The Sinner’S Advocate

The Sinner'S Advocate
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, JUNE 21,1863, BY THE REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"My little children, these things write I unto you, that you sin not.
And if any man sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ
the righteous. 1 John 2:1.
THE Apostle John presents us with a very clear and emphatic testimony
to the doctrine of full and free forgiveness of sin. He declares that
the blood of Jesus Christ, God's dear Son, cleans us from all sin, and
that if any man sins, we have an Advocate. It is most evident that he
is not afraid of doing mischief by stating this Truth of God too
broadly. On the contrary, he makes this statement with the view of
promoting the sanctity of his "little children." The object of this
bold declaration of the love of the Father to His sinning children is,
"that you sin not." This is a triumphant answer to that grossly
untruthful objection which is so often urged by the adversaries of the
Gospel against the doctrines of Free Grace–that they lead men to
licentiousness.
It does not appear that the Apostle John thought so, for in order that
these "little children" should not sin, he actually declares unto them
the very doctrine which our opponents call licentious. Those men who
think that God's Grace, when fully, fairly, and plainly preached, will
lead men into sin, know not what they say, nor what they affirm. It is
neither according to nature nor to Grace for men to find an argument
for sin in the goodness of God. Human nature is bad enough–and far be
it from me to flatter that leprous criminal, that reeking mass of
corruption–even a natural conscience revolts at the baseness of
sinning because Divine Grace abounds!
Shall I hate God because He is kind to me? Shall I curse Him because He
blesses me? I venture to affirm that very few men reason thus. Man has
found out many inventions, but such arguments are so transparently
abominable that few consciences are so dead as to tolerate them. Bad as
human nature is, it seldom turns the goodness of God into an argument
for rebelling against Him. As for souls renewed by Divine Grace, they
never can be guilty of such infamy. The Believer in Jesus reasons in
quite another fashion. Is God so good?–then I will not grieve Him. Is
He so ready to forgive my trans-gressions?–then I will love Him, by
His Grace, and offend no more. Gratitude has bands which are stronger
than iron, although softer than silk.
Think not, Sirs, that the Christian needs to be flogged to virtue by
the whip of the Law! Dream not that we hate sin merely because of the
Hell which follows it! If there were no Heaven for the righteous, the
sons of God would follow after goodness because their regenerated
spirit pants for it. And if there were no Hell for the wicked, from the
necessity of his new-born nature, the true Christian would strive to
escape from all iniquity. Loved of God, we feel we must love Him in
return. Richly, yes, Divinely forgiven, we feel that we cannot live any
longer in sin. Since Jesus died to rid us from all uncleanness, we feel
that we cannot crucify our Lord afresh, and put Him to an open shame.
We need no nobler or more cogent arguments to lead a man to thorough
consecration to God's cause and detestation of all evil than those
fetched from the Free Grace of God. And what if some men do pervert the
doctrine? Do not wicked minds corrupt everything? What Truth is there
in Scripture with which a man may not ruin himself if he wills? Did not
the prophetic eye of our Lord anticipate this when it was written that
to some the Word of God is, "a savor of death unto death?" Have there
not been in all ages men who hold the Truth of God in licentiousness?
When were there not evil men to wrest Scripture to their own
destruction? Shall we keep back the children's bread least the dogs
should steal the crumbs?
Shall we destroy health-restoring drugs because fools may poison
themselves with them? Shall all the trees be cut down for fear the owls
should build their nests in them? Shall the sea be dried up because
sharks swim in it? Shall the pure virgin Truth be condemned because
gross villains have forged her name and abused her character? God
forbid! Let us never blush to preach the whole Gospel and to preach its
full forgiveness of sin in the boldest and baldest manner, believ- ing
that the naked breasts of Truth are her best armor, and that she is
least protected when she is encumbered with a coat of mail of human
reasoning and prudence.
As God shall help me, then, believing that the doctrine of Free Grace
and of God's infinite love to His people is a doctrine which will lead
the "little children of God" to avoid all sin, I intend this morning to
preach that doctrine. May God grant that the result may be according to
His mind and will.
