A Monument for the Dead, and a Voice to the Living

A Monument for the Dead, and a Voice to the Living

(No. 1700)

Delivered on Lord's-Day Morning, January 7th, 1883, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

At the [2]Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington

"For Moses describeth the righteousness which is of the law, That the
man which doeth those things shall live by them. But the righteousness
which is of faith speaketh on this wise, Say not in thine heart, Who
shall ascend into heaven? (that is, to bring Christ down from above:)
Or, Who shall descend into the deep? (that is, to bring up Christ again
from the dead.) But what saith it? The word is nigh thee, even in thy
mouth, and in thy heart: that is, the word of faith, which we preach;
that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt
believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou
shalt be saved."— Romans 10:5-9.

YOU see by this mourning that our church has been bereaved. I have lost
a friend tender and true to me, and my heart is too full for utterance.
[1] I scarcely knew what to preach from this morning; but at last I
settled in my mind that I would raise a memorial to my departed friend
by preaching a sermon which should be connected with himself. Therefore
I cast about me, and I considered what subject he would wish me to
preach from if he were sitting behind me this morning as he was last
Lord's-day. I had no difficulty in answering that question. His life
and death pointed in one direction. He was a man of rare common sense,
straightforward and downright in his aims, and most pithy in his
speech, with such a mixture of mother-wit that he might have been taken
for John Ploughman's brother, as indeed he was. He cared nothing for
oratory, which I have heard him call "a flash in the pan"; he delighted
in the plain, solid gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that he would have
said to me,—Give them Christ crucified, and salvation by grace through
faith, as plainly as ever you can; for when he was sore sick and in the
very agony of death, he repeated as his dying creed—

"Nothing in my hand I bring:
Simply to thy cross I cling."

and in his own quaint way he added, "They may talk as much as ever they
like, but the whole of it lies in Jack the Huckster's verse

'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all
But Jesus Christ is my an in all.'"

You will find that story in the first volume of my sermons. [2] In
Park-street early in my ministry I told the story, and it did my friend
good, and helped to rest his soul all those years ago, so that he
remembered it and repeated it at the last. For his sake let me tell it
again.

This Huckster Jack was a poor, wicked fellow, who had gone about from
village to village, swearing, drinking, huckstering and perhaps
pilfering. Some thought him half-witted, but the story would show his
wind to be sound enough. He heard a poor woman sing somewhere—

I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all;
But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

He remembered the words, and what was better, he felt their sense; and
he kept on humming them to himself till God's good Spirit engraved them
on his heart. There they were recorded, and Jack was a new man and a
saved man. So he essayed to join himself unto the church, but the
brethren looked suspiciously at him and enquired, "What is your
experience?" He said he had no experience but this—

"I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all
But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

The good elders very properly asked, "Are you converted? Have you been
born again?" and Jack replied, "I do not know much about these things;
but this I do know and am sure of—

'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all
But Jesus Christ is my all in all.'

They put him back for awhile, to try if he would grow in his knowledge,
but he never went an inch beyond the first standard. He know what he
did know, and to that he held fast—

"I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all
But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

Well, they must take him into the church; they could not well refuse a
man with such a confession of faith; and when he was in the church,
walking with the brethren, he was happier than the rest of them, at
which they greatly marvelled, and one said to him, "Brother Jack, don't
you sometimes feel doubts and fears? "Doubts," he said, "what do you
mean? I never doubt that

'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all;'

for I have daily proofs of it, and why should I doubt that

'Jesus Christ is my all in all'?

for he says he is, and I must believe him." "Ah, well," said one,
"sometimes I enjoy good frames and feelings, and feel very happy, and
then I lose them, and sink in spirit." Jack answered, "I never get
lower than I am, for I am down at the bottom—

'A poor sinner, and nothing at all.'

I cannot get lower than that, can I? But I am also at the top,

'for Jesus Christ is my all in all,'

and I cannot get higher than that, can I?" They tried him many ways
with their blessed experience, of which you and I have got cart-loads,
perhaps waggon-loads; but he could not be drawn out of his one firm
position. They tried him with their various attainments, depressions,
anxieties, quibbles, and questions; but still the huckster would not
budge. He had bought the truth and would not sell it, and so he stuck
to—

"I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all;
But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

The conies are a feeble folk, yet have they their habitations among the
rocks: they are safe, but they keep to their hiding place.

