A Lecture for Little-Faith

A Lecture for Little-Faith

A Sermon

(No. 205)

Delivered on Sabbath Morning, July 18, 1858, by the

REV. C.H. SPURGEON

at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens

"We are bound to thank God always for you, brethren, as it is meet,
because that your faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity of
everyone of you all toward each other aboundeth"–2 Thessalonians 1:3.

WE ARE BOUND to thank God always for you, brethren, as it is meet."
Whether we shall praise God or not, is not left to our opinion Although
the commandment saith not, "Thou shalt praise the Lord," yet praise is
God's most righteous due, and every man, as a partaker of God's bounty,
and especially every Christian, is bound to praise God, as it is meet.
It is true we have no authoritative rubric for daily praise; we have no
commandment left on record specially prescribing certain hours of song
and thanksgiving; but still the law written upon the heart, teacheth us
with divine authority that it is right to praise God; and this
unwritten mandate hath as much power and authority about it, as if it
had been recorded on the tables of stone, or handed to us from the top
of thundering Sinai. The Christian's duty is to praise God. Think not
ye who are always mourning that ye are guiltless in that respect;
imagine not that ye can discharge your duty to your God without songs
of praise. It is your duty to praise him. You are bound by the bonds of
his love as long as you live to bless his name. It is meet and comely
that you should do so. It is not only a pleasurable exercise, but it is
the absolute duty of the Christian life to praise God. This is taught
us in the text,–"We are bound to thank God always for you, brethren,
as it is meet." Let not your harps then hang upon the willows, ye
mourning children of the Lord. It is your duty to strike them and bring
forth their loudest music. It is sinful if you to cease from praising
God; you are blessed in order that you may bless him; and if you do not
praise God you are not bringing forth the fruit, which he as the divine
husbandman, may well expect at your hands. Go forth then, ye sons of
God, and chant his praise. With every morning's dawn lift up your notes
of thanksgiving, and every evening let the setting sun be followed with
your song. Girdle the earth with your praises; surround it with an
atmosphere of melody, so shall God himself look down from heaven and
accept your praises as like in kind, though not equal in degree, to the
praises of cherubim and seraphim. It seems, however, that the apostle
Paul in this instance exercised praise not for himself but for others,
for the church at Thessalonica. If any of you should in ignorance ask
the question why it was that Paul should take so deep an interest in
the salvation of these saints, and in their growth in faith, I would
remind you, that this is a secret known only to the men who have
brought forth and nourished children, and therefore love them. The
apostle Paul had founded the church at Thessalonica, most of these
people were his spiritual offspring, by the words of his mouth,
attended by the power of the Spirit, they had been brought out of
darkness into marvellous light; and they who have had spiritual
children who have brought many sons unto God, can tell you that there
is an interest felt by a spiritual father, that is not to be equalled
even by the tender affection of a mother towards her babe. "Ay," said
the apostle, "I have been tender over you as a nursing father," and in
another place he says he had "travailed in birth," for their souls.
This is a secret not known to the hireling minister. Only he whom God
hath himself ordained and thrust forth into the work, only he who has
had his tongue touched with a live coal from off the altar, can tell
you what it is to agonize for men's souls before they are converted,
and what it is to rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory, when
the travail of their souls is seen in the salvation of God's elect.

And now, beloved, having thus given you two thoughts which seemed to me
to arise naturally from the text, I shall repair at once to the object
of this morning's discourse. The apostle thanks God that the faith of
the Thessalonians had grown exceedingly. Leaving out the rest of the
text, I shall direct your attention this morning to the subject of
growth in faith. Faith hath degrees.

In the first place, I shall endeavor to notice the inconveniences of
little faith; secondly, the means of promoting its growth; and thirdly,
a certain high attainment, unto which faith will assuredly grow, if we
diligently water and cultivate it.

