This is a part of a discourse by John the Baptist. We have not many sermons by that mighty preacher, but we have just sufficient to prove that he knew how to lay the axe at the root of the tree by preaching the law of God most unflinchingly; and also that he knew how to declare the gospel, for no one could have uttered sentences which more clearly contain the way of salvation than those in the text before us. Indeed, this third chapter of the gospel according to the evangelist John is notable among clear and plain Scriptures-notable for being yet clearer and plainer than almost any other. John the Baptist was evidently a preacher who knew how to discriminate-a point in which so many fail-he separated between the precious and the vile, and therefore he was as God’s mouth, to the people. He does not address them as all lost nor as all saved, but he shows the two classes, he keeps up the line of demarcation between him that feareth God and him that feareth him not. He plainly declares the privileges of the believer, he saith he hath even now eternal life; and with equal decision he testifies to the sad state of the unbeliever-” he shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” John the Baptist might usefully instruct many professedly Christian preachers. Although he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than John the Baptist, and ought, therefore, more clearly to bear witness to the truth; yet, there are many who muddle the gospel, who teach philosophy, who preach a mingle-mangle, which is neither law nor gospel; and these might well go to school to this rough preacher of the wilderness, and learn from him how to cry, “Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.” I desire this morning to take a leaf out of the Baptist’s lesson book; I would preach as he did the gospel of the Lord Jesus, “whose shoes I am not worthy to bear.” It is my earnest desire to enjoy the delight of expounding to you the deep things of God; I feel a profound pleasure in opening up the blessings of the covenant of grace, and bringing forth out of its treasury things new and old. I should be happy to dwell upon the types of the Old Testament, and even to touch upon the prophecies of the New; but, while so many yet remain unsaved, my heart is never content except when I am preaching simply the gospel of Jesus Christ. My dear unconverted hearers, when I see you brought to Christ, I will then advance beyond the rudiments of the gospel; but, meanwhile, while hell is gaping wide, and many of you will certainly help to fill it, I cannot turn aside from warning you. I dare not resist the sacred impulse which constrains me to preach over and over again to you the glad tidings of salvation. I shall, like John, continue laying the axe at the root of the trees, and shall not go beyond crying, “Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” As he did, we shall now declare the sad estate of him who believeth not the Son of God.

This morning, with the burden of the Lord upon us, we shall speak upon the words of the text. Our first point shall be a discovery of the guilty one, “he that believeth not the Son.” Next, we shall consider his offence; it lies in “not believing the Son;” thirdly, we shall lay bare the sinful causes which create this unbelief; and, fourthly, we shall show the terrible result of not believing in the Son: “he shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.” May the Spirit help us in all.

I, To begin, then, who is the guilty one? Who is the unhappy man here spoken of? Is he a person to be met with only once in a century? Must we search the crowds through and through to find out an individual in this miserable plight? Ah! no; the persons who are here spoken of are common; they abound even in our holy assemblies; they are to be met with by thousands in our streets. Alas, alas! they form the vast majority of the world’s population. Jesus hath come unto his own and his own have not received him, the Jewish race remain unbelieving; while the Gentiles, to whom he was to be a light, prefer to sit in darkness and reject his brightness. We shall not be talking this morning upon a recondite theme, with only a remote relation to ourselves, but there are many here of whom we shall be speaking, and we devoutly pray that the word of God may come with power to their souls.

The persons here spoken of are those who believe not the Son of God. Jesus Christ, out of infinite mercy, has come into the world, has taken upon himself our nature, and in that nature has suffered the just for the unjust, to bring us to God. By reason of his sufferings, the gospel message is now proclaimed to all men, and they are honestly assured that “whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” The unhappy persons in this text will not believe in Jesus Christ, they reject God’s way of mercy; they hear the gospel, but refuse obedience to its command. Let it not be imagined that these individuals are necessarily avowed sceptics, for many of them believe much of revealed truth. They believe the Bible to be the word of God; they believe there is a God; they believe that Jesus Christ is come into the world as a Saviour; they believe most of the doctrines which cluster around the cross. Alas! they may do this, but yet the wrath of God abideth on them, if they believe not the Son of God. It may surprise you to learn that many of these persons are very much interested in orthodoxy. They believe that they have discovered the truth, and they exceedingly value those discoveries, so that they frequently grow very warm in temper with those who differ from them. They have read much, and they are masters of argument in the defence of what they consider to be sound doctrine. They cannot endure heresy, and yet sad is the fact, that believing what they do, and knowing so much, they have not believed the Son of God. They believe the doctrine of election, but they have not the faith of God’s elect: they swear by final perseverance, but persevere in unbelief. They confess all the five points of Calvinism, but they have not come to the one most needful point of looking unto Jesus, that they may be saved. They accept in creed the truths that are assuredly believed among us, but they have not received that faithful saying, worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; at any rate, they have not received it personally and practically for their souls’ salvation.

It must be admitted that not a few of these persons are blameless as to their morals. You could not, with the closest observation, find either dishonesty, falsehood, uncleanness, or malice in their outward life; they are not only free from these blots, but they manifest positive excellences. Much of their character is commendable. They frequently are courteous and compassionate, generous and gentle-minded. Oftentimes, they are so amiable and admirable, that, while looking upon them, we understand how our Lord, in a similar case, loved the young man who asked “what lack I yet?” The one thing needful they are destitute of, they have not believed in Christ Jesus, and loath as the Saviour was to see them perish, yet it cannot be helped, one doom is common to all who believe not; they shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on them.

In many cases these persons are, in addition to their morality, religious persons alter a fashion. They would not absent themselves from the usual service of the place of worship. They are most careful to respect the Sabbath, they venerate the Book of God, they use a form of prayer, they join in the songs of the Sanctuary, they sit as God’s people sit, and stand as God’s people stand, but, alas, there is a worm in the centre of that fair fruit, they have missed the one essential thing, which, being omitted, brings certain ruin; they have not believed on the Son of God. Ah, how far a man may go, and yet, for lack of this one thing, the wrath of God may still abide upon him. Beloved of parents who are hopeful of the conversion of their boy, esteemed by Christians who cannot but admire his outward conversation, yet for all that, the young man may be under the frown of God, for “God is angry with the wicked every day.” The wrath of God abideth on the man, whoever he may be, that hath not believed in Jesus.

Now, if our text showed that the wrath of God was resting on the culprits in our jails, most persons would assent to the statement, and none would wonder at it. If our text declared that the wrath of God abides upon persons who live in habitual unchastity and constant violation of all the laws of order and respectability, most men would say “Amen;” but the text is aimed at another character. It is true that God’s wrath does rest upon open sinners; but, oh sirs, this too is true, the wrath of God abideth upon those who boast of their virtues but have not believed in Jesus his Son. They may dwell in palaces; but, if they are not believers, the wrath of God abideth on them. They may sit in the senate house and enjoy the acclamations of the nation; but, if they believe not on the Son, the wrath of God abideth on them. Their names may be enrolled in the peerage, and they may possess countless wealth, but the wrath of God abideth on them. They may be habitual in their charities, and abundant in external acts of devotion; but, if they have not accepted the appointed Saviour, the word of God bears witness, that “the wrath of God abideth on them.”

Now let us, with our hearts awakened by God’s Spirit, try to think upon their offence.

What is this peculiar sin which entails the wrath of God upon these people? It is that they have not believed the Son of God. What does that amount to? It amounts to this, first of all, that they refuse to accept the mercy of God. God made a law, and his creatures were bound to respect and obey it. We rejected it, and turned aside from it. It was a great display of the heart’s hatred, but it was not in some respects so thoroughly and intensely wicked a manifestation of enmity to God as when we reject the gospel of grace. God has now presented not the law but the gospel to us, and he has said: “My creatures, you have broken my law, you have acted very vilely towards me. I must punish for sin, else I were not God, and I cannot lay aside my justice; but I have devised a way by which, without any injury to any of my attributes, I can have mercy upon you. I am ready to forgive the past, and to restore you to more than your lost position, so that you shall be my sons and my daughters. My only command to you is, believe in my Son. If this command be obeyed, all the blessings of my new covenant shall be yours. Trust him, and follow him; for, behold, I give him as a leader and commander to the people. Accept him as making atonement by his substitution, and obey him.” Now, to reject the law of God shows an evil heart of unbelief; but who shall say what a depth of rebellion must dwell in that heart which refuses not only the yoke of God but even the gift of God. The provision of a Saviour for lost men is the free gift of God, by it all our wants are supplied, all our evils are removed, peace on earth is secured to us, and glory for ever with God: the rejection of this gift cannot be a small sin. The all-seeing One, when he beholds men spurning the supreme gift of his love, cannot but regard such rejection as the worst proof of the hatred of their hearts against himself. When the Holy Spirit comes to convince men of sin, the especial sin which he brings to light is thus described: “Of sin, because they believed not on me.” Not because the heathen were licentious in their habits, barbarous in their wars, and bloodthirsty in their spirit. No: “Of sin, because they believe not on me.” Condemnation has come upon men, but what is the condemnation? “That light is come into the world, and men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.” Remember, also, that expressive text: “He that believeth not is condemned already;” and what is he condemned for? “Because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God.”

Let me remark, further, that in the rejection of divine mercy as presented in Christ, the unbeliever has displayed an intense venom against God, for observe how it is. He must either receive the mercy of God in Christ, or he must be condemned-there is no other alternative. He must trust Christ whom God has set forth to be the propitiation for sin, or else he must be driven from the presence of God into eternal punishment. The unbeliever in effect says, “I had sooner be damned than I would accept God’s mercy in Christ.” Can we conceive a grosser insult to the infinite compassion of the great Father? Suppose a man has injured another, grossly insulted him, and that repeatedly, and yet the injured person, finding the man at last brought into a wretched and miserable state, goes to him, and simply out of kindness to him, says, “I freely forgive you all the wrong you ever did me, and I am ready to relieve your poverty, and to succour you in your distress.” Suppose the other replies, “No, I would sooner rot than take anything from you;” would not you have in such a resolve a clear proof of the intense enmity that existed in his heart? And so when a man saith, and everyone of you unbelievers do practically say so, “I would sooner lie for ever in hell than honour Christ by trusting him,” this is a very plain proof of his hatred of God and his Christ. Unbelievers hate God. Let me ask, for what do you hate him? He keeps the breath within your nostrils; he it is that gives you food and raiment, and sends fruitful seasons. For which of these good things do you hate him? You hate him because he is good. Ah, then, it must be because you yourself are evil, and your heart very far removed from righteousness. May God grant that this great and crying sin may be clearly set before your eyes by the light of the Eternal Spirit, and may you repent of it, and turn from your unbelief, and live this day.

But yet further, the unbeliever touches God in a very tender place by his unbelief. No doubt, it was to the great Maker a joyous thing to fashion this world, but there are no expressions of joy concerning it at all equal to the joy of God in the matter of human redemption. We would be guarded when we speak of him; but, as far as we can tell, the gift of his dear Son to men, and the whole scheme of redemption, is the master work even of God himself. He is infinite in power, and wisdom, and love; his ways are as high above our ways as the heavens are above the earth; but Scripture, I think, will warrant me in saying-

“That in the grace which rescued man

His brightest form of glory shines;

Here on the cross ’tis fairest writ,

In precious blood and crimson lines.”

