The First Cry from the Cross
A Sermon
(No. 897)
Delivered on Sunday Morning, October 24th, 1869, by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they
do."–Luke 23:34.
OUR LORD WAS at that moment enduring the first pains of crucifixion;
the executioners had just then driven the nails through his hands and
feet. He must have been, moreover, greatly depressed, and brought into
a condition of extreme weakness by the agony of the night in
Gethsemane, and by the scourgings and cruel mockings which he had
endured all through the morning, from Caiaphas, Pilate, Herod, and the
Praetorian guards. Yet neither the weakness of the past, nor the pain
of the present, could prevent him from continuing in prayer. The Lamb
of God was silent to men, but he was not silent to God. Dumb as sheep
before her shearers, he had not a word to say in his own defense to
man, but he continues in his heart crying unto his Father, and no pain
and no weakness can silence his holy supplications. Beloved, what an
example our Lord herein presents to us! Let us continue in prayer so
long as our heart beats; let no excess of suffering drive us away from
the throne of grace, but rather let it drive us closer to it.
"Long as they live should Christians pray,
For only while they pray they live."
To cease from prayer is to renounce the consolations which our case
requires. Under all distractions of spirit, and overwhelmings of heart,
great God, help us still to pray, and never from the mercy-seat may our
footsteps be driven by despair. Our blessed Redeemer persevered in
prayer even when the cruel iron rent his tender nerves, and blow after
blow of the hammer jarred his whole frame with anguish; and this
perseverance may be accounted for by the fact that he was so in the
habit of prayer that he could not cease from it; he had acquired a
mighty velocity of intercession which forbade him to pause. Those long
nights upon the cold mountain side, those many days which had been
spent in solitude, those perpetual ejaculations which he was wont to
dart up to heaven, all these had formed in him a habit so powerful,
that the severest torments could not stay its force. Yet it was more
than habit. Our Lord was baptised in the spirit of prayer; he lived in
it, it lived in him, it had come to be an element of his nature. He was
like that precious spice, which, being bruised, doth not cease to give
forth its perfume, but rather yieldeth it all the more abundantly
because of the blows of the pestle, its fragrance being no outward and
superficial quality, but an inward virtue essential to its nature,
which the pounding in the mortar did not fetch from it, causing it to
reveal its secret soul of sweetness. So Jesus prays, even as a bundle
of myrrh gives forth its smell, or as birds sing because they cannot do
otherwise. Prayer enwrapped his very soul as with a garment, and his
heart went forth in such array. I repeat it, let this be our
example–never, under any circumstances, however severe the trial, or
depressing the difficulty, let us cease from prayer.
Observe, further, that our Lord, in the prayer before us, remains in
the vigour of faith as to his Sonship. The extreme trial to which he
now submitted himself could not prevent his holding fast his Sonship.
His prayer begins, "Father." It was not without meaning that he taught
us when we pray to say, "Our Father," for our prevalence in prayer will
much depend upon our confidence in our relationship to God. Under great
losses and crosses, one is adapt to think that God is not dealing with
us as a father with a child, but rather as a severe judge with a
condemned criminal; but the cry of Christ, when he is brought to an
extremity which we shall never reach, betrays no faltering in the
spirit of sonship. In Gethsemane, when the bloody sweat fell fast upon
the ground, his bitterest cry commenced with, "My Father," asking that
if it were possible the cup of gall might pass from him; he pleaded
with the Lord as his Father, even as he over and over again had called
him on that dark and doleful night. Here, again, in this, the first of
his seven expiring cries, it is "Father." O that the Spirit that makes
us cry, "Abba, Father," may never cease his operations! May we never be
brought into spiritual bondage by the suggestion, "If thou be the Son
of God;" or if the tempter should so assail us, may we triumph as Jesus
did in the hungry wilderness. May the Spirit which crieth, "Abba,
Father," repel each unbelieving fear. When we are chastened, as we must
be (for what son is there whom his father chasteneth not?) may we be in
loving subjection to the Father of our spirits, and live; but never may
we become captives to the spirit of bondage, so as to doubt the love of
our gracious Father, or our share in his adoption.