Of course our new Perfection brethren, spick and span saints as they
are, are not like Jack, they are not "poor sinners, and nothing at
all," and I am afraid lest some of them should find out that Jesus
Christ is not their all in all. But if you and I are as he was, "poor
sinners, and nothing at all," we may, with firm and resolute grip, lay
hold upon the other line, "But Jesus Christ is my all in all." Christ's
fullness is meant for our emptiness; Christ's righteousness is meant
for our sin, salvation is for the lost. When you and I are no longer
sinners, Christ is no longer our Savior; when you and I no more need
him, then we shall not have him. Our need is our warrant, and if that
be gone, all is gone. Jesus did not bleed and die to be a superfluity
to us: he cattle to meet a grim necessity. As long as we are nothing
Christ is our all in all; we may be sure of that, and that is just the
gospel in a nutshell. I want to preach that same gospel this morning,
in the hope that in after days this word may be scattered far and wide,
and some Jack the Huckster, or some other like him, may find himself to
be utterly empty and undone, and may then know that Christ is ordained
to be his salvation. Jesus came into the world to save real sinners,
not sham sinners; for he is a real, and not a pretended Savior. He
saves those who are always confessors of sin, always needy in
themselves, and therefore always glad of him. Even in their best estate
the saved ones need their Lord: even if we walk in the light as God is
in the light, and have fellowship with him, we still sin, and still the
blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin.

I now plunge into my text. Notice, first, what Moses said. Moses said,
"That the man which doeth those things shall live by them." Next, what
the gospel says: "But the righteousness which is of faith speaketh on
this wise," and so on. Thirdly, we shall consider what the Scripture
saith: "Whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed." Then,
fourthly, we will hear what experience saith; for we may bring in the
experience of believers to back up the declarations of God.

I. I invite your earnest attention to the first point—WHAT MOSES SAITH:
"Moses describeth the righteousness which is of the law, That the man
which doeth those things shall live by them." This is a clear
statement. There is no mystery or obscurity about it. You need not go
to the universities and earn a degree of D.D. in order to understand
this declaration: it is as plain as words can make it. If you wish to
be saved by the law you must do its commands and you shall live. The
law is written in the ten commandments; you know them; and if you
desire to live by them you must keep them. It will not suffice for you
to learn those commands by heart, or to write them up in your churches,
or to read them over and say, "Lord, have mercy upon us, and incline
our hearts to keep this law": all that may be well enough, but it is
not to the point. If you are to be saved by the commandments you must
do them: that is clear. Moses does not allow any person to dream that
under the law he can be saved in any other way than by perfect
obedience thereto. "For not the hearers of the law are just before God,
but the doers of the law shall be justified." Whatever it is that God
has commanded, you must do; whatever he forbids, you must avoid; for by
such obedience alone can you live.

Mark you, Moses does not tone down the law to suit our fallen state, or
talk of our doing our best and God's being satisfied with our imperfect
obedience. No, he says only, "He that doeth those things shall live by
them." He demands perfect and entire obedience, if life is to come of
it. He does not say that if you have broken the law you may still live
by some other means. No, if the law is once broken it is all over with
you as to salvation thereby: one single fault takes away the
possibility of your ever being justified by the law. "He that doeth
those things," that is, always, without exception, with all his heart
and soul and strength—"he shall live by them"; but nobody else. Be he
Jew or be he Gentile, his only righteousness by law must come through
the doing of the law. Moses says nothing about wearing phylacteries, or
washing hands, or offering incense, or performing ceremonies in order
to righteousness. No; clear, straight, cutting like a sharp razor, he
puts before us the single sentence, "He that doeth those things shall
live by them."

