A Golden Prayer

DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, DECEMBER 30, 1877,

BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"Father, glorify Your name." John 12:28.

IN the first part of my discourse this morning I shall strictly keep to
my text, as the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and endeavor to show
what it teaches us with regard to Him. These are His own words and it
would be robbery to borrow them until first we have seen what they
meant as they fell from His lips. Their most golden meaning must be
seen in the light of His sacred Countenance. Then, in the second part
of my sermon, I shall try to point out how the petition before us may
be used by ourselves. I pray that Divine Grace may be given us that it
may be engraved upon our hearts and that each one of us may be taught
by the Holy Spirit daily to say for himself, "Father, glorify Your
name."

I would suggest that these words should be to all the Lord's people in
this Church their slogan for another year and, indeed, their prayer
throughout life. It will as well behoove the beginner in Grace as the
ripe Believer. It will be proper both at the wicket gate of faith as at
the portals of Glory. Like a lovely rainbow, let the prayer, "Father,
glorify Your name," arch over the whole period of our life on earth. I
cannot suggest a better petition for the present moment, nor, indeed,
for any moment of our pilgrimage. Let us close the old year with it and
open the door of the new to the same note.

As for the past, "Father, glorify Your name in the present. Fulfill
this desire unto Your servants and in the future do it yet more
abundantly!"

I. Let us look, then, at the words, first of all, IN RESPECT TO OUR
LORD JESUS CHRIST. They occur in the following connection. He had
worked a notable miracle in the raising of Lazarus from the dead. The
fame of the miracle had attracted many to hear Him. Enthusiastic crowds
had gathered and He had become so extremely popular that the Pharisees
said, "the world has gone after Him." The people were willing to have
made Him a king–and a great concourse met Him with branches of palm
trees and cried, "Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel that comes in
the name of the Lord."

Our Lord passed in royal but humble pomp through the streets of
Jerusalem, riding upon a colt, the foal of an ass. This public
manifestation, the renown of the miracle and the general talk of the
populace led to strangers hearing of Him and enquiring about Him. And
certain intelligent Greeks of a very respectable order–for their mode
of address to Philip shows their superior behavior–asked to be
introduced to Him. They wished to "see Jesus," not, of course, merely
see Him in the streets, for that they could do if they pleased without
applying to Philip. No, they wanted an interview with Him. They wanted
to learn more about His teaching and His claims.

I suppose that the sight of these Greeks greatly gladdened the heart of
the Savior, for He delighted to see men coming to the light. He seemed
to say within Himself, "Behold the nations come to Me. The Gentiles
arise and seek their Savior." He saw in those Greeks the advance guard
of the Gentile world. He looked upon the strangers with delight,
regarding them as representative men, the first of myriads who, from
the ends of the earth and the islands of the sea, would come flocking
to Him to behold the Glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. Our Lord
rejoiced in spirit! His heart was glad within Him and He began to
address Himself to the people round about–and to the Greeks who
mingled with the throng.

At that very moment the thought flashed across the Savior's mind, "But
these nations who are to be born unto Me and to be saved by Me, cannot
be so born without birth-pangs, nor saved unless I endure unspeakable
suffering as their Redeemer." This fact came vividly before our Lord's
mind and it rushed over His spirit like a raging torrent. He saw that
He could not become the seed corn of a great harvest unless, first of
all, He should fall into the ground and die. He was the one grain of
wheat upon whom all depended and He must lose comfort and life–and be
buried in the earth–or else

He would abide alone and bring forth no fruit. He saw the vicarious
suffering which lay in His way and His soul was troubled.

Do not imagine that our Savior dreaded death, in itself considered. He
was far superior in sacred courage and strength of mind to any of His
servants and yet many of them have welcomed death! And others of them,
such as the martyrs, have endured it in its most terrible forms,
without fear, even expressing a holy delight in glorifying the name of
God by their mortal agony. Our Lord was not less brave than these in
prospect of His departure. But never let it be forgotten that the death
of Christ was a very peculiar one and, in fact, stands alone by itself!
His death was the vindication of Justice. It was the death of the
Sin-Bearer. It was a sacrificial, substitutionary, expiatory death–and
this is very different from the death of a pardoned and justified
Believer who passes out of the world resting on the Atonement and
supported by a sense of having been reconciled to God by the great
Sacrifice.

