We learn from this text something concerning Ezekiel himself. He was certainly one of the greatest of the prophets; his visions remind us of those of John, both for their brightness, splendour, and number, and yet this eminent prophet was, nevertheless, styled “son of man.” He is continually called by that name. The title is used over and over again throughout the book of his prophecies-“Son of man”-to remind him that even the seer, the prophet, the inspired, the man who was indulged with vision upon vision, was still only a man. The best of men are men at the best. Those eyes that are strengthened to behold the cherubim, and to gaze upon the stupendous wheels of providence, are still only the eyes of a son of man. The title was used to teach him humility, and also to remind him of the condescension of God towards him, and to fill him with awe and wonder that he should be chosen from the rest of mankind, though no more than they, to see such wondrous sights, withheld from other eyes. To us this wears a very promising aspect, for if God can reveal himself to one “son of man,” why not to another? And if God can speak, as he did speak, so wonderfully through Ezekiel, one son of man, why not through you? why not through me? for we, too, are sons of men. We have no worthiness or fitness; neither does Ezekiel claim any. He is reminded of his descent: he is still one of the sons of men. Oh, be of good comfort, you who think that God can never use you-you who are poor in spirit, and wish to serve him, but deeply feel your own insignificance. Remember that God is able to do for you exceedingly abundantly above what you ask or even think. He can yet reveal his Son in you, and himself to you, and by you, after such methods as you have never dreamed of; and, possibly, the painful experience through which you are passing even now may be preparing you to stand upon yet loftier mounts, and to behold visions of God, which in happier days you shall tell out to the house of Israel, by which multitudes shall be blessed through you.

This is our present subject: we will speak upon the manifestations with which God favours certain of his servants. Then, secondly, we will dwell upon their responsibility while they are enjoying such manifestations: they are bound to behold with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and set their heart upon all that God shall show them. And then, thirdly, we will speak upon the object which God has in giving these manifestations to his more favoured people. It is that they may declare all that they see, that the whole house of Israel may, as it were, see by these favoured eyes, and hear by these chosen ears, and may set their hearts upon the word of the Lord because another has first done so.

First, I shall have a little to say upon the manifestations with which certain of God’s servants are favoured.

The Lord Jesus Christ does draw near in a very special manner to some of his people. He did to Ezekiel: for I take it that the man, mentioned in the chapter, whose appearance was like the appearance of brass, is none other than our divine Lord, who, though a man, yet exceeds all men in the brightness of his wondrous person. It was he, doubtless, who appeared to Ezekiel. Long before Christ came on earth to die he appeared to his servants in different ways. He sojourned with Abraham as a wayfarer, for such he found the patriarch to be. He wrestled with Jacob at the brook Jabbok, for Jacob was wrestling with a sore trial. It was he that revealed himself to Moses when the bush was burning; and it was he that stood by Joshua’s side as the man having a drawn sword in his hand. In divers ways and forms he proved that his delights were with the sons of men. Or ever the Word appeared in actual flesh and blood, he communed here and there with his chosen servants. He will show himself to any of you who seek him. He will unveil the beauties of his face to every eye that is ready to behold them. There is never a heart that loves him but he will manifest his love to that heart. But, at the same time, he does favour some of his servants who live near to him, and who are called by him to special service, with very remarkable manifestations of his light and glory.

These revelations are not incessant. I suppose that no man is always alike. John was in Patmos I know not how long; but he was “in the Spirit on the Lord’s-day” on one occasion, and he specially notes it. I do not suppose that Daniel or Ezekiel saw visions every night, or beheld the glories of God every day. Humanity is scarcely capable of the incessant strain of a perpetual manifestation of God. These things are, as we shall see, “like angels’ visits, few and far between.” There is a fellowship that can always be kept up, but the flood tide of manifestation-a noon-day revelation-will not last on continually. Ezekiel enjoyed a special manifestation, and he tells us when it was; for men do not see God’s face without recollecting it. He knew the date, and recorded it. “In the five and twentieth year of our captivity, in the beginning of the year, in the tenth day of the month, in the fourteenth year after that the city was smitten.” Days of heavenly fellowship are red letter days, to be remembered so long as memory holds her seat.

