Saving Faith
Delivered on Lord's Day Morning, March 15, 1874, by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
Thy faith hath saved thee.'Luke 7:50; and Luke 18:42.
I do not remember that this expression is found anywhere else in the
Word of God. It is found in these two places in the Gospel by Luke, but
not in any other Gospel. Luke also gives us in two other places a
kindred, and almost identical expression, Thy faith hath made thee
whole.' This you will find used in reference to the woman whose issue
of blood had been staunched (Luke 8:48), and in connection with that
one of the ten lepers who returned to praise the Saviour for the cure
he had received (Luke 17:19). You will find the expression, Thy faith
hath made thee whole' once in Matthew and twice in Mark, but you find
it twice in Luke, and together therewith the twice repeated words of
our text, Thy faith hath saved thee.' Are we wrong in supposing that
the long intercourse of Luke with the apostle Paul led him not only to
receive the great doctrine of justification by faith which Paul so
plainly taught, and to attach to faith that high importance which Paul
always did, but also to have a peculiar memory for those expressions
which were used by the Saviour, in which faith was manifestly honoured
to a very high degree. Albeit Luke would not have written anything
which was not true for the sake of maintaining the grand doctrine so
clearly taught by the apostle, yet I think his full conviction of it
would help to recall to his memory more vividly those words of the Lord
Jesus from which it could be more clearly learned or illustrated. Be
that as it may, we know that Luke was inspired, and that he has written
neither more nor less than what the Saviour actually said, and hence we
may be quite sure that the expression, Thy faith hath saved thee,' fell
from the Redeemer's lips, and we are bound to accept it as pure
unquestionable truth, and we may repeat it ourselves without fear of
misleading others, or trenching upon any other truth. I mention this
because the other day I heard an earnest friend say that faith did not
save us, at which announcement I was rather surprised. The brother, it
is true, qualified the expression, and showed that he meant to make it
clear that Jesus saved us, and not our own act of faith. I agreed with
what he meant, but not with what he said, for he had no right to use an
expression which was in flat contradiction to the distinct declaration
of the Saviour, Thy faith hath saved thee.' We are not to strain any
expression to make it mean more than the speaker intended, and it is
well to guard words from being misunderstood; but on the other hand, we
may not quite go so far as absolutely to negative a declaration of the
Lord himself, however we may mean to qualify it. It is to be qualified
if you like, but it is not to be contradicted, for there it stands, Thy
faith hath saved thee.' Now we shall this morning, by God's help,
inquire what was it that saved the two persons whose history will come
before us? It was their faith. Our second inquiry will be what kind of
faith was it which saved them? and then thirdly, what does this teach
us in reference to faith?
I. WHAT WAS IT THAT SAVED the two persons whose history we are about to
consider?
In the penitent woman's case, her great sins were forgiven her and she
became a woman of extraordinary love: she loved much, for she had much
forgiven. I feel, in thinking of her, something like an eminent father
of the church who said, This narrative is not one which I can well
preach upon; I had far rather weep over it in secret.' That woman's
tears, that woman's unbraided tresses wiping the Saviour's feet, her
coming so near to her Lord in such company, facing such proud
cavillers, with such fond and resolute intent of doing honour to Jesus;
verily, among those that have loved the Saviour, there hath not lived a
greater than this woman who was a sinner. Yet for all that Jesus did
not say to her, Thy love hath saved thee.' Love is a golden apple of
the tree of which faith is the root, and the Saviour took care not to
ascribe to the fruit that which belongs only to the root. This loving
woman was also right notable for her repentance. Mark ye well those
tears. Those were no tears of sentimental emotion, but a rain of holy
heart-sorrow for sin. She had been a sinner and she knew it; she
remembered well her multitude of iniquities, and she felt each sin
deserved a tear, and there she stood weeping herself away, because she
had offended her dear Lord. Yet it is not said, Thy repentance hath
saved thee.' Her being saved caused her repentance, but repentance did
not save her. Sorrow for sin is an early token of grace within the
heart, yet it is nowhere said, Thy sorrow for sin hath saved thee.' She
was a woman of great humility. She came behind the Lord and washed his
feet, as though she felt herself only able to be a menial servant to
perform works of drudgery, and to find a pleasure in so serving her
Lord. Her reverence for him had reached a very high point; she regarded
him as a king, and she did what has sometimes been done for monarchs by
zealous subjects'she kissed the feet of her heart's Lord, who well
deserved the homage. Her loyal reverence led her to kiss the feet of
her Lord, the Sovereign of her soul, but I do not find that Jesus said,
Thy humility hath saved thee;' or that he said, Thy reverence hath
saved thee;' but he put the crown upon the head of her faith, and said
expressly, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.'
