C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“I commend unto you Phebe our sister, which is a servant of the church which is at Cenchrea: that ye receive her in the Lord, as becometh saints, and that ye assist her in whatsoever business she hath need of you: for she hath been a succourer of many, and of myself also. Greet Priscilla and Aquila my helpers in Christ Jesus: who have for my life laid down their own necks: unto whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches of the Gentiles. Likewise greet the church that is in their house. Salute my wellbeloved Epenetus, who is the firstfruits of Achaia unto Christ. Greet Mary, who bestowed much labour on us. Salute Andronicus and Junia, my kinsmen, and my fellowprisoners, who are of note among the apostles, who also were in Christ before me. Greet Amplias my beloved in the Lord. Salute Urbane, our helper in Christ, and Stachys my beloved. Salute Apelles approved in Christ. Salute them which are of Aristobulus’ household. Salute Herodion my kinsman. Greet them that be of the household of Narcissus, which are in the Lord. Salute Tryphena and Tryphosa, who labour in the Lord. Salute the beloved Persis, which laboured much in the Lord. Salute Rufus chosen in the Lord, and his mother and mine. Salute Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hennas, Patrobas, Hermes, and the brethren which are with them. Salute Philologus, and Julia, Nereus, and his sister, and Olympas, and all the saints which are with them. Salute one another with an holy kiss. The churches of Christ salute you.”-Romans 16:1-16.

This chapter contains Paul’s loving salutation to the various Christians dwelling at Rome. Remember that it is an inspired passage: although it consists of Christian courtesies addressed to different individuals, yet it was written by an apostle, and written not as an ordinary letter but as a part of the inspired volume. Therefore there must be valuable matter in it; and though, when we read it, it may appear to be uninstructive, there must be edifying matter beneath the surface, because all Scripture is given by inspiration, and is meant to benefit us in one way or another. It shows to us one thing, at any rate, that Paul was of a most affectionate disposition, and that God did not select as the apostle of the Gentiles a man of a coarse, unfeeling, selfish turn of mind. His memory, as well as his heart, must have been in good condition to remember so large a number of names, and these were but a few of his many beloved brethren and spiritual children all over the world whom he mentions by name in his other epistles. His warm heart, I doubt not, quickened his memory, and secured to his remembrance the form, condition, history, character, and name of each one of his friends. He loved them too well to forget them. Christians should love one another, and should bear one another’s names upon their hearts, even as the great High Priest wears the names of all his saints upon his jewelled breastplate. A Christian because of the love he bears to others is ever anxious to please by courtesy, and desires never to pain by rudeness. Grace makes the servant of God to be in the highest sense a true gentleman. If we learn nothing more from this passage than the duty of acting lovingly and courteously the one to the other, we shall be all the better for it, for there is none too much tender consideration and gentle speech among professors at this time.

Beyond this, our text is singularly full of instructive matter, as I shall hope to show you. Without preface, let us notice first, that this passage illustrates remarkably the various relations of families to the church.

Note in the third verse that the apostle says, “Greet Priscilla and Aquila my helpers in Christ Jesus.” Here you have a household, in which both the father and the mother, or say the husband and the wife, were joined to the church of God. What a happy circumstance was this! Their influence upon the rest of the household must have been very powerful, for when two loving hearts pull together they accomplish wonders. What different associations cluster around the names of “Priscilla and Aquila” from those which are awakened by the words “Ananias and Sapphira”! There we have a husband and a wife conspiring in hypocrisy, and here a wife and a husband united in sincere devotion. Thrice happy are those who are not only joined in marriage, but are one in the Lord Jesus Christ; such marriages are made in heaven. This couple appear to have been advanced Christians, for they became instructors of others; and not merely teachers of the ignorant, but teachers of those who already knew much of the gospel, for they instructed young Apollos, an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures. They taught him the way of God more perfectly, and therefore we may be sure were deep-taught Christians themselves. We must usually look for our spiritual fathers and nursing mothers to those households where husband and wife are walking in the fear of God; they are mutually helpful, and therefore grow in grace beyond others.

I do not know why Paul in this case wrote “Priscilla and Aquila,” thus placing the wife first, for in the Acts we read of them as Aquila and Priscilla. I should not wonder but he put them in order according to quality rather than according to the rule of sex. He named Priscilla first because she was first in energy of character and attainments in grace. There is a precedence which, in Christ, is due to the woman when she becomes the leader in devotion, and manifests the stronger mind in the things of God. It is well when nature and grace both authorise our saying “Aquila and Priscilla,” but it is not amiss when grace outruns nature and we hear of “Priscilla and Aquila.” Whether the wife be first or second matters little if both be truly the servants of God. Dear husband, is your wife unconverted? Never fail to pray for her. Good sister, have you not yet seen the partner of your joys brought in to be a partaker in grace? Never bow your knee for yourself without mentioning that beloved name before the throne of mercy. Pray unceasingly that your life-companions may be converted to God. Priscilla and Aquila were tent makers, and were thus of the same trade with the apostle, who for this reason lodged with them at Corinth; they had lived in Rome at one time, but had been obliged to leave owing to a decree of Claudius which banished the Jews from the imperial city. When that decree was no longer carried out they seem to have gone back to Rome, which from the vast awnings used in the great public buildings must have afforded a fine sphere for the tent-makers’ craft. It is very likely that their occupation of tentmaking necessitated their having a large room in which to carry on their work, and therefore they allowed the Christians to meet in it. Paul spoke of the church that was in their house. It is a great privilege when a Christian family can accommodate the church of God, it is well when they judge that the parlour will be honoured by being used for a prayer meeting, and consider that the best room in the house is none too good for the servants of God to meet in. Such a dwelling becomes like the house of Obededom, where the ark of God tarried and left a permanent blessing behind.

To pass on; in the seventh verse you have another family. “Salute Andronicus and Junia, my kinsmen, and my fellowprisoners, who are of note among the apostles, who also were in Christ before me.” Now, if I understand this passage aright, we have here a case of two men, perhaps they are both male names, Andronicus and Junius, or else a husband and wife or a brother and sister-Andronicus and Junia; but at any rate they represent part of a household, and part of a very remarkable household too, for they were kinsmen of Paul, and they were converted to God before Paul was, which interesting fact slips out quite incidentally. I have wondered in my own mind whether the conversion of his relatives helped to irritate Paul into his murderous fury against the church of Christ, whether when he saw Andronicus and Junia his relatives, converted to what he thought to be the superstition of Nazareth-whether that excited in him the desperate animosity which he displayed towards the Lord Jesus Christ. I may leave that as a matter of question, but I feel certain that the prayers of his two relations followed the young persecutor, and that if you were to look deep into the reason for the conversion of Saul of Tarsus on his way to Damascus you would find it at the mercy seat in the prayers of Andronicus and Junia, his kinsmen, who were in Christ before him. This should act as a great encouragement for all of you who desire the salvation of your households. Perhaps you have a relative who is very much opposed to the gospel of Jesus Christ; for that very reason pray the more importunately for him! There is none the less hope for him because of his zealous opposition, the man is evidently in a thoughtful condition, and the grace of God is able to turn his ignorant zeal to good account when his heart has been enlightened and renewed. There is something to be made out of a man who has enough stuff in him to be opposed to the gospel; a good sword will make a good ploughshare. Out of persecutors God can make apostles. Nowadays the world swarms with milk-sops of men, who neither believe in the gospel, nor thoroughly disbelieve it; they are neither for nor against, neither true to God nor the devil; such men of straw will never be worth their salt even if they should become converted. An out-and-out honest hater of the gospel is the man who with one touch of divine grace may be made into an equally sincere lover of the truth which once he despised. Pray on, pray hard, pray believingly for your relatives, and you may-live to see them occupy the pulpit and preach the faith which now they strive to overturn. It is a happy and hopeful token for good to a family when a part of the household is joined to the church of God.