I. In the first place, THE INCONVENIENCES OF LITTLE FAITH. When faith
first commences in the soul, it is like a grain of mustard seed of
which the Saviour said it was the least of all seeds, but as God the
Holy Spirit is pleased to bedew it with the sacred moisture of his
grace, it germinates and grows and begins to spread, until at last it
becomes a great tree. To use another figure: when faith commences in
the soul it is simply looking unto Jesus, and perhaps even then there
are so many clouds of doubts and so much dimness of the eye, that we
have need for the light of the Spirit to shine upon the cross before we
are able even so much as to see it. When faith grows a little, it rises
from looking to Christ to coming to Christ. He who stood afar off and
looked to the cross by-and-bye plucks up courage, and getting heart to
himself, he runneth up to the cross. or perhaps he doth not run. but
hath to be drawn before he can so much as creep thither, and even then
it is with a limping gait that he draweth nigh to Christ the Saviour.
But that done, faith goeth a little farther: it layeth hold on Christ;
it begins to see him in his excellency, and appropriates him in some
degree, conceives him to be a real Christ and a real Saviour, and is
convinced of his suitability. And when it hath done as much as that, it
goeth further; it leaneth on Christ. it leaneth on its Beloved; casteth
all the burden of its cares, sorrows, and griefs upon that blessed
shoulder, and permitteth all its sins to he swallowed up in the great
red sea of the Saviour's blood. And faith can then go further still;
for having seen and ran towards him and laid hold upon him, and having
leaned upon him, faith in the next place puts in a humble, but a sure
and certain claim to all that Christ is and all that he has wrought;
and then, trusting alone in this, appropriating all this to itself,
faith mounteth to full assurance; and out of heaven there is no state
more rapturous and blessed. But, as I have observed at the beginning,
faith is but very small, and there are some Christians who never get
out of little faith all the while they are here. You notice in John
Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," how many Little-faith's he mentions
There is our old friend Ready-to-halt, who went all the way to the
celestial city on crutches but left them when he went into the river
Jordan. Then there is little Feeblemind, who carried his feeble mind
with him all the way to the banks of the river and then left it, and
ordered it to be buried in a dunghill that none might inherit it. Then
there is Mr. Fearing, too, who used to stumble over a straw, and was
always frightened if he saw a drop of rain, because he thought the
floods of heaven were let loose upon him. And you remember Mr.
Despondency and Miss Much-afraid, who were so long locked up in the
dungeon of Giant Despair, that they were almost starved to death, and
there was little left of them but skin and bone; and poor Mr.
Feeble-mind, who had been taken into the cave of Giant Slay-good who
was about to eat him, when Great-heart came to his deliverance. John
Bunyan was a very wise man He has put a great many of those characters
in his book, because there are a great many of them. He has not left us
with one Mr. Ready-to-halt, but he has given us seven or eight graphic
characters because he himself in his own time has been one of them, and
he had known many others who had walked in the same path. I doubt not I
have a very large congregation this morning of this very class of
persons. Now let me notice the inconveniences of little faith.