Our Lord was called to bear the enormous load of man's
transgressions–over His holy soul the dark shadow of human guilt must
pass–and on His sensitive spirit must be made to meet the iniquity of
us all. His saints' deaths are blessed in the sight of the Lord, but He
must be made a curse for us that we might be blessed in Him! And as the
mind of Christ clearly perceived this lying in the way of that triumph
among the Gentiles which gave Him joy, there was a struggle in His
soul–and that struggle was manifested before the assembled people. The
Greeks desired to see Jesus and they did see Him in a very remarkable
manner–so that they must have been astounded at the sight! If they
expected to see a king, they did, indeed, behold a royal soul, but they
saw Him in such grief as falls not to the lot of common men. If they
wished to see somewhat of His greatness of spirit and power of mind,
they did see it, but it was a power which did not transfigure His face
with glory, but filled it with an agony marring all its beauty!

I shall not be too bold if I say that Gethsemane was rehearsed in
public upon the occasion before us. Our Lord says His soul was
troubled. He felt a sort of foreshadowing of that midnight among the
olives in which His soul was "exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death."
It was out of that conflict that our text came–in fact, our text is to
His suffering in the midst of the crowd what, "nevertheless not as I
will, but as You will," was to the agony of Gethsemane, or what, "It is
finished," was to the passion upon Calvary. It was the culminating
point, the climax and the conquest of a great mental battle! And when
He had thus spoken He seemed to shake Himself clear of the agony and to
emerge from it with the memory of it still upon Him–but with His face
set like a flint to go forward to the bitter and the glorious end–this
being now His watchword, "Father, glorify Your name."

I shall need to call your attention, dear Friends, briefly here, first,
to the trouble of the Redeemer's soul. I always tremble within myself
when I try to speak of the inner conflicts of our blessed Lord, for it
is so easy to make a mistake and darken counsel by words without
knowledge. His Person is complex and, therefore, we readily confuse.
Yet He Himself is but one and it is equally dangerous to make over nice
distinctions. Loving jealousy of our Lord's honor makes us feel that we
scarcely know how to speak of Him! I remember an earnest admirer of the
arts who, in pointing with his walking-stick to the beauties of a
famous picture, pushed his cane through the canvas and ruined it. And
it is possible that in our enthusiasm to point out the beauties and
points of interest in the life and death of our Lord, we may spoil it
all.

I fear lest in my ignorance I should make sorrow for myself by
dishonoring Him for whose honor I would gladly lay down and die. Help
me, O Divine Spirit! This much is clear, that our Savior's heart was
full of trouble. He who could still the sea and bid the storms retreat
was tempest-tossed in His own soul and cast about Him for anchorage. He
who could drive the fever from its lair, or send a legion of demons
into the deep was, nevertheless, troubled in spirit and cried, "What
shall I say?" Master of all worlds, supreme among the angels and adored
at His Father's right hand, yet He confesses, "Now is My soul
troubled."

Lord of all, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.
How near akin it makes Him to us! How human! How compassed with
infirmity! We worship Him and rightly so, but still He is a Man and a
mourner. We call Him Master and Lord, and we do well, yet He not only
washed His disciples' feet, but His own feet trembled in the rough
places of the way. He felt those same commotions of spirit which make
our hearts sad within us and cause us to pour out our souls within us.
Do not think of the Lord Jesus otherwise than as of a dear Brother born
for adversity, or a faithful Husband sharing all our lot, being bone of
our bone and flesh of our flesh. Did you cry out in anguish, "Now is my
soul troubled"? Then remember that your Lord has used the same words!

Are you half distracted? Are you tossed to and fro in your thoughts? Do
you ever ask, "What shall I say?" Jesus understands by sympathy what it
is you mean. Do you look around you and feel that you know not what to
do and does your trembling heart suggest that you should pray, "Father,
save me from this hour"? In all this you may see the Well-Beloved's
footprints–you are not upon a new and strange track. He leads you
through no darker rooms than He went through Himself. With the same
afflictions He has been afflicted–there is nothing in them novel or
surprising to His sympathetic heart! Beloved Friends, let me invite you
to consider that not only did our Lord thus suffer, but it is joyful to
reflect that He suffered all this without sin!