Passing on again, we meet with a third family in relation to the church, but in this case the master of the house was not a Christian-I suppose not, from the tenth verse, “Salute them which are of Aristobulus’ household.” Not “Salute Aristobulus,” no, but they that are of his household. Why leave Aristobulus out? It is just possible that he was dead, but far more likely that he was unsaved. He was left out of the apostle’s salutation because he had left himself out; he was no believer, and therefore there could be no Christian salutation sent to him. Alas for him, the kingdom of God was near to him, yea, in his house, and yet he was unblessed by it! Am I not speaking to a man in this condition? Where are you, Aristobulus? That is not your name, perhaps, but your character is the same as that of this unregenerate Roman, whose family knew the Lord. I might speak in God’s name good words and comfortable words to your wife and to your children, but I could not so speak to you, Aristobulus! The Lord sends a message of grace to your dear child, to your beloved wife, but not to you; for you have not given your heart to him. I will pray for you, and I am happy to know that those of your household who love the Lord are interceding for you both day and night. It is a hopeful connection that you have with the church; though perhaps you do not care much about it, yet be sure of this, the kingdom of God has come nigh unto you. This fact will involve dreadful responsibility, if it does not lead to your salvation, for if like Capernaum you are exalted to heaven by your privileges it will be all the more dreadful to be thrust down to hell. It is a sad thing in a family when one is taken and another left. Oh, bethink you how wretched will be your condition if you continue in unbelief, for when your child is in heaven and your wife is in heaven, and you see your mother who is there already, and you yourself are cast far off into hell, you will remember that you were called but refused, were bidden but would not come, you shut your eyes to the light and would not see; you rejected Christ and perished wilfully, a suicide to your own soul.

Another instance of this, and I think a worse one, is to be seen further on in our text where the apostle speaks of the “household of Narcissus,” in the eleventh verse: “Greet them that be of the household of Narcissus, which are in the Lord.” Now I fancy that Narcissus was the master of the house, and that the converts in the house were his servants or his slaves. There was a Narcissus in the days of Nero, who was put to death by Nero’s successor. He was Nero’s favourite, and when I have said that, you may conclude that he was a man of no very commendable character. It is said of him that he was extremely rich, and that he was as bad as he was rich. Yet while the halls of the house of Narcissus echoed to blasphemous songs, and while luxurious gluttony, mingled with unbridled licentiousness, made his mansion a very hell, there was a saving salt in the servants’ hall and the slaves’ dormitory. Perhaps under the stairs, in the little place where the slave crept in to sleep, prayer was made unto the living God, and when the master little dreamed of it, the servants about his house sang hymns in praise of one Jesus Christ, the anointed Saviour, whom they adored as the Son of God. Wonderful are the ways of electing love, which passes by the rich and great to have respect unto the man of low degree. It may be there is some bad master within reach of my voice, he is himself utterly irreligious, but yet in his house there are those who wait upon the Lord in prayer. He who blacks your shoes may be one of the beloved of the Lord, while you who wear them may be without God and without hope in the world. The little maid in your house fears the Lord, though you are forgetful of his praises; an angel received unawares, waits upon you at table. There was a good man some years ago who used to sit up for a certain king of ours of wretched memory-let his name rot! This king was called a gentleman, but other titles might better describe him. While his master would be rioting, this man was communing with God, and reading Boston’s “Crook in the Lot,” or some such blessed book, to while away the weary hours. There are still at this day in the halls of the great, and wicked, and in the abodes of transgressors of all classes, God’s hidden ones, who are the salt of the earth, and cry unto God day and night against the iniquity of their masters. There shall be an inquisition concerning all this; the godly shall not always be forgotten, the golden nuggets shall not always lie hidden in the dust. Bethink you, O masters, how will it fare with you when your humblest menials shall be crowned with glory and you yourselves shall be driven into the blackness of darkness for ever? Seek ye also the Lord, ye great ones, and he will be found of you.

We cannot afford to stay with Narcissus, let us turn to the twelfth verse, and you have another instance of a family in connection with Christ’s people: “Salute Tryphena and Tryphosa, who labour in the Lord”-I suppose two sisters, the names sound very like it. Where were their brothers? Where was their father? Where was their mother? “Tryphena and Tryphosa,” how often have I seen them in the church, two humble, earnest, faithful women, the lone ones of the family, and all the rest far off from God! O brother, let not your sister go to heaven alone. Father, if your daughters be children of God, do not yourself remain his enemy. Let the examples of your godly children help you, O parents, to be yourselves decided for the Redeemer! Hail to you, ye gracious women who keep each other company on the road to heaven! The Lord make you a comfort to one another. May ye shine both here and hereafter like twin stars, shedding a gentle radiance of holiness on all around. There is work for you in your heavenly Father’s house, and though you may not be called to public preaching, yet, in spheres appropriate, you may with much acceptance “labour in the Lord.”

Further down, in the fifteenth verse, we have a brother and his sister, “Nereus, and his sister.” It is pleasant to see the stronger and weaker sex thus associated. “They grew in beauty side by side” in the field of nature, and now they bloom together in the garden of grace. It is a sweet relationship, that of a godly brother and sister, they are as the rose and the lily in the same posy; but had they no other relatives? Were there no others remaining of their kindred? Had they no trouble in spirit concerning others dear to them? Depend upon it, they often prayed together, and sighed because their relatives were not in Christ, for concerning all the rest of the family the record is blank. God hear your prayers, my dear friends, when you, like Nereus and his sister, unite in brotherly prayer and sisterly intercession.

One other very beautiful instance of a family connection with the church is in the thirteenth verse: “Salute Rufus chosen in the Lord, and his mother and mine.” Now, this is a case of a mother and her son. I would not wish to say anything that is far-fetched, but I think there is no vain conjecture in supposing that this good woman was the wife of Simon the Cyrenian, who carried the cross of Christ. You will remember he is said by Mark to be the father of Alexander and Rufus, two persons who evidently were well known in the church of God at that time. And here we have familiar mention of Rufus and his mother. Whether she was the wife of Simeon or not she seems to have been a kind, good, lovable soul, one of those dear matrons who are at once an ornament and a comfort to the Christian church; and such an excellent woman was she that Paul when he calls her the mother of Rufus adds, “and mine”-she had been like a mother to him. I do not wonder that such choice mothers have choice sons-“chosen in the Lord.” If those whom we deeply love carry their religion about with them set in a frame of affectionate cheerfulness, it is hard to resist the charms of their lovely piety. When a godly woman is a tender mother, it is no wonder if her sons, Rufus and Alexander, become believers in Jesus Christ too, for their mother’s love and example draw them towards Jesus. There is a legend connected with Rufus and Alexander; I have never read it, but I have seen it set forth in glowing colours by an artist in a cathedral in Belgium. I saw a series of paintings which represented Christ bearing his cross through the streets of Jerusalem, and among the crowd the artist has placed a countryman looking on, and carrying with him his mattock and spade, as if he had just come into the town from labouring in the fields. In the next picture this countryman is evidently moved to tears by seeing the cruelties practised upon the Redeemer, and he shows his sympathy so plainly that the cruel persecutors of our Lord who are watching the spectators observe it, and gather angrily around him. The countryman’s two boys are there too, Alexander and Rufus; Rufus is the boy with the red head; he is ardent and sanguine, bold and outspoken, and you can see that one of the rough men has just been cuffing him about the head for showing sympathy with the poor cross-bearing Saviour. The next picture represents the father taken and compelled to bear the cross, while Alexander holds his father’s pick, and Rufus is carrying his father’s spade, and they are going along close by the Lord Jesus, pitying him greatly. If they cannot bear the cross, they will at least help their father by carrying his tools. Of course it is but a legend, but who marvels if Alexander and Rufus saw their father carry Christ’s cross so well, that they, too, should afterwards count it their glory to be followers of the Crucified One, so that Paul should say when he wrote down the name of Rufus, that he was a choice man, for so we may translate of the passage, “Chosen in the Lord,” or, “The choice one of the Lord”! He was a distinguished Christian, with great depth of Christian experience, and in all respects a fit descendant of a remarkable father and mother.