Yes, and it is noteworthy that the occasion of these manifestations was one of great distress. Five-and-twenty years of captivity must have been enough to wear down the spirits of God’s servants. Hence, he whose feet are as fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace, comes and manifests himself to his people, burning like brass in a furnace, giving them their times of comfort after twenty-five years of captivity. He says, too, that it was fourteen years after the city had been smitten, after it had been laid as a ruinous heap. Then God appeared. Oh, beloved, when you have been long sorrowing you may expect bright days. The coal-black darkness will brighten after all. Nights do not last for ever. Whenever you have much joy, be cautious; there is a sorrow on the road. But when you have much sadness, be hopeful; there is a joy on the way to you; be sure of that. Our blessed Lord reveals himself to his people more in the valleys, in the shades, in the deeps, than he does anywhere else. He has a way and an art of showing himself to his children at midnight, making the darkness light by his presence. Saints have seen Jesus oftener on the bed of pain than in robust health. There were more manifestations of Christ in Scotland among the heather and the hills in the days of bloody Claverhouse than there are now. There was more seen of Christ in France, I do believe, in the days of the Huguenots than ever is seen now. I fear me that our Master has come to be almost a stranger in the land in these days, compared with what he was once, when his people wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, afflicted, tormented; for then he was meeting them at every turn and corner. Let us hope that, if days are gloomy now, and we ourselves are in trouble, our Beloved will come and manifest himself to us as he does not to the world.

It appears, in this case, that the manifestation to Ezekiel was made when he was put into an elevated condition. He says, “In the vision of God he brought me into the land of Israel, and set me up upon a very high mountain.” God has ways of lifting his people right up, away, away, away from mortal joy or sorrow, care or wish, into the spiritual realm. And then, when the mind has been lifted above its ordinary level, and the faculties are brought up by some divine process into a receptive state, he reveals himself to us. These times come not always, but blessed are they to whom they come at all. When on the mount alone with God their spiritual nature asserts supremacy over the body, till they scarcely know whether they are in the flesh or not, then the Lord reveals himself to them.

When he had elevated him thus it appears that he conducted him to certain places, for he says, “For to the intent that I might shew them unto thee art thou brought hither.” God’s children are brought in experience to unusual places, on purpose that they may get clearer sights of the love and grace and mercy of God in Christ than they could obtain elsewhere. I have sometimes been puzzled to know why I underwent certain states of mind. I have found out the reason occasionally: perhaps as often I have not. I remember preaching to you one Sabbath-day from the text, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” and if ever a minister preached from that text fearing that it was true of himself I did. I was under an awful darkness all the while, and I could not tell why. But on the Monday evening there came to me one who, by his very appearance, I could see was not far from madness; his eyes were starting from his head, his face was full of terror-and when he was in the room with me alone, he said, “You have delivered me from self-destruction. I am a man that God has forsaken, and no one has ever spoken to my soul or my experience till last Sunday night.” By God’s great grace and infinite bounty we were able to pilot that brother into smoother waters, and I hope that he now lives to rejoice in God. I felt thankful to the last degree that I had been dragged through all my depression, because I was able to help him. Sometimes our experience is for the good of others, and sometimes it is for our own good. You cannot see the beauty of certain gems unless you place them on black velvet. When you have something black behind, then you see their lustre. So there are promises of God in which you never will discover their very brightest meaning except they are set against some dark soul-trouble. Much of faith’s education may be called black-letter learning. Very black the letters are, too, and very ugly-looking, but they must be spelt over. You cannot see the stars in the day-time; you must wait till the sun has gone down. Many promises of God you cannot see till you are in the dark; and when the soul is in gloom it may be that the Lord allows it to get there, that it may gaze upon the starry promises, and value every ray of light that streams from them. So you see, dear friends, God leads his people from one place to another of Christian experience, along hills and dales, ravines and precipices-all in order that, their minds being elevated, they may be prepared to see bright visions of himself, and know him better, love him better, and serve him better.

However, it is not outward circumstances that can affect the divine purpose, there must always be a movement of the divine Spirit. In the third verse you read, “He brought me there.” When you get home just look through the chapter, and see how this is repeated. “And he brought me to the inner court, and he brought me to the north gate, and he brought me” to this and to that. We never learn a truth inwardly until God brings us to it. We may hear a truth, we ought to be careful that we do not hear anything but the truth; but God must bring that truth home. No truth is known well until it is burnt into us as with a hot iron. Some doctrines we can never doubt. “Oh,” said one to me, failing to convince me of some new theories, “no one could get a new idea into your head except with a surgical operation.” That witness is true if the new idea be contrary to the old-fashioned gospel. The things I preach are part and parcel of myself. I am sure that they are true. “Are you infallible?” say you. Yes, when I declare what is in God’s word. When I declare God’s truth, I claim infallibility, not for myself, but for God’s word. “Let God be true and every man a liar.” It will not do to be saying, “These are our views and opinions.” Why, if the doctrines of grace are not true, I am a lost man; if they are not the very truth of God, I have nothing to live for: I have no joy in life, and I have no hope in death. May God bring you, dear friends, into a truth, and I will defy the devil to bring you out of it. If God brings you to it, if he writes it as with his own finger upon your soul, you will know it with solemn certainty. People may say, “Where is your logic? and how does this consist with the progressive development of human thought?” and all that. I reply, “You can go and fiddle to what tune you please; as for me, these things are part and parcel of myself, and I have made them my own.” I have gripped them, and they hold me fast: I have no choice about them: I do not choose to believe in free grace, I believe it because I cannot help it. When one was asked whether he held Calvinistic doctrine he answered, “No.” “Oh,” said the other, “I am glad to hear that.” “Ay,” said he, “but Calvinistic doctrine holds me.” There is a great difference between holding truth and truth holding you. You will not hold truth aright unless you can say of it, with all your heart, “The Lord brought me into it;” “He brought me towards the south; he brought me into the inner court; he brought me forth into the outer court; he brought me to the temple.” He did it all. “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord”; and there is no teaching like it, for he that is taught of God is taught infallibly.