I. We commence our exposition of the text with the remark that THE
SAINT IS STILL A SINNER. Our Apostle says–"If any man sins." The "if
may be written in as small letters as you will, for the supposition is
a matter of certainty. "If any man sins"? Although the gentle hand of
the beloved disciple uses such mild and tender terms, putting it as a
supposition–as though it were an astonishing thing after so much love
and mercy and kindness, that we should sin– yet John very well knew
that all the saints do sin, for he has himself declared that if any man
says that he does not sin he is a liar, and the Truth is not in him.
Saints are, without exception, still sinners. Far be it from us to deny
that Divine Grace has worked a wondrous change–it were not Grace at
all if it had not. It will be well to note this change. The Christian
no longer loves sin. It is the object of his sternest horror. He no
longer regards it as a mere trifle, plays with it, or talks of it with
unconcern. He looks upon it as a deadly serpent whose very shadow is to
be avoided. He would no more venture voluntarily to put its cup to his
lip than a man would drink poison who had once almost lost his life
through it. Sin is dejected in the Christian's heart, though it is not
ejected. Sin may enter the heart and fight for dominion, but it cannot
sit upon the throne. It haunts the town of Mansoul and lurks in dens
and corners to do mischief, but it is no longer honored in the streets,
nor pampered in the palace. The head and the hands of Dagon are broken,
although the stump remains.
The Christian never sins with that enormity of boasting of which the
unregenerate are guilty. Others wallow in transgressions and make their
shame their glory, but if the Believer falls he is very quiet, mournful
and vexed. Sinners go to their sins as children to their own father's
orchard, but Believers slink away like thieves when they have been
stealing forbidden fruit. Shame and sin are always in close company in
a Christian. If he is drunken with evil he will be ashamed of himself
and go to his bed like a whipped cur. He cannot proclaim his
transgressions as some do in the midst of a ribald crowd, boasting of
their exploits of evil. His heart is broken within him, and when he has
sinned he goes with sore bones for many and many a day.
Nor does he sin with the fullness of deliberation that belongs to other
men. The sinner can sit down by the months together and think over the
iniquity that he means to perpetrate, till he gets his plans well
organized and has matured his project. But the Christian cannot do
this. He may put the sin into his mouth and swallow it in a moment, but
he cannot continue to roll it under his tongue. He who can carefully
arrange and plot a transgression is still a true child of the old
serpent.
And again, the Believer never chews the cud of his sin. For after he
has sinned, however sweet it may have been in his mouth, it becomes
bitterness in his heart–and glad enough is he to be rid of it
altogether. The retrospect of sin to a converted man is nothing but
blackness and darkness in his heart. The Christian, unlike other men,
never finds enjoyment in his sin. He is out of his element in it.
Conscience pricks him. He cannot, even if he would, sin like others.
There is a refined taste within him which all the while revolts at the
apparently dainty morsel of sin. The finger of Divine Grace, with its
secret and mysterious touch, turns all the honey into gall, and all the
sweetness into wormwood.
If the Christian shall sin, and sin, I grant he will, yet it shall
always be with half-heartedness–still he clings to the right. The evil
that he would not, he does, while the good that he would do, he fails
to perform. You will notice, too, how different the Christian is as to
the habit of sin. The ungodly man is frequent in overt deeds of
rebellion, but the Christian, at least in open acts of crime and folly,
rather falls into them rather than abides in them. The swallow dips
with his wing the brook and then he is up again into the skies, soaring
toward the sun. But the duck can swim in the pool or dive under the
water–it is in its element. So the Christian just touches sometimes
with his wing–alas, for him–the streams of earth, but then he is up
again where he should be.
It is only the sinner that can swim in sin and delight therein. You may
drive the swine and the sheep together side by side. They come to some
mire and they both fall into it, and both stain themselves. But you
soon detect the difference in nature between them–for while the swine
lies and wallows with intense gusto–the sheep is up again, escaping as
soon as possible from the filth. So with the Christian. He falls, God
knows how many times, but by His Grace, he rises up again–it is not
his nature to lie in sin. He abhors himself that ever he should fall to
the ground at all–while the ungodly goes on in his wicked way till sin
becomes a habit and habit like an iron net has entangled him in its
meshes.