Thus have we observed the different ways in which families come in contact with Christ, and I pray God that every family here may make up a part of the whole family in heaven and earth, which is named by the name of Jesus. May all your sons and your daughters, your brethren and your sisters, your servants and kinsfolk, but chiefly yourselves, take up the cross of Jesus, and be saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation.

The interesting passage before us shows what are points of interest among christians.

Now, among worldly people points of interest are very many and characteristic. In any worldly community one very important point of interest is, how much is a man worth? That is an important point with Christians, too, in the right sense, but the worldly man means by that, “How much money has the man scraped into his own till?” He may have gained his pelf in the worst way in the world, but nobody takes account of that, the one all-important question among Mammonites is, “What is his balance at the bankers?” Now Paul does not in his salutation make a single reference to any one on account of his wealth or poverty. He does not say, “To Philologus, our brother, who has ten thousand pounds a year, and Julia, our sister, who keeps a carriage and pair”-nothing of the sort, he makes no account of position or property, except so far as those may be implied in the service which each person rendered to the cause of God. Neither is there any allusion made to their holding important offices under government, or being what is called exceedingly respectable people or persons of good family. The points of interest with Paul, as a Christian, were very different from those.

The first matter of which he made honourable mention was their service for the church. Phebe, in the first verse, is “a servant of the church, which is at Cenchrea. She hath been a succourer of many, and of myself also.” It is a distinction and honour among Christians to be allowed to serve, and the most menial employment for the church of God is the most honourable. Every man who seeks honour after God’s fashion seeks it by being abased, by undertaking that ministry which will involve the most self-denial, and will secure the greatest reproach. Foremost in the ranks of the divine peerage are the martyrs, because they were the most despised; they suffered most, and they have the most of honour. So Phebe shall have her name inscribed in this golden book of Christ’s nobility, because she is the servant of the church, and because, in being such, she succoured the poor and needy. I doubt not she was a nurse among the poorer Christians, or as some call them, a deaconess, for, in the olden time, it was so, that the elder women who had need were maintained by the church, and in return occupied themselves with the nursing of sick believers; and it were well if such were the case again, and if the old office could be revived.

Another especial point for remark among Christians is their labour. Kindly refer to your Bibles, and read the sixth verse: “Greet Mary, who bestowed much labour on us.” This is the sixth Mary mentioned in the Bible. She appears to have been one who laid herself out to help the minister. “She bestowed much labour on us,” says the apostle, or “on me”-she was one of those useful women who took personal care of the preacher, because she believed the life of God’s servant to be precious, and that he should be cared for in his many labours and perils. What she did for Paul and his fellow labourers we are not told, but it was something which cost her effort, amounting to “much labour.” She loved much and therefore toiled much. She was “always abounding in the work of the Lord.” Sister Mary, imitate your namesake.

Then follow the two good women, Tryphena and Tryphosa, of whom it is said, “who labour in the Lord;” and Persis, of whom it is written, she “laboured much in the Lord.” I do not suppose Tryphena and Tryphosa were angry because the apostle made this distinction, but it is certainly a very plain and explicit one; the first two “laboured,” but Persis “laboured much.” So there are distinctions and degrees in honour among believers, and these are graduated by the scale of service done. It is an honour to labour for Christ, it is a still greater honour to labour much. If, then, any, in joining the Christian church, desire place or position, honour or respect, the way to it is this-labour, and labour much. Persis had probably been a slave, and was of a strange race from the far-off land of Persia, but she was so excellent in disposition that she is called “the beloved Persis,” and for her indefatigable industry she receives signal mention. Among believers the rewards of affectionate respect are distributed according to the self-denying service which is rendered to Christ and to his cause. May all of us be helped to labour much, by the power of the Holy Spirit.

At the same time, another point of interest is character, for as I have already said, Rufus in the thirteenth verse is said to be “chosen in the Lord;” which cannot allude to his election, since all the rest were chosen too, but must mean that he was a choice man in the Lord, a man of peculiarly sweet spirit, a devout man, a man who walked with God, a man well instructed in the things of God, and a man whose practice was equal to his knowledge. “Salute” him, saith the apostle. He who would be noted in the church of God must have real character: there must be holiness unto the Lord, there must be faith; a man must have it said of him “he is full of faith and of the Holy Ghost.” This shall get him commemoration, but nothing else will do it. Apelles is described as “approved in Christ,” a tried, proved, and experienced believer. Christians value those who have been tested and found faithful; tried saints are had in honour among us.

Character, you see, is the one noteworthy point in the society of the church, and nothing else. Yes, there is one thing else. I find one person here noted in the church as a person around whom great interest centred, because of the time of his conversion. It is in the fifth verse: “Salute my well-beloved Epenetus, who is the firstfruits of Achaia unto Christ.” You know what that means. When Paul began to preach in Achaia, Epenetus was one of his first converts, and while every minister feels a peculiar attachment to all his converts, he has the tenderest memory of the first ones. What parent does not prize above all others his first child? I can speak from experience. I remember well the first woman who professed to be brought to Christ when I began to preach the gospel. I have the house in my mind’s eye at this moment, and though I cannot say that it was a picturesque cottage yet it will always interest me. Great was the joy I felt when I heard that peasant’s story of repentance and of faith. She died, and went to heaven a short time after her conversion, being taken away by consumption, but the remembrance of her gave me more comfort than I have ordinarily received by the recollection of twenty or even a hundred converts since then. She was a precious seal set upon my ministry to begin with, and to encourage my infant faith. Some of you were the firstfruits of my ministry in London, in Park-street, and very precious people you were. How gladly would I see some of you in this Tabernacle become the firstfruits of this present year; there would be something very interesting about you, for it would encourage us all through the year. If you are brought to seek the Lord just now, I shall always view you with love, and think of you as I read this chapter so full of names. I shall be as thankful for those born to God to-night as for those regenerated at any other time, for my heart is earnestly going out after you.

So I have shown you that there are points of interest about individual persons in the church of God, and what they are.

But as time has fled, though I have much to say I must close with the third point, which is this. This long passage reveals the general love which exists (must I say which ought to exist?) in the church of god.

