts have passed through your spirit and blessed
you! You feel that you can pray with such persons. Their prayers will
go to Heaven, for they came from Heaven! God has inspired them and
their originality is a part of the manual of the Spirit. I like to hear
a Brother even stop and stammer because he cannot go on–his heart is
too full and he cannot find words. Oh, but it is blessed to get a
little freshness, even if it comes through a breakdown!

I suppose that those dear Friends who pray by the book of Common
Prayer, somehow or other manage to put freshness into their prayers. I
am always glad that they do, for it shows the vigor of their piety. As
for me, I am such a poor, weak thing, that after I have repeated the
same words about half-a-dozen times, they do me no good. I must use
words that suit the time and suit the state of my heart–and suit my
desires and suit my depressions or my joys–and suit my thankful or
mournful heart! One seems to need in prayer something fresh, but when
the prayer is old and worn–and seems to have been brushed and turned
and very little made of it, after all–why, then it does not strike us,
or impress us, or help us! I like to feel freshness even in singing a
hymn. It may be that we know the words, but then we must put fresh
heart into them and feel them over again as much as if we were the
authors of them! Then they become a grand vehicle for our praises! How
sweet to sing, as it were, a new song! It is a blessed thing to have a
freshness about our devotions, be they private or public, exultant or
repentant.

And so, dear Friends, it is well to have a freshness about our
feelings. I know that we do not hope to be saved by our
feelings–neither do we put feeling side by side with faith–yet I
should be very sorry to be trusting and yet never feeling. Surely it
would be a dead faith! It would be a strange thing to be a living child
of God and to have no feelings. I will tell you about feelings as they
strike me. Sometimes I have deplored the condition of my heart before
God and thought my feelings to be the worst that could be. But what a
foolish judge I have been, for in a week's time I have needed to have
those despised feelings over, again, and thought that now, at last, I
had fallen into a worse state than before. I am persuaded that we are
very poor judges of the value of our own inward feelings, and, perhaps,
when we are lowest in our own esteem we are really highest in the sight
of God.

And when we feel as if we did not pray, we are praying, and the heart
may be wrestling with God more when it fears that it does not pray than
when you come down complacently out of yours closet and say, "I know
that I have had a good time, for I feel perfectly self-satisfied." I
long for the Truth of God in the inward parts and wisdom in the secret
places of the soul. Anything is good which rids us of pretense! Oh to
be broken into splinters by the hand of God! And for every grain of
dust to cry out to Him! I believe this mode of praying often prospers
beyond any other. At any rate, give me not stereotyped pretension to
feeling, but fresh feeling. Whether it is joy or sorrow, let it be
living feeling, fresh from the deep fountains of the heart! Whether it
is exultation or depression, let it be true and not superficial or
simulated! I hate the excitement which needs to be pumped up. There is
a something delightful, to my mind, in coming to the Throne of Grace,
weeping–a something delightful in coming to the Lord's Supper full of
joy and gladness–to come to either place cold and dead is horrible!
There is something delicious in knowing that what you feel is true and
comes up from the very bottom of your soul. That it has a point and
edge about it which proves how sincere it is. God keep us from stale
feelings and may He give us freshness of emotion!

I believe, dear Friends, that there is a very great beauty and
excellence in freshness of utterance. Do not hinder yourself from that.
How I long for it as a preacher! When one has, day after day, to stand
before the same assembly and to talk of the things of God, one dreads
lest he should be so monotonous and full of repetition that even the
things of God should come to be a weariness to God's own people! I have
often thought that if some Brothers who are very careful to speak
exceedingly well what they say, should be a little more careless and
speak as it comes–letting their heart flow over

at their lips spontaneously–then there would be a far greater
freshness about their utterance than there is when every sentence
smells of the lamp and reeks of midnight oil!

God forbid that we should say a word against the deep study and the
profound research of God's Word, but still, we may get to be so much
students that we scarcely speak like practical men who live among the
people! By aiming at a very superior style, we may fall into a
thoroughly inferior one and all our freshness may be gone. I like, for
my part, the wild bird's note. Men get the bullfinch and teach it to
sing a few notes–and then the piping bullfinch is greatly prized. But
I have finches outside my window, any one of which will beat any finch
in the world that only pipes a note or two, for they pipe much more
melodiously, though they were never taught except by God and Nature!
There is a range of sweetness about their wild notes that a tutored
bird cannot reach. Nature, pure and unsophisticated, is the best
instrument for Divine Grace.

