The Church’S Love To Her Loving Lord

The Church'S Love To Her Loving Lord

A SERMON PREACHED BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE,
NEWINGTON.

"Tell me, O You whom my soul loves, where You feed, where You make Your
flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turns aside by
the flocks of Your companions?'

Song of Solomon 1:7.

We shall need to lift up our hearts to God and ask to be quickened in
Divine Grace or the precious truths in our text will not prove to us
"as honey out of the rock," nor the "least of fat things, of wine and
marrow, of wine on the lees well refined." We cannot appreciate the
spirituality of this book unless God's Spirit shall help us. Many read
these words and only see a proof of the imaginative power of an eastern
mind. Some read to scoff and blaspheme and others, even good people,
neglect to read this book altogether, being unable to drink in its
spirit because of their need of that higher life of communion with the
Beloved which is here so beautifully laid open to our view.

Now I am persuaded of better things of you, Beloved. I am sure that you
believe that every Word of God is precious and most certainly we say of
this Book, "it is more to be desired than gold, yes, than much fine
gold, sweeter also than honey, or the droppings of the honeycomb." This
book of the Canticles is most precious to us. It is the inner court of
the temple of Truth. It seems to us to belong to the secret place of
the tabernacle of the Most High. We see our Savior's face in almost
every page of the Bible, but here we see His heart and feel His love to
us. We shall hope this morning to speak of our own experience, as well
as of the Church who is here speaking.

You will perceive that she begins with a title, she expresses a desire,
she enforces it with an argument–"Tell me, O You whom my soul loves,
where You feed, where You make Your flock to rest at noon: for why
should I be as one that turns aside by the flocks of Your companions?"

I. We commence with the title–"O You whom my soul loves." It is well
to be able to call the Lord Jesus Christ by this name without an "if,"
or a "but." A very large proportion of Christian people can only say of
Christ that they hope they love Him. They trust they love Him–but this
is a very poor and shallow experience–to be content to stay here. It
seems to me that no one ought to give any rest to his spirit till he
feels quite sure about a matter of such vital importance. We are not
content to have a hopeof the love of our parents, or of our spouse, or
of our children! We feel we must be certain there.

And we ought not to be satisfied with a hope that Christ loves us and
with a bare trust that we love Him. The old saints did not generally
speak with buts and ifs and hopes and trusts–they spoke positively and
plainly. "I know whom I have believed," says Paul. "I know that my
Redeemer lives," says Job. "He whom my soul loves," says Solomon, in
the song as we have it here. Learn, dear Friends, to get that positive
knowledge of your love to Jesus and be not satisfied till you can talk
about your interest in Him as a reality which you have made infallibly
sure by having received the witness of the Holy Spirit and His seal
upon your soul by faith that you are born of God and belong to Christ.

Speaking, then, of this title which rings the great bell of love to
Jesus, let us notice first the cause and secondly the effect of that
love. If we can look into the face of Him who once sweat great drops of
blood and call Him, "O You whom my soul loves," it is interesting to
consider what is the cause of our love. And here our reply is very
quick. The efficient cause of our love is the Holy Spirit of God. We
should never have had a spark of love to Jesus if it had not been
bestowed upon us by the Divine Worker.

Well said John, "Love is of God." Certainly it is so. Our love to
Christ is one beam from Himself, the Sun. Certainly a man can no more
naturally love Christ than a horse can fly. I grant you there is no
physical disability, but there is a moral and spiritual disability
which effectually disqualifies him from the high and lofty emotion of
love to Jesus. Into that dead corpse the living spirit must be
breathed–those who are dead in trespasses and sins cannot love Christ.
That heart of stone must be transformed into a heart of flesh, for
stones may be hurled at the Savior but they can never love Him.

That lion must become a lamb, or it can never claim Christ as its
Shepherd. That raven must be turned into a dove, or it will never fly
to Christ as its ark. "Except a man is born again," we may say, he
cannot see this precious sparkling jewel of the kingdom of God–love to
Christ. Search yourselves then, Brethren–do you love Him or not? If
you love Him, you have been born again! And if you do not love Him,
then you are still in darkness and are not His–

"Can you pronounce His charming name,
His acts of kindness tell?
And while you dwell upon the theme,
No sweet emotion feel?'

I think some of us would have to answer–

"A very wretch, Lord, I should prove,
Had I no love to You.
Sooner than not my Savior love,
Oh, may I cease to be!'

