Poverty and Riches

Poverty and Riches

(No. 2364)

A SERMON INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S DAY, JUNE 10 1894.

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON THURSDAY EVENING, MARCH
22, 1888.

"For you know the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was
rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you, through His poverty,
might be rich," 2 Corinthians 8:9.

I AM very weary, tonight, having had day after day, almost without
cessation, to make a supreme effort to address large assemblies. I
felt, therefore, that the only subject that I could handle would be
some theme that was restful and did not require any great thought on
the part of the preacher or his hearers. I want to have a bath and rest
myself while I am speaking to you, and, perhaps, it may not hurt you,
either, for I doubt not that you often grow weary with daily cares. So
we shall have no difficult problem, no mysterious doctrine to consider
at this time, but shall only talk about things that we know.

The text begins, "For you know the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ." You
know this, for you believe it. You have no doubt, whatever, that there
was a wondrous graciousness in the heart of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Grace is an attribute of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Spirit–and you know that there was infinite Grace, favor, compassion,
in the heart of the Lord Jesus Christ–and it was that and not your
merits, which constrained Him to lay aside the royalties of Heaven and
endure the sufferings and the griefs of our mortality. "You know the
Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ."

You know this Grace, too, because you have learned to perceive the
outcome of it. You not only know it as a seed, but you know the blessed
flowers that have grown out of it because, in His Grace, He became poor
that you might be rich. And, in taking of those riches which He has
procured for you, you have not only drunk of His bitter soup, but you
have drunk of the spiced wine of His pomegranate, so that you now know
the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ by that which is the fruit and the
outcome of it.

I think that the Apostle here meant that we also know the Grace of our
Lord Jesus Christ through what He has done for us. We might have known,
as a matter of fact, that Jesus was gracious, but we could not have
seen it so as practically to know it if He, having been rich, had not
become poor, that we, through His poverty, might be rich. The way the
Apostle shows that Truth of God is just this. He was urging the
Corinthian Christians to liberality. They were a far richer community
than the Church at Philippi, but He tells them that the Churches of
Macedonia, out of their poverty, had often been generous to the poor
and he persuades these Corinthians, who were better off, not to be
behind the Philippi-ans.

After Paul had quoted this example to them, he felt that he had a far
stronger argument to fall back upon. He seemed to say, "How am I to
know your Grace except by your works? How am I to know that you have
Christ in your hearts except by what you give out of your gifts to help
your poorer friends?" He then gives this as the proof that we must see
Grace by the results it produces–"You know the Grace of our Lord Jesus
Christ by this fact, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He
became poor, that you, through His poverty, might be rich." The same
Law of God, that the Grace within must be manifest by the action
without, applies to Christ as well as to us. If He had not become poor
to make us rich, how would we have fully known His Grace? And if you
and I do not give of our substance, and of our talents, to the poor,
and to the cause of Christ, how shall we know and how shall others know
that there is any Grace at all within our hearts?

Beloved, as I have said before, I may say to you, again–you know the
Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ because you have not only heard it, but
you have seen it–you have tasted and handled the Grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ. Your hope

of Heaven lies in that Grace! Your daily comfort lies there. If Christ
were not gracious, you would be graceless. If you did not know His
Grace, you would have no Grace of your own, for certain–for it is from
Him, as from an ever-flowing fountain–that all the streams of Grace
come to you. Happy men and happy women if, as I read this text, "You
know the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ," you can each one say, "Yes, I
do know it, glory be to God!"

There are two things for me to talk about tonight. They are both very
simple and lie on the surface of the text. The first is, the poverty of
our Lord Jesus Christ. And the second is, the riches of His saints.

I. First, let us think of THE POVERTY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST–"Though
He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor."