More remarkable, however, is the fact that our Lord's prayer to his
Father was not for himself. He continued on the cross to pray for
himself, it is true, and his lamentable cry, "My God, my God, why hast
thou forsaken me?" shows the personality of his prayer; but the first
of the seven great cries on the cross has scarcely even an indirect
reference to himself. It is, "Father, forgive them." The petition is
altogether for others, and though there is an allusion to the cruelties
which they were exercising upon himself, yet it is remote; and you will
observe, he does not say, "I forgive them"–that is taken for
granted–he seems to lose sight of the fact that they were doing any
wrong to himself, it is the wrong which they were doing to the Father
that is on his mind, the insult which they are paying to the Father, in
the person of the Son; he thinks not of himself at all. The cry,
"Father, forgive them," is altogether unselfish. He himself is, in the
prayer, as though he were not; so complete is his self-annihilation,
that he loses sight of himself and his woes. My brethren, if there had
ever been a time in the life of the Son of man when he might have
rigidly confined his prayer to himself, without any one cavilling
thereat, surely it was when he was beginning his death throes. We could
not marvel, if any man here were fastened to the stake, or fixed to a
cross, if his first, and even his last and all his prayers, were for
support under so arduous a trial. But see, the Lord Jesus began his
prayer by pleading for others. See ye not what a great heart is here
revealed! What a soul of compassion was in the Crucified! How Godlike,
how divine! Was there ever such a one before him, who, even in the very
pangs of death, offers as his first prayer an intercession for others?
Let this unselfish spirit be in you also, my brethren. Look not every
man upon his own things, but every man also on the things of others.
Love your neighbours as yourselves, and as Christ has set before you
this paragon of unselfishness, seek to follow him, treading in his
steps.
There is, however, a crowning jewel in this diadem of glorious love.
The Son of Righteousness sets upon Calvary in a wondrous splendour; but
amongst the bright colours which glorify his departure, there is this
one–the prayer was not alone for others, but it was for his cruellest
enemies. His enemies, did I say, there is more than that to be
considered. It was not a prayer for enemies who had done him an ill
deed years before, but for those who were there and then murdering him.
Not in cold blood did the Saviour pray, after he had forgotten the
injury, and could the more easily forgive it, but while the first red
drops of blood were spurting on the hands which drove the nails; while
yet the hammer was bestained with crimson gore, his blessed mouth
poured out the fresh warm prayer, "Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do." I say, not that that prayer was confined to his
immediate executioners. I believe that it was a far-reaching prayer,
which included Scribes and Pharisees, Pilate and Herod, Jews and
Gentiles–yea, the whole human race in a certain sense, since we were
all concerned in that murder; but certainly the immediate persons, upon
whom that prayer was poured like precious nard, were those who there
and then were committing the brutal act of fastening him to the
accursed tree. How sublime is this prayer if viewed in such a light! It
stands alone upon a mount of solitary glory. No other had been prayed
like it before. It is true, Abraham, and Moses, and the prophets had
prayed for the wicked; but not for wicked men who had pierced their
hands and feet. It is true, that Christians have since that day offered
the same prayer, even as Stephen cried, "Lay not this sin to their
charge;" and many a martyr has made his last words at the stake words
of pitying intercession for his persecutors; but you know where they
learnt this, let me ask you where did he learn it? Was not Jesus the
divine original? He learnt it nowhere; it leaped up from his own
Godlike nature. A compassion peculiar to himself dictated this
originality of prayer; the inward royalty of his love suggested to him
so memorable an intercession, which may serve us for a pattern, but of
which no pattern had existed before. I feel as though I could better
kneel before my Lord's cross at this moment than stand in this pulpit
to talk to you. I want to adore him; I worship him in heart for that
prayer; if I knew nothing else of him but this one prayer, I must adore
him, for that one matchless plea for mercy convinces me most
overwhelmingly of the deity of him who offered it, and fills my heart
with reverent affection.
Thus I have introduced to you our Lord's first vocal prayer upon the
cross. I shall now, if we are helped by God's Holy Spirit, make some
use of it. First, we shall view it as illustrative of our Saviour's
intercession; secondly, we shall regard the text as instructive to the
church's work; thirdly, we shall consider it as suggestive to the
unconverted.
I. First, my dear brethren, let us look at this very wonderful text as
ILLUSTRATIVE OF OUR LORD'S INTERCESSION.