Now, the man who saith, “There is no God” is a fool, but he who denies God the glory of redemption, in addition to his folly, has robbed the Lord of the choicest jewel of his regalia, and aimed a deadly blow at the divine honour. I may say of him who despises the great salvation, that, in despising Christ, he touches the apple of God’s eye. “This is my beloved Son,” saith God, “hear ye him.” Out of heaven he saith it, and yet men stop their ears and say, “We will not have him.” Nay, they wax wrath against the cross, and turn away from God’s salvation. Do you think that God will always bear this? The times of your ignorance he hath winked at, but “now commandeth all men everywhere to repent.” Will ye stand out against his love? His love that has been so inventive in ingenious plans by which to bless the sons of men? Shall his choicest work be utterly contemned by you? If so, it is little wonder that it is written, “The wrath of God abideth on him.”

I must, still further, unveil this matter by saying that the unbeliever perpetrates an offence against every person of the blessed Trinity. He may think that his not believing is a very small business, but, indeed, it is a barbed shaft shot against the Deity. Take the Persons of the blessed Trinity, beginning with the Son of God who comes to us most nearly. It is to me the most surprising thing I ever heard of that “the word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” I do not wonder that in Hindostan the missionaries are often met with this remark: “It is too good to be true that God ever took upon himself the nature of such a thing as man!” Yet, more wonderful does it seem to be that, when Christ became man, he took all the sorrows and infirmity of man, and, in addition, was made to bear the sin of many. The most extraordinary of all facts is this: that the infinitely Holy should be “numbered with the transgressors,” and, in the words of Esaias, should “bear their iniquities.” The Lord hath made him, who knew no sin, to be made sin for us. Wonder of wonders! It is beyond all degree amazing that he who distributes crowns and thrones should hang on a tree and die, the just for the unjust, bearing the punishment due to sinners for guilt. Now, knowing this, as most of you do, and yet refusing to believe, you do, in effect, say, “I do not believe that the incarnate God can save.” “Oh no,” you reply, “we sincerely believe that he can save.” Then, it must be that you feel, “I believe he can, but I will not have him to save me.” Wherein I excuse you in the first place, I must bring the accusation more heavily in the second. You answer that “you do not say you will not believe him.” Why do you then remain in unbelief? The fact is you do not trust him; you do not obey him. I pray you account for the fact. “May I believe him?” saith one. Have we not told you ten thousand times over that whosoever will may take the water of life freely. If there be any barrier it is not with God, it is not with Christ, it is with your own sinful heart. You are welcome to the Saviour now, and if you trust him now he is yours for ever. But oh, unbeliever, it appears to be nothing to you that Christ has died. His wounds attract you not. His groans for his enemies have no music in them to you. You turn your back upon the incarnate God who bleeds for men, and in so doing you shut yourselves out of hope, judging yourselves unworthy of eternal life.

Furthermore, the wilful rejection of Christ is also an insult to God the Father. “He that believeth not hath made God a liar, because he hath not believed the record that God gave of his Son.” God has himself often borne testimony to his dear Son. “Him hath God the Father set forth to be a propitiation for our sins.” In rejecting Christ, you reject God’s testimony and God’s gift. It is a direct assault upon the truthfulness and lovingkindness of the gracious Father, when you trample on or cast aside his priceless, peerless gift of love.

And, as for the blessed Spirit, it is his office here below to bear witness to Christ. In the Christian ministry, daily the Holy Spirit cries to the sons of men to come to Jesus. He has striven in the hearts of many of you, given you a measure of conviction of sin, and a degree of knowledge of the glory of Christ, but you have repressed it, you have laboured to your utmost to do despite to the Spirit of God. Believe me, this is no slight sin. An unbeliever is an enemy to God the Father, to God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Against the blessed Trinity in Unity, O unbeliever, your sin is a standing insult: you are now to God’s face insulting him, by continuing an unbeliever.

And, I must add, that there is also in unbelief an insult against every attribute of God. The unbeliever in effect declares, “If the justice of God is seen in laying the punishment of sin upon Christ-I do not care for his justice, I will bear my own punishment.” The sinner seems to say, “God is merciful in the gift of Christ to suffer in our stead-I do not want his mercy, I can do without it. Others may be guilty, and they may trust in the Redeemer, but I do not feel such guilt, and I will not sue for pardon.” Unbelievers attack the wisdom of God, for, whereas the wisdom of God is in its fullness revealed in the gift of Jesus, they say, “It is a dogma, unphilosophical, and worn-out.” They count the wisdom of God to be foolishness, and thus cast a slight upon another of the divine attributes. I might in detail mention every one of the attributes and prerogatives of God, and prove that your non-acceptance of the Saviour is an insult to every one of them, and to God himself: but the theme is too sad for us to continue upon it, and, therefore, let us pass to another phase of the subject, though I fear it will be equally grievous.

Thirdly, let us consider the causes of this unbelief.

In a great many, unbelief may be ascribed to a careless ignorance of the way of salvation. Now, I should not wonder if many of you imagine that, if you do not understand the gospel, you are therefore quite excused for not believing it. But, sirs, it is not so. You are placed in this world, not as heathens in the centre of Africa, but in enlightened England, where you live in the full blaze of gospel day. There are places of worship all around you, which you can without difficulty attend. The book of God is very cheap: you have it in your houses; you can all read it or hear it read. Is it so, then, that the King has been pleased to reveal himself to you, and tell you the way to salvation, and yet you, at the age of twenty, thirty, or forty, do not know the way of salvation? What do you mean, sir? What can you mean? Has God been pleased to reveal himself in Scripture, and tell you how to escape from hell and fly to heaven, and yet have you been too idle to inquire into that way? Dare you say to God, “I do not think it worth my while to learn what thou hast revealed, neither do I care to know of the gift which thou hast bestowed on men.” How can you think that such ignorance is an excuse for your sin? What could be a more gross aggravation of it? If you do not know, you ought to know; if you have not learned the gospel message, you might have learned it, for there are some of us whose language it is not difficult for even the most illiterate to understand, and who would, if we caught ourselves using a hard word, retract it, and put it into little syllables, so that not even a child’s intellect need be perplexed by our language. Salvation’s way is plain in the book; those words, “Believe and live,” are in this Christian England almost as legible and as universally to be seen as though they were printed on the sky. That trust in the Lord Jesus saves the soul is well-known news. But, if you still say you have not known all this, then I reply, “Dear sir, do try to know it. Go to the Scriptures, study them, see what is there. Hear, also, the gospel, for it is written, “Incline your ear to come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live.” “Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” For your soul’s sake I charge you, be no longer ignorant of that which you must know, or else must perish.

In some others, the cause is indifference. They do not think the matter to be of any very great consequence. They are aware that they are not quite right, but they have a notion that somehow or other they will get right at last; and, meanwhile, it does not trouble them. Oh man, I pray thee as thy fellow creature let me speak with thee a word of expostulation. God declares that his wrath abides upon you as an unbeliever, and do you call that nothing? God says, “I am angry with you,” and you say to him, “I do not care, it is of very small importance to me. The rise or fall of the consols is of much more consequence than whether God is angry with me or not. My dinner being done to a turn concerns me a great deal more than whether the infinite God loves me or hates me.” That is the English of your conduct, and I put it to you whether there can be a higher impertinence against your Creator, or a direr form of arrogant revolt against the eternal Ruler. If it does not trouble you that God is angry with you, it ought to trouble you; and it troubles me that it does not trouble you. We have heard of persons guilty of murder, whose behaviour during the trial has been cool and self-possessed. The coolness with which they pleaded “not guilty” has been all of a piece with the hardness of heart which led them to the bloody deed. He who is capable of great crime is also incapable of shame concerning it. A man who is able to take pleasure and be at ease while God is angry with him shows that his heart is harder than steel.

In certain cases, the root of this unbelief lies in another direction. It is fed by pride. The person who is guilty of it does not believe that he needs a Saviour. His notion is that he will do his very best, attend the church or the meeting-house very regularly, subscribe occasionally or frequently, and go to heaven partly by what he does, and partly by the merits of Christ. So that not believing in Christ is not a matter of any great consequence with him, because he is not naked, and poor, and miserable; but he is rich, and increased in goods in spiritual things. To be saved by faith is a religion for harlots, and drunkards, and thieves; but for respectable persons such as he is, who have kept the law from their youth up, he does not see any particular need of laying hold upon Christ. Such conduct reminds me of the words of Cowper:-

“Perish the virtue, as it ought, abhorr’d,

And the fool with it that insults his Lord.”

God believed it needful, in order to save man, that the Redeemer should die; yet you self-righteous ones evidently think that death a superfluity: for if a man could save himself, why did the Lord descend and die to save him? If there be a way to heaven by respectability and morality without Christ, what is the good of Christ? It is utterly useless to have an expiator and a meditator, if men are so good that they do not require them. You tell God to his face that he lies unto you, that you are not so sinful as he would persuade you, that you do not need a substitute and sacrifice as he says you do. Oh, sirs, this pride of yours is an arrogant rebellion against God. Look at your fine actions, you that are so good-your motives are base, your pride over what you have done has defiled, with black fingers, all your acts. Inasmuch as you prefer your way to God’s way, and prefer your righteousness to God’s righteousness, the wrath of God abideth on you.

Perhaps I have not hit the reason of your unbelief, therefore let me speak once more. In many love of sin rather than any boasted self-righteousness keeps them from the Saviour. They do not believe in Jesus, not because they have any doubt about the truths of Christianity, but because they have an enslaving love for their favourite sin. “Why,” saith one, “if I were to believe in Christ, of course, I must obey him-to trust and to obey go together. Then I could not be the drunkard I am, I could not trade as I do, I could not practise secret licentiousness, I could not frequent the haunts of the ungodly, where laughter is occasioned by sin, and mirth by blasphemy. I cannot give up these my darling sins.” Perhaps, this sinner hopes that one day, when he cannot any longer enjoy his sin, he will meanly sneak out of it, and try to cheat the devil of his soul; but, meanwhile, he prefers the pleasures of sin to obedience to God, and unbelief to acceptance of his salvation. O sweet sin! O bitter sin! How art thou murdering the souls of men! As certain serpents before they strike their prey fix their eyes upon it and fascinate it, and then at last devour it, so does sin fascinate the foolish sons of Adam; they are charmed with it, and perish for it. It yields but a momentary joy, and the wage thereof is eternal misery, yet are men enamoured of it. The ways of the strange woman, and the paths of uncleanness lead most plainly to the chambers of death, yet are men attracted thereto as moths by the blaze of the candle, and so are they destroyed. Alas! that men wantonly dash against the rocks of dangerous lusts, and perish wilfully beneath the enchantment of sin. Sad pity it is to prefer a harlot to the eternal God, to prefer a few pence made by dishonesty to heaven itself, to prefer the gratification of the belly to the love of the Creator, and the joy of being reconciled and saved. It was a dire insult to God when Israel set up a golden calf, and said, “These be thy gods, O Israel.” Shall the image of an ox that eateth grass supplant the living God! He that had strewn the earth with manna, had made Sinai to smoke with his presence, and the whole wilderness to tremble beneath his marchings, is he to be thrust aside by the image of a bullock that hath horns and hoofs? Will men prefer molten metal to the infinitely holy and glorious Jehovah? But, surely, the preference of a lust to God is a greater insult still: to obey our passions rather than his will, and to prefer sin to his mercy; this is the crime of crimes. May God delive us from it, for his mercy’s sake.