This poverty was voluntarily undertaken for our sakes. There was no
need that Christ should be poor except for our sakes. Some persons are
born poor and it seems as if, with all their struggles, they could
never rise out of poverty. But of our Lord Jesus Christ it can truly be
said, "He was rich." Shall I take you back in thought to the glories of
the eternity when, as very God of very God, He dwelt in the bosom of
the Father? He was so rich that all He possessed was as nothing to Him.
He was not dependent upon any of the angels He had created, nor did He
rely for Glory upon any of the works of His hands. Truly, Heaven was
His abode, but He could have made ten thousand heavens if He had willed
to do so! All the greatest wonders He had ever made were but specimens
of what He could make. He had all possibility of inconceivable and
immeasurable wealth within His power, yet He laid aside all that,
denied Himself the power to enrich Himself, and came down to earth that
He might help us! His poverty was all voluntary–there was a necessity
laid upon Him, but the sole necessity was His own love. There was no
need, as far as He was concerned, that He should ever be poor–the only
need was because we were in need and He loved us so that He would
rescue us from poverty and make us eternally rich!

Our Lord's was also very emphatic poverty. I believe that it is quite
true that no one knows the pinch of poverty like a person who has once
been rich. It is your fallen emperor who has to beg his bread, who
knows what beggary is! It is the man who once possessed broad acres
who, at last, has to rent his lodging in a miserable attic, who knows
what poverty is! So was it with the Savior–He was emphatically rich.
You cannot press into the word, "rich," all that Jesus was–you have to
feel that it is a very poor word, even though it is rich, with which to
describe His heavenly condition. He was emphatically rich and so, when
He descended into poverty, it was poverty with an emphasis laid upon
it, the contrast was so great. The difference between the richest and
the poorest man is just nothing compared with the difference between
Christ in the Glory of His Godhead and Christ in His humiliation–the
stoop was altogether immeasurable! You cannot describe His riches and
you cannot describe His poverty. You have never had any idea of how
high He was as God and you can never imagine how low He stooped when He
cried, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"

His poverty, then, was voluntarily undertaken and it was emphasized by
its contrast to the riches He had before. Now let us try to examine
some of the details of this poverty.

First, this poverty of Christ was seen in His condition. It was great
poverty to Him to be a Man. Humanity is a poor thing when you set it in
comparison with the Deity. What a narrow space does man fill–but God
is Infinite. What little can man do–but God is Omnipotent. How little
does man know–but God is Omniscient. How confined is man to a single
spot–yet God is Omnipresent. I say not that Jesus ever ceased to be
God, but we must remember that He became Man and, in becoming Man, He
became poor in comparison with His condition as God. But then, as Man,
He was also a poor Man. He might have been born in marble halls,
swaying the scepter of an universal empire and, from His birth,
receiving the homage of all mankind. But instead of that, you know, He
was reputed to be the carpenter's Son, His mother was but a humble
Jewish maid and His birthplace was a stable–poor accommodation for the
Prince of the kings of the earth!

His early life was spent in a carpentry shop and afterwards His
companions were mostly poor fishermen. You do not find Him consorting
with the senators and philosophers, or great ones of the earth–He goes
from one lowly home to another. And for His maintenance He is dependent
upon the alms of His followers. Certain women ministered unto Him of
their substance. He was, all His life, familiar with poverty, so that
He could say, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have
nests, but the Son of Man has not where to lay His head." You remember
that passage which is broken up by our translators so as to make a
chapter begin where there should be no division? "Every man went unto
His own house. Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives," for He had not a
house–His only home was among the olive trees where He pleaded with
His God!

Then remember that Christ, while He was here, was a Servant. He was the
Servant of the Father. Though He counted it not robbery to be equal
with God, yet He took upon Himself the form of a Servant. He has been
well called, by the Latins, "Servus servorum," the Servant of servants.
And you see Him in that character when He rises from supper, lays aside
His garments, takes a towel and girds Himself–and pouring water into a
basin, begins to wash His disciples' feet. Well did He say, "I am among
you as He that serves." He, before whom the brightest seraph veils His
face and lies low in humble adoration, yet washes His disciples' feet!
You can understand, then, how in His condition He is numbered among the
poor.