He prayed for his enemies then, he is praying for his enemies now; the
past on the cross was an earnest of the present on the throne. He is in
a higher place, and in a nobler condition, but his occupation is the
same; he continues still before the eternal throne to present pleas on
the behalf of guilty men, crying, "Father, O forgive them." All his
intercession is in a measure like the intercession on Calvary, and
Calvary's cries may help us to guess the character of the whole of his
intercession above.
The first point in which we may see the character of his intercession
is this–it is most gracious. Those for whom our Lord prayed, according
to the text, did not deserve his prayer. They had done nothing which
could call forth from him a benediction as a reward for their
endeavours in his service; on the contrary, they were most undeserving
persons, who had conspired to put him to death. They had crucified him,
crucified him wantonly and malignantly; they were even taking away his
innocent life. His clients were persons who, so far from being
meritorious, were utterly undeserving of a single good wish from the
Saviour's heart. They certainly never asked him to pray for them–it
was the last thought in their minds to say, "Intercede for us, thou
dying King! Offer petitions on our behalf, thou Son of God!" I will
venture to believe the prayer itself, when they heard it, was either
disregarded, and passed over with contemptuous indifference, or perhaps
it was caught as a theme for jest. I admit that it seems to be too
severe upon humanity to suppose it possible that such a prayer could
have been the theme for laughter, and yet there were other things
enacted around the cross which were quite as brutal, and I can imagine
that this also might have happened. Yet our Saviour prayed for persons
who did not deserve the prayer, but, on the contrary, merited a
curse–persons who did not ask for the prayer, and even scoffed at it
when they heard it. Even so in heaven there stands the great High
Priest, who pleads for guilty men–for guilty men, my hearers. There
are none on earth that deserve his intercession. He pleads for none on
the supposition that they do deserve it. He stands there to plead as
the just One on the behalf of the unjust. Not if any man be righteous,
but "if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father." Remember,
too, that our great Intercessor pleads for such as never asked him to
plead for them. His elect, while yet dead in trespasses and sins, are
the objects of his compassionate intercessions, and while they even
scoff at his gospel, his heart of love is entreating the favour of
heaven on their behalf. See, then, beloved, if such be the truth, how
sure you are to spend with God who earnestly ask the Lord Jesus Christ
to plead for you. Some of you, with many tears and much earnestness,
have been beseeching the Saviour to be your advocate? Will he refuse
you? Stands it to reason that he can? He pleads for those that reject
his pleadings, much more for you who prize them beyond gold. Remember,
my dear hearer, if there be nothing good in you, and if there be
everything conceivable that is malignant and bad, yet none of these
things can be any barrier to prevent Christ's exercising the office of
Intercessor for you. Even for you he will plead. Come, put your case
into his hands; for you he will find pleas which you cannot discover
for yourselves, and he will put the case to God for you as for his
murderers, "Father, forgive them."
A second quality of his intercession is this–its careful spirit. You
notice in the prayer, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what
they do." Our Saviour did, as it were, look his enemies through and
through to find something in them that he could urge in their favour;
but he could not see nothing until his wisely affectionate eye lit upon
their ignorance: "they know not what they do." How carefully he
surveyed the circumstances, and the characters of those for whom he
importuned! Just so it is with him in heaven. Christ is no careless
advocate for his people. He knows your precise condition at this
moment, and the exact state of your heart with regard to the temptation
through which you are passing; more than that, he foresees the
temptation which is awaiting you, and in his intercession he takes note
of the future event which his prescient eye beholds. "Satan hath
desired to have thee, that he may sift thee as wheat; but I have prayed
for thee that thy faith fail not." Oh, the condescending tenderness of
our great High Priest! He knows us better than we know ourselves. He
understands every secret grief and groaning. You need not trouble
yourself about the wording of your prayer, he will put the wording
right. And even the understanding as to the exact petition, if you
should fail in it, he cannot, for as he knoweth what is the mind of
God, so he knoweth what is your mind also. He can spy out some reason
for mercy in you which you cannot detect in yourselves, and when it is
so dark and cloudy with your soul that you cannot discern a foothold
for a plea that you may urge with heaven, the Lord Jesus has the pleas
ready framed, and petitions ready drawn up, and he can present them
acceptable before the mercy-seat. His intercession, then, you will
observe is very gracious, and in the next place it is very thoughtful.