I like to hear men speak of God as they have known Him, every man in
his own order, and with his own voice. Coming fresh, perhaps, from the
very haunts of sin, out of which free Grace has fetched them, let them
speak like Israelites fresh from the brick kilns! Coming from the
plow-tail or from the forge with all the equipment of their trade about
them and speaking just as they are. Without pretending to be anything
else than they are and telling of God's amazing love to them–not
quoting the experience of others, but giving out their own–this will
be their wisdom and strength! Oh, there is a freshness about that and a
great power to catch the ear and to move the heart when God, the Holy
Spirit, is present to bless it!

Now, you that have lately been converted, do not go and learn all the
pretty phrases that we are accustomed to use. Do not go and sit down at
the feet of your dear teacher in the class and feel that you must talk
just like he. Strike out your own course. Be yourself! "But I would be
odd," you say. All right–so is your pastor! You need not mind that.
You will not be the only odd body about. Be encouraged by that! I think
that a little of what people call oddness is just, after all, leaving
God's work alone. All the trees that God makes are odd. The Dutchmen
clip them round or make them into peacocks, but that style of gardening
is not to our mind.

But some people say, "What a lovely tree!" I say, "What a horribly ugly
thing it is." Why not let the tree grow as God would have it? Do not
clip yourselves round or square, but keep your freshness! There will be
no two Christians exactly alike if they do that. There should be a
freshness, dear Friends, about our labor. We ought to serve the Lord,
today, with just as much novelty in it as there was 10 years ago. I may
even venture to say 30 years ago! Oh, I remember the seriousness with
which I went out to preach the first half-dozen sermons I ever
preached–and what a burden it was from the Lord! And how I did go at
it with all my might? Very clumsily, but still with all my soul and
spirit!

And do you remember when you began to teach the class, or began to take
your tract district? Did you not pray over it? It seemed almost too
good to be true that you should be trusted with doing anything for your
Lord and Master! And you did it, oh, so intensely and, therefore, you
had God's blessing! You did it well, though you blundered a good deal,
for all your heart was in it, your motive was pure and your faith was
childlike. You blundered the right way, for you blundered with your
heart and so blundered into other men's hearts! Your heart was serving
God, even in the mistakes you made.

And now, perhaps, you can go round the district and you are pretty well
half-asleep over it. And you can teach the class, but there is not the
vigor, the force, the energy, the intense desire, the burden that there
once was–perhaps not all the joy. You can stand up and preach, dear
Brother, and you have got pretty well accustomed to it–and the people
have got accustomed to it, too–and they can nearly go to sleep! And
you can, too–preach asleep! It is an easy thing to do, if you once
learn the wretched art. There is a kind of sleep-walking in
preachers–they can talk in their sleep in a very precise way–much
more wonderful than walking! You cannot say, "I sleep, but my heart
wakes." The fact is that it is the other way around–"I wake, but my
heart sleeps"–and it is a great pity when it comes to be so.

We should pray to God that we may do everything fresh, just as if we
had never done it before, only doing it with all the improvements which
experience will bring to us! Pray with your children, tonight, as if it
were your first prayer with them! Speak with them about their souls as
if you had never mentioned the subject before. Talk of Jesus as if you
were telling new news! Why, aren't you? Is it not always glad tidings?
Always news fresh from Heaven? May God grant us Grace that, when we
come to be gray and when we totter with our staff for very age–we may
still tell out the story, if

with feebleness of utterance, yet with juvenility of heart–feeling
that we are bringing forth fruit even to old age, for the Lord still
anoints us with fresh oil!

So much for the beauty and excellence of freshness. It ought to run
into everything.

II. Now, dear Friends, in the second place, I will dwell upon the fear
of losing it–THE FEAR OF ITS DEPARTURE. I have heard some express the
thought that perhaps the things of God might lose their freshness to us
by our familiarity with them. I think that the very reverse will turn
out to be the case if the familiarity is that of a sanctified heart. In
other things, "familiarity breeds contempt," but in the things of God,
familiarity breeds adoration. The man who does not read his Bible much
is the man who has a scant esteem of it. But he that studies it both
day and night is the very man who will be impressed by its infinitude
of meaning till he will be ready to cry, like Jerome, "I adore the
infinity of Scripture."

I know that he that prays most loves prayer most and he that is most
occupied with the praises of God is the very person who wishes that he
could praise God day and night without ceasing. These things grow on
you. Hence I would have no man fear that familiarity with holy things
can take away from their freshness and their beauty! You may drink at
other wells till you are no longer thirsty, but, strange to say, this
all thirst-quenching water, nevertheless, produces a much deeper thirst
after its own self. He that eats of the Bread of Heaven shall hunger
for no other, but shall grow ravenous for it. His capacity for feeding
upon it shall be increased by that which he has fed upon. And, whereas
at first, the crumbs from under the table might have satisfied him when
he knew himself to be but a dog, at last, when he knows himself to be a
child of God, he wishes for everything that is set upon the table!–

"Less than Yourself will not suffice My comfort to restore."