Perhaps the poverty of Christ is seen more clearly as to His condition,
in His association, not only with poor disciples, but with the despised
of mankind. The Pharisees truly said, "This Man receives sinners and
eats with them." This was the occasion when Luke wrote, "Then drew near
unto Him all the publicans and sinners for to hear Him." He made
Himself their companion for their good, for He had come to seek and to
save that which was lost. He condescended to be among the very lowest,
no, He did not sometimes stoop to them, but He seemed to be always in
their midst, always raking in the mire to find the jewels that had been
lost there! So, Beloved, you will see that as a Man, a poor Man, a
Servant, and associating with the very lowest of men for their good,
Christ had become, indeed, poor in His condition.

The second point of His poverty was in His reputation. All Glory
belonged to Christ, the praises of all the heavenly host were gladly
given to Him, but He made Himself of no reputation. Often, while He was
here, men treated Him with all the scorn and contempt that they could
possibly display. Let me quote these words slowly, "Then did they spit
in His face." They blindfolded Him. They buffeted Him. They struck Him
with the palms of their hands, saying, "Prophesy unto us, Christ! Who
is he that struck You?" They called Him, "a gluttonous Man and a
winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." They took His
reputation from Him–some even went so far as to say that He worked His
miracles through Beelzebub, the prince of the devils! It was not
possible that they could degrade Him lower than they did! Their scorn
went to the very uttermost against this blessed and adorable Son of
God! Even those who were reputed to be good men, at times, thought
little of Him. His mother and His brothers and sisters tried to entrap
Him because they, evidently, judged that He was insane! And in the time
of His direst need, all His disciples fled from Him and left Him alone.
In His greatest extremity no man did Him homage, but everyone had an
ill word for Him. In this respect He was poor–He made Himself of no
reputation.

I do not know whether any of you ever had to do what has fallen to the
lot of some few–after standing in good repute among your
brethren–deliberately knowing what you were doing, to do that which
subjects you to misrepresentation and scorn, but to do it for the
Lord's sake and to suffer all the consequences without wincing. I can
tell you that it is a poverty, indeed, to a tender spirit to be bereft
of the respect which one has long enjoyed. Yet the Savior, out of love
of us, stripped Himself of every single vestment of honor that He had a
right to wear–and He became despised and rejected of men, a Man of
Sorrows, and acquainted with grief! This was a part of His
poverty–poverty of reputation.

Then, thirdly, there was a poverty in operation, for the Lord Jesus
Christ, in His own natural estate, was able to do anything that He
pleased. There was nothing which He wished to do which He could not do.
Did He but judge it right to create or to destroy, all was in His
power. But when He came to this earth, for our sakes He became poor. It
was necessary, then, for Him to put a restraint upon His own
Omnipotence. He is hungry, but it is a temptation of the Evil One which
suggests to Him that He should turn stones into bread. He is thirsty
and at a word from Him, the water would have leaped from the well! But
He has to beg from a woman of Samaria and say to her, "Give Me to
drink." He never works a miracle on His own behalf. He makes Himself as
poor as to His operations, as unable to help Himself, as the most
incapable among us! And this, mark you, by a continued determination of
His will that He would remain poor, for had He so determined, He could,
with but a wish, have summoned legions of angels to come from Heaven to
His assistance! How can I sufficiently admire this voluntary poverty of
operation? Our Lord Jesus Christ will restrict Himself to loss,
suffering and even death, when, naturally, He possesses the power to
deliver Himself from all these trials.

The next kind of poverty that I see in Christ is poverty in communion.
If a man were ever so poor, yet if he could always associate with
persons of education and refinement, supposing him to be a man of that
kind, poverty would be a small matter. "We cultivate," said the
Edinburgh students, "we cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal
porridge," and nobody seems to pity them! Nobody needs to pity
them–they are quite willing to take the porridge if they can get the
literature! If they can associate with men of thought and men of
standing, they have a feast of reason and have a flow of

