“On His Breast”

"On His Breast"

INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S DAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1888,

BY C H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"Now there was leaning on Jesus 'bosom one of His disciples, whom Jesus
loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoned to him, that he should ask who it
should be of whom He spoke. He then lying on Jesus 'breast said unto
Him, Lord, who is it? Jesus answered, He it is to whom I shall give a
sop, when I have dipped it. And when he had dipped the sop, he gave it
to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon." John 13:23-26.

PICTURE the Lord and His Apostles at the holy Supper. A world of
interest centers here. Two figures, strangely different, met in this
scene–met, shortly afterwards to part and never to meet again. To look
upon them, they seemed equally disciples of Jesus and from the position
which one of them occupied, as leaning on the Lord's bosom and the
other as the treasurer of the Master's little store, they seemed to be
equally trusted and honored followers of the great Lord. You might not
have known, by mere sight, which was the better man of the two–John or
Judas.

Most probably you would have preferred the gentle manners of John. But
I should suppose–for our Lord never chose a man to an office unless he
had some qualification–you would also have admired the calm prudence
of Judas and his quiet business tact. No doubt you would have thought
that he made an excellent treasurer and you would have been glad that
your Master, with so little to spare, had lighted upon so vigilant a
guard and so prudent a manager. They sat at the same table, engaged in
the same exercises and looked much the same kind of men. None of us
would have guessed that one of them was John the Divine and the other
was Judas the devil.

One of them was the seer of the Apocalypse, the other was the son of
perdition. No doubt there are strange mixtures of character in this
very house tonight. There will come to this Table the disciple whom
Jesus loves. Him we will welcome, saying, "Come in, you blessed of the
Lord." Alas, there may come here a son of perdition. Him we cannot
chase away, for we cannot read his heart. For a time both may act and
even feel alike. They may even wear well for years. Apparently they may
be equally sincere. And yet the day will come when to the right, in his
love and his integrity, the faithful disciple will wend his way up to
his Master's bosom forever.

And to the left, the hypocrite will go to his dreadful end and to that
Hell which must receive such traitors as he. There is something very
solemn about this meeting of such strangely different characters in one
common act and in the society of the same Divine Lord. John is here. Is
Judas here? Let the question be started and passed round, "Lord, is it
I?" He is the least likely to be the traitor who is nearest to his
Lord's heart. He who occupies such a place as John did is not the
betrayer. Oh that we might be fired with a loving ambition to be the
disciple whom Jesus loved, leaning on Jesus' bosom!

For then, though we ask the question, "Lord, is it I?" it will not
linger long upon our hearts. For His love, shed abroad within them,
shall answer every question of self-examination and we shall cry,
"Lord, You know all things, You know that I love You." Let that stand
as an introduction. Glance at yourself and your Brethren at the table
and say– How far shall we be like our Lord and the twelve? Will Peter
and James and John and Judas all live over again in the assembly of
tonight for the breaking of bread? And now our remarks will be very
simple.

I. And the first is this–SOME DISCIPLES ARE SPECIALLY LOVED OF THEIR
LORD. We believe in the doctrine of election but the principle of
election goes to be carried farther than some suppose. There is an
election in the midst of the election and another within that. The
wider circle contains the inner and a still more select circle forms
the innermost ring of all. The Lord had a people around Him who were
His disciples. Within them He had twelve. Within the twelve He had
three. Within the three He had one disciple whom He loved. And I
suppose that what took place

around His blessed Person on earth takes place on a larger scale around
His adorable Person which is the center of His Church both militant and
triumphant.

Probably our Lord's attachment to John was partly a human one. And so
far as it were human, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet
now after the flesh we know Him no more. Any merely human affection
which our Lord Jesus bore for John may have passed away. There may,
also, have been such affection in Jesus toward John as there would be
in any eminent Christian towards another Christly Believer–in anyone
whom the Lord made to be a leader of His Church, towards such-and-such
a member of that Church in whom He could see most of the lovely
characteristics of Himself. I cannot but think that it was so.

But it strikes me that our Lord Jesus loved John in some measure more
than the rest, in the entirety of His character, as Jesus Christ, the
Son of God as well as the Son of Man. We know that He loved all His
disciples. For when my Brother read the chapter just now, how like
music did those words sound, "Having loved His own which were in the
world, He loved them unto the end"! He loved not some of His own. But
all of them. He loved all His own then and He loves all His own now.
There is infinite love in the heart of Jesus towards all His people.
And if there are any degrees in that love, yet the lowest degree is
inconceivably great.