He must have all that is to be had! Such is his desire. Dismiss, then,
any fear from your minds about that.

When we first commenced to break bread on every first day of the week,
I heard some say that they thought that the coming so often to the
Table might take away the impressiveness of the holy feast. Well, I
have scarcely ever missed a Sabbath, now, these 20 years, and I never
was so impressed with the solemnity and the sweetness of the Master's
Supper as I am now! I feel it to be fresher every time. When it was
once a month, I had not half the enjoyment in it, and I think that
where friends have the communion once a quarter, or once a year, as in
some Churches, they really do not give the ordinance a fair opportunity
to edify them. They do not fairly test the value of an ordinance which
they so grossly neglect, as it seems to me. No, you may have more, and
more, and more, and more of everything that Christ has instituted and
ordained, especially more and more of Himself–and the more you have,
the more freshness there will be!

"Yes, but we have had a fear, sometimes, that there will be a lack of
freshness about ourselves." Well, that fear is a very natural one. Let
me tell you some points on which, I fear, we have good ground of alarm,
for we do our best to rob ourselves of all life and freshness.
Christian people can lose the freshness of themselves by imitating one
another. By adopting as our model some one form of the Christian life
other than that which is embodied in the Person of our Lord, we shall
soon manufacture a set of paste gems, but the diamond flash and glory
will be unknown. Many godly people have a very deep sense of their
corruption and inward sin and this, together with sorrowful spirit,
combines to make them a rather gloomy race. Often deeply taught in
other respects, they fail to rejoice in the Lord.

Certain of these have formed a school and they have set up a standard
and judge everybody to be a deceiver or a mere babe in Grace who cannot
groan as deep down as they can. This is not wise. If you do that, you
will lose your freshness, for you will forever be scattering your dust
and ashes over all the joys of your life. Why should the children of
the bride-chamber mourn while the Bridegroom is with them? Let us be
happy while we may! There is another set of Brethren who are always
glad and happy, for they are healthy and competently provided for. They
think they are out of the way of temptation and so they believe that
they are perfect–they also set up a standard and cut down everybody
who cannot sing right up into the alto notes as high as they can! Well,
you will get stale, too, Brothers and Sisters, whoever you may be, for
self-laudation never keeps fresh long!

When we have heard about half-a-dozen brethren boasting that they are
nearly perfect, it is about as much as some of us can stomach! I cannot
stand above two of them without feeling my boxing propensities set in
motion! Poor fools, how have they persuaded themselves to hope that
self-praise will be thought to be the height of piety? It is nauseous,
even, to those of us who are prepared to make a measure of excuse for
the fervid imaginations of the brethren! Drop into one par-

ticular groove and run in it–take up one line of things and stick to
it–and you will very soon find yourself as far from freshness as a bit
of leather which has been worked on an engine to revolve forever and
ever in the same course! The beauty of real life lies much in its
variety.

A Brother comes to me on Sunday morning sighing. Thank you, Brother,
for that! I am glad that you are in that state, for that is where I am!
And we can sympathize with each other. Perhaps tomorrow I meet this
same friend and he is full of joy and delight, and I say, "Thank you,
Brother, I am glad to meet with somebody who is rejoicing in the Lord.
You give me a lift. Now shall I be helped to rejoice in Him, too."
Sometimes, in this pilgrimage to the Celestial City, I join company
with a Brother worker who laments that he has many difficulties in
dealing with poor sinners. I say to him, "I am glad of that, for I have
more difficulties than you, but I see that I am not alone in my
anxieties." Another I meet with says that he has been so happy in
meeting with souls that have found the Lord and I reply, "Yes, and I am
glad to see you, for I am happy, too, for I have met with many who have
just found the Savior."

These changes and ups and downs are like the delicious variations of
the seasons–they are not always autumn, not always spring, not always
winter, not always, even, the plenitude of summer. So with our souls,
we are never so long in one place as to find monotony in life. No, the
monotony is in death–the freshness is in life! These changes and
varieties create a splendid freshness which we might not hope to have
if we tied ourselves to one man's chariot and resolved that our
experience should be uniformly like his. Another way of spoiling your
freshness is by repression. The feebler sort of Christians dare not
say, feel, or do, until they have asked their leader's permission. I
have known a little village chapel in which, when the preacher had
delivered a sermon, the people did not know whether he was sound or not
till they had asked the principal deacon! Or they waited till they got
outside and consulted a little knot of good old men and women who had
to act as tasters for all the others and give a verdict as to the
orthodoxy of the performance! A few good souls thought the sermon to be
very sweet–the man seemed to be preaching the Gospel–but they did not
like to commit themselves to the tune till they had got the key note.
And when they had seen the Brother that led them all, then they knew!
If he said that it was all right, why, then it was all right!