For, first, the whole passage shows the love of the apostle towards the saints and brethren at Rome. He would not have taken the trouble to write all this to them if he had not really loved them. And it shows that there were Christians in those days who were full of love to each other. Their salutation, the holy kiss, marked their fervour of love, for they were by no means a people given to use outward signs unless they had something to express thereby. O that Christian love reigned among all Christians now to a greater extent! “Ah!” says one, “there is very little of it.” I know you, my friend, very well indeed; you are the man who is for ever grumbling at others for want of love, when the truth is that you are destitute of it yourself. I always find that those who say there is no love among Christians now, judge by what they see at home in their own hearts, for those who love Christians believe that Christians also love one another; and you shall find the man of loving heart, though he will say, “I wish there were more love,” will never be the man to say that there is none. Brethren, it is a lie that there is no love among Christians: we love each other still, and we will show it by the grace of God even more, if the Spirit of God shall help us.

Note that according to this passage the early Christians were accustomed to show their love to one another by practical help; for in the second verse Paul says of Phebe, “Receive her in the Lord, as becometh saints, and assist her in whatever business she hath need of you, for she hath been a succourer of many, and of myself also.” I do not think that the apostle alluded to any church business, but to her own business, whatever that may have been; she may have had moneys to gather in, or some complaint to make at head-quarters of an exacting tax-gatherer. I do not know what it was; and it is quite as well that Paul did not tell us. It is no part of an apostle’s commission to tell us other people’s business; but whatever business it was, if any Christian in Rome could help her he was to do so. And so if we can help our Christian brethren in any way or shape, as much as lieth in us we are to endeavour to do it. Our love must not lie in words alone or it will be unsubstantial as the air. Mark you, you are not called upon to become sureties for your brethren, or to put your name on the back of bills for them; do that for nobody, for you have an express word in Scripture against it-“He that hateth suretyship is sure,” says Solomon, and “he that is a surety shall smart for it.” I could wish that some brethren had been wise enough to have recollected the teaching of Scripture upon that point, for it might have saved them a sea of troubles. But for your fellow Christians do anything that is lawful for you to do, do it for one another out of love to your common Lord, bearing one another’s burdens, and so fulfilling the law of Christ.

We are bound to show our love to each other, even when it involves great sacrifices; for in the fourth verse the apostle says of Priscilla and Aquila that for his life “they laid down their own necks.” They went into great peril to save the apostle. Such love exists in our churches still. This is denied, but I know it is so. I know Christians who could say honestly that if their minister’s life could be spared they would be willing to die in his stead. It has been said by some here, and I have heard it, and have felt that they who said it meant what they said. Nay, I know the prayer has gone up from some lips here that they might sooner die than I should. When your pastor has been in danger, many of you have lovingly declared that if your life could stand for his life it should be freely rendered before God. Christians love each other still, and they make sacrifices for one another still. I speak this to the honour of many of you, that your love to your pastor has not been in word only, but in deed and in truth; and for this may the Lord reward you.

Christian love in those days had an intense respect for those who had suffered for Christ. Read the seventh verse. Paul says that Andronicus and Junia were his fellow prisoners, and he speaks of them with special unction because of that. No one was thought more of among the early Christians than the prisoner for Christ, the martyr, or the almost martyr. Why, there was even too much made of such sufferers, so that while Christians were in prison, expecting to be martyred, they received attentions which showed almost too great a reverence for their persons. Now, brethren, whenever any man in these times is laughed at for following Christ fully, or ridiculed for bearing an honest testimony for the truth, do not be ashamed of him and turn your backs upon him. Such a man may not expect you to give him double honour, but he may claim that you shall stand shoulder to shoulder with him, and not be ashamed of the reproach which he is called to bear for Christ his Lord. So was it with the church in the olden time, the men who went first in suffering were also first in their love and esteem. They never failed to own that they were brothers to the man who was doomed to die; on the contrary, the Christians of the apostolic times used to do what our Protestant forefathers did in England. The young Christian people of the church, when there was a martyr to be put to death, would go and stand with tears in their eyes to see him die, and what think ye for? To learn the way! One of them said when his father asked him why he stole out to see his pastor burned, “Father, I did it that I might learn the way;” and he did learn it so well that when his turn came he burned as well, and triumphed in God as gloriously as his minister had done. Learn the way, young man, to bear reproach. Look at those who have been lampooned, and satirised, and say, “Well, I will learn how to take my turn when my turn comes, but as God helps me I will speak for the truth faithfully and boldly.”

Again, that love always honoured workers. For Paul says, “Mary, who bestowed much labour on us;” and he speaks of the labourers over and over again, with intense affection. We ought to love much those who do much for Christ, whether they are Christian men or women. Alas, I know some who, if anybody does a little more than another, straightway begin to pick holes in his coat. “Mr. So-and-so is very earnest, but-ah-yes! And Mrs. So-and-so, yes-God blesses her, but-but-yes.” For want of anything definite to say, they shrug their shoulders, and insinuate. This is the reverse of the spirit of Paul, for he recognised holy industry and praised it. Dear friend, do not become a fault-finder, it is as bad a trade as a pickpocket’s. Till you can do better, hold your tongue! Did you ever know a man or woman whom God blessed that was perfect? If God were to work by perfect instruments, the instruments would earn a part of the glory. Take it for granted that we are all imperfect; but when you have taken that for granted, love those who serve God well, and never allow anybody to speak against them in your hearing. Silence cavillers at once by saying, “God honours them; and whom God honours, I dare not despise!” We cannot be wrong in putting our honour where God is pleased to place his.

Still, Christian love in Paul’s days-though it loved all the saints-had its specialties. Read down the chapter, and you will find Paul saying, “my well-beloved Epenetus,” “Amplias my beloved in the Lord,” “Stachys my beloved,” and “Urbane our beloved in Christ.” All these were persons whom he especially esteemed. There were some whom he liked better than others, and you must not blame yourself if you judge some Christians to be better than others, and if you therefore love them better; for even the Lord himself had a disciple whom he loved more than the rest. I desire to love all the Lord’s people, but there are some of them whom I can love best while I know the least about them, and feel the most comfort in them when I have not seen them for a month or so. There are Christian people whom you could live with in heaven comfortably enough, but it is a severe trial to bear with them on earth, although you feel that they are good people, and since God puts up with them, so ought you. Since there are such peculiar people do not be always getting in their way to irritate them-leave them alone, and seek peace by keeping out of their way. Brethren, let us love one another; by all means let us love one another, for love is of God. But let us all try to be lovable, so as to make this duty as easy as possible to our brethren.

Once more, love among Christians in those early days was wont to respect seniority in spiritual life; for Paul speaks of some who were in Christ before himself. Among us I hope there always will be profound esteem for those who have been longest in Christ, for those who have stood the test of years, for our aged members, the elders and the matrons among us. Reverence to old age is but a natural duty, but reverence to advanced Christians is a privilege as well. Let it always be so among us.

And the last word is this; love to all Christians should make us recollect even the most obscure and mean members of the church. When the apostle Paul wrote, “Salute Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermas,” why, many of us say, “Whoever were these good people?” And when he goes on to mention, “Patrobas, Hermes,” we ask, “And who were they? What did these men attempt or perform? Is that all? Philologus, who was he? and who was Olympas? We know next to nothing about those good people.” They were like the most of us, commonplace individuals; but they loved the Lord, and therefore as Paul recollected their names he sent them a message of love which has become embalmed in the Holy Scriptures. Do not let us think of the distinguished Christians exclusively so as to forget the rank and file of the Lord’s army. Do not let the eye rest exclusively upon the front rank, but let us love all whom Christ loves; let us value all Christ’s servants. It is better to be God’s dog than to be the devil’s darling. It were better to be the meanest Christian than to be the greatest sinner. If Christ is in them, and they are in Christ, and you are a Christian, let your heart go out towards them.