The very least member of the Divine family may say, "He loved me and
gave Himself for me." He loves us beyond all human expression. Beyond
all human conception. The great heart of the eternal Father, the great
heart of the eternal Son, the great heart of the ever-blessed Spirit,
the great heart of the Trinity in unity, beats with love–with love to
all the elect, to all the redeemed, to all the called, to all the
sanctified people of God. We are quite sure of this. Yet that love has
this difference about it, that it is more enjoyed by some on earth than
by others.

It is clear, as a matter of fact, that the Divine Love is manifested to
some more clearly than to others. My beloved Brethren, you must know
this to be the case. For there are those among us who walk with God,
who enjoy the light of Jehovah's countenance, at all times. Who, if
depressed, have the art of rolling their burden upon the Lord and soon
are delivered from it. You know them, they are the Brethren who feel
like singing all the while, for Jesus is their Friend, and they rejoice
in Him. There was one in the Old Testament who was called "a man
greatly beloved," and there are Daniels on earth even now. Christ has
among women still His Marys, whom He loves. He loved Martha, too. But
still there was a special place for Mary.

Jesus has still His Johns, whom He peculiarly loves. He loves Peter and
Nicodemus and Nathanael and all of them. But still, there are some who
know His love more than others, live in it more than others, drink of
it more than others, reflect it more than others and become more
conformed to it and saturated with it and perfumed with it, than others
are. There are first as well as last. All may be of Israel but all the
tribes are not Judah and in Judah all the men are not Davids. Who shall
deny that there are degrees in Divine Grace? Have we not among us babes
and young men and fathers? Have we not first the blade, then the ear
and then the full corn in the ear? It is so.

And though I will not argue for degrees in Heaven and, indeed,
deprecate the spirit in which the doctrine of degrees in Glory is often
set forth, yet we are sure, for we see it with our eyes, that there are
degrees of Divine Grace and especially degrees in the enjoyment of the
love of Jesus. Among those who do really love their Lord and are really
loved by Him, one star differs from another in the glory of that love.

Why was John made "that disciple whom Jesus loved"? Certainly it was
not because he was naturally higher in rank than the others, for he was
a fisherman, like the most of them. And James was certainly equal in
birth, for he was his brother. Our blessed Lord did not love John
because of any excess of talent–albeit that John's Apocalypse and his
Gospel are, in some respects, the highest parts of revealed Scripture,
being both the simplest and the most mysterious portions of Holy Writ.
Yet we should not say that John betrayed evidence of so great a mind in
itself, naturally, or by education, as Paul had.

He had as much talent as His Lord gave him but there was nothing about
him so special that he should for that cause have been loved. And to
dismiss the thought with a word, Jesus never loves men on account of
talent and we should be unwise if we ourselves did so. These things are
external to the man. Our Lord loved John, especially, for a better
reason than that. Why did our blessed Lord love John better than
others? I can only reply that He exercises a sovereignty of choice and
it is not for us to ask the why and wherefore of the movements of the
sacred heart. Surely, nothing should be left so free as the love of the
Son of God. Let Him love whom He wills. He has an unquestionable right
to do so.

But if we venture reverently to look into the familiar love of Jesus,
we shall not fail to see that there was about John, through Divine
Grace, a most loving spirit. Men love those that are like they and
Jesus, as Man, loved John because the processes of Grace had developed
in John the image of Jesus. John, like his Lord, had much love. He may
have lacked some qualities in which Peter and James and others excelled
but he towered above them all in love. He was full of tenderness, and
therefore, his Master at once selected him to be His choicest companion
and His dearest friend. You know the way, then, to the heart of
Christ–let your own heart be full of love and you will know His love.
He loves you, you know, altogether apart from anything that is in you,
of His own rich and Sovereign Grace.

But for the special manifestation of that love, for your personal
enjoyment of it, to fit you for such enjoyment, you must have much love
to Him. You greatly need, not a great head, but a great heart. You must
have, not more knowledge, but more affection. Not a higher rank in
society, but a higher rank in the power to love Jesus and to love your
fellow men. Less of self, and more of Jesus and then you shall enjoy
more of His love. This being the case, that John had this loving spirit
and our Lord Jesus Christ loved him more than others, it led on to the
fact that John was the recipient of confidences from Christ which
others had not.