soul–and they are content with a little oatmeal if that is their only
fare. But our Savior never consorted with anybody who could, for a
moment, be called His equal! He learned from no man. There was one
disciple whom Jesus loved–we can all tell why He loved John–because
John was the nearest to his Master. But what a long way down it was
from Jesus to John! It makes a man feel himself in an awful solitude
when he outgrows his fellows. You may pine for such a position, young
man, and long to reach the very highest peak of the mountain, but it is
cold up there and bleak, and lonely! I believe far greater enjoyment is
to be had when you are the equal of your fellow men and can associate
with them as such. But as for our Lord and Master, He seems always on
the pinnacle of the Temple or the summit of the mountain. I know that
in His condescension He is never there! He stoops to the people, but
still it is a stoop and, stooping, you know, is back-aching work. I
mean, it is heart-aching work to be always having to stoop and to have
nobody who is your comrade and associate.

Jesus shut Himself off from the grandest company that He might have
had, from the senate of the skies, from the assemblies of the perfect,
from the multitude of angels! The heavenly beings may come and go
casually with errands from on high, but, for the most part, Jesus is
here to associate with the sinful–His perfect mind to be in constant
contact with the ignorant–His trained and cultured and holy spirit to
be vexed by the frivolous and the fickle who cannot be depended upon.
What a poverty must the faithful, the just, the true, the wise Savior
have felt when even His disciples could not understand Him and when, as
He unveiled some of the deeper Truths of God, He had come to reveal,
"many of His disciples went back and walked no more with Him." It was a
greater poverty, still, when, in the Garden, rising from the agony and
bloody sweat, He found the three that were nearest to Him, sleeping,
and He said to them, "What, could you not watch with Me one hour?" Ah,
then was He in the depths of poverty, indeed, as to the communion of
His spirit!

Still, I think that we have not reached the lowest deeps of the
Savior's poverty till we come to the fact of His bearing sin. A man may
be very poor as to worldly goods and he may be able to bear it. He may
have taken another's debts upon himself and they may press heavily upon
him, yet the load may not crush Him. But when he loses his character
because of no wrong of his own, but because he wishes to deliver
another, and when he has to come into contact with the sin of another
and cannot help coming into contact with it–if his mind is pure and
innocent–it is an awful poverty to him! Brothers and Sisters, it is
the greatest miracle I ever heard of that the Lamb of God should bear
the sin of men at all– and should so bear sin as to take it away,
because, remember, there was in Christ no taint of sin of any kind!

There was no inclination to sin in Him and yet, (hear these Inspired
Words), "He has made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin." Of course,
the Savior never could be sinful and we will use no words that might
even suggest such a thought! We would, with indignation, repudiate such
an idea, but yet He did occupy the sinner's place. He did endure the
sinner's curse–"As it is written, cursed is everyone that hangs on a
tree." No, I will even dare to say that before the Lord God, He stood
as the one Sinner, though He was no sinner! But the Lord made to meet
on Him the iniquity of us all. Jesus stood to answer the summons of the
Law of God and to appear there as the Substitute for His people, "the
Just for the unjust." But still, to appear there for the unjust–"who
His own Self bore our sins in His own body on the tree." Let me give
you those words, again–"who His own Self bore our sins in His own body
on the tree."

He who was "God over all, blessed forever." He without whom was not
anything made that was made–for Him to whom the cherubim and seraphim
continually cry, "Holy, holy, holy"–this must be abject poverty,
indeed, that though He was rich in holiness, for our sakes He became
poor in bearing our sin!

The end of His poverty and the climax of it, was when at last He died.
We have, perhaps, never realized the wonder that He "who only has
immortality" did actually die! His spirit departed. He gave up the
ghost, the ghost who had been a guest within His body. He gave up that
guest and His body was tenantless–an empty house. What a sight is
that, (I wonder not that great painters have tried to depict it), the
taking of Christ down from the Cross, the wrapping of His mangled body
in the fair white linen and the precious spices! Can this really be the
Son of God, the Redeemer of men? Do they wrap Him up in a winding sheet
and do the holy men and women actually bear Him to a tomb? Yes, and to
a borrowed tomb, for as He had lain in a borrowed cradle, He now sleeps
in a borrowed sepulcher! They put Him there, for He is dead. His eyes
are as firmly closed as those of any other dead man and His hands are
as cold and motionless, for Christ's was no fancied death. The Lord of
Life and Glory did actually die and there, in Joseph's tomb, was He
buried. And from there He rose the third day. As the earth quakes and
the angel rolls away the stone from the sepulcher, say to yourselves,

"You know, now, the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though He was
rich, yet for our sakes became poor," so poor that He actually lay,
awhile, dead in Joseph's tomb!