This, then, is the efficient cause–the Holy Spirit. The
rational'cause, the logical reason why we love Jesus lies in
Himself–in His looks, in His present working and in His
Person–besides many other little fountains, which all tend to swell
the river–the growing, deepening river of our love to Him. Why do we
love Jesus? We have the best of answers– because He first loved us!
Hearken you strangers who inquire why we should love the Savior so. We
will give you such reasons that we will satisfy you and set your mouths
watering to be partakers of the same reasons, that you may come to love
Him, too!

Why do we love Him? Because before this round earth was fashioned
between the palms of the great Creator– before He had painted the
rainbow, or hung out the lights of the sun and moon–Christ's delights
were with us. He foresaw us through the glass of His prescience. He
knew what we should be–looked into the book in which all His "members
were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there
were none of them." And as He looked upon us, the glance was love. He
delighted to sit upon the Throne of Glory and to remember His dear ones
who were yet to be born! It was the great prospect which His mighty and
infinite Spirit had–a joy that was set before Him–that He should see
a multitude that no man could number who should be His beloved
forever–

"Loved of my Christ, for Him again,
With love intense Ill burn.
Chosen of You before time began,
I choose You in return."

Oh, could you know that Jesus had loved you from before all worlds, you
must love Him! At least you will grant there cannot be a better reason
for love than love. Love demands–no, it does not demand–it takes by
almighty force, by irresistible energy that heart captive upon whom it
thus sets itself! This Jesus loved us for no reason whatever in
ourselves. We were black as the tents of Kedar. We had much deformity
but no beauty and yet He loved us! And our deformity was of such a kind
that it might meritoriously have made Him hate us. We kicked against
Him and despised Him! Our language naturally was, "We will not have
this Man to reign over us," and when we heard of His loving us, we
sneered at it.

He was despised and rejected of men. We hid, as it were, our faces from
Him. He was despised and we esteemed Him not. We thought His love an
empty tale, a paltry trifle and yet He loved us. No, we were His
enemies! We slew Him! We confess with sorrow that we were the murderers
of the Prince of Life and Glory. Our hands were stained with His gore
and our garments dyed with His blood–and yet He saw all this and still
loved us! Shall we not love Him? Surely our heart is harder than
adamant because we do not love Him more! But it were Hell-hardened
steel if it did not love at all.

Our Savior so loved us that He stripped Himself of His robes of
radiance. Listen, you children of God, it is the old story over again,
but it is always new to you. He stripped Himself of His bright array.
He laid aside His scepter and His crown and became an infant in
Bethlehem's manger among the horned oxen. Thirty years of poverty and
shame the King of Heaven spent among the sons of men and all out of
love to us! Jesus the heavenly lover, panting to redeem His people, was
content to abide here without a place to rest His head that He might
rescue us!

Do you see Him yonder in the garden in His agony? His soul is
exceedingly sorrowful even unto death! His forehead, no, His head, His
hair, His garments red with bloody sweat. Do you see Him giving His
back to the smiters and His cheeks to them that pluck off His hair? See
Him as He hides not His face from shame and spitting–dumb like a sheep
before her shearers and like a lamb that is brought to the slaughter!
He opened not His mouth but patiently bore it all on our behalf. See
Him with the Cross upon His mangled shoulders, staggering through
Jerusalem's streets, unwept, unpi-tied, except by poor feeble women!

See Him, you that love Him, and love Him more as He stretches out His
hands to the nails and gives His feet to the iron. See Him, as with
power to deliver Himself He is made captive. Behold Him as they lift up
the Cross with Him upon it and dash it down into its place and
dislocate His bones. Hear that cry, "I am poured out like water: all My
bones are out ofjoint. You have brought Me into the dust of death."
Stand, if you can, and view that face so full of grief. Look till a
sword shall go through your own heart as it went through His virgin
mother's very soul. Oh, see Him as He thirsts and has that thirst
mocked with vinegar!

Hear Him as He prays and has that prayer parodied, "He cries for Elias,
let Elias come and take Him down." See Him, as they who love Him come
and kiss His feet and bathe them with their tears. Will you not love
Him who did all that friend could do for friend? He who gave His life
for us? Beloved, here are a thousand crimson cords that tie us to the
Savior and I hope we feel their constraining power. It is His vast
love, the old eternal bond, the love which redeemed, which suffered in
our place, the love which pleaded our cause before the eternal
Throne–it is this which we give as a sufficient reason why we should
love the Savior, if necessary, even unto death!