I will show you that farther on. But certainly it seems to me that John
was made by Jesus His executor and He left him in His will all His
earthly possessions. You will say to me, "And pray what possessions had
the Master?" Well, He had one possession of which He was very fond and
He could not die until He had disposed by His last will and testament
of that one earthly possession. It was His mother. He loved her and
must care for her. And there passed a little word, a kind of sign,
between Him and John at the last moment. Do not think that John would
have understood what Jesus meant when He said–"Woman, behold your
son," and, "Son, behold your mother!" if there had not been a quiet
talk about that matter some time before.

But Jesus, I doubt not, had told John that the only earthly care He
had, as Man, was that while He was away slumbering in the grave He
would have his mother cared for. And so He left her in John's charge.
If you love Jesus Christ very much He will leave something in your
charge, depend upon that. And the more you love Him, the more will He
trust you with some loving commission which He would not trust with
anybody else. I have known Him leave a dear child of His, some dear old
saint, for a favored Believer to look after, whom he never would have
had to look after if Jesus had not said–"I love this dear old saint
and I shall commit him–I shall commit her–to the custody of such a
one, because he loves Me and he will take care of this poor one for My
sake."

Some of you have nobody to care for. Little know you of Christ's
trustfulness towards you–He has not trusted you with anything. Do you
not grieve to think that you lack this token of His special love? As
sure as ever there is any intimate love between Jesus and any soul, He
trusts that soul with something to be done, to be endured, to be
guarded, to be mourned over, or in some way to become a sacred trust.
Thus love has occupation, proof, and expression, and this she ever
longs for. I know my Master loves me and I rejoice in His love. And
sometimes, when I think of this great Church and the College and the
Orphanage and the many cares the whole service brings into my heart, I
have said, "Have I begotten all this multitude, that I should carry all
of them in my bosom and bear their griefs and be troubled with their
troubles?" and the answer has always seemed to come to me, "You love Me
and I trust you to look after these souls, to help them and care for
them, for My sake."

It is so with you that have classes to look after, or families to care
for–attend to them, for Jesus' sake. If it is only one little one,
hear Jesus say, "Take this child and nurse it for Me and I will give
you your wages." You have a charge, each one. And if you have none, I
should be afraid you may be Judas, for I cannot think you are John. Had
there been the love between you and the Lord which existed between John
and Jesus, Jesus would have whispered into your ear about somebody of
whom He would say, "Care for him. Care for him for MY sake." And you
would have answered, "Lord, that I will–the more You give to me to do
for You, the more happy will I be, because I love You and because this
trust proves that You do love me."

There is the first head–we perceive Jesus loves some of His disciples
more than others.

II. Now, secondly, we note that THE BELOVED ONES COUNT THIS TO BE THEIR
GREATEST HONOR. This

is evidently in the text. For John, who wrote these words, called
himself, "one of His disciples, whom Jesus loved." And I think three
times besides he speaks of himself as "that disciple whom Jesus loved."
He took his name from his Lord's love, which he evidently counted to be
his greatest honor. This was John's most notable title. As a servant of
the Queen, having

distinguished himself in the service of Her Majesty, becomes the lord
of such-and-such a town and he takes the name of the place as a name of
honor, so John drops his own birth-given name, as it were, and takes
this title instead–"that disciple whom Jesus loves."

He wears it as a Knight of the Garter, or of the Golden Fleece, wears
the mark of his Sovereign's esteem. He took it for his honor. And yet,
Beloved, there was not a grain of boasting in it, nor even an approach
to glorying in the flesh. A sense of love makes us happy but not
haughty. How can I proudly boast that Jesus loves me? If you are loved
of Him, you will feel that you so little merit it–indeed, that you so
altogether demerit it–that you will be amazed to think that He loves
you and it will never enter into your head that His love is your due.
You will take the title of love but you will give the honor back to
Jesus and often you will say–

"And when I shall die,

'Receive me,' I'll cry, For Jesus has loved me, I cannot tell why."

You will not be able to tell why the Lord loves you so. This will be
the wonder of eternity. But there will be no pride in the experience of
being dear to the Lord, nor anything to excite self-laudation. You will
feel that it would be a wicked thing to deny His matchless love but yet
you will not carnally triumph over others because of it. There would be
pride in the affectation of a modesty which would doubt the love of
Jesus but there is no pride in the reception of that love, since you
yourself are so evidently, so conspicuously undeserving, that no one
will dream that Jesus could have loved you because there was anything
good in you.

