When the apostles met on the first Lord’s-day after Jesus had risen, Thomas was the only disciple absent out of the eleven; on the second Lord’s-day Thomas was there, and he was the only disciple doubting out of the eleven. How much the fact of his doubting was occasioned and helped by the fact of his former absence I cannot say; but still it looks highly probable that had he been there at the first, he would have enjoyed the same experience as the other ten, and would have been able to say as they did, “We have seen the Lord.” Let us not forsake the assembling of ourselves together as the manner of some is, for we cannot tell what loss we may sustain thereby. Though our Lord may reveal himself to single individuals in solitude as he did to Mary Magdalene, yet he more usually shows himself to two or three, and he delights most of all to come into the assembly of his servants. The Lord seems most at home when, standing in the midst of his people, he says, “Peace be unto you.” Let us not fail to meet with our fellow believers. For my part, the assemblies of God’s people shall ever be dear to me. Where Jesus pays his frequent visits, there would I be found.

“My soul shall pray for Zion still,

While life or breath remains;

There my best friends, my kindred dwell,

There God my Saviour reigns.”

I know that full many of you can most heartily say the same. Oh, that we may behold the Lord Jesus in the present assembly!

On the second occasion Thomas is present, and he is the only one out of the eleven who is vexed with doubts. He cannot think it possible that the Lord Jesus, who was nailed to the cross, and whose side was pierced, could have really risen from the dead. Observe joyfully the Lord’s patience with him. All the others had been doubtful too, and the Lord had gently upbraided them for their unbelief and the hardness of their hearts; but Thomas is not convinced by the tenfold testimony of his brethren, who each one well deserved his implicit confidence. After the plain way in which the Lord had told his disciples that he should be crucified and would rise again from the dead, they ought to have expected the resurrection; and inasmuch as they did not they were to be blamed: what shall we say of him who in addition to all this had heard the witness of his ten comrades who had actually seen the Lord? Yet there he is, the one doubter, the one sturdy questioner who has laid down most stringent requirements as to the only way in which he will be brought to believe. Will not his Lord be provoked by his obstinacy? See how patient Jesus is! If we had been in that case, and had died for those people, and had passed through the grave, and risen again for them, we should have felt very greatly grieved and somewhat angered if they had refused to believe in what we had done; but our Lord shows no such sign; he is tender among them as a nursing father. He rebukes their unbelief: for that was needful for their sakes; but he manifests no vexation of spirit. Especially on this occasion he shows his tenderness toward Thomas, and addresses his first words to him. If Thomas will not be convinced except by what I must call the most gross and materialistic evidence, he will give him such evidence: if he must put his finger into the print of the nails, he shall put his finger there; if he must thrust his hand into his side, he shall be permitted to take that liberty. Oh, see how Jesus condescends to the weaknesses and even to the follies of his people! If we are unbelieving it is not his fault; for he goes out of his way to teach us faith, and sometimes he even gives what we have no right to ask, what we have no reason to expect, what it was even sin in us to have desired. We are so weak, so ignorant, so prone to unbelief that he will do anything to create, sustain, and strengthen our faith in him. He condescends to men of low estate. If through our own folly we are such babes that we cannot eat the meat which is fit food for men, our Lord will not grow weary of giving us milk, but he will even break the bread into morsels, and take away the hard crusts, that we may be able to feed thereon. It is not his will that one of his little ones should perish; and therefore he chases away unbelief, which is their deadliest foe.

Our Lord had special reasons for turning as he did to Thomas that day, and for taking so much trouble to bring Thomas out of his unbelieving condition. The reason must have been, surely, first, that he desired to make of Thomas a most convincing witness to the reality of his resurrection. Here is a man who is determined not to be deceived; let him come and use the tests of his own choice. If you tell me that the resurrection of our Lord from the dead was witnessed by men who were prepared to believe it, I reply that the statement is totally false. Not one among that company even knew the meaning of the Lord’s prophecy that he would rise again from the dead. It was hard to make any of them catch the idea; it was so foreign to their thought, so far above their expectation. In Thomas we have a man who was specially hard to be convinced, a man who was so obstinate as to give the lie to ten of his friends with whom he had been associated for years. Now, if I had a statement to make which I wished to have well attested, I should like to place in the witness-box a person who was known to be exceedingly cautious and wary. I should be glad if it were known that at the first he had been suspicious and critical, but had at length been overwhelmed by evidence so as to be compelled to believe. I am sure that such a man would give his evidence with the accent of conviction, as indeed Thomas did when he cried, “My Lord and my God.” We cannot have a better witness to the fact that the Lord is risen indeed than that this cool, examining, prudent, critical Thomas arrived at an absolute certainty.

Further, I conceive that our Lord thus personally dealt with Thomas because he would have us see that he will not lose even one of those whom the Father has given him. The good Shepherd will leave the ninety and nine to seek the one wanderer. If Thomas is the most unbelieving, Thomas shall have the most care. He is only one, but yet he is one, and the Lord Jesus will not lose one whom he has ordained to save. You and I might have said, “Well, if he will not be convinced, we must let him alone; he is only one-we can do without his testimony; we cannot be for ever seeking a solitary individual; let him go.” Thus might we have done; but thus Jesus will not do. Our good Shepherd looks after the units; he is tenderly observant of each separate individual, and this is a ground of comfort to us all. If one sheep be lost, why not the whole flock? If one be thus cared for, all will be cared for.