Thus I have spoken upon the manifestations with which God favours certain of his people.

Now, secondly, let us notice the responsibility of these chosen men while they are thus favoured.

“The man said to me, Son of man, behold with thine eyes, and hear with thine ears, and set thine heart upon all that I shall show thee.” Did he not mean this-“Use all your senses, all your faculties, all your wits to understand divine truth”? When the Spirit of God favours you with light, mind that you see; and, when there is a sound of grace, mind that you hear. Be not one of those forgetful hearers who behold their likenesses in a glass, and then go their way and forget what manner of men they are. Oh, how much more we should understand of God’s word if we gave our mind to it. We tell our children to learn their lessons “by heart.” If we put the full meaning into that expression, that is the way to learn the things of God. Learn them all over; take them into yourself by every faculty you possess; strive as God shall help you by his Spirit to get at their innermost meaning by every power that is given you.

First, he says, “See with thine eyes.” What are the eyes for but to see with? He means this,-look, pry, search with your eyes. Do not let the truth flit before you and then say, “Yes, I have seen it.” No. Stop it. Hold it by meditation before the mind’s eye, and see with your eyes. Look, look, look into it. Remember what is said of the angels: “Which things the angels desire to look into”; not “to look at,” but “to look into.” Looking to Christ will save you, but it is looking into Christ that gives joy, peace, holiness, heaven. Look into the gospel: let your eyes be intent and steadfastly fixed upon every truth, especially at choice times when God favours you with the noontide light of his face. Then be doubly intent upon his word.

And then he puts it, “Hear with thine ears.” Well, a man cannot use his ears for anything else, can he? Ay, but hear with your ears. Listen with all your might. You are to spy out the meaning with the mind’s eye; but, besides that, try to catch the very tone in which the promise or precept has been uttered. Treasure up the exact words, for though cavillers call it folly to speak of verbal inspiration, I believe that we must have verbal inspiration or no inspiration. If any man shall say to you, “The sense of what your Father said is true, never mind his words;” you would reply, “Yes, but I would like to know precisely what he said, word for word.” I know that it is so in legal documents. It is not merely the sense that you look to, but every word must be right. God’s word, as it came from him, came in such perfection that, even to the syllables in which the sense was clothed, there was infallibility about it. When I get God’s word I would desire to hear it with my ears as well as see it with my eyes,-to see its sense and then to love the expressions in which that sense is conveyed to me. He cares little for the sense of the words who is not jealous over the words which convey the sense. Oh, brethren, whenever God does, by his word, open his heart to you, do not lose anything; do not lose a sound-a syllable.

The Lord demands something more. “Set thine heart upon all that I shall shew thee.” Oh, but that is the way to learn from God-by loving all that he says-feeling that, whatever God says, it is the thing you want to know. It is well when your whole heart comes to know the truth, and, when it knows it, encompasses it about with warm affections, so that it may be like a fly in amber, the word in the midst of your heart, encased there, enshrined there, never to be taken away from you. Set your whole heart on the word. Some people like to read so many chapters every day. I would not dissuade them from the practice, but I would rather lay my soul asoak in half a dozen verses all day than I would, as it were, rinse my hand in several chapters. Oh, to bathe in a text of Scripture, and to let it be sucked up into your very soul, till it saturates your heart! The man who has read many books is not always a learned man; but he is a strong man who has read three or four books over and over till he has mastered them. He knows something. He has a grasp of thoughts and expressions, and these will build up his life. Set your heart upon God’s word! It is the only way to know it thoroughly: let your whole nature be plunged into it as cloth into a dye.