There are all these degrees of difference between the Christian and the
ungodly man and far more, for the Believer is a new creature–he
belongs to a holy generation and a peculiar people. The Spirit of God
is in him and in all respects he is far removed from the natural man.
But for all that we must come back to that with which we started–that
the Christian is still a sinner. He is so from the imperfection of his
nature. His nature is such that he cannot but sin until the old Adam
shall die in him–and that will not be till the funeral knell is tolled
for himself.
Sin, by reason of his imperfection, pollutes the best thing the
Believer does. Sin mars his repentance. There is filth in our tears and
unbelief in our faith. The best thing we ever did apart from the merit
of Jesus only swelled the number of our sins, for when we have been
most pure in our own sight, yet, like the heavens, we are not pure in
God's sight. And as He charged His angels with folly, much more must He
charge us with it, even in our most angelic frame of mind. The song
that thrills to Heaven and seeks to emulate seraphic strains has still
mortal infirmity in it. The prayer which moves the arm of God is still
a sinful prayer, and only moves that arm because the Sinless One, the
great Mediator, has stepped in to take away the sin of our
supplication.
I dare to say it–the best faith or the highest degree of
sanctification to which a Christian ever attained on earth, has still
so much of the creature's infirmity in it as to be worthy of God's
eternal wrath. In itself considered, there is so much sin about the
highest and loftiest thing to which the creature can attain, that we
mournfully confess–"We are altogether as an unclean thing and all our
righteousnesses are but as filthy rags."
As the Christian thus sins in his devout performances, so he constantly
errs in the everyday tenor of his life. Sins of omission to wit–how
many of these may be compressed into a single hour? Oh, what multitudes
of things we have left undone! Remember that these make up a very great
part of the sins which brings the curse. "I was thirsty and you gave Me
no drink, sick and in prison and you visited Me not." Have we no sins
of commission? Our thoughts, our imaginations, our words, and must I
not say our deeds–have these been what they should be? If any man dare
to tell me that he lives for a single day without a sinful deed, I will
dare to tell him that he never knew himself.
Do but look at your own chamber. If you disturb it I see but little
dust floating about in it, but if a stray sunbeam shall enter through
the window I see millions upon millions of little motes dancing up and
down! And I discover that the whole of what I supposed to be clear,
pure air, is filled with innumerable atoms of all sorts of things, and
that I am breathing these even in the purest atmosphere. So is it with
our heart and life. When the Spirit shines into us, we see that the
atmosphere of life is as full of sin as it can hold. A man may sooner
count the hairs of his head, or the sands upon the seashore, or the
drops of the dew of the morning upon the grass, than count the sins of
a single day.
O Lord, You know us, but we know not ourselves. Yet this much we know,
that we are a people full of sin and laden with iniquity. You will tell
me these are little sins, but I remind you that a multitude of grains
of sand may overload a vessel quite as surely as bars of iron–and
therefore these daily iniquities should be confessed with care and
repented of with sincerity. The Christian, then, from the imperfection
of his nature, sins. The old unchanged fountain of Harah must send
forth bitter water. The old Adam can do nothing else but sin.
Fire can do nothing but burn. Water can do nothing but quench fire.
Everything acts according to its nature. The new nature that is in us
cannot sin, because it is born of God. It is so heavenly and Divine
that it never stoops to anything like sin. There is a spark of the
celestial and of the perfect within every Believer which never can be
quenched. But the old Adam, that which made Paul cry out–"O wretched
man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"–must
sin and as certainly as sparks fly upward, so certainly the old nature
will commit iniquity.
Moreover, many Christian people sin from certain peculiar infirmities.