There I leave this first point. May God the Holy Spirit help us to
understand the poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ!

II. But now, dear Friends, very rapidly, but yet I trust, deliberately,
I want to show you THE RICHES OF BELIEVERS. They are exactly parallel
with the poverty of Christ. Our Lord Jesus Christ did not come into the
world to become poor with regard to money, or that you and I might
become rich in worldly wealth, for many of the best of His people are
still as poor as poverty, so far as this paltry pelf is concerned! He
came to give us true riches as He came to endure true poverty. I have
brought before your notice a poverty that did not lie so much in the
scantiness of His apparel, or in the hardness of His fare, as in other
matters. So the riches which Christ gives do not lie in our being
clothed in scarlet and fine linen, or faring sumptuously every
day–they are similar in character to the marks of our Lord's poverty!

First, then, He made His people rich in condition. Brothers and
Sisters, we are servants, as Christ was. But that which was a lowering
to Him is a lifting up for us! To us there is no greater honor than to
be called the servants of the Lord Jesus Christ–and to wait upon the
servants of God. To be servus servorum is a privilege that any one of
us might covet. To wash the disciples' feet is now an honor to us and
we feel it to be so. If the servant is permitted to be as his Master,
it is a great exaltation for him. By Christ's poverty, we are made rich
in our condition, so that, today, we are the sons of God! Today we have
access to the Mercy Seat! Today God listens to the voice of a man!
Today Jesus has made us kings and priests unto God and we shall reign
forever and ever! The condition of the believing man is a highly
exalted one in proportion as the condition of Christ was one of
humiliation and poverty!

So is it with regard to the Believer in his reputation. Oh, Brothers
and Sisters, what a reputation Christ has given us! He has given us the
reputation which He threw away, for now we are righteous in His
righteousness! We are comely in the comeliness which He puts upon us!
We have a name and a place, now, better than that of sons and
daughters! We are not now reckoned among the guilty, but among the
godly! We are not numbered among the rebellious strangers, but among
the obedient children! Oh, blessed be the name of Jesus! He has clothed
us with honor because He clothed Himself with shame!

The same is true as to our operation. I showed you how Christ
voluntarily narrowed and limited His power, but behold how He has
widened our power! There is a text I often look at and admire. Jesus
said, "He that believes on Me, the works that I do shall He do, also,
and greater works than these shall he do, because I go unto My Father."
He makes us to have an almost boundless power! We are nothing but poor
feeble men and yet how wonderfully does God use men! Have you ever
noticed, in Paul's Epistles, how he represents the minister of Christ
as being both father and mother to a new-born soul? Writing to
Philemon, he says, "I beseech you for my son, Onesimus, whom I have
begotten in my bonds." And to the Galatians he writes, "My little
children, of whom I travail in birth, again, until Christ is formed in
you." Is it not a very wonderful thing that we should be called,
"workers, together with God"–our weakness working side by side with
Omnipotence, itself?

My Brothers and Sisters, perhaps you do not know how greatly Christ has
enriched you. Have you ever proven how rich He has made you in the
power of prayer? "Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it." "If you
abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you shall ask what you will,
and it shall be done unto you." We do not make enough use of the great
name of Christ! If we did, we would work miracles–I mean not in the
material world, but spiritual miracles would be at our beck and call!
Our great Lord Jesus, by His poverty of operation, has made us rich in
a wondrous power of Grace!