Now, had John been proud, he would have altered the title thus. He
would have said, "That disciple who loved Jesus." This would have been
true, though not modest. There was, as far as his heart was capable of
it, a reciprocity of love between John and Jesus. If Jesus loved him,
he loved Jesus. But John never called himself, "That disciple who loved
Jesus." No, for he felt as if his own love were altogether unworthy of
mention in the presence of the love of Jesus.

Then notice also, as if to show us that there was no pride in taking
the title, that he does not say, "John was the disciple whom Jesus
loved." We gather from other facts that it was John. All the traditions
and beliefs of the early Church went to testify that it was John. We
have not, any of us, any doubt about the fact that it was John. It has,
as it were, leaked out. But John nowhere says that he was the man. All
that he has said is, "That disciple whom Jesus loved." And thus he
makes the love more conspicuous than the person who received it. We
know that it must have been John for many reasons. But still he does
not say so. He hides John behind the love of Jesus, which proves that
John gloried in the love of Christ but did not boast of it
egotistically.

Bengel tells us that John's name means "the love of Jehovah." If you
look at Cruden's translation, in the list of the meanings of names in
the Concordance, he puts it "the Grace of God," the grace of Jehovah.
Bengel reads it "the love of the Lord"–so John just altered the name a
little and paraphrased it when he wrote, "whom Jesus loved." It would
go into shorter compass if he put it in the Hebrew and would need but
little alteration. Sometimes when men succeed to estates, it is a
condition that they shall change their names–in this case the name was
very little altered from "the loved one of God" into the "loved one of
Jesus Christ." And there is no alteration (is there?) in the real
meaning of it. When he said, "That disciple whom Jesus loved," it was
John "written large." That is all.

It was John a little altered under the New Testament dispensation, the
old name sweetened and perfumed by bringing it near to the sweeter name
of Jesus Christ his Lord. So precious has its nearness to Jesus made
it, that perhaps next to the name of Jesus no name is sweeter than that
of John. As Ivan, or Evan, it has a most evangelical, Gospel, sound. It
is common in many forms throughout Christendom and many of the noblest
disciples have worn it, from John Chrysostom to John Calvin and from
John Bunyan to John Wesley and John Newton. In any case the honor of
being loved by Jesus is greater than the name John. And happy are they
who can claim it!

There are some, then, whom Jesus loves more than others and these men
always count that love to be their highest honor.

III. A step farther. A third remark–that THIS SPECIAL LOVE BRINGS SUCH
MEN SPECIAL PRIVILEGES. It brought to John the first privilege of being
very near to Jesus, his Lord. At that supper he was nearest to the
place which Jesus occupied. You know they lay along at the supper
somewhat in this fashion–leaning upon the left arm, so as to have the
right with which to help themselves to each dish. Now John lay here and
Jesus Christ lay just there–so that,

when John turned a little backward there was the bosom of Jesus for him
to put his head upon. And I suppose that when John asked the question,
"Lord, who is it?" he turned his head over and said into his very ear,
"Lord, who is it?"

Nobody heard what he said. It was just whispered into the ear of his
Lord when his head was in that sacred bosom. And the answer was not
heard by anybody except John. But his position of being nearest was
brought about by his being best loved. He was nearest in fellowship
because dearest in love. Now, Beloved, if you are best loved by Christ,
you live nearest to Him. I am sure of it. If you love Him best and He
loves you best, you will be more in prayer than others. You will spend
more time alone with Jesus than other Christians do. You will abound in
petition and praise. You will read His Word with greater diligence. You
will drink it in with greater delight.

You will live for Him, too, with greater consecration. Your whole time
will be spent in His company. When you are at your work in the house,
or the field, or the shop, you will still be with Him. If you are
better loved than others, your daily song will be–

"The day is dark, the night is long, Unblest with thoughts of You, And
dull to me the sweetest song, Unless its theme be You."

"He feeds among the lilies," and keeps near the pure in heart. Our
Well-Beloved's delights are with those who delight in Him. You will be
close to Jesus if you are dear to Him. The two things go together. If
you are living far away in the cold regions of broken fellowship, then
I am sure you have but very little conscious enjoyment of the love of
Jesus Christ your Lord. The dearest must be the nearest. That is the
first privilege.

