The Bridgeless Gulf

The Bridgeless Gulf
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 5, 1863, BY THE REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"Beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so
that they which would pass from here to you cannot; neither can they
pass to us, that would come from there."
Luke 16:26.
FOR the last few months I have been led to blow the silver trumpet,
sounding forth the love and mercy of our God in Christ. Many times in
your hearing I have preached a full Christ for empty sinners, and have
set forth the freeness and graciousness of the Divine proclamation
which in the Gospel is made to the chief of sinners. I have not,
concerning that point, shunned to declare unto you the whole counsel of
God. But I feel that I must now blow a blast upon the rough ram's
horn–for sometimes our congregations need to be reminded of the Law
and terrors of God–and of the judgment to come.
Our experience is that the preaching of judgment is greatly blessed of
God. We have remarked that a very large number of conversions have
occurred under those sermons in which the declaration of God's wrath
against all iniquity has been the most plain and solemn. A thunderstorm
clears the air. There are pestilences which would gather beneath the
wings of calm which can only be purged away by the lightning flash.
When God sends His servant with heavy tidings, His message of alarm
cleanses the spiritual atmosphere and kills the sloth, pride,
indifference, and lethargy, which otherwise might fall upon the people.
As the sharp needle prepares the way for the thread, so the piercing
Law makes a way for the bright silver thread of Divine Grace. The
lancet is quite as needful as the healing balm. The Law is our teacher
to bring us to Christ–like the old Greek pedagogue who led the boy to
school–so the Law leads us to Christ-who teaches and instructs us and
makes us wise unto salvation. Those who preached the Law, as well as
the Gospel, in the Puritan times, were the most fruitful soul winners.
We find our blessed Lord and Master, whose heart was overflowing with
compassion, and whose very Nature was love, often dwelling upon the
wrath to come.
And indeed, His utterances are more telling and terrible than the most
burning threat from the lips of thundering Seers of old. God grant that
this morning the effect which so anxiously desire may follow from that
burden of the Lord which now weighs so heavily upon me. May the Master
I gather out this day a seed unto Himself, who shall be saved from the
wrath to come, and be to all eternity the reward of the Redeemer's
travail. Lift up your hearts to God, you that know Him and have power
with Him, and ask that now the Divine Spirit may work mightily, that
hearts may be broken and sinners led to Jesus. "Beside all this,
between us and you there is a great gulf fixed."
Human ingenuity has done very much to bridge great gulfs. Scarcely has
the world afforded a river so wide that its floods could not be leaped
over. Or a torrent so furious that it could not be made to pass under
the yoke. High above the foam of Columbia's glorious waterfall, man has
hung aloft his slender, but substantial road of iron–and the shriek of
the locomotive is heard above the roar of Niagara. This very week I saw
the first chains which span the deep rift through which the Bristol
Avon finds its way at Clifton–man has thrown his suspension bridge
across the chasm, and men will soon travel where only that which has
wings could a little while ago have found a way.
There is, however, one gulf which no human skill or engineering ever
shall be able to bridge. There is one chasm which no wing shall ever be
able to cross. It is the gulf which divides the world of joy, in which
the righteous triumph, from that land of sorrow in which the wicked
feel the smart of Jehovah's sword. Whatever other arguments there may
be why the righteous should have no communion with the wicked in a
future state, beside all these other things, any one of which is enough
and sufficient of itself, there is a great gulf fixed, so that there
can be no passage from the one world to the other.
I. In trying solemnly to speak upon this matter, I shall commence with
this–THERE IS NO PASSAGE FROM HEAVEN TO HELL. "They which would pass
from here to you, cannot." Glorified saints cannot visit the prison of
lost sinners. Long enough were the righteous mingled with the
wicked–sufficient was the evil time in which the wheat was choked with
the tares. Quite long enough was the period in which the chaff laid
upon the same floor, side by side with the wheat. Patience had its
perfect work. They did both grow together until the time of the
harvest. It is not necessary, now that harvest has come, that they
should lie together any longer.