I also said that He had become poor in communion and I showed you how
narrow was the circle of men with whom He could associate. But He has
wonderfully enriched us in communion, so that we have come, "to the
general assembly and Church of the first-born, who are written in
Heaven." Behold, He has given us such fellowship with Himself that He
says of us who believe, "These are My mother, and My sister, and My
brothers." We also have fellowship with God– "Truly our fellowship is
with the Father and with His Son, Jesus Christ." What riches He has
given us here!

Next, you remember, I spoke about Christ's bearing sin as being an
awful instance of His poverty, but by His Substitution, we have
acceptance with God. See how rich He has made us, for we are, "accepted
in the Beloved." "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God."
That is a wonderful passage in Jeremiah's prophecy, "This is the name
wherewith she shall be called, the Lord Our Righteousness." What? The
Church, itself, called, "The Lord Our Righteousness"? Yes, she takes
her husband's name! The Church has Christ's own title bestowed upon
her! Christ became poor, indeed, as He stood

in our place, but He has fixed us in a large and wealthy place by
giving us complete acceptance with the Father through His
righteousness.

Then, as I completed the story, I pictured our Lord Jesus as lying in
the death sleep of the tomb. But think, O Beloved, that He has now, in
consequence of that death, given us eternal life. His own words are,
"He that believes on Me has everlasting life." "Whoever lives and
believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?" Because Christ
died, we live. Because He died, we shall never die! The capital
sentence has been executed upon our Substitute and can never be
executed again. Punishment cannot be inflicted, first on the bleeding
Surety, and then on those for whom that Surety stood! Therefore we live
by His death and over us, the Second Death can have no power! Death is
not annihilation. No thoughtful person ever fancies that it is. Death
is the separation of the soul from the body. Death, in its highest
sense, is the separation of the soul from God. We may know the first
death, the rending of the soul from the body, but the Second Death, the
separation of the soul from God–that we shall never know–for Jesus
knew it on our behalf when He said, "My God, My God, why have You
forsaken Me?" But now, "Christ being raised from the dead dies no more;
death has no more dominion over Him, for in that He died, He died unto
sin, once: but in that He lives, He lives unto God." Oh, how rich He
has made us in the indestructible everlasting life which He has
bestowed upon us through His atoning death and His glorious
Resurrection!

I close with just these two or three remarks which the subject
suggests.

First, if such is the result of Christ's poverty, "that you, through
His poverty, might be rich," what will the result of His riches be? If
by His death we live, what must be the outcome of His life? If by His
humiliation we are so enriched, what will come of His Glory? If by His
first coming, when He came as a Sin-Offering, all this is accomplished,
what may not be expected when He shall come a second time without a
Sin-Offering unto salvation? Try and work out that problem if you can!

Here is another. If Christ's poverty is such as I have tried to
describe it, what must the riches of His people be? If our riches are
proportionate to His poverty, what rich people we are! He was poor as
poor can be and we, if we are believing in Him, are as rich as rich can
be! So low as He went, so high do we rise! That is how the scales of
the sanctuary act–as He sinks, we go up! Will you try to see how high
you must be according to this standard? What riches must belong to you
when you judge of them by Christ's poverty!

The next question is, if such are our riches, why do we complain of
poverty? There stands a child of God who does not know whether he has
any Grace. He is putting his hand into his soul's pocket to see whether
he can find a pennyworth of Grace. My Brother, all things are yours if
you are Christ's, for it pleased the Father that in Him should all
fullness dwell! There is many a child of the King who is entitled to
reign like a prince, who continues to live like a miser. He weighs
every ounce he eats. He starves himself, spiritually, near unto death.
What are you doing? Why shouldn't you, to whom God has given Christ,
that is to say, everything–be glad in the Lord and rejoice with
unspeakable joy–and full of glory?