In the case of the blind man to whom my second text refers'this man was
notable for his earnestness; he cried, and cried aloud, Son of David,
have mercy on me.' He was notable for his importunity, for they who
would have silenced him rebuked him in vain; he cried so much the more,
Son of David, have mercy on me.' But I do not discover that Christ
attributed his salvation to his prayers, earnest and importunate though
they were. It is not written, Thy prayers have saved thee'; it is
written, Thy faith hath saved thee.' He was a man of considerable and
clear knowledge, and he had a distinct apprehension of the true
character of Christ: he scorned to call him Jesus of Nazareth, as the
crowd did, but he proclaimed him Son of David,' and in the presence of
that throng he dared avow his full conviction that the humble man,
dressed in a peasant's garb, who was threading his way through the
throng, was none other than the royal heir of the royal line of Judah,
and was indeed the fulfiller of the type of David, the expected
Messiah, the King of the Jews, the Son of David. Yet I do not find that
Jesus attributed his salvation to his knowledge, to his clear
apprehension, or to his distinct avowal of his Messiahship; but he said
to him, Thy faith hath saved thee,' laying the entire stress of his
salvation upon his faith.
This being so in both cases, we are led to ask, what is the reason for
it? What is the reason why in every case, in every man that is saved,
faith is the great instrument of salvation? Is it not first because God
has a right to choose what way of salvation he pleases, and he has
chosen that men should be saved, not by their works, but by their faith
in his dear Son? God has a right to give his mercy to whom he pleases;
he has a right to give it when he pleases; he has a right to give it in
what mode he pleases; and know ye this, O sons of men, that the decree
of heaven is immutable, and standeth fast forever''He that believeth
and is baptised shall be saved; he that believeth not shall be damned.'
To this there shall be no exception; Jehovah has made the rule and it
shall stand. If thou wouldst have salvation, believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and thou shalt be saved'; but if not, salvation is utterly
impossible to thee. This is the appointed way; follow it, and it leads
to heaven; refuse it, and thou must perish. This is God's sovereign
determination, He that believeth on him is not condemned, but he that
believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed on the
Son of God.' Jehovah's will be done. If this be his method of grace,
let us not kick against it. If he determines that faith shall save, so
let it be; only, Good Master, create and increase our faith.
But while I attribute this to the sovereign choice of God, I do see,
for Scripture plainly indicates it, a reason in the nature of things
why faith should thus have been selected. The apostle tells us it is of
faith that it might be of grace. If the condition of salvation had been
either feeling or working, then, such is the depravity of our nature,
that we should inevitably have attributed the merit of salvation to the
working or the feeling. We should have claimed something whereof to
glory. It matters not how low the condition may have been, man would
have still considered that there was something required of him, that
something came from him, and that, therefore, he might take some credit
to himself. But no man, unless he be demented, ever claims credit for
believing the truth. If he hears that which convinces him, he is
convinced; and if he be persuaded, he is persuaded; but he feels that
it could not well be otherwise. He attributes the effect to the truth
and the influence used. He does not go about and boast because he
believes what is so clear to him that he cannot doubt it. If he did so
boast of spiritual faith, all thinking men would say at once, Wherefore
dost thou boast in the fact of having believed, and especially when
this believing would never have been thine if it had not been for the
force of the truth which convinced thee, and the working of the Spirit
of God which constrained thee to believe?' Faith is chosen by Christ to
wear the crown of salvation because'let me contradict myself'it refuses
to wear the crown. It was Christ that saved the penitent woman, it was
Christ that saved that blind beggar, but he takes the crown from off
his own head, so dear is faith to him, and he puts the diadem upon the
head of faith and says, Thy faith hath saved thee,' because he is
absolutely certain that faith will never take the glory to herself, but
will again lay the crown at the pierced feet, and say, Not unto myself
be glory, for thou hast done it; thou art the Saviour, and thou alone.'