It were inconsistent with the perfect joy and the beatific state of the
righteous, with its perfect calm and purity, that sin should be
admitted into their midst, or that they should be permitted to find
companionships in the abodes of evil. It were not glorious to the Lord
Jesus Christ that they should cease from beholding His beauties and
adoring His Person, in order to succor His enemies, and comfort His
desperate foes. Shall the courtiers of Heaven become traitors to their
King, that they may relieve His implacable adversaries? Shall the
princes of the blood imperial, who wear eternal coronets, lay aside
their robes of honor to become menial servants to the damned in
Hell–who would not, when Christ was preached to them–bow the knee and
kiss the Son? This must not, and cannot be. Besides, the decree of God,
like a great mountain of brass, has forever shut the righteous in with
holiness, with happiness, with God. And they cannot, if they would,
must not, cross the great gulf which divides them from the world of the
wicked.
It follows that the most earnest and diligent preacher must, then,
renounce all hope of converting sinners. God has raised up some
Apostolic spirits whose presence in a nation is like the rising of the
sun. Darkness flies before them and the light of salvation streams from
them to tens of thousands. When they lift up their hands to preach, God
gives them power to shake the gates of Hell. And when they bend the
knee to pray, they unlock the gates of Heaven. Men like Baxter, with
bursting hearts of love, or Joseph Alleine with glowing tongue, or
Whitfield with seraph's fire, or Wesley with cherub's zeal–these are
the men who bless their age–and are most truly great.
These men can go to the borders of the earth if they will. Their
commission is co-extensive with the human race– "Go you into all the
world and preach the Gospel to every creature." "Lo, I am with you
always, even unto the ends of the world." These men are never so happy
as when they are preaching. Woe unto them if they preach not the
Gospel, and when they preach it, and God helps them, they are like
Elihu, refreshed by the effort! They were born to preach the Gospel,
and to win sinners to Christ. They are never content except they are
fulfilling their high commission.
But they must cease from their labors soon, for in Heaven they are not
needed–and from Hell they are excluded. O Sinner, even my voice,
feeble though it is, may win you to Jesus now. But if you die
impenitent, it can never woo you again to a Savior. Now is my time to
preach to you and set open Mercy's door before you, but then I can
never warn you, nor invite you. Then I can never again depict the
agonies of my Lord and Master and endeavor to attract you by the story
of His love, His dying, bleeding love. No, it will be all over then.
"They rest from their labors. And their works do follow them." They
must bring their sheaves with them, for they cannot return into another
field to sow–nor journey into other broad acres to reap.
Burning as their hearts will still be with Divine love, they will have
to exercise it in another way. Their passionate longings for God's
Glory will find other channels in which to flow. They will bow their
heads and adore Him day and night. But they can no longer serve Him in
Gospel ministry. The ambassador rolls up his commission, for God has
run up the black flag of damnation and hangs out no more signals of
peace. Poor Sinner, gladly would I win you now, for it is now or never
with you and me.
The efforts of the most importunate visitor, the most earnest friend,
must cease with death. Some of you have friends who can get nearer to
your hearts than I can. You can afford, sometimes, to forget my poor
words and go your way to sin again. But you have a sister, and when she
pleads with you, you do feel it. You have one loving friend, and when
he speaks to you, you cannot be deaf. Your conscience has often been
impressed by him and sometimes through him the strivings of the Spirit
have been very mighty with your soul. I love, my Brothers and Sisters,
to see you earnest for the souls of others. God may give you some souls
whom He will never give to me. And so long as they are saved, though I
have a holy covetousness and earnestly desire to bring many to Christ,
yet I will as unashamedly rejoice in their salvation by your
instrumentality as if it had been accomplished by my own.
Go and labor with all your might. Tell what Christ has done for you.
With pleading, loving accents, beseech them to be reconciled to God.
But oh, remember, you can only do that in this life, for when the gates
are shut, you are shut in for your reward, and all the world is shut
out from your efforts. O my Hearer, do you hear this? Not only will
there be no public congregations, no Sabbaths, no houses of prayer, but
there shall be no private messengers, no earnest Christians who shall
privately seek your soul's good! What do you say to this? Does not this
give an awful value to those tender words of importunate love? Turn at
the gentle rebuke, for otherwise you shall be suddenly destroyed, and
that without remedy.