The Lord bids us do this towards all that he shall show us. “Set thine heart upon all that I shall shew thee!” We are to be impartial in our study of the word, and to be universal in its reception. Brothers and sisters, do you pick over God’s Bible? I pray you, give up the habit. I have known professors who would not read certain chapters. Never read another till you have read that passage which now displeases you. Learn to love it; for, if there is a quarrel between you and a Scripture, it is you that is wrong, not the Scripture; and if there is any part of the word of which you can say “I differ from that,” the word will never alter: the party to alter is yourself. Try to follow the Lord fully, even though it should cause the revision of cherished sentiments, and even the alteration of your denominational connections. “Are we to be so particular in little things?” says one. Ay, it is in little things that loyalty comes out. A loving and obedient child obeys his father without saying, “This is a great thing, and this is a little thing.” “Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it.” The habit of trifling with little duties grows very soon into a seared conscience about larger matters. “Oh, but we need not be so particular,” says one. Indeed we must be. “Why are you so precise?” said one to a Puritan. “Sir,” said he, “I serve a very precise God.” “The Lord thy God is a jealous God,”-mind that; and he would have us to be a jealous people as to all his word, whether of doctrine, or of precept, or of promise. Oh, for grace to be willing and ready to see all that he would have us see, and to hear all that he would have us hear, and to receive into our heart all that he would have us receive.

Thus, I have spoken upon the manifestations which God gives to some of his servants, and the responsibility under which they are placed by them.

But now, thirdly, what is the practical design of all this? What is God’s reason for manifesting himself to his servants?

The object is this,-“Declare thou all that thou seest to the house of Israel.”

First, see it yourself, hear it yourself, give your heart to it yourself, and then declare it to the house of Israel. I have lately heard of a minister who said in the pulpit, “The doctrine of atonement,-I have heard a great deal about it, but I do not understand it.” He is going to take a holiday that he may solve some of his doubts. If he does not solve his doubts soon I should recommend him to extend that holiday for the term of his natural life. He who does not understand the doctrine of the atonement, should read “The shorter catechism,” and pray God to enlighten him. That is a book written for the young and ignorant, and it might be useful to many ministers. God grant us grace that we may know what we do know, and not attempt to declare to others anything but that which we have seen and heard and taken into our own hearts.

But that being done, we are to tell the truth to others, especially to those whom it concerns. He had seen the form and vision of a temple and a city; he was to speak of this to the house of Israel. Dear brother, you cannot tell who it may be to whom you are to speak, but this may be your guide:-speak about what you have seen and heard to those whom it concerns. Have you been in gloom of mind, and have you been comforted? The first time you meet with a person in that condition, tell out the comfort. Have you felt a great struggle of soul, and have you found rest? Speak of your conflict to a neighbour who is passing through a like struggle. Has God delivered you in the hour of sorrow? Tell that to the next sorrowing person you meet. There is such a thing as casting pearls before swine: that can easily be done by an imprudent talkativeness; but when you find people who are hungry, give them bread; when you find people that are thirsty, offer them water; when you find that they want a blessing from God, tell them of that which has been precious to your own soul.

Ay, but still this is not all your duty. God has shown us his precious word that we may tell it to the house of Israel. Now, the house of Israel were a stiff-necked people, and when Ezekiel went to them, they cast him aside, they would not listen. Yet, he was to go and teach the word to them. We must not say, “I will not speak of Christ to such a one; he would reject it.” Do it as a testimony against him, even if you know he will reject it. Go you, my brother, and sow your seed, and recollect that in the parable the sower did not only cast a handful on that fair spot of ground that was all ready for it, but he sowed among thorns and thistles, and he cast seeds even on the highway, from which the birds of the air soon removed it. “Give a portion to seven and also to eight.” “In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, this or that, or whether it shall be alike good.” Do thou go and tell what God tells thee. Remember what we read just now. “What I shall show you in secret that reveal ye in the light. What I have spoken to you in closets, that reveal ye upon the housetops.” “Are we all to be preachers, then?” Yes, all that have been taught of God are to teach. “Are we all to stand up in public?” says one. I did not say that; but somewhere or other-perhaps in the pew where you now sit, or on the steps as you go out, or by the roadside, or in the shop to-morrow morning, you can all put in a word edgeways for Jesus Christ. Drop a sentence or two for the honour of his dear name. “I do not know what to say,” says some one. Do not say it, then, brother. I would recommend you not to say anything if you do not know what to say; but if you have seen with your eyes and heard with your ears, and received into your heart, then you know what to say, and the first thing that comes to hand will be the best thing to say, for God, who knows the condition of people’s minds, knows how to fit you to their condition, and make your experience as a Christian to tally with the experience of the man who wants the aid of your light. Go, and the Lord be with you.

If there are any here who have never seen the Lord, if they have any desire after him, if they have any sense of sin, if they have any wish for the eternal light, let them remember that gracious word, “Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out,” and that precious invitation, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

May the Holy Spirit bring you to trust in Jesus at once, and to the name of the Lord be the praise for ever and ever. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Matthew 10:16-42.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-720, 814, 764.

ROADS CLEARED

A Sermon

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

(Preached on an evening when the Tabernacle was left to strangers.)

“Cast ye up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take up the stumblingblock out of the way of my people.”-Isaiah 57:14.