In order, then, to illustrate and to protect the interests of sovereign
grace, and to shut out all vain glorying, God has been pleased to make
the way of salvation to be by faith, and by no other means.
Nor is this all. It is clear to every one who chooses to think that in
order to the renewal of the heart, which is the chief part of
salvation, it is well to begin with the faith; because faith once
rightly exercised becomes the mainspring of the entire nature. The man
believes that he is forgiven. What then? He feels gratitude to him who
has pardoned him. Feeling gratitude, it is but natural that he should
hate that which displeases his Saviour, and should love intensely that
which is pleasing to him who saved him, so that faith operates upon the
entire nature, and becomes the instrument in the hand of the
regenerating Spirit by which all the faculties of the soul are put into
the right condition. As a man thinketh in his heart so is he, but his
thinkings come out of his believings; if he be put right in his
believings, then his understanding will operate upon his affections,
and all the other powers of his manhood, and old things will pass away,
all things will become new through the wonderful effect of the faith,
which is of the operation of God. Faith works by love, and through love
it purifies the soul, and the man becomes a new creature. See ye then
the wisdom of God? He may choose what way he will, but he chooses a way
which at once guards his grace from our felonious boastings, and on the
other hand produces in us a holiness which other wise never would have
been there.
Faith in salvation, however, is not the meritorious cause; nor is it in
any sense the salvation itself. Faith saves us just as the mouth saves
from hunger. If we be hungry, bread is the real cure for hunger, but
still it would be right to say that eating removes hunger, seeing that
the bread itself could not benefit us, unless the mouth should eat it.
Faith is the soul's mouth, whereby the hunger of the heart is removed.
Christ also is the brazen serpent lifted up; all the healing virtue is
in him; yet no healing virtue comes out of the brazen serpent to any
who will not look; so that the looking is rightly considered to be the
act which saves. True, in the deepest sense it is Christ uplifted who
saves, to him be all the glory; but without looking to him ye cannot be
saved, so that
There is life in a look,'
as well as life in the Saviour to whom you look. Nothing is yours until
you appropriate it. If you be enriched, the thing appropriated enriches
you; yet it is not incorrect but strictly right to say it is the
appropriation of the blessing which makes you rich. Faith is the hand
of the soul. Stretched out, it lays hold of the salvation of Christ,
and so by faith we are saved. Thy faith hath saved thee.' I need not
dwell longer on that point. It is self-evident from the text that faith
is the great means of salvation.
II. WHAT KIND OF FAITH WAS IT that saved these people? I will mention,
first, the essential agreements; and then, secondly, the differentia,
or the points in which this faith differed in its external
manifestations in the two cases.
In the instances of the penitent woman and the blind beggar, their
faith was fixed alone in Jesus. You cannot discover anything floating
in their faith in Jesus which adulterated it; it was unmixed faith in
him. the woman pressed forward to him, her tears fell on him; her
ointment was for him; her unloosed tresses were a towel for his; feet
she cared for no one else, not even for the disciples whom she
respected for his sake; her whole spirit and soul were absorbed in him.