Those who are nearest and dearest must be divided from you, if you
perish in your sins! A mother can put her arms about her child's neck
and pray for it here. She may affectionately exhort her son to seek
peace with God now. She may earnestly and incessantly follow him with
her holy entreaties–but she can never come to him from the realms of
Glory if once he is lost. "They which would pass from us to you
cannot." Do you hear it, young Man? Those glistening eyes of a mother's
love shall never weep again for you. That touching voice which
sometimes awoke the echoes of your heart shall never plead again. O
ungodly Woman, you shall never see your godly child.
Father, is it that daughter you are thinking of who loved and feared
God in childhood, and was taken from you? Did she say to you when she
was dying, "Follow me to Heaven, my Father"? You have heard her voice
for the last time. That child will never see her father again unless he
turns from his evil ways. Methinks if she could be in Heaven what she
was on earth, she would fling her arms about your neck and seek to draw
you to the glorious Throne of the Most High. But oh, it cannot be! A
just God condemns the impenitent sinner, and just men assent to the
Divine sentence.
See then, O you ungodly ones that are present today! You often think
our company a great nuisance, and perhaps while I am preaching, my
alarming words annoy you. Ah, we shall not annoy you long. Does your
mother tease you when she bids you seek the Lord? She will not tease
you long! When I bring home the judgment to come, is the subject
obnoxious to you? I shall not ask your patience long. We shall be
separated. If you go your way, and follow after sin and wrath, there
will come a dividing time. And O let me say to you–you would give
worlds if you had them! You would give them if they were solid
diamonds, to hear again the voice which now fatigues you–and to listen
once more to those plaintive invitations which vex you, and spoil your
mirth!
Ah, how would you bless God if He would let you come back again and
have once more those Sabbaths which were so dull and dreary, and permit
you to go up once more to the House of God which now, perhaps, is like
a prison to your vain and frivolous spirits. O Sirs, I say you may well
have patience with us for a little time, and bear with our
importunities, for we shall not plague you much longer. We beseech you
to come to Jesus. We would pluck you by your garments and beseech you
to flee from the wrath to come. Forgive us for being thus in earnest,
for even if we should fail with you, you will soon escape the
importunities of our love. A few short months of mortal life and then
you will be far away from all religious discourses and all spiritual
talk of things to come. You will be in your own company, but I warn
you–this will yield you no contentment.
Dear Friends, how earnest this ought to make the people of God to work
while it is called today. If this is our only time for doing good, let
us do good while we can. I hear people sometimes say, "Mr. So-and-So
does too much. He works too hard." Oh, we none of us do half enough! Do
not talk about working too hard for Jesus Christ–the thing is
impossible. Are souls perishing, and shall I sleep? My idle, lazy
Flesh, shall you keep me still while men are dying and Hell is filling?
Brothers and Sisters, let us be lukewarm no longer. If God makes us
lights in the world, let us spend ourselves as a candle does, which
consumes itself by shining.
As the poor work girl, who has but one candle, works with desperate
pace because that will soon be burned out, so let us be instant in
season and out of season–watching, praying, laboring for the souls of
men. We are not earnest enough about immortal souls. If we had but a
view of the shortness of life, the fleeting character of time, and the
terrors of eternal wrath. If we could but see lost souls and understand
their unutterable woe, we should shake ourselves from the dust and go
forth to work while it is called today.
II. As we cannot go from Heaven to Hell, so the text assures us,
"NEITHER CAN THEY PASS TO US THAT WOULD COME FROM THERE." The lost
spirits in Hell are shut in forever. I see the angel standing at that
iron door. I hear the awful key as it grates among the tremendous
wards, and when that gate is closed, he hurls the key into the abyss of
oblivion! The captives are fast imprisoned, bound in fetters which will
never break, in chains which never rust. The sinner cannot come to
Heaven for a multitude of reasons.
Among the best, these: First, his own character forbids it. As a man
lives and dies, so will he be throughout eternity. The drunkard here
will have all a drunkard's thirst there without the means of gratifying
it. The swearer here will become a yet more ripe and proficient
blasphemer. Death does not change but fixes character. It petrifies it.
"He that is holy let him be holy still. He that is filthy let him be
filthy still." The lost man remains a sinner, and a growing sinner, and
continues to rebel against God. Would you have such a man in Heaven?
Shall the thief prowl through the streets of the New Jerusalem? Shall
the atmosphere of Paradise be polluted by an oath? Shall the songs of
angels be disturbed by the ribaldry of licentious conversation?
