C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington

“I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn.”-Zechariah 12:10.

See, beloved, whence every good thing flows-“I will pour upon the house of David the spirit of grace.” The starting point is the Lord’s sovereign act in giving the Spirit. Every work of grace begins with God; no gracious thought or act ever originates in the free will of unregenerate man. The Lord is first in all things which are acceptable in his sight. It is God that “worketh in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure.” “Thou hast wrought all our works in us.”

Then notice how exceedingly effectual the work of the Lord is. Men may persuade, and even inspired prophets may warn, without effect, but when the Lord putteth his hand to the work he never fails; as soon as ever he says “I will pour,” the next sentence is, “and they shall look.” When he works, who shall hinder? His people shall be willing in the day of his power. “They shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn.” This is effectual calling indeed. In such results we see what is the exceeding greatness of his power to usward who believe according to the working of his mighty power, which he wrought in Christ when he raised him from the dead.

Observe, thirdly, the dignity and the prominent position which is occupied by faith. “I will pour upon them the spirit of supplication, and they shall look.” Faith is evidently intended here, for faith is ever that glance of the eye which brings to us the blessing which Christ has to bestow. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in him should not perish.” A look at the brazen serpent healed Israel, and, according to the figure, believing in Jesus Christ is a saving look. Now, this faith-look is mentioned as the first fruit of the Spirit: before they mourn they look; when the spirit of grace and supplication is given its principal result is looking unto Jesus.

But now see what a choice fruit follows upon faith: a soft, sweet, mellow fruit of the Spirit-“They shall mourn for him as one that mourneth for his only son.” This sorrow is a sweet bitter, a delicious grief, full of all manner of rare excellencies. It is a peculiar order of mourning, and differs greatly from the sorrow of the world, which worketh death. Those who mourn in this fashion are made sorry after a godly manner, for godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of. Mark, it is godly sorrow or repentance towards God. Its speciality is that it looks Godward, and weeps because of grieving him. The lamentation described in the text is a mourning for Christ. “And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn.” This is a very remarkable peculiarity of true spirit-wrought repentance: it fixes its eye mainly upon the wrong done to the Lord by its sin. No other repentance but that which is evangelical looks in that direction. The repentance of ungodly men is a horror at their punishment, an alarm at the dire result of their transgressions. They repent like Esau, not of eating the pottage, but of losing the birthright: they see sin only in reference to themselves and their fellow men, but its higher bearings in reference to the Lord they quite ignore. The ungodly at times, and especially in the hour of death, feel remorse, but it has nothing to do with God, unless it be that they tremble at his justice, and fear the punishment which he executes: it is, after all, pure selfishness; they are sorry because they are about to suffer the consequences of their rebellion. Evangelical repentance sympathizes with the Great Father, and grieves that he should have been so sadly provoked. See it in David: “Against thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight.” See it in the prodigal: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.” See how it was wrought in Saul of Tarsus, for the voice from heaven said, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” It was sin as against the exalted Saviour which struck home to Paul’s heart and laid him low at the feet of his Lord. All true repentance has this for its special mark, that it is attended with evident reconciliation to God, since it now regrets the wrongs done to him. One sure seal of its genuine spirituality is that it is a lamentation on account of the dishonour which sin has done to God and to his Christ. We are going to view the special case before us from that point of view, and work it out in three or four ways.

First, according to our text, when the spirit of grace is given, there will be a special mourning for Christ on the part of Israel. You must take the text in its primary significance, for we must treat the word of God fairly. There will come a day when the ancient people of God, who have so long rejected Jesus of Nazareth, will discover him to be the Messiah, and then one of their first feelings will be that of deep humiliation and bitter regret before God. They will mourn as at the mourning of Hadadrimmon, when the beloved Josiah fell in battle, and all good men knew that the light of the nation was quenched. “The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was taken in their pits, of whom we said, Under his shadow we shall live among the heathen.” They justly mourned for pious Josiah, for he was the last of their godly kings, and the full shower of wrath began to fall upon Judah when he was taken from the evil to come. Right well also will it be for them to mourn bitterly as a nation, when they discern the Lord whom they have pierced, for is there not a cause? They had a peculiar interest in the Messiah, for it was to them, and almost to them only, that his coming was clearly revealed. God spoke of him to Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the fathers. It was from their race that the Messiah was to come. It is no small honour to Abraham’s seed that the man Christ Jesus is one of them. It was a Judean virgin of whom he was born, and to Israel he is indeed bone of their bone and flesh of their flesh. When he came on earth, he confined his ministry to them: of them he said, “I am not sent save to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” He healed their sick, he opened the eyes of their blind ones, and raised their dead. It was in their streets that he delivered his gracious messages of love; and when he was gone it was in their chief city that the preaching of the gospel began, and the Holy Spirit was poured out. “Go ye and teach all nations,” said he, “beginning at Jerusalem.” It was from among the Jews that the first vanguard of the church’s host was chosen. The first to preach the gospel were of the house of Israel, and they might have been to this day in the very front of the army, peculiarly adapted as they are in many respects to lead the way in the teaching of a pure faith, but they judged themselves unworthy, and therefore the ministers of Christ, though chosen from themselves, were obliged to say, “We turn unto the Gentiles.” Then came their casting away for a time, during which season their own Messiah is despised and blasphemed by the nation which ought to have received him with exultation. “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.”

Their rejection of the Lord Jesus was most determined, and carried to the utmost length. It was not sufficient for that generation in which Jesus lived to turn a deaf ear to his admonitions, they must needs seek his life. Once they would have cast him headlong from the brow of a hill, at another time they took up stones again to stone him, and at last they did take him and bear false witness against him, fiercely seeking his blood. By their malice he was given over to the Romans and put to death, not because the Romans desired to slay him, but because the clamour of the multitude was, “Crucify him, crucify him;” and their voices prevailed with Pilate. They imprecated on their heads his blood, saying, “His blood be on us and on our children.” They pushed the rejection of the King of the Jews to the utmost possible extreme, for they rested not till he hung upon the shameful tree, and life remained no more in him. Peter said, “And now, brethren, I wot that through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers.” How bitterly then will they lament when that ignorance is removed! They will mourn as one who has lost his firstborn and only child, as for a loss never to be repaired.

Worse still was this, that their ignorance was to a large extent wilful, for Jesus was rejected by them against the clearest possible light. John came as a voice crying in the wilderness, and all men knew that John was a prophet. Those who most hated Jesus of Nazareth were yet afraid to say that John was not sent of God. Yet he bare witness of Jesus and said, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.” Moreover, Jesus himself spake as never man spake: his teachings carried their own evidence within themselves, so that he justly said, “If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: but now they have no cloke for their sin.” His words were accompanied, also, with signs and wonders, by which he proved his deity and his Father’s pleasure in him, so that he said, “If I had not done among them the works which none other man did, they had not had sin: but now have they both seen and hated both me and my Father.” In memory of this he stood and wept over Jerusalem, saying, “How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not.” What agony will rend their hearts when they perceive how blinded they were, and how they despised their own mercies.

One great reason for the bitter mourning of restored and believing Israel will be the long ratification of this rejection of Christ by generation after generation; for nearly nineteen hundred years have passed since Calvary’s cross was erected, but they reject the Nazarene still. Alas, poor Israelites! The veil is still upon their faces, though Moses be read in their synagogues every Sabbath day. Alas! for the sorrowing seed of Jacob, waiting still, with their wailing hymns, for the coming of the Messiah, who has come already, but who was “despised and rejected” of his own people, and made by them “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” They will mourn as over the grave of an only child when they come to know that Jesus of Nazareth was indeed the virgin-born Emmanuel, God with us. They will wring their hands and seek to blot out the pages of their history with tears because they did so despitefully maltreat and so obstinately reject their Lord, the Prince of the house of David. If another Jeremiah shall be found to lead the singing men and singing women in their lamentations he will have no need to look long for subjects for his laments. Looking to him whom they pierced, the whole house of Israel will weep bitterly.

And now, dear brethren, it will tend to increase the blessed sorrows which will then sweep over Israel, to think how the Lord has had patience with them, and still has never cast them away. To this day they are as distinct a people as ever they were. They dwell alone: they are not numbered among the people. Persecuted almost beyond conception, poor Israel, for many a century, has been the butt and jest of those-I shame to say it-who called themselves Christians, and yet despised the chosen people of the Lord. Alas! the precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, have been esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter! “How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven unto the earth the beauty of Israel!” They have for centuries endured a terrible chastening: they have been turned upside down, and wiped as when a man wipeth a dish, but still they stand waiting for a vainly expected King. They would not have their true King, Jesus the Son of David, and they have no other-where is there any king of the Jews? The sceptre hath departed from Jacob, and the lawgiver from between his feet, for Shiloh has come, even he who, as he did hang upon the cross, was thrice named, “King of the Jews.” Jesus is the sole and only King of the Jews, and they are preserved and kept alive notwithstanding a thousand influences which threatened to make them lose their nationality: they shall yet be gathered again, and their restoration shall be the fulness of the Gentiles, and we and they shall rejoice together in him who hath made both one, and broken down the middle wall or partition, so that there is now neither Jew nor Gentile, barbarous Scythian, bond nor free, but we are all one in Christ Jesus.

I now come to more personal matters. In the second place there is a general mourning which God gives to his church on behalf of Christ; a mourning which is only known and manifested when the spirit of grace and supplication is fully poured out. I would we might have a large measure of that mourning at this present hour. Let us deplore at this time, beloved brethren and sisters, that Jesus Christ by the great mass of men is treated with utter indifference, if not with contempt. Where are the multitudes even of our own city at this present moment? There are many gathered in places of worship to sing hymns in the Redeemer’s praise, but there are many, many thousands in this city,-I have even heard it said that there are a million of people,-who seldom, if ever, enter within the walls of the house of God. Jesus has suffered and bled to the death for men who, when they hear of it, treat his loving sacrifice as an idle tale. He is not quite unknown, I hope, to any of our city, some tidings of him must have reached their ears, but they scarce have curiosity enough to enquire more about it. Their little children go home from school and sing to them on the Sabbath-day, and so they have sweetly sounded in their ears the “old, old story” of redeeming love; but ah, they break the Sabbath, they make it a day of amusement and pleasure, or they spend it in sloth. The Bible is left unread, or read without interest in its divine message. They have no care for the bleeding Lamb, no regard for their best friend. If they do not sorrow about this, we ought to sorrow for them, for they are men and women like ourselves, and they are living in contempt of our Lord Jesus. Some of them have many amiabilities, there is so much indeed of human excellence about them that we have deplored that the “one thing” which they lacked was not sought after by them: yet they continue as they are, and it is to be feared many of them will so continue till they perish. Weep not so much because Jesus suffered on the cross, as because he is practically crucified every day by this carelessness and contempt. The crucifixion at Calvary is over now, and it is but the visible token of a crucifixion to which careless men and women are putting the Redeemer every day. They care nothing about him; dead or alive he is nothing to them. At the thought of such unkindness will you not cry, “For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water.”