He could save her; he could blot out her sins. She believed him; she
did it unto him. The same was the case with that blind man. He had no
thought of any ceremonies to be performed by priests; he had no idea of
any medicine which might be given him by physicians. His cry was, Son
of David, Son of David.' The only notice he took of others was to
disregard them, and still to cry, Son of David, Son of David.' What
wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?' was the Lord's question, and it
answered to the desire of his soul, for he knew that if anything were
done it must be done by the Son of David. It is essential that our
faith must rest alone on Jesus. Mix anything with Christ, and you are
undone. If your faith shall stand with one foot upon the rock of his
merits, and the other foot upon the sand of your own duties, it will
fall, and great will be the fall thereof. Build wholly on the rock, for
if so much as a corner of the edifice shall rest on anything beside, it
will ensure the ruin of the whole:'
<>'None but Jesus, none but Jesus
Can do helpless sinners good.'
All true faith is alike in this respect.
The faith of these two was alike in its confession of unworthiness.
What meant her standing behind? What meant her tears, her everflowing
tears, but that she felt unworthy to draw near to Jesus? And what meant
the beggar's cry, Have mercy on me?' Note the stress he lays upon it.
Have mercy on me.' He does not claim the cure by merit, nor ask it as a
reward. To mercy he appealed. Now I care not whose faith it is, whether
it be that of David in his bitter cries of the fifty-first Psalm, or
whether it be that of Paul in his highest exaltation upon being without
condemnation through Christ, there is always in connection with true
faith a thorough and deep sense that it is mercy, mercy alone, which
saves us from the wrath to come. Dear hearer, do not deceive yourself.
Faith and boasting are as opposite to one another as the two poles. If
you come before Christ with your righteousness in your hand, you come
without faith; but if you come with faith you must also come with
confession of sin, for true faith always walks hand in hand with a deep
sense of guiltiness before the Most High. This is so in every case.
Their faith was alike, moreover, in defying and conquering opposition.
Little do we know the inward struggles of the penitent as she crossed
the threshold of Simon's house. He will repel thee,' the stern, cold
Pharisee will say, Get thee gone, thou strumpet; how darest thou defile
the doors of honest men.' But whatever may happen she passes through
the door, she comes to where the feet of the Saviour are stretched out
towards the entrance as he is reclining at the table, and there she
stands. Simon glanced at her: he thought the glance would wither her,
but her love to Christ was too well rooted to be withered by him. No
doubt he made many signs of his displeasure, and showed that he was
horrified at such a creature being anywhere near him, but she took no
notice of him. Her Lord was there, and she felt safe. Timid as a dove,
she trembled not while he was near; but she returned no defiant glances
for Simon's haughty looks; her eyes were occupied with weeping. She did
not turn aside to demand an explanation of his unkind motions, for her
lips were all engrossed with kissing those dear feet. Her Lord, her
Lord, was all to her. She overcame through faith in him, and held her
ground, and did not leave the house till he dismissed her with Go in
peace.'
It was the same with the blind man. He said, Son of David, have mercy
on me.' They cried, Hush! Why these clamours, blind beggar? His
eloquence is music; do not interrupt him. Never man spake as he is
speaking. Every tone rings like the harps of the angels. Hush! How
darest thou spoil his discourse?' But over and above them all went up
the importunate prayer, Son of David, have mercy upon me,' and he
prevailed. All true faith is opposed. If thy faith be never tried it is
not born of the race of the church militant. This is the victory that
overcometh the world, even our faith,' but it is indicated in that very
declaration that there must be something to overcome, and that faith
must wage war for its existence.