We have heavy tidings in the last head of my discourse, the terrible result of unbelief. “He shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.” “The wrath of God!” No words can ever fully explain this expression. Holy Whitfield, when he was preaching, would often hold up his hands, and, with tears streaming down his eyes, would exclaim, “Oh, the wrath to come! the wrath to come!” Then would he pause because his emotions checked his utterance. The wrath of God! I confess I feel uneasy if anybody is angry with me, and yet one can bear the anger of foolish, hot-tempered persons with some equanimity. But the wrath of God is the anger of one who is never angry without a cause, one who is very patient and long-suffering. It takes much to bring the choler into Jehovah’s face, yet is he wroth with unbelievers. He is never wroth with anything because it is feeble and little, but only because it is wrong. His anger is only his holiness set on fire. He cannot bear sin; who would wish that he should? What right-minded man would desire God to be pleased with evil? That were to make a devil of God. Because he is God, he must be angry with sin wherever it is. This makes the sting of it, that his wrath is just and holy anger. It is the anger, remember, of an Omnipotent Being, who can crush us as easily as a moth. It is the anger of an Infinite Being, and therefore infinite anger, the heights and depths and breadths and lengths of which no man can measure. Only the incarnate God ever fully knew the power of God’s anger. It is beyond all conception, yet, the anger rests on you my hearer. Alas, for you, if you are an unbeliever, for this is your state before God. It is no fiction of mine, but the word of inspired truth: “the wrath of God abideth on him.”

Then notice the next word, it “abideth,” this is to say, it is upon you now. He is angry with you at this moment,-and always. You go to sleep with an angry God gazing into your face, you wake in the morning, and if your eye were not dim, you would perceive his frowning countenance. He is angry with you, even when you are singing his praises, for you mock him with solemn sounds, upon a thoughtless tongue; angry with you on your knees, for you only pretend to pray, you utter words without heart. As long as you are not a believer, he must be angry with you every moment. “God is angry with the wicked every day.”

That the text saith it abideth, and the present tense takes a long sweep, for it always will abide on you. But may you not, perhaps, escape from it, by ceasing to exist? The text precludes such an idea. Although it says, that you “shall not see life,” it teaches that God’s wrath is upon you, so that the absence of life is not annihilation. Spiritual life belongs only to believers; you are now without that life, yet you exist, and wrath abides on you, and so it ever must be. While you shall not see life, you shall exist in eternal death, for the wrath of God cannot abide on a non-existent creature. You shall not see life, but you shall feel wrath to the uttermost. It is horror enough that wrath should be on you now, it is horror upon honors, and hell upon hell, that it shall be upon you for ever.

And notice that it must be so, because you reject the only thing that can heal you. As George Herbert says, “Whom oils and balsams kill, what salve can cure?” If Christ himself has become a savour of death unto death unto you, because you reject him, how can you be saved? There is but one door, and if you close it by your unbelief, how can you enter heaven? There is one healing medicine, and, if you refuse to take it, what remains but death? There is one water of life, but you refuse to drink it; then must you thirst for ever. You put from you, voluntarily, the one only Redeemer; how then shall you be ransomed? Shall Christ die again, and in another state be offered to you once more? O sirs, you would reject him then as you reject him now. But there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. On the cross, God’s mercy to the sons of men was fully revealed, and will you reject God’s ultimatum of grace; his last appeal to you. If so, it is at your own peril: Christ being raised from the dead, dieth no more; he shall come again, but without a sin offering unto the salvation of his people.

Remember, sirs, that the wrath of God will produce no saving or softening effect. It has been suggested that a sinner, after suffering God’s wrath awhile, may repent, and so escape from it. But our observation and experience prove that the wrath of God never softened anybody’s heart yet, and we believe it never will: those who are are suffering divine wrath will go on to harden, and harden, and harden; the more they suffer, the more they will hate: the more they are punished, the more will they sin. The wrath of God abiding on you will produce no good results to you, but rather you shall go from evil to evil, further and further from the presence of God.

The reason why the wrath of God abides on an unbeliever is partly because all his other sins remain on him. There is no sin that shall damn the man who believes, and nothing can save the man who will not believe. God removes all sin the moment we believe; but while we believe not, fresh cords fasten upon us our transgressions. The sin of Judah is written as with an iron pen, and graven with a point of a diamond. Nothing can release you from guilt while your heart remains at enmity with Jesus Christ your Lord.

Remember that God has never taken an oath, that I know of, against any class of persons, except unbelievers. “To whom sware he that they should not enter into his rest, but to them that believed not?” Continued unbelief God never will forgive, because his word binds him not to do so. Doth he swear an oath, and shall he go back from it? It cannot be. O that you might have grace to relinquish your unbelief, and close in with the gospel, and be saved.

Now, I hear some one object, “You tell us that certain people are under the wrath of God, but they are very prosperous.” I reply, that yonder bullock will be slaughtered. Yet it is being fattened. And your prosperity, O ungodly man, is but a fattening of you for the slaughter of justice. Ay, but you say, “They are very merry, and some of those who are forgiven are very sad.” Mercy lets them be merry while they may. We have heard of men who, when driven to Tyburn in a cart, could drink and laugh as they went to the gallows. It only proved what bad men they were. And so, whereas the guilty can yet take comfort, it only proves their guiltiness.

Let me ask what ought to be your thoughts concerning these solemn truths which I have delivered to you? I know what my thoughts were; they made me go to my bed unhappy. They made me very grateful because I hope I have believed in Jesus Christ; yet they made me start in the night, and wake this morning with a load upon me. I come here to say to you, must it be so that you will always remain unbelievers, and abide under the wrath of God? If it must be so, and the dread conclusion seems forced upon me, at any rate, do look it in the face, do consider it. If you are resolved to be damned, know what you are at. Take advise and consider. O sirs, it cannot need any argument to convince you that it is a most wretched thing to be now under the wrath of God. You cannot want any argument to show that it must be a blessed thing to be forgiven-you must see that. It is not your reason that wants convincing, it is your heart that wants renewing.

The whole gospel lies in this nutshell. Come, thou guilty one, just as thou art, and rest thyself upon the finished work of the Saviour, and take him to be thine for ever. Trust Jesus now. In your present position it may be done. God’s Holy Spirit blessing your mind, you may at this moment say, “Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief.” You may now confide in Jesus, and some who came in here unforgiven, may make the angels sing because they go down yonder steps saved souls, whose transgressions are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. God knoweth one thing, that if I knew by what study and what art I could learn to preach the gospel so as to affect your hearts I would spare no cost or pains. For the present, I have aimed simply to warn you, not with adornment of speech, lest the power should be the power of man; and now I leave my message, and commit it to him who shall judge the quick and the dead. But this know, if ye receive not the Son, I shall be a swift witness against you. God grant it be not so, for his mercy’s sake. Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon-Hebrews 2:14-18; Hebrews 3.

OUR WATCHWORD

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, October 1st, 1871, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Let such as love thy salvation say continually, Let God be magnified.”-Psalm 70:4.

These words occur at least three times in the book of Psalms, and therefore we may regard them as especially important. When God speaks once, twice, thrice, he doth as it were awaken us to peculiar attention, and call for prompt obedience to what he saith. Let us not be deaf to the divine voice, but let each one say, “Speak Lord, for thy servant heareth.”

You will observe that in this, and in the fortieth Psalm, this holy saying is put in opposition to the ungodly speeches of persecutors. The wicked say, “Aha, aha,” therefore let those who love God’s salvation have a common watchword with which to silence the malicious mockeries of the ungodly; let them say, “Let God be magnified.” The earnestness of the wicked should be a stimulus to the fervency of the righteous. Surely, if God’s enemies do not spare blasphemy and profanity, if they are always upon the watch to find reasons for casting reproach upon the name and church of Christ, we ought to be more than equally vigilant and diligent in spreading abroad the knowledge of the gospel, which magnifies the name of the Lord. Would to God his church were half as earnest as the synagogue of Satan! Oh that we had, in our holy cause, a tithe of the indefatigable spirit of those Scribes and Pharisees, who compass sea and land to make one proselyte! Even the archfiend shames us by his persevering industry, for he goeth up and down in the earth seeking whom he may destroy!

The clause which we have selected for our text also follows immediately after another which may be looked upon as a stepping-stone to it. Before we can love God’s salvation, we must be seekers of it; hence we read, “Let all those that seek thee rejoice and be glad in thee.” There is a duty peculiar to seekers, let them see to it; and then there follows a further obligation peculiar to those who have found what they sought for. Let joy and rejoicing be first realised by the seeker through his receiving personally the grace of God, and then let us go on to a stage further. The fresh convert has his business mainly within; it will be well for him if his heart can, in sincerity, be glad in the Lord. When believers are young and feeble they are not fit for the battle; therefore, let them tarry at home awhile, and under their vine and fig-tree eat the sweet fruits of the gospel, none making them afraid. We do not send our children to hard service; we wait till their limbs are developed, and then appoint them their share in life’s labours. Let the newly called be carried like lambs in the Saviour’s bosom, and borne as on eagles’ wings. “Let all those that seek thee rejoice and be glad in thee.” But when men have advanced beyond the earliest stage, when they are persuaded that Christ is theirs, and that they have been adopted into the family of God, then let them cheerfully accept active service. Let it not be now the main concern with them to possess a joyous experience on their own account, but let them studiously seek the good of their fellow creatures, and the glory of God. Strong men have strength given them that they may bear burdens and perform labours; light is this burden and blessed is this labour. Let them “say continually, Let God be magnified.” I shall, therefore, hope that anything of earnest exhortation which shall be addressed to believers at this time, will come with double power to those of you who are advanced in the divine life. The more you know of God’s salvation the more you will love it, and the more you love it the more are you bound to recognise the sacred duty and privilege of saying continually, “Let God be magnified.” May each one of you here be willing to take up the obligation if you have enjoyed the benefit.

It may simplify our discourse this morning if we arrange it under three heads. Here is, first, the character: “They that love thy salvation. Here is, secondly, the saying: “Let them say continually, Let God be magnified. And here is, thirdly, the wish, the wish of the psalmist and of the psalmist’s Master, that all who answer to the character shall use the watchword, and “say continually, Let God be magnified.”

We will begin, then, by discriminating the character.