The second was the privilege of using and receiving tokens of
endearment. He leaned his head on Jesus' bosom, looking up into His
face. And Jesus looked down on him. There was mutual endearment, for
Jesus loved Him and he loved Jesus. And that night, when the blessed
Master was in trouble, He wanted His friend with Him and felt a need
for John, though he could not help Him much. Jesus felt a need of
John's society and sympathy and it made Christ's bosom all the easier
to have John's beloved head on it. As for John, it must have been a
Heaven below to be thus in the bosom of his Lord. He mentions it three
times, you see–twice in this passage and once in the last chapter of
his Gospel, where there was no necessity for mentioning it.

He had such a remembrance of his head having once been laid on his
Lord's breast, that he must put it in when he is speaking about Peter
and himself. He says, "The disciple which also leaned on His breast at
supper and said, Lord, which is he that betrays you?" He must needs
repeat the charming fact, for it was such a delight to him. O Beloved,
we cannot now touch the bosom of Jesus after the flesh, for He is gone
up on high. But there are still most sweet endearments of spirit
between the Lord Jesus and His loving disciples. I must not tell abroad
the secrets of love, for these things are for those that know them and
not for all comers. Choice passages between true hearts are not to be
published in the street, lest they become the theme of ridicule.

Pearls are not to be cast before swine. But believe me, at this moment
we have, or at least we can have, such intimate enjoyment of the love
of Jesus, that even if He were here and we could lean our heads upon
His bosom, the endearment could not be more certain, more sweet, or
more ravishing to our delighted souls. In very truth we have fellowship
with Jesus and that fellowship is no dream or fancy. We speak no
fiction, neither do we repeat what others have experienced but we speak
of things which we have personally enjoyed. And we know that there is
an intimate communion which is one of the private privileges of those
whom Jesus loves much, for it has been our privilege. I hope very many
of you know this choice blessing of living in the immediate enjoyment
of your Savior's love. May you never lose it!

Then is there a third benefit, not only of nearness and endearment but
of confidence towards the Lord. For it was a bold thing, surely, for
John to lean his head on Christ's bosom. Our Lord did not say, "No,
John. No. I am your Master and your Lord. Do you do this to Me as if I
were your equal?" No. The meaning of that blessed text, "Him that comes
to Me I will in no wise cast out," runs in other directions besides
that which we generally think of. If you come to Jesus in the most
intense manner, He will not repulse you. If your head shall come into
His bosom, He will not cast your head out. If you can get your very
heart into His heart and come closer to Him than even John dared to
do–if you carry that coming beyond all previous comings–yet Jesus
neither will, nor can, resent the nearest approaches of anyone of His
believing people.

We lose a great deal of Christ's loving fellowship because we are so
formal and distant towards Him. We seem to think that He came among men
to show them their distance from God and not to be as a Brother to
them, to reveal God to them. Jesus seeks to reach our hearts, He stoops
to our littleness. Let us pluck up courage to draw near to Him. Well
does our hymn put it–

"Let us be simple with Him, then,

Not backward, stiff, or cold;

As though our Bethlehem could be

What Sinai was of old."

Lean on him. Lean on the bosom of the Christ of God who loves us and
has given Himself for us. Make a confidant as well as a confidence of
your Lord. Put all the weight of your care, all the weight of your
whole self, and all that concerns you upon Him and then recline with
delight upon His bosom.

There was a gracious confidence given to John, which he rightly used
towards his Lord. Surely there was a great liberty given to him. Some
would have said he took a liberty in thus leaning where no head of king
or emperor might aspire to rise. He was the most honored of all human
beings. But surely he took great liberties. No, he did not, for the
Lord Himself gave him access with boldness. Great love has privileges
which make her boldest advances no intrusion. Love has the key of all
the rooms of the Father's house. Love has the range of Paradise. Love
may read the very heart of God. Love may come where she wills and go
unchallenged.

John said to our Savior, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus looked down at him
and said, as if He did not want the others to know at all, "He it is to
whom I shall give a sop." He had just to watch a little while. I do not
know but it is not improbable that Judas was next at the table–John
here, then Jesus and then Judas. Very likely Judas was pretty close to
the Lord. For if a man has your purse you want him near you, so as to
tell him what you wish to have done with the money. So, when Jesus just
turned over and gave a sop to Judas, John knew the meaning of the act.
Judas had had his conscience disturbed, I should think, by the
utterance of the Savior, when He said, "He that eats bread with Me has
lifted up his heel against Me," and by the question of each of the
others, "Lord, is it I?"