Once more, the faith of these two persons was alike in being openly
avowed. I will not say that the avowal took the same form in both, for
it did not; but still it was equally open. There is the Saviour, and
there comes the weeping penitent. She loves him. Is she ashamed to say
so? It may bring her reproach; it will certainly rake up the old
reproaches against her, for she has been a sinner. Never mind what she
has been, nor who may be present to see her. She loves her Lord, and
she will show it. She will bring the ointment and she will anoint his
feet, even in the presence of Pharisees, Pharisees who would say, Is
this one of the disciples of Christ? A pretty convert to boast of! A
fine conquest this, for his kingdom! A harlot becomes a disciple! What
next and what next?' She must have known and felt all that, but still
there was no concealment. She loved her Lord, and she would avow it,
and so in the very house of the Pharisee, there being no other
opportunity so convenient, she comes forward, and without words, but
with actions far more eloquent than words, she says, I love him. These
tears shall show it; this ointment shall diffuse the knowledge of it,
as its sweet perfume fills the room; and every lock of my hair shall be
a witness that I am my Lord's and he is mine.' She avowed her faith.
And so did the blind man. He did not sit there and say, I know he is
the Son of David, but I must not say it.' They said, some of them
contemptuously, and others indifferently, It is Jesus of Nazareth.' But
he will not have it so. Thou Son of David,' saith he; and loud above
their noise I hear him cry, like a herald proclaiming the King, Son of
David.' Why, sirs, it seems to me he was exalted to a high office: he
became the herald of the King, and proclaimed him, and this belongs to
a high officer of State in our country. The blind beggar showed great
decision and courage. He cried in effect, Son of David thou art; Son of
David I proclaim thee; Son of David thou shalt be proclaimed, whoever
may gainsay it; only turn thine eyes and have mercy upon me.' Are there
any of you here who have a faith in Christ which you are ashamed of? I
also am ashamed of you, and so also will Christ be ashamed of you when
he cometh in the glory of his Father and all his holy angels with him.
Ashamed to claim that you are honest? Then methinks you must live in
bad company, where to be a rogue is to be famous; and if you are
ashamed to say, I love my Lord,' methinks you are courting the
friendship of Christ's enemies, and what can you be but an enemy
yourself: If you love him, say it. Put on your Master's regimentals,
enlist in his army, and come forward and declare, As for me and my
house, we will serve the Lord.' Their faith was alike then in these
four particulars, it was fixed alone on him, it was accompanied with a
sense of unworthiness, it struggled and conquered opposition, and it
openly declared itself before all comers.
By your patience I shall now try to show the differences between the
same faith as to its manifestations. First, the woman's faith acted
like a woman's faith. She showed tender love, and the affections are
the glory and the strength of women. They were certainly such in her.
Her love was intense, womanly love, and she poured it out upon the
Saviour. The man's faith acted like a man's in its determination and
strength. He persisted in crying, Thou Son of David.' There was as much
that was masculine about his faith as there was of the feminine in the
penitent's faith, and everything should be in its order and after its
season. It would not have been meet for the woman's voice to be heard
so boldly above the crowd; it would have seemed out of place for a
man's tears to have been falling upon the Saviour's feet. Either one or
the other might have been justifiable, but they would not have been
equally suitable. But now they are as suitable as they are excellent.
The woman acts as a godly woman should. The man like a godly man. Never
let us measure ourselves by other people. Do not, my brother, say, I
could not shed tears.' Who asked thee to do so? A man's tears are
mostly within, and so let them be: it is ours to use other modes of
showing our love. And, my sister, do not say, I could not act as a
herald and publicly proclaim the King.' I doubt not thou couldest do so
if there were need, but thy tears in secret, and those wordless tokens
of love to Jesus which thou are rendering, are not less acceptable
because they are not the same as a man would give. Nay, they are the
better because they are more suitable to thee. Do not think that all
the flowers of God's garden must bloom in the same colour or shed the
same perfume.
Notice next that the woman acted like a woman who had been a sinner.
What more meet than tears? What more fitting place for her than at the
Saviour's feet? She had been a sinner, she acts like a sinner; but the
man who had been a beggar acted like a beggar. What does a beggar do
but clamour for alms? Did he not beg gloriously? Never one plied the
trade more earnestly than he. Son of David,' said he, have mercy on
me.' I should not have liked to have seen the beggar sitting there
weeping; nor to have heard the penitent woman shouting. Neither would
have been natural or seemly. Faith works according to the condition,
circumstances, sex, or ability of the person in whom it lives, and it
best shows itself in its own form, not in an artificial manner, but in
the natural outflow of the heart.