What is the way, the way of salvation, the way to heaven? Jesus Christ says, “I am the way.” He is the Son of God, and he left the glories of heaven and took upon himself our nature and lived here. In due time he took upon himself our sin, and made atonement for it, and now he has gone up into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God, even the Father, whence he will shortly come to judge the quick and the dead. The way to be delivered from sin, the way to heaven, is simply to trust in Jesus Christ. God has set him forth to be a propitiation for sin, and whosoever believes in Jesus Christ has his sin put away at once, whatever he may have done. Before Christ went to heaven he said to his disciples, “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.” This is the way of salvation which we preach, unaltered and unalterable, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” In other words, trust him and you are saved.

This is the entrance into the way of salvation, and this is the track of that way even to the end; trust in Christ “Are not good works needed?” says one. They always flow from faith in Christ. The man that would be saved from sin trusts Christ, and his nature is changed, and so he hates the sin that once he loved, and endeavours to honour the Christ who has saved him; but in the matter of our salvation, the ground and bottom of it is not our works, or tears, or prayers, but simple reliance upon the finished work of Jesus Christ. He is A and he is Z in the alphabet of grace. He is the beginning and he is the ending. “He that believeth in him hath everlasting life.” “He that believeth in him is not condemned,” and never shall be, for he has passed from death unto life. Such being the way, it is very simple. Straight as an arrow, is it not? And yet in this way there are stumbling blocks.

First, Let us show why this is.

The first reason is that the way of believing is such an uncommon way. Men do not understand the way of trusting. They want to see, to reason, to argue; but to trust in “God made flesh,” dead, buried, risen, gone into heaven, they do not like that. Man says, “I cannot trust.” How very difficult it would be for a cow, that has always lived by the day the short life that can be fed on grass, if it had to live by reason, as men do. It would be a new, strange way for the poor beast. And when man has to live by faith he is as awkward at it as a cow would be at reasoning. He is out of his element. What, am I to do nothing but trust the Saviour, and will he save me? Is that to be the top and bottom of it? It is so. “Then,” saith the man, “I cannot get at it; there are stumblingblocks in the road.”

Another reason is that men, when they are really seeking salvation, are often much troubled in mind. They are conscious that they have done wrong. Conscience pricks them. They feel that if God be just he must punish them for their wrong-doing. They are well aware that he knows the secrets of their hearts, and this alarms and distresses them, and when they are told that if they believe in Jesus Christ all manner of sin and of blasphemy shall be forgiven, they wonder how it can be? If we put it very plainly, and say, “However great your guilt, however black your sin, wash in the fountain filled with blood, and you shall be clean,”-it looks plain enough, but they cannot see it. A sense of sin blinds them, and they grope in the noonday, like blind men, for the wall; stumbling over this and that which has no existence except in their own fears. Conscience makes unbelievers of us all; and stumblingblocks are created by our trembling condition. I do not know how it is to be otherwise.

Besides this, men are often ignorant of the way of salvation. I am not speaking now as though I blamed them. I was brought up myself to attend the house of God regularly. I do not suppose that on any Sabbath day, except through illness, I was ever absent. Yet when I began to seek the Lord, I did not know the way of salvation. I knew the letter of it, but not the real meaning: how can a man know it till the Spirit of God reveals it to him? The sun itself may shine, but a man will never see till his eyes are open. Until Christ comes, who is the light of the world, men will roam in darkness. Why, in this London of ours, the bulk of people are still without the knowledge that salvation is entirely of grace; that it is an act of divine mercy that saves a man; that a man is never saved by his zeal, or his prayers, or his tears, or anything that he does, but is saved entirely by the mercy of God in Jesus Christ. The gospel is not believed or accepted in its real meaning, and so men meet with stumblingblocks.

Satan is always ready to prevent souls from finding peace in Christ. He will inject all sorts of thoughts into men’s minds: blasphemies infernal, thoughts incredible he will make to pass through the minds of men who are seeking Christ. He does not meddle with some people; he knows they are his, and will be his at last, but when a man once shakes himself up, and flees for his life, then the evil one raises all hell about his ears, and by his efforts many souls are made to stumble in a way which is smooth enough to the feet of faith.

Thus have I shown why there are so many stumblingblocks. Now, by God’s help, I am going to try to lift some of them out of the way.

The text says, “Take up the stumblingblocks.” Now for a dead lift at some of them.

Here is one of them. One man says, “I would fain believe in this Jesus Christ of whom you tell me, but if I were to come to God through Christ, would he receive me?” Ay, that he will. Here is a text: “Him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out.” In all the history of the human race there never has been found a man that came to Jesus Christ whom Christ rejected yet. If you will seek to God in Christ with all your heart, and he shuts the door of mercy in your face you may turn round and say, “I am the first man that Christ refused to help, and now his word is broken, for he said, ‘Him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out,’ and he has cast me out.” Oh, my friends, some will not come because they are afraid of being rejected; but there is no sense in that fear. Christ cannot, will not, reject a single soul that comes to him, so, out of the way with that stumblingblock!