Moreover, we have another reason. I trust many here can say that they
love the Savior because of His present dealings towards them. What has
He not done for us this very day? Some of you came here this morning
heavy and you went away rejoicing! Perhaps you have had answers to
prayer this very week. You have passed through the furnace and not a
smell of fire has passed upon you. You have had many sins this week,
but you have felt the efficacy of His blood again and again. Some of us
have known what it is during the past six days to have the ravishing
delights of private communion with Him. He has made us glad! Our
spirits have leaped for very joy, for He has turned again the captivity
of our soul.

You have drunk of Him as of "the brook by the way," and you have
therefore lifted up your head. Beloved, if there were nothing else
which Christ had done for my soul–that which I have tasted and handled
of Him within the last few months would make me love Him forever–and I
know that you can say the same! Nor is this all. We love the Savior
because of the excellency of His Person. We are not blind to excellence
anywhere, but still we can see no excellence like His–

"Jesus You fairest, dearest one, What beauties You adorn
Far brighter than the noonday sun, Or star that gilds the morn. Here
let me fix my wandering eyes, And all Your glories trace;
Till, in the world of endless joys, I rise to Your embrace.'

When Tigranes and his wife were both taken prisoners by Cyrus, Cyrus
turning to Tigranes said, "What will you give for the liberation of
your wife?" And the King answered, "I love my wife so that I would
cheerfully give up my life if she might be delivered from servitude."
Whereupon Cyrus said that if there was such love as that between them
they might both go free. So when they were away and many were talking
about the beauty and generosity of Cyrus and especially about the
beauty of his person, Tigranes, turning to his wife, asked her what she
thought of Cyrus and she answered that she saw nothing anywhere but in
the face of the man who had said that he would die if she might only be
released from servitude.

"The beauty of that man," she said, "makes me forget all others." And
verily we would say the same of Jesus! We would not decry the angels,
nor think ill of the saints–but the beauties of that Man who gave His
life for us are so great that they have eclipsed all others–and our
soul only wishes to see Him, and none other! As the stars hide their
heads in the presence of the sun, so may your all be gone–your
delights, your excellencies–when Christ Jesus, the chief Delight, the
chief Excellency, makes His appearance. Dr. Watts says–

"His worth, if all the nations knew, Surely the whole earth would love
Him, too.'

And so it seems to us. Could you see Him, you must love Him. It was
said of Henry VIII that if all the portraits of tyrants and murderers
and thieves were out of existence, they might all be painted from the
one face of Henry VII. And turning that round another way, we will say
that if all the excellencies, beauties and perfections of the human
race were blotted out, they might all be painted again from the face of
the Lord Jesus–

"All over glorious is my Lord. He must be beloved and yet adored.'

These are some of the reasons why our heart loves Jesus. Before I leave
those reasons, I should like to put a few questions round among this
great crowd. O Friends, would you not love Jesus if you knew something
of this love as shed abroad in your hearts–something of this love as
being yours Now, remember, there is a very great promise that Christ
has made, and it is this–"He that comes to Me I will in no wise cast
out." Now what does that refer to? Why to any "he" in all the world
that comes to Christ! Whoever you may be, if you come to Jesus–and you
know that means just trusting Him, leaning upon Him–if you come to
Him, He will not cast you out. And when He has received you to His
bosom, you will then know, (but you cannot know till then), how much He
loves you! And then I think you will say with us, "Yes, His name is,
'You whom my soul loves.' "

I shall now for a short time speak on the effects of this love, as we
have dwelt on the cause of it. When a man has true love to Christ, it
is sure to lead him to dedication. There is a natural desire to give
something to the person whom we love and true love to Jesus compels us
to give ourselves to Him. One of the earliest acts of the Christian's
life is to take ourselves and lay body, soul, and spirit upon the altar
of consecration, saying, "Here I am. I give myself to You." When the
pupils of Socrates had nearly all of them given him a present, there
was one of the best scholars who was extremely poor and he said to
Socrates, "I have none of these things which the others have presented
to you. But, O Socrates, I give you myself." Whereupon Socrates said it
was the best present he had had that day. "My Son, give me your
heart"–this is what Jesus asks. If you love Him, you must give Him
this.