I close with one more question. If such was His power, why shouldn't
we, also, for His Glory, be willing to be poor? If He would throw aside
His honor, why shouldn't we throw ours aside? If He gave up His ease,
why shouldn't we give up ours? If He was willing to be a Servant, why
shouldn't we be servants? If He made Himself of no reputation, why
shouldn't we do the same? That is very different from the action of my
friend over there who said, "Well, you know, I shall not stand it. I do
not think that I should be treated like that. I really feel that I
ought to be more respected." Ah, poor Soul, if you knew yourself, you
would not talk so! Who among us deserves any respect? They call us,
"Reverend." It makes me sick to think that any mortal man should be
considered a "reverend" person! What reverence can be due to us except
that every wife is to "see that she reverences her husband"? That is
Scriptural–but it is never said that every hearer is to reverence the
preacher! Oh, what poor creatures we are at our best!

If God were to permit us to be doormats to the Church, it would be too
high an honor for us! I have seen a broom, sometimes, outside a door
where farming men come to brush their boots. It is a grand thing for a
man to be just like that. I think that I am getting very near to that
honor and glory, so many are scraping their boots against me just now,
and I am well content that it should be so if they get some of the mud
off and do not go and spoil God's floor inside. Let all of us feel that
what becomes of us matters nothing at all! Let us be willing to die in
a ditch so long as Jesus Christ sits on the Throne of God and His great
Truth is established in the world.

"You know the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though He was rich,
yet for your sakes He became poor." Go and imitate Him and be willing
to be nothing at all, if only He may be All in All. God bless you!
Amen.

EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: Psalm 22:1-21.

This marvelous Psalm is a wonderful prophecy which might seem as if it
had been composed after the suffering of our Lord. But it was written
many hundreds of years before His Incarnation and death. It is "a Psalm
of David," and is dedicated, "To the chief Musician upon Aijeleth
Shahar," or, as the margin renders it, "the hind of the morning." We
know who that hunted Hind of the morning is. We seem to see Him
panting, his flanks white with foam, pressed by the dogs, almost torn
to pieces by the cruel enemy. The Psalm begins with words that, in all
their fullness, belong to nobody else but our Well-Beloved.

Verse 1. My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Every word is
emphatic. You may put the stress where you please, upon every single
word. "My God, My God." With two hands He takes hold on God, crying,
"My God, My God," "Eloi, Eloi, My Strong One, why have You forsaken
Me?" Or read it, "Why have You forsaken Me?" "Why have You forsaken
Me?" "Why have You forsaken Me?" You get a different shade of meaning
each time, but each meaning is true.

1. Why are You so far from helping Me, and from the words of My
roaring? The Savior's prayers had ceased to be articulate. They had
become, in His own judgement, like the pained crying of a wounded
beast. He calls them, "My roaring." Oh, what prayers were those of our
Lord on the Cross! Sometimes we, too, feel as if we could not pray–we
can only sigh, and sob, and groan. Well, if it even came to roaring, we
would have a fuller sympathy with Christ, for He could say, "Why are
You so far from helping Me, and from the words of My roaring?"

2, 3. O My God, I cry in the daytime, but You hear not; and in the
night season, and am not silent. But You are holy, O You that inhabit
the praises of Israel. Jesus will find no fault with God. Even if in
His dire extremity, God forsakes Him, yet He will not utter even a
whisper against Him–"You are holy, O You that inhabit the praises of
Israel."

4-6. Our fathers trusted in You: they trusted, and You did deliver
them. They cried unto You, and were delivered: they trusted in You, and
were not confounded. But I am a worm, and no man. The allusion here is
to a little red worm which, when it is crushed, seems to be all blood
and nothing else–the Savior compares Himself to that little red worm,
"and no man."

6. A reproach of men, and despised of the people. They would not let
Him be numbered with them. They accounted Him as an off cast and an
outcast.

7, 8. All they that see Me laugh Me to scorn: they shoot out the lip,
they shake the head, saying, He trusted on the LORD that He would
deliver Him: let Him deliver Him, seeing He delighted in Him. Will you
try to picture the Savior saying all these words as He hangs upon the
Cross? That is the best commentary upon the Psalm. Hanging there,
nailed to the cruel wood, in terrible bodily and mental anguish and
deserted of God, He soliloquizes after this sad fashion. You will
understand it all so well if you have Him in your mind's eye as we are
reading.