We must next note its earnestness. No one doubts who reads these words,
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," that they were
heaven-piercing in their fervour. Brethren, you are certain, even
without a thought, that Christ was terribly in earnest in that prayer.
But there is an argument to prove that. Earnest people are usually
witty, and quick of understanding, to discover anything which may serve
their turn. If you are pleading for life, and an argument for your
being spared be asked of you, I will warrant you that you will think of
one when no one else might. Now, Jesus was so in earnest for the
salvation of his enemies, that he struck upon an argument for mercy
which a less anxious spirit would not have thought of: "They know not
what they do." Why, sirs, that was in strictest justice but a scant
reason for mercy; and indeed, ignorance, if it be wilful, does not
extenuate sin, and yet the ignorance of many who surrounded the cross
was a wilful ignorance. They might have known that he was the Lord of
glory. Was not Moses plain enough? Had not Esaias been very bold in his
speech? Were not the signs and tokens such that one might as well doubt
which is the sun in the firmament as the claims of Jesus to be the
Messias? Yet, for all that, the Saviour, with marvelous earnestness and
consequent dexterity, turns what might not have been a plea into a
plea, and puts it thus: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what
they do." Oh, how mighty are his pleas in heaven, then, in their
earnestness! Do not suppose that he is less quick of understanding
there, or less intense in the vehemence of his entreaties. No, my
brethren, the heart of Christ still labours with the eternal God. He is
no slumbering intercessor, but, for Zion's sake, he doth not hold his
peace, and for Jerusalem's sake, he doth not cease, nor will he, till
her righteousness go forth as brightness, and her salvation as a lamp
that burneth.
It is interesting to note, in the fourth place, that the prayer here
offered helps us to judge of his intercession in heaven as to its
continuance, perseverance, and perpetuity. As I remarked before, if our
Saviour might have paused from intercessory prayer, it was surely when
they fastened him to the tree; when they were guilty of direct acts of
deadly violence to his divine person, he might then have ceased to
present petitions on their behalf. But sin cannot tie the tongue of our
interceding Friend! Oh, what comfort is here! You have sinned,
believer, you have grieved his Spirit, but you have not stopped that
potent tongue which pleads for you. You have been unfruitful, perhaps,
my brother, and like the barren tree, you deserve to be cut down; but
your want of fruitfulness has not withdrawn the Intercessor from his
place. He interposes at this moment, crying, "Spare it yet another
year." Sinner, you have provoked God by long rejecting his mercy and
going from bad to worse, but neither blasphemy nor unrighteousness, nor
infidelity, shall stay the Christ of God from urging the suit of the
very chief of sinners. He lives, and while he lives he pleads; and
while there is a sinner upon earth to be saved, there shall be an
intercessor in heaven to plead for him. These are but fragments of
thought, but they will help you, I hope, to realise the intercession of
your great High Priest.
Think yet again, this prayer of our Lord on earth is like his prayer in
heaven, because of its wisdom. He seeks the best thing, and that which
his clients most need, "Father, forgive them." That was the great point
in hand; they wanted most of all there and then forgiveness from God.
He does not say, "Father, enlighten them, for they know not what they
do," for mere enlightenment would but have created torture of
conscience and hastened on their hell; but he crieth, "Father,
forgive;" and while he used his voice, the precious drops of blood
which were then distilling from the nail wounds were pleading too, and
God heard, and doubtless did forgive. The first mercy which is needful
to guilty sinners is forgiven sin. Christ wisely prays for the boon
most wanted. It is so in heaven; he pleads wisely and prudently. Let
him alone, he knows what to ask for at the divine hand. Go you to the
mercy-seat, and pour out your desires as best you can, but when you
have done so always put it thus, "O my Lord Jesus, answer no desire of
mine if it be not according to thy judgment; and if in aught that I
have asked I have failed to seek for what I want, amend my pleading,
for thou art infinitely wiser than I." Oh, is it sweet to have a friend
at court to perfect our petitions for us before they come unto the
great King. I believed that there is never presented to God anything
but a perfect prayer now; I mean, that before the great Father of us
all, no prayer of his people ever comes up imperfect; there is nothing
left out, and there is nothing to be erased; and this, not because
their prayers were originally perfect in themselves, but because the
Mediator makes them perfect through his infinite wisdom, and they come
up before the mercy-seat moulded according to the mind of God himself,
and he is sure to grant such prayers.