Therefore it follows that mental conflict is not, in itself,
sinful–even the shrinking back of the flesh from suffering is not
necessarily evil. And the question, "What shall I say?" and the
apparent distraction of the spirit, for the moment, as to what shall be
its course, are not, in themselves, criminal. There could be no sin in
the Lord Jesus and, consequently, there is not, of necessity, sin in
our inward struggles, though I am very far from venturing to hope that
in any one of them we are quite clear of fault. Our Lord's Nature was
so pure that however much it was stirred, it remained clear. But in our
case, though the stirring is not sinful, it sets in motion the sin
which dwells in us and we are defiled.

Yet I do not believe that all those depressions of spirit which come of
sickness, or all those wanderings of mind in the heat of fever, or all
the shrinking and drawing back from pain which are essential to our
humanity are set down as sin by our heavenly Father–though sin is
doubtless mixed with them. If they are sinful in themselves, yet surely
they are blotted out as soon as written down, for "like as a father
pities his children, so the Lord pities them that fear Him." He pities
rather than censures or condemns! You do not judge your children
harshly for what they say when they are racked with pain or prostrated
by weakness! You bear with their little fancies and temper and the
like, and you never taunt them with their follies afterwards!

Neither can I think that our heavenly Father would have us doubt our
interest in Christ because, in our semi-delirium, we could not realize
His love. Nor would He have us question the Divine Grace which is in us
because our feverish thoughts were near akin to despair. When the true
heart struggles to love and trust and obey, but the poor brain is
tortured with dark thoughts, the conflict is not all sinful, nor any of
it necessarily so. There may be an awful struggle in the soul and yet
the Father may be glorified. The sin lies not in the conflict but in
the defeat, if there is defeat. The guilt is not in the shrinking from
pain, but in permitting that natural feeling to hinder us from duty or
to lead us to rebel against chastisement. "If it is possible, let this
cup pass from me," is not a sinful utterance if it is followed by,
"nevertheless not as I will, but as You will."

I feel so glad to think our Lord, when He was passing through this
inward conflict, spoke out His feelings. It is instructive that He
should have done so, for with His strength of mind He was quite capable
of preserving a self-contained attitude and keeping His agony to
Himself. Yet you notice that neither here, in which case He spoke so
that others heard Him, nor at Gethsemane, in which case He took three
of His disciples to be with Him and went to them again and again for
sympathy–nor even on the Cross, in which case He cried aloud, "My God,
My God, why have You forsaken Me?" did He endeavor to conceal His
emotion from others.

It may be that by this He intended to teach us wisdom. He would show us
by His own example that it is well for us not to be too much shut up
within ourselves. Smother not your sorrow, tell it out or it may gather
an ungovernable heat! That is the worst of grief which cannot weep or
moan. Draw up the sluices–give a vent to pent up feelings! Even though
it is but a child who hears your tale, it will relieve your mind to
tell it. Anything is better than banking up the fires and concentrating
all the heat within the soul. Act not the stoic's part–be not ashamed
to let it be known that you are a man–a man who can grieve and be
troubled even as others!

It may sometimes be well to follow the poet's advice who says–

"Bear and still bear and silent be, Tell no man your misery,"

but I question if the occasions are very frequent. At any rate, such is
not the command of our Lord, nor does His example point in that
direction. In speaking out, our Lord gives us a full permit to speak,
too. We might have said, "No, I will not tell what is going on within,
lest my weakness should seem to dishonor God." Now we know that our
Lord did not dishonor the Father by saying, "Now is My soul troubled,"
and by revealing the inward conflict of His soul! Neither will

the fact of our speaking out our grief necessarily dishonor our God.
Jesus wept and we may weep. Jesus told His sorrow to His friends and
you may do the same.

In thus speaking, our Lord affords us the best of help, for His
fellow-feeling is a grand support. Did He say, "Now is My soul
troubled"? and did He scarcely know what to ask? But did He, at the
last, still triumph and resign Himself into His Father's hands? Then,
girt about by the same power, we also will encounter the same sorrow
after our measure and endure until we triumph as He did! Even though in
the triumph there should be clear evidence of our personal weakness,
yet we will not regret it since by that means our God shall be the more
surely glorified by the more distinct revelation of His power. I will
say no more about the trouble of our Redeemer because I would now ask
you to fix your thoughts, for a minute, upon the firm resolve which the
text sets forth.