This note is also to be heard in reference to this matter:-After all, it is to be feared that the dull, the slow, the questioning, the anxious, the weak in faith, make up a very considerable part of the church: I do not know that they are in the majority, but they are certainly far too numerous. If all Christians were arranged and classified, I fear we could not many of us place ourselves in the front rank; but a large portion would have to go among the Little-faiths. Our Lord here shows us that he has a condescending care for those who lag behind. Thomas is a week behind everybody else, yet his Lord has not lost patience, but waiteth to be gracious. The other ten apostles have all seen the Lord, and been well assured of his resurrection for the last seven days; but that is no reason why the late-comer should be left out in the cold. Our Lord does not leave the rear rank to perish. We know that in the wilderness the Amalekites slew the hindmost of the children of Israel; but when King Jesus heads the army, no Amalekites shall smite even the hindmost of his people, for the glory of the Lord shall bring up the rear. The walls of Zion enclose babes as well as veterans; the ark of our salvation preserves mice as well as bullocks; our Solomon speaks of the hyssop on the wall as well as of the cedar in Lebanon; and the glory of the Lord may be seen in the preservation of the glowworm’s lamp as truly as in the sustenance of the furnace of the sun.

Now, if there should be any in this assembly who honestly have to put themselves down in the sick list, I beg them to take comfort while I try and set forth the experience of Thomas and what came of it. First, I shall call your attention to the exclamation of Thomas, “My Lord and my God”: secondly, we will consider, how he came to it; and thirdly, how we come to it; for I trust many of us have also cried, “My Lord and my God.”

Let us consider the exclamation of Thomas, “My Lord and my God.” This is a most plain and hearty confession of the true and proper Deity of our Lord Jesus Christ.

It is as much as a man could say if he wished to assert indisputably and dogmatically that Jesus is indeed God and Lord. We find David saying, “O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God,” and in another place (Psalm 35:23) he says, “My God and my Lord,” terms only applicable to Jehovah. Such expressions were known to Thomas, and he as an Israelite would never have applied them to any person whom he did not believe to be God. We are sure therefore that it was the belief of Thomas that the risen Saviour was Lord and God. If this had been a mistake, the Lord Jesus would have rebuked him, for he would not have allowed him to be guilty of worshipping a mere man. No good man among us would permit a person to call him God and Lord; we should feel like Paul and Barnabas when they rent their clothes because the men of Lystra were ready to do sacrifice to them; how much more would the holy Jesus have felt a revolting of spirit against the idea of being worshipped and called “My Lord and my God” if he had not been of such a nature that he “thought it not robbery to be equal with God!” The perfect Jesus accepted divine homage, and therefore we are assured that it was rightly and properly given, and we do here at this moment offer him the like adoration.

To escape from the force of this confession, some who denied our Lord’s Deity in olden times had the effrontery to charge Thomas with breaking the third commandment by uttering such a cry of surprise as is common among profane talkers. Just as thoughtless persons take the Lord’s name in vain and say, “Good God!” or “O Lord!” when they are much astonished, so certain ancient heretics dared to interpret these words-“My Lord and my God.” It is clear to any thoughtful person that this could not have been the case. For, in the first place, it was not the habit of a Jew to use any such exclamation when surprised or amazed. An irreligious Gentile might have done so, but it was the last thing that would occur to a devout Israelite. If there is one thing about which the Jews in our Lord’s times were particular beyond everything, it was about using the name of God. Why, even in their sacred books they have omitted the word “Jehovah,” and have only written “Adonai,” because of a superstitious reverence for the very letters of the divine name. How can we, then, believe that Thomas would have done what no Jew at that time would have dreamed of? Israel after the Babylonian captivity had many faults, but not that of idolatry or irreverence to the divine name. I do not know what an Israelite might have said under the influence of a great surprise, but I am absolutely certain that he would not have said, “My Lord and my God.” In the next place, it could not have been a mere exclamation of surprise, or an irreverent utterance, because it was not rebuked by our Lord, and we may be sure he would not have suffered such an unhallowed cry to have gone without a reprimand. Observe, too, that it was addressed to the Lord Jesus,-“Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God.” It was not a mere outburst of surprise addressed to no one, but it was an answer directed to the Lord who had spoken to him. It was also such a reply that our Lord Jesus Christ accepted it as an evidence of faith, for in the twenty-ninth verse he says, “Thou hast believed,” and that confession was the only evidence of his believing which our Lord had received from Thomas. A mere outcry of confused astonishment in irreverent words would never have been received as a satisfactory proof of faith. Sin is not an evidence of faith. The slander proposed by the Arian must, therefore, be rejected with derision. I am almost ashamed to have mentioned it, but in these days, when every kind of error is rife, it is needful to bring to light and break in pieces many idols which we had rather have left with the moles and bats.