The first inconvenience of little faith is that while it is always sure
of heaven it very seldom thinks so. Little-faith is quite as sure of
heaven as Great-faith. When Jesus Christ counts up his jewels at the
last day he will take to himself the little pearls as well as the great
ones. If a diamond be never so small yet it is precious because it is a
diamond. So will faith, be it never so little, if it be true faith,
Christ will never lose even the smallest jewel of his crown.
Little-faith is always sure of heaven, because the name of Little-faith
is in the book of eternal life. Little-faith was chosen of God before
the foundation of the world. Little-faith was bought with the blood of
Christ; ay, and he cost as much as Great-faith. "For every man a
shekel" was of redemption. Every man, whether great or small, prince or
peasant, had to redeem himself with a shekel. Christ has bought all,
both little and great, with the same most precious blood. Little-faith
is always sure of heaven, for God has begun the good work in him and he
will carry it on. God loves him and he will love him unto the end. God
has provided a crown for him, and he will not allow the crown to hang
there without a head; he has erected for him a mansion in heaven, and
he will not allow the mansion to stand untenanted for ever.
Little-faith is always safe, but he very seldom knows it. If you meet
him he is sometimes afraid of hell; very often afraid that the wrath of
God abideth on him. He will tell you that the country on the other side
the flood can never belong to a worm so base as he. Sometimes it is
because he feels himself so unworthy, another time it is because the
things of God are too good to be true, he says, or he cannot think they
can be true to such an one as he is. Sometimes he is afraid he is not
elect; another time he fears that he has not been called aright. that
he has not come to Christ aright. Another time his fears are that he
will not hold on to the end, that he shall not be able to persevere,
and if you kill a thousand of his fears he is sure to have another host
by to-morrow; for unbelief is one of those things that you cannot
destroy. "It hath," saith Bunyan, "as many lives as a cat;" you may
kill it over and over again, but still it lives. It is one of those ill
weeds that sleep in the soil even after it has been burned, and it only
needs a little encouragement to grow again. Now Great-faith is sure of
heaven, and he knows it. He climbs Pisgah's top, and views the
landscape o'er; he drinks in the mysteries of paradise even before he
enters within the pearly gates. He sees the streets that are paved with
gold; he beholds the walls of the city, the foundations whereof are of
precious stones; he hears the mystic music of the glorified, and begins
to smell on earth the perfumes of heaven. But poor Little-faith can
scarcely look at the sun; he very seldom sees the light. he gropes in
the valley, and while all is safe he always thinks himself unsafe. That
is one of the disadvantages of Little-faith.

Another disadvantage is that Little-faith, while always having grace
enough (for that is Little-faith's promise, "My grace shall be
sufficient for thee") yet never thinks he has grace enough. He will
have quite enough grace to carry him to heaven; and Great-heart won't
have any more. The greatest saint, when he entered heaven, found that
he went in with an empty wallet: he had eaten his last crust of bread
when he got there. The manna ceased when the children of Israel entered
into Canaan. they had none to carry with them there: they began to eat
the corn of the land when the manna of the wilderness had ceased But
Little-faith is always afraid that he has not grace enough. You see him
in trouble. "Oh!" says he, "I shall never be able to hold my head above
water." Blessed be God he never can sink. If you see him in prosperity,
he is afraid he shall be intoxicated with pride; that he shall turn
aside like Balaam. If you meet him attacked by an enemy, he is scarcely
able to say three words for himself; and he lets the enemy exact upon
him. If you find him fighting the battle of the Lord Jesus Christ he
holds his sword tight enough, good man, but he has not much strength in
his arm to bring his sword down with might. He can do but little, for
he is afraid that God's grace will not be sufficient for him.
Great-faith, on the other hand, can shake the world. What cares he
about trouble, trial, or duty?

He that helped him bears him through,

And makes him more than conqueror too."

He would face an army single-handed, if God commanded him; and "with
the jaw-bone of an ass, he would slay heaps upon heaps, and thousands
of men." There is no fear of his lacking strength. He can do all
things, or can bear all sufferings, for his Lord is there. Come what
may, his arm is always sufficient for him; he treads down his enemy,
and his cry every day is like the shout of Deborah, "Oh my soul, thou
hast trodden down strength." Little-faith treads down strength too, but
he does not know it. He kills his enemies, but has not eye-sight enough
to see the slain. He often hits so hard that his foemen retreat, but he
thinks they are there still. He conjures up a thousand phantoms, and
when he has routed his real enemies he makes others, and trembles at
the phantoms which he has himself made. Little-faith will assuredly
find that his garments will not wax old, that his shoes shall be iron
and brass, and that as his day is so shall his strength be; but all the
way he will be murmuring, because he thinks his garments will grow old,
that his feet will be blistered and sore; and he is terrified lest the
day should be too heavy for him and that the evil of the day shall more
than counterbalance his grace. Ay, it is an inconvenient thing to have
little faith, for little faith perverts everything into sorrow and
grief.