True love next shows itself in obedience. If I love Jesus, I shall do
as He bids me. He is my Husband, my Lord–I call Him, "Master." "If you
love Me," He says, "keep My commandments." This is His chosen proof of
my love, and I am sure, if I love Him, I shall keep His commandments.
And yet there are some who profess to love Christ who very seldom think
of keeping any of His commandments. "This do in remembrance of Me," He
says, and yet some of you never come to His Table. May I gently ask you
how you make this disobedience consort with genuine affection for Him?
"If you love Me, keep My commandments."–

" Tis love that makes our willing feet In swift obedience move.'

We can do anything for those we love and, if we love Jesus, no burden
will be heavy, no difficulty will be great–we should rather wish to do
more than He asks of us and only desire that He were a little more
exacting that we might have a better opportunity of showing forth our
affection.

True love, again, is always considerate and afraid lest it should give
offense. It walks very daintily. If I love Jesus, I shall watch my
eyes, my heart, my tongue, my hands–being so fearful lest I should
wake my Beloved–or make Him stir until He please. And I shall be sure
not to take in those bad guests, those ill-favored guests of pride and
sloth and love of the world. I shall tell them to be packing, for I
have a dear One within who will not tarry long if He sees me giving
glances to these wicked ones. My heart shall be wholly His. He shall
sit at the head of the table. He shall have the best dishes there–no,
I will send all others away that I may have Him all to myself and that
He may have my whole heart– all that I am and all that I have.

Again, true love to Christ will make us very jealous of His honor. As
Queen Eleanor went down upon her knees to suck the poison from her
husband's wound, so we shall put our lips to the wound of Christ when
He has been stabbed with the dagger of calumny, or inconsistency. We
shall be willing sooner to take the poison ourselves and to be
ourselves diseased and despised than that His name, His Cross should
suffer ill! Oh, what matters it what becomes of us if the King reigns?
I will go home to my bed and die in peace if the King sits on the
Throne. Let me see King David once again in- stalled in Zion's sacred
halls and my soul, in poverty and shame, shall still rejoice if the
banished King Jesus shall once again come back and have His own and
take His scepter, and wear His crown!

Beloved, I trust we can say we would not mind if Christ would make a
door mat of us, if He would wipe His Church's filthy sandals on us if
we might but help to make her pure! We would hold the stirrup for Him
to mount any day–yes– and be His horsing-block that He might mount
His glorious charger and ride forth conquering and to conquer. Say,
what matters it what we are, or where we are, if the King has His own?
If we love Christ, again, we shall be desiring to promote His cause and
we shall be desiring to promote it ourselves. We shall wish to see the
strength of the mighty turned at the gate that King Jesus may return
triumphant!

We shall not wish to sit still while our brethren go to war, but we
shall want to take our portion in the fray that like soldiers that love
their monarch, we may prove by our wounds and by our sufferings that
our love is real. The Apostle says, "Let us not love in word only but
in deed and in truth." Actions speak louder than words and we shall
always be anxious to tell our love in deeds as well as by our lips. The
true disciple asks continually, "Lord what will You have me to do?" He
esteems it his highest honor to serve the Lord. "I would rather be a
doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of
wickedness."–

"Theres not a lamb in all the flock, I would disdain to feed. Theres
not a foe before whose face I fear Your cause to plead. Would not my
ardent spirit vie With angels round Your Throne, To execute Your sacred
will And make Your glory known?'

Yes, indeed, we thus can sing and mean, I trust, every word! Yes, we
will go forth into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every
creature. We will tell of this love to all and labor to win for the
Master's honor a multitude which no man can number out of every nation
and kindred and tribe and tongue and people! I believe in an active
love–a love which has hands to labor and feet to run–as well as a
heart to feel, eyes to glance and ears to listen. A mother's love is of
the purest and most intense sort in the world, and it is the most
practical. It shows itself in deeds of untiring devotion both night and
day. So also should it be with us–we should let our affections prompt
us to life-long labor.

The love of Christ should constrain us to live, and if necessary, die
to serve Him. Heaven is the place of purest, holiest attachment to
Christ. Then we shall understand most about His love to us and of all
He has done to prove it and the consequence will be that His servants
shall serve Him day and night in His holy temple. We are expecting a
home in Glory not of idleness, but of continual activity. It is
written, "His servants shall serve Him," and we are taught to pray now
that we may do His will on earth as it is done in Heaven.