It cannot be! Heaven were no Heaven if the sinner could be permitted to
enter it. "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of
God," and as there is no hope of the finally lost ever being born
again, the kingdom of God they cannot see. Sinner, if you are not fit
for Heaven now, have you any right to hope you ever will be? If you die
without God and without hope, where must your portion be? Without a God
can you dwell in Heaven–God's own dominions? Without hope, can you
enter where hope is consummated in full fruition? Never! The enemies of
God shall never be permitted to beard Him to His Face and vent their
blasphemies in His own palace. They must be driven from His Presence
and driven from that Presence forever.
Moreover, not only does the man's character shut him out, but also the
sinner's doom. What was it? "These shall go away into everlasting
punishment." If it is everlasting, how can they enter Heaven? What does
the Savior say, "Where their worm dies not, and their fire is not
quenched." If there is any truth in that metaphor, the lost are lost
forever. The worm would die if they entered Heaven, and the fire were
quenched if they obtained celestial seats. How does the Holy Spirit put
it? Does He not describe the wrath to come as a bottomless pit? It were
not such if they could get a handhold and afterwards climb upward to
the starry thrones of angels.
Brothers and Sisters, He that dooms men, He that has put it in the
strong expression, "He that believes not shall be damned," will
certainly and literally carry out His own words. And if it is so, it
shall never be possible for them to break their prison of fire, and
enter the land ofjoy and peace. Moreover, Sinner, you cannot go out of
the prison because God's Character and God's Word are against you.
Shall God ever cease to be just? If He is just, He must never cease
from punishing you when you are finally condemned. "Holy, Holy, Holy,
Lord God of Sabaoth," is the never ceasing cry of cherubim–and as long
as He is, "Holy, Holy, Holy," you can never be acceptable to Him. Shall
God ever cease to be true?
And remember, as long as He is true to His own threats, He must and
will send His arrows through you and make His fierce wrath to consume
you. Then there stands His decree, "He that believes not shall be
damned." This is the great gulf, that fixed chasm by which the
impenitent sinner is fast as firmest destiny, bound, like Prometheus,
to the rock forever, never to be loosed in time or in eternity. It must
not–it shall not be–if God is God–if His decree is not a falsehood
and a vanity, you must not come out of the place of your torment.
There is more. Remember, Sinner, there never was but one bridge between
fallen man and a holy God. That bridge you reject. The Person of the
Mediator, His substitution, His righteousness, His painful death–these
make the only road from sin to righteousness, from wrath to acceptance.
But these you reject. If you should ever be lost you will have finally
rejected Christ. And inasmuch as you are not, this morning, saved, O my
poor fellow Creature, you are now rejecting Christ. You are as good as
saying, "Christ died, but not for me. Christ shed His blood to save
men, but I will not be saved in His way. Let Him die. I count His death
a trifle, and His blood a vanity. I had sooner perish than be saved by
Him."
This is what you in effect are saying. I know the words make you
shudder. You would not venture to utter them, but that is your feeling.
You will not have this Man to reign over you. You will not bow the
knee, and kiss the Son. You will still be an adversary to God, and
sooner be destroyed than be saved through the Atonement of Christ.
Well, now, if you reject the only way, what wonder if having rejected
that, there remains no hope? Besides, remember there is no other
sacrifice for sin. Scripture expressly tells us that there remains no
more sacrifice for sin. Do you think that Jesus will come a second time
to die? Shall those Divine hands be stretched again to the wood?
You reject Him now. If He died again, you would reject Him. Shall the
head again be pierced with thorns? Shall the side again be rent with
the spear? Why, Sinner, if you refuse to have Him now, you would refuse
Him could He die a sec- ond time. But that cannot be. He has offered an
Atonement once and for all, and now He forever sits down at the right
hand of the Majesty on High. No second Atonement–no second redemption
shall ever be offered for the sins of men.
Besides, remember, there is no Holy Spirit in the pit. The blessed
Spirit is here today, and often has He striven with some of you. Do you
remember when you trembled like Felix? Do you not remember the time
when, like Agrippa, you were almost persuaded? But still all this was
put away–conscience was hushed. The Spirit of God was quenched. Well,
that Spirit can strive with you again, and if He comes forth in His
Irresistible strength, if your heart is like a flint, He can break it.