Again, there is a sad inconvenience about Little-faith, namely, that if
Little-faith be sorely tempted to sin, he is apt to fall. Strong-faith
can well contest with the enemy. Satan comes along, and says, "All
these things will I give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship me."
"Nay," we say, "thou canst not give us all these things, for they are
ours already." "Nay," says he, "but ye are poor, naked and miserable."
"Ay," say we to him, "but still these things are ours, and it is good
for us to be poor, good for us to be without earthly goods, or else our
Father would give them to us." "Oh," says Satan, "you deceive
yourselves; you have no portion in these things; but if you will serve
me, then I will make you rich and happy here." Strong-faith says,
"Serve thee, thou fiend! Avaunt! Dost thou offer me silver?–behold God
giveth me gold. Dost thou say to me, "I will give thee this if thou
disobey?–fool that thou art! I have a thousand times as great wages
for my obedience as thou canst offer for my disobedience." But when
Satan meets Little-faith, he says to him, "If thou be the Son of God
cast thyself down;" and poor Little faith is so afraid that he is not a
son of God that he is very apt to cast himself down upon the
supposition. "There," says Satan, "I will give thee all this if thou
wilt disobey." Little-faith says, "I am not quite sure that I am a
child of God, that I have a portion among them that are sanctified;"
and he is very apt to fall into sin by reason of the littleness of his
faith. Yet at the same time I must observe that I have seen some
Little-faiths who are far less apt to fall into sin than others. They
have been so cautious that they dared not put one foot before the
other, because they were afraid they should put it awry: they scarcely
even dared to open their lips, but they prayed, "O Lord, open thou my
lips;" afraid that they should let a wrong word out, if they were to
speak; always alarmed lest they should be falling into sin
unconsciously, having a very tender conscience. Well, I like people of
this sort. I have sometimes thought that Little-faith holds tighter by
Christ than any other. For a man who is very near drowning is sure to
clutch the plank all the tighter with the grasp of a drowning man,
which tightens and becomes more clenched the more his hope is
decreased. Well, beloved, Little-faith may be kept from falling, but
this is the fruit of tender conscience and not of little faith. Careful
walking is not the result of little faith; it may go with it, and so
may keep Little-faith from perishing, but little faith is in itself a
dangerous thing, laying us open to innumerable temptations, and taking
away very much of our strength to resist them. "The joy of the Lord is
your strength;" and if that joy ceases you become weak and very apt to
turn aside. Beloved, you who are Little-faiths, I tell you it is
inconvenient for you always to remain so; for you have many nights and
few days. Your years are like Norwegian years–very long winters and
very short summers. You have many howlings, but very little of
shouting; you are often playing upon the pipe of mourning, but very
seldom sounding the trump of exultation. I would to God you could
change your notes a little. Why should the children of a King go
mourning all their days? It is not the Lord's will that you should be
always sorrowful. "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say
rejoice." Oh, ye that have been fasting, anoint your heads and wash
your faces, that ye appear not unto men to fast. Oh, ye that are sad in
heart, "Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright
in heart." Therefore rejoice for ye shall praise him. Say unto
yourselves, "Why art thou cast down, Oh, soul and why art thou
disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who
is the light of my countenance and my God."

II. Having thus noticed the inconveniences and disadvantages of little
faith, let me give you A FEW RULES WITH REGARD TO THE WAY OF
STRENGTHENING IT. If you would have your little faith grow into great
faith, you must feed it well. Faith is a feeding grace. It does not ask
you to give it the things that are seen, but it does ask you to give it
the promise of the things that are not seen, which are eternal. Thou
tellest me thou hast little faith. I ask thee whether thou art given to
the meditation of God's Word, whether thou hast studied the promises
whether thou art wont to carry one of those sacred things about with
thee every day? Dost thou reply, "No?" Then, I tell thee, I do not
wonder at thine unbelief He who deals largely with the promises, will,
under grace, very soon find that there is great room for believing
them. Get a promise, beloved, every day, and take it with you wherever
you go; mark it, learn it, and inwardly digest it. Don't do as some men
do–who think it a Christian duty to read a chapter every morning, and
they read one as long as your arm without understanding it at all; but
take out some choice text and pray the Lord during the day to break it
up to your mind. Do as Luther says: "When I get hold of a promise,"
says he, "I look upon it as I would a fruit tree. I think–there hang
the fruits above my head, and if I would get them I must shake the tree
to and fro." So I take a promise and meditate upon it; I shake it to
and fro, and sometimes the mellow fruit fans into my hand, at other
times the fruit is less ready to fall, but I never leave off till I get
it. I shake, shake all the day long; I turn the text over and over
again, and at last the pomegranate droppeth down, and my soul is
comforted with apples, for it was sick of love. Do that, Christian.
Deal much with the promises; have much commerce with these powders of
the merchant: there is a rich perfume in every promise of God; taken;
it is an alabaster box, break it by meditation, and the sweet scent of
faith shall be shed abroad in your house.