9-10. But You are He that took Me out of the womb: You did make Me hope
when I was upon My mother's breasts. I was cast upon You from the womb:
You are My God from My mother's belly. We could not help ourselves
then. At the moment of our birth, everything depended upon God and so
it does in the moment of our death. It is well to remember those years
of helpless infancy when we could not feed ourselves. We were taken
care of, then, when we hung in absolute impotence upon our mother's
breast–then surely, if a second childhood should come, if all our
powers should fail us, and we should be once more as weak as we were at
our birth–He that helped us in the beginning will help us in the end!
Thus the Savior comforted Himself as He went on praying–

11. Be not far from Me; for trouble is near; for there is none to help.
Oh, the bitterness of that cry, "None to help!" "They have all gone.
The disciples have all fled. Judas has betrayed Me. Peter has denied
Me. There is none to help. Be not far from Me." There stand the Roman
soldiers, the High Priest and the Scribes and Pharisees–and Jesus
says–

12-14. Many bulls have compassed Me; strong bulls of Bashan have beset
Me round. They gaped upon Me with their mouths, as a ravening and a
roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of
joint. They were, no doubt,

dislocated by the dreadful shaking and jarring that our Savior must
have suffered when they dashed the Cross into the hole dug for it.

14. My heart is like wax; it Has melted in the midst of Me. When the
heart goes, everything goes. When the heart fails, and begins to melt,
then it seems as if everything is loosening and the man is in the
anguish of death.

15. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and My tongue cleaves to
My jaws. Our Lord was parched with the fever brought on by the terrible
anguish and strain upon the hands and feet, which are full of nerves
and very tender. A slight wound of the thumb has brought on lockjaw,
but what the wounds of the Savior's delicate and sensitive body must
have been, we cannot possibly tell–"My tongue cleaves to My jaws."

16. And You have brought Me into the dust of death. He felt as if His
very frame was all turning to the dust of which the body is made. So
complete is the breaking up of the whole manhood when a strong fever is
upon one.

16. For dogs have compassed Me. There was the ribald crowd–not, this
time, the bulls of Bashan, the great ones, but the mob–the masses of
the common people hooting at Him. "Dogs have compassed Me."

16. The assembly of the wicked have enclosed Me: they forced My hands
and My feet. Can anybody else be speaking here but Jesus of Nazareth,
the Son of David, the King of the Jews? Now is this Hind of the morning
hunted till the dogs and the hunters have made a circle round Him. "The
assembly of the wicked have enclosed Me." Here is Christ's Crucifixion
beyond all doubt–"They pierced My hands and My feet."

17. I can count all My bones. He is so emaciated that, as He looks down
upon His body, He says, "I can count all My bones."

17. They look and stare upon Me. The delicate modesty of the Savior is
shocked. They have stripped Him and hung Him up–and there they stand
and gloat–their cruel eyes upon His matchless body. "They look and
stare upon Me."

18. They part My garment among them, and cast lots for My clothing. How
accurate is this description, even to the least detail! How wondrously
was this Poet-Prophet inspired when he thus drew the portrait of the
Crucified Christ! "They part My garments among them, and cast lots for
My clothing."

19-21. But be not You far from Me, O LORD: O My strength, hasten You to
help Me. Deliver My Soul from the sword: My darling life from the power
of the dog. Save Me from the lion's mouth: for You have heard Me. So
far, You see, the Psalm describes the sufferings of our Divine Redeemer
and then it changes. The light of the sun has broken out from the
midday darkness! God has smiled on Him, once more, and the Psalm
changes its tone altogether as the Savior congratulates Himself upon
the result of His passion. The Psalm ends with these memorable words,
"It is finished." Our version puts it, "He has done this." It might
just as well be rendered, "It is finished," for the sense is precisely
the same. And when Jesus had said this, He bowed His head, and gave up
the ghost.