The individuals here spoken of are those who love God’s salvation. Then it is implied that they are persons who are saved, because it is not according to nature to love a salvation in which we have no part. We may admire the salvation which is preached, but we shall only love the salvation which is experienced. We may hold orthodox views as to salvation, though not ourselves saved; but we shall not have earnest affection towards it unless we are ourselves redeemed by it from the wrath to come. Saved ones, then, are meant here, and we may add that they are so saved as to be assured of it, and consequently to feel the warm glow of ardent, grateful love. They love God’s salvation because they have grasped it; they possess it, they know they possess it, and, therefore, they prize it, and their hearts are wedded to it. Beloved, I hope that the large proportion of this congregation could say before the heart searching God, “We are saved; we have come all guilty and heavy laden to the foot of the cross; we have looked up, we have seen the flowing of the Saviour’s precious blood, we have trusted in him as our atoning sacrifice, and by faith we have received full pardon through his precious blood.” Happy people who have this blessing and know it! May no doubts ever becloud your sky! May you clearly read your titles to the mansions in the skies, written legibly and indelibly in the precious blood of Jesus Christ your Saviour. You are the persons to whom we speak to-day; you know, and therefore love the salvation of God.

But, more than this, to sustain and bring to perfection in the renewed heart an ardent affection towards the divine salvation of a sort that will continue, and become practically fruitful, there must be an intelligent consideration, and an instructed apprehension as to the character of this salvation. It is a great pity that so many professors have only a religion of feeling, and are quite unable to explain and justify their faith. They live by passion, rather than by principle. Religion is in them a series of paroxysms, a succession of emotions. They were stirred up at a certain meeting, excited, and carried away, and let us hope they were really and sincerely converted: but they have failed to become to the fullest extent disciples or learners. They do not sit at Jesus’ feet, they are not Bereans who search the Scriptures daily to see whether these things be so: they are content with the mere rudiments, the simple elements: they are still little children and have need to be fed with milk, for they cannot digest the strong meat of the kingdom. Such persons do not discern so many reasons for admiring and loving the salvation of God, as the intelligent enlightened Spirit-taught believer. I would to God that all of us, after we have received Christ, meditated much upon his blessed person, and the details of his work, and the various streams of blessings which leap forth from the central fount of Calvary’s sacrifice. All Scripture is profitable, but especially those Scriptures which concern our salvation. Some things lose by observation, they are most wondered at when least understood; but the gospel gains by study: no man is ever wearied in meditating upon it, nor does he find his admiration diminished, but abundantly increased. Blessed is he who studies the gospel both day and night, and finds his heart’s delight in it. Such a man will have a steadier and intenser affection for it, in proportion as he perceives its excellence and surpassing glory. The man who receives the gospel superficially, and holds it as a matter of impression and little more, being quite unable to give a reason for the hope that is in him, lacks that which would confirm and intensify his love.

Now, let me show you, beloved, what it is in salvation that the thoughtful believer loves; and I may begin by saying that he loves, best of all, the Saviour himself. Often our Lord is called Salvation, because he is the great worker of it, the author and finisher, the Alpha and the Omega of it. He who has Christ has salvation; and, as he is the essence of salvation, he is the centre of the saved ones’ affection. Have you, beloved, carefully considered that Jesus is divine, that he counts it not robbery to be equal with God, being our Creator and Preserver, as well as our Redeemer? Do you fully understand that our Lord is infinite, eternal, nothing less than God; and yet for our sakes he took upon himself our nature, was clothed in that nature with all its infirmities, sin alone excepted, and in that nature agonized, bled, and died, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God. Oh, marvel of marvels, miracle of miracles! The immortal Lord stoops to death; the Prince of glory bows to be spit upon. Shame and dishonour could not make him start back from his blessed purpose, but to the death of the cross he surrendered himself. O, you who are saved, do you not love Christ, who is your salvation? Do you not feel a burning desire to behold him as he is? Is not his presence, even now, a nether heaven to you? Will not a face to face view of his glory be all the heaven that your utmost stretch of imagination can conceive? I know it is so. Your heart is bound to Jesus, his name is set as a seal upon it; therefore, I charge you to say continually, “Let God be magnified.” Glory be to the Father who gave his Son, to the Son who gave himself, to the Spirit who revealed all this to us. Triune God, be thou extolled for ever and ever.

But you love not only the Saviour’s person, but I am sure you delight in the plan of salvation. What is that plan? It is summed up in a single word-substitution.

“He bore, that we might never bear,

His Father’s righteous ire.”

Sin was not pardoned absolutely, else justice had been dishonoured; but sin was transferred from the guilty to the innocent One. “The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” When our iniquity was found upon the innocent Lamb of God, he was “smitten of God and afflicted,” as if he had been a sinner; he was made to suffer for transgressions not his own, as if they had been his own; and thus mercy and justice met together, righteousness and grace kissed each other. Alas! there are many who fight against this plan, but I rejoice that I am surrounded by warm hearts who love it, and would die for it. As for me, I know no other gospel, and let this tongue be dumb rather than it should ever preach any other. Substitution is the very marrow of the whole Bible, the soul of salvation, the essence of the gospel; we ought to saturate all our sermons with it, for it is the life-blood of a gospel ministry. We must daily show how God the Judge can be “just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth.” We must declare that God has made the Redeemer’s soul a sacrifice for sin, making him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. Our plain testimony must be, that “he was made a curse for us;” that “he his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree;” that “he was once offered to bear the sins of many;” and that “he was numbered with the transgressors, and he bare the sin of many.” About this we must never speak with bated breath, lest we be found unfaithful to our charge. And why, brethren, should we not joyfully proclaim this doctrine? for is it not the grandest, noblest, most divine, under heaven. The plan so adorns all the attributes of the Godhead, and furnishes such a safe footing for a trembling conscience to rest upon, such a fortress, castle, and high tower for faith to rejoice in, that we cannot do otherwise than love it. The very way and plan of it is dearer to our souls than life itself. Oh, then let us always say, “Let God be magnified,” since he devised, arranged, and carried out this God-like method of blending justice with mercy.

But, beloved, we also love God’s salvation when we consider what was the object of it. The object of it towards us was to redeem unto Christ a people who should be zealeus for good works. The sinner loves a salvation from hell, the saint loves a salvation from sin. Anybody would desire to be saved from the pit, but it is only a child of God who pants to be saved from every false way. We love the salvation of God because it saves us from selfishness, from pride, from lust, from worldliness, bitterness, malice, sloth, and uncleanness. When that salvation is completed in us we shall be “without spot or wrinkle or any such thing,” and shall be renewed in holiness after the image of Christ Jesus our Lord. That its great aim is our perfection in holiness is the main beauty of salvation. We would be content to be poor, but we cannot be content to be sinful; we could be resigned to sickness, but we could not be satisfied to remain in alienation from God. We long for perfection and nothing short of it will content us, and, because this is guaranteed to the believer in the gospel of Christ, we love his salvation, and we would say continually, “Let God be magnified.”

I might thus enlarge upon every part of this salvation, and say that it endears itself to us under every aspect, and from every point of view.

We love his salvation because of one or two characteristics in it which especially excite our delight. Foremost is the matchless love displayed in it. Why should the Lord have loved men, such insignificant creatures as they are, compared with the universe? Why should he set his heart upon such nothings? But more, how could he love rebellious men who have wantonly and arrogantly broken his laws? Why should he love them so much as to give up his only begotten? These are things we freely speak of, but who among us knows what is their weight. “God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” I believe that even in heaven, with enlarged faculties, it will be a subject of perpetual wonder to us that ever God could love and save us. And shall we not love the salvation which wells up from the deep fount of the Father’s everlasting affection? O brethren, our hearts must be harder than adamant, and made of hell-hardened steel, if we can at once believe that we are saved and yet not love, intensely love the salvation which was devised by Jehovah’s heart.

We love his salvation, again, because, in addition to the display of wondrous love, it is so safe a salvation, so real, so true: we have not given heed to cunningly devised fables; we have not chanced our souls upon a fiction. We run no risk when we trust the Saviour. Though one of our hymns puts it:-

“Venture on Him, venture wholly,

Let no other trust intrude.”

This is only a condescension to the feelings of trembling unbelievers, for there is no venture in it; it is sure and certain. Did God lay on Christ my sin? Was it really punished in him? Then there cannot exist a reason why I should be condemned, but there are ten thousand arguments why I should for ever be “accepted in the beloved.” “Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.” Substitution is a basis for intelligent confidence; it satisfies both the demands of the law and the fears of conscience; and gives to believers a deep, settled, substantial peace, which cannot be broken. We love this salvation because we feel that it places a foundation of granite beneath our feet instead of the quicksand of human merit. Justice being satisfied is as much our friend as even mercy herself; in fact, all the attributes unite to guarantee our safety.

We love God’s salvation, too, because it is so complete. Nothing remains unfinished which is necessary to remove sin from the believer and give him righteousness before God. As far as atonement for sin is concerned, the expiation is most gloriously complete. Remember that remarkable expression of the apostle, where he describes the priests as continually standing at the altar, offering sacrifice year by year, and even day by day, because atonement by such means could never be finished. Such sacrifices could never take away sin; therefore must they be perpetually offered, and the priest must always stand at the altar. “But,” saith the apostle, “this man (our great Melchisedec), after he had offered one sacrifice for sin for ever, sat down (for the work was accomplished), sat down at the right hand of God.” Jesus has performed what the Aaronic priesthood, in long succession, had failed to do. Though streams of blood might flow from bullock, and from goat, like Kishon’s mighty river, and though incense might smoke till the pile thereof was high as Lebanon, with all her goodly cedars, what was there in all this to make propitiation for sin? The work was but shadowed, the real expiation was not offered; it was a fair picture, but the substance itself was not there. But, when our Divine Lord went up to Calvary, and on the cross gave up his body, his soul, his spirit, a sacrifice for sin, he finished transgression, made an end of sin, and brought in everlasting righteousness. Herein, my brethren, we have strong consolation, the immutable things wherein it is impossible for God to lie, his word and oath, are our immovable security. By the atonement we are infallibly, effectually, eternally saved, for he has become the “author of eternal salvation, unto all them that obey him.” How we love this salvation! Our inmost heart rejoices in it! I rejoice to preach it, brethren, and I delight to muse upon it, appropriating it to myself by faith in solitary thought. How it makes the tears stream down one’s cheeks with joy, to think “He loved me, and gave himself for me: he took my sins, and he destroyed them, they have ceased to be, they are annihilated, they are blotted out like a cloud, and like a thick cloud have they vanished.” Surely, we should have lost sanity, as well as grace, if we did not love this salvation, beyond the choicest joys of earth.

Thus I have described the character, and now, secondly, we will meditate on the saying. Every nation has its idiom, every language has its shibboleth, almost every district has its proverb. Behold the idiom of gracious souls, listen to their household word, their common proverb,-it is this, “Let God be magnified! Let God be magnified!”