You know, each of you, what your own infirmity may be, at least I hope
you have been watchful enough to discover it. Some sin through
shortness of temper. They are not long-winded in patience with their
fellow creatures. They are vexed. They grow hot–perhaps they imagine
some cause for anger where there is none–and they wax warm and speak
unadvisedly with their tongue. This gives much trouble to many of the
most gracious of men. A hasty temper is a perpetual temptation.
There are others who have a high and proud spirit and if they fancy
they are a little snubbed or put into the back ground, at once they
feel inclined to resent it. There–listen to him–I am not to be thus
trod upon! Who dares to treat me thus?" Many who have done good service
for Christ have had to carry that thorn in their flesh even down to
their graves. Sensitiveness, a high spirit, a suspicious
temperament–these are like blisters to the feet of a pilgrim–he will
always walk painfully, if not slowly. Some of us have to contend with
sloth. Perhaps we are afflicted with a torpid liver, and the physician
has never been able to touch the complaint.
God help the man thus afflicted, for he will need to whip himself every
day to his duty. And often he will feel so dull and sleepy, that he
will wish for Cowper's "lodge in a vast wilderness, some boundless
contiguity of shade," that he might hide himself in quiet from the toil
of the spiritual harvest. How many we know, dear Friends, who have to
contend with constant unbelief brought on through depression of
spirits. Their nerves, perhaps, have experienced a great shock at some
period in life and, constitutionally, they look always at the black
side of affairs. If they see a grassy knoll they suspect it to be an
extinct volcano. And if they happen to be in a green valley where the
mountains frown like the battlements of Heaven, they are dreadfully
afraid that an avalanche must certainly come down and destroy them.
They cannot help it. It is a peculiarity of their constitution, but it
leads them into much sin, and should cause them much repentance before
the face of the living God. So I might go on to mention the peculiarity
of some who are suffering from bashfulness. They will often be tempted
to hold back where they ought to go forward–and if not to disavow
their Master–yet not to proclaim their love for Him as boldly as they
should do. The Christian, when he reads this verse, "If any man sins,"
may well say–"Ah, indeed I do. Through these infirmities I constantly
commit iniquity."
And then, dear Friends, we all sin from the assaults of evil. There are
times when we are not watchful, and as Satan is always on his
watchtower he is sure to attack us just then. We wear our visor up, and
then in flies the stone from the infernal sling. We have forgotten a
piece of our armor and the enemy spies our nakedness and cuts us deep,
leaving a scar for years. The temptations of the world, when we are
thrust into ungodly company, and the trials of business, and even of
the household–all these in unguarded moments may take the Christian
off his feet.
Ah, my Brothers and Sisters, Paul, who was not a whit behind the very
chief of the Apostles, yet called himself the chief of sinners. And we
with far inferior graces must take the lowest place, acknowledging that
in us, that is in our flesh, there dwells no good thing. Sinner is my
name, sinner my nature, but thanks be to Him who came to save sinners,
I am a sinner saved by Free Grace.
II. I now leave that point for a second one full of comfort. OUR SINS
DO NOT DEPRIVE US OF OUR INTEREST IN CHRIST. Note the text. "If any man
sins we have an Advocate." Yes, we have Him though we sin. We have Him
still. It does not say, "If any man sins he has forfeited his
Advocate," but, "we have an Advocate." Sinners though we are, all the
sin that a Believer ever did or can be allowed to commit, cannot
destroy his interest in the Lord Jesus Christ. Into whatever he may be
suffered to fall, yet none of these things can by any possibility touch
his title deeds. Indeed, in some characters Jesus is only mine when I
can claim the name of sinner.
I cannot have an Advocate unless I do sin, otherwise I do not need one.
Who wants an advocate to plead his cause in a court of law if there is
no suit against him? Sin is a charge against me. I am a sinner. I have
an Advocate. I have today a Brother in Christ. "Go, tell my Brothers
and Sisters," said He. And yet they had all forsaken Him, and therefore
were all sinners–but He was their Brother still. I have a Husband in
Christ too, though I sin. "Israel has forsaken Me," says God, "and
played the harlot. She has gone whoring from Me, but return, return,
for I am married unto you." She is His wife still, you see, though she
had gone into adultery.