And if like iron, He can melt it. But once in the pit, and the Holy
Spirit never comes there. That blessed dove shuns the place of wrath.
And over souls given up to destruction, never will His life-giving
wings be known to brood.
If so, then you cannot be born again and cannot enter Heaven. You
cannot be sanctified. And unsanctified spirits cannot have a portion in
the skies. So then it is clear enough you cannot possibly pass from
Hell to Heaven. Ah, this will be a judgment upon you, a solemn judgment
upon you for many things. You do not like the House of God. You shall
be shut out of it. You do not love Sunday. You are shut out from the
eternal Sunday. The voice of sacred song had no charm in it for you.
You shall not join it. The face of God you never loved. You shall never
see it. The name of Jesus Christ was never melodious in your ears. You
shall never hear it.
Jesus Christ was preached to you, but you rejected him–His blood you
trod beneath your feet. The way to Heaven was freely set open before
you, but you would not come to Him that you might have life. There is a
road from earth to Heaven–Sinner, though you have gone into the depths
of sin, if you have been the most infamous and most outrageous of
offenders, there is still a road for you to Heaven. The harlot, the
thief, the profane, the drunkard may yet find mercy through the Divine
Grace of Jesus, but–
"There are no acts of pardon passed In that cold grave to which we
haste. Only darkness, death and long despair Reign in eternal silence
there."
God bless the solemn remarks we make and He shall have the glory.
III. But now, once again to change the subject for a few minutes, I
have to notice in the third place, that while no persons can pass that
bridgeless chasm, so NO THINGS CAN. Nothing can come from Hell to
Heaven. Rejoice, you saints in light, triumph in your God for this–no
temptation of Satan can ever vex you when once you are landed on the
golden strand. You are beyond bowshot of the archenemy. He may howl and
bite his iron bands, but his howling cannot terrify and his biting
cannot disturb.
No longer shall you be vexed with the filthy conversation of the
ungodly. Lot shall never hear another foul word. You shall not have to
say, "Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of
Kedar."–
"No light discourse shall reach your heart, Nor trifles vex your ear."
You shall be shut out from everything that belongs to Hell. And
remember, you shall be in Heaven. You will be so secure, that the wrath
of God which makes Hell, shall never light on you. Your Savior carried
it for you. Not a drop of it shall fall upon you. No present pains
shall be in Heaven, they are for the lost. No pains of body, no
distractions of mind. You shall have no sin–sin cannot pass from them
to you. You shall be perfect–like your Lord, without spot or wrinkle,
or any such thing–
"Your inward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan vex your peace again." You shall have no fears for the
future. You shall know that your bliss is eternal. This shall always be
the honey of your honeycomb–that it lasts forever. Millions of years
you shall gaze into the face of your Beloved, throughout endless ages
you shall bask in the sunlight of His smile.
This is joy, I say, to the Christian! If he will but think it over it
will reconcile him to the hardest strokes of temporary tribulation, and
make him rejoice in the hardest toil of this mortal struggle. Courage,
Brothers and Sisters, it is but a day or two of wrestling and then the
immortal crown–an hour or two of fighting and then the everlasting
rest! Me-thinks I see today the angels leaning from the battlements of
the celestial palace, and as they mark you, like armed men cutting your
way to the gates thereof, they cry to you—-
"Come in, come in,
Eternal glory you shall win."
Will you sheathe your swords? Will you stop the conflict? No! Press on
and let your true Jerusalem blades cut through soul and spirit, and
divide joint and marrow till you reach the summit and the eternal Glory
shall be yours!
IV. Again, we change the strain for a fourth point and this a terrible
one. As nothing can come from Hell to Heaven, so nothing heavenly can
ever come to Hell. There are rivers of life at God's right hand–those
streams can never leap in blessed waterfalls to the lost. No, Lazarus
is not permitted to dip the tip of his finger in water to administer
the cooling drop to the fire-tormented tongue. Not a drop of heavenly
water can ever cross that chasm.