I regard this cry of Thomas, first, as a devout expression of that holy wonder which came upon him when his heart made the great discovery that Jesus was assuredly his Lord and God. It had flashed upon the mind of Thomas that this august person whom he had regarded as the Messiah was also God. He saw that the man at whose feet he had sat was more than man, and was assuredly God, and this amazed him so that he used broken speech. He does not say, “Thou art my Lord and my God,” as a man would say who is making a doctrinal statement, but he brings it out in fragments, he makes adoration of it, he cries in ecstacy, “My Lord and my God.” He is amazed at the discovery which he has made, and probably also at the fact that he has not seen it long before. Why, he might have known it, and ought to have perceived it years before! Had he not been present when Jesus trod the sea? when he hushed the winds, and bade the waters sleep? Had he not seen him open the blind eyes, and unstop the deaf ears? Why did he not cry, “My Lord and my God,” then? Thomas had been slow to learn, and the Lord might have said to him, as he did to Philip, “Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me?” Now on a sudden he does know his Lord-knows him to such a surprising extent that such knowledge is too wonderful for him. He had come to the meeting to prove whether he who appeared to his brethren was the same man who had died on Calvary, but now he seems to have forgotten that original question; it is more than answered, it has ceased to be a question; he is carried far further by the flood of evidence, he is landed in a full belief of the Godhead of Jesus. He spies out within that wounded body the indwelling Godhead, and at a leap he springs beyond the conviction that it is the same man to the firm assurance that Jesus is God; and consequently in broken accents, but with double assurance, he cries, “My Lord and my God.” My brethren, how I wish you would all follow Thomas this morning! I will stop a minute that you may do so. Let us wonder and admire! He that had not where to lay his head, he that suffered scourging and spitting, and died on Calvary, is nevertheless God over all, blessed for ever. He who was laid in the tomb liveth and reigneth, King of kings and Lord of lords. Hallelujah! Behold, he cometh in the glory of the Father to judge the quick and the dead. Let your spirits drink in that truth, and be amazed at it. If the fact that Jesus, the Son of God, suffered and bled, and died for you, never astonishes you, I fear that you do not believe it, or have no intelligent apprehension of the full meaning of it. Angels wonder, should not you? Oh, let us feel a holy surprise to-day, as we realize the truth that he who has redeemed us from our sins by his blood is the Son of the Highest!

Next, I believe that this was an expression of immeasurable delight; for you observe he does not say, “Lord and God,” but, “My Lord and my God.” He seems to take hold of the Lord Jesus with both hands, by those two blessed “my’s”-“My Lord and my God.” Oh, the joy that flashed from the eyes of Thomas at that moment! How quickly his heart beat! He had never known such joy as at that instant, and though he must have felt deeply humbled, yet in that humiliation there was an excessive sweetness of intense satisfaction as he looked at his divine Lord and gazed on him, from the pierced feet up to the brow so marred with the crown of thorns, and said, “My Lord and my God.” There is in these few words a music akin to the sonnet of the spouse in the Canticles when she sang, “My beloved is mine, and I am his.” The enraptured disciple saw the friend of his heart standing before him, shining upon him in love, and knitting his heart to him. I pray you follow Thomas in this joy in Christ. I pause a minute that you may do so. Before you Jesus now stands, visible to your faith. Delight yourselves in him. Be always ravished with his love. He is altogether lovely, and altogether yours. He loves you with all the infinity of his nature. The tenderness of his humanity and the majesty of his Deity blend in his love to you. Oh, love the Lord, ye his saints, for he deserves your hearts! Therefore at this moment say, “My Lord and my God.”

More than this, I believe that the words of Thomas indicate a complete change of mind,-in other words, a most hearty repentance. He has not asked of the Lord Jesus to be permitted to put his finger into the print of the nails. No, all that has gone without debate. If you look at the chapter you will find no statement that he ever did handle the Lord as he had at first proposed. Whether he did put his finger into the print of the nails, and his hand into the side, must for ever be unknown to us until we see Thomas in heaven and ask him the question. If you read the Saviour’s words as commanding him to do so, then we may conclude that he did so; but if you read them as only permitting him to do it, then I think he did not do it. I put the question to a dear companion of mine; I read the passage, and then I asked, “What think you, did Thomas put his hand into Christ’s side?” and the answer from a thoughtful mind and a gentle heart was this-“I do not think he could; after the Master had so spoken to him he would shrink from doing so, and would think it wilful unbelief to attempt it.” This reply coincided exactly with my own convictions. I feel sure that had it been my case I should have felt so ashamed at ever having proposed such a test, and so overwhelmed to find the Lord yielding to it, that I could not have gone an inch further in the way of seeking tokens and proofs unless I had been absolutely commanded to do so. So, judging Thomas to be like ourselves, and indeed much better than any of us, notwithstanding his imperfection, I gather that he completely turned round, and instead of putting his finger into the print of the nails, he cried, “My Lord and my God.” The Saviour said to him, “Because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed.” Now, I lay no stress upon it; but it would seem probable that the Saviour might have said, “Because thou hast touched me thou hast believed,” if Thomas had indeed touched him; but inasmuch as he only speaks of sight, it may be that sight was enough for Thomas. I do not insist upon it, but I think it right to suggest it; I feel it is not unreasonable to conclude that all Thomas did was to look at his Lord. He could do no more; the delicacy of his spirit would not permit him to accept the offered test; his reverence checked him; he saw and believed. In him we see a complete change of feeling; from being the most unbelieving of the eleven, he came to believe more than any of them, and to confess Jesus to be God.