The Christian, even when he has stained and fouled himself, is the
spouse of Christ still for all that. We are members of His Body, and if
so, the members cannot be removed or taken off and on–limbs are not so
easily removed. Did not Christ wash Peter? Peter was a member of
Christ's own Body, and yet Peter wanted washing. O blessed picture, the
Head washing the feet. So at this day, stained though we are, we are
claimants of Christ as Head of our body. And, Beloved, we know that
notwithstanding all our sin we are perfectly justified in Christ, for
He justifies the ungodly. We know, too, that we are perfectly accepted,
for we are accepted in the Beloved, and not in ourselves.
Notwithstanding all our iniquities we are pardoned, for the fountain is
opened for sin and for all uncleanness–not for righteousness and
purity–but for sin and for uncleanness. Therefore we conclude that all
our sins do not deprive us of that which Christ is to us, namely, the
Fountain of Life and light and purity and safety. Oh, my Brothers and
Sisters, if our first title to Christ had depended on our good works,
then it would fall when our works grew bad, but He loved us when we
were as bad as we could be–
"He saw us ruined in the Fall, Yet loved us notwithstanding all."
He chose us when we were sinners. He bought us when we were sinners. He
loved us when we were dead in trespasses and sins. And if we are as bad
as that today, He loves us still.
If our right to Heaven rested on the Covenant of Works, that unstable
tenure, it would soon fail us. But seeing it rests on the Covenant of
Grace, which has no conditions in it, but which is of pure Immutable
Grace from first to last, therefore be it known unto you, O sons of
God, that notwithstanding all your faults and failings, wanderings and
back-slidings, He is your God and you are His children. He will be your
God to all eternity and you shall be His children world without end.
"What a bold thing to say!" says one. Yes, and did I not tell you that
I meant to say it to the little children, that they sin not?
I believe that the bold open statement of the fact that all the sin
that a Believer can commit cannot mar his interest in Christ, though it
may mar his enjoyment of that interest for the present. Believing, I
say, that this doctrine, instead of driving men to sin, will draw them
to love that gracious and immutable God, who notwithstanding all our
sins and cares and woe, will never suffer us to perish.
III. Now let us change the note a little. Our third point is THAT THE
ADVOCATE IS PROVIDED ON PURPOSE TO MEET THE FACT THAT WE ARE STILL
SINNERS.
If I am a sinner, then there is a court. And there is one who sits as
Judge–the Father. There is a charge against me, otherwise I should not
want an Advocate to meet it–and this implies that I have sinned. There
is an adversary to press his suit against me, and he would hardly
venture to do this if there were no sin. There must be a right of reply
on my part. I must have the right to put in a disclaimer in court, and
to stand up and plead before the bar of justice. He who has a right to
plead in court is the man who is accused–the man who has some offense.
If I were neither accused nor had been a sinner, then I should have no
right to occupy the time of the court. But being a sinner, and being
brought up upon that charge and having one who presses the charge
against me, I have a right to reply and that reply, through God's good
Grace, I have a right to make through my Advocate.
Let us say, concerning our Advocate, that He is ordained with a special
view to sinners. All His names and attributes prove Him to be a
suitable Advocate for such. You and I, who though saved, are still
sinners, may safely put our case into His hands, for look who He
is–"Jesus Christ the righteous." "Jesus." Ah, then He is an Advocate
such as I want, for He loves me and takes an interest in me. Jesus is
the name of one who became Man for my sake. He knows what sore
temptations mean, He understands what trials mean, what afflictions
mean. I am glad I have One who will be interested in my welfare, and
will plead for me as a Friend for a friend, and as a Brother for a
brother.
I thank God, that though I sin, I still have Jesus who is my, "Brother
born for adversity," the Friend of sinners, and will, therefore, plead
the sinner's part. Is His name Jesus? Then He is sure to succeed,
because, "they shall call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people
from their sins." His very name implies His success. Is His name Jesus?