Let us proceed at once to the consideration of it, I trust it belongs to us, it certainly does if we love his salvation.

Observe that this is a saying which is founded upon truth and justice. “Let God be magnified,” for it is he that saved us, and not we ourselves. We trace our salvation not to our ministers, nor to any pretentious priesthood. None can divide the honours of grace, for the Lord alone hath turned our captivity. He decreed our salvation, planned it, arranged it, executed it, applied it, and secures it. From beginning to end salvation is of the Lord, therefore, let God be magnified. Moreover, the Lord wrought salvation that he might be magnified thereby. It was God’s object in salvation to glorify his own name. “Not for your sakes do I this, O house of Israel.” Truly we desire that the Lord’s end and purpose should be fully subserved, for it is his well-deserved due. O thou who hast bled upon the cross, may thy throne be glorious! O thou who wast despised and rejected of men, be thou extolled, and be thou very high. Thou deservest all glory, great and merciful God. Such a gift, such a sacrifice, such a work; thou oughtest indeed to be lauded and had in honour by all the intelligent universe. The saying is settled deep in truth, and established in right.

This saying is naturally suggested by love. It is because we love his salvation that we say, “The Lord be magnified.” You cannot love God without desiring to magnify him, and I am sure that you cannot know that you are saved without loving him. For here is a wonder, a central wonder of wonders to many of us, that ever we in particular were saved. I do not think I could be so wonder-struck and amazed at the salvation of you all as at my own. I should know it to be infinite mercy that saved any one of you, or all of you, I say I should know it, but in my own case I feel it is an unspeakable and inconceivably great mercy which has saved me; and I suppose each brother here, each sister here will feel a special love to Christ from the fact of being himself or herself an object of his love. We never sing, I am sure, with warmer hearts any hymn in our hymn-book than that one-

“What was there in us that could merit esteem,

Or give the Creator delight?

Twas even so Father, we ever must sing,

For so it seemed good in thy sight.”

The Lord might have left as he has left others to carry out their own wills, and wilfully to reject the Saviour, but since he has made us willing in the day of his power, we are for ever beyond measure under obligations to him. Let us say continually, “The Lord be magnified, which hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servants.”

Moreover, this saying of our text is deeply sincere and practical. I am sure David did not wish to see hypocrites multiplied; but such would be the case if men merely said, “Let God be magnified,” and did not mean it. No doubt there is a great deal among professors of mere expression without meaning; it is sadly evident that much godly talk is only talk, but it ought not so to be. You know, how often charity is assumed, and men say to the naked and hungry, “Be ye warmed, and be ye filled;” but they give nothing to the poor, except vain words, which cannot profit them. So, too, often professors will sing:-

“Fly abroad, thou mighty gospel,

Win and conquer, never cease;

May thy lasting wide dominion

Multiply and still increase.”

and so on; but there it ends; they have said it, but they have done nothing for it. Now, as he is condemned as a hypocrite who merely utters words of charity without deeds, so is he who shall say, “Let God be magnified,” but who does not put forth his hand and throw in all his energies to promote that which he professes to desire. The wish must be, and oh! if we are saved by grace, it will be sincere, intense, and fervent in every believing heart.

Moreover, it must not only be sincere, but it must be paramount. I take it that there is nothing which a Christian man should say continually, except this, “Let God be magnified.” That which a man may say continually is assuredly the master-thought of his mind. Listen to the cherubim and seraphim; they continually do cry, “Holy! Holy! Holy! Lord God of Hosts!” Why cry they thus continually? Is it not because it is their chief business, their highest delight? So should it be with us; our end and aim should ever be to glorify him who redeemed us by his most precious blood. You are a citizen, but you are more a Christian. You are a father, but you are more a child of God. You are a labourer, but you are most of all a servant of the Most High. You are wealthy, but yet more enriched by his covenant. You are poor, but you are most emphatically rich if Christ is yours. The first, chief, leading, lordly, master-thought within you must be this, “Let God be magnified.”

And, brethren, the text tells us this must be continual. How earnest you feel about the cause of Christ when you have heard an inspiriting sermon, but how long does it last? Ah, those old days of mission enterprise, when Exeter Hall used to be crowded because missionaries had interesting stories to tell of what God was doing-what enthusiasm there used to be-where is it now? Where is it now? Echo might well answer “where is it now?” To a great degree it has departed. The zeal of many rises and falls like a barometer. They are hot as fire, and cold as ice, in the shortest space; their fervour is as transient as the flame of thorns, and hence it is very hard to turn it to any practical account. Oh, for more of the deep-seated principle of intense love to God’s salvation, steady and abiding, which shall make a man say continually, “Let God be magnified.” We would desire to wake up in the morning with this on our lips. We would begin with the enquiry, “What can I do to magnify God this day?” We would be in business in the middle of the day, and yet never lose the one desire to magnify God. We would return to our family at night, urged by the same impulse, “How can I magnify God in my household?” If I lie sick, I would feel that I must magnify God by patience; if I rise from that bed, I would feel the sweet obligation to magnify him by gratitude; if I take a prominent position, I am doubly bound to magnify him who makes me a leader to his flock; and, if I be unknown and obscure in the church, I must with equal zeal magnify him by a conscientious discharge of the duties of my position. Oh, to have one end always before us, and to press forward towards it, neither turning to the right hand nor to the left. As though we were balls shot out of a rifled cannon we would rush on, never hesitating or turning aside, but flying with all speed towards the centre of the target. May our spirits be impelled by a divine energy towards this one only thing. The Lord be magnified! whether I live or die, may God be glorified in me!

According to the text, this saying should be universal among the saints. It should be the mark of all those that love God’s salvation, pertaining not to a few who shall be chosen to minister in public, but to all those whom grace has renewed. All of us, women as well as men, illiterate as well as learned, poor as well as rich, silent as well as eloquent, should after our own ability say, “Let God be magnified.” Oh, would to God we were all stirred up to this! Our churches seem to be half alive. It is a dreadful thing to read of the punishment practised by ancient tyrants when they tied a living man to a corpse, and he had to go about with this corpse strapped to him, and rotting under his nostrils, and yet that is too often the condition of the living ones in our churches: they are bound by ties of church union to a portion of the church which is spiritually dead, though not so manifestly corrupt as to render it possible for us to cut it off. The tares, which we may not root up, hamper and dwarf the wheat. O God, the Holy Ghost, make the church alive right through, from the crown of its head to the sole of its foot, so that the whole church may cry continually, “Let God be magnified.”

You will notice that the cry is an absolute one. It does not say, let God be magnified by me if he will please to make me successful in business, and happy, and healthy, but it leaves it open. Only let God be magnified, and he may do what he wills with me. As a poor soldier in the regiment of Christ, I only care for this that he may win the day, and if I see him riding on his white horse and know that he is conquering, though I lie bleeding and wounded in a ditch, I will clap my hands and say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Though I be poor, and despised, and reproached, this shall compensate for all, if I can only hear that “him hath God highly exalted, and given him a name that is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” I would close my eyes in death, and say, my soul is satisfied with favour and hath all she wants if Jesus be exalted. Remember how David put it: when he had said “Let the whole earth be filled with his glory,” he added, “Amen and amen. The prayers of David, the son of Jesse, are ended.” He desired no more than that; that was the ultimatum of his wishes. Beloved, I trust it the same with us.

Nor is there any limit as to place or persons. My heart says, “Let God be magnified among the Wesleyans! The Lord be magnified among the Independents! The Lord be magnified among the Episcopalians! The Lord be magnified among the Baptists!” We pray very earnestly, “Let God be magnified in the Tabernacle,” but we would not forget to cry, “Let God be magnified in all parts of London, in all counties of England, and Scotland, and Ireland.” We desire no restriction as to race-let God be magnified both in France and in Prussia; in Turkey and in Italy; in the United States and in Australia; among any and every people! So that God’s name be magnified, what matters it how or where? We know no politics but this, “Let God be magnified.” All nationalities sink before our relation to our God. Christians are cosmopolitan; we are burgesses of the New Jerusalem-there is our citizenship; we are freemen of the entire new creation. What is all else to God’s glory? So long as the Lord is glorified, let the empires go and the emperors with them; let nations rise or fall, so long as he comes whose right it is to reign; let ancient dynasties pass away, if his throne is but exalted. We would never dictate to the God of history; let him write out as he pleases the stanzas of his own august poem, but let this always be the close of every verse, “The Lord be magnified! The Lord be magnified! The Lord be magnified!” This is the continual saying of all them that love his salvation.

We had much to say under our second head, but time will not tarry for us; therefore we must proceed to the last, which is the wish. Holy David, and David’s perfect Lord both wish that we may say, “Let God be magnified.” This wish is promoted by an anxiety for God’s glory; it is a most holy wish, and it ought to be fulfilled. I shall ask your attention only for a minute or two to the reasons of the wish. Why should it be wished?

First, because it always ought to be said, “Let God be magnified.” It is only right, and according to the fitness of things, that God should be magnified in the world which he himself created. Such a handiwork deserves admiration from all who behold it. But when he new-made the world, and especially when he laid the foundation of his new palace in the fair colours of Jesus’ blood, and adorned it with the sapphires of grace and truth; he had a double claim upon our praise. He gave his Son to redeem us, and for this let his praise be great and endless. Things are out of joint if God the Redeemer be not glorified. Surely the wheels of nature revolve amiss, if God the loving and gracious be not greatly magnified. As every right-hearted man desires to see right and justice done, therefore does he wish that those who love God’s salvation may say continually, “Let God be magnified.”

But, we wish it next, because it always needs saying. The world is dull and sleepy, and utterly indifferent to the glory of God in the work of redemption. We need to tell it over and over and over again, that God is great in the salvation of his people. There are many, who will rise up and deny God’s glory; revilers of all sorts abound in rage; but over and above their clamour, let the voice of truth be heard, “Let God be magnified.” They cry, “the Bible is worn out.” They doubt its inspiration, they question the deity of Christ, they set up new gods that have lately come up, that our fathers knew not. Let us confront them with the truth, let us oppose them with the gospel, let us overcome them through the blood of the Lamb, using this one only war-cry, “Let God be magnified.” Everywhere in answer to all blasphemy, in direct conflict with profanity, let us lift up this voice with heart and soul. “Let God be magnified.”

And, again, we desire this, because the saying of this continually does good to the sayers. He who blesses God blesses himself. We cannot serve God with the heart without serving ourselves most practically. Nothing, brethren, is more for your benefit than to spend and be spent for the promotion of the divine honour.