See then, Sinner, Heaven is rest, perfect rest–but there is no rest in
Hell. It is labor in the fire, and no ease, no peace, no sleep, no
calm, no quiet–everlasting storm–eternal hurricane–unceasing tempest
in the worst disease. There are some respites–spasms of agony–but
then no pauses of repose. There is no pause in Hell's torments. The
dreadful music of the eternal lamentation has not so much as a single
stop in it. It is on, on, on, with crash of battle, and dust, and
blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke.
Heaven, too, is a place of joy. There, happy fingers sweep celestial
chords. There, joyous spirits sing Hosannas day without night. But
there is no joy in Hell. For music there is the groan. For joy there is
the pang. For sweet fellowship there is the binding up in bundles. For
everything that is blissful there is everything that is dolorous. No, I
could not exaggerate, that were impossible. I cannot come up to the
doleful facts. Therefore I leave them. Nothing of the joy of Heaven can
ever come to Hell. Heaven is the place of sweet communion with God–
"There they behold His face, And never, never sin. There from the
rivers of His Grace, Drink endless pleasures in."
There is no communion with God in Hell. There are prayers, but they are
unheard. There are tears, but they are unaccepted. There are cries for
pity, but they are all an abomination unto the Lord. God wills not the
death of any. He had rather that he should turn unto Him and live, but
if that Divine Grace is refused–
"The Lord, in vengeance dressed,
Shall lift His hand and swear,
You that despised My promised rest
Shall have no portion there."
Tell me what Heaven is, if you will, and I must say of any description
that you give of its joys, that there is none of them in Tophet, for
Heaven's blessings cannot cross from the celestial regions to the
infernal prison. No, it is sorrow without relief, misery without
hope–and here is the pang of it–it is death without end. There is
only one thing that I know of in which Heaven is like Hell–it is
eternal. "The wrath to come, the wrath to come, the wrath to come,"
forever and forever spending itself and yet never being spent.
And now, would to God, I could speak with you as my heart desires. For
this is my only opportunity, since, as I have already said, I can do
this no more if I am saved and if you are lost. Spare me, then, two or
three minutes while I close this poor discourse of mine by trying to
reason with those of you who are unconverted. I have had little to say
to God's people this morning. I may comfort them in the evening, but
this morning I have to deal with you who fear not God. Many of you now
present are unconverted. I will never flatter you by preaching to you
as though you were all Christians.
The Lord my God knows there is many a heart here that never was broken.
There is many a spirit here that never trembled before the majesty of
infinite justice, and never kissed the outstretched scepter of a
crucified Redeemer. You know this, some of you. You know you are in the
gall of bitterness, and in the bonds of iniquity. I do not mean you,
alone, who live in open sin. But I mean you who are amiable, excellent,
admirable in your carriage and deportment–but yet the love of God is
not in you. There is no fault to be found with your outward character,
perhaps, but you have not been born again. You have never passed from
death unto life.
And remember, Sirs, there is the same Hell for the most excellent as
for the most abominable, unless you fly to Christ–"For other
foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ."
And if you believe not in Him, you shall die in your sins, "for there
is none other name under Heaven given among men, whereby we must be
saved." Come, then, let me plead with you, and I will ask you a
question–do you believe all this? Do you believe that there is a
Hell? Do you believe that there is a Heaven to be lost? If you profess
that you do not so believe, I have done with you. God bring you to a
better mind.
But what did you come here for? Why do you profess to be a Christian if
you reject the Christian's inspired Book? Become an infidel and be
honest. For my part, modern infidelity never gives me any alarm. I had
as soon see you outwardly infidels, as to hear you pretend to be
Christians and yet disbelieve what this Book teaches. I like honesty,
and it seems to me that when a man honestly says, "I shall not make a
profession of believing what I do not believe," that there is at least
one virtue in him. And we may hope that others may find soil to grow
in.
But you that profess to be religious and attend your Church or your
Chapel, and yet do not believe the Revelation of God, what can I say to
you, but that your damnation will be most just. I think I hear many of
you say, "Believe it, Sir, oh, we never doubted it! We learned it in
our earliest childhood, we have heard it always, and we never ventured
to doubt." Ah, well then, I ask you–are you in your sober senses to
believe that there is a Hell and not seek to escape from it? Do you
believe there is a wrath to come, and that it may fall upon you in the
next minute, for you may be dead, and never leave this House of
Prayer–and yet do you sit easy in your pews? Or, are you mad? Has sin
so besotted you with its foul intoxication, that you cannot think? For
if you can think, and there is an angry God who will punish with the
awful force of His Omnipotence, how is it that you can be at ease in
Zion?