This exclamation is also a brief confession of faith,” My Lord and my God.” Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he be able to unite with Thomas heartily in this creed, “My Lord and my God.” I do not go in for all the minute distinctions of the Athanasian Creed, but I have no doubt that it was absolutely needful at the time it was written, and that it materially helped to check the evasions and tricks of the Arians. This short creed of Thomas I like much better, for it is brief, pithy, full, sententious, and it avoids those matters of detail which are the quicksands of faith. Such a belief is needful; but no man can truly hold it unless he be taught by the Holy Ghost. He can say the words, but he cannot receive the spiritual truth. No man can call Jesus “Lord” but by the Holy Ghost. It is therefore a most needful and saving creed that we should cry to the Lord Jesus, “My Lord and my God.” I ask you to do this now in your hearts. Renew your faith, and confess that he who died for you is your Lord and God. Socinians may call Jesus what they please; to me he is God over all, blessed for ever. I know that you say, “Amen.”

Further than this, do you not think that these words of Thomas were an enthusiastic profession of his allegiance to Christ? “My Lord and my God.” It was as though he paid him lowliest homage, and dedicated himself there and then in the entirety of his nature to his service. To him whom he had once doubted he now submits himself, for in him he fully believes. He does as good as say, “Henceforth, O Christ, thou art my Lord, and I will serve thee; thou art my God, and I will worship thee.”

Finally, I regard it as a distinct and direct act of adoration. At the feet of the manifested Saviour, Thomas cries, “My Lord and my God.” It sounds like a rehearsal of the eternal song which ascends before that throne where cherubim and seraphim continually do cry, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth.” It sounds like a stray note from those choral symphonies which day without night circle the throne of the Eternal. Let us in solemn silence now present our souls before the throne, bowing in reverent adoration unto him that was, and is, and is to come, even the Lamb that was slain, who is risen, and who liveth for ever. “My Lord and my God.” O Son of Mary, thou art also Son of the Highest, and unto my heart and spirit thou art my Lord and my God, and I worship thee this day! We have not time or else I would sit down and invite you to spend a few minutes in private, personal worship, following the example of Thomas in adoring our Lord and God.

Our next division is to be headed with the question-How did he come to that exclamation? Have you ever thought what Thomas’s feelings were when he went to the meeting that evening? His going needed a complicated explanation. Why did he mingle with men whose solemn assertions he doubted? Could he have fellowship with them, and yet give them the lie? Suppose Jesus Christ to be dead, and not risen, why does Thomas go? Is he going to worship a dead man? Is he about to renounce the faith of the last two years? How can he hold it if Jesus is not alive? Yet how can he give it up? Was Jesus Christ Lord and God to Thomas when he first entered that meeting? I suppose not. He did not, when he entered the room, believe him to be the same person who had died. The other disciples did believe, and Thomas was now the lone doubter, peculiar, positive, obstinate. Has it never happened to other disciples to drift into much the same condition? Thomas was a lot out of catalogue that evening: he was the odd person in the little gathering, and yet before service was over the Lord had completely altered him. “Behold, there are last which shall be first, and there are first which shall be last.”

The first thing, I think, that led Thomas to this confession of his belief in Christ’s Deity was that he had his thoughts revealed. The Saviour came into the room, the doors being shut; without opening the doors he suddenly appeared before them by his own divine power. There and then pointing to Thomas he repeated to him the very words which Thomas had said to his brethren. They had not been reported to the Saviour, but the Saviour had read Thomas’s thoughts at a distance, and he was therefore able to bring before him his exact words. Notice that the Saviour did not say, “Stoop down and put thy finger into the nail-prints in my feet.” Why not? Why, because Thomas had not said anything about his feet, and therefore the Saviour did not mention them. Everything was exact. We in looking at it can see the exactness; but Thomas must have felt it much more. He was overwhelmed. To have his thoughts put in plain words, and to hear his own words repeated by him whom they concerned, this was truly wonderful. “Oh,” saith he, “he who now speaks to me is none other than God, and he shall be my Lord and my God.” This helped him to his assured conviction that one who had read his thoughts must be God.

He was aided still further, for as soon as he perceived that this was the same Jesus with whom he had conversed before, all the past must have risen before his mind, and he must have remembered the many occasions in which the Lord Jesus had exercised the attributes of Deity. That past intercourse thus revived before him must all have gone to support the conviction that Jesus was none other than Lord and God.

And then, methinks, the very air, and manner, and presence of the Saviour convinced the trembling disciple. They say there is a divinity that doth hedge a king; that I am not prepared to believe; but I am sure there was a majesty about the look of our Lord, a more than human dignity in his manner and tone, and speech and bearing. Our Lord’s personal presence convinced Thomas: so that he saw and believed.