Observe, also, that the woman did not speak. There is something very
beautiful in the golden silence of the woman, which was richer than her
silver speech would have been. But the man was not silent; he spoke; he
spoke out, and his words were excellent. I venture to say that the
woman's silence spoke as powerfully as the man's voice. Of the two I
think I find more eloquence in the tears bedewing, and unbraided hair
wiping the Saviour's feet, than in the cry, Son of David, have mercy on
me.' Yet both forms of expression were equally good, the silence best
in the woman with her tears, and the speech best in the man with his
confident trust in Christ. Do not think it necessary, dear friend, in
order to serve, to do other people's work. What thine own hand findeth
to do, do it with thy might. If you think you can never honour Christ
till you enter a pulpit, it may be just possible that you will
afterwards honour him best by getting out of it as quickly as you can.
There have been persons well qualified to adorn the religion of Christ
with a lapstone on their lap who have thought it necessary to mount a
pulpit, and in that position have been a hindrance to Christ and his
gospel. Sister, there is a sphere for you; keep to it, let none push
you out of it; but do not think there is nothing else to do except the
work which some other woman does. God has called her, let her follow
God's voice; he calls you in another direction, follow his voice
thither. You will be most like that other excellent woman when you are
most different from her: I mean, you will be most truly obedient to
Christ, as she is, if you pursue quite another path.
There was a difference, again, in this. The woman gave'she brought her
ointment. The man did the opposite'he begged. There are various ways of
showing love to Christ, which are equally excellent tokens of faith. To
give him of her ointment, and give him of her tears, and give him the
accommodation of her hair, was well; it showed her faith, which worked
by love: to give nothing, for the beggar had nothing to give, but
simply to honour Christ by appealing to his bounty and his royal power,
was best in the beggar. I can commend neither above the other, for I
doubt not that both the penitent and the beggar gave Christ their whole
heart, and what more does Jesus ask for from any one?
The thoughts of the woman and the thoughts of the beggar were different
too. Her thoughts were mainly about the past, and her sins'hence her
tears. To be forgiven, that was her point. His thoughts were mainly
about the present, and did not so much concern his sin as his
deficiency, infirmity, and inability, and so he came with different
thoughts. I do not doubt that he thought of sin, as I dare say she also
thought of infirmity; but in her case the thought of sin was uppermost,
and hence the tears; in his the infirmity was uppermost, and hence the
prayer, Lord, that I might receive my sight.' Do not, then, compare
your experience with that of another. God is a God of wonderful
variety. The painter who repeats himself in many pictures has a paucity
of conception, but the master artist scarcely ever sketches the same
thing a second time. There is a boundless variety in genius, and God
who transcends all the genius of men, creates an infinite variety in
the works of his grace. Look not, therefore, for likeness everywhere.
The woman, it is said, loved much, and she proved her love by her acts;
but the man loved much too, and showed his love by actions which were
most admirable, for he followed Jesus in the way, glorifying God. Yet
they were different actions. I do not find that he brought any box of
ointment, or anointed Christ's feet, neither do I find that she
literally followed Christ in the way, though no doubt she followed him
in the spirit; neither did she with a loud voice glorify God as the
restored blind beggar did. There are differences of operation, but the
same Lord; there are differences of capacity and differences of
calling, and by this reflection I hope you will be enabled to deliver
yourselves from the fault of judging one by another, and that you will
look for the same faith, but not for the same development of it.
So interesting is this subject that I want you to follow me while I
very rapidly sketch the woman's case, and then the man's, not
mentioning the differences one by one, but allowing the two pictures to
impress themselves separately upon your minds.