There is a battle, but from the very first moment to the last of it
there is really no question in the Savior's mind about what He means to
do–His purpose was settled beyond disturbance. The surface of His mind
was ruffled, but deep down in His heart the current of the Redeemer's
soul flowed on irresistibly in the ordained channel. He was always
straitened till He had been baptized with the appointed Baptism.
Observe the question raised and see how really it was answered in His
heart before He asked it. "Now is My soul troubled, and what shall I
say? 'Father, save Me from this hour?'" Must men be unsaved and Jesus
be delivered from the lowering storm? If so, yonder Greeks need not ask
to see Him, for there will be no "life look" at Him!

The disciples round about need not cling to Him as their helper, for
there is no help in Him unless He dies to redeem the sons of men! Shall
men, then, be unredeemed? Shall the blood of Atonement not be spilled
and no man be ransomed from going down to the Pit? Shall He remain
alone, the grain of wheat unsown? If He does, He will be happy enough
and glorious enough, for Heaven is all His own! Does He need men to
make Him blessed? Does He require worms of the dust to make Him
glorious? Should He remain alone, He will still be God and Lord!

But, shall the death penalty be left to be borne by men, guilty men,
who deserve to bear it? Shall there be no Cross, no Calvary, no open
tomb, no Resurrection, no gates of Heaven set wide open for coming
souls? There is the question and you see in the text how resolutely
Jesus had settled it! He says in effect–"Father, glorify Your name by
My death! For this purpose have I come to this hour, that by My agony
and bloody sweat, by My Cross and passion, I may redeem the sons of
men. Redeemed they must and shall be, cost Me what it may! I have
resolved to bear the penalty and magnify Your Law and I will perform
it, though Hell itself is let loose against Me and all its waves of
fire dash over Me. I will endure the Cross and despise the shame to
honor You, My Father."

Observe right well that the text indicates the deep intent which
steadied our Lord's resolve. Why is Christ resolved to die? Is it to
save men? Yes, but not as the chief reason. His first prayer is not,
"Father, save My people," but, "Father, glorify Your name." The Glory
of God was the chief end and objective of our Savior's life and death.
It is that the Father's name may be illustrious that Jesus would have
souls redeemed! His passion had for its main intent the exhibition of
the attributes of God. And, Brothers and Sisters, how completely He has
glorified Jehovah's name! Upon the Cross we see the Divine Justice in
the streaming wounds of the great Substitute–for the Son of God must
die when sin is laid upon Him! There, also, you behold infinite Wisdom,
for what but Infallible Wisdom could have devised the way whereby God
might be just and yet the Justifier of him that believes?

There, too, is love–rich, free, boundless love–never so conspicuous
as in the death of man's Redeemer! To this day it still remains a
question concerning the Atonement which of the letters is best
written–the justice, the wisdom, or the love. In the Atonement the
Divine attributes are all so perfectly glorified that no one crowds out
the other–each one has its full display without, in the least degree,
diminishing the glory of any other! Our blessed Lord, that the Father
might be glorified, pushed on to the end which He had set before Him.
Whatever conflict might be within His spirit, His heart was fixed upon
bearing our load to the death and suffering our penalty to the end.

Now, Brethren, I will detain you here with but one other thought–it is
this–the grand result which came of it was that God was, in very deed,
greatly glorified and to this fact special testimony was given. A Voice
was heard out of Heaven saying, "I have both glorified it and will
glorify it again." That Voice speaks of the past–the Incarnation of
Christ had glorified the name of God. I am unable to describe to you
how much luster the love of God receives from the fact of the Word
being made flesh and dwelling among us! It is the mystery of mysteries,
the marvel of all marvels that the Creator should espouse the nature of
His creature and that He should be found in fashion as a man!