Judge ye whether any one of us has fulfilled the whole law. To my mind
this word of Moses is conclusive that none of us can possibly live by
the works of the law. We cannot keep the law now, for we have already
broken it: the vase is fractured, and to talk of keeping it entire is
nonsense. But even if it were not already broken, should we get through
to-morrow with its temptations, bearing such a heart as we have within
us, without breaking that perfect and spotless law? I am sure we should
not. You that hope to be saved by your works are indulging a forlorn
hope; what never you may do or be in the future, the past has already
ruined you. The way to heaven up the steep sides of Sinai is
inaccessible to trembling feet like ours. If you were to be saved by
the law you should have begun without sin, continued without sin, and
then it would be needful to end without sin. There would not be a
moment of your life in which you could be at peace, for there would
always be the fear that in some unguarded instant you would transgress,
and lose all. But why talk I so? It is no longer in our power to dream
of a perfect, life-long obedience. We went astray from the womb,
speaking lies; we were rebellious to our parents in our childhood, and
wayward in our youth; in our early manhood we were carried about with
this passion and with that, and since then all kinds of evils have led
us astray. We are as full of evil as an egg is full of meat, and our
heart is like a cage of unclean birds. I can say no less. The hope of
salvation by works is black despair; yet we have a set of men on the
face of the earth who are always wanting us to preach up this hopeless
hope, and urging us to lay this heavy burden upon the shoulders of
dying men. They would have us proclaim salvation by the works of the
law. This, they say, would at least make men moral and keep them sober:
whereas even in this they err against the light; for it has been proved
by history that such preaching makes men worse and worse. The idea of
salvation by works sits like an awful incubus upon the breast of
humanity, and presses out of the soul all hope, thus robbing man of
strength to attempt true holiness. When a man has lost all hope he
throws the reins upon his neck and runs into all manner of iniquity,
judging that he may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

Clear, then, as possible it must be to every man among us who will
think, that if the only way of salvation by the works of the law is by
the keeping of the law in its entirety, then that road is closed
against us, and the sooner we have done with it the better; for then we
shall turn our thoughts in the right direction, and travel on the way
which the Lord in great mercy has prepared for us. This is what Moses
saith: hear it and be humbled.

II. Now I ask you to listen to WHAT THE GOSPEL SAITH. "The
righteousness which is of faith," or believing, "speaketh on this wise,
Say not in thy heart, Who shall ascend into heaven? (that is, to bring,
Christ down from above:) or, Who shall descend into the deep? (that is,
to bring up Christ again from the dead.) But what saith it? The word is
nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart: that is, the word of
faith, which we preach; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the
Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him
from the dead, thou shalt be saved."

Now observe, first, that the gospel claims to be like the law in its
clearness. Moses claimed for the law which God had given to the people
through him that it was clear, and within the range of their knowledge
and understanding. I will read his exact words to you. Turn to
Deuteronomy 30:11. "For this commandment which I command thee this day,
it is not hidden from thee, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven,
that thou shouldest say, Who shall go up for us to heaven, and bring it
unto us, that we may bear it, and do it? Neither is it beyond the sea,
that thou shouldest say, Who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it
unto us, that we may hear it, and do it? But the word is very nigh unto
thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it." Now Paul
here very adroitly takes these words out of the mouth of Moses, alters
them somewhat, and as good as says, "It was the boast of the law that
it was clear, known, and accessible to the people; but much more is
this the glory of the gospel." Did not I show you just now that when
Moses spoke he did not mystify the matter, but put it plainly, "The man
that doeth those things shall live by them." So also the gospel by no
means involves itself in obscurity, but says, Believe and live, quite
as distinctly as Moses said, "Do and live." Here you have it, "Believe
in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Moses' utterance
was single and by itself. He did not say, "Do and thou shalt live, and
yet there is another way." No; under the law it was nothing but "Do and
live; leave undone and die." So the gospel does not propose a second
way, and suggest "a larger hope," but it declares with solemn decision,
"He that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not
believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God." It is just as
clear as ever the law was, and quite as sharply distinct. Herein is no
mystery: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, and
whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
Wrapping everything up into one, the gospel says, "Trust thou in the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thy sins shall be forgiven thee, and thou shalt
be saved." This believing, or trusting, is the whole of the matter, and
neither heaven above nor the abyss beneath will ever reveal another
salvation.

I want to call your special attention to the fact that Paul borrows the
words of Moses; for his intent was the ending of all fears. No man
among us doubts that if he had performed the law of God the Lord would
give him life; but it is equally certain that if we have believed in
the Lord Jesus Christ we have eternal lire. No trembling sinner doubts
but that by the breaking of the law we are condemned: be you equally
sure of it, that by not believing you are condemned. As no keeper of
the law would have been lost on any ground whatever, so no believer in
Christ shall be lost on any ground whatever; as no breaker of the law
could escape punishment, so no unbeliever in Christ can he saved. The
gospel states its message as clearly as the law. As positively as the
law utters its promise and threat, so positively and unalterably doth
the gospel deliver its decree. The believer in Jesus shall be saved
because he is a believer; and Christ's veracity is staked
thereon:—"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath
everlasting life."