Reflect sorrowfully, too, how the Lord Jesus has been ill treated and pierced and wounded by his opponents; and I mention here as among the chief of them those who deny his deity. At this moment there are men of great attainments and abilities who will extol our Lord’s manhood, and even profess to be in love with his character, but they will not yield him divine honours. Oh, thou Son of God, to whom the Father bare witness by an audible voice out of heaven, saying, “This is my beloved Son, hear ye him,”-they reject the witness of God and so dishonour thee. Thou didst not count it robbery to be equal with God, but they fain would pierce thee in thy divinity, and make thee nothing but a man. Men also reject our Lord’s atonement. By many that truth is obscured or utterly denied! I hear still the cry in many quarters, “Let him come down from the cross and we will believe on him.” Modern philosophers will accept anything except the bleeding Substitute for guilty man. When I think of the false doctrine which is preached about the Lord Jesus, and how his glory is tarnished by the lips of his professed ministers, who think his gospel a worn-out tale, I see that there is, indeed, occasion for us to get us to our chambers, and there pour out our hearts in lamentation. Alas, my Lord, why art thou thus blasphemed by the worldly wise? Why is thy truth despised among the learned and ridiculed by the scribes?

I do not know when my grief has been more stirred for my Lord and Master than when brought actually to see the superstition by which our holy faith is travestied and his blessed name blasphemed. Turning from scepticism, where he is wounded in the house of his enemies, you come to superstition, where he is wounded in the house of his professed friends, and what wounds they are! I have felt sometimes as if I could tear down the baby image held in the Virgin’s hands, when I have seen men and women prostrate before it. What, O ye sons of Antichrist, could ye not make an idol, like the Egyptians, out of your cats and dogs, or find your gods in your gardens? Could ye not make a golden calf, as Israel did in the wilderness, or borrow the fantastic shapes of India’s deities? Could nothing content you till the image of the holy child Jesus should be made into an idol, and Christ upon the cross uplifted should be set up as an image for men to bow before it? The idolatry which worships the image of the devil is less blasphemous than that which worships the image of Christ. It is an awful sacrilege to make the holy Jesus appear to be an accomplice in the violation of the divine command; yea, and to turn that blessed memorial of death into an idolatrous rite in which divine honours are given to a piece of bread. Was there ever sin like unto this sin? Thou, innocent Saviour, it is grief indeed to think that thou shouldst be set up in the idol temple, among saints and saintesses, and that men should think that they are honouring God by breaking his first and second commands. This must be to our Lord the most loathsome of all things under heaven. How doth he in patience bear it? Let not his people behold it without a mourning like the mourning of Hadadrimmon in the valley of Megiddon, because our blessed Christ is so blasphemed by Antichrist that the image of the incarnate Son of God is set up as an object of idolatrous worship.

There should be great sorrow and mourning when we read the history of the past, and look even at the present, at the fearful wrongs which have been done in the name of Jesus. Jesus is all love and tenderness, and yet they place his cross upon the blood-stained banners of accursed war. Jesus, who said, “Put up thy sword into its sheath, for they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,” is nevertheless adjured to go forth with armed hosts to blow men to pieces with guns, or pierce them with bayonets. When the Spanish nation captured Peru and Mexico, it makes one’s blood boil to read that, while they murdered the defenceless people for their gold, they set up in every town the holy cross. What had the cross to do with their murders and robberies! They tortured their victims in the name of Jesus, and when they put them to death they held up before them the image of the crucified Jesus. What horrors have been wrought in thy name, O Christ of God! Men have, indeed, pierced thee, and they who take thy name and call themselves of “the Society of Jesus” have been chief enactors of these abominations. Thy crucifixion at Calvary is a small part of the matter; for the sons of men have gone on piercing thee by maligning thee thus infamously, thou Lord of boundless love.

And now to-day, what is done in our land? I can scarcely stay to enlarge, but there are multitudes of things done in the name of the religion of Christ which are a dishonour to it. Under the pretence of guarding the interests of his church, a certain community of professing Christians beg that their fellow Christians may not be buried within the same enclosure as themselves; forsooth, Christ’s name must sanction such un-Christly bigotry! One section of the church must also be patronized and made dominant in the land, and this wrong is done in the name of Jesus. It is to honour him that this crying injustice is perpetrated! Hear it, ye heavens! There are multitudes of things besides, which I shall not mention, for which the Christian church ought perpetually to sorrow. That she does wrong is enough to make her be humble; but that she has dared often to do wrong, even in the very name of Jesus, is worst of all.

Still, brethren, the worst sorrow probably for us all is that there should be so many professing Christians who act in a manner the very opposite to what Christ would have them do. The heathen everywhere point to our countrymen, who are supposed to be Christians, and they say of us that we are the most drunken race of men upon the face of the earth; and I suppose we are. Charges are brought against us which are supported by the conduct of our sailors and soldiers, and others who go abroad, which make the followers of Mahommed and the disciples of Brahminism to think their religion superior to our own. These Englishmen are supposed to be Christians, though they are not. This is a great scandal and a grievous sorrow under the sun.

And then in the very heart of it all lies this, that true Christians, those who are truly Christ’s blood-bought, regenerated people, nevertheless do not sufficiently bring glory to his name. Where is the zeal of the Church-the all-consuming zeal of other days? Where is the consecration which ought to rest upon all members of Christ’s blood-bought body? Where, I say, is that mightiness in prayer and supplication which at the first so gloriously prevailed? Where is that spirit of hearty love and unity; of brotherly kindness and compassion, which ought to be seen in all Christians? The first church brought great honour to the name of Christ: does the church of to-day do the like? Do even the most spiritual portions of the church bring to the Lord Jesus such honour and glory as he ought to have? Judge ye what I say. Are we not all unprofitable servants? Is there not cause for mourning, and for great mourning too, to think that Jesus should thus have been ill-treated by friends and foes? For him, our best beloved, perpetually pierced, the Church may well proclaim a fast, and mourn before the Lord, as in the day of Hadadrimmon in the valley of Megiddon.

Suffer now a word or two upon the third point, for the text speaks of a family mourning. It will be a very blessed day indeed when we see this, when the spirt of grace and supplication shall be largely poured out, and the land shall mourn, every family apart. Have you ever seen this in your households? Where the Spirit of God really rests upon a family there will be much of it, and surely there is cause enough for it in some families where there is none at all. We ought to grieve to think that there has been such formality and coldness in family devotion, so little love to Jesus manifested in the morning and evening worship. I fear that there are professing families where daily prayer is altogether neglected. The individuals, I trust, pray in their chambers, but they have given up the assembling of themselves as families to worship in the name of Jesus: as families they are prayerless and dishonour the Lord. Herein is serious cause for sorrow, because our Lord loses by this neglect that which he delights in, namely, family praises.

Families should also mourn because the Lord is not so regarded as he should be in family management. Christ is not made first and chief in family matters. Fathers look rather to the worldly prosperity of their boys in placing them out, than to their moral and spiritual advantage. Many a time marriages for the daughters are sought, not in the Lord, but solely in reference to pecuniary considerations. How much of the arrangement of the household ignores the existence of the Saviour: as for instance-much work done on the Sabbath which might be spared by a little care and thought, and consequent inability to go out to worship the Saviour with the rest of God’s people. There is a way of setting the Lord always before us in the management of household matters, and, on the other hand, there is a way of so acting as to prove that God is not in the least considered. For family quarrels, family pride, family covetousness, and family sins of all kinds, which bring shame upon our profession, and dishonour upon the name with which we are named, there ought to be great sorrow.

If there be any members of a family unconverted, this should cause to the whole household deep regret. If there be but one child unsaved, the whole should plead for him with tears. Happy are you who have all your household walking in the faith; but if there be one left out, weep not for the dead, neither bewail him, but weep for the living who is dead unto his Lord. Wife, be grieved in your heart if you have a worldly husband. O husband, mourn for thine unconverted wife! If you have brothers or sisters not yet brought to Jesus, fail not to lament concerning them. I would to God that families did sometimes come together to pay their vows with special care, and that the father would confess family faults and family sins in the name of them all, and so acknowledge each wound given to the Lord in that house. I am not alluding to those private rebukes which every wise parent must give, but I would have a common confession from all, uttered by the voice of the head of the household. Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, how blessed it is to think that thou art the God of all the families of Israel, and that thou lovest the tents of Jacob well. Grant that our households, as households, inasmuch as they sin and transgress, may also walk before thee in all humbleness. Let all families mourn: let the house of David mourn, for there is sin in royal and noble families. Let the house of Levi repent, for, alas, there are sins in ministers’ families which greatly provoke the Lord, our God. The house of Shimei, of whom we know nothing, may represent the private families which are unknown, and of the humbler order; let these also draw near to God in penitential grief. The house of Nathan may be regarded as the prophetic, or perhaps as the princely house; but be they what they may, let them all come before the Most High, each with the language of confession. It will be a grand thing for England when we shall see more family piety and family mourning for sin. They tell us that in Cromwell’s day if you went down Cheapside at a certain hour in the morning every blind of every house was down, because the inmates were at family prayer. It was then a standing ordinance of all professors of religion, and it was the great buttress against Popery. Modern Ritualists want us to go to church every morning and night to pray; the church is opened all day long, so I see by a notice on one of our churches, for private prayer: it strikes me as being rather a place for public prayer, and well adapted for the display of devotion. The idea that prayer is more acceptable in the parish church than in your own houses is a superstition, and ought to be treated with no respect. If we will pray in our families, and make every house into a church, and consecrate every room by private supplication, we shall not be fascinated by the foolish idea of the holiness of places or priests, and we shall so be guarded against the seductions of Popery. The Lord pour out the spirit of grace upon all the families of his people!

But now, lastly, and more personally: according to the text, when the Spirit of God is given, there will be personal, separate, and salutary mourning on the part of each one. “Every family apart, and their wives apart,” these words, often repeated, bring out vividly the individuality of this holy sorrow before the Lord. Let us now endeavour to enter into it.