Let me ask you another question–if these things are so, have you used
your senses in giving a preference to the pleasures of this life beyond
the joys of Heaven–in following the pleasures of today, when you know
they will be followed with the miseries of eternity? Do not be
mistaken, I do not mean to say that a Christian is without
pleasures–we have the highest and purest pleasure that mortal or
immortal can know. We have not the pleasures of sin, but we have
higher, more delightful and deeper pleasures. But this is what I
mean–will you spend yourselves in sinful pleasure? Will you occupy
your time with lust, or drunkenness, or with the frivolities of
fashionable life, and do you think that these are worth the expense
that they will cause?
"Oh," said one to me, who holds a high position in society, as I talked
with him a long time after having preached earnestly the Gospel–he
took me by the button and he said, "it does seem to me to be an awful
thing, that I, knowing as I do what will be my lot if I live and die as
I am, should still act as I do. When you are with me," he said, "and I
listen to a solemn address, I think there shall come a change over me.
I will serve God. But, O Sir, you do not know the temptations of my
life! You do not know how it is when I get into the midst of pomp and
vanities and perhaps mingle with men who ridicule all thoughts of
religion, it all goes–and I am such a fool that I sell my soul–sell
my soul for it."
Oh, there are such fools here today–who sell their souls for a little
sin–one or two whirls in the world's mad dance and then the devil is
your partner and your mirth is over. I ask you to use your reason and
judge whether it is worth your while to gain the whole world and lose
your own soul?
I shall put it to you in another way. How is it that you do not lay
hold of Christ, since this is the only time when there is a probability
that Christ can be laid hold of? I will tell you why it is. You do not
love Christ. You love sin. Or else you are too proud to come to Christ.
You think yourselves good enough, and you think that Christ is not for
such as you are, but only for great sinners and the lowest of the low.
O Sirs, is your pride such a fine thing that you will be damned in
order to maintain its dignity? Throw your pride down, come as a sinner
must come, and lay hold of Jesus Christ. Or if it is your sin which
hinders, may God the Holy Spirit help you to pluck out the right eye,
and cast off a right arm sooner than having two eyes and two arms to be
cast into Hell fire.
"But," says one, "how may I lay hold on Christ?" May the blessed Spirit
enable you to do it. Here it is–trust Jesus Christ, and you shall be
saved. Conscious that you deserve His wrath, trembling because of His
terrible Law, look to Jesus. There hangs a bleeding Savior. Methinks
these eyes can see Him bleeding there. God eternal, He by whom the
Heaven of heavens were Made, and the earth and the fullness thereof,
takes upon Himself the form of Man and hangs upon the tree of the
curse–
"See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did ever such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?"
There is life in a look at that Crucified One, there is life at this
moment for you! Will you glance at Him with a tearful eye?
"Jesus slaughtered, martyred, murdered for my sake, I do believe in
You. Here at Your feet I throw myself, all guilty, polluted, foul. Let
Your blood drop on me. Turn Your eyes upon me. Say to me, 'I have loved
you with an everlasting love, therefore with the bands of My kindness
have I drawn you.' Come and welcome, Sinner–come."
I have but preached the Law to you out of love. God knows how these
hard things, as I speak them, make my heart bleed blood. O that you
would believe in Jesus! He is freely preached to you–accept Him. May
the Spirit of God lead you now to accept Him. These are no hard terms,
no stern conditions of a bloodthirsty tyrant. He does but say, "Bow the
knee and kiss the Son. Come and welcome, Sinner–come."
Young Man, will you be saved or not? You, Sinner yonder, with your gray
head, approaching the approach of death, will you believe in Christ or
not? It may be this is your last time–you shall never hear the Gospel
faithfully and affectionately pressed home upon you again. Will you
have Jesus to be yours? Spirit of God, lead that heart to say, "Yes,
Lord, I will." And as the acceptance is heard on earth, may it be
registered in Heaven–and may salvation come to that man's heart this
day!
The Lord bless you all, every one of you. And when He gathers His
people together, may I and you, every one of us, by His Grace, be found
at His right hand, to see His smiling face. Amen.