Judas himself asked that question for a time. But he grew calm again
and became reassured and thought he should not be found out. Then the
Lord dipped a piece of meat, according to the Oriental custom, in the
sauce of the dish and passed it to him. Even then Judas possibly
thought, "This is an act of great friendship. He evidently has the
utmost confidence in me and has not found me out." Little did he know
that the sop was the token of the discovered traitor. Then Judas said,
"Lord, is it I?" thinking he should get a pleasant answer, but Jesus
answered that it was even he and added, "What you do, do quickly."
There that matter ended. But John was thus the recipient of friendly
confidence on the part of Christ–he told to Jesus his heart and Jesus
told him His heart. He had liberty to go to Christ.

Ah, Brethren! Do you ever feel in prayer as if you were tied up and
could not pray? The best of saints will be bound about some things.
People come and ask you to pray for this and pray for that. But you
cannot so pray unless you have liberty from the Throne. If God gives
the prayer of faith, you can pray it–but you cannot pray that prayer
at your own will. He that can most often pray the prayer of faith, he
that can see farthest into Christ's mysteries, he that can read the
riddles of this Divine Samson, is the man whose heart loves Jesus best
and whose head lies most in the bosom of his Lord. Be sure of this–if
you love much, you shall know the secret of the Lord–for it is with
them that fear Him He will show His Covenant.

Now a step farther and a very little more and we have done. This
creates special knowledge. I merely give it as a head to help your
memories, for I have already dwelt upon it as a matter of fact. The
special privileges of love lead on to a special knowledge of Christ. I
do not think that any other Evangelist notices Christ's emotion at the
supper in the matter of His spirit as John has done. He writes, "When
Jesus had thus said, He was troubled in spirit," and so on. John was so
close to the Lord, with his head on His breast, that he could tell, by
the heaving of His bosom, that he was troubled. The mind of God is not
so revealed to any man now that he can set up to foretell the future
like a Prophet. But, mark you, the choice ones among the saints have
intimations of the mind of God about many things.

Those who live at court can often foresee the king's movements when
others cannot. It is my firm conviction that favored Believers have
tokens, warnings and hints from above. Did not the Lord say, "Shall I
hide from Abraham that thing which I do?" Even the choicest spirits may
not understand the Lord's meaning all at once. But if any man can read
anything of the future, it is he that puts his head where all eyes grow
clear and all hearts become pure, even upon the

breast of Jesus. Oh, to know Christ! The day will come when the saints
of God who are great classics, mathematicians, or astronomers–and
there have been godly men skilled in all the sciences–the day, I say,
shall come when these will count all they know of science to be of
little worth compared with the excellency of the knowledge of Christ
Jesus their Lord.

Brethren, we value knowledge, culture, science. But when we put them at
their highest market price, what are they as compared with the
knowledge of Jesus? This is my one ambition–that I may know Him and
may comprehend with all saints what are the heights and depths and
lengths and breadths and know the love of Christ which passes
knowledge. If you love your Lord, you shall know of His doctrine. If
you live near Him, you shall understand His feelings. If His secret is
with you, you shall know what Prophets and kings desired to know and
what angels desire to look into. The Lord bless you and bring each one
of you who are His people into this happy condition.

I have done, when I notice two things. The first is this–that the
favored position which John occupied did not screen him from the
necessity of asking the question, "Lord, is it I?" There really was no
suspicion of him, nor any reason for such suspicion. But his heart was
in a right state and, therefore, he felt it necessary to say, "Lord, is
it I?" as well as any of the rest. And I make this remark because the
very persons who do not say, "Lord, is it I?" are those who ought to
say it. If you are enjoying more of God's love tonight than ever you
did in your life, yet do not profess to have climbed above the need of
self-examination, when the question comes, "Are you really one of His?"
do not chase it away, as if it were an impertinence?

Entertain the enquiry till you can satisfy it with a sufficient answer.
Some professors can afford to sneer at holy anxiety. May I never be of
their number! I have heard them ridicule the question–

"Do I love the Lord or no? Am I His, or am I not?"

Now, I do not hesitate to say that every man who loves the Lord has had
to ask that question. And has had to ask it all the more because the
truth and fervency of his love have made him jealous of himself. He has
such an overwhelming sense of what his love ought to be and he has such
a consciousness of shortcoming, that he is quite sure to say, "Do I
love the Lord?" It is not your bold talker that is your true lover
after all. There is a confidence which is fatal–

"He who never doubted of his state, He may–perhaps he may too late."