Now, dear Friend, if you feel that God is blessing you in any religious
exercise, mind that you are blessed and let other people who do not
like to be blessed go without it if they must. But as for you, be
blessed when you can! Do not be ashamed to enjoy that which others
despise. Sit down and quietly feast on the kernel while others are
breaking their teeth over the shells. If you feel that you must sing,
sing without stint! Why not? In the kitchen–in the parlor–sing! Never
mind if remarks are made. Do not worldlings sing to their own
liking–why shouldn't you? If sometimes you feel that you cannot sing,
well, then, do not sing! Be yourself and be natural as Divine Grace
makes you natural–that is the thing. Let your mind have freedom and do
not feel as if you went about in fetters, bound to this and pledged to
that!

In the living kingdom of the living God there is no rule that you groan
at eight o'clock in the morning and sing at noon; that you sigh at
half-past three and get the plenitude of the Spirit at a quarter past
seven! Nothing of the kind! It is a free Spirit under whose power we
dwell and He comes like the wind and goes like the wind–and acts
according to His own pleasure. Lord, uphold me with "Your free Spirit."
Do not repress Him. "Quench not the Spirit." Yield yourselves to His
influences and if you feel inclined to shout, be brave enough to do
so–and give the praise to God! This is a successful way of keeping up
freshness–to be rid of repression and to be free before God.

If we want to keep up our freshness, however, the main thing is never
to fall into neglect about our souls. Do you know what state the man is
generally in when you are charmed by his freshness? Is he not in fine
health? Some of my dear friends were known to call and see me when I
was laid up some time ago–and I am afraid that they did not find much
freshness about me, then! On the contrary, they heard much the same old
story–weary nights and painful days. I hope I did not display much
impatience, but still, the tendency is to give a good deal of telling
of what one has to endure! There is not much freshness about that.

But a man is fresh, generally, when he is well and everything is going
right within his internal economy. Then he thinks fresh thoughts and
uses fresh words, for all around him life is in its flowery age and
sparkles like the morning! I am sure that it is so with the soul. When
the soul is healthy–when you are feeding on the Bread of Heaven; when
you are living near to God; when you are believing the promises and
embracing them; when you are getting into the very sunlight of the
Lord's fellowship–oh, it is then that fresh words and striking words
not often heard will drop from you!

Pearls will fall from your lips if those lips have been with Jesus, and
He has kissed you with the kisses of His mouth! Do not neglect
yourself, then! Let the fountain of the heart be right and then the
freshness will speedily be seen.

I have shown you the things by which a man may lose his
freshness–avoid them carefully. Those of you who are workers for God
may have a fear that you will lose the freshness of yours utterances–a
fear which haunts a good many of us. Now, that may happen to us by our
own fault if there is a need of searching the Word of God; if there is
a need of fresh acquisitions of sacred knowledge. And it may happen to
us, again, if we are always gathering the thoughts of others and do not
think, ourselves. Then we shall lose freshness and become mere dealers
in second-hand observations. Many thoughtful Brothers and Sisters are
afraid that they may lose it through age. It does happen to men, as
they grow old, that much of the vivacity of youth departs. And we all
know ministers who have lost much of their power to edify because their
freshness and variety have gone. It is a sad thing that it should have
to be so with any of us, but what a blessed thing it is if we can fall
back upon that assurance, "I shall be anointed with fresh oil."

Nature decays, but Grace shall thrive. The Holy Spirit will renew our
youth. The Grace of God can give us freshness after Nature has ceased
to yield it. And it shall be a better freshness–not the dew of our
youth, but the dew of the Spirit of the Lord! If Jesus Christ is
preached, age becomes an important help in bearing testimony to His
faithfulness and power to bless. I can imagine it to be the duty of the
aged minister to retire from the prominent sphere where he has long
been the preacher–and I hope in my own case I shall not occupy this
pulpit an hour too long! But the man of God can find another
pulpit–and when he has found it, I can suppose him often beginning his
youth, again, as he tells out the story of the Cross and talks of
Jesus–and proclaims the Doctrines of Grace again! He can begin in his
country sphere much in the same way as he set out at the first. At any
rate, he has always this to fall back upon," I shall be anointed with
fresh oil." The Holy Spirit will abide with him continually and give
him an anointing of freshness.