First, dear brethren and sisters, let us mourn that our sins occasioned our Lord’s death; and when we have done this, which would naturally be the first thought from the text, and therefore will naturally occur to you without my needing to urge it, let us go on to mourn our sins before our regeneration. To me it will ever cause regret that I was unbelieving towards One who could not lie. Now, as I know my Lord, and have proved his faithfulness so well, it looks so strangely cruel that I should have doubted him, that I should have thought he could not cleanse me, or that he would not receive me. He is the tenderest of all hearts, the most loving of all beings, and yet there was a day when I thought him a severe tyrant who expected a preparation of me which I could not produce in myself. I did not know that he would take me just as I was and blot out my sin; I know it now, but I mourn that I so grievously belied him. Ought we not to grieve over our long carelessness? You used to hear the gospel, dear friend, and you understood its plan and scope, but you did not wish to feel its power: the Son of God in pity came to die for you, and yet you thought it an everyday matter to be attended to at your convenience, and you went your way to mind earthly things. O Lord, how could I shut the door of my heart against thee so long, when thy head was wet with dew and thy locks with the drops of the night? Thou didst gently knock, and knock again, my God, and yet I would not let thee in for many a year! Sorrowfully would I repent for this.

Think then, dear friends, of the contempt which we cast upon Christ while we were living in that state of carelessness; for did we not as good as say in our heart, “Pleasure is to be found in the world and not in Christ; rest is to be had in wealth, not in Jesus”? Did we not deliberately choose when were young to follow the devices of our own hearts instead of the will of Jesus? Now that we know him we think ourselves ten thousand fools that we should have seen any charms in the painted face of that Jezebel world, when Jesus stood by with all his matchless beauties. Forgive us, dear Redeemer, that we ever thought of these trifles, these transitory toys, these mockeries, and let thee go though it were but for an hour. Alas, this base contempt of thee was no error of an hour, but a crime which lasted many years. Pardon us, O Lord.

Let us reflect, again, with great regret upon the resistance which we offered to Christ. In some of us the Spirit strove mightily. I do confess that under sermons I was oftentimes brought to my knees and driven to my chamber with tears, but the next morning saw those tears evaporate, and I was as obdurate as before. Did Jesus persuade us to come to his wedding feast? Did he put his arms about our neck and say, “Come and receive my love?” By his tenderness did he persuade us, and by his terrors did he threaten us, and yet did we resist him? What a crime is this! Look at him now! Oh, look at him with his dear wounds and his face marred more than any man! Did we push him aside? Did we contend with him who only meant our good? Did we not by this conduct pierce our Lord? It was even so. Alas, for those dark days! Let the whole of our life before conversion be counted but as a breathing death. Write down its days as nights, and let the nights perish and be forgotten for ever.

But we have more than this to reflect upon, namely, our sins since conversion. Do I address any this morning who have grievously backslidden since they professed faith in Christ? Have you committed great and open sins? Has it even been found necessary to remove you from the church of God as the leper is put out from the camp? Then do not think of it without feeling your eyes swim in tears. What is justly bound by the church on earth is bound in heaven, and therefore do not despise the censure of the church of God. And if others of us have been kept-as I trust we have-from the great transgression, yet, beloved, what shall we say? Are there not with us, even with us, many sins against the Lord? We too have often been guilty of mistrust. We have doubted the Lord, who is truth itself. What a stab at his heart is this! What a re-opening of his veins! We have been gloomy sometimes, and full of murmuring, until men have said that Christians are miserable, and they have taken up a proverb against our holy faith because we have been despondent, and have not felt the joy of the Lord. This is wounding him in the house of his friends, and for this evil let us mourn.

Might not our Beloved charge lukewarmness upon very many who would be unable to deny the accusation? Lukewarm towards the bleeding Lamb-towards the dear lover of our souls! Have we not been disobedient too, leaving undone certain duties because they were unpleasant to the flesh, and doing other things which we know we ought not to have done, because we chose to please ourselves? This is a sad state of things to exist between our hearts and our best Beloved.

Has there not been in us a very great want of self-denial? What a little we have ever given to him! Did we ever pinch ourselves for him? Might he not say to us, “Thou hast bought me no sweet cane with money, neither hast thou filled me with the fat of thy sacrifices: but thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities.” And how little zeal we have shown for him. Zeal has just lingered on, like a spark in the flax unquenched; but how little flame has there been, how little love for God, how little love for perishing sinners, how little love even for Christ’s own people. How scant has been our fellowship with Jesus. I know some who, I hope, love him, who go from day to day without hearing his voice, and some will even live a week in that condition. Shame! shame! to live a month in the same house with our heart’s husband, and not to have a word with him! It is sad indeed, that he, who should be all in all to us, should often be treated as if he were second best, or nowhere in the race. Alas, alas, Christ is all excellence, and we are all deficiency. In him we may rejoice, but as to ourselves, we ought to mourn like doves because of the griefs we must have caused to his Holy Spirit through the ill estate of our souls.

We have asked you, and I pray the Spirit of God to enable you, to mourn over the past, but what shall we say as to the present? Take stock now of last week. I invite myself and you, for we are one in Christ if we are believers, to look through last week. Did you make any survey of the days as they passed? If so I think you might have said with Dr. Watts-

“What have I done for him that died

To save my guilty soul?

How are my follies multiplied,

Fast as my minutes roll.”

Has it been a week of real service for Christ? You have done something, did you do your best? Did you throw your heart into it? Did you feel that tenderness, when you were trying to bring others to Christ, which a Christian ought to feel? You had some little contention with another, did you act in a Christian spirit? Did you show the mildness and gentleness of Jesus? You were offended, did you forgive freely? for his dear sake did you cast it all behind your back? You have been somewhat in trouble, did you take your burden to him as naturally as a little child runs to its mother with a cut finger? Did you tell him all, and leave it all to him? You had a loss, did you voluntarily resign all to his will? Has there been no pride this week? Pride grieves him very much, for he is not a proud Master, and is not pleased with a proud disciple. Has there not been much to mourn over?

And now at this very moment what is the state of our feeling toward him? Must we not confess that though there is a work of grace in our souls, yet there is much about us at this moment which should make us bow down in grief before the Lord. Dear Saviour, thou knowest there is not one in this house who has more cause to mourn for thee than he does who speaks for thee now; for he feels that these poor lips are not able to tell what his heart feels, and his heart does not feel what it ought. A preacher should be like a seraph. One who speaks for Christ, and tries to praise him, should be a very Niobe when he sees the sin of men and his own. Where are my tears? The spirit truly is willing, but the flesh is weak. Methinks what I have now said of myself will suit most of you who are engaged in my Master’s service. Do you not feel that you blunder at it, that when you would paint him you make a daub of his likeness? When you would set him forth visibly crucified among the people, do you not obscure him with the very words with which you wish to reveal him? You must have such feelings, and if you have them let me close by reading these words to you; they are assuredly true when there is a time of hearty, sincere mourning for Jesus: “In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness.” So let us plunge into the sacred bath. Believing in the precious blood, let us wash and be clean. Glory be to his name, those whom he has washed are clean every whit. Amen.

Portion of Scripture Read before Sermon-Zechariah 12

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-429, 278, 287

SUDDEN SORROW

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-Day Morning, July 8th, 1877, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington

“Suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment.”-Jeremiah 4:20.

“And when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?”-Jeremiah 4:30.

Jeremiah was describing the havoc of war, a war which was devastating his country and bringing untold miseries upon the people. He says of it, “My bowels, my bowels! I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me; I cannot hold my peace, because thou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war. Destruction upon destruction is cried; for the whole land is spoiled: suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment. How long shall I see the standard, and hear the sound of the trumpet?” How grateful we ought to be that war is not raging in our own land. We should read those terrible stories which come to us concerning the destruction of human life by the two armies in the East with the utmost regret. On whichever side the victory may turn it is still to be daily lamented that men should slaughter men, and glory in wholesale murder. How true it is neither the elements in their fury, nor wild beasts in their rage, have ever been such terrible enemies to man as men. We should thank God that we dwell apart, and see our harvests ripening without the dread of their being reaped by invaders; we walk our streets without the fear of bursting shells, and seek our chambers without the apprehension of being awakened in the dead of night by the shouts of advancing adversaries. Blessed be the Lord who has given centuries of peace to the fertile hills and valleys of his chosen isle.

“O Britain, praise thy mighty God,

And make his honours known abroad;

He bade the ocean round thee flow;

Not bars of brass could guard thee so.”

Let the name of Jehovah our God be praised this morning, for giving peace in our borders, and filling us with the finest of the wheat.

There are, however, in this land, and in all lands, whether at war or peace, many calamities which come suddenly upon the sons of men, concerning which they may bitterly lament, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment.” This world at its best is not our rest. There is nothing settled below the moon. We call this terra firma, but there is nothing firm upon it; it is tossed to and fro like a troubled sea evermore. We are never for any long time in one stay; change is perpetually operating. Nothing is sure but that which is divine; nothing is abiding except that which cometh down from heaven. All things change as they pass before us, and perish in the using. At this moment your ship lies becalmed: be not too secure, for within the next few minutes you may be driving before a hurricane with bare poles. To-day your garden is planted with blooming flowers, which are loading the air with their perfume; rejoice not too much in their sweetness, for within a short time nothing may remain, the spoiler may tear them up by the roots, and your garden may become a desolation. There is nothing bright, beautiful, fair, lovely, or desirable beneath the sun which may not be speedily withered. Even as a vision are all these things; they are, and lo, they are not. They flash upon us as the meteor which blazes in the midnight sky, and then leaves the darkness to be blacker than before. “Boast not thyself of to-morrow,” yea, boast not thyself of to-day, lest haply on that morrow, or even in this very day, thou mayest have to cry with Jeremiah, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment.”

This expression may be, without any straining, very readily applied to many matters, and to three especially. First, to the sudden spoiling of all human righteousness; secondly, to the sudden spoiling of all earthly comfort; and, thirdly, and this is by no means an unusual thing, to the sudden spoiling of human life itself. May the Holy Spirit bless our meditations upon the instability of all earth-born things, that so we may despise the things which are seen and temporal, and follow after the things unseen and eternal.

A sudden spoiling happens to human righteousness. Beloved, when I put those two words together, “human righteousness,” I inwardly smile; it sounds like a comedy, or a satire, I scarce know which. “What is man that he should be clean? and he that is born of a woman that he should be righteous?” Mere human nature and righteousness are two things not easily joined together, and when they are united for a time they soon separate, for they agree no better than oil and water. There is a divine righteousness, wrought out by our dear Redeemer and imputed to all his believing people, which will remain:

“That glorious robe the same appears

When ruined nature sinks in years;

No age can change its glorious hue,

The robe of Christ is ever new.”

But the righteousness which comes of man is a dream-how suddenly doth it vanish from our view. Lighter than the gossamer’s web, more subtle than the mist, more fleeting than the wind, the very name of it is vanity.