Observe this woman. What a strange compound she was. She was
consciously unworthy, and therefore she wept, yet she drew very near to
Jesus. Her acts were those of nearness and communion; she washed his
feet with her tears, she wiped them with the hairs of her head, and
meanwhile she kissed them again and again. She hath not ceased,' said
Christ, to kiss my feet.' A sense of unworthiness, and the enjoyment of
communion, were mixed together. Oh, divine faith which blends the two!
She was shamefaced, yet was she very bold. She dared not look the
Master in the face as yet; she approached him from behind; yet she
dared face Simon, and remain in his room, whether he frowned or no. I
have known some who have blushed in the face of Christ who would not
have blushed before a judge, nor at the stake, if they had been dragged
there for Christ's sake. Such a woman was Anne Askew, humble before her
Master, but like a lioness before the foes of God.
The penitent woman wept, she was a mourner, yet she had a deep joy; I
know she had, for every kiss meant joy. Every time she lifted that
blessed foot, and kissed it, her heart leaped with the transport of
love. Her heart knew bitterness for sin, but it knew also the sweetness
of pardon. What a mixture! Faith made the compound. She was humble,
never one more so; yet see how she takes upon herself to deal with the
King himself. Brethren, you and I are satisfied, and well we may be, if
we may wash the saints' feet, but she was not. Oh, the courage of this
woman! She will pass through the outer court, and get right to the
King's own throne, and there pay her homage, in her own person, to his
person, and wash the feet of the wonderful, the Counsellor, the mighty
God. I know not that an angel ever performed such suit and service, and
therefore this woman takes preeminence as having done for Jesus what no
other being ever did. I have said that she was silent, and yet she
spake; I will add, she was despised, but Christ set her high in honour,
and made Simon, who despised her, to feel little in her presence. I
will also add she was a great sinner, but she was a great saint. Her
great sinnership, when pardoned, became the raw stuff out of which
great saints are made by the mighty power of God. Finally she was saved
by faith, so says the text, but if ever there was a case in which James
could not have said, Shall faith save thee?' and in which he must have
said, Here is one that shows her faith by her works,' it was the case
of this woman. There she is before you. Imitate her faith itself,
though you cannot actually copy her deeds.
Now look at the man. He was blind, but he could see a great deal more
than the Pharisees, who said they could see. Blind, but his inward
optics saw the king in his beauty, saw the splendour of his throne, and
he confessed it. He was a beggar, but he had a royal soul, and a strong
sovereign determination which was not to be put down. He had the kind
of mind which dwells in men who are princes among their fellows. He is
not to be stopped by disciples, nay, nor by apostles. He has begun to
pray, and pray he will till he obtains the boon he seeks. Note well
that what he knew he avowed, what he desired he pleaded for, and what
he needed he understood. Lord, that I might receive my sight;' he was
clear about his needs, and clear about the only person who could supply
them. What he asked for he expected, for when he was bidden to come he
evidently expected that his sight would be restored, for we are told by
another Evangelist that he cast away his beggar's cloak. He felt he
should never want to beg again. He was sure his eyes were about to be
opened. Lastly, what he received he was grateful for, for as soon as he
could walk without a guide he took Christ to be his guide, and followed
him in the way, glorifying him. Look on both pictures. May you have the
shadows and the lights of both, as far as they would tend to make you
also another and distinct picture by the selfsame artist, whose hand
alone can produce such wonders.
III. WHAT DOES THIS TEACH US IN REFERENCE TO FAITH? It teaches us first
that faith is all important. Do, I pray you, my hearers, see whether
you have the precious faith, the faith of God's elect. Remember there
are not many things in Scripture called precious, but there is the
precious blood, and there goes with it the precious faith. If you have
not that you are lost; if you have not that you are neither fit to live
nor fit to die; if you have not that, your eternal destiny will be
infinite despair; but if you have faith, though it be as a grain of
mustard seed, you are saved. Thy faith hath saved thee.'