Then, again, this promotes the welfare of God’s creatures. We ought to desire to spread the knowledge of God, because the dark places of the earth will never cease to be the habitation of cruelty till they become the temple of the Lord of hosts. Myriads are dying, while we are sitting complacently here souls are passing into eternity unforgiven. The wrath of God is abiding still upon the sons of men, for they know not Christ. What stronger motive could there be for desiring that God’s name should continually be magnified. I have been told, and I believe it is the general impression, that at this particular time there is a great cessation of the zealous spirit which once ruled among Christians. We have passed over the heroic age, the golden period of missions, and we have come to the time in which the church rests upon her oars, takes matters quietly, what if I say regards them hopelessly? Very few young men are now coming forward, at least in our denomination, to offer themselves for missionaries; the funds are barely sustained and nothing more. I fear there is among those who conduct the affairs of missions too little of faith, and too much of bastard prudence, which last had better be banished to the bottomless pit at once, for it has long been the clog upon the chariot wheels of the gospel. Faith is too much cast into the background, and the work is viewed in a mercantile light, as though it were a rule of three sum-so much money and so many men, and then so many conversions, whereas it is not so. God worketh not according to arithmetical rules and calculations. There is, I fear, on the whole, a general backsliding from the right state; and what a sad thing it is that it should be so, since at our best we were never too zealous. Few can bring the charge of fanaticism against the English Baptists: we have been too solid, if not stolid, for that. I almost wish it were possible for us to err in that direction, for if an evil it would at any rate be a novelty, if not an improvement.

Why is this, and whence comes it? Years ago our fathers compassed this Jericho, they passed round it according to the Master’s bidding, and are we about, after having done the same these many years, to relinquish the task, and lose the result? Do we fear that the walls will never fall to the ground? Brethren, I believe it is the duty of the Christian church to go on working quite as earnestly and zealously and believingly, if there be no conversions, as if half the world were transformed in a twelvemonth. Our business is not to create a harvest but to sow the seed; if the wheat does not come up, if we have sown it aright, our Master does not hold us responsible. If missions had been au utter failure it would be no sort of reason why we should give them up. There was a great failure when the hosts of Israel, on the first occasion, went round Jericho; a dreadful failure when they marched round the city twice, and the walls shook not; it was an aggravated failure when they had compassed it four times; it was a most discouraging defeat when they had tramped round it five times; and, on the whole, a breakdown, almost enough to drive them to despair, when they had performed the circuit six times and not a single brick had stirred in the wall. Yes; but then the seventh day made amends, when the people shouted and all the walls fell flat to the ground. Brethren, it is not yet time to shout, but we must continue marching and say, “Let God be magnified.” The longer the walls stand, and the longer we wait, the louder will be our shout when they lie prostrate before us, as they shall; for, “Verily, verily, I say unto you there shall not be one stone left upon another that shall not be cast down.” Remember the Greeks when they attacked old Troy: ye have the record in ancient story. They waited many years till their ships had well nigh rotted on the seas, but the prowess of Hector and the armed men of Troy kept back the “King of men,” and all the hosts of the avengers. Suppose that after nine years had dragged along their weary length, the chiefs of the Greeks had said, “It is of no avail, the city is impregnable! O Pelasgi, back to your fair lands washed by the blue Ægean, you will never subdue the valour of Ilium.” No; but they persevered in the weary siege, with feats of strength and schemes of art, till at last they saw the city burned and heard the dire lament: “Troy was, but is no more.”

Let us still continue to attack the adversary. We are few, but strength lies not in numbers. The Eternal One has used the few where he has put aside the many. In our weakness lies part of our adaptation to the divine work; only let us gather up fresh faith, and renew our courage and industry, and we shall see greater things than these. “Pshaw,” says one, “Protestant Christianity is in a miserable minority, it is ridiculous to suppose it will ever be the dominant religion of the world.” We reply, that it is ridiculous, nay blasphemous, to doubt when God has sworn with an oath that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” God’s oath is better evidence than appearances; for, in a moment, if he wills it, he can give such an impetus to the Christian church, that she shall in her enthusiasm spread the gospel, and at the same time he can give such a turn to the human mind, that it shall be as ready to accept the gospel as the church is to spread it. Observe how the church grew during the first few centuries. After the apostles had died you do not find in the next century the name of any very remarkable man, but all Christians then were earnest, and the good cause advanced. They were mostly poor, they were generally illiterate, but they were all missionaries, they were all seeking to glorify God, and, consequently, before long, down went Jupiter, Saturn lost his throne, even Venus was abjured, and the cross, at least nominally, became supreme throughout all Europe. It shall be done again. In the name of the Eternal, let us set up our banners. Ho, ye that love the Lord and his salvation, vow it in your souls, determine it in your hearts, and, God the Holy Spirit being with you, if you have but faith in him, it will be no empty boast, no vain vaunting. God shall speak and it shall be done. The Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge; and such being the case, nothing is impossible to us.

May the Lord stir us up with these thoughts, and fling us like firebrands into the midst of his church and the world, to set both on a blaze with love through the love that burns in our hearts. “Let God be magnified.” Amen and Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Psalm 40.

“NUNC DIMITTIS”

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, October 8th, 1871, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.”-Luke 2:29, 30.

Blessed wert thou, O Simeon, for flesh and blood had not revealed this unto thee; neither had it enabled thee so cheerfully to bid the world farewell. The flesh clings to the earth-it is dust, and owns affinity to the ground out of which it was taken; it loathes to part from mother earth. Even old age, with its infirmities, does not make-men really willing to depart out of this world. By nature we hold to life with a terrible tenacity; and even when we sigh over the evils of life, and repine concerning its ills, and fancy that we wish ourselves away, it is probable that our readiness to depart lies only upon the surface, but down deep in our hearts we have no will to go. Flesh and blood had not revealed unto Simeon that he saw God’s salvation in that babe which he took out of the arms of Mary, and embraced with eager joy. God’s grace had taught him that this was the Saviour, and God’s grace at the same time loosened the cords which bound him to earth, and made him feel the attractions of the better land. Blessed is that man who has received by grace a meetness for heaven, and a willingness to depart to that better land: let him magnify the Lord who has wrought so great a work in him. As Paul says, “Thanks be unto the Father who hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light.” Certainly none of us were meet by nature-not even Simeon; the fitness of the venerable man was all the handiwork of God, and so, also, was his anxiety to obtain the inheritance for which God had prepared him. I trust, brethren, while we consider this morning the preparedness of the saints for heaven, and turn over in our mind those reflections which will make us ready to depart, God’s Holy Spirit, sent forth from the Father, may make us also willing to leave these mortal shores, and launch upon the eternal sea at the bidding of our Father, God.

We shall note, this morning, first, that every believer may be assured of departing in peace; but that, secondly, some believers feel a special readiness to depart now: “Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace;” and, thirdly, that there are words of encouragement to produce in us the like readiness: “according to thy word.” There are words of Holy Writ which afford richest consolation in prospect of departure.

First, then, let us start with the great general principle, which is full of comfort; namely, this, that every believer may be assured of ultimately departing in peace. This is no privilege peculiar to Simeon, it is common to all the saints, since the grounds upon which this privilege rests are not monopolised by Simeon, but belong to us all.

Observe, first, that all the saints have seen God’s salvation, therefore, should they all depart in peace. It is true, we cannot take up the infant Christ into our arms, but he is “formed in us, the hope of glory.” It is true, we cannot look upon him with these mortal eyes, but we have seen him with those eyes immortal which death cannot dim-the eyes of our own spirit which have been opened by God’s Holy Spirit. A sight of Christ with the natural eye is not saving, for thousands saw him and then cried, “Crucify him, crucify him.” After all, it was in Simeon’s case the spiritual eye that saw, the eye of faith that truly beheld the Christ of God; for there were others in the temple who saw the babe; there was the priest who performed the act of circumcision, and the other officials who gathered round the group; but I do not know that any of them saw God’s salvation. They saw the little innocent child that was brought there by its parents, but they saw nothing remarkable in him; perhaps, Simeon and Anna, alone of all those who were in the temple, saw with the inward eye the real Anointed of God revealed as a feeble infant. So, though you and I miss the outward sight of Christ, we need not regret it, it is but secondary as a privilege; if with the inner sight we have seen the Incarnate God, and accepted him as our salvation, we are blessed with holy Simeon. Abraham saw Christ’s day before it dawned, and even thus, after it has passed, we see it, and with faithful Abraham we are glad. We have looked unto him, and we are lightened. We have beheld the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world. In the “despised and rejected of men “we have seen the anointed Saviour; in the crucified and buried One, who afterwards rose again, and ascended into glory, we have seen salvation, full, free, finished. Why, therefore, should we think ourselves less favoured than Simeon? From like causes like results shall spring: we shall depart in peace, for we have seen God’s salvation.

Moreover, believers already enjoy peace as much as ever Simeon did. No man can depart in peace who has not lived in peace; but he who has attained peace in life shall possess peace in death, and an eternity of peace after death. “Being justified by faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Jesus has bequeathed us peace, saying, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.” “For he is our peace,” and “the fruit of the Spirit is peace.” We are reconciled unto God by the death of his Son. Whatever peace flowed in the heart of Simeon, I am sure it was not of a diviner nature than that which dwells in the bosom of every true believer. If sin be pardoned, the quarrel is ended; if the atonement is made, then is peace established, a peace covenanted to endure for ever. We are now led in the paths of peace; we walk the King’s highway, of which it is written, “no lion shall be there;” we are led beside the still waters, and made to lie down in green pastures. We feel no slavish fear of God, though he be “a consuming fire” even to us; we tremble no longer to approach into his presence, who deigns to be our Father. The precious blood upon the mercy-seat has made it a safe place for us to resort at all times; boldness has taken the place of trembling. The throne of God is our rejoicing, though once it was our terror.

“Once ’twas a seat of dreadful wrath,

And shot devouring flame;

Our God appear’d ‘consuming fire,’

And vengeance was his name.”

Therefore, brethren, having peace with God, we may be sure that we shall “depart in peace.” We need not fear that the God of all consolation, who has already enriched us in communion with himself, and peace in Christ Jesus, will desert us at the last. He will help us to sing a sweet swan-song, and our tabernacle shall be gently taken down, to be rebuilt more enduringly in the fair country beyond Jordan.

Furthermore, we may rest assured of the same peace as that which Simeon possessed, since we are, if true believers, equally God’s servants. The text says, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” But, in this case, one servant cannot claim a privilege above the rest of the household. The same position towards God, the same reward from God. Simeon, a servant; you also, my brother, a servant; he who saith to Simeon, “depart in peace,” will say also the same to you. The Lord is always very considerate towards his old servants, and takes care of them when their strength faileth. The Amalekite of old had a servant who was an Egyptian, and when he fell sick he left him, and he would have perished if David had not had compassion on him; but our God is no Amalekite slave-owner, neither doth he cast off his worn-out servants. “Even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.” David felt this, for he prayed to God, and said, “Now, also, when I am old and grey-headed, O God, forsake me not.” If thou hast been clothed in thy Lord’s livery of grace, and taught to obey his will, he will never leave thee, nor forsake thee; he will not sell thee into the hands of thine adversary, nor suffer thy soul to perish. A true master counts it a part of his duty to protect his servants, and our great Lord and Prince will show himself strong on the behalf of the very least of all his followers, and will bring them every one into the rest which remaineth for his people. Do you really serve God? Remember, “his servants ye are to whom ye obey.” Are ye taught of the Spirit to obey the commandments of love? Do you strive to walk in holiness? If so, fear not death; it shall have no terrors to you. All the servants of God shall depart in peace.