Let us, therefore, each one, be busily engaged in the great harvest.
The harvest is great and the laborers are few. There is room for all
and each man's place is waiting to receive him. If we truly love our
Lord we shall at once press to the front and begin the "work of faith
and labor of love." Has not the Master been known to show His love to
us in deeds? Look to Bethlehem, to Gabbatha, to Gethsemane, to
Golgotha–yes, look to His whole life as He "went about doing
good"–and see if all this will not stir you up to service! Listen to
the life story of the Lord and you will hear a voice from each one of
His deeds of love saying to you, "Go and do likewise."

And, once again, if we love Jesus we shall be willing to suffer for
Him. Pain will become light. We shall sing with Madame Guyon–

"To me tis equal whether love ordain my life or death, Appoint me ease,
or pain.'

It is a high attainment to come to, but love can make us think
ourselves of so small import that if Christ can serve Himself of us, we
shall make no choice as to what, or where we may be. We can sing once
more–

"Would not my heart pour forth its blood In honor of Your name,
And challenge the cold hand of death To dampen this immortal flame?'

Our hearts are, I trust, so full of real devotion to Christ that we can
give Him everything and endure all things for His sake. Cannot we say–

"For Him I count as gain each loss, Disgrace for Him renown, Well may I
glory in His Cross, While He prepares my crown' ? Darkness is light
about us if we can serve Him there. The bitter is sweet if the cup is
put to our lips in order that we may share in His sufferings and prove
ourselves to be His followers. When Ignatius was led to his martyrdom,
as he contemplated the nearness of his death and suffering, he said,
"Now I begin to be a Christian." He felt that all that he had done and
suffered before was not enough to entitle him to be called a follower
of Christ–but now as the Master's bloody Baptism was before him, he
realized the truth so dear to every right-minded Christian–that he was
to be "like unto his Lord." Here we can all prove our love! We can
suffer His will calmly if we are not able to do it publicly–

"Weak as I am, yet through Your love, I all things can perform. And,
smiling, triumph in Your name Amid the raging storm.'

I pray God we may have such a love that thirsts after Jesus and cannot
be satisfied without present communion with Him.

II. This brings me to the thought which I shall only touch upon as the
swallow skims the brook with his wings and then up and away, lest I
weary you. The second point of consideration is the DESIRE OF THE
CHURCH AFTER CHRIST JESUS OUR LORD–having called Him by His title, she
now expresses her longing to be with Him. "Tell me, O You whom my soul
loves, where You feed, where you make Your flock to rest at noon." The
desire of a renewed soul is to find Christ and to be with Him.

Stale meats left over from yesterday are very well when there is
nothing else, but who does not like hot food fresh from the fire? And
past communion with Christ is very well. "I remember You from the land
of the Hermonites and the hill Mizar." But these are only stale meats
and a loving soul wants fresh food every day from the table of Christ.
And you that have once had the kisses of His mouth, though you remember
the past kisses with delight, yet want daily fresh tokens of His love.
He that drinks of this water will never thirst again, it is true,
except for this water! And then he will so thirst for it that he will
be like Samuel Rutherford who began to be out of heart with the
buckets–he wanted to get right to the wellhead that he might lie down
and drink–and then, if he could have his fill, he would drink the well
quite dry.

But there is no hope of that, or rather no fear of it–the well can
never be empty, for it rises as we drink! A true loving soul, then,
wants present communion with Christ. So the question is, "Tell me where
You feed? Where do You get Your comfort from, O Jesus? I will go there.
Where do Your thoughts go? To Your Cross? Do You look back to that?
Then I will go there. Where You feed, there will I feed."

Or does this mean actively, instead of being in the passive or the
neuter? Where do You feed Your flock? In Your House? I will go there,
if I may find You there. In private prayer? Then I will not be slack in
that. In the Word? Then I will read it night and day. Tell me where You
feed, for wherever You stand as the shepherd, there will I be, for I
want You. I cannot be satisfied to be apart from You. My soul hungers
and thirsts to be with You.