Let us look at the history of human righteousness, and begin in the garden of Eden, and lament the fall. Human righteousness existed in the bowers of Paradise, and man was happy with his God. Adam was created sinless, his mind was upon an equal balance, and without tendency to evil. He was placed in a garden of delights, with but one commandment to test him, and that a very simple one, costing but slight self-denial to obey. We do not know how long Adam was in the garden, but we know that man being in honour continueth not, and in a very short time he and our mother Eve were spoiled of all that they had. The serpent crept in and beguiled them; he who was a murderer from the beginning plundered them. How suddenly were their tents spoiled, and their curtains in a moment, for their eyes were opened, and they perceived that they had lost all. The righteousness which covered them much better than a vesture had been taken from them, so that they were utterly naked before the eyes of the living God. He is a cruel spoiler indeed who strips a man of every garment, but thus completely were our first parents robbed and despoiled: they found that they had lost the garden wherein they had lived in such content, lost peace, lost happiness, lost themselves, lost their posterity, lost all. Everything was taken from them except that which infinite mercy stepped in to give them in the form of a gracious promise concerning the restoring seed of the woman. Whenever we think of the Fall we ought to be humbled, and to be restrained from all idea of self-righteousness, for if Adam in his perfection could not maintain his righteousness, how can you and I, who are imperfect from the very birth, hope to do so? If the thieves broke in and stole our ancestor’s righteousness, when his tent was pitched amid the sunny glades of Eden, how much more will our curtains be despoiled in this land of the Ishmaelite and the Amalekite? If the old, wily serpent found a way into the unfallen hearts of our first parents, when they had no surroundings to mislead them, how vain is it for us to hope to overcome the evil one so as to attain to everlasting life by the works of the law.

A second instance of this very commonly occurs in the failure of the moralist’s resolutions. See yonder young people, tutored from their childhood in everything that is good: their character is excellent and admirable, but will it so abide? Will not the enemy despoil their tents? Often is it so. The young man starts in life with the conviction that he is not of the common herd of sinners, and will never descend to their level. He has heard of other youths who have fallen into temptation, and destroyed themselves by dissipation, but he feels certain that he shall do nothing of the kind. Like Hazael, he cries, “Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?” He fancies that his barque can weather all storms, and he plumes himself upon the idea that the record of his life will be very different from that of other men. How truly lovely at first sight he seems! How honest, generous, and true! Even looking upon him with the eyes of Jesus, we might love him, and only mourn that he lacks one thing. The righteousness which he wears is a merely human one, and it is altogether in his own keeping, but he believes that he shall hold it fast, and never let it go. His tent is so well pitched that no wind from the wilderness will ever overturn it. Have not these delusions been sadly dispelled in hundreds of instances? A fierce temptation arises, and the man’s resolutions are carried along thereby like thistle-down in the wind. The young man did not think that such a temptation could ever happen to him. He had been kept by his parents and friends like a flower in a conservatory, and he could not believe that the nights could be so bitterly frosty in the cold world outside; but now he has to feel the nipping influence of sin, and he withers speedily. Satan, discovering his weakness, takes him at a tender point, brings before him that lust to which he has the greatest tendency, sets before him that dainty delicacy of sin to which he has the sweetest tooth, and by-and-by the hopeful youth can no longer talk of his virtues nor boast of his purity, for he has fallen low. The ship Boastful has struck on a rock, and is going down. The self-confident young man now finds himself to be human; being human, to be liable to temptation; being tempted, to be ready to yield to sin. “I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction, and the curtains of the land of Midian did tremble,” for the cords of resolution are broken and the stakes of principle are loosed. Alas, poor human righteousness, thou art soon smitten on the forehead, and speedily rolled in the dust. How soon does the comeliness of human nature pass away in the hour of trial!

Many a young man and young woman, opening their eyes on a sudden after temptation, have had to cry, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment.” Ah, ye that think yourselves beyond all danger of falling into sin ye know not yourselves; ye understand not the plague of your own hearts, for if ye did ye would see that ye carry within your souls all manner of iniquity, which only waits for an opportunity to develop itself, and when it finds a fit occasion it will display its deadly nature, and then you will mourn that you did not seek a new heart and a right spirit at the hand of Christ.

My second text says, “And when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” And I would earnestly answer it for any of you who have gone through this experience. Do not try to re-establish that righteousness of yours which has been so thoroughly spoiled, but look for something better. Quit the tent for a mansion, flee from the curtains of self to the walls of salvation. Your own resolutions have failed you, therefore leave such a sandy foundation and build upon the rock of divine strength! Go and confess your sin with deep contrition; ask the Lord Jesus to wash you in his precious blood, and then desire truth in the inward parts, and ask that in the hidden part the Holy Spirit may make you to know wisdom. So shall it come to pass that you shall no longer build upon the sand, nor yet with wood and hay and stubble, but on the rock with gold and silver and precious stones.

Another liability of human righteousness is one which I must not call a calamity, seeing it is the commencement of the greatest blessing: I mean when the Spirit of God comes to deal with human righteousness, by way of illumination and conviction. Here we can speak of what we know experimentally. How beautiful our righteousness is, and how it flourishes like a comely flower till the Spirit of God blows upon it, and then it withers quite away, like the grass in the hot sirocco. The first lesson of the Holy Ghost to the heart is to lay bare its deceivableness, and to uncover before us its loathsomeness, where we thought that everything was true and acceptable. What a different character you gave yourself, dear friend, before the Spirit of God dealt with you, to what you were compelled to give afterwards. Truly, your beauty consumed away like a moth. You began to mourn over your holiest things, for you saw the sin which polluted them; and as for your transgressions, which you thought so little of, when the Spirit of God set them in a true light you found them to be hideous and horrible offences against the God of love. Aforetime you emblazoned your name in letters of gold, but when you learned the truth you chose a black inscription, and with a heavy hand you wrote out your own condemnation, feeling that you were bound to do so. Now, it is a great mercy when the Spirit of God brings home the truth to the heart and makes a man see the deceptiveness of outward appearances. I pray that it may happen to you all if it never has done so. May your tents be spoiled until you see yourselves to be utterly undone; for you are so by nature whether you see it or not.

I would ask all who are under conviction of sin to answer this question, “When thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” May you reply, “We know what we will do. We will flee away from self to Jesus. Our precious things are removed, and our choice treasure is taken from us; therefore do we take the Lord Jesus to be our all in all.” If such be your resolve, you are fulfilling the end and design of the ever blessed Spirit, who worketh in order to wean man from self and to hide pride from him. For this cause doth he plunge man into the ditch till his own clothes abhor him, for then he turns to Jesus and seeks for that clothing which the matchless righteousness of Christ Jesus alone can afford.

But there will come to all human righteousness one other time of spoiling if neither of those should happen which I have mentioned before. Remorse will come, and that very probably in the hour of death, if not before. Apart from the Holy Spirit, conscience often does its work in a very terrific fashion, and tears to pieces before a man’s eyes the curtains of righteousness which he had so laboriously woven. Have you never seen a sinner happy and contented, because self-deluded? But on a sudden he has found out that his falsehood and hypocrisy were known to God, and would be all exposed and punished. At such a time instead of turning to God, he has despaired and said, “I am lost, there is no hope for me,” and therefore he has plunged into deeper sin and become a worse man, while all the while, like the vulture at Prometheus’ liver, conscience has continued tearing away at his heart, eating into his very soul, and drinking the blood of joy out of his life, till he has been dried up by an anguish from which he could not escape. I have seen men die so; the consolations of the gospel have been sounded into a deaf ear, they have lifted up their hands as though they would thrust the minister away, when he talked of mercy they replied that there was none for them, and when he spoke of cleansing they declared that their sin was of more than scarlet hue, and never could be washed away. Oh, how suddenly are their tents spoiled, and their curtains in a moment, and when spoiled thus, what does a man do? What but give himself up to that everlasting despair, which has at last overtaken him. While any man is yet alive I would exhort him still to apply to Christ: though it were the last breath he breathed I would still hold up the Redeemer before his expiring gaze, but when remorse has fully set in this is seldom of any avail. They cry, “Too late, too late!” they continue to refuse their Saviour, and pass away naked, and poor, and miserable, to stand before God’s righteous bar to hear the sentence of their conscience confirmed for ever by the mouth of the Eternal Judge. In that dreadful day their overthrow will be terrible indeed. God save us from this.

I hope, dear friends, that all of us know what it is to have seen all our tents spoiled of all the precious things wherein our pride boasted itself, and that we have now become rich in the riches of the Lord Jesus, and secure in the cleft of the rock which was opened in his side. If we have so done we shall not regret, but greatly rejoice, that our tents were suddenly spoiled, and our curtains in a moment.

The words of our text are exceedingly applicable to the spoiling of all earthly comforts. Sudden destruction to all our earthly comforts is common to all sorts of men. It may happen to the best as well as to the worst. Did it not so occur to Job, who on a certain morning was amazed by messenger after messenger hastening to tell him that all his property was swept away? Last of all came one who told him that his entire family had been destroyed by tempest. Sudden sorrow happened also to rebellious Pharaoh as well as to pious Job, for at the dead of night he was aroused to bewail the firstborn of him that sat upon the throne, and heard throughout all the land of Egypt a chorus of lamentations on account of a similar calamity which had happened to every household. Neither the just nor the unjust can tell when tribulation will befall them. David returns from among the Philistines and he finds Ziklag burned with fire, and his wives and his children carried away captive; yet not to the righteous only are such trials, for Belshazzar feasts in his palace in Babylon, but that same night was Belshazzar slain. An arrow pierces the heart of wicked Ahab, but gracious Josiah fell in the same manner; with impartial foot doth calamity come to the door of all kinds of men. As darts the hawk upon its prey, so does affliction fall upon the unsuspecting sons of Adam. As the earthquake on a sudden overthrows a city, so does adversity shake the estate of mortals.

Sudden trial comes in various forms. Sometimes it is the loss of property, as in the instance of Lot when the kings came and took him captive and all that he had: then was he utterly spoiled. The same thing has happened in ordinary commerce, as in the case of Jehoshaphat when he made ships to go to Tarshish and they were broken at Eziongaber. His letters were opened one morning and the merchant, who thought himself rich as a prince, found that he had become a bankrupt. These are but common things in days of panic and convulsion. Frequently the calamity comes in the form of the loss of one dear to us. So came it to the Shunammite, whose child had been such a comfort to her, but it fell on a day that he went into the field unto the reapers, and he said, “My head, my head,” and very soon the little gift from heaven had left a childless mother to weep over his little lifeless form. So happened it to Jacob, who sent his darling son away with a kiss, but ere many hours had passed he saw his garment covered with blood, and exclaimed, “An evil beast hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.” You cannot be sure of child, or wife, or husband. The fondest lover may be torn from your side, and the dearest babe may be rent from your bosom. Here below nothing is certain but universal uncertainty. One way or another God knoweth how to bring the rod home to us, and to make us smart till we cry out, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment.”