Oh, but this is a very blessed thing to have to say to you. I do not
come to-day with a gospel veiled in mystery and shrouded in doubt; I do
not bring a message which you cannot understand or receive; neither do
I come with "ifs" and "buts" and "peradventures," but with this,
"Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." "He
that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." "Whosoever believeth in
him hath everlasting life." This is as certain and clear as the
utterance of that dreadful roll of thunder which has just now left on
your minds the thought, "He that doeth these things shall live by
them."

Let us go a little further. What saith the gospel? Why, next, it
forbids the questions of despair. "The righteousness which is of faith
speaketh on this wise, Say not in thine heart, Who shall ascend into
heaven? or, Who shall descend into the deep?" When a man is at length
awakened to a sense of sin he cries, "I long to be saved! All that I
have and all that I am I would give to escape from the righteous wrath
of God. Sirs, what must I do to be saved? Surely it would need that I
mount to heaven to own my sin, or dive to hell to bear its punishment.
I want a righteousness which would need as much labor to produce as a
climb to heaven would need; and I require an expiation for sin as great
as though a man were plunged into the abyss itself, and there were made
to suffer the divine anger. How is it possible that I can be saved?
"This wail of despair takes many forms: one man puts it thus: "What
doings can I perform by which I can be saved?

'Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow,
All for sin could not atone.'"

Another, despairing of deliverance by his doings, runs upon his
feelings, and cries, "If I am to be saved, surely I shall need to
experience joys like those which are felt by spirits before the throne.
If I had a sense of sin as deep as that of lost souls in hell, I could
hope that I should be saved." Thus the second man looks to excitements
and feelings just as the first looked to works and self-denials. Now,
the gospel forbids us to dream in this fashion. Talk not thus. Say not
even in thy heart that by these doings or feelings thou canst be saved.
Perhaps thou wouldst be ashamed to say it with thy lips; but do not say
it at all; do not say that the way to heaven is hard, or mysterious, or
in any degree apart from the simple act of believing. Do not suppose
that anything is wanted as to doings or feelings in order to complete
the righteousness which is wrought out by the Lord Jesus, and imputed
by God to the believer.

Ah, then the heart foolishly cries, "I must know a great deal; as much
as if I had been to heaven and seen for myself, or as if I had dived
into the depths and made discoveries there." No, you must not: the
gospel is simple; salvation is as plain as a pikestaff; familiar an
homespun; easy as the A B C of your childhood. Say not in thine heart
that thou must be educated, trained, and made into a scholar. No,
confess yourself a sinner; trust in the sinner's Savior, and you are
saved.

"Ah, well," says one, "I know I must undergo a singular
experience-either I must be carried right away to heaven with delirious
delight, or be plunged into the waves of hell in frightful despair."
No, my dear friend, do not say that even in your thought. The
righteousness of faith lies not in dreams and visions, delusions or
depressions: it lies only in reliance upon the work of Jesus finished
for you. Go not to the loom to weave a righteousness. The garment is
woven already; put it on; Christ gives it to you. Dig not into the
bowels of the earth to find the gold of salvation. Christ holds it out
to you: take it freely, and be rich for ever. So one of the first works
of the gospel is silencing the questions of our unbelief.