Oh, Bethlehem, you have exceedingly magnified the condescension of God!
Angels might well sing, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace,
goodwill towards men." Nor Bethlehem, alone, but Nazareth and the 30
years which our Lord spent on earth all illustrate the condescension,
the pity, the long-suffering of God. Did God dwell among us 30 years?
Did He abide in humility in the carpenter's shop for the best part of
that time and did He afterwards come forth to be a poor Man, a Teacher
of peasants, a Friend of sinners, a Man of Sorrows, despised and
rejected of men? Could the Holy and the Just, the Infinite and the
Glorious thus, as it were, compress infinity into so small a space and
marry Deity to such poverty and shame? It was so! Then tune your harps
anew, you seraphs, to tell the amazing love and condescension of
"Immanuel, God with us."

Well spoke that Voice–"I have glorified it." But listen yet again, for
it adds–"and will glorify it again." To my mind that word, "again,"
sounds like certain voices I have heard in the Alps. The horn is
sounded and then follows an echo–no–twice, thrice and perhaps 50
times the music is distinctly repeated! The voices follow each other in
gradually melting strains. The metaphor is not complete, for in this
case the echoes increase in volume. Instead of diminishing, they wax
louder and louder. Lo, Jesus hangs upon the Cross and dies–and God is
glorified, for Justice has his due. He lies in the grave till the third
morning, but He bursts the bonds of Death! Lo, God's great name is
glorified again, since the Divine power, truth and faithfulness are all
seen in the Resurrection of Christ!

Yet a few more days and He ascends into Heaven, the Man, the God–and a
cloud hides Him from our sight–He has glorified the Father's name
again by leading captivity captive! Then comes Pentecost and the
preaching of the Gospel among the heathen. And then is the name of God
glorified by the outpouring of the Spirit! Every conversion of a sinner
and every sanctification of a Believer is a fresh glorifying of the
name of the Father! And every reception of a perfected one into
Heaven–and surely they are entering Heaven every day, troops of them
climbing the celestial hills, drawn upward by almighty love–everyone,
I say, in entering into Paradise glorifies Jehovah's name again!

And, Brothers and Sisters, by-and-by, when the whole earth shall be
filled with His Glory, then will the Father glorify His name again.
When in His own time the Lord shall descend from Heaven with a shout
with the trumpet of the archangel and the voice of God–and when He
shall reign among His ancients gloriously–we shall hear the gladsome
acclamation, "Hallelujah, hallelujah, the Lord God Omnipotent reigns!"
And when comes the end and He shall have delivered up the kingdom to
God, even the Father, and God shall be All in All–then shall the
eternal echoes roll along the glories of the great Father God! The
glorious name of the one Jehovah shall, through all space and all
eternity, be magnified and the prayer of our once suffering but now
exalted Savior shall be fully answered, "Father, glorify Your name."

II. Now, Brothers and Sisters, we will use our text IN REFERENCE TO
OURSELVES. May the Holy Spirit direct

us in doing so. I pray that this text may be our prayer from this time
forth, "Father, glorify Your name." Have you, dear Hearers, ever prayed
this prayer? I trust I am addressing many to whom it is a very familiar
desire and yet I question if any here have ever presented it so
earnestly as those from whom it has been forced by suffering and grief.
God's birds often sing best in cages–at any rate, when they have been
loose a little while and their notes grow somewhat dull–He tunes their
pipes again if He puts them away awhile and clips their wings.

Now this text, as far as we are concerned, whenever we can use it,
indicates conflict ended. Sometimes we are in such a condition that we
do not know which way to turn. We are in great affliction. It may not
be so much outward trouble as distress of mind which is worst of all.
The water has leaked into the ship and that is worse than an ocean
outside. The vessel begins to fill. You use the pumps, but cannot keep
it afloat. At such times you cry, "What shall I do? What shall I say?
Where can I look? I am oppressed and overwhelmed."

But there is an end of the conflict when you turn round and cry,
"Father! Father!" A child may have lost its way and it may be sobbing
its heart out in its distress, but the moment it sees its father, it is
lost no longer–it has found its way and is at rest. Though there may
be no difference in your position, nor change in your circumstances,
yet if you catch a sight of your heavenly Father, it is enough–you are
a lost child no more. When you can pray, "Father, glorify Your name,"
then there is no more question about, "What shall I say?" You have said
the right thing and there let it end.