And now, finally, may grace, mercy, and peace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ; and may we labour to promote unity and love among his people. The God of peace shall bruise Satan under our feet shortly, may we therefore in patience possess our souls. O that those who are not yet numbered among the people of the Lord may be brought in through faith in Jesus Christ to his glory! Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Rom. 16

ONWARD!

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-Day Morning, May 25th, 1873, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”-Philippians 3:13, 14.

So far as his acceptance with God is concerned a Christian is complete in Christ as soon as he believes. Those who have trusted themselves in the hands of the Lord Jesus are saved: and they may enjoy holy confidence upon the matter, for they have a divine warrant for so doing. “There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” To this salvation the apostle had attained. But while the work of Christ for us is perfect, and it were presumption to think of adding to it, the work of the Holy Spirit in us is not perfect, it is continually carried on from day to day, and will need to be continued throughout the whole of our lives. We are being “conformed to the image of Christ,” and that process is in operation, as we advance towards glory. The condition in which a believer should always be found is that of progress: his motto must be, “Onward and upward!” Nearly every figure by which Christians are described in the Bible implies this. We are plants of the Lord’s field, but we are sown that we may grow-“First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear.” We are born into the family of God; but there are babes, little children, young men, and fathers in Christ Jesus; yea, and there are a few who are perfect or fully developed men in Christ Jesus. It is a growth evermore. Is the Christian described as a pilgrim? He is no pilgrim who sits down as if rooted to the place. “They go from strength to strength.” The A Christian is compared to a warrior, a wrestler, a competitor in the games: these figures are the very opposite of a condition in which nothing more is to be done. They imply energy, the gathering up of strength, and the concentration of forces, in order to the overthrowing of adversaries. The Christian is also likened to a runner in a race, and that is the figure now before us in the text. It is clear that a man cannot be a runner who merely holds his ground, contented with his position: he only runs aright who each moment nears the mark. Progress is the healthy condition of every Christian man; and he only realises his best estate while he is growing in grace, “adding to his faith virtue,” “following on to know the Lord,” and daily receiving grace for grace out of the fulness which is treasured up in Christ Jesus.

Now, to this progress the apostle exhorts us-nay, he does more than exhort, he allures us. He stands among us; he does not lecture us ex cathedra, standing like a learned master far above his disciples, but he puts himself on our level, and though not a whit behind the very chief of the apostles, he says, “Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended.” He does not give us the details of his own imperfections and deficiencies, but in one word he confesses them in the gross, and then declares that he burned with eager desire for perfection, so that it was the one passion of his soul to press onward towards the great goal of his hopes, the prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus. We cannot desire to have a better instructor than a man who sympathises with us because he humbly considers himself to be of the same rank as ourselves. Teaching us to run, the apostle himself runs; wishing to fire our holy ambition, he bears testimony to that same ambition flaming within his own spirit. I desire so to speak from this text that every believer may pant for progress in the divine life.

Paul’s statements in the text call us to look at him under four aspects: first, as forming a just estimate of his present condition-“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended;” secondly, as placing his past in its proper position-“forgetting the things which are behind;” thirdly, as aspiring eagerly to a more glorious future-“reaching forth unto those things which are before;” and fourthly, as practically putting forth every exertion to obtain that which he desired-“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

First, admire our apostle as putting a just estimate upon his present condition.

He was not one of those who consider the state of the believer’s heart to be a trifling matter. He was not indifferent as to his spiritual condition. He says, “I count,”-as if he had taken stock, had made a careful estimate, and had come to a conclusion. He is not a wise man who says, “I am a believer in Christ, and therefore it little matters what are my inward feelings and experience.” He who so speaks should remember that keeping the heart with all diligence is a precept of inspiration, and that a careless walk usually comes to a very sorrowful ending. The apostle did take account; but when he had done so he was dissatisfied: “I count not myself to have apprehended.” Nor was that dissatisfaction to be regretted: it was a sign of true grace, a conclusion which is always arrived at when saints judge themselves rightly. Most weighty is that word of Chrysostom, “He who thinks he has obtained everything, hath nothing.” Had Paul been satisfied with his attainments he would never have sought for more. Most men cry “hold,” when they think they have done enough. The man who could honestly write, “I press forward,” you may be quite sure was one who felt that he had not yet apprehended all that might be gained. Self-satisfaction rings the death-knell of progress. There must be a deep-seated discontent with present attainments, or there will never be a striving after the things which are yet beyond.

Now, beloved, remark, that the man who in our text tells us that he had not apprehended was a man vastly superior to any of us. Among them that were born of women there has never lived a greater than Paul the apostle; in sufferings for Christ a martyr of the first class; in ministry for Christ an apostle of foremost degree. Where shall I find such a man for revelations? for he had been caught up into the third heaven, and heard words which it was not lawful for him to utter. Where shall I find his match for character? a character splendidly balanced, as nearly approximating to that of his divine Master as we may well expect to see in mortal men. Yet, after having duly considered the matter, this notable saint said, “I count not myself to have apprehended.” Shame, then, on any of us poor dwarfs if we are so vain as to count that we have apprehended! Shame upon the indecent self-conceit of any man who congratulates himself upon his own spiritual condition, when Paul himself said, “Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect.” The injury which self-content will do a man it would be hard to measure, it is the readiest way to stunt him, and the surest method to keep him weak. I should be sorry indeed if I should be addressing one who imagines that he has apprehended, for his progress in grace is barred from this time forth. The moment a man says, “I have it,” he will no longer try to obtain it; the moment he cries, “It is enough,” he will not labour after more.

Yet, brethren, far too often of late have I come across the path of those who speak as if they have apprehended,-brethren whose own lips praise them, who descant upon their own fulness of grace, with an unction rather too unctuous for my taste. I am not about to condemn them; I cannot say I am not about to censure them, for I intend to do so, from a deep sense of the necessity that they should be censured. These friends assure us that they have reached great heights of grace, and are now in splendid spiritual condition. I should be very glad to know that it is so, if it were true; but I am grieved to hear them act as witnesses for themselves, for then I know that their witness is not true: if it were so, they would be the last men to publish it abroad. There are brethren abroad, whose eminent graciousness is not very clear to others, but it is very evident to themselves; and equally vivid is their apprehension of the great inferiority of most of their brethren. They talk to us, not as men of like passions with ourselves and brethren of the same stock, but as demigods, thundering out of the clouds, giants discoursing to the little men around them. If it be true that they are so superior, I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice; but my suspicion is, that their glorying is not good, and that the spirit which they manifest will prove a snare to them. I meet, I say, sometimes with brethren who feel contented with their spiritual condition. They do not ascribe their satisfactory character to themselves, but to the grace of God; but for all that, they do feel that they are what they ought to be, and what others ought to be but are not. They see in themselves a great deal that is good, very much that is commendable, and a large amount of excellence, which they can hold up for the admiration of others. They have reached the “higher life,” and are wonderfully fond of telling us so, and explaining the phenomena of their self-satisfied condition. Though Paul was compelled to say, “In me, that is, in my flesh, there dwelleth no good thing,” their flesh appears to be of a better quality: whereas he had spiritual conflicts, and found that without were fightings, and within were fears, these very superior persons have already trodden Satan under their feet, and reached a state in which they have little else to do but to divide the spoil. Now, brethren, whenever we meet with persons who can congratulate themselves upon their personal character, or whenever we get into the state of self-content ourselves, there is an ill savour about the whole concern. I do not know what impression it makes upon you, but whenever I hear a brother talk about himself, and how full he is of the Spirit of God, and all that, I am distressed for him. I think I hear the voice of that stately professor, who said, “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are.” I feel that I would prefer to listen to that other man, who said, “God be merciful to me a sinner,” and went down to his house justified rather than the other. When I hear a man crow about himself, I think of Peter’s declaration-“Though all men should deny thee, yet will not I,” and I hear another cock crow. Self-complacency is the mother of spiritual declension. David said, “My mountain standeth firm: I shall never be moved;” but ere long the face of God was hidden and he was troubled. In the presence of a professor who is pleased with his own attainments, one remembers that warning text: “Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.” Great I! great I! wherever thou art, thou must come down. Great I is always opposed to great Christ. John the Baptist knew the truth when he said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” There is no room in this world for God’s glory and man’s glory. He who is less than nothing, magnifies God; but he “who is rich, and increased in goods, and hath need of nothing,” dishonours God, and he himself “is naked and poor and miserable.”