Again, prove the promise, and in that way you will get your faith
strengthened. When you are at any time placed in distress, take a
promise and see whether it is true. Suppose you are very near lacking
bread; take this promise, "Thy bread shall be given thee, thy water
shall be sure." Rise up in the morning when nothing is in the cupboard,
and say, "I will see whether God will keep this promise;" and if he
does, do not forget it; set it down in your book; make a mark in your
Bible against it. Do as the old woman did, who put T and P against the
promise, and told her minister that it means "tried and proved;" so
that when she was again in distress, she could not help believing. Have
you been exercised by Satan? There is a promise that says, "Resist the
devil, and he will flee from you." Take that and prove it, and when you
have proved it, make a mark against it, and say, "This I know is true,
for I have proved it to be so." There is nothing in the world that can
confirm faith like proof. "What I want," said one, "is facts." And so
it is with the Christian. What he wants is a fact to make him believe.
The older you grow the stronger your faith ought to become, for you
have so many more facts with which to buttress your faith, and compel
you to believe in God. Only think of a man who has come to be seventy
years of age what a pile of evidence could he accumulate if he kept a
note of all God's providential goodness and all his lovingkindness. You
do not wonder when you hear a man, the hairs of whose head are white
with the sunlight of heaven, get up and say, "These fifty years have I
served God, and he has never forsaken me I can bear willing testimony
to his faithfulness, not one good thing hath failed of all that the
Lord hath promised, all hath come to pass." Now we, who are young
beginners, must not expect that our faith will be so strong as it will
be in years to come. Every instance of God's love should make us
believe him more; and as each promise passes by, and we can see the
fulfillment of it at the heels thereof, we must be compelled and
constrained to say, that God has kept so many of these promises and
will keep them unto the end. But the worst of it is that we forget them
all, and so we begin to have grey hairs sprinkled on our heads, and we
have no more faith than when we began, because we have forgotten God's
repeated answers, and though he has fulfilled the promise we have
suffered it to lie buried in forgetfulness.

Another plan I would recommend for the strengthening of your faith,
though not so excellent as the last, is to associate yourselves with
Godly and much-tried men. It is astonishing how young believers will
get their faith refreshed by talking with old and advanced Christians.
Perhaps you are in great doubt and distress. you run off to an old
brother, and you say, "Oh my dear friend, I am afraid I am not a child
of God at all, I am in such deep distress, I have had blasphemous
thoughts cast into my heart; if I were a child of God I should never
feel like that." The old man smiles, and says, "Ah! you have not gone
very far on the road to heaven, or else you would know better. Why I am
the subject of these thoughts very often. Old as I am, and though I
hope I have enjoyed the full assurance for a long time, yet there are
seasons when if I could have heaven for a grain of faith, I could not
think heaven was mine, for I could not find so much as a grain in me,
though it is there." And he will tell you what dangers he has passed,
and of the sovereign love that kept him; of the temptations that
threatened to ensnare him, and of the wisdom that guided his feet; and
he will tell you of his own weakness and God's omnipotence; of his own
emptiness, and God's fullness; of his own changeableness, and God's
immutability, and if after talking with such a man you don't believe
surely you are sinful indeed; for "out of the mouth of two witnesses,
the whole shall be established," but when there are many such who can
bear testimony to God, it would be foul sin indeed if we were to doubt
him.