Now, Brothers and Sisters, concerning this next year upon which we are
entering, I hope it will be a year of happiness to you–I very
emphatically wish you all a Happy New Year–but nobody can be confident
that it will be a year free from trouble. On the contrary, you may be
pretty confident that it will not be so, for man is born to trouble as

the sparks fly upward! We have each, beloved Friends, some dear faces
in which we rejoice–may they long smile upon us! But remember that
each one of these may be an occasion of sorrow during the next year,
for we have neither an immortal child, nor an immortal husband, nor an
immortal wife, nor an immortal friend and, therefore, some of these may
die within the year.

Moreover the comforts with which we are surrounded may take to
themselves wings before another year shall fulfill its months. Earthly
joys are as if they were all made of snow–they melt even as the hoar
frost and are gone before we conclude our thanksgiving for their
coming. It may be you will have a year of drought and shortness of
bread–years lean and ill-favored may be your portion. Yes, and yet
more–perhaps during the year which has almost dawned, you may have to
gather up your feet in the bed and die to meet your father's God. Well
now, concerning this approaching year and its mournful possibilities,
shall we grow gloomy and desponding? Shall we wish we had never been
born or ask that we may die? By no means!

Shall we, on the other hand, grow frivolous and laugh at all things?
No, that were ill-becoming in heirs of God. What shall we do? We will
breathe this prayer, "Father, glorify Your name." That is to say, if I
must lose my property, glorify Your name by my poverty! If I must be
bereaved, glorify Your name in my sorrows! If I must die, glorify Your
name in my departure. Now, when you pray in that fashion, your conflict
is over! No outward fright nor inward fear remains if that prayer rises
from the heart! You have now cast aside all gloomy forebodings and you
can thoughtfully and placidly pursue your way into the unknown
tomorrow. Pass on, O caravan, into the trackless desert! Still proceed
into the wilderness of the future which no mortal eye has seen, for
yonder fiery cloudy pillar leads the way and all is well!

"Father, glorify Your name," is our pillar of cloud and, protected by
its shade, we shall not be struck by the heat of prosperity! "Father,
glorify Your name," is our pillar of fire by night–nor shall the
darkness of adversity destroy us, for the Lord shall be our light!
March on, you pilgrims, without a moment's delay because of fear. Tarry
not for a single instant, this being your banner and your watchword,
"Father, glorify Your name." Torturing doubts and forebodings of the
future all end when the glorious name is seen over all!

Secondly, our text breathes a spirit which is the surrender of self.
When a man can truly say, "Father, glorify Your name," he begins to
understand that saying of our Savior concerning the corn of wheat
falling into the ground and dying, for that prayer means, "Lord, do
what You will with me. I will make no stipulations, but leave all to
You. Remember that I am dust and deal tenderly with me, but still
glorify Your name. Do not spare me, if thereby You would be less
glorious. Act not according to my foolish wishes or childish desires,
but glorify Your name in me by any means and by all means."

The prayer means I am willing to be made nothing of so that God's will
may be done. I am willing to be as one dead and buried, forgotten and
unknown if God may be magnified. I am ready to be buried and sown
because I believe that this is the way by which I shall grow and bring
forth fruit to God's praise. This surrender includes obedient service,
for our great Master goes on to say, "If any man serves Me, let him
follow Me." True self-renunciation shows itself in the obedient
imitation of Christ. "Father, glorify Your name" means waiting the
Lord's bidding and running in His ways.

If the petition is written out at length it runs thus–"Help me to copy
my Savior's example. Help me to follow in His blessed footsteps! This
is my desire–passively to honor my heavenly Father by bearing His will
and actively to glorify Him by doing His will. Lord, help me to do both
of these and never let me forget that I am not my own, but wholly my
Lord's." The prayer appears to me to be most properly used when it is
made a personal one–"Father, glorify Your name in me. I am the
recipient of so much mercy, get some glory out of me, I pray You."

Beloved, I think you must have noticed in this world that the man who
really lives is the man who more than his fellows has learned to live
for others and for God. You do not care for the preacher whose
objective is to display his own powers. You go away dissatisfied after
hearing his bravest orations! But if any man shall only desire your
soul's good and God's Glory, you will put up with much eccentricity
from him and bear with many infirmities because, instinctively, you
love and trust the man who forgets himself.