Learn next that the main matter in faith is the person whom you
believe. I do not say in whom you believe. That would be true, but not
quite so scriptural an expression. Paul does not say, as I hear most
people quote it, I know in whom I have believed.' Faith believes
Christ. Your faith must recognise him as a person, and come to him as a
person, and rest not in his teaching merely, or his work only, but in
him. Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest.' A personal Saviour for sinners! Are you resting on him
alone? Do you believe him? You know the safety of the building depends
mainly upon the foundation, and if the foundation be not right, you may
build as you will, it will not last. Do you build, then, on Christ
alone? Inquire about that as a special point.
Observe next, that we must not expect exactly the same manifestation in
each convert. Let not the elders of the church expect it, let not
parents require it from their children; let not anxious friends look
for it; do not expect it in yourself. Biographies are very useful, but
they may become a snare. I must not judge that I am not a child of God
because I am not precisely like that good man whose life I have just
been reading. Am I resting in Christ? Do I believe him? Then it may be
the Lord's grace is striking out quite a different path for me from
that which has been trodden by my brother, that it may illustrate other
phases of its power, and show to principalities and powers the
exceeding riches of divine love.
And, lastly, the matter which sums up all is this, if we have faith in
Jesus we are saved, and ought not to talk or act as if there were any
question about it. THY FAITH HATH SAVED THEE.' Jesus says it. Granted,
you have faith in Christ, and it is certain that faith hath saved you.
Do not, therefore, go on talking and acting and feeling as if you were
not saved. I know a company of saved people who say every Sabbath,
Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable sinners'; but they are not
miserable sinners if they are saved, and for them to use such words is
to throw a slight upon the salvation which Christ has given them. If
they are saved sinners they ought to be rejoicing saints. What some say
others do not say, but they act as if it were so. They go about asking
God to give them the mercy they have already obtained, hoping one day
to receive what Christ assures them is already in their possession,
talking to others as if it were a matter of question whether they were
saved or not, when it cannot be a matter of question. Thy faith hath
saved thee.' Fancy the poor penitent woman turning round and saying to
the Saviour, Lord, I humbly hope that it is true.' There would have
been neither humility nor faith in such an expression. Imagine that
blind man, when Christ said, Thy faith hath saved thee,' saying I trust
that in future years it will be found to be so.' It would be a belying
at once of his own earnest character and of Christ's honesty of speech.
If thou hast believed, thou art saved. Do not talk as if thou wert not,
but now down from the willows take thy harp, and sing unto the Lord a
new song. I have noticed in many prayers a tendency to avoid speaking
as if facts were facts. I have heard this kind of expression, The Lord
hath done great things for us, whereof we desire to be glad.' The text
is, The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad;' and
if the Lord has done these great things for us our right is to be glad
about them, not to go with an infamous if' upon our lips before the
Lord who cannot lie. If ye are dealing with your fellow creatures,
suspect them, for they mostly deserve it; if ye are listening to their
promises, doubt them, for their promises go to be broken; but if ye are
dealing with your Lord and Master, never suspect him, for he is beyond
suspicion; never doubt his promises, for heaven and earth and hell
shall pass away, but not one jot or tittle of his word shall fail. I
claim for Christ that ye cast away forever all the talk which is made
up of buts,' and ifs,' and peradventures,' and I hope,' and I trust.'
You are in the presence of One who said, Verily, verily,' and meant
what he said, who is the Amen, the faithful and true witness.'
You would not spit in his face if he were here, yet your ifs' and buts'
are so much insult cast upon his truth. You would not scourge him, but
what do your doubts do but vex him and put him to shame? If he lies,
never believe him; if he speaks the truth, never doubt him. Then shall
ye know when ye have cast aside your wicked unbelief, that your faith
has saved you, and ye will go in peace.
PORTIONS OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON'Luke 7:36-50; 18:35-43.
HYMNS FROM OUR OWN HYMN BOOK''18 (Ver. 1.), 536, 586.
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