Next, this precious gospel translates these questions, and then answers
them. Listen. A voice cries "Who shall ascend into heaven?" The gospel
replies, if you did ascend to heaven what would you do there, without
Christ, the anointed Savior? You say, "Who shall descend into the
deep?" Listen, man. If you were to descend there, what would you do
without him whom God has anointed to save? If you find him in it will
not much matter where you find him, in heaven or in the deep, for he
must be almighty everywhere. Now hearken. Thou sayest, "Who shall
ascend into heaven?" the top and bottom of such an ascent must be, "to
bring Christ down." Hear this! Jesus has come down: years ago be left
the glories of his Father. Hast thou not heard the tale? Being Pure,
blazing, glorious Godhead, "Light of lights, very God of very God," on
a sudden they found him in a stable hanging on a woman's breast. Angels
saw him and wondered. He came down, indeed, when he was born; and,
being down so low as that, he descended to the carpenter's shop, to the
weariness of the well's brink, and to a thirst which made him say,
"Give me to drink." Lower than that, he descended to being "despised
and rejected of men." he was Lord of heaven and earth, and yet they
called him Beelzebub, and talked of him as a drunken man and a
wine-bibber. Having descended all that length he went lower still.
Listen,—angels, you will not weary while I tell the story over again—he
went into Gethsemane where he put on the crimson garment of his own
bloody sweat; and then to Pilate's hall, where they did falsely accuse
him, and spit on him, and scourge him, and make a jest of him; and then
to that cross whereon they nailed him in his nakedness, so that he hung
in agony, to die in fever and in thirst, till he cried, "It is
finished." He descended into the grave, so that he dwelt among the
dead! We know not how low he went, but we are told that "he descended
into the lower parts of the earth." Oh, my bearer, our salvation lies
in this! Not in our descending, but in Christ's descending our hope is
to be found. Listen to it, lost ones; you need not climb to heaven:
Christ has come down from heaven to you; and if you lie among the
spiritually dead to-day, or think you do, he has come down to you, and
you need not enquire bow you can go up to him. No prayers, or tears,
are wanted to bring him down: he has already come and is near at hand.
You asked, "Who shall descend into the deep?" Now listen. Here is your
answer. You need not "bring up Christ again from the dead," for the
Lord has risen indeed. His soul scarce descended among the shades
before it quitted them for ever; that day he died he was in Paradise,
and the thief was with him there as a trophy. Up also his body rose on
the light of the third day; and he sojourned for forty days among his
disciples. At the close of that period he rose into the air, ascending
high. As they watched him rising higher, and yet higher, at last a
cloud received him: he has gone up to the Father's throne, as the
sinner's Savior: at the throne he stands to-day to intercede for
sinners, and from that throne he bends to comfort those who come to
him. Now, your hope lies wholly in what this Son of God did in his
descent and ascent. God has brought him again from the dead and exalted
him at his own right hand, and this is not for himself, but for all
those who trust in him. His death is instead of the death of our souls:
his life is the life of our spirits. Now, soul, thou hast nothing to do
with asking vain questions; thou hast to accept the result of the
Savior's actual performances. The saving work is done, done by him who
was anointed of the Lord to do it. Look to him and salvation is thine.
Thy salvation rests in Jesus, rest thou in Jesus. Throw thyself upon
him now; even as a babe casts itself upon its mother's breast. Have
done with every other confidence. What canst thou need more than to
rely upon the Anointed of the Lord?

Now, Paul declares, or rather the gospel speaking for itself declares,
this word of life by faith in the risen Christ to be near us, that is,
to be accessible to us. As your next door neighbor's house is not hard
to get at, so neither is salvation by the gospel. It is nigh you; it is
nigh you now: it will never be nigher than it is at this moment. You
may now believe in Christ and live eternally. Difficulty there is none:
only believe and thou art saved. It is not a mystical, obscure thing;
it is near and familiar. Believe in Christ as you would believe in your
friend: believe that he died for sinners, and trust in him for
salvation. If God has made you feel yourself a sinner, then Christ is
such a Savior as you need and you may have him at once: the only
difficulty lies in the way being so easy that you can hardly think it
can be so. Have done with doings, and feelings, and trust yourself with
Christ. "The word is nigh thee." It is simple; indeed, so simple that
people try to obscure it in order to understand it. It is such milk for
babes that I have known people refuse such plain truth because they
were not willing to be treated like little children. Just as I lean all
my weight upon this rail so do I lean my soul wholly upon Christ. If
what Christ has done will not save a sinner I am damned; for I have
nothing else to depend upon; but if it will save, and sure I am that it
will, I am saved as surely as Christ has risen from the dead. This is
the substance of the matter—Christ saves, and we trust. This is what
that word of faith says, even the gospel which we preach. I am afraid
we say a great deal at times which rather lumbers and cumbers the
gospel than makes it clear. Perhaps I am doing the same this morning,
but I do not mean to do it. I mean to let it stand out simply before
you, that the incarnation, the life, the death, and the resurrection of
Christ are the one foundation upon which we must depend for eternal
salvation, and upon that alone; and if we do so depend we shall most
assuredly be saved.

Yet note, that Paul opens this up into two things. He says, "If thou
shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine
heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." So
there must be confession with the mouth. Do not leave that out. Do not
suppose that you can be a believer and conceal your faith. As I said
the other day, Do not behave like a rat behind the wainscot, only
daring to come out in the dark. That is not Christ's way. If you trust
in him with your heart, trust him openly, and confess him with your
mouth, owning that he is your Lord, and your Savior. He has put the two
things together,—"He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved."
The believing and the confession of that believing in God's own way are
never to be separated, for "With the heart man believeth unto
righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation."
See ye well to this.