Now, this might well be expected. Do we wonder when we are suddenly deprived of our earthly comforts? Are they not fleeting things? When they came to us did we receive a lease of them, or were we promised that they should last for ever? Jonah sat under his withered gourd wringing his hands and complaining of God, but if you and I had been there we might have said “What aileth thee, man? Art thou surprised that gourds wither?” “I murmur,” said he, “because I have lost the shade which screened me from the sun.” “But, man, is it not the nature of a gourd to die? It came up in a night, dost thou marvel that it perished in a night? A worm at the root of a gourd surely is no novelty. O prophet, be not angry with thy God, this is what thou shouldst look for from such a growth.” If our tents are spoiled, we should remember that they are tents, and not fortresses; curtains, and not bulwarks. The thief can readily enough enter and spoil the habitation which is made of such frail material. Do you wonder that your offspring die? Why so? Across your children’s brows there is written the word “mortal,” if you read aright. Did you expect a mortal mother to bring forth an immortal son? Did you, a dying father, expect to be the parent of a daughter who would never see death? Your love is astonished, but your reason is not; your affection counts it strange, but your understanding judges it to be according to the frequent course of nature. Your children came to you, and you received them into your home and heart, with the knowledge that they were mortal, and therefore you are not deceived. Bow, therefore, to the divine will and say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, and blessed be the name of the Lord.”

You lament that you have lost your riches. Are you surprised at that? Do you keep birds? Do you wonder when they fly away? What are riches but birds of golden feather? They take to themselves wings, we are told, and fly away. It is not the most marvellous thing in the world if your boy has a tame bird if he comes to you and says, “Father, my bird has taken wings and fled away.” “Dear child,” say you, “I always wondered that it did not do so before.” So may you say to the merchant who has lost his property in trading-the marvel is not that wealth departs but that it stays by any man, seeing it is the nature of winged things to fly away. Clouds dissolve, bubbles burst, snow-flakes melt, and even so do this world’s treasures waste away.

Moreover, our earthly comforts were never given to us to be held for ever by a covenant of salt. They are always loans, and never gifts. All that we possess here below is God’s property; he has only loaned it out to us, and what he lends he has a right to take back again. We hold our possessions and our friends, not upon freehold, but upon lease terminable at the Supreme Owner’s option; do you wonder when the holding ceases? Do you know the parable of the wise Jewish woman? When her husband, the Rabbi, had gone out to teach his disciples, certain neighbours in great sorrow brought home to her the corpses of her only children, two sweet boys, who had been drowned. She took them upstairs, and laid them upon the bed, and covered them with a sheet, and waited in her deep affliction till her husband came home, grieving most of all for the sorrow which would overwhelm him. She stood at the door and mournfully said, “My husband, dost thou know that a great tribulation has happened unto me? A friend had lent me a treasure, and, while I have had it, it has been a great joy to me, but this day he has taken it back again, and I know not what to do.” “My beloved,” said the Rabbi, “Speak not so. Can it be a sorrow to thee to return that which thou hast borrowed? O daughter of Abraham, thou canst not harbour dishonesty in thy soul. If the treasure hath been lent, be grateful to him who permitted thee the loan, and send it back with cheerfulness.” “Sayest thou so?” said she; “Come hither.” Then she turned back the coverlet, and he gazed upon the cold faces of his two children, and he said “Thou hast spoken wisely, O woman, for I understand that God hath lent these children unto me, and that I must not complain because he hath taken back his own.” See ye not how natural it is that loans should be returned to their lender in due season. Say not, “I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath,” as though thou wert the chief or the only sufferer, for in this thing there hath no trial happened unto you but such as is common to men.” Cry not in dismay, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment!” for when war is raging it is little surprising that tents should be spoiled. It is according to the nature of things that in a world which bringeth forth thorns and briars in all its furrows some of the sharp points should pierce thy flesh.

Once more, we live in a world that is full of thieves, and it is no wonder if our joys are stolen. Our Master has warned us that our habitations here below are not thief-proof; he forbids us, therefore, to lay up our treasure where thieves break through and steal. The mud-houses of the East are very soon entered by burglars; they break a hole wherever they please, and steal a man’s wealth while he sleeps, and this present life is of the same fashion. This world swarms with thieves such as false friends and deceivers, slanderers and cavillers, losses in business and crosses in our expectations, unkindness of enemies and fickleness of acquaintances, and especially sickness and death. We must not marvel, therefore, if some thief or other should take away the dear delight which makes our tent so happy.

Beloved, since these calamities may be expected, let us be prepared for them. “How?” say you. Why, by holding all earthly things loosely; by having them as though you had them not; by looking at them as fleeting, and never expecting them to abide with you. Love the creature in the measure in which the creature may be loved, and no more. Mortal things may only be loved in their proportion; never make them your gods, nor suffer your heart to live upon them or stay itself upon them, for if you do you are preparing sorrow for yourself, and “When thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” Thou wilt cry with Micah, “They have taken away my gods.” If you suffer your heart to be filled with earthly things while you have them, you will have your heart broken when they are taken away.

Let us take care to make good use of our comforts while we possess them. Since they hastily fly by us, let us catch them on the wing, and diligently employ them for God’s glory. Let us be careful to place our chief treasure in heaven, for, as old Swinnock says, “A worldling’s wealth lieth in the earth, therefore, like wares laid in low damp cellars, it corrupts and moulders; but the godly man’s treasure is in heaven, and, like commodities laid up in high rooms, it continues sound and safe.” Treasure in the skies is treasure indeed. Where moth and rust and thief can enter is no fit place for us to store our treasures in. Let us commit our all to the custody of God, who is our all in all. Such a blessed thing is faith in God that if the believer should lose everything he possesses here below he would have small cause for sorrow so long as he kept his faith. If a great landed proprietor in walking down the street were robbed of his handkerchief, he would not lie down in despair, nor even make a great noise over his loss. “Ah,” says he, “they could only steal a mere trifle, they could not rob me of my parks and farms, and yearly incomings.” Believers invest their true wealth in a bank which never breaks, and as for their earthly substance it is not theirs at all, but their Lord’s, and they desire only to employ it for his cause; so that if he takes it away they are bound to look upon themselves as no losers, but as in some measure released from responsibility, and they may thank their Lord for such relief. Be sure thou use this world as not abusing it, and fix all thy joy and love and hope and trust in the eternal God, and then, happen what may, thou wilt be safe. “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee.”

But let me solemnly remind you that in times when we meet with sudden calamity God is putting us to the test, and trying the love and faith of those who profess to be his people. “When thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” You thought you loved God: do you love him now? You said he was your Father, but that was when he kissed you; is he your Father now that he chastens you? The ungodly kick against God; they can only rejoice in him while he gives them sweet things, but his true children learn to kiss the rod. Can you believe in Jesus when distress is upon you, and when want assails you as an armed man? You talked of your faith in summer weather: have you faith now in the long, wintry nights? Can you trust the Lord when the fierce winds from the wilderness threaten to overturn your tent? Has the Holy Ghost given you the faith of God’s elect, which can bear a strain? That faith which cannot endure trial is no faith at all, and if the death of a child, or the loss of wealth, or being smitten down by disappointment or sickness shall make thee doubt thy God, what wilt thou do when thou comest to die? If in running with footmen thou art wearied, what wilt thou do when thou contendest with horses? If these minor trials overwhelm thee, what wilt thou do in the last dread day, when all things pass away from thy sight? This is a trying time for your heart, a testing time for your graces. If all things be right within us, when our tents are spoiled we shall live closer to God than ever, and thus we shall be gainers by our loss, because it has increased our spirituality and our peace. It would be a blessed thing to be like the planet Venus, of which it is certain that the earth can never come between her and the sun. The world often hides our God from us, and when our comforts are swept away there is all the less likelihood of its doing so. If our bereavements bring us into the clear and ever-abiding sunlight of the Lord’s own face, we may be thankful to lose that which aforetime caused the eclipse.

“Nearer, my God, to thee!

Nearer to thee!

What though it be a cross

That raiseth me,

This still my cry shall be,

Nearer to thee, Nearer to thee!”

Blessed is he who is resolved with Job, and by grace is enabled to abide by it, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” We should learn to give up everything that is dear to us in this present life, and find our comfort in the hopes of the next world; so that, like David when his darling child had been taken away, we may say, “I shall go to him: he shall not return to me.” Happy and blessed is the man who acteth thus. He shall not be cast down in the cloudy and dark day; “he shall not be afraid of evil tidings, his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.”

Oh, you worldlings, what will you do in the time of trouble? How will you comfort your hearts in the day of visitation? Most of you young people are full of fun and mirth, and I am glad you have happy times; but the holidays or youth last not for ever, your tents will be spoiled one of these days, as surely as you live, and what will you then do? All the joy which you can draw from this world’s wells will turn to brackish water ere long, and you will loathe it: what will you then do? Nothing will remain of all this momentary mirth when the heyday of your youth is over and the evil days come, and the days draw nigh when you shall say, I have no pleasure in them. Why, then, are you so taken up with fickle, fleeting joys? I beseech you seek substantial happiness. Ask for eternal blessings. Draw nigh to God by Jesus Christ and seek unfading bliss in his abiding love.

In the third place there may come a sudden spoiling of life itself. In a moment prostrated by disease and brought to death’s door, frail man may well cry out, “How suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment!” It is by no means unusual for men to die on a sudden. One does not wish to suggest an unhappy thought, but this is so salutary a consideration that it ought never to be absent from us,-we are but dust, and may be dissolved in an instant by death. We are continually surprised that one and another have suddenly been called away; yet it is more strange that so many remain.

“Our life contains a thousand springs,

And fails if one be gone,

Strange that a harp of thousand strings

Should keep in tune so long.”

In this large congregation death’s work is very manifest to one who stands upon this central tower of observation. During the last few days we, as a church and congregation, have lost several from our midst. I will not point out the seats which are to-day occupied by others, where old friends have sat for many years, but so it is, that some have gone quite suddenly from us, and their graves are scarcely filled in. Who will be the next? It frequently happens that those who are apparently very hale and strong men are among the first to fall. Our friends who are continual invalids remain with us, some of them many months, and even many years after we have sorrowfully given them up. Consumption keeps many for long months lingering slowly into everlasting life, while strong, hearty persons are in an instant taken away. It is therefore no new thing for men to die suddenly.