Another way whereby you may obtain increase of faith is to labor to get
as much as possible free from self. I have striven with all my might to
attain the position of perfect indifference of all men. I have found at
times, if I have been much praised in company, and if my heart has
given way a little, and I have taken notice of it, and felt pleased,
that the very next time I was censured and abused. I felt the censure
and abuse very keenly, for the very fact that I took the praise
rendered me liable to lay hold upon the censure. So that I have always
tried, especially of late, to take no more notice of man's praise than
of his censure, but to fix my heart simply upon this–I know that I
have a right motive in what I attempt to do, I am conscious that I
endeavor to serve God with a single eye to his glory, and therefore it
is not for me to take praise from man nor censure, but to stand
independently upon the one rock of right doing. Now the same thing will
apply to you. Perhaps you find yourself full of virtue and grace one
day, and the devil flatters you: "Ah! you are a bright Christian; you
might join the church now, you would be quite an honor to it; see how
well you are prospering." And unconsciously to yourself you believe the
sound of that syren music, and you half believe that really you are
growing rich in grace. Well, the next day you find yourself very low
indeed in godly matters. Perhaps you fall into some sin, and now the
devil says, "Ah! now you are no child of God; look at your sins."
Beloved, the only way in which you can maintain your faith is to live
above the praise of self and the censure of self; to live simply upon
the blood and merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who can say in the
midst of all his virtues, "These are but dross and dung; my hope is
fixed on nothing less than Jesus Christ's finished sacrifice"–such a
man, when sins prevail, will find his faith remain constant, for he
will say "I once was full of virtue and then I did not trust in myself,
and now I have none still do I trust in my Saviour, for change as I
may, he changeth not. If I had to depend on myself in the least degree
then it would be up and down, up and down, but since I rely on what
Christ has done, since he is the unbuttressed pillar of my hope, then
come what may my soul doth rest secure, confident in faith. Faith will
never be weak if self be weak, but when self is strong, faith cannot be
strong, for self is very much like what the gardener calls the sucker
at the bottom of the tree, which never bears fruit but only sucks away
the nourishment from the tree itself. Now, self is that sucker which
sucks away the nourishment from faith, and you must cut it up or else
your faith will always be little faith, and you will have difficulty in
maintaining any comfort in your soul.

But, perhaps, the only way in which most men get their faith increased
is by great trouble. We don't grow strong in faith on sunshiny days. It
is only in strong weather that a man gets faith. Faith is not an
attainment that droppeth like the gentle dew from heaven; it generally
comes in the whirlwind and the storm. Look at the old oaks: how is it
that they have become so deeply rooted in the earth? Ask the March
winds and they will tell you. It was not the April shower that did it,
or the sweet May sunshine, but it was March's rough wind, the
blustering month of old Boreas shaking the tree to and fro and causing
its roots to bind themselves around the rocks. So must it be with us.
We don't make great soldiers in the barracks at home; they must be made
amidst flying shot and thundering cannon. We cannot expect to make good
sailors on the Serpentine; they must be made far away on the deep sea,
where the wild winds howl, and the thunders roll like drums in the
march of the God of armies. Storms and tempests are the things that
make men tough and hardy mariners. They see the works of the Lord and
his wonders in the deep. So with Christians. Great-faith must have
great trials. Mr. Great-heart would never have been Mr. Great-heart if
he had not once been Mr. Great-trouble. Valiant-for-truth would never
have put to fight those foes, and have been so valiant, if the foes had
not first attacked him. So with us: we must expect great troubles
before we shall attain to much faith.