III. Thirdly, let us consider, WHAT THE SCRIPTURE SAITH; "Whosoever
believeth on him shall not be ashamed." "Whosoever." Whatever man in
all the world, throughout all the ages, shall come and trust himself on
Christ shall never be ashamed of having done so. You, dear friend, down
the aisle there, it you trust in Christ you shall never be ashamed of
your hope. You, up there in the gallery, however guilty you may have
been, or however moral you may have been, it matters not, if your one
hope is in what Christ has done, you shall never turn round on your
dying bed, and cry, "I made a mistake in trusting Christ." You know
what Cardinal Bellarmine said: he was a great antagonist of Luther, and
thought that we might trust in our works; but, looking it all over, he
admitted that inasmuch as no man could be quite sure that he had done
enough good works, it was perhaps best on the whole and safest to trust
altogether to the blood and merits of Jesus Christ. I have always felt
obliged to the Cardinal for that admission; because the best is good
enough for me, and since trusting in Jesus is the safest, I intend to
stick to it even to the end. There is really no other hope, for if you
get a little bit of your own works put into the building, of your hope,
you have just so much rotten timber in the fabric, and that rot will
plague the whole house, and turn it into dust at the last. No man that
rested in Christ, and Christ alone, ever was ashamed of his hope; and
none ever shall be. There is sure ground here. The Rock of Ages never
fails.

What else does the Scripture say? It says that no man is forbidden to
believe; "for there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for
the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him." There
never was a sinner yet to whom God said, "You must not trust my Son":
on the contrary, it is written, "Him that cometh to me I will in no
wise cast out." What about the doctrine of election? I need not speak
about it this morning: I believe it, and rejoice in it: but it is not
at all contrary to this precious truth. Read this verse, "All that the
Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in
no wise cast out." Whoever will in the whole world believe in Christ
may do so; he is neither too old or too young, or too rich, or too
poor, or too wicked, or too moral; if he will but trust Christ he shall
be saved, and he is fully allowed and permitted, yea, commanded to
believe and live.

Once, again, though your faith should only be strong enough to lead you
to pray, yet it shall save you, for "Whosoever shall call on the name
of the Lord shall be saved." Suppose your faith cannot work miracles;
never mind about miracles. Suppose you cannot walk on the sea, like
Peter: never mind; you are not called to do it. Can your faith pray?
Can it cry? Then call upon the Lord, and you shall be saved. Poor dear
heart, if you can but trust Christ, even though the feeblest possible
manifestation of it should be the only thing visible, namely, your
calling upon God in prayer, it must and shall save you.

IV. Now, I hope I have put it plainly. I have tried my best; and so I
close by bidding you hear WHAT EXPERIENCE SAITH. What does experience
say about believing in Christ! Experience says, and we are some of us
here to say it, that it is the grandest way of living in the world. I
assure you that I daily find the value of living by faith. In hours of
dire distress and great heaviness of spirit, of which I know enough, I
prove the power of faith in Jesus. Ah, my Lord, what should I do then
if I could not as "a poor sinner, and nothing at all" find Christ to be
my "all in all." Fair-weather sailors, who go out in their little
painted perfection boats, are people who have had small temptation and
little soul-trouble. They are generally gentlemen in good health, with
regular incomes and sweet tempers, and so they soon reach their
imaginary sinlessness—vain creatures that they are; but you never get
any of that among the poor, suffering, tried people of God. In stormy
weather our beauty and glory soon turn pale; when the devil meets us
face to face, he cracks up our tinsel perfection with a blow. He laughs
at all our comeliness, he knows that it is a hollow cheat, a vile sham.
In the moments when the soul is in the lowest depths, faith is the only
way to live. That mode of living which will do for the depths is safe
for the heights.

How blessed it is when a child of God has actually fallen into sin,—God
keep us so that we never may,—but if guilt is on the soul, what is a
poor creature to do? He can do nothing unless he has learned this
precious truth, that he is nothing at all, and Jesus Christ is his all
in all. Then he knows that Jesus will blot out his transgressions, and
create in him a clean heart, and restore him to himself again, though
now, like David, his sin is ever before him.