She puts it again, "Where do You make Your flock to rest at noon," for
there is only rest in one place–where You cause Your flock to rest at
noon. That must be a God-given rest and only to be found in some one
chosen place. Where is the shadow of that rock? It is very hot just now
here in the middle of summer when the sun is pouring down his glorious
rays like bright but sharp arrows upon us. And we that are condemned to
live in this great wilderness of brown bricks and mortar often
recollect those glades where the woods grow thick and where the waters
leap from crag to crag down the hillside and where the birds are
singing among the trees.

We delight to think of those leafy bowers where the sun cannot dart his
rays, where, on some mossy bank, we may stretch ourselves to rest or
have our weary limbs in some limpid stream. And this is just what the
spouse is after. She feels the heat of the world's sun and she longs to
be away from its cares and troubles that have furrowed and made her
face brown till she looked as if she had been a busy keeper of the
vineyards. She wants to get away to hold quiet communion with her Lord,
for He is the brook where the weary may lay their wearied limbs! He is
that sheltered nook, that shadow of the great rock in the weary land
where His people may lie down and be at peace–

"Jesus, the very thought of You,
With sweetness fills my breast.
But sweeter far Your face to see
And in Your Presence rest.
For those who find You find a bliss,
Nor tongue, nor pen can show
The love of Jesus, what it is,
None but His loved ones know.'

Now do you not want this tonight? Does not your souls want Christ
tonight? My Brothers, my Sisters, there is something wrong with us if
we can do without Christ. If we love Him, we must want Him. Our hearts
ever say–

"Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without You I cannot live!
Abide with me when night is near,
For without You I dare not die.'

No, we cannot do without Christ. We must have Him. "Give me Christ, or
else I die," is the cry of our souls. No wonder Mary Magdalene wept
when she thought they had taken away her Lord and she knew not where
they had laid Him! As the body suffers without food, so should we
without Christ. As the fish perish out of water, so should we apart
from Christ. I must quote another verse of a hymn, for really the sweet
songsters of Israel have lavished all their best prose and very rightly
so, to tell for us our love-tale concerning our Beloved. I am sure that
our heart's inner voice can set to sweetest music the words–

"Oh that I could forever sit
With Mary at the Masters feet–
Be this my happy choice
My only care, delight and bliss,
My joy, my Heaven on earth be this,
To hear the Bridegrooms voice.'

Yes! To be with Jesus is Heaven–anywhere on earth, or in the
skies–all else is wilderness and desert. It is Paradise to be with
Him. And Heaven without Christ would be no Heaven to me. My heart
cannot rest away from Him. To have no Christ would be a punishment
greater than I could bear! I should wander, like another Cain over the
earth, a fugitive and a vagabond. Verily there would be no peace for my
soul. I am sure that the true wife, if her husband is called to go upon
a journey, longs ardently for his return. If he is gone to the wars,
she dreads lest he should fall. How each letter comes perfumed to her
when it tells of his love and constancy and how she watches for the day
when she shall clasp him in her arms once more.

Oh you know that when you were children, if you were sent to school,
how you counted till the holidays came on. I had a little almanac and
marked out every day the night before and so counted one day less till
the time I should get home again and so may you–

"May not a captive long his own dear land to see?
May not the prisoner seek release from bondage to be free?' Of course
he may and so may you, Beloved, pant and sigh as the hart pants for the
water brooks–for the comfortable enjoyment of the Lord Jesus Christ's
Presence.
III. THE ARGUMENT USED BY THE CHURCH. Here is the desire. Now, to
close, she backs that up with an argument. She says, "Why should I be
as one that turns aside by the flocks of Your companions?" You have
plenty of companions–why should I be turned aside? Why should I not be
one? Let us talk it over. Why should I lose my Lord's Presence? But the
devil tells me I am a great sinner. Ah, but it is all washed away and
gone forever. That cannot separate me, for it does not exist. My sin is
buried–
"Plunged as in a shoreless sea–
Lost as in immensity.'

The devil tells me I am unworthy and that is a reason. But I was always
unworthy and yet it was no reason why He should not love me at first,
and therefore cannot be a reason why I should not have fellowship with
Him now. Why should I be left out? Now I am going to speak for the
poorest here–I do not know where he is. I want to speak for you that
have got the least faith. You that think yourselves the smallest in all
Israel. You are Mephibosheths that are lame in your feet and yet sit at
the king's table. You are poor despised Mordecais that sit at the
king's gate–yet cannot get inside the palace.