There is also another reflection which strengthens our conviction that all believers shall depart in peace, namely, this: that up till now all things in their experience have been according to God’s word. Simeon’s basis of hope for a peaceful departure was “according to thy word;” and, surely, no Scripture is of private interpretation, or is to be reserved for one believer to the exclusion of the rest? The promises of God, which are “Yea and amen in Christ Jesus,” are sure to all the seed: not to some of the children is the promise made, but all the grace-born are heirs. There are not special promises hedged round and set apart for Simeon and a few saints of old time, but with ail who are in Christ, their federal head, the covenant is made, and stands “ordered in all things and sure.” If, then, Simeon, as a believer in the Lord, had a promise that he should depart in peace, I have also a like promise if I am in Christ. What God hath said in his word Simeon lays hold of, and none can say him nay; but if, with the same grace-given faith, I also grasp it for myself, who shall challenge my right? God will not violate his promise to one of his people any more than to another, and, consequently, when our turn shall come to gather up our feet in the bed and to resign our spirit, some precious passage in sacred writ shall be as a rod and a staff to us that we may fear no evil.

These four considerations, gathered out of the text itself, may give fourfold certainty to the assurance that every believer, at the hour of his departure, shall possess peace.

For a moment, review attentively the words of the aged saint: they have much instruction in them. Every believer shall in death depart in the same sense as Simeon did. The word here used is suggestive and encouraging: it may be applied either to escape from confinement, or to deliverance from toil. The Christian man in the present state is like a bird in a cage: his body imprisons his soul. His spirit, it is true, ranges heaven and earth, and laughs at the limits of matter, space, and time; but for all that, the flesh is a poor scabbard unworthy of the glittering soul, a mean cottage unfit for a princely spirit, a clog, a burden, and a fetter. When we would, watch and pray, we find full often that the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. “We that are in this body do groan.” The fact is, we are caged birds; but the day cometh when the great Master shall open the cage door, and release his prisoners. We need not dread the act of unfastening the door, for it will give to our soul the liberty for which it only pines, and then, with the wings of a dove, covered with silver, and its feathers with yellow gold, though aforetime it had lien among the pots, it will soar into its native air, singing all the way with a rapture beyond imagination. Simeon looked upon dying as a mode of being let loose-a deliverance out of durance vile, an escape from captivity, a release from bondage. The like redemption shall be dealt unto us. How often does my soul feel like an unhatched chick, shut up within a narrow shell, in darkness and discomfort! The life within labours hard to chip and break the shell, to know a little more of the great universe of truth, and see in clearer light the infinite of divine love. Oh, happy day, when the shell shall be broken, and the soul, complete in the image of Christ, shall enter into the freedom for which she is preparing! We look for that, and we shall have it. God, who gave us to aspire to holiness and spirituality and to likeness to himself, never implanted those aspirations in us out of mockery. He meant to gratify these holy longings, or, else, he would not have excited them. Ere long we, like Simeon, shall depart-that is, we shall be set free to go in peace.

I said that the word meant also a release from toil. It is as though Simeon had been standing at the table of his Master like a servant waiting on his Lord. You know the parable in which Christ says that the master does not first bid his servant sit down and eat bread, but commands him thus, “Gird thyself and serve me.” See, then, Simeon stands yonder, girt and serving his Master; but by-and-by, when the Master sees fit, he turns round and says to Simeon, “Now thou mayest depart, and take thine own meat, thy work is done.” Or, we may use another simile, and picture Simeon sitting at the King’s gate, like Mordecai, ready for any errand which may be appointed him, but at length his time of attendance expires, and the great monarch bids him depart in peace. Or, yet again, we may view him as a reaper toiling amid the harvest beneath a burning sun, parched with thirst and wearied with labour, and lo! the great Boaz came into the field, and, having saluted his servant, says to him, “Thou hast fulfilled like an hireling thy day: take thou thy wage, and depart in peace.” The like shall happen to all true servants of Christ; they shall rest from their labours where no weariness shall vex them, “neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.” They shall enter into the joy of their Lord, and enjoy the rest which remaineth for them. There is much of comfortable thought if we meditate upon this.

But, note the words again. You perceive that the departure of the child of God is appointed of the Lord. “Now lettest thou thy servant depart.” The servant must not-depart from his labour without his Master’s permission, else would he be a runaway, dishonest to his position. The good servant dares not stir till his Master says, “Depart in peace.” Simeon was content to wait till he received permission to depart, and it becomes us all to acquiesce cheerfully in the Lord’s appointment, whether he lengthens or shortens our life. It is certain that without the Lord’s will no power can remove us. No wind from the wilderness shall drive our souls into the land of darkness, no fiends with horrid clamour can drag us down to the abyss beneath, no destruction that wasting at noonday, or pestilence walking in darkness can cut short our mortal career. We shall not die till God shall say to us, “My child, depart from the field of service, and the straitness of this thy tabernacle, and enter into rest.” Till God commands us we cannot die, and when he bids us go it shall be sweet for us to leave this world.

Note, further, that the words before us clearly show that the believer’s departure is attended with a renewal of the divine benediction. “Depart in peace,” saith God. It is a farewell, such as we give to a friend: it is a benediction, such as Aaron, the priest of God, might pronounce over a suppliant whose sacrifice was accepted. Eli said unto Hannah, “Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him.” Around the sinner’s death-bed the tempest thickens, and he hears the rumblings of the eternal storm: his soul is driven away, either amid the thunderings of curses loud and deep, or else in the dread calm which evermore forebodes the hurricane. “Depart, ye cursed,” is the horrible sound which is in his ears. But, not so the righteous. He feels the Father’s hand of benediction on his head, and underneath him are the everlasting arms. The best wine with him is kept to the last. At eventide it is light; and, as his sun is going down, it grows more glorious, and lights up all the surroundings with a celestial glow, whereat bystanders wonder, and exclaim “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” That pilgrim sets out upon a happy journey to whom Jehovah saith, “Depart in peace.” This is a soft finger laid upon the closing eyelid by a tender father, and it ensures a happy waking, where eyes are never wet with tears.

I cannot detain you longer over these words: suffice it to add, that whatever belonged to Simeon in this benediction must not be regarded as peculiar to him alone, but as, in their measure, the possession of all believers. “This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.”

But now, secondly, we remind you, that some believers are conscious of a special readiness to depart in peace.

When do they feel this? Answer: first, when their graces are vigorous. All the graces are in all Christians, but they are not all there in the same proportion, nor are they at all times in the same degree of strength. In certain believers faith is strong and active. Now, when faith becomes “the evidence of things not seen,” and “the substance of things hoped for,” then the soul is sure to say, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” Faith brings the clusters of Eschol into the desert, and makes the tribes long for the land that floweth with milk and honey. “When the old Gauls had drunk of the wines of Italy, they said, “Let us cross the Alps, and take possession of the vineyards, which yield such generous draughts.” So, when faith makes us realize the joys of heaven, then it is that our soul stands waiting on the wing, watching for the signal from the glory-land.

The same is true of the grace of hope, for hope peers into the things invisible. She brings near to us the golden gates of the Eternal City. Like Moses, our hope climbs to the top of Pisgah, and beholds the Canaan of the true Israel. Moses had a delightful vision of the promised land when he gazed from Nebo’s brow, and saw it all from Dan to Beersheba: so also hope drinks in the charming prospect of the goodly land and Lebanon, and then she exclaims exultingly, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” Heaven realised and anticipated by hope renders the thought of departure most precious to the heart.

And the like, also, is the effect of the grace of love upon us. Love puts the heart, like a sacrifice, on the altar, and then she fetches heavenly fire, and kindles it; and, as soon as ever the heart begins to burn and glow like a sacrifice, what is the consequence? Why, it ascends like pillars of smoke up to the throne of God. It is the very instinct of love to draw us nearer to the person whom we love; and, when love towards God pervades the soul, then the spirit cries, “Make haste, my beloved, be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of separation.” Perfect love, casting out all fear, cries, “Up, and away.”

“Let me be with thee, where thou art,

My Saviour, my eternal rest!

Then only will this longing heart

Be fully and for ever blest.”

I might thus mention all the graces, but suffer one of them to suffice, one which is often overlooked, but is priceless as the gold of Ophir-it is the grace of humility. Is it strange that the lower a man sinks in his own esteem the higher does he rise before his God? Is it not written, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven? “Simeon had no conceit of his own importance in the world, else he would have said, “Lord, let me stay, and be an apostle. Surely I shall be needed at this juncture to lend my aid in the auspicious era which has just commenced? “But no, he felt himself so little, so inconsiderable, that now that he had attained his heart’s wish and seen God’s salvation, he was willing to depart in peace. Humility by making us lie low helps us to think highly of God, and, consequently, to desire much to be with God. O to have our graces always flourishing, for then shall we always be ready to depart, and willing to be offered up. Lack of grace entangles us, but to abound in grace is to live in the suburbs of the New Jerusalem.

Another time, when believers are thus ready to go, is when their assurance is clear. It is not always so with even the most mature Christians, and some true saints have not yet attained to assurance; they are truly saved, and possess a genuine faith, but as assurance is the cream of faith, the milk has not stood long enough to produce the cream; they have not yet come to the flower of assurance, for their faith is but a tender plant. Give a man assurance of heaven and he will be eager to enjoy it. While he doubts his own security, he wants to linger here. He is like the Psalmist when he asked that God would permit him to recover his strength before he went hence, and was no more. Some things were not yet in order with David, and he would stay awhile till they were. But, when the ship is all loaded, the crew on board, and the anchor heaved, the favouring breeze is desired that the barque may speed on its voyage. When a man is prepared for his journey, ready to depart, he does not care to linger long in these misty valleys, but pants for the sunny summits of the mount of God, whereon standeth the palace of the Great King. Let a man know that he is resting upon the precious blood of Christ, let him by diligent self-examination perceive in himself the marks of regeneration, and by the witness of his own spirit and by the infallible witness of the Holy Ghost bearing witness with his own spirit, let him be certified that he is born of God, and the natural consequence will be that he will say, “Now let me loose from all things here below and let me enter into the rest which is assuredly my own.” O you that have lost your assurance by negligent living, by falling into sin, or by some other form of backsliding, I do not wonder that you hug the world, for you are afraid you have no other portion; but with those who read their titles clear to mansions in the skies it will be otherwise. They will not ask to linger in this place of banishment, but will sing in their hearts, as we did just now:

“Jerusalem my happy home,

Name ever dear to me;

When shall my labours have an end,

In joy and peace and thee?”