Not one man or woman here has a guarantee that he or she shall live till to-morrow. It is almost a misuse of language to talk about life insurance, for we cannot insure our lives; they must for ever remain uninsured as to their continuance here. If I could be a prophet this morning, and point out one and another and say, “That man will be dead before next Sunday,” or “That woman will not live a week,” I should feel I had a very painful duty to discharge; but is it not wise for us to reflect that it may happen to any one of us? There are no reasons by which we can prove that we shall escape the mighty hunter for another day. We are ready enough to think of this for others, for all men think all men mortal but themselves; but practical wisdom would lead us to suggest to ourselves that we are mortal, and that perhaps the death-bolt which has just left the bow of God may be aimed at our hearts. The question is, “When thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” When on a sudden the curtains of our tent shall rend in twain, and the tent pole shall be snapped, and the body shall lie a desolate ruin, what shall we then do? I will tell you what some of us know that we shall do. We know that when the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. As poor, guilty sinners we have fled to Christ for refuge, and he is ours, and we know that he will surely keep what we have committed to him until that day: therefore are we not afraid of all that the spoilers can do. We are not afraid of thee, O Death, for thou art the porter that shall open the gates of immortality. And you, ye worms, we are not afraid of you; for though ye devour this body, yet ye shall not destroy it, for in our flesh shall we see God. O Grave, we are not dismayed at thy gloom, for what art thou but a refining pot, out of which this poor earthy body shall arise set free from all corruption. Time, we fear not thy trials! Eternity, we dread not thy terrors. Our soul shall dwell at ease, come what may. Glory be to the blessed name of the Lord Jesus we shall rise because he has risen, we shall live because he lives, and reign because he reigns.

We are not afraid of the spoiler; but O, worldling, when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do? Rich man, your acres will be yours no longer; no park for you to roam over, no fine trees to boast of, nor ancestral halls in which to glorify yourselves. You will have nothing left you; no barns, no ripening harvests, no noble horses or fattened sheep: you must leave them all, and if these are your treasures, what will you do when God requires your soul of you? Then the largeness of the amount invested will only make it all the harder to die, and palaces and gardens will make the pang of separation yet more keen. You will find it a dreadful wrench to be torn away from that in which your heart so much delighted. “When thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” Thy money bags will not ease thy conscience: all the leases, and title deeds, and mortgages that thou canst heap upon thee will not warm thy dying heart into the life of hope. What wilt thou do? Alas, what wilt thou do?

And you, ye worldlings, who have no wealth, but live for present pleasure,-where then will be your wine cups and your dances? Where your draughts of mighty ale, your oaths and blasphemies? Where now your midnight revelry and wantonness? When ye shall appear before the Judge of all the earth, what will be left to you? When all these unhallowed pleasures are swept away, what remains? Yes, thou lover of pleasure, make merry and rejoice to-day, but “when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” With thy children about thee, rejoice in thy home and live at ease without God, but “when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?” Despise religion if thou wilt, and count it all a dream invented to make men sour and wretched, but when thou art dying, and thy pulse is faint and failing, what wilt thou do? What canst thou do? Opportunities over, and space for repentance nearly run out,-what wilt thou do? The thought mayhap will seize you then, “Too late, too late! you cannot enter now.” The voice which saith, “Behold the bridegroom cometh,” will startle you in the midnight of your ignorance just as you are about to die, and then you will wring your hands in everlasting despair, because you did not in due time seek him who can save you from the wrath to come. Awaken, I beseech you, your sluggish hearts, and look forward to your latter end. I pray that I may leave one or two solemn thoughts upon the minds of the careless; better still, I pray God the Holy Spirit to lead them now to believe on the Lord Jesus to the saving of their souls.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Psalm 71.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-73 (Part III.), 74, 196.

NEVERTHELESS. HEREAFTER

A Sermon

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Jesus saith saith unto him, Thou hast said (or said so), nevertheless, I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”-Matthew 26:64.

Our Lord, before his enemies, was silent in his own defence, but he faithfully warned and boldly avowed the truth. His was the silence of patience, not of indifference; of courage, not of cowardice. It is written that “before Pontius Pilate he witnessed a good confession,” and that statement may also be well applied to his utterances before Caiaphas, for there he was not silent when it came to confession of necessary truth. If you will read the chapter now open before us, you will notice that the high priest adjured him, saying, “Art thou the Christ, the Son of God?” to which he replied at once, “Thou hast said it.” He did not disown his Messiahship; he claimed to be the promised one, the messenger from heaven, Christ the anointed of the Most High. Neither did he for a moment disavow his personal deity: he acknowledged and confessed that he was the Son of God. How could he be silent when such a vital point as to his person was in question? He did not hold them in suspense, but openly declared his Godhead by saying,” I am;” for so are his words reported by one of the evangelists. He then proceeded to reveal the solemn fact that he would soon sit at the right hand of God, even the Father. In the words of our text he declared that those who were condemning him would see him glorified, and in due time would stand at his bar when he would come upon the clouds of heaven to judge the quick and dead according to our gospel. See, then, dear brethren, in a few words, the great truths of our holy religion clearly set forth by our Lord Jesus: he claimed to be the Christ of God, and the Son of God, and his brief statement by implication speaks of Jesus dead, buried, and risen, and now enthroned at the right hand of God in the power of the Father, and Jesus soon to come in his glorious second advent to judge the world in righteousness. Our Lord’s confession was very full, and happy is he who heartily embraces it.

I intend to dwell upon three catch-words around which there gathers a world of encouraging and solemn thought. The first is “nevertheless,” and the second is “hereafter;” what the third is you shall know hereafter, but not just now.

“Nevertheless,” said Christ, “hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” This, then, is the string from which we must draw forth music. “Nevertheless,” which being interpreted by being pulled in pieces, signifies that truth is never-the-less sure because of opposition. “Nevertheless,” not one atom the less is the truth certain to prevail, for all that you say or do against it. Jesus will surely sit at the right hand of power, and come in due season upon the clouds of heaven. Let us dwell for a little time upon this important fact, that truth is none the less certain because of the opposition of men and devils.

Observe, first, that the Saviour’s condition when he made use of that “nevertheless” was no proof that he would not rise to power. There he stood, a poor, defenceless, emaciated man, newly led from the night-watch in the garden and its bloody sweat. He was a spectacle of meek and lowly suffering, led by his captors like a lamb to the slaughter, with none to speak a word on his behalf. He was surrounded by those who hated him, and he was forsaken by his friends. Scribes, Pharisees, priests, were all thirsting for his heart’s blood. A lamb in the midst of wolves is but a faint picture of Christ standing there before the Sanhedrim in patient silence. And yet, though his present condition seemed to contradict it, he who was the faithful and true witness spake truly when he testified, “Nevertheless, hereafter ye shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven. Despite my present shame and suffering, so it shall be.”

He gives himself that lowly, humble title of Son of man, as best indicating himself in his condition at that time. “Hereafter ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” The humiliation of Christ did not in the least endanger his after glory. His sufferings, his shame, his death, did not render it any the less certain that he would climb to his throne. Nor did the cavillings of his opposers keep him for one instant from his place of honour. I wish you to remember this, for there is a great principle in it. There are many poor weakminded people who cannot take sides with a persecuted truth, nor accept anything but the most popular and fashionable form of religion. They dare not be with truth when men spit in its face, and buffet it, and pour contempt upon it; but it will be victorious none the less, although cowards desert it and falsehearted men oppose it. If it stand alone at the bar of the world, a culprit to be condemned,-if it receive nothing but a universal hiss of human execration,-yet, if it be the truth, it may be condemned, but it will be justified; it may be buried, but it will rise; it may be rejected, but it will be glorified, even as it has happened to the Christ of God. Who would be ashamed of truth at any time when he knows the preciousness of it? Who will tremble because of present opposition when he foresees what will yet come of it? What a sublime spectacle-the man of sorrows standing before his cruel judges in all manner of weakness and poverty and contempt, at the same time heir of all things, and appointed, nevertheless, to sit at the right hand of power and to come in the clouds of heaven.

Nor may we think only of his condition as a despised and rejected man; for he was, on his trial, charged with grievous wrong, and about to be condemned by the ecclesiastical authorities. The scribes learned in the law declared that he blasphemed: and the priests, familiar with the ordinances of God, exclaimed, “Away with him; it is not meet that he should live.” The high priest himself gave judgment that it was expedient for him to be put to death. It is a very serious thing, is it not, when all the ecclesiastical authorities are against you,-when they are unanimous in your condemnation? Yes, verily, and it may cause great searching of heart; for no peaceable man desires to be opposed to constituted authority, but would sooner have the good word of those who sit in Moses’ seat. But this was not the last time in which the established ecclesiastical authorities were wrong, grievously wrong. They were condemning the innocent, and blaspheming the Lord from heaven. Nor, I say, was this the last time in which the mitre and the gown have been upon the side of cruel wrong: yet this did not un-Christ our Saviour or rob him of his deity or his throne. On the same principle human history brings before us abundance of instances in which, nevertheless, though scribes, priests, bishops, pontiffs, and popes condemned the truth, it was just as sure, and became as triumphant, as it had a right to do. There stands the one lone man, and there are all the great ones around him-men of authority and reputation, sanctity and pomp-and they unanimously deny that he can ever sit at the right hand of God: “But, nevertheless,” saith he, “hereafter ye shall see the Son of man at the right hand of power.” He spoke the truth: his declaration has been most gloriously fulfilled hitherto. Even thus over the neck of clergy, priests, pontiffs, popes, his triumphant chariot of salvation shall still roll, and the truth-the simple truth of his glorious gospel-shall, despite them all, win the day, and reign over the sons of men.

Nor is this all. Our Lord at that time was surrounded by those who were in possession of earthly power. The priests had the ear of Pilate, and Pilate had the Roman legions at his back. Who could resist such a combination of force? Craft and authority form a dreadful league. One disciple drew a sword, but just at the time when our Lord stood before the Sanhedrim that one chivalrous warrior had denied him; so that all the physical force was on the other side. As a man he was helpless when he stood bound before the eouncil. I am not speaking now of that almighty power which faith knows to have dwelt in him; but as to human power, he was weakness at its weakest. His cause seemed at the lowest ebb. He had none to stand up in his defence-nay, none to speak a word on his behalf; for, “Who shall declare his generation?” And yet, for all that, and even because of it, he did rise to sit at the right hand of power, and he shall come in the clouds of heaven. So if it ever comes to pass, my brother, that thou shouldst be the lone advocate of a forgotten truth,-if thy Master should ever put thee in all thy weakness and infirmity in the midst of the mighty and the strong, do not thou fear or tremble; for the possession of power is but a trifle compared with the possession of truth, and he that has the right may safely defy the might of the world. He shall win and conquer, let the princes and powers that be take to themselves what force and craft they choose. Jesus, nevertheless, wins, though the power is all against him, and so shall the truth which he represents, for it wears about it a hidden power which baffles all opponents.