Yes, and I find a self-denying, Christ-exalting faith to be good in
times of jubilation and success. The only way to keep right and humble
is to be nothing, and let Jesus be all in all. If God has blessed your
ministry or other holy work, the devil whispers, "You are a pretty
fellow; you have done wonders"; and up you will go if you are not
steadied by the firm conviction that you may not glory, since you are
nothing at all in yourself, and your sole help is in Jesus your Lord.
When God gives you growth in grace and fruitfulness in good works it
will be your safety to be as little as ever you were, and to trust in
nothing but the work of the Lord. This blessed faith keeps men down
when they are apt to go up, and up when otherwise they would be apt to
go down. It is a holy balancing pole: we can walk the narrowest line
with this in our hands, and fear no fall. Ourselves nothing, Christ
everything—that is it. Keep to it.

Now as to the test of death. Does this sort of faith enable men to face
death with courage? I have had almost thirty years among you, and God
has been very gracious to us, so that we have lost very few
comparatively by death; but now many are going home, and, according to
the course of nature, many of our honored brethren and sisters will
soon follow. As to those who have been called home, how have they died?
I have the deep satisfaction of saying that when our dear brethren and
sisters fall asleep they reflect honor upon the gospel which we have
preached. Ask those who have seen them die. These dear ones at this
hour look back upon me and say, "Go on: preach the same gospel to
others; for we found it blessed truth to die upon." Look at our dear,
departed brother, Mr. Higgs, the last who has crossed the stream. His
sons and daughters will tell you that his death was sad to them, but
not to him. He suffered agonizing pain, but his peace was as deep as
the sea. He had no uncertainty; he was as sure of his safety as it it
had been a matter of calculation by the rules of arithmetic. He knew
whom he had believed, and knew what the Lord had done for him, and he
could not see a weak point in it all. He spent the whole night in
trying to cheer and comfort others: he had no trembling thought about
himself. He did not say, "Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O my
friends, for the hand of the Lord hath touched me." No; he knew that
Christ was the resurrection and the life, and he was ready to depart.
He wished his beloved ones to go to their beds; and since they would
stop with him, he desired them to sing." "What shall we sing?" "Sing"
said he,

"For ever with the Lord,
Amen, so let it be."

It is hard singing when your father is dying, but it was not hard to
him. He bade them read that chapter, "Let not your hearts be troubled";
and, as they read it, he did not take the verses, and apply them to
himself. No, he directed the comfort to his dear wife, for she had
greater need of it than he had his faith was firm. It was for her he
cared, and for those about him as for himself, all was rest. One said
somewhat roughly to him a fortnight before, "Don't be downhearted; you
may got better yet." "Stop a minute," said he. "What do you mean? I
have never been down-hearted at anything my life; certainly not at the
thought of dying. If it was the Lord's will that I should die in the
street at this moment, I would cheerfully go." He never said a word
more than he felt; yet that was the style of man. God send us more like
him—men to whom religion is for home consumption. Not a pretty toy for
Sundays, but food to live upon; a common-sense hope; a blunt man's
religion that he can carry into business. One reported to me the other
day a word which cheered me much. An Italian gentleman, who has known
me since I have been at Mentone, was asked, "Are you a Catholic?" "No,
I am not." "Are you a Protestant?" I am not sure, for I know little
about it." "What are you?" "I am of Mr. Spurgeon's religion, which
makes people happy themselves, and causes them to do good to others." I
thank God he could say that of my religion: it did this for my dear
friend—it made him a happy man, whose pleasure it was to please others:
and now he has passed away in full sunlight into a still brighter noon.
Amen, so let it be.

The top and bottom of the matter is, "Believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ." Be nothing; be nobody; and trust Him. Do not believe in
yourself, but believe in Jesus. Have as many good works as you can cram
into your life, but never tell anybody about them, or think anything of
them. The best of them are but filthy rags: stow them all away in the
coal-hole, and look to the merits of your Lord for salvation. Go to
Jesus for everything. He says, "I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried
in the fire, that thou may be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest
be clothed." Take his counsel. As he whom we sorrow for today could die
peacefully, and even merrily, so shall you and I if we rely on the same
Savior. When our time comes to depart, we shall just step aside and
say, "Good-bye, dear friends, awhile: we will meet again in the home of
the blessed." I hear him say so at this moment; and I answer him, "Dear
brother, we will be with you speedily."