Once more, this memorable prayer of our crucified Lord was like to his
universal intercession in the matter of its prevalence. Those for whom
he prayed were many of them forgiven. Do you remember that he said to
his disciples when he bade them preach, "beginning at Jerusalem," and
on that day when Peter stood up with the eleven, and charged the people
with wicked hands they had crucified and slain the Saviour, three
thousand of these persons who were thus justly accused of his
crucifixion became believers in him, and were baptised in his name.
That was an answer to Jesus' prayer. The priest were at the bottom of
the Lord's murder, they were the most guilty; but it is said, "a great
company also of the priests believed." Here was another answer to the
prayer. Since all men had their share representatively, Gentiles as
well as Jews, in the death of Jesus, the gospel was soon preached to
the Jews, and within a short time it was preached to the Gentiles also.
Was not this prayer, "Father, forgive them," like a stone cast into a
lake, forming at first a narrow circle, and then a wider ring, and soon
a larger sphere, until the whole lake is covered with circling waves?
Such a prayer as this, cast into the whole world, first created a
little ring of Jewish converts and of priest, and then a wider circle
of such as were beneath the Roman sway; and to-day its circumference is
wide as the globe itself, so that tens of thousands are saved through
the prevalence of this one intercession "Father, forgive them." It is
certainly so with him in heaven, he never pleads in vain. With bleeding
hands, he yet won the day; with feet fastened to the wood, he was yet
victorious; forsaken of God and despised of the people, he was yet
triumphant in his pleas; how much more so now the tiara is about his
brow, his hand grasp the universal sceptre, and his feet are shod with
silver sandals, and he is crowned King of kings, and Lord of lords! If
tears and cries out of weakness were omnipotent, even more mighty if
possible must be that sacred authority which as the risen Priest he
claims when he stands before the Father's throne to mention the
covenant which the Father made with him. O ye trembling believers,
trust him with your concerns! Come hither, ye guilty, and ask him to
plead for you. O you that cannot pray, come, ask him to intercede for
you. Broken hearts and weary heads, and disconsolate bosoms, come ye to
him who into the golden censer will put his merits, and then place your
prayers with them, so that they shall come up as the smoke of perfume,
even as a fragrant cloud into the nostrils of the Lord God of hosts,
who will smell a sweet savour, and accept you and your prayers in the
Beloved. We have now opened up more than enough sea-room for your
meditations at home this afternoon, and, therefore we leave this first
point. We have an illustration in the prayer of Christ on the cross of
what his prayers always are in heaven.
II. Secondly, the text is INSTRUCTIVE OF THE CHURCH'S WORK.
As Christ was, so his church is to be in this world. Christ came into
this world not to be ministered unto, but to minister, not to be
honoured, but to save others. His church, when she understands her
work, will perceive that she is not here to gather to herself wealth or
honour, or to seek any temporal aggrandisement and position; she is
here unselfishly to live, and if need be, unselfishly to die for the
deliverance of the lost sheep, the salvation of lost men. Brethren,
Christ's prayer on the cross I told you was altogether an unselfish
one. He does not remember himself in it. Such ought to be the church's
life-prayer, the church's active interposition on the behalf of
sinners. She ought to live never for her ministers or for herself, but
ever for the lost sons of men. Imagine you that churches are formed to
maintain ministers? Do you conceive that the church exists in this land
merely that so much salary may be given to bishops, and deans, and
prebends, and curates, and I know not what? My brethren, it were well
if the whole thing were abolished if that were its only aim. The aim of
the church is not to provide out-door relief for the younger sons of
nobility; when they have not brains enough to win anyhow else their
livelihood, they are stuck into family livings. Churches are not made
that men of ready speech may stand up on Sundays and talk, and so win
daily bread from their admirers. Nay, there is another end and aim from
this. These places are not built that you may sit here comfortably, and
hear something that shall make you pass away your Sundays with
pleasure. A church in London which does not exist to do good in the
slums, and dens, and kennels of the city, is a church that has no
reason to justify its longer existing. A church that does not exist to
reclaim heathenism, to fight with evil, to destroy error, to put down
falsehood, a church that does not exist to take the side of the poor,