Nor was it merely all the power, there was a great deal of furious rage against him. That Caiaphas, how he spoke to him! “I adjure thee,” saith he, “by God.” And after he has spoken he rends his garments in indignation, his anger burns like fire; but the Christ is very quiet, the Lamb of God is still, and looking his adversary in the face, he says, “Nevertheless, hereafter thou shalt see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” He was strong, and therefore calm; confident, and therefore peaceful; fully assured, and therefore patient. He could wait, for he believed; and his prophecy was true, notwithstanding the high priest’s rage. So if we meet with any man at any time who gnashes his teeth upon us, who foams in passion, who dips his pen into the bitterest gall to write down our holy faith, who is indefatigable in his violent efforts against the Christ of God,-what mattereth it? “Nevertheless, ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power.” “Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion,” said Jehovah; and he declared the decree though the heathen raged and the people imagined a vain thing. Well may he smile at rage who is so sure of victory.

Yes, but it was not one person that raged merely. The people of Jerusalem, and the multitudes that had come up to the passover, bribed and egged on by the priests and the Pharisees, were all hot after our Saviour’s death, clamouring, “Crucify him, crucify him;” and yet there he stood, and as he heard their tumult, and anticipated its growing demand for his blood, he lost not his confidence, but he calmly said, “Nevertheless, hereafter, shall ye see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power.” Behold his perfect inward peace, and see how he manifests it by a bold confession in the very teeth of all his adversaries. “Ye may be as many as the waves of the sea; and ye may foam and rage like the ocean in a storm, but the purpose and the decree of God will, nevertheless, be fulfilled; ye cannot let or hinder it one whit. Ye, to your everlasting confusion, shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power.”

Beloved, you know that after he had said this our Lord was taken before Herod and Pilate, and at last was put to death: and he knew all this, foreseeing it most clearly, and yet it did not make him hesitate. He knew that he would be crucified, and that his enemies would boast that there was an end of him and of his kingdom. He knew that his disciples would hide themselves in holes and corners, and that nobody would dare to say a word concerning the man of Nazareth: he foreknew that the name of the Nazarene would be bandied about amid general opprobrium, and Jerusalem would say, “That cause is crushed out: that egg of mischief has been broken;” but he, foreseeing all that, and more, declared, “Nevertheless, hereafter ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” I cannot help harping upon the text-I hope I shall not weary you with it, for to me it is music. I do not like running over the word “nevertheless” too quickly, I like to draw it out and repeat it as “never-the-less.” No, not one jot the less will his victory come. Not in the least degree was his royal power endangered or his sure triumph imperilled. Not even by his death and the consequent scattering of his disciples was the least hazard occasioned; but, indeed, all these things wrought together for the accomplishment of the divine purpose concerning him, and the lower he stooped the more sure he was to rise ultimately to his glory.

And now, beloved, it is even so. The man Christ Jesus was despised and rejected of men, but at this moment he sits at the right hand of power: all power is given to him in-heaven and in earth, and therefore does he bid us proclaim his gospel. There is not an angel but does his bidding; providence is arranged by his will, for “the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” Atoning work is done, and, therefore, he sits. His work is well done, and, therefore, he sits on the right hand of God, in the place of honour and dignity. Before long he will come. We cannot tell when: he may come to-night, or he may tarry many a weary year: but he will surely come in person, for did not the angels say to the men of Galilee, as they stood gazing into heaven, “This same Jesus shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven”? He shall come with blast of trumpet and with thousands of angelic beings, all doing him honour. He shall come with flaming fire to visit the trembling earth. He shall come with all his Father’s glories on, and kings and princes shall stand before him, and he shall reign amongst his ancients gloriously. The tumults of the people, and the plotting of their rulers, shall be remembered in that day, but it shall be to their own eternal shame: his throne shall be none the less resplendent.

I beg you to learn the spiritual lesson which comes out of this. I have already indicated it, and it is this-never be afraid to stand by a losing cause. Never hesitate to stand alone when the truth is to be confessed. Never be overawed by sacerdotalism, or daunted by rage, or swayed by multitudes. Unpopular truth is, nevertheless, eternal, and that doctrine which is scouted and cast out as evil to-day shall bring immortal honour to the man who dares to stand by its side and share its humiliation. Oh, for the love of the Christ who thus threw a “nevertheless” at the feet of his foes, follow him whithersoever he goeth. Through flood or flame, in loneliness, in shame, in obloquy, in reproach, follow him! If it be without the camp, follow him! If every step shall cost you abuse and scorn, follow still; yea, to prison and to death still follow him, for as surely as he sitteth at the right hand of power so shall those who love him and have been faithful to his truth sit down upon his throne with him. His overcoming and enthronement are the pledges of the victory both of the truth and of those who courageously espouse it.

Thus have we sounded our first great bell-“nevertheless.” Let its music ring through the place and charm each opened ear.

The second bell is “hereafter.” “Nevertheless, hereafter.” I like the sound of those two bells together: let us ring them again. “Nevertheless, hereafter.” The hereafter seems in brief to say to me that the main glory of Christ lies in the future. Not to-day, perhaps, nor to-morrow will the issue be seen! Have patience! Wait a while. “Your strength is to sit still.” God has great leisure, for he is the Eternal. Let us partake in his restfulness while we sing, “Nevertheless, hereafter.” O for the Holy Spirit’s power at this moment; for it is written, “he will show you things to come.”

It is one great reason why the unregenerate sons of men cannot see any glory in the kingdom of Christ because to them it is such a future thing. Its hopes look into eternity: its great rewards are beyond this present time and state, and the most of mortal eyes cannot see so far. Unregenerate men are like Passion in John Bunyan’s parable: they will have all their good things now, and so they have their toys and break them, and they are gone, and then their hereafter is a dreary outlook of regret and woe. Men of faith know better; and like Patience in the same parable, they choose to have their best things last, for that which comes last, lasts on for ever. He whose turn comes last has none to follow him, and his good things shall never be taken away from him. The poor, purblind world cannot see beyond its own nose, and so it must have its joys and riches at once. To them speedy victory is the main thing, and the truth is nothing. Is the cause triumphant to-day? Off with your caps, and throw them up, and cry “Hurrah!” no matter that it is the cause of a lie. Do the multitudes incline that way? Then, sir, if you be worldly-wise, run with them. Pull off the palm branches, strew the roads, and shout “Hosanna to the hero of the hour!” though he be a despot or a deceiver. But not so-not so with those who are taught of God. They take eternity into their estimate, and they are contented to go with the despised and rejected of men for the present, because they recollect the hereafter. They can swim against the flood, for they know whither the course of this world is tending. O blind world, if thou wert wise, thou wouldst amend thy line of action, and begin to think of the hereafter too; for, brethren, the hereafter will soon be here. What a short time it is since Adam walked in the garden of Eden: compared with the ages of the rocks, compared with the history of the stars, compared with the life of God, it is as the winking of an eye, or as a flash of lightning. One has but to grow a little older, and years become shorter, and time appears to travel at a much faster rate than before, so that a year rushes by you like a meteor across the midnight heavens. When we are older still, and look down from the serene abodes above, I suppose that centuries and ages will be as moments to us; for to the Lord they are as nothing. Suppose the coming of the Lord should be put off for ten thousand years-it is but supposition-but if it were, ten thousand years will soon be gone, and when the august spectacle of Christ coming on the clouds of heaven shall really be seen, the delay will be as though but an hour had intervened. The space between now and then, or rather the space between what is “now” at this time, and what will be “now” at the last-how short a span it is! Men will look back from the eternal world and say, “How could we have thought so much of the fleeting life we have lived on earth, when it was to be followed by eternity? What fools we were to make such count of momentary, transient pleasures, when now the things which are not seen, and are eternal, have come upon us, and we are unprepared for them!” Christ will soon come, and at the longest, when he cometh, the interval between to-day and then will seem to be just nothing at all; so that “hereafter” is not as the sound of far-off cannon, nor as the boom of distant thunder, but it is the rolling of rushing wheels hastening to overtake us.

“Hereafter!” “Hereafter!” Oh, when that hereafter comes, how overwhelming it will be to Jesus’ foes! Now where is Caiaphas? Will he now adjure the Lord to speak? Now, ye priests, lift up your haughty heads! Utter a sentence against him now! There sits, your victim upon the clouds of heaven. Say now that he blasphemes, and hold up your rent rags, and condemn him again. But where is Caiaphas? He hides his guilty head: he is utterly confounded, and begs the mountains to fall upon him. And, oh, ye men of the Sanhedrim, who sat at midnight and glared on your innocent victim, with your cold, cruel eyes, and afterwards gloated over the death of your martyred Prince, where are ye now-now that he has come with all his Father’s power to judge you? They are asking the hills to open their caverns and conceal them: the rocks deny them shelter. And where, on that day, will you be; you who deny his deity, who profane his Sabbath, who slander his people, and denounce his gospel-oh, where will you be in that tremendous day, which as surely comes as comes to-morrow’s rising sun? Oh, sirs, consider this word-“Hereafter!” I would fain whisper it in the ear of the sinner, fascinated by his pleasures. Come near and let me do so-hereafter! I would make it the alarum of the bed-head of the sleeping transgressor, who is dreaming of peace and safety, while he is slumbering himself into hell. Hereafter! Hereafter! Oh, yes, ye may suck the sweet, and eat the fat, and drink as ye will; but hereafter! hereafter! What will ye do hereafter when that which is sweet in the mouth shall be as gall in the belly, and when the pleasures of to-day shall be a mixture of misery for eternity? Hereafter! Oh, hereafter! Now, O Spirit divine, be pleased to open careless ears, that they may listen to this prophetic sound.

To the Lord’s own people there is no sound more sweet than that of “hereafter.” “Hereafter ye shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven.” Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, Redeemer, Saviour! Welcome in every character in which thou comest. What acclamations and congratulations will go up from the countless myriads of his redeemed, when first the ensigns of the Son of man shall be seen in the heavens! On some one of earth’s mornings, when the children of men shall be “marrying and giving in marriage,” while saints shall be looking for his appearing, they shall first of all perceive that he is actually coming. Long desired, and come at last. Then the trumpet shall be heard, waxing exceeding loud and long, ringing out a sweeter note to the true Israel than ever trumpet heard on the morn of Jubilee. What delight! What lifting up of gladsome eyes! What floods of bliss! Oppression is over, the idols are broken, the reign of sin is ended, darkness shall no more cover the nations. He cometh, he cometh: glory be to his name!

“Bring forth the royal diadem.

And crown him Lord of all.”