But perhaps the most convincing arguments of all were our Lord’s wounds. It seems a long way round to infer the Deity of Christ from his wounds: yet it is good and clear argument. I shall not set it out in order before you, but leave you to think it out for yourselves, yet one little hint I would give you: here is a wound in his side more than sufficient to have caused death; it has gone right to the heart; the soldier with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith flowed there out blood and water, proving that the heart was pierced. The opening was still there, for the Lord invited Thomas to thrust his hand into his side, and yet Jesus lived. Heard ye ever such a story as this?-a man with a death-wound gaping wide inviting another to thrust his hand therein. Had our Lord been living after the way in which we live, by the circulation of the blood, one can hardly see how this could have been possible. Flesh and blood, being subject to corruption, cannot inherit the kingdom of God; but the Saviour’s risen body came not under that description, as indeed his buried body did not, for he saw no corruption. I invite you to note well the distinction which may be seen in our Lord’s words concerning his own body; he does not speak of his body as flesh and blood, but he says, “Handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have.” It was a real body and a material body: for he took a piece of a broiled fish and of a honey-comb, and did eat before them; but still his resurrection body, living with an open wound in his side, reaching to the heart, was not after the manner of men. So even in the wounds of Christ, we read that he is man, but not mere man: his wounds in various ways were evidence to Thomas of his Deity. Anyhow, the glorious fact rushed upon Thomas’s astonished mind in a single moment, and therefore he cried out, “My Lord and my God.”

Finally, let us see how we may come to it. That is our final point, and the most practical of all. I doubt not that the Spirit of God was at work with Thomas at that time very mightily, and that the true cause of his enlightenment was heavenly illumination. If ever any one of us shall cry in spirit and in truth, “My Lord and my God!” the Holy Spirit must teach us. Blessed art thou who can call Jesus “Lord and God,” for flesh and blood hath not revealed this unto thee, but the Father from heaven.

But I will tell you when believers do cry, “My Lord and my God.” I remember the first time it filled my heart. Burdened with guilt, and full of fears, I was as wretched as a man could be outside of hell-gate, when I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else.” I did look there and then; I gave a faith-glance to him who suffered in my stead, and in an instant my peace was like a river. My heart leaped from despair to gladness, and I knew my Lord to be divine. If any one had said to me then, “Jesus Christ is not God,” I would have laughed him to scorn. He was beyond all question my Lord and my God, for he had wrought a divine work in me.

It may not be an argument to anybody else, but forgiveness consciously known in the soul is a conclusive argument to the man who has ever felt it. If the Lord Jesus turns your mourning into dancing, brings you up out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, and sets your feet upon a rock and establishes your goings, he is sure to be your Lord and God henceforth and for ever. In the teeth of all that deny it, in the teeth of all the devils in hell, the redeemed heart will assert the Godhead of its Saviour. He that hath saved me is indeed God, and beside him there is none else.

This first avowal has proved to be only the beginning of these confessions. We remember many other acknowledgments of the same fact. We were severely tempted, and yet we did not slip, nor stain our garments. What a wonder that we escaped! He that kept us from falling must be God. I know some moments in my life when I could stand and look back in the morning-light upon the valley through which I had passed in the dark; and when I saw how narrow the pathway was, how a little step to the left or to the right must have been my total destruction, and yet I had never tripped, but had come straight through in perfect safety, I was astounded, and bowing my head I worshipped, saying,” The Lord has been my refuge and my defence. He has kept my soul in life and preserved me from the destroyer, therefore will I sing songs unto him as long as I live.” Oh, yes, dear children of God, when your heads have been covered in the day of battle, you have magnified the Keeper of Israel, saying, “My Lord and my God.” We have felt that we could not doubt again, and have joyfully committed ourselves to his keeping as to the guardian care of a faithful Creator.

Such, also, has been the case in time of trouble, when you have been comforted and upheld. A very heavy affliction has fallen upon you, and yet to your surprise it has not crushed you as you feared it would have done. Years before you had looked forward to the stroke with agonizing apprehension, and said, “I shall never bear it;” but you did bear it, and at this moment you are thankful that you had it to bear. The thing which you feared came upon you, and when it came it seemed like a feather weight compared with what you expected it to be; you were able to sit down and say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Your friends were surprised at you: you had been a poor, wretchedly nervous creature before, but in the time of trial you displayed a singular strength such as surprised everybody. Most of all you surprised yourself, for you were full of amazement that in weakness you were made so strong. You said, “I was brought low, and he helped me.” You could not doubt his Deity then: anything which would rob him of glory you detested, for your heart said, “Lord, there is none that could have solaced my soul in this fashion save only the Lord God Almighty.” Personally I have had to cry out, “It is the Lord!” when I have seen his wonders in the deep. “O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength.” My soul shall magnify my Lord and my God, for “he sent from above, he took me; he drew me out of many waters. He brought me forth also into a large place: he delivered me, because he delighted in me.”

There have been other occasions less trying. Bear with me if I mention one or two more. When we have been musing, the fire has burned. While studying the story of our Lord, our faith in his Deity has been intensified. When the Spirit of God has revealed the Lord Jesus to us and in us, then we have cried, “My Lord and my God.” Though not after the flesh, yet in very deed and truth we have seen the Lord. On a day which I had given up to prayer, I sat before the Lord in holy peacefulness, wrapped in solemn contemplation, and though I did not see a vision, nor wish to see one, yet I so realized my Master’s presence that I was borne away from all earthly things, and knew of no man save Jesus only. Then a sense of his Godhead filled me till I would fain have stood up where I was and have proclaimed aloud, as with the voice of a trumpet, that he was my Lord and my God. Such times you also have known.