Then he who would have great faith, must exercise what he has. I should
not like to-morrow to go and shoe horses, or to make horse shoes on an
anvil. I am sure my arm would ache in the first hour with lifting the
heavy hammer and banging it down so many times. Whatever the time might
be, I should not be able to keep time. The reason why the blacksmith's
arm does not tire is, because he is used to it. He has kept at it all
day long these many years, till there's an arm for you! He turns up his
sleeve and shows you the strong sinew that never tires, so strong has
it become by use. Do you want to get your faith strong? Use it. You
lazy lie-a-bed Christians, that go up to your churches and chapels, and
take your seats, and hear our sermons, and talk about getting good, but
never think about doing good; ye that are letting hell fill beneath
you, and yet are too idle to stretch out your hands to pluck brands
from the eternal burning; ye that see sin running down your streets,
yet can never put so much as your foot to turn or stem the current, I
wonder not that you have to complain of the littleness of your faith.
It ought to be little; you do but little. and why should God give you
more strength than you mean to use. Strong faith must always be an
exercised faith, and he that dares not exercise the faith he has shall
not have more "Take away from him the one talent and give it to him
that hath, because he did not put it out to usury." In Mr. Whitfield's
life, you do not often find him complaining of want of faith, or if he
did, it was when he only preached nine times a week; he never
complained when he preached sixteen times. Read Grimshaw's life: you do
not often find him troubled with despondency when he preached
twenty-four times in seven days; it was only when he was growing a
little idle and only preached twelve times. Keep always at it, and all
at it, and there is not much fear of your faith becoming weak. It is
with our faith as with boys in the winter time There they go round the
fire, rubbing and chafing their hands to keep the blood in circulation,
and almost fighting each other to see which shall sit on the fire and
get warm. At last the father comes, and says, "Boys, this won't do, you
will never get warm by these artificial means run out and do some
work." Then they all go out, and they come in again with a ruddy hue in
their cheeks their hands no longer tingles and they say, "Well, father,
we didn't think it half so warm as it is." So must it be with you: you
must set to work if you would have your faith grow strong and warm.
True, your works won't save you; but faith without works is dead,
frozen to death; but faith with works groweth to a red heat of fervency
and to the strength of stability. Go and teach in the Sunday school, or
go and catch seven or eight poor ragged children; go and visit the poor
old woman in her hovel; go and see some poor dying creatures in the
back streets of our great city, and you will say, "Dear me, how
wonderfully my faith is refreshed just by doing something." You have
been watering yourself whilst you were watering others.

Now my last advice shall be this–the best way to get your faith
strengthened is to have communion with Christ. If you commune with
Christ, you cannot be unbelieving. When his left hand is under my head,
and his right hand doth embrace me, I cannot doubt. When my Beloved
sits at his table, and he brings me into his banqueting house, and his
banner over me is his love, then indeed I do believe. When I feast with
him, my unbelief is abashed and hides its head. Speak, ye that have
been led in the green pastures, and have been made to lie down by the
still waters; ye who have seen his rod and his stay, and hope to see
them even when you walk through the valley of the shadow of death;
speak, ye that have sat at his feet with Mary, or laid your head upon
his bosom with the well-beloved John; have you not found when you have
been near to Christ your faith has grown strong, and when you have been
far away, then your faith has become weak? It is impossible to look
Christ in the face and then doubt him. When you cannot see him then you
doubt him; but if you live in fellowship with him, you are like the ewe
lambs of Nathan's parable, for you lie in his bosom, and eat from his
table, and drink from his cup. You must believe when your Beloved
speaks unto you, and says, "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come
away." There is no hesitation then; you must arise from the lowlands of
your doubt up to the hills of assurance.

III. And now, in conclusion, there is A CERTAIN HIGH ATTAINMENT TO
WHICH FAITH MAY, IF DILIGENTLY CULTIVATED, CERTAINLY ATTAIN. Can a
man's faith grow so strong that he will never afterwards doubt at all?
I reply, no. He who has the strongest faith will have sorrowful
intervals of despondency. I suppose there has scarcely ever been a
Christian who has not, at some time or other, had the most painful
doubts concerning his acceptance in the Beloved. All God's children
will have paroxysms of doubt even though they be usually strong in
faith. Again, may a man so cultivate his faith that he may be
infallibly sure that he is a child of God–so sure that he has made no
mistake–so sure that all the doubts and fears which may be thrust upon
him may not be able at that time to get an advantage over him? I
answer, yes, decidedly he may. A man may, in this life, be as sure of
his acceptance in the Beloved as he is of his own existence. Nay, he
not only may, but there are some of us who have enjoyed this precious
state and privilege for years; we do not mean for years together–our
peace has been interrupted, we have now and then been subjected to
doubts; but I have known some–I knew one especially, who said that for
thirty years he had enjoyed almost invariably a full sense of his
acceptance in Christ. "I have had," he said "very often a sense of sin,
but I have had with that a sense of the power of the blood of Christ; I
have now and then for a little time had great despondency, but still I
may say, taking it as a general rule, that for thirty years I have
enjoyed the fullest assurance of my acceptance in the Beloved." I trust
a large portion of God's people can say that for months and years they
have not had to sing,