to denounce injustice and to hold up righteousness, is a church that
has no right to be. Not for thyself, O church, dost thou exist, any
more than Christ existed for himself. His glory was that he laid aside
his glory, and the glory of the church is when she lays aside her
respectability and her dignity, and counts it to be her glory to gather
together the outcast, and her highest honour to seek amid the foulest
mire the priceless jewels for which Jesus shed his blood. To rescue
souls from hell and lead to God, to hope, to heaven, this is her
heavenly occupation. O that the church would always feel this! Let her
have her bishops and her preachers, and let them be supported, and let
everything be done for Christ's sake decently and in order, but let the
end be looked to, namely, the conversion of the wandering, the teaching
of the ignorant, the help of the poor, the maintenance of the right,
the putting down of the wrong, and the upholding at all hazards of the
crown and kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Now the prayer of Christ had a great spirituality of aim. You notice
that nothing is sought for these people but that which concerns their
souls, "Father, forgive them." And I believe the church will do well
when she recollects that she wrestles not with flesh and blood, nor
with principalities and powers, but with spiritual wickedness, and that
what she has to dispense is not the law and order by which magistrates
may be upheld, or tyrannies pulled down, but the spiritual government
by which hearts are conquered to Christ, and judgments are brought into
subjection to his truth. I believe that the more the church of God
strains after, before God, the forgiveness of sinners, and the more she
seeks in her life prayer to teach sinners what sin is, and what the
blood of Christ is, and what the hell that must follow if sin be not
washed out, and what the heaven is which will be ensured to all those
who are cleansed from sin, the more she keeps to this the better. Press
forward as one man, my brethren, to secure the root of the matter in
the forgiveness of sinners. As to all the evils that afflict humanity,
by all means take your share in battling with them; let temperance be
maintained, let education be supported; let reforms, political and
ecclesiastical, be pushed forward as far as you have the time and the
effort to spare, but the first business of every Christian man and
women is with the hearts and consciences of men as they stand before
the everlasting God. O let nothing turn you aside from your divine
errand of mercy to undying souls. This is your one business. Tell to
sinners that sin will damn them, that Christ alone can take away sin,
and make this the one passion of your souls, "Father, forgive them,
forgive them! Let them know how to be forgiven. Let them be actually
forgiven, and let me never rest except as I am the means of bringing
sinners to be forgiven, even the guiltiest of them."
Our Saviour's prayer teaches the church that while her spirit should be
unselfish, and her aim should be spiritual, the range of her mission is
to be unlimited. Christ prayed for the wicked, what if I say the most
wicked of the wicked, that ribald crew that had surrounded his cross!
He prayed for the ignorant. Doth he not say, "They know not what they
do"? He prayed for his persecutors; the very persons who were most at
enmity with him, lay nearest to his heart. Church of God, your mission
is not to the respectable few who will gather about your ministers to
listen respectfully to their words; your mission is not to the 'lite
and the eclectic, the intelligent who will criticise your words and
pass judgment upon every syllable of your teaching; your mission is not
to those who treat you kindly, generously, affectionately, not to these
I mean alone, though certainly to these as among the rest; but your
great errand is to the harlot, to the thief, to the swearer and the
drunkard, to the most depraved and debauched. If no one else cares for
these, the church always must, and if there be any who are first in her
prayers it should be these who alas! are generally last in our
thoughts. The ignorant we ought diligently to consider. It is not
enough for the preacher that he preaches so that those instructed from
their youth up can understand him; he must think of those to whom the
commonest phrases of theological truth are as meaningless as the jargon
of an unknown tongue; he must preach so as to reach the meanest
comprehension; and if the ignorant may come not to hear him, he must
use such means as best he may to induce them, nay, compel them to hear
the good news. The gospel is meant also for those who persecute
religion; it aims its arrows of love against the hearts of his foes. If
there be any whom we should first seek to bring to Jesus, it should be
just these who are the farthest off and the most opposed to the gospel
of Christ. "Father, forgive them; if thou dost pardon none besides, yet
be pleased to forgive them."
