through him who has loved him.
18. IV. This brings me to this last point, that THE CHRISTIAN IS TO BE A CONQUEROR AT LAST. Do you think that we are for ever to be the drudges and the slaves of sin? Am I for ever to be the galley slave of my own nature, to tug for freedom and never to escape? Am I always to have this dead man chained to my back, and sniff the pestiferous exhalations of his putrid body? No, no, no, what is within my heart, is like a caged eagle; and I know that soon the bars which confine me shall be broken; the door of my cage shall be opened, and I shall mount up with my eye upon the sun of glory, soaring upward, true to the line, moving neither to the right hand nor to the left, flying until I reach my eyrie in the everlasting rocks of God’s eternal love. No, we who love the Lord are not for ever to dwell in Mesech. The dust may smear our robes, and filth may be upon our brow, and tattered may be our garment, but we shall not be so for ever. The day is coming when we shall rise and shake ourselves from the dust, and put on our beautiful garments. It is true we are now like Israel in Canaan. Canaan is full of enemies; but the Canaanites shall and must be driven out. Amalek shall be slain, Agag shall be hewn in pieces; our enemies shall, every one of them, be dispersed, and the whole land from Dan to Beersheba shall be the Lord’s. Christians, rejoice! You are soon to be perfect, you are soon to be free from sin, totally free from it, without one wrong inclination, one evil desire. You are soon to be as pure as the angels in light; no, more, with your Master’s garments on you are to be “holy as the holy one.” Can you think of that? Is not that the very sum of heaven, the rapture of bliss, the sonnet of the hilltops of glory — that you are to be perfect? No temptation can reach you from eye, or ear, or hand; nor if the temptation could reach you would you be harmed by it; for there will be nothing in you that could in any way foster sin. It would be as when a spark falls upon an ocean; your holiness would quench it in a moment. Yes, washed in the blood of Jesus, afresh baptized with the Holy Spirit, you are soon to walk the golden streets, white robed and white hearted too, and perfect as your Maker, you are to stand before his throne, and sing his praises for eternity.
19. Now, soldiers of Christ, to arms again! Once more rush into the fight, you cannot be defeated; you must overcome. Though you faint a little, yet take courage; you shall conquer through the blood of the Lamb.
20. And now, turning aside for a minute, I shall conclude by making an observation or two to many now present. There are some here who say, “I am never disturbed in that way.” Then I am sorry for you. I will tell you the reason for your false peace. You do not have the grace of God in your hearts. If you had you would surely find this conflict within you. Do not despise the Christian because he is in the conflict; despise yourself because you are not in it. The reason why the devil lets you alone is, that he knows you are his. He does not need to trouble you much now; he will have time enough to give you your wages at the last. He troubles the Christian because he is afraid of losing him; he thinks that if he does not tease him here, he shall never have the chance to do it in eternity; so he will bite him, and bark at him while he may. That is why the Christian is vexed more then you are. As for you, you may well be without any pain, for dead men feel no blows. You may well be without any prickings of conscience; for men who are corrupt are not likely to feel wounds, though you stab them from head to foot. I pity your condition, for the worm that does not die is preparing to feed upon you; the eternal vulture of remorse shall soon wet his horrid beak with the blood of your soul. Tremble; for the fires of hell are hot and unquenchable, and the place of perdition is hideous beyond a madman’s dream. Oh that you would think of your last end. The Christian may have an evil present, but he has a glorious future; but your future is the blackness of darkness for ever. I adjure you by the living God, you who do not fear Christ, consider your ways. You and I must give an account for this morning’s service. You are warned, men; you are warned. Take heed to yourselves, that you do not think this life to be everything. There is a world to come; there is “after death the judgment.” If you do not fear the Lord, there is after judgment eternal wrath and everlasting misery.
21. And now a word to those who are seeking Christ. “Ah!” one says, “sir, I have sought Christ, but I feel worse than I ever was in my life. Before I had any thoughts about Christ I felt myself to be good, but now I feel myself to be evil.” It is all right, my friend; I am glad to hear you say so. When surgeons heal a patient’s wound, they always take care to cut away the proud flesh, because the cure can never be radical while the proud flesh remains. The Lord is getting rid of your self-confidence and self-righteousness. He is just now revealing to your soul the deadly cancer which is festering within you. You are on the sure road to healing, if you are on the way to wounding. God wounds before he heals; he strikes a man dead in his own esteem before he makes him alive. “Ah,” one cries, “but can I hope that I ever shall be delivered?” Yes, my brother, if you now look to Christ. I do not care about your sin nor about your despair of heart; if you will only turn your eye to him who bled upon the tree, there is not only hope for you, but there is a certainty of salvation. I myself, while thinking over this subject, felt a horror of great darkness rush over my spirit, as I thought what danger I was in lest I should be defeated, and I could not get a glimpse of light into my burdened spirit, until I turned my eye, and saw my Master hanging on the tree. I saw the blood still flowing; faith laid hold upon the sacrifice, and I said, “This cross is the instrument of Jesus’ victory, and shall be the means of mine.” I looked to his blood; I remembered that I was triumphant in that blood, and I arose from my meditations, humbled, but yet rejoicing; cast down, but not in despair; looking for the victory. Do likewise. “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners: believe that.” You are an awakened, conscious and penitent sinner; therefore, he came to save you. Believe his word; trust him. Do nothing for your own salvation, but trust him to do it. Cast yourself simply and only on him; and, just as this Bible is true, you shall not find the promise fail you — “He who seeks finds; to him who knocks it shall be opened.”
22. May God help you, by giving you this new life within! May he help you to look to Jesus, and though long and hard is the conflict, sweet shall be the victory.
The Shameful Sufferer
No. 236-5:89. A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, January 30, 1859, By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.
Who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and now has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. {Hebrews 12:2}
1. “Oh what shall I do, my Saviour to praise?” Where shall language be found which shall describe his matchless, his unparalleled love towards the children of men. Upon any ordinary subject one may find liberty of speech and fulness of utterance, but this subject lies beyond the reach of all oratory, and eloquence cannot attain to it. This is one of the unutterable things — unutterable, because it surpasses thought, and defies the power of words. How, then, can we deal with what is unutterable? I am conscious that all I can say concerning the sufferings of Jesus, this morning, will be only like a drop in the bucket. None of us knows the half of the agony which he endured; none of us have ever fully comprehended the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge. Philosophers have probed the earth to its very centre, threaded the spheres, measured the skies, weighed the hills — no, weighed the world itself; but this is one of those vast, boundless things, which to measure surpasses all except the Infinite himself. Just as the swallow only skims the water, and does not dive into its depths, so all the descriptions of the preacher only skim the surface, while depths immeasurable must lie far beneath our observation. Well might a poet say —
Oh love, you fathomless abyss!
for this love of Christ is indeed measureless and fathomless. None of us can attain to it. In speaking of it we feel our own weakness, we cast ourselves upon the strength of the Spirit, but, even then, we feel that we can never attain to the majesty of this subject. Before we can ever have a proper idea of the love of Jesus, we must understand his previous glory in its height of majesty, and his incarnation upon the earth in all its depths of shame. Now, who can describe the majesty of Christ? When he was enthroned in the highest heavens he was very God of very God; by him were the heavens made, and all its hosts, by his power he hung the earth upon nothing; his own almighty arm upheld the spheres; the