O blessed day of acclamations! how shall heaven’s vault be rent with them when his saints shall see for themselves what was reserved for him and for them in the “hereafter.” “Ye shall see the Son of man at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”

That word “hereafter,” my brothers and sisters, is, at this moment, our grandest solace, and I wish to bring it before you in that light. Have you been misunderstood, misrepresented, slandered because of fidelity to the right and to the true? Do not trouble yourself. Vindicate not your own cause. Refer it to the King’s Bench above, and say, “Hereafter, hereafter.” Have you been accused of being mad, fanatical, and I know not what besides, because to you party is nothing, and ecclesiastical pride nothing, and the stamp of popular opinion nothing; because you are determined to follow the steps of your Master, and believe the true and do the right? Then be in no hurry; the sure hereafter will settle the debate. Or are you very poor, and very sick, and very sad? But are you Christ’s own? Do you trust him? Do you live in fellowship with him? Then the hope of the hereafter may well take the sting out of the present. It is not for long that you shall suffer; the glory will soon be revealed in you and around you. There are streets of gold symbolic of your future wealth, and there are harps celestial emblematical of your eternal joy. You shall have a white robe soon, and the dusty garments of toil shall be laid aside for ever. You shall have a far more exceeding and an eternal weight of glory; and therefore the light affliction which is but for a moment may well be endured with patience. Have you laboured in vain? Have you tried to bring souls to Christ, and had no recompense? Fret not, but remember the hereafter. Many a labourer, unsuccessful to the eye of man, will receive a “Well done, good and faithful servant” from his Master in that day. Set little store by anything you have, and wish but lightly for anything that you have not. Let the present be to you, as it really is, a dream, an empty show, and project your soul into the hereafter, which is solid and enduring; for, oh! what music there is in it!-what delight to a true child of God! “Nevertheless, hereafter.”

I feel half inclined to have done, and to send you out of the place, singing all the way, “Nevertheless, hereafter.” The people outside might not understand you, but it would be a perfectly justifiable enthusiasm of delight.

Now, thirdly. Where am I to look for my third bell? Where is the third word I spoke of? In truth, I cannot find it in the version which we commonly use, and there is no third word in the original, and yet the word I am thinking of is there. The truth is that the second word, which has been rendered by “hereafter,” bears another meaning; I will give you what the Greek critics say, as nearly as can be, the meaning of the word is, “Henceforward.” “Henceforward ye shall see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” “Henceforward.” That is another word, and the teaching gathered out of it is this: even in the present there are tokens of the victory of Christ. “But,” says one, “did Christ say to those priests that henceforward they should see him sitting at the right hand of power?” Yes, yes, that is what he meant. He meant, “You look at me and scorn me; but, sirs, you shall not be able to do this any longer, for henceforward you shall see for yourselves that I am not what I appear to be, but that I sit at the right hand of power. Henceforward, and as long as you live, you shall know that galling truth.” And did that come true? Yes, it came true that night; for when the Saviour died there came a messenger unto the members of the Sanhedrim and others, and told them that the veil of the temple was rent in twain. In that moment, when the man of Nazareth died, that splendid piece of tapestry seemed to tear itself asunder from end to end as if in horror at the death of its Lord. The members of that council, when they met each other in the street and spoke of the news, must have been dumb in sheer astonishment; but while they looked upon each other the earth they stood upon reeled and reeled again, and they could scarcely keep their feet. This was not the first wonder which had that day startled them, for the sun had been beclouded in unnatural darkness. At midday the sun had ceased to shine, and now the earth ceases to be stable. Lo, also, in the darkness of the evening, certain members of this council saw the sheeted dead, newly arisen from their sepulchres, walking through the streets; for the rocks rent, the earth shook, and the graves opened, and the dead came forth and appeared unto many. Thus early they began to know that the man of Nazareth was at the right hand of power.

Early on the third morning, when they were met together, there came a messenger in hot haste, who said, “The stone is rolled away from the door of the sepulchre. Remember that ye placed a watch, and that ye set your seal upon the stone. But early this morning the soldiers say that he came forth. He rose, that dreaded One whom we put to death, and at the sight of him the keepers did quake and became as dead men.” Now, these men-these members of the Sanhedrim-believed that fact; and we have clear evidence that they did so, for they bribed the soldiers, and said, “Say ye, his disciples came and stole away his body while we slept.” Then did the word also continue to be fulfilled, and they plainly saw that Jesus whom they had condemned was at the right hand of power. A few weeks passed over their heads, and, lo, there was a noise in the city, and an extraordinary excitement. Peter had been preaching and three thousand persons in one day had been baptized into the name which they dreaded so much; and they were told, and they heard it on the best of evidence, that there had been a wonderful manifestation of the Holy Spirit, such as was spoken of in the book of the prophet Joel. Then they must have looked one another in the face, and stroked their beards, and bitten their lips, and said one to another, “Did he not say that we should see him at the right hand of power? “They had often to remember that word, and again and again to see its truth, for when Peter and John were brought before them, it was proven that they had restored a lame man, and these two unlearned and ignorant men told them that it was through the name of Jesus that the lame were made to leap and walk. Day after day they were continuously obliged, against their will, to see, in the spread of the religion of the man whom they had put to death, that his name had power about it such as they could not possibly gainsay or resist. Lo, one of their number, Paul, had been converted, and was preaching the faith which he had endeavoured to destroy. They must have been much amazed and chagrined, as in this also they discerned that the Son of man was at the right hand of power.

Yes, say you, but did they see him coming in the clouds of heaven? I answer, yes. Henceforth they saw that also, for they began to have upon their minds forebodings, and dark thoughts. The Jewish nation was in an ill state, the people were getting disquieted, imposters were rising, and the leading men of the nation trembled as to what the Romans would do. At last there came an outbreak, and the imperial power was defied, and then such of them as still survived began to realize the words of Christ. When they saw the comet in the sky, and the drawn sword hanging over Jerusalem, when they saw the city compassed about with armies, when they marked the legions dig the trenches, and throw up the earthworks and surround the devoted city, while all around was fire and famine; when from every tower upon the walls they could see one of their own countrymen nailed to a cross, for the Romans put the Jews to death by crucifixion by hundreds, and even by thousands,-then must they have begun to see the coming of the Son of man. And when, at last, the city was destroyed and a firebrand was hurled even into the holy place, and the Jews were banished and sold for slaves till they would not fetch the price of a pair of shoes, so many were they and so greatly despised,-then they saw the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven to take vengeance on his adversaries.

Read the text as meaning, “Henceforward, ye shall see the Son of man at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” It is not the full meaning of the passage, but it is a part of that meaning, beyond all question.

Beloved, even at the present time we may see the tokens of the power of Christ among us. Only tokens, mark you; I do not want to take you off from the hereafter, but henceforward and even now there are tokens of the power of our Lord Jesus. Look at revivals. When they break out in the church how they stagger all the adversaries of Christ. They said-yes, they dared to say-that the gospel had lost, all its power-that, since the days of Whitefield and Wesley, there was no hope of the masses being stirred, yet when they see, even in this house, from Sabbath to Sabbath, vast crowds listening to the word, and when some few months ago no house could be built that was large enough to accommodate the thronging masses who sought to hear our American brethren, then were they smitten in the mouth, so that they could speak no more, for it was manifested that the Lord Christ still lives, and that, if his gospel be fully and simply preached, it will still draw all men to him, and souls will be saved, and that not a few.

And look ye, in the brave world outside, apart from religion, what influences there are abroad which are due to the power of the Christ of God. Would you have believed it twenty years ago that in America there should be no more a slave; that united Italy should be free of her despots? Could you have believed that the Pope would be puling about his being a prisoner in the Vatican, and that the power of antichrist would be shorn away? No, the wonders of history, even within the last few years, are enough to show us that Christ is at the right hand of power. Come what will in the future, mark ye this, my brethren, it will never be possible to uphold tyranny and oppression long, for the Lord Christ is to the front for the poor and needy of the earth. O despots, you may do what you will, and use your craft and policy, if you please, but all over this world the Lord Jesus Christ has lifted up a plummet and set up a righteous standard, and he will draw a straight line, and it will pass through everything that offends, that it may be cut off; and it will also pass over all that is good and lovely, and right, and just, and true, and these shall be established in his reign among men. I believe in the reign of Christ. Kings, sultans, czars-these are puppets all of them, and your parliaments and congresses are but vanity of vanity. God is great, and none but he. Jesus is the King in all the earth. He is the man, the King of men, the Lord of all. Glory be to his name. As the years progress we shall see it more and more, for he has had long patience, but he is beginning now to cut the work short in righteousness. He is baring his right arm for war and that which denies manhood’s just claims, that which treads upon the neck of the humanity which Christ has taken, that which stands against his throne and dominion, must be broken in pieces like a potter’s vessel, for the sceptre in his hand is a rod of iron, and he will use it mightily. The Christ, then, gives tokens still of his power. They are only tokens, but they are sure ones, even as the dawn does not deceive us, though it be not the noontide.

And oh, let me say, there be some of you present who are enemies of Christ, but you also must have perceived some tokens of his power. I have seen him shake the infidel by the gospel till he has said, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” He has taken him in the silence of the night and probed his conscience: in his gentleness and love, and pity he has led the man to think, and though he has not altogether yielded, yet he has felt that there is a solemn power about the Christ of God. Some of the worst of men have been forced to own that Christ has conquered them. Remember how Julian, as he died, said, “The Nazarene has overcome me: the Nazarene has overcome me.” May you not have to say that in the article of death, but oh that you may say it now. May his love overpower you, may his compassion win you, and you will see in your own salvation tokens of his power.

But I must have done, for my time has fled, but I desire to add that it will be a blessed thing if everyone here, becoming a believer in Jesus, shall henceforward see him at the right hand of power and coming in the clouds of heaven. Would to God we could live with that vision full in view, believing Jesus to be at the right hand of power, trusting him and resting in him. Because we know him to be the Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle, we ought never to have a doubt when we are doing what is right. We ought never to have a doubt when we are following Jesus, for he is more than a conqueror, and so shall his followers be. Let us go on courageously, trusting in him as a child trusts in his father, for he is mighty upon whom we repose our confidence.

Let us also keep before our mind’s eye the fact that he is coming. Be ye not as the virgins that fell asleep. Even now my ear seems to hear the midnight cry, “Behold, the bridegroom cometh!” Arise, ye virgins, sleep no longer, for the bridegroom is near. As for you, ye foolish virgins, God grant that there may yet be time enough left to awake even you, that you may yet have oil for your lamps before he comes. He comes we know not when, but he comes quickly. Be ye ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh. Be ye as men that watch for their Lord, and as servants that are ready to give in their account, because the master of the house is near.

In that spirit let us come to the Lord’s table, as often as we gather there, for he has said to us, “Do this until I come.” Outward ordinances will cease when he comes, for we shall need no memorial when the Lord himself will be among us. Let us here pledge him in the cup. That he is coming we do verily believe; that he is coming we do joyfully proclaim. Is it a subject of joy to you? If not-

“Ye sinners seek his face,

Whose wrath ye cannot bear;

Bow to the sceptre of his grace,

And find salvation there.”

God bless you for Christ’s sake.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Matt. 26:47-75.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-414, 746.