Beloved, furthermore, saints feel most their readiness to go when their communion with Christ is near and sweet; when Christ hides himself we are afraid to talk of dying, or of heaven; but, when he only shows himself through the lattices, and we can see those eyes which are “as the eyes of doves by the rivers of water, washed with milk and fitly set;” when our own soul melteth even at that hazy sight of him, as through a glass darkly. Oh then we fain would be at home, and our soul crieth out for the day when her eyes shall see the King in his beauty, in the land that is very far off. Have you never felt the heavenly homesickness? Have you never pined for the home-bringing? Surely, when your heart has been full of the Bridegroom’s beauty, and your soul has been ravished with his dear and ever precious love, you have said: “When shall the day break, and the shadows flee away? “Why are his chariots so long in coming?” You have swooned, as it were, with love-sickness for your precious Saviour, thirsting to see him as he is, and to be like him. The world is black when Christ is fair; it is a poor heap of ashes when he is altogether lovely to us. When a precious Christ is manifested to our spirits, we feel that we could see Jesus and die. Put out these eyes, there is nothing more for them to see when they have seen him. “Black sun,” said Rutherford, “black moon, black stars, but inconceivably bright and glorious Lord Jesus.” How often did that devout man write words of this sort: “Oh if I had to swim through seven hells to reach him, if he would but say to me, like Peter,’ Come unto me,’ I would go unto him not only on the sea, but on the boiling floods of hell, if I might but reach him, and come to him.” I will pause here and give you his own words: “I profess to you I have no rest, I have no ease, till I be over head and ears in love’s ocean. If Christ’s love (that fountain of delight) were laid as open to me as I would wish, Oh, how I would drink, and drink abundantly! I half call his absence cruel; and the mask and veil on Christ’s face a cruel covering, that hideth such a fair, fair face from a sick soul. I dare not upbraid him, but his absence is a mountain of iron upon my heavy heart. Oh, when shall we meet? Oh, how long is it to the dawning of the marriage day? O sweet Lord Jesus, take wide steps; O my Lord, come over the mountains at one stride! O my Beloved, be like a roe, or a young hart, on the mountains of separation. Oh, if he would fold the heavens together like an old cloak, and shovel time and days out of the way, and make ready in haste the Lamb’s wife for her Husband! Since he looked upon me my heart is not mine; he hath run away to heaven with it.” When these strong throes, these ardent pangs of insatiable desire come upon a soul that is fully saturated with Christ’s love, through having been made to lean its head upon his bosom, and to receive the kisses of his mouth, then is the time when the soul saith, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.”

So again, beloved, saints have drawn their anchor up and spread their sails, when they have been made to hold loose by all there is in this world; and that is generally when they hold fastest by the world to come. To many this world is very sweet, very fair, but God puts bitters into the cup of his children; when their nest is soft, he fills it with thorns to make them long to fly. Alas, that it should be so, but some of God’s servants seem as if they had made up their minds to find a rest beneath the moon. They are moon-struck who hope to do so. All the houses in this plague-stricken land are worm-eaten and let in the rain and wind: my soul longeth to find a rest among the ivory palaces of thy land, O Immanuel.

Brethren, it often happens that the loss of dear friends, or the treachery of those we trusted, or bodily sickness, or depression of spirit, may help to unloose the holdfasts which enchain us to this life; and then we are enabled to say with David in one of the most precious little Psalms in the whole Book, the 131st, “I have behaved and quieted myself as a child that is weaned of his mother, my soul is even as a weaned child.” I have often thought that if David had said, “my soul is even as a weaning child,” it would have been far more like most of God’s people. But to be weaned, quite weaned from the world, to turn away from her consolations altogether, this it is which makes us cry, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” Even as the psalmist when he said, “And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.”

Again, saints are willing to depart when their work is almost done. This will not be the case with many here present, perhaps, but it was so with Simeon. Good old man! He had been very constant in his devotions, but on this occasion he came into the temple, and there, it is said, he took the child in his arms, and blessed God. Once more he delivered his soul of its adoration-once more he blended his praise with the songs of angels. When he had done that, he openly confessed his faith: another important work of every believer-for he said, “Mine eyes have seen thy salvation.” He bore public testimony to the child Jesus, and declared that he should be “a light to lighten the Gentiles.” Having done that, he bestowed his fatherly benediction upon the child’s parents, Joseph and his mother; he blessed them, and said unto Mary, “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel.” Now, we read that David, after he had served his generation, fell on sleep; it is time for man to sleep when his life’s work is finished. Simeon felt he had done all: he had blessed God; he had declared his faith; he had borne testimony to Christ; he had bestowed his benediction upon godly people; and so he said, “Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” Ah, Christian people, you will never be willing to go if you are idle. You lazy lie-a-beds, who do little or nothing for Christ, you sluggish servants, whose garden is overgrown with weeds, no wonder that you do not want to see your master! Your sluggishness accuses you, and makes you cowards. Only he who has put out his talents to good interest will be willing to render an account of his stewardship. But when a man feels, without claiming any merit, that he has fought a good fight, finished his course, and kept the faith, then will he rejoice in the crown which is laid up for him in heaven, and he will long to wear it. Throw your strength into the Lord’s work, dear brethren-all your strength; spare none of your powers: let body, soul, and spirit be entirely consecrated to God, and used at their utmost stretch. Get through your day’s work, for the sooner you complete it, and have fulfilled like an hireling your day, the more near and sweet shall be the time when the shadows lengthen, and God shall say to you, as a faithful servant, “Depart in peace!”

One other matter, I think, helps to make saints willing to go, and that is when they see or foresee the prosperity of the church of God. Good old Simeon saw that Christ was to be a light to lighten the Gentiles, and to be the glory of his people Israel; and, therefore, he said, “Lord, lettest now thy servant depart in peace.” I have known many a godly deacon who has seen a church wither and decay, its ministry become unprofitable, and its membership become divided; the dear old man has poured out his soul in agony before God, and when at last the Lord has sent a man to seek the good of Israel, and the church has been built up, he has been overjoyed, and he has said, “now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” It must have reconciled John Knox to die when he had seen the reformation safely planted throughout all Scotland. It made dear old Latimer, as he stood on the fagot, feel happy when he could say, “Courage, brother, we shall this day light such a candle in England as shall never be blown out.” “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem,” Ay, that we do, and we vehemently desire her prosperity, and if we can see Christ glorified, error defeated, truth established, sinners saved, and saints sanctified, our spirit feels she has all she wishes. Like dying David, when we have said, “Let the whole earth be filled with his glory,” we can fall back upon the pillows and die, for our prayers like those of David the son of Jesse are ended. Let us pray for this peace and this prosperity, and when we see it come, it shall bring calm and rest to our spirits, so that we shall be willing to depart in peace.

I shall call your attention now, for a little while, to the third point, that there are words to encourage us to the like readiness to depart. “According to thy word.” Now let us go to the Bible, and take from it seven choice words all calculated to cheer our hearts in the prospect of departure, and the first is Psalm 23:4: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” “We walk”-the Christian does not quicken his pace when he dies; he walked before, and he is not afraid of death, so he calmly walks on. It is a walk through a “shadow.” There is no substance in death, it is only a shade. Who needs fear a shadow? It is not a lonely walk-” Thou art with me.” Neither is it a walk that need cause us terror; “I will fear no evil:” not only is there no evil, but no fear shall cloud my dying hours. It shall be a departure full of comfort: “Thy rod and thy staff”-a duplicate means shall give us a fulness of consolation. “Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Take another text, and so follow the direction, “According to thy word.” Psalm 37:37: “Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.” If we are perfect, that is sincere; if we are upright, that is honest in heart; our end shall assuredly be peace.

Take another word, Psalm 116:15: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” It is no ordinary thing for a saint to die; it is a spectacle which the eyes of God are delighted with. As king’s delight in their pearls and diamonds, and count them precious, so the death-beds of the saints are God’s precious things.

Take another, Isaiah 57:2: “He shall enter into peace: they shall rest in their beds, each one walking in his uprightness.” Here is an entrance into peace for the saint, rest on his dying bed, rest for his body in the grave, rest for his spirit in the bosom of his Lord, and a walking in his uprightness in the immortality above. “According to thy word.” Oh, what, force there is in these few syllables! When you can plead the word of God you must prevail. Nothing has such marrow and fatness in it as a test of Scripture. It has a force of comfort all its own. Consider also 1 Cor. 3:22: “For all things are your’s: whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are your’s.” Now, if death is yours, there can be no sort of reason why you should be afraid of that which is made over to you as a part of your inheritance.

Take the fifteenth chapter and fifty-fourth verse of the same epistle: “So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” With such a text we need not fear to depart.

And so that other word, the seventh we shall quote, and in that number seven dwelleth perfection of testimony. Rev. 14:13: “And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.”

Now, I dare say, many of you have said, “I wish I had a word from God, just like Simeon had, to cheer me in my dying moments.” You have it before you; here are seven that I have read to you, most sure words of testimony, unto which you do well to take heed, as unto a light shining in a dark place. These promises belong to all believers in our precious Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Fear not, then, be not afraid, but rather say, “Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.”

I have done the sermon, but we must put a rider to it. Just a word or two to those of you who cannot die in peace because you are not believers in Christ: you have never seen God’s salvation, neither are you God’s servants. I must deal with you as I have dealt with the saints. I have given them texts of Scripture, for the text saith, “according to thy word;” and I will give you also two passages of Scripture, which will show you those who may not hope to depart in peace.

The first one is negative: it shows who cannot enter heaven, and, consequently, who cannot depart in peace. 1 Corinthians 6:9: “Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?” the unjust, the oppressive, cheats, rogues, “the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God.” I will read these words, I need not explain them, but let every one here who comes under their lash submit to God’s word. “Be not deceived: neither fornicators,”-plenty of them in London-“nor idolaters,”-and ye need not worship a God of wood and stone to be idolaters, worship anything but God, you are an idolater-” nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards,”-alas, some of these come to this house regularly,-“nor revilers,” that is, backbiters, cavillers, tale-bearers, swearers, and such like, “nor extortioners,”-you fine twenty per cent gentlemen! You who grind poor borrowers with usurious interest. None of you shall inherit the kingdom of God, not one of you. If you come within this list, except God renew your hearts and change you, the holy gates of heaven are shut in your face.

Now, take another text, of a positive character, from the Book of Revelation 21:7: “He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful,”-that means the cowardly, those that are ashamed of Christ, those that dare not suffer for Christ’s sake, those who believe everything and nothing, and so deny the truth, because they cannot endure to be persecuted; “the fearful and unbelieving,”-that is, those who do not trust a Saviour-“and the abominable,”-and they are not scarce, some among the poor are abominable, and there are Right Honourables who ought to be called Right Abominables; ay, and greater than that, too, whose vices make them abominable to the nation: and “murderers,”-“he that hateth his brother is a murderer;” and “whoremongers and sorcerers;” those who have or pretend to have dealings with devils and spirits, your spirit-rappers, the whole batch of them; “and idolaters, and all liars,” and these swarm everywhere, they lie in print, and they lie with the voice; “all liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.”

Now, these are no words of mine, but the words of God; and if they condemn you, you are condemned; but, if you be condemned, fly to Jesus. Repent and be converted, as saith the gospel, and forgiveness shall be yours, through Jesus Christ. Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon-Luke 1:46-55; 1:67-75; 2:25-35.