"Tis a point I long to know."

But they can say, "I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded
that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him." I will try
to depict the state of the Christian, he may be as poor as poverty can
make him, but he is rich; he has no thought with regard to the morrow,
for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. He casts
himself upon the providence of God; he believes that he who clothes the
lilies, and feeds the ravens, will not allow his children to go
starving or barefooted. He has but little concern as to his temporal
estate; he folds his arms and floats down the stream of providence
singing all the way whether he float by mud bank, dark, dreary, and
noxious, or by palace fair and valley pleasant, he alters not his
position; he neither moves not struggles; he has no will nor wish which
way to swim, his only desire being to "lie passive in God's hand, and
know no will but his." When the storm flies over his head he finds
Christ to be a shelter from the tempest; when the heat is hot he finds
Christ to be the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. He just casts
his anchor down deep into the sea, and when the wind blows, he sleeps;
hurricanes may come about his ears, the masts creak, and every timber
seems to be strained and every nail to start from its place, but there
he sleeps. Christ is at the helm. he says, "My anchor is within the
vail, I know it will keep its hold." The earth shakes beneath his feet;
but he says, "Though the earth be removed and mountains be cast into
the sea, yet will not we fear, for God is our refuge and strength, and
a very present help in time of trouble." Ask him about his eternal
interests, and he tells you that his only confidence is in Christ, and
that die when he may, he knows he shall stand boldly at the last great
day clothed in his Saviour's righteousness. He speaks very confidently
though never boastingly; though he has no time to dance the giddy dance
of presumption, he stands firmly on the rock of confidence. Perhaps you
think he is proud–ah! he is a humble man; he lies low before the
cross, but not before you, he can look you boldly in the face, and tell
you that Christ is able to keep that which he has committed to him. He
knows that–

"His honor is engaged to save

The meanest of his sheep

All that his heavenly Father gave,

His hands securely keep."

And die when he may he can lay his head upon the pillow of the promise,
and breathe his life out on the Saviour's breast without a struggle or
a murmur, crying–"Victory," in the arms of death; challenging Death to
produce his sting, and demanding of the grave its victory. Such is the
effect of strong faith; I repeat, the weakest in the world, by diligent
cultivation may attain to it. Only seek the refreshing influence of the
Divine Spirit, and walk in Christ's commandments, and live near to him;
and ye that are dwarfs, like Zaccheus, shall become as giants; the
hyssop on the wall shall start up into the dignity of the cedar in
Lebanon, and ye that fly before your enemies shall yet be able to chase
a thousand, and two of you shall put ten thousand to flight. May the
Lord enable his poor little ones so to grow!

As for those of you who have no faith in Christ, let me remind you of
one sad thing–namely, that "without faith it is impossible to please
God." If thou hast not put thy trust in Christ, then God is angry with
thee every day. "If thou turn not he will whet his sword, for he hath
bent his bow and made it ready." I beseech thee, cast thyself on
Christ; he is worthy of thy trust; there is none other to trust to, he
is willing to receive thee; he invites thee; he shed his blood for
thee; he intercedes for thee. Believe on him, for thus his promise
runs, "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." Do both of
these things. Believe on him, and then profess thy faith in baptism;
and the Lord bless thee, and hold thee to the end, and make thee to
increase exceedingly in faith, to the glory of God. May the Lord add
his blessing!
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