If you say, "I am rich and increased in goods and have need of
nothing," while you are naked and poor and miserable, it will be a sad
deception and the awakening out of it will be sadder still. But if you
say, "Oh that I loved my Redeemer more! Oh that I served Him better!
But I do love Him. My heart is His and He does love me," then you have
answered the question of, "Lord, is it I?" and you may go your way
contented.

The other remark, with which I finish, is this–that John's nearness to
Christ did not authorize him to make answer to his fellow disciples,
nor to judge any of them. Time was when John might have sat in judgment
over them. Did he not desire to sit upon a throne judging the twelve
tribes of Israel with his brother James? But now that he has his head
in his Lord's bosom, he is not anxious to judge, but far otherwise. His
Brethren keep asking, "Lord, is it I?" Peter makes signs to him.
Fishermen have ways of their own of talking to one another. Peter seems
to say, without the use of words, "Pray ask the Master." John does not
presume to make a guess as to the traitor's name but he softly says,
"Lord, who is it?" He asked that question of his Lord. But he did not
himself pitch upon Judas.

No, he might, perhaps, have laid his suspicions upon someone else who
would have been innocent. It was wise to refer the matter to the Lord.
Some say that they live very near to Jesus. It is an evil sign when men
speak of their own attainments. These are the people who, in the next
breath, begin to condemn others. But this is not after the manner of
the beloved John. Some professors affirm that they are going to have a
particularly fine place in Glory, all by themselves. I do not quite
understand their theory but I am sure I do not grudge any of my
Master's servants any special honor they may desire. As far as I
understand them, there is to be a separate place in the kingdom for
them, and we poor, ordinary Christians are to be saved–but we must
take a lower room. So let it be. We will rejoice in the promotion of
our Brethren.

As for myself, if it should ever come to pass that I should have the
privilege of living in some first avenue in Heaven among the
aristocracy of the skies, I think I should prefer another quarter. I
have kept company on earth with such a poor lot of Brethren and I have
learned to love them so well that I would rather abide with them in
their inferior Heaven

than rise with the cream of the cream into the upper places. I like to
be with God's people of the poorer class and of the more struggling and
afflicted sort. I like to be with God's people who wrestle hard with
sins and doubts and fears. If I get spoken to by my very superior
Brethren, I find that I have very little pleasant fellowship with them,
for I know nothing about their wonderful experience of freedom from
conflict and complete deliverance from every evil tendency.

I have never won an inch of the way to Heaven without fighting for it.
I have never lived a day but I have had to sorrow over my
imperfections. I sometimes get near to God but at that time I weep most
about my faults and failings. Although I have thus spoken after the
manner of men, I do not believe in these superior beings, nor in their
superior Heaven–but even if I did, I would sooner follow with the
flock than run ahead with the greyhounds.

These Brethren judge us and condemn us. They say that we do not
understand "the mystery of the kingdom," or something or other. We know
Jesus Christ, however–both theirs and ours. We will not deny their
piety and grace but bless God that they have so much of them. We hope,
however, to get to Heaven the same as they and into Glory the same as
they. And we will be glad if so the Lord will enable us. Do you find
the spirit of self-exaltation and of condemning others coming over you
at times? Conquer it at once by the Holy Spirit's power. Let us cease
to judge where we are forbidden to do so. Let us contend earnestly for
the Truth of God–but as to the hearts of men–let us leave that to
Jesus.

I close by saying–you remember what Jesus said to Peter? Peter was
always a little too fast and he therefore ventured to peer into things
which did not concern him and so he said to Jesus, as he looked at
John, "Lord and what shall this man do?" He did not think badly of
Brother John–I should have been ashamed of Peter if he had done so.
But still he said, "What shall this man do?" Our blessed Lord replied
to him, "What is that to you? Follow you Me." So, when you feel
inclined, because you are growing in Divine Grace and becoming
somebody, to say, "Lord and what shall this poor member do? And what
shall this imperfect Brother be? What shall that poor, blundering new
convert do?"– remember the words of Jesus–"What is that to you?
Follow you Me."

Mind your Master and mind yourself and let your Brethren stand or fall
to their own Lord, as you must. Now, come and lay your head in your
Lord's bosom and never mind Peter. May God bless you, for Christ's
sake!