And so with you, dear Friends. You think, when you have done addressing
the class, "Well, I am pretty well spun out. I shall never be able to
get another address." Shall you not? Read that– "I shall be anointed
with fresh oil." And you that go out preaching in the villages and
often cry, "I do not know what I shall do for a sermon next Sunday,"
think of this and be consoled–"I shall be anointed with fresh oil."
Fall back on that! If you are called to speak to the same people for
any length of time, it will make the promise all the more dear to you,
as you can plead it before God, "Lord, anoint Your servant with fresh
oil." I pray that all of us in heart, soul, life, utterance and labor
may always be kept fresh and may God grant that we do not backslide,
for that would kill our freshness and put in the place of its sweet
smell the foul odors of sin!

Oh to be holy, sweet and vigorous to the end! The Lord grant that we
may make large drafts upon Himself for greater faith, greater love, and
greater joy–then shall we have greater freshness! May we also be
sustained from within by His blessed Spirit and so may our freshness
continue to our dying day.

III. I close with the third point, which is this precious Word of God
which gives us HOPE OF ITS RENEWAL. Let us not think that we must grow
stale and heavenly things grow old with us, for, first, our God in whom
we trust renews the face of the year. He is beginning His work, again,
in the fair processes of Nature. The dreary winter has passed away. The
time of the singing of birds is coming on and the sweet flowers are
peeping out from their graves, enjoying a resurrection of' glory and
beauty.

Now, this is the God whom we serve, and if we have been passing through
our wintertime, let us look for our spring. If any of you have been
growing cold of late–if any of you have grown stale and mechanical and
have fallen into ruts– come, look up! Look up and pray the great
Renewer to visit you–

"Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all Your quickening powers."
"He restores my soul: He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His
name's sake." It will not take the Lord long to restore you. "His word
runs very swiftly." He speaks even to ice and frost and by His word
they pass away. He has but to will it and all the genial days of spring
and summer come hastening on and the banner of harvest is waving.
"Awake you that sleeps and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give
you light." Be hopeful! Be joyful! There are better days for you. Put
your trust in God, who renews the face of the earth, and look for His
Spirit to revive you.

Moreover, there is an excellent reason why you may expect to have all
your freshness coming back–it is because Christ dwells in you! Do you
not know it? Christ is formed in you the hope of Glory and, if so, your
glory will be fresh

about you, for He never grows stale. It is God that said of Him, "You
have the dew of Your youth." Oh, the doctrine of the indwelling of
Christ in the Believer–let us never forget it! As long as that is a
Truth of God, there is always a hope for us. Then there is the other
grand doctrine of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. He dwells in you!
If your bodies are the temples of the Holy Spirit, shall He not always
be to you a fountain of new life–a spring of fresh delights? Why, it
must be so! The Holy Spirit is not exhausted. His power is not lessened
in any degree whatever. He can make your face shine, again, and your
tongue sing again! He can make your heart leap, again, with unspeakable
joy!

Come, you that sit in the dust, begin to rejoice, for God the Spirit is
still with you and shall be with you–the Comforter whom Christ has
given–never to be taken away! Rejoice in Him and ask Him, now, in His
mercy, to restore your soul, and He will do it! Oh, what a blessing it
is to get right deep down into God's Word, for that Word is always new
and the source of new thoughts in those who feed upon it! This is the
Book of yesterday, today and forever–the Book which, though many of
its verses were written thousands of years ago, is as new as though it
were only written yesterday! From the mouth of God come the promises,
at this moment, full of life and freshness and power! Come to it! It is
all yours–every acre of this blessed land of Canaan is yours and will
yield you corn and wine and oil!

There is not a star in the great firmament of Scripture but shines for
you! There is not a text in all this mighty treasury of God but you may
take it and spend it and live upon the produce! Therefore, while the
Word of the Lord is so fresh and so full, it cannot be that you shall
be stale in thought and conversation. You shall be anointed with fresh
oil! God Himself is with you and He is always full! God Himself is with
you and He is always living! God Himself is with you and He is always
fresh–and He shall refresh your spirit! Why stay away? Come from all
that is stale and flat and from all the dead past–and enter into
eternal life where flowers forever bloom, fruits forever ripen–and the
fresh springs forever flow!

Come and eat the new corn of the land and drink the new wine of the
kingdom! And may the Lord make you glad in His House of Prayer for
Jesus' sake! Amen.
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God's Fatherly Pity