Furthermore, we have observed that the best of men do not talk of their attainments; their tone is self-depreciation, not self-content. We have known some eminently holy men, who are now in heaven, and in looking back upon their lives we note that they were never conscious of being what we all thought them to be. Everybody could see their beauty of character except themselves. They lamented their imperfections while we admired the grace of God in them. I remember a minister of Christ, now with God-I will not mention his name-if I did, it would be familiar to your ears as household words: it was proposed by some of us, when he left the ministry in his old age, that we should hold a meeting to bid him farewell, and testify our esteem for him. It was my duty to propose the fraternal act, but I hesitated as I saw the blush mantle his cheek, and I paused when he rose and besought us never to think of such a thing, for he felt himself to be one of the most unworthy of all the servants of the Lord. Every man of the associated ministers that day assembled, felt that our venerable friend was by far the superior of us all, and yet his own estimate of himself was lowliest of the lowly. He had sacrificed much, but I never heard him speak of his sacrifices; he lived in habitual fellowship with God, but I never heard him declare it, much less glory in it. Shallow streams brawl and babble, but deep waters flow on in silence. Of all the departed saints whom it has been my lot to esteem highly in love for their works’ sake, I do not remember one who dared to praise himself, though I can recollect several poor little spiritual babes who did so to their own injury. If ever true saints speak of what God has done by them, they do it in such a modest way that you might think they were talking of some one five hundred miles away, rather than of themselves. They have scrupulously laid all their crowns at the Saviour’s feet, not in word only, but in spirit. When I remember these sacred names of the great departed, I feel it hard to have patience with the unspiritual, unholy boastings of personal holiness and high spirituality, which are getting common in these days. Drums make much noise, but we know by observation that it is not their fulness which makes the sound.

Again, we have noticed that we ourselves, in our own holiest moments, do not feel self-complacent. Whenever we get near to God, and really enter into fellowship with him, the sensations we feel are the very reverse of self-congratulation. Job, in this, was the type of every believing man. Till he saw God he spoke up for his own innocence, and defended himself against the charges of his friends; but when the Lord revealed himself to him, he said, “Mine eye seeth thee, therefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes.” We never see the beauty of Christ without at the same time perceiving our own deformity. When we neglect prayer and self-examination we grow mighty vain fellows, but when we live near to God in private devotion and heart-searching, we put off our ornaments from us. In the light of God’s countenance we perceive our many flaws and imperfections, and instead of saying, “l am clean,” we cry out, “Woe is me, for I am a man of unclean lips.” Now if this be our own experience, we infer from it that those who think well of themselves must know little of that revealing light which humbles all who dwell in it.

My observation of personal character has been somewhat wide, and I cannot help bearing my testimony that I am greatly afraid of men who make loud professions of superior sanctity. I have had the misfortune to have known, on one or two occasions, superfine brethren, who were, in their own ideas, far above the rest of us, and almost free from human frailties. I confess to have felt very much humbled by their eminent goodness until I found them out: they talked of complete sanctification, of a faith which never staggered, of an old nature entirely dead, until I wondered at them; but I wondered more when I found that all the while they were rotten at the core, were negligent of common duties while boasting of the loftiest spirituality, and were even immoral while they condemned others for comparative trifles. I have now become very suspicious of all who cry up their own wares. I had rather have a humble, timid, fearful, watchful, self-depreciating Christian to be my companion, than any of the religions exquisites who crave our admiration. These great-winged eagles who fly so loftily win, I fear, turn out to be unclean birds. The excessive verdure of a superfinely flourishing religiousness often covers a horrible bog of hypocrisy.

Let me add, once more, that whatever shape self-satisfaction may assume-and it bears a great many-it is at bottom nothing but a shirking of the hardship of Christian soldierhood. The Christian soldier has to fight with sins every day, and if he be a man of God, and God’s Spirit is in him, he will find he wants all the strength he has, and a great deal more, to maintain his ground and make progress in the divine life. Now, self-contentment is a shirking of the battle, I do not care how it is come by. Some people shirk watchfulness, repentance, and holy care, by believing that the only sanctification they need is already theirs by imputation. They use the work of the Lord Jesus for them as though it could thrust away the necessity of the Spirit’s work in them. Personal holiness they will not hear of: it is legal. If they come across such a text as “Without holiness no man shall see the Lord;” or, “Be not deceived, God is not mocked, whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap,” they straightway force another meaning upon it, or else forget it altogether. Another class believe that they have perfection in the flesh, while a third attain to the same complacent condition by the notion that they have overcome all their sins by believing that they have done so; as if believing your battles to be won was the same thing as winning them. This, which they call faith, I take the liberty to call a lazy, self-conceited presumption; and though they persuade themselves that their sins are dead, it is certain that their carnal security is vigorous enough, and highly probable that the rest of their sins are only keeping out of the way to let their pride have room to develop itself to ruinous proportions.

You can reach self-complacency by a great many roads. I have known enthusiasts reach it by sheer intoxication of excitement, while Antinomians come at it by imagining that the law is abolished, and that what is sin in others is not sin in saints. There are theories which afford an evil peace to the mind by throwing all blame of sin upon fate, and others which lower the standard of God’s demands so as to make them reachable by fallen humanity. Some dream that a mere dead faith in Jesus will save them, let them live as they list; and others that they are already as good as need be.

Many have fallen into the same condition by another error, for they have said, “Well, we cannot conquer all sin, and therefore we need not aim at it. Some of our sins are constitutional, and will never be got rid of.” Under these evil impressions they sit down and say, “It is well, O soul, thou art in an excellent condition; sit still and take thine ease, there is little more to be done, there is no need to attempt more.” All this is evil to the last degree.