Jesus is often known of us in the breaking of bread. At the communion-table many a time we have seen and adored. It was very precious; we were ready to weep and laugh for joy. Our heart kept beating to the tune of “My Lord and my God.” Perhaps it was not in any outward ordinance that your soul thus adored; but quite away in the country, or by the seaside, as you walked along and communed with your own heart, you were suddenly overpowered with a sense of Jesus’ glorious majesty, so that you could only whisper to yourself as in a still small voice, “My Lord and my God.” Or perhaps it was when you were laid aside with illness that he made all your bed, and then you knew his power divine. It was a long and weary night to those who watched you, but to you it was all too short, and brimmed with sweetness, for the Lord was there, and he gave you songs in the night. When you awoke you were still with him and felt ready to faint with overwhelming delight because of the brightness of the manifestation. At such a time you could have sung,

“My Christ, he is the Lord of lords,

He is the King of kings;

He is the Sun of righteousness,

With healing in his wings.

My Christ, he is the heaven of heavens,

My Christ, what shall I call?

My Christ is first, my Christ is last,

My Christ is All in all.”

I will tell you yet again when Jesus has been Lord and God both to me and to you, and that is in times when he has blessed our labours, and laid his arm bare in the salvation of men. When our report has been believed by those who rejected it before, and the Lord has sent us a happy season of revival, we have given to him the glory, and rejoiced in his omnipotent love. We prayed for our children, and when to our surprise-it is a shame to say to our surprise, for it ought not to have surprised us-the Lord heard our prayer, and first one and then another came to us and said, “Father, I have found the Lord,” then we knew that the Lord he is God, and our God too. We looked up from our poor prayers with tears in our eyes to think the Lord Jesus could have heard such weak petitions, and we said in the depths of our hearts, “My Lord and my God.” We went out and tried to teach a dozen or two in a cottage-poor, broken words were all that we could utter; but the Lord blessed it, and we heard a poor woman crying for mercy as we came out, and we said inwardly, “My Lord and my God.” If you have been in the Enquiry-room after some brother whom God greatly honours has been proclaiming the word with power, and if you have seen the people falling right and left under the shafts of the divine word, you must have cried, “This is no cunningly devised fable, no fiction, and no fancy,” and your heart must have throbbed with all its life, “My Lord and my God.” Have you not felt as if you would dare to go through, the very streets of hell, and tell the grinning fiends that Christ is King and Lord for ever and ever?

The time is very soon coming with some of us when we shall have our last opportunities in this life to find this true. How comforted and refreshed have I often been when visiting dying saints. Truly the Lord has prepared a table for them in the presence of the last enemy. I can truly say that no scenes that these eyes have ever beheld have so gladdened me as the sight of my dear brethren and sisters when they have been departing out of the world unto the Father. The saddest scene has been the happiest. I have known some of them in life as self-distrusting, trembling, lowly-minded believers; and when they have come into the valley of death-shade they have displayed no fear, no doubt, but all has been full assurance. Placid, calm, beautiful, joyful, and even triumphant have been the last hours of timid believers. As I have heard their charming words I have been certain of the Godhead of him who gives us victory while we die. It is faith in his name that makes men strong in death. When heart and flesh fail us, only the living God can be the strength of our life, and our portion for ever. How sweet to know Jesus as our living God in our dying moments! In him we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory, as we say unto him in death, “My Lord and my God.” Come, brothers and sisters, be of good cheer! A little further on we shall come to the narrow stream. This we shall cross in an instant, and then--! It will be but a short, short time; twenty years is soon gone, a hundred years even fly as on eagles’ wings, and then we shall be for ever with the Lord in the glory land. How sweetly will we sing to his eternal praise, “My Lord and my God”! There shall be no doubters in heaven; no sceptics shall worry us there; but this shall be the unanimous voice of all the redeemed-“Jesus is our Lord and God.” The united church, freed from every spot and wrinkle, and gloriously arrayed as the bride of Christ, shall be conducted to his throne, and acknowledged as the Lord’s beloved, and then shall she with full heart exclaim, “My Lord and my God.”

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-John 20:1-29.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-309, 337, 650.

UNBINDING LAZARUS

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, April 20th, 1884, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.”-John 11:43, 44.

In many things our Lord Jesus stands alone as a worker. No other can unite his voice with the fiat which says, “Lazarus, come forth.” Yet in certain points of gracious operation the Master associates his servants with him, so that when Lazarus has come forth he says to them, “Loose him, and let him go.” In the raising of the dead he is alone, and therein majestic and divine: in the loosing of the bound he is associated with them, and remains still majestic; but his more prominent feature is condescension. How exceedingly kind it is of our Lord Jesus to permit his disciples to do some little thing in connection with his great deeds, so that they may be “workers together with him.” Our Lord as frequently as possible associated his disciples with himself; of course, they could not aid him in presenting an atoning sacrifice, yet it was their honour that they had said, “Let us go that we may die with him,” and that in their love they resolved to go with him to prison and to death. Our Lord understood the fickleness of their character, yet he knew that they were sincere in their desire to be associated with him in all his life-story whatever it might be. Hence, when he afterwards rode into Jerusalem in triumph, he alone was saluted with Hosannas; but he sent two of his disciples to bring the ass on which he rode, and they cast their garments upon the colt und they set Jesus thereon, and as he went they spread their clothes in the way. Thus they contributed to his lowly pomp, and shared in the exultation of the royal day. Further on, when he would keep the feast, he expressly dwells upon it that he would keep it with them; for he said, “With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer.” He sent Peter and John to prepare that passover, he directed them to the large upper room furnished, and there he bade them make ready. Anything that they could do they were allowed to do.