Now, what you see in preachers I beg you to try and consider in
yourselves. If any of you are living for yourselves, you will not be
loveable. If you even act that your ambition is to be loved, you will
miss your mark. But if you will love for love's sake. If you will seek
to be Christ-like. If you will lay yourselves out to glorify God, to
increase His kingdom and to bless your fellow men, you will live in the
highest and noblest sense! Seek not your own greatness, but labor to

make Jesus great and you will live! Christians live by dying! Kill
self, and Christ shall live in you and so shall you, yourself, most
truly live!

The way upward in true life and honor is to go downward in
self-humiliation. Renounce all and you shall be rich! Have nothing and
you shall have all things! Try to be something and you shall be
nothing! Be nothing and you shall live! That is the great lesson which
Jesus would teach us, but which we are slow to learn. "Father, glorify
Your name" means let the corn of wheat be buried out of sight to lose
itself in its outgrowth. O Self, you are a dead thing–may you be laid
deep in the sepulcher! You rotten carcass, for such you have become
since Jesus died for me–you are an offense to me! Away with you! Do
not poison my life, mar my motives, spoil my intents, hinder my
self-denials and defile the chastity of my heart! You prompt me to make
provision for the flesh–away with you, away with you! "Father, glorify
Your name."

In our text, in the next place, a new care is paramount. The man has
forgotten self and self is buried like a grain of wheat and now he
begins to care for God's Glory. His cry is, "Father, glorify Your
name." Oh, if you can get rid of self you will feel in your heart a
daily intensified longing to have the name of God glorified! Do you not
feel, sometimes, sick at heart as you gaze upon this present
generation? My soul is often pained within me when I see how everything
is out of joint. Everything is now denied which from our youth we have
regarded as the sacred Truth of God! The Infallibility of Scripture is
denied! The authenticity of one portion is challenged and the
Inspiration of another called in question–and the good old Book is
torn to pieces by blind critics!

Eternal Truths of God, against which only blaspheming infidels used to
speak, are now questioned by professed ministers of Christ! Doctrines
which our sires never thought of doubting are now trailed in the mire
and that by those who profess to be teachers of God's Word! "Father,
glorify Your name" comes leaping to our lips because it is burning in
our heart–burning there in holy wrath against the treachery of men!
Indignation arises from our jealousy and our eager spirits cry, "Oh,
that God would glorify His name!" To many of us this is our heaviest
care. Brethren, we desire the Lord to glorify that name in ourselves by
preventing our impatience in suffering and keeping us from faintness in
labor. We beseech our heavenly Father to destroy our selfishness, to
cast out our pride and to overcome every evil propensity which would
prevent His getting glory out of us!

Our soul is even as the clusters of the vine which belong to the owner
of the vineyard–our whole nature is as the fruit for which the great
Vinedresser waits. Here, fling me into the wine vat! Let every cluster
and every grape be gathered and pressed! Great Lord, cast me into the
wine vat of Your service and then squeeze out of me every drop of the
essence of life! Let my whole soul flow forth to You! Let the ruddy
juice burst forth on the right and on the left–and when the first rich
liquid of my life is gone–then even to the utmost let me be pressed
till the last drop of the living juice which may bring glory to You
shall have come forth! Fling all away that will not turn into Your
Glory, but use all that can be used–glorify Your name to the utmost!

O great Father of my spirit, the desire of Your child is to glorify
You, for if You are a father you should have honor from Your children.
"Honor your father" is the first commandment with promise and it is
precious in our eyes. From our inmost hearts we pray, "Our Father which
are in Heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come." Now, see how
that desire is divested of all sorrow by our casting it upon God. The
prayer is not, "Father, help me to glorify Your name," but it is,
"Father, glorify Your name." Your glory is too much for me to
fathom–glorify Yourself! In Your Providence, so arrange my position
and condition as to glorify Your name! By Your Grace, so sustain me and
sanctify me that I may glorify You. I cannot do it, but You can and the
desire which I was glad to feel, I am glad, also, to bring by faith to
You. "Father, glorify Your name."