I have used few theological terms, because it does not matter how we get to be self-satisfied, whether by an orthodox or a heterodox mode of reasoning; it is a mischievous thing in any case. The fact is, my brother, the Lord calls us to this high calling of contending with sin within and without until we die; and it is of no use our mincing the matter, we must fight if we would reign; our sins will have to be contended with till our dying day, and probably we shall have to fight upon our death-bed. Therefore, every day we are bound to be upon our watch-tower against sin around and within us. It is of no use our deluding ourselves with pretty theories, which act only as spiritual opium to cause unhealthy dreams. Sin is a real thing with each one of us, and must be daily wrestled with; there is an evil heart of unbelief within us, and the devil without us, and we must watch, and pray, and cry mightily, and strive, and struggle, and own that we have not yet apprehended. If we dream that we are at the goal already, we shall stop short of the prize. The full soul loatheth the honeycomb; a man full of self, cares for nothing more. Shake off these slothful bands, my brethren; quit you like men-be strong. You are as weak as others, and as likely to sin; watch, therefore, and pray, lest ye enter into temptation.

What is it, at bottom, that makes men contented with themselves? It may be, first of all, a forgetfulness of the awful holiness of the law of God. If the law of the ten commandments is to be read only as its letter runs, I could imagine a man’s judging himself and saying, “I have apprehended;” but when we know that the law is spiritual, how can we be self-complacent? My dear brother, if thou thinkest thou hast reached its perfect height, I ask thee to hear these words: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy mind, and with all thy strength, and thy neighbour as thyself.” Canst thou say, in the sight of a heart-searching God, “I have fulfilled all that”? If you can, I am staggered at you, and think you the victim of a strong delusion, which leads you to believe a lie.

Brethren who can take delight in themselves must have lost sight of the heinousness of sin. The least sin is a desperate evil, an assault upon the throne of God, an insult to the majesty of heaven. The simple act of plucking the forbidden fruit cost us Paradise. There is a bottomless pit of sin in every transgression, a hell in every iniquity. If we keep clear of sins of action, and if our tongue be so bridled that we avoid every hasty and unadvised speech, yet do we not know that our thoughts and imaginations, our looks and longings of heart, have in them an infinity of evil? If, after having learned that sin can only be washed out by the death of the Son of God, and that even the flames of hell cannot make atonement for a single sin, a man can then say, “I am content with myself,” it is to be feared that he has made a fatal mistake as to his own character.

Is there not failure, in such cases, to understand the highest standard of Christian living? If we measure ourselves among ourselves, there are many believers here who might be pretty well satisfied. You are as generous as other Christians are, considering your income. You are as prayerful as most other professors, and as earnest in doing good as any of your neighbours; if you are worldly, yet not more worldly than most professors, nowadays, and so you judge yourself not to be far below the standard. But what a standard! Let us seek a better. Brethren, it is a very healthy thing for us who are ministers to read a biography like that of M’Cheyne. Read that through, if you are a minister, and it will burst many of your wind-bags. You will find yourselves collapse most terribly. Take the life of Brainerd amongst the Indians, or of Baxter in our own land. Think of the holiness of George Herbert, the devoutness of Fletcher, or the zeal of Whitfield. Where do you find yourself after reading their lives? Might you not peep about to find a hiding-place for your insignificance?

When we mix with dwarfs we think ourselves giants, but in the presence of giants we become dwarfs. When we think of the saints departed, and remember their patience in suffering, their diligence in labour, their ardour, their self-denial, their humility, their tears, their prayers, their midnight cries, their intercession for the souls of others, their pouring out their hearts before God for the glory of Christ, why, we shrink into less than nothing, and find no word of boasting on our tongue. If we survey the life of the only perfect One, our dear Lord and Master, the sight of his beauty covers our whole countenance with a blush. He is the lily, and we are the thorns. He is the sun, and we are as the night. He is all good, and we are all ill. In his presence we bow in the dust, we confess our sin, and count ourselves unworthy to unloose his shoelatchets.

It is to be feared that there is springing up in some parts of the Christian church a deceitful form of self-righteousness, which leads even good people to think too highly of themselves. It is a fashionable form of fanaticism, very pleasing to the flesh, very fascinating, and very deadly. Many, I fear, are not really living so near to God as they think they are, neither are they as holy as they dream. It is very easy to frequent Bible readings, and conferences, and excited public meetings, and to fill one’s self with the gas of self-esteem. A little pious talk with a sort of Christians who always walk on high stilts will soon tempt you to use the stilts yourself; but indeed, dear brother, you are a poor, unworthy worm and a nobody, and if you get one inch above the ground, you get just that inch too high. Remember, you may think yourself to be very strong in a certain direction, because you do not happen to be tried on that point. Many of us are exceedingly good tempered when nobody provokes us. Some are wonderfully patient, because they have a sound constitution, and have no racking pains to endure; and others are exceedingly generous, because they have more money than they want. A ship’s seaworthiness is never quite certain till she has been out at sea. The grand thing will be to be sound before the living God in the day of trial. I pray every believer here to get off the high horse, and to remember that he is “naked and poor and miserable” apart from Christ, and only in Jesus Christ is he anything, and that if he thinketh himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself, but does not deceive God.

In the second place, look at Paul as placing the past in its true light. He says, “Forgetting those things which are behind.” What does he mean? Paul does not mean that he forgot the mercy of God which he had enjoyed; far from it. Paul does not mean that he forgot the sins which he had committed; far from it, he would always remember them to humble him. We must follow out the figure which he is using, and so read him. When a man ran in the Grecian games, if he had run half way, and passed most of his fellows, and had then turned to look round and to rejoice over the distance which he had already covered, he would have lost the race. Suppose he had commenced singing his own praises, and said, “I have come down the hill, along the valley, and up the rising ground on this side. See, there are one, two, three, four, five, six runners far behind me.” While thus praising himself he would lose the race. The only hope for the racer was to forget all that was behind, and occupy his entire thoughts with the piece of ground which lay in front. Never mind though you have run so far, you must let the space which lies between you and the goal engross all your thoughts and command all your powers. It must be so with regard to all the sins which we have overcome. Perhaps at this moment you might honestly say, “I have overcome a very fierce temper,” or, “I have bestirred my naturally indolent spirit.” Thank God for that. Stop long enough to say, “Thank God for that,” but do not pause to congratulate yourselves as though some great thing had been done, for then it may soon be undone. Perhaps the very moment you are rejoicing over your conquered temper it will leap back upon you, like a lion from the covert, and you will say, “I thought you were dead and buried, and here you are roaring at me again.” The very easiest way to give resurrection to old corruptions is to erect a trophy over their graves; they will at once lift up their heads and howl out, “We are alive still.” It is a great thing to overcome any sinful habit, but it is needful to guard against it still, for you have not conquered it so long as you congratulate yourself upon the conquest. In the same light we must regard all the grace we have obtained. I know some dear friends who are mighty in prayer, and my soul rejoices to join in their supplications; but I should be sorry indeed to hear them praise their own prayers. We love yonder brother for his generosity, but we hope he will never tell others that he is liberal; yonder dear friend is very humble, but if he were to boast of it, there would be an end of it. Self-esteem is a moth which frets the garments of virtue. Those flies, those pretty flies of self-praise, must be killed, for if they get into your pot of ointment they will spoil it all. Forget the past; thank God who has made you pray so well; thank God who has made you kind, gentle, or humble; thank God who has made you give liberally; but forget it all and go forward, since there is yet very much land to be possessed!