“But,” says another, “I am a very peculiar person. I could very well believe that any man in the world who trusted Christ would be saved except myself; but I cannot think that he would save me, for I am so odd.” Ah, my friend, I am odd myself, and I had the same feeling that you have. I thought that I was a lot left out of the catalogue. I always had the notion that my brother and my sisters could readily enough find mercy, but I-I could not see how I could be forgiven. I knew more about myself than I should like to tell; and I knew this about myself-that there was a peculiar guilt about me, besides many odd ways that I could not well shake off. Since then I have been the minister of a church that numbers nearly six thousand souls, and that for many years, and I have found out that nearly all of them are about as odd as I am; and so I have cast off the idea of my being so singular. If you knew other people you would find that there are other strange people besides yourself; and if God saves so many strange people, why should he not save you? “I should be a wonder,” says one, “If I were saved.” Then he will save you, for he delights to do wonders. He will crowd heaven with curiosities of mercy. Heaven will be a museum of prodigies of sovereign grace; and if you are one of that kind, be encouraged. You are the very man that is certain to be received. Go boldly to the gate, it shall not be shut in your face. Look to Jesus and live.

But I hear another say, “Sir, I have such a horrible sense of sin; I cannot rest in my bed! I cannot think that I shall be saved.” Wait a bit there, my friend; wait a bit; let me speak to this person over here. What is your trouble? “My trouble is, sir, that I have no sense of sin. I know that I am a sinner, and a great sinner; but I do not think that I shall be saved, for I have no horrible thoughts.” Will you change with the other man? Will he change with you? I should not advise either of you to make any change; for, in the first place, despairing thoughts are not necessary to salvation; and, in the second place, so long as you know yourself a sinner, and are willing to confess it, such thoughts are untrue. Where is it written in Scripture that we are to despair in order to be saved? Is not the whole gospel “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved”? Where shall you find it recorded in God’s word that you are to be driven to remorse in order to find Christ? Repentance is quite another thing. To be sorry for sin, to hate sin, to wish to escape from it-this is a gospel blessing; but remorse-that threatening to destroy yourself, those tortures of mind-this is not desirable; and you may neither wish for it, if you have it not, nor yet despair because you have it, for salvation lies in Christ. Despairing one, look to the cross and live; and thou who dost not despair, look to the same cross and live; for there is salvation for every eye that looks to Jesus crucified.

I see another stumblingblock. A trembler cries, “I am afraid to come and trust Christ, because I do not know whether I am one of the elect.” Well, I cannot tell you. I have never been to heaven to search the roll. A young friend over yonder is starting in business. He opened his warehouse last Monday, and he is in hopes that he may prosper in the world. My dear young man, why did you open your shop? Why did you not sit down in idleness and moan, “I would open a shop, but I do not know whether I am predestinated to prosper.” If you do not try you will never prosper: that is quite certain. As to secret things we act upon the rule of common sense. When this service is over you will go home, will you not? But if you sit still and say, “I shall not go down the aisle because I do not know whether it is predestinated for me to get home,” you will not get home, and some will think that you are predestinated to be a fool. Any man who talks about predestination as if it could be an excuse for living in sin and refusing the Saviour is acting like a fool. If you trust Jesus Christ I will tell you then that you are God’s elect, to a certainty; for whosoever believes in Christ is called by the Spirit of God, and none are called in that way but those whom God has chosen from before the foundations of the world.

“Ah,” says another person, “I think I have committed the unpardonable sin.” Pray, sir, will you tell me what it is, because I have read a large number of books to make that discovery, and I have come to the conclusion that nobody knows what it is. Yet, though I am not sure as to what the crime may be, I can tell you whether you have committed it or not within a little. Do you desire to be saved? Do you long to be delivered from the power of sin? Then you have not committed the unpardonable sin, because it is a sin unto death, and after a man commits it he never has a living wish or desire after God from that moment. His conscience is seared as with a hot iron; and he learns to defy God, or to be utterly indifferent with regard to eternal things. But as long as there beats within your breast a desire after God, as long as you can heave a sigh of regret because of a wasted life, as long as one tear of penitence can bedew your eye, be not dismayed with the idea that you have committed the sin which is unto death, for you have done nothing of the kind. Let us lift that stumblingblock out of the way altogether.