And now, Brothers and Sisters, if you can pray in that fashion, your
confidence will come back to you. If you have been greatly distracted,
calm peace will visit you again, for now you will say, "I will bear the
Lord's will and will be content. I cannot quarrel with my Master's
dealings any more, for I have asked Him to glorify His name and as I
know that He is doing it, I cannot murmur. How can I struggle against
that which is really glorifying my Father?" Your heart will cease to
question and to quake–and nestle down beneath the eternal wings in
deep and happy peace! Filled with patience, you will take the cup which
stood untasted and grasp it with willingness if not with eagerness. "It
is to glorify God," you will say–"every drop of this cup is for His
Glory"–and therefore you will put the chalice to your lips and drink
straight on, and on, and on till you have drained the last drop and
find that "It is finished."

I know you will not fail to do this if your soul has really felt the
power of this prayer–"Father, glorify Your name." Why, sometimes it
seems to me that it were worth while to pray to be burned at a stake to
the death, if by martyrdom we could glorify God! I do not desire such a
death and yet, from one point of view, I have often envied martyrs
those ruby crowns which they cast at the feet of their dear Lord. How
honorable in them to have glorified God by so much suffering! Surely he
is the grandest creature God has made who glorifies Him most. And who
is he? Not the tall archangel of whom Milton sings, whose wand might
make a mast for some great admiral, but the most insignificant nobody
who has long laid upon her bed of weariness and there has praised the
Lord by perfect patience!

She, though apparently the least, may be the greatest glorifier of the
Father! Perhaps the tiniest creature God has made will bring Him more
glory than leviathan that makes the deep to be hoary and causes the
waters to boil like in a pot. That which most thoroughly yields itself
to God. That which most completely annihilates itself into the eternal
All–is most glorifying to Him! May God in His infinite mercy bring us
to this self-annihilation, this desire only for His Glory! Strive after
it, Beloved, by the power of the Holy Spirit!

One word to those of you who will have no sympathy with this sermon.
You know that hymn in which the enquirer asks?–

"Iff find Him, if I follow, What reward is here?"

and the answer is–

"Many a labor, Many a sorrow, Many a tear."

Very discouraging this, is it not? You who look for mirth and selfish
pleasure turn away in disgust. Yet the lines are very true. Jesus
Himself said, "Except a man take up his cross and follow Me, he cannot
be My disciple." But mark you, the day will come when those who were
willing to suffer for Christ will be counted to be the only sane
persons who ever lived! And when those who looked to the main chance
and cared for self–and disregarded God, faith in Christ and love for
their fellow men–will be regarded as having been mere idiots and
drivellers!

Listen to this parable! It is spring time and yonder is a farmer
walking the furrows and sowing his seed. Those who know nothing of
farming mock him for his wastefulness with his grain. He is far too
wasteful of good food. He is the wise man, is he not, who locks his
granary door and preserves his corn? Why should he go and fling it into
the cold, thankless ground? Wait till the end of June when the bloom is
on the wheat! Wait till July and August have brought the months of
harvest and you shall see that he who gave his wheat to die shall,
amidst the shouts of, "Harvest home!" be reckoned to have been wise and
prudent!

And he who kept the door of his granary bolted through his sluggishness
and selfishness shall then be seen to be only fit for Bedlam, for he
has no harvest except a mass of tangled weeds. Scatter, scatter your
lives for others! Give yourselves up to Jesus! He who in this respect
hates his life shall find it, but he that keeps it shall lose it!
Still, O you ungodly, if you live to yourselves, God will yet have
Glory and even Glory out of you! You shall not rob Him of His honor,
nor tear a jewel from His throne! God will be glorified by you and in
you in some form or other. Your everlasting lamentations, because of
your great selfish mistakes, will vindicate the wisdom and the justice
of God to all eternity!

In a future state, though you gnaw the flesh of your right arms for
very anguish and sorrow and passion, you will be obliged to acknowledge
that the warnings of the Gospel were true and that God is just! Your
well-deserved griefs shall help to make up the burden of that song
which shall eternally celebrate the wisdom and goodness of God, for you
will have to confess that Jesus was right and you were wrong! You will
have to admit that to believe in Him and to be His disciple was the
right thing–and that to despise Him and to live unto yourself was what
He told you it would be– destruction and ruin. God grant His blessing
for Jesus' sake. Amen.