Their Lord was willing to have led them further still; but through weakness they stopped short. In the garden he bade them watch with him on that dreadful night, and he sought sympathy from them.

“Backward and forward, thrice he ran,

As if he sought some help from man.”

He cried in sorrowful disappointment, “Could ye not watch with me one hour?” Ah, no! They could go to the brink of the abyss with him, but they could not descend into its deeps. He must tread the winepress alone, and of the people there must be none with him; yet as far as they could go he disdained not their dear society. He allowed them according to their capacity to drink of his cup, and to be baptized with his baptism; and if their fellowship with him in his sufferings went no farther, it was not because he warned them back, but because they had not the strength to follow. According to his own judgment they were intimately associated with him, for he said to them, “Ye are they which have continued with me in my temptations.”

Beloved, our Jesus Christ still delights to associate us with him as far as our feebleness and folly will permit. In his present work of bringing sinners to himself, he counts it a part of his reward that we should be labourers together with him. In his working people he beholds the travail of his soul as well as in the sinners whom they bring to him; thus, he has a double reward, and is as much glorified in the love, and pity, and zeal of his servants as in the harvest which they reap. As a father smiles to see his little children imitating him, and endeavouring to assist him in his work, so is Jesus pleased to see our lowly efforts for his honour. It is his joy to see the eyes which he has opened weeping with him over the impenitent, and to hear the tongue which he has loosed speaking in prayer and in the preaching of the gospel; yea, to see any of the members which he has restored and healed occupied as members of righteousness in his service. Jesus is glad to save sinners at all, but most of all glad to save them by the means of those already saved. Thus he blesses the prodigal sons and the servants of the household at the same moment. He gives to the lost salvation, and upon his own called and chosen ones he puts the honour of being used for the grandest purposes under heaven. It is mote honourable to save a soul from death than to rule an empire. Such honour all the saints may have.

The chief subject of this morning’s discourse is our association with Christ in gracious labour; but we must on the road consider other themes which lead up to it. First, I would call your attention to a memorable miracle which was wrought by our Lord in the burying-place at Bethany; secondly, I would set before you a singular spectacle, for in Lazarus we see a living man wearing the wrappings of the dead; thirdly, we will learn something from a timely assistance, which the friends around lent to the risen man after the Lord had said, “Loose him, and let him go”; and then by way of conclusion, we will note a practical hint which this whole subject gives to those who are willing to hear what Christ their Lord will speak to them. Oh, that the Spirit of God may make us quick of understanding to perceive the mind of the Lord, and then diligent of heart to carry out his will! Come, O blessed Spirit, help thy servant at this hour!

First, then, this chapter records a memorable miracle. Perhaps that writer is correct who speaks of the raising of Lazarus as the most remarkable of all our Lord’s mighty works. There is no measuring miracles, for they are all displays of the infinite; but in some respects the raising of Lazarus stands at the head of the wonderful series of miracles with which our Lord astonished and instructed the people. Yet I am not in error when I assert that it is a type of what the Lord Jesus is constantly doing at this hour in the realm of mind and spirit. Did he raise the naturally dead? So doth he still raise the spiritually dead. Did he bring back a body from corruption? So doth he still deliver men from loathsome sins. The life-giving miracle of grace is as truly astounding as the quickening miracle of power. As this was in some respects a more remarkable resurrection than the raising of Jairus’s daughter, or of the young man at the gate of Nain, so there are certain conversions and regenerations which are to the observing mind more astonishing than others.

I notice the memorableness of this miracle in the subject of it, because the man had been dead four days. To give life to one of whom his own sister said, “Lord, by this time he stinketh,” was a deed fragrant with divine power. Corruption had set in, but he who is the resurrection and the life stayed and reversed the process. Probably the sisters had perceived the traces of decay upon the body of their beloved brother before they buried him, for it is more than supposable that they delayed the funeral as long as possible under an undefined hope that perhaps their Lord would appear upon the scene. In that warm climate the ravages of decay are extremely rapid, and before many hours the loving sisters were compelled to admit, as Abraham had done before them, that they must bury their dead out of their sight. It was their full conviction that the terrible devourings of corruption had commenced. What then can be done? When a man has newly fallen asleep in death, and every vein and artery is in its place, and every separate organ is still perfect, it might seem possible for the life-flood again to flow. It somewhat resembles an engine which was but lately in full action, and though it is now motionless, the valves, and wheels, and bands, are still there; only kindle anew the fire, and reapply the motive force, and the machinery will speedily begin to work. But when corruption comes, every valve is displaced, every wheel is broken, every band is severed, the very metal itself is eaten away. What can be done now? Surely it were an easier task to make a new man altogether out of the earth than to take this poor corrupted corpse which has turned to worms’ meat and make it live again. This was the stupendous miracle of divine power which our glorious Lord performed upon his friend Lazarus. Now, there are some men who are symbolized by this case: they are not only devoid of all spiritual life, but corruption has set in; their character has become abominable, their language is putrid, their spirit is loathsome. The pure mind desires to have them put out of sight; they cannot be endured in any decent society. They are so far gone from original righteousness as to be an offence to all, and it does not seem possible that ever they should be restored to purity, honesty, or hope. When the Lord in infinite compassion comes to deal with them and makes them to live, then the most sceptical are obliged to confess, “This is the finger of God!” What can it be else? Such a profane wretch become a believer! Such a blasphemer a man of prayer! Such a proud, conceited talker, receive the kingdom as a little child! Surely God himself must have wrought this marvel! Now is fulfilled the word of the Lord by Ezekiel,-“And ye shall know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your graves, O my people, and brought you up out of your graves.” We bless our God that he does thus quicken the dry bones, whose hope was lost. However far gone a man may be, he cannot be beyond the reach of the Lord’s right arm of mighty mercy. The Lord can change the vilest of the vile into the most holy of the holy! Blessed be his name, we have seen him do this, and therefore we have cheering hope for the worst of men!