“Oh, but,” says another person, “my stumblingblock is this: that the whole thing seems too good to be true-that I, by simply believing in Jesus Christ, shall be saved.” I confess that it does seem too good to be true, but it is not. It is good, infinitely good, that your sin should be effectually pardoned, in a moment, freely and without price; but good as it is, it is like our God. God in Christ Jesus is clearly capable of marvellous deeds of grace. Treat God like God, and remember that his ways are as much above your ways, and his thoughts as much above your thoughts, as the heavens are above the earth. All the sins of a whole life he can strike out, as a man cancels a debt in his account-book. With one single mark of red ink he can write “receipted” at the bottom of the tremendous bill, and it is all gone, and gone for ever. There is none like thee, O God! there is none like thee! As Creator, none can make heavens and earth like thine; as Redeemer, none that can fetch a soul up from the pit as thou hast done it; and none can hurl sin into the depths of the sea as thou didst hurl it from the cross. Only trust the Saviour, then, and you shall see his great salvation. This stumblingblock about its being too good need not remain a moment.

I will not stay upon any more of these things, but will just say that there are some stumblingblocks that I cannot remove; they must always stand there, I am afraid.

An objector says to me, “I would believe in Jesus; I have no fault to find with him, but then, look at his followers, many of them are hypocrites.” Yes, we do look at his professed followers, and the tears are in our eyes, for the worst enemies he has are they of his own household. Judas kissed him and sold him. Many are like Judas still. Look here, my friend: what have you to do with that? Suppose Judas does betray Christ, is Christ any the worse for that? You are not asked to trust in Judas, you are asked to trust in Christ. “Oh,” says one, “but they are all hypocrites.” No, no: that will not do. A man takes a bad sovereign-takes half-a-dozen of them in the course of his lifetime. Does he say that all sovereigns are bad? If there were no good ones the bad ones would never pass. The reason why it pays to make bad sovereigns is because good ones are so valuable; and that is why it pays certain people, as they think, to pass themselves off as Christians. If there were no real Christians, there would be no pretenders to that name. How then can you make the excuse that because there are some hypocrites you will refuse Christ himself? “Ah,” says one, “but I know a little about revival meetings and conversions. Don’t you know what a lot were converted, and what became of them?” I know what you are thinking about, but I heard a friend tell a good story in reference to that matter. He said that, notwithstanding that we have to strike off a discount from our converts of those that are not genuine, yet the revivals are worth having, for there is a real gain in them; for, said he, the objection is something like that of an Irishman who had found a sovereign which was short in weight, so that he could only get eighteen shillings for it. The next time he saw a sovereign lying on the ground he would not pick it up, for, he said, he had lost two shillings by the other. Everybody laughs at him as acting ridiculously. So it is with objectors to revivals and special services. Suppose you do have to strike off the two shillings’ worth, yet the eighteen shillings are clear gain; and why should you be the bad two shillings, my friend? Why should you? I dare say you know yourself better than I do, and probably you may be the bad two shillings; but I did not say that you were, and I do not wish that you may be. Why should you not be a real convert, a true gain to the church of God? Because there are imposters in the world, is that a reason why I am not to come to Christ? I made you smile just now. It was that you might laugh to scorn this foolery which is so much talked of. Am I to refuse to eat bread because there are bad bakers? Will you never drink milk again because some milk has been adulterated? will you never breathe the air you live in because some air is tainted? Oh, talk not so. That stumblingblock ought not to want moving. If it be any hindrance to you I cannot help it; there it must be.

“But,” says another, “here is my stumblingblock: if I were to believe in Christ, and become a Christian, I should have to alter my whole life.” Just so. I do not dispute that assertion. There would have to be a turning of everything upside down; but then he that sits upon the throne says, “Behold, I make all things new.” Perhaps, my friend, you would have to give up your trade, for there are some trades that cannot be followed by a Christian man; and, if yours is such, it is better to give it up than lose your soul. Or you might have to give up the tricks and dodges of your trade. You must give them up, then. If anything you do would keep you out of heaven, it is better that you should become poor than that you should prosper in business by doing wrong and ruining your soul. “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” That is putting an extreme case, for nobody gains the whole world. It is only a few fourpences or shillings that men get by cheating. What profit can there be in that, if the soul is to be lost for it?