Then if He does not succeed in my case, His honor is compromised. He is
called Jesus because He does save sinners–if He does not save me–He
is not Jesus. If I, a sinner, trusting in Him, give Him my cause to
plead as my Advocate, and I am tried, and the verdict is against me, He
is not Jesus. He may lay down His claim to be Jesus, for He does not,
and cannot save His people from their sins.
Beloved Friends, do you not see how the saint is regarded as a sinner
because He who is his Advocate is the appointed Savior of sinners? He
is put down as their Advocate, I say, because He is the sinner's
Friend. I never heard of His pleading for the righteous. I never
dreamed of His being the Friend of the sinless. I find Him always on
the side of publicans and sinners–offenders, and those who have gone
out of the way. And therefore I conclude, that sinner though I am,
continually sinning as I am, I may leave my case with Jesus, for He is
just the advocate the sinner wants.
Notice, next, it is "Jesus Christ"–Christos–the Anointed. This shows
His authority to plead. There are only certain gentlemen who can plead
in the Court of Chancery. And only certain others that can enter the
Common Pleas, or the King's Bench. Jesus Christ has a right to plead,
for He is the Father's own Appointed, the Father's own Anointed. My
Soul, you have a good Pleader, One whom God Himself has chosen to plead
the sinner's cause. If he were of your choosing, he might fail. But if
God has laid help upon One that is mighty, feel safe to put your
trouble where God has laid His help. He is Christ, and therefore
authorized.
But I add, He is Christ and therefore qualified, for the anointing has
also qualified Him for His work. He can plead better than Jacob pleaded
when he spoke for Benjamin. He can plead so as to move the heart of God
and prevail. What words of tenderness, what sentences of persuasion
will He use when He stands up to plead for me! But more, He is
Christ–that is, He is God's Messiah. Therefore God would not send Him
unless He guaranteed Him. If God should send into this world a Savior
who could not save, then God would have no mercy. God's appointing and
sending Christ is a guarantee of Christ's success. Oh, my Soul, you
have One well fitted to be your Advocate and One that cannot but
succeed! Leave yourself entirely in His hands.
Notice next, it is "Jesus Christ the righteous." This is not only His
Character, but it is His plea. It is His Character, and if my Advocate
is righteous, then I am sure He would not take up a bad cause. I do not
know, it may be right for a lawyer to plead for a villain when he knows
him to be a villain. But this I think, the greater villain the lawyer
is the better qualified would he be to do it. But my Lord and Master,
the great Advocate, would not plead a bad cause, for He is Jesus Christ
the righteous. Therefore if I sin, if I am put down among the many men
that sin–if He pleads for me, my case must be good–for He would not
take up a bad one.
But how can He do this? Why, because He meets the charge of
unrighteousness against me by this plea on His part– that He is
righteous. He seems to say to the great Father in the day when the
sinner stands arraigned–"Yes, my Father, that sinner was unrighteous,
but remember that I was accepted as His Substitute. I stood to keep the
Law for him, and gave My active obedience. I went up to the Cross and
bled, and so gave My passive obedience. I have covered him from head to
foot with My doing and My dying. I have so arrayed him that not even
the angels are adorned as he is, for though they may be clothed with
the perfect righteousness of a creature, I have given him the
righteousness of God Himself. I am become unto My people the Lord their
righteousness.
"Look, I have taken the jewels out of My crown to bedeck them. I have
taken the garments from My own back to cover them, and the blood from
My own veins to make the dye in which I have dipped their garments,
till they are purpled with imperial glory." What can there be asked
more for the sinner than this? Jesus Christ the righteous stands up to
plead for me, and pleads His righteousness. And mark, He does this not
if I do not sin, but if I do sin. There is the beauty of my text. It
does not say, "If any man does not sin we have an Advocate." But, "if
any man sins we have an Advocate." So that when I have sinned and come
creeping up to my closet with a guilty conscience and an aching heart,
and feel that I am not worthy to be called God's son, I still have an
Advocate, because I am one of the many men that sin. I sin and I have
an Advocate.