And so with all the work for Jesus which we have done. Some people seem to have very good memories as to what they have performed. They used to serve God wonderfully when they were young! They began early and were full of zeal! They can tell you all about it with much pleasure. In middle life they wrought marvels, and achieved great wonders; but now they rest on their oars, they are giving other people an opportunity to distinguish themselves-their own heroic age is over. Dear brother, as long as ever you are in this world forget what you have already done, and go forward to other service! Living on the past is one of the faults of old churches. We, for instance, as a church, may begin to congratulate ourselves upon the great things God has done by us, for we shall be sure to put it in that pretty shape, although we shall probably mean the great things we have done ourselves. After praising ourselves thus we shall gain no further blessing, but shall decline by little and little. The same is true of denominations. What acclamations are heard when allusion is made to what our fathers did! Oh, the name of Carey, and Knibb, and Fuller! We Baptists think we have nothing to do now but to go upstairs and go to bed, for we have achieved eternal glory through the names of these good men; and as for our Wesleyan friends, how apt they are to harp upon Wesley, Fletcher, Nelson, and other great men! Thank God for them: they were grand men; but the right thing is to forget the past, and pray for another set of men to carry on the work. We should never be content, but “On, on, on,” should be our cry! When they asked Napoleon why he continually made wars, he said, “I am the child of war; conquest has made me what I am, and conquest must maintain me.” The Christian church is the child of spiritual war; she only lives as she fights, and rides forth conquering and to conquer. God deliver us from the self-congratulatory spirit, however it may come, and make us long and pine after something better!

And now the third point. Paul, having put the present and past into their right places, goes on to the future, aspiring eagerly to make it glorious; for he says, “reaching forth unto those things which are before.” Does he not here give us the picture of a runner? He reaches forth. The man, as he speeds, throws himself forward, almost out of the perpendicular. His eye is at the goal already. His hand is far in advance of his feet, the whole body is leaning forward; he runs as though he would project himself to the end of the journey before his legs can carry him there. That is how the Christian should be; always throwing himself forward after something more than he has yet reached, not satisfied with the rate at which he advances, his soul always going at twenty times the pace of the flesh. John Bunyan gives us a little parable of the man on horseback. He is bidden by his master to ride in a hurry to fetch the physician. But the horse is a sorry jade. “Well,” saith Bunyan, “but if his master sees that the man on the horse’s back is whipping and spurring, and pulling the bridle, and struggling with all his might, he judges that the man would go if he could.” That is how the Christian should always be, not only as devout, earnest, and useful as he can be, but panting to be a great deal more so, spurring this old flesh and striving against this laggard spirit if perchance he can do more. Brethren, we ought to be reaching forward to be like Jesus. Never may we say, “I am like so-and-so, and that is enough.” Am I like Jesus, perfectly like Jesus? If not, away, away, away from everything I am or have been; I cannot rest until I am like my Lord. The aim of the Christian is to be perfect: if he seeks to be anything less than perfect, he aims at an object lower than that which God has placed before him. To master every sin, and to have and possess and exhibit every virtue,-this is the Christian’s ambition. He who would be a great artist must not follow low models. The artist must have a perfect model to copy; if he does not reach to it, he will reach far further than if he had an inferior model to work by. When a man once realises his own ideal, it is all over with him. A great painter once had finished a picture, and he said to his wife with tears in his eyes, “It is all over with me, I shall never paint again, I am a ruined man.” She enquired, “Why”? “Because,” he says, “that painting contents and satisfies me; it realises my idea of what painting ought to be, and therefore I am sure my power is gone, for that power lies in having ideals which I cannot reach, something yet beyond me which I am striving after.” May none of us ever say, “I have reached my ideal, now I am what I ought to be, there is nothing beyond me.” Perfection, brethren, absolute perfection, may God help us to strive after it! That is the model, “Be ye perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” “Shall we ever reach it?” says one. Thousands and millions have reached it; there they are before the throne of God, their robes are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb; and we shall possess the same, only let us be struggling after it by God’s good help. Let every believer be striving, that in the details of common life, in every thought, in every word, in every action, he may glorify God. This ought to be our object; if we do not reach it, it is that which we must press for,-that from morning light to evening shade we shall live unto God. Whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, we should do all in the name of the Lord Jesus. This is what we are to seek after, praying always in the Holy Ghost to be sanctified wholly, spirit, soul, and body. “It is a wonderfully high standard,” says one. Would you like me to lower it, brother? I should be very sorry to have it lowered for myself. If the highest degree of holiness were denied to any one of us, it would be a heavy calamity. Is it not the joy of a Christian to be perfectly like his Lord? Who would wish to stop short of it? To be obliged to live under the power of even the least sin for ever, would be a horrible thing! No, we never can be content short of perfection; we will reach forward towards that which is before.

And now the apostle is our model, in the fourth place, because he puts forth all his exertions to reach that which he desires. He says, “This one thing I do,” as if he had given up all else, and addicted himself to one sole object-to aim to be like Jesus Christ. There were many other things Paul might have attempted, but he says, “this one thing I do.” Probably Paul was a poor speaker: why did not he try to make himself a rhetorician? No; he came not with excellency of speech. But you tell me Paul was busy with his tent-making I know he was; what with tent-making, preaching, and visiting, and watching night and day, he had more than enough to do, but all these were a part of his pursuit of the one thing, he was labouring perfectly to serve his Master, and to render himself up as a whole burnt-offering unto God. I invite every soul that has been saved by the precious blood of Christ, to gather up all its strength for this one thing, to cultivate a passion for grace, and an intense longing after holiness. Ah, if we could but serve God as God should be served, and be such manner of people as we ought to be in all holy conversation and godliness, we should see a new era in the church. The greatest want of the church at this day is holiness.

Why did Paul pursue holiness with such concentrated purpose? Because he felt God had called him to it. He aimed at the prize of his high calling. God had elected Paul to be a champion against sin. Selected to be Jehovah’s champion, he felt that he must play the man. Moreover, it was “God in Christ Jesus” who made the choice, and as the apostle looked up and saw the mild face of the Redeemer, and marked the thorn-crown of the King of Sorrows, he felt he must overcome sin, he could not let a single evil live within him; and, though he had not yet apprehended, yet he felt he must press forward till he had apprehended that to which God in Christ had called him.

Moreover, the apostle saw his crown, the crown of life that fadeth not away, hanging bright before his eyes. What, said he, shall tempt me from that path of which yon crown is the end? Let the golden apples be thrown in my way; I cannot even look at them, nor stay to spurn them with my feet. Let the sirens sing on either side, and seek to charm me with their evil beauty, to leave the holy road; but I must not, and I will not. Heaven! Heaven! Heaven! is not this enough to make a man dash forward in the road thither? The end is glorious, what if the running be laborious? When there is such a prize to be had, who will grudge a struggle? Paul pressed forward towards the mark for the prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus. He felt he was a saved man, and he meant through the same grace to be a holy man. He longed to grasp the crown, and hear the “Well done, good and faithful servant,” which his Master would award him at the end of his course. Brethren and sisters, I wish I could stir myself and stir you to a passionate longing after a gracious, consistent, godly life, yea, for an eminently, solidly, thoroughly devoted and consecrated life. You will grieve the Spirit if you walk inconsistently; you will dishonour the Lord that bought you; you will weaken the church; you will bring shame upon yourself. Even though you be “saved so as by fire,” it will be an evil and a bitter thing to have in any measure departed from God. But to be always going onward, to be never self-satisfied, to be always labouring to be better Christians, to be aiming at the rarest sanctity, this shall be your honour, the church’s comfort, and the glory of God. May the Lord help you to perfect holiness in the fear of God. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Philippians 3