“Oh, but,” says one, “I should have to run the gauntlet in my family if I became a Christian.” Run the gauntlet, my friend. It is better to go to heaven under all opposition than to go to hell with the flatteries of God’s enemies sounding in your ears. If you see a fish floating down the stream, you may know that it is a dead fish. Which way does a live fish go? Why, up-stream; and that is the way a man must go to heaven. “But I could not bear to be laughed at,” says one. Poor soul. I have had, upon the whole, about as fair a share of ridicule as anybody living, but I do not recollect that one of my bones ever ached a minute about it; and I think that if I can bear my share, which is tolerably large, you ought to be able to bear yours without being quite overcome by it. Which is the better thing do you think-to be sneered at for doing right or to be commended for doing wrong? Surely it is manly and honourable to say, “I will do the right and follow Christ, whoever may sneer.” What matters it? Dogs bark,-let them bark; but in God’s name let us not give our souls away to find sops for them. “But my own brethren would be against me.” Yes, Christ tells you that. He says, “He that loveth son or daughter more than me he is not worthy of me: a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.” You will conquer them yet by kindness and love; but I know there will be a wrench. In the higher classes a Christian man gets the cold shoulder, and among the lower orders our working men who talk of liberty are the biggest tyrants alive. The moment a man becomes a Christian they point him out in the workshop; they jest and jeer at him from morning to night; and then call themselves true-born Englishmen. They may swear as much as they like, and use filthy talk, till you can hardly go down a street without feeling sick at the language you hear; but if a fellow workman chooses to go to a place of worship, and behave himself decently, then he is to be the butt of the workshop. This ought to come to an end, and would if men were men. But, my dear friend, I hope you are not to be cowed and kept down by opposition. If they laugh you into hell they cannot laugh you out again: recollect that. And if to win a few poor smiles, and escape a few silly sneers, you sell Christ, how will you answer for it when you have to stand before him, and he sits upon the great white throne, at last? Look at the martyrs-how they died for Christ. Think of Bunyan when he is brought before the judge, and the judge says, “You! a tinker! to go about preaching! Hold your tongue, sir.” “I cannot hold my tongue,” says Bunyan. “Then I must send you back to prison unless you promise never to preach again.” “If you put me in prison till the moss grows on my eyelids I will preach again the first moment I get out, by the help of God.” There is some grit in that man. Oh, that is the man that God loves; the man who against the whole world will do the right, and stand true to his Master. That stumblingblock I would not move away if I could: it is good for us to meet with opposition. I think that even now I see the King upon his throne at the last great day; and as he sits there, surrounded by his courtiers, and the blazing seraphim and mailed cherubim in all their brightness, he rises from his throne and looks afar, and cries, “Who cometh there? That is a man who suffered for me. When I was despised and rejected of men, he was despised and rejected for my sake. Make way, angels; make way, cherubim; make way, seraphim; stand back, and let him come. He was with me in my shame, he shall be with me in my glory. Come and sit even here, at the right hand of God, with me, for thou didst dare to be despised for me; and now shalt thou be with me in all the splendour of my reign.” Oh, methinks we can leap over this stumblingblock, and be glad to think that it is there, for it will bring honour and glory and immortality at the last great day.

The last stumblingblock which I cannot move is this. A man will say, “But all this seems so new and strange to me. You want me to lead quite a new life. I do not comprehend it yet. I am to trust Christ whom I never saw!” Yes, that is where you are to begin. “And I am to see God whom I cannot see?” Yes, that is what you are to do. You are to live as in the daily consciousness of God’s presence; and that you will do if you begin trusting Christ. “But I cannot see what effect my trusting Christ would have upon me.” No, you cannot see it, but it will have a most wonderful effect upon you. You will not be the same man after you have trusted the Saviour; the Spirit of God who gives you faith will change your whole nature. You will be as though you had been born again. “I don’t see it,” says one. No, but you might see it in this way. Here is a man that has a servant, and that servant believes his master to be everything that is bad; consequently, he does all that he can to annoy him. The master tries to mend the servant. He has spoken to him, and chided him; but he goes on worse and worse. Now, suppose that I could go into the house and say, “My dear man, I beg you to believe in your master. He wishes you well. You have misunderstood him.” Suppose that I could induce the servant to believe in his master,-why, my friends, he would be an altered man altogether. Do you not see that the moment he believed in his master he would try to please him? If he said, “My master is a noble man. I love him.” From that moment the whole tenor of his life towards his master would be changed. Hence the great power of believing the Lord Jesus. The moment you trust him, you obey his commands, you imitate his example, and you give yourself up to his service.

Thus have I put before you, as best I can, the way of salvation. I thank you for coming on this special occasion. I may never see your faces again; and if I never do, this one thing is true-you have heard the way of salvation, even if you do not follow it. I shall be clear of the blood of every one of you in that great day of account when preacher and hearers will have to answer for how this Sunday night was spent. I have thought that, if I could have been clearly told the way of salvation when I was anxious about my soul, I should have gained peace long before I did; and so I have resolved that I will never let the Sunday pass without preaching the way of salvation; and it is this that for six-and-twenty years and more has held the multitude of people listening to me. I tell nothing but the old, old story. Why do people come? Do we deal in spiceries and nicknacks? No, but in bread; and people always want bread. I have given you to-night no fineries or niceties, but the plain word of salvation. Will you have it, or not? God grant you grace to receive salvation. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you are saved, and you may go on your way rejoicing in everlasting life.

God grant it, for Christ’s sake. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Luke 11:1 to 27.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-430, 531, 397, 846.