I have this to say to you–Why should you be left there? Just try and
reason. Why should I, Jesus, be left out in the cold, when the night
comes on? No, there is a cot for the little one, as well as a bed for
his bigger brother. Why should I be turned aside? I am equally bought
with a price. I cost Him, in order to save me, as much as the noblest
of the saints– He bought them with blood–He could not buy me with
less. I must have been loved as much, or else, seeing that I am of so
little worth, I should not have been redeemed at all! If there is any
difference, perhaps I am loved somewhat better! Is there not greater,
better love shown in the choice of me than of some who are more worthy
than I am?

Why, then, should I be left out? 1 know if I have a child that is
deformed, I love it all the more–it seems as if I had a more tender
care for it. Then why should my heavenly Father be less kind to me than
I should be to my offspring? Why should I be turned aside? He chose
me–He cannot change His mind! Why, then, should He cast me off? He
knew what I was when He chose me–He cannot, therefore, find out any
fresh reason for turning me aside. He foresaw I should misbehave myself
and yet He selected me. Well, then, there cannot be a reason why I
should be left to fall away.

Again, I ask, Why should I turn aside? I am a member of His body, of
His flesh and of His bones–and though I am less than the least of all
His saints, yet He has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."
Why should I turn aside? I have a promise all to myself. Has He not
said, "I will not quench the smoking flax, nor break the bruised reed"?
Has He not said, "The Lord takes pleasure in them that fear Him, in
them that hope in His mercy"? If I cannot do more, I can do that! I do
hope in His mercy. Then why should I be turned aside? If any should
think of doing so, it should not be I, for I want to be near Him! I am
such a poor plant that I ought to be kept in the sun–I shall never do
in the shade.

My big brother, perhaps, may manage for a little time without comfort,
but I cannot, for I am one of the Ready-to-Halts. I recollect how the
shepherds of Mount Clear said, "Come in, Mr. Little-Faith! Come in, Mr.
Feeble-Mind! Come in, Mr. Ready-to-Halt! Come in, Mary!" But they did
not say, "Come in, Father Faithful. Come in, Matthew. Come in,
Valiant-for-Truth." No, they said these might do as they liked. They
were quite sure to take their own part–but they looked first to the
most feeble! Then why should I be turned aside? I am the feeblest and
want His Person most. I may use my very feebleness and proneness to
fall as the reason why I should come to Him! Why should I be turned
aside?

I may fall into sin. My heart may grow cold without His glorious
Presence–and then, what if I should perish! Why, here let me think. If
I am the meanest lamb in His flock I cannot perish without doing the
God of Heaven damage. Let me say it again with reverence. If I, the
least of His children, perish, I shall do His Son dishonor, for what
will the arch-fiend say? "Aha," says he, "You Surety of the Covenant,
You could keep the strong, but You could not keep the weak–I have this
lamb here in the pit whom You could not preserve! Here is one of Your
crown jewels," he says, "and though he is none of the brightest, though
he is not the most sparkling ruby in Your coronet, yet he is one of
Your jewels and I have him here in Hell! You have no perfect regalia–I
have a part of it here."

Shall that ever be, after Christ has said, "They shall never perish,
neither shall any pluck them out of My hand"? Shall this be, when the
strong arm of God is engaged for my succor and He has said to me, "The
Eternal God is your refuge. And underneath are the everlasting arms"?
Jesus, turn me not aside, lest by my fall I grieve Your Spirit and lest
by my fall I bring disgrace upon Your name!

Why should I turn aside? There is no reason why I should. Come my Soul,
there are a thousand reasons why you should not! Jesus beckons you to
come. You wounded Saints, you that have slipped to your falling–you
that are grieved, sorrowing and distressed–come to His Cross! Come to
His Throne again! Backsliders, if you have been such, return! Return!
Return! A husband's heart has no door to keep out his spouse and Jesus'
heart has no power to keep out His people!

Return! Return! There is no divorce sued out against you for the Lord,
the God of Jacob says He hates putting away. Return! Return! Let us get
to our chambers, let us seek renewed fellowship. And, oh, you that have
never had it and have never seen Christ, may you thirst after Him
tonight and if you do, remember the text I gave you, "Him that comes to
Me I will in no wise cast out." Whoever you may be, if you will come to
Jesus, He will not cast you out–

"Come and welcome, Sinner, come."

God bring you for Jesus' sake. Amen.