Oh, I know not how to express the joy I feel in my soul to be able to
put it so! It is not, "If any man is righteous, we have an Advocate."
It is not, "If any man is prayerful, and careful, and godly, and walks
rightly and in the light," and so on, but, "If any man SINS we have an
Advocate." Oh, my Soul, there is the music of God's heart in those
words! Music such as the prodigal heard at the festival which welcomed
his return. "If any man sins we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous."
IV. And now we turn to our fourth point which is that THIS TRUTH, SO
EVANGELICAL AND SO DIVINE,
SHOULD BE PRACTICALLY REMEMBERED. It should be practically remembered,
dear Friends, at all times. Every day I find it most healthy to my own
soul to try and walk as a saint, but in order to do so, I must
continually come to Christ as a sinner. I would seek to be perfect. I
would strain after every virtue, and forsake every false way. But
still, as to my standing before God, I find it happiest to sit where I
sat when first I looked to Jesus, on the rock of His works, having
nothing to do with my own righteousness, but only with His.
Depend on it, dear Friends, the happiest way of living is to live as a
poor sinner, and as nothing at all–having Jesus Christ as All in All.
You may have all your growths in sanctification, all your progress in
graces, all the development of your virtues that you will. But still I
do earnestly pray you never to put any of these where Christ should be.
If you have begun in Christ, then finish in Christ. If you have begun
in the flesh, and then go on in the flesh, we know what the sure result
will be. But if you have begun with Jesus Christ as your Alpha, let Him
be your Omega. I pray you never think you are rising when you get above
this, for it is not rising, but slipping downwards to your ruin. Stand
still to this–
"Nothing in my hands I bring, Simply to Your Cross I cling.
Still a sinner. But still having an Advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ, the righteous–let this be the spirit of your everyday life.
Make this essentially the rule of your life on particular occasions.
Here let me say a word that may at once comfort and enlighten some here
who are in darkness. When the Spirit of God gives you a clearer view of
your own depravity, mind that you hold to this–"If any man sins we
have an Advocate with the Father." Perhaps when you were first
converted you did not suspect the depth of wickedness that lay in your
heart. Perhaps you did not believe that you could be so unutterably bad
as you really were. But lately the fountains of the great deep have
been broken up and you have been horrified. You are almost driven mad,
or else into despondency and despair by this discovery of your innate
corruption, until you fly to this–"Sinner as I am and never more
consciously so than I am now that God's Spirit has enlightened me, I
yet know that if any man sins we have an Advocate with the Father and
I, black, foul and filthy–more foul and filthy than I ever thought
myself to be– put my case into the hands of my Advocate and leave it
there forever."
When after this you have fallen into sin, and oh, I may address some
member of this Church who has done this though the pastor knows it
not–you have fallen into some sin that pricks your conscience. You
carry about with you a something that will not let you sleep at night.
There is a sin that disturbs you, and you wish you could forget that
you had committed it. You have gone before God as David did. You have
used the language of the fifty-first Psalm, but you cannot get rid of
that sin. You believe you are a child of God sometimes, but that sin
has got into your conscience and, like a cancer, is eating into your
comfort.
My Brother, now is your time–"If any man sins, we have an Advocate
with the Father." Jesus Christ is of no use to you if He will only save
you when you have no sin. Let me repeat it–now you are a sinner. Now
you are condemned by the verdict of your own conscience. Now you have
sinned, sinned willfully and foully–and God forbid that I should
extenuate your sin. Yet, let your sin be as gross, and black, and
hellish as it may be, if you believe in Jesus Christ you have an
Advocate with the Father. And through that Advocate your cause shall
rest and your sin shall be put away.
Perhaps you will tell me that your sin has had some gross aggravation
about it. If you are a Christian it has, for a Christian always sins
worse than other men. If the sin is not in itself so bad as other
men's, it is worse in you. For a king's favorite to play the traitor is
villainy, indeed. For one that has been highly favored, as you have
been, with visits of love from Jesus–to be false to Him–oh, this is
shame, double shame to Him! For you who have been washed in His blood
to crucify Him afresh, what shall I say to that? You deserve the
hottest wrath of God and the deepest Hell. But thus says the Lord unto
you–I have blotted out your sins like a cloud, and like a thick cloud
your iniquities. Return unto Me." "If any man sins, we have an Advocate
with the Father."