So, too, the church should be earnest as Christ was; and if she be so,
she will be quick to notice any ground of hope in those she deals with,
quick to observe any plea that she may use with God for their
salvation.
She must be hopeful too, and surely no church ever had a more hopeful
sphere than the church of this present age. If ignorance be a plea with
God, look on the heathen at this day–millions of them never heard
Messiah's name. Forgive them, great God, indeed they know not what they
do. If ignorance be some ground for hope, there is hope enough in this
great city of London, for have we not around us hundreds of thousands
to whom the simplest truths of the gospel would be the greatest
novelties? Brethren, it is sad to think that this country should still
lie under such a pall of ignorance, but the sting of so dread a fact is
blunted with hope when we read the Saviour's prayer aright–it helps us
to hope while we cry, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
It is the church's business to seek after the most fallen and the most
ignorant, and to seek them perseveringly. She should never stay her
hand from doing good. If the Lord be coming to-morrow, it is no reason
why you Christian people should not subside into mere talkers and
readers, meeting together for mutual comfort, and forgetting the
myriads of perishing souls. If it be true that this world is going to
pieces in a fortnight, and that Louis Napoleon is the Apocalyptic
beast, or if it be not true, I care not a fig, it makes no difference
to my duty, and does not change my service. Let my Lord come when he
will, while I labour for him I am ready for his appearing. The business
of the church is still to watch for the salvation of souls. If she
stood gazing, as modern prophets would have her; if she gave up her
mission to indulge in speculative interpretations, she might well be
afraid of her Lord's coming; but if she goes about her work, and with
incessant toil searches out her Lord's precious jewels, she shall not
be ashamed when her Bridegroom cometh.
My time has been much too short for so vast a subject as I have
undertaken, but I wish I could speak words that were as loud as
thunder, with a sense and earnestness as mighty as the lightening. I
would fain excite every Christian here, and kindle in him a right idea
of what his work is as a part of Christ's church. My brethren, you must
not live to yourselves; the accumulation of money, the bringing up of
your children, the building of houses, the earning of your daily bread,
all this you may do; but there must be a greater object than this if
you are to be Christlike, as you should be, since you are bought with
Jesus' blood. Begin to live for others, make it apparent unto all men
that you are not yourselves the end-all and be-all of your own
existence, but that you are spending and being spent, that through the
good you do to men God may be glorified, and Christ may see in you his
own image and be satisfied.
III. Time fails me, but the last point was to be a word SUGGESTIVE TO
THE UNCONVERTED.
Listen attentively to these sentences. I will make them as terse and
condensed as possible. Some of you here are not saved. Now, some of you
have been very ignorant, and when you sinned you did not know what you
did. You knew you were sinners, you knew that, but you did not know the
far-reaching guilt of sin. You have not been attending the house of
prayer long, you have not read your Bible, you have not Christian
parents. Now you are beginning to be anxious about your souls. Remember
your ignorance does not excuse you, or else Christ would not say,
"Forgive them;" they must be forgiven, even those that know not what
they do, hence they are individually guilty; but still that ignorance
of yours gives you just a little gleam of hope. The times of your
ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth all men everywhere to
repent. Bring forth, therefore, fruits meet for repentance. The God
whom you have ignorantly forgotten is willing to pardon and ready to
forgive. The gospel is just this, trust Jesus Christ who died for the
guilty, and you shall be saved. O may God help you to do so this very
morning, and you will become new men and new women, a change will take
place in you equal to a new birth; you will be new creatures in Christ
Jesus.
But ah! My friends, there are some here for whom even Christ himself
could not pray this prayer, in the widest sense at any rate, "Father,
forgive them; for they know not what they do," for you have known what
you did, and every sermon you hear, and especially every impression
that is made upon your understanding and conscience by the gospel, adds
to your responsibility, and takes away from you the excuse of not
knowing what you do. Ah! Sirs, you know that there is the world and
Christ, and that you cannot have both. You know that there is sin and
God, and that you cannot serve both. You know that there are the
pleasure of evil and the pleasures of heaven, and that you cannot have
both. Oh! In the light which God has given you, may his Spirit also
come and help you to choose that which true wisdom would make you
choose. Decide to-day for God, for Christ, for heaven. The Lord decide
you for his name's sake. Amen.
PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Luke 23:1-34.