It does not say, "If some men sin we have no advocate." Or, "If some
men sin in an aggravated way." No, it is not put so. It says, "If any
man sins, we have an Advocate with the Father." So that though you have
heaped aggravations one upon another, and your crime has been as foul
as any that could have been committed, still you can say, "we have an
Advocate." Fly with a humble, contrite heart, and throw yourself at the
feet of that Advocate, and by His blood, and by His wounds He will
plead for you, and you shall prevail.
What if I add to all this that you have so sinned as to bring a scandal
upon the name of God, upon His Church, and upon His cause? Oh, my
Brothers and Sisters, you may well weep in secret. You may weep tears
of blood for having done this. But still, for all that, I cannot shut
the gate where God sets it wide open. I have not a thunderbolt for you.
If you are a child of God, mercy is still free, and still it is
preached to you–"If any man sins," publicly, like David, so as to make
God's enemies to blaspheme, yet still, "we have an Advocate with the
Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." Oh, what splendid mercy is this!
Archangel never dreamed of such mercy as this to sinners, to real
sinners, to hugely vile sinners, to black, hellish sinners, to devilish
sinners, to such as no adjective can be found to describe them! Yet, if
they believe in Jesus, sin as they may, they still have, "an Advocate
with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous."
I wish I could meet the case of that Brother yonder, who has long given
up all hope of ever being restored. He has been excommunicated. He has
been driven away from the society of the godly. He thinks, though he is
in this house this morning, he has no business here. And sometimes the
devil has tempted him to make away with himself, and he has said, if I
must be lost I may as well be lost at once. Ah, but, my Brother, you
dare not do it with such a text of Scripture as this before your eyes!
The Lord loves you still, and if He ever loved you, all your sin cannot
wean His heart from you. You may have gone to the utmost length of your
tether, but He has so tied you that you can never go beyond it! You may
have gotten to the very extremity and edge of the precipice, but over
that edge you must not, and you shall not go!
This day He sends me to stop you. Return! Return! Return! A Father bids
you return! You are feeding swine today, and all foul and filthy as you
are, you would desire fill your belly with their husks. But you
cannot–you have a hunger that husks can never satisfy. Your Father
waits to receive you. Come, He will meet you. He will fall upon your
neck and kiss you. He will set you at His own table and there shall be
music and dancing for you. The best robe awaits you, Prodigal! The
fatted calf is killed for you! Come! O believe it! Believe that God is
able to do this great thing for you. "As high as the heavens are above
the earth, so high are His thoughts above your thoughts, and His ways
above your ways."–
"What though your numerous sins exceed
The stars that fill the skies,
And, aiming at the Eternal Throne,
Like pointed mountains rise," yet still the red sea of Jesus' blood
shall cover the tops of the mountains of your sins, till, like Noah's
ark, that floated twenty cubits upwards, the tops of the mountains
shall be covered. "If any man sins"–here, you see, there is nothing
said about goodness, nothing about virtue, or tenderness of heart–it
is only put, "If any man sins, we have an Advocate."
O you that believe in Jesus, pray for those who believe not, that they,
too, may have an Advocate. If you and I have come and put our trust in
Him, and found a shelter in His wounds, let us never be satisfied till
we see our children, our brothers, our sisters, our friends, our
kinsfolk brought to this Advocate. Go and tell it wherever your voices
can be heard, that Jesus Christ receives SINNERS, and that He eats with
them. Go and say that He is the sinner's Friend, and that He is willing
to take them as they are and wash them and make them whiter than snow.
Since you have proved it yourself, and need to prove it every day, try
and bring others to the conviction of it, that they, with you, may sing
to the praise of that Divine love which has given the Advocate to every
Believer, whatever his guilt and condemnation may have been. The Lord
bless you now, for Jesus' sake. Amen.