The next notable point about this miracle is the manifest human weakness of its worker. He who had to deal with this dead man was himself a man. I do not know of any passage of Scripture wherein the manhood of Christ is more frequently manifested than in this narrative. The Godhead is, of course, eminently conspicuous in the resurrection of Lazarus, but the Lord seemed as if he designedly at the same time set his manhood to the front. The Pharisees said, according to the forty-seventh verse, “What do we? for this man doeth many miracles.” They are to be blamed for denying his Godhead, but not for dwelling upon his manhood, for every part of the singular scene before us made it conspicuous. When our Lord had seen Mary’s tears, we read that he groaned in spirit and was troubled. Thus he showed the sorrows and the sympathies of a man. We cannot forget those memorable words, “Jesus wept.” Who but a man should weep? Weeping is a human speciality. Jesus never seems to be more completely bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh than when he weeps. Next, our Lord made an enquiry-“Where have ye laid him?” He veils his omniscience: as a man he seeks information-where is the body of his dear departed friend? Even as Mary in after days said about himself, “Tell me where thou hast laid him,” so does the Lord Jesus ask for information as a man who knows not. As if to show his manhood even more fully, when they tell him where Lazarus is entombed he goes that way. He needed not to go: he might have spoken a word where he was, and the dead would have risen. Could he not as easily have wrought at a distance as near at hand? Being man, “Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave.” When he has reached the spot he sees a cave whose mouth is closed by a huge stone, and now he seeks human assistance. He cries, “Take ye away the stone.” Why, surely he who could raise the dead could have rolled away the stone with the self-same word! Yet, as if needing help from those about him, the man Christ Jesus reminds us again of Mary at his own sepulchre, saying, “Who shall roll us away the stone?” That done, our Lord lifts up his eyes to heaven, and addresses the Father in mingled prayer and thanksgiving. How like a man is all this! He takes the suppliant’s place. He speaks with God as a man speaketh with his friend, but still as a man. Did not this condescending revelation of the manhood make the miracle all the more remarkable? The time came when the flame of the Godhead flashed forth from the unconsumed bush of the manhood. The voice of him who wept was heard in the chambers of death-shade, and forth came the soul of Lazarus to live again in the body. “The weakness of God” proved itself to be stronger than death and mightier than the grave. It is a parable of our own case as workers. Sometimes we see the human side of the gospel, and wonder whether it can do many mighty works. When we tell the story, we fear that it will appear to the people as a thrice-told tale. We wonder how it can be that truth so simple, so homely, so common should have any special power about it. Yet it is so. Out of the foolishness of preaching the wisdom of God shines forth. The glory of the eternal God is seen in that gospel which we preach in much trembling and infirmity. Let us therefore glory in our infirmity, because the power of God doth all the more evidently rest upon us. Let us not despise our day of small things, nor be dismayed because we are manifestly so feeble. This work is not for our honour, but for the glory of God, and any circumstance which tends to make that glory more evident is to be rejoiced in.

Let us consider for a few moments the instrumental cause of this resurrection. Nothing was used by our Lord but his own word of power. Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” He simply repeated the dead man’s name, and added two commanding words. This was a simple business enough. Dear friends, a miracle seems all the greater when the means used are apparently feeble and little adapted to the working of so great a result. It is so in the salvation of men. It is marvellous that such poor preaching should convert such great sinners. Many are turned unto the Lord by the simplest, plainest, most unadorned preaching of the gospel. They hear little, but that little is from the lip of Jesus. Many converts find Christ by a single short sentence. The divine life is borne into their hearts upon the wings of a brief text. The preacher owned no eloquence, he made no attempt at it; but the Holy Spirit spoke through him with a power which eloquence could not rival. Thus said the Lord “Ye dry bones live”; and they did live. I delight to preach my Master’s gospel in the plainest terms. I would speak still more simply if I could. I would borrow the language of Daniel concerning Belshazzar’s robe of scarlet and his chain of gold, and I would say to rhetoric, “Let thy gifts be to thyself, and give thy rewards to another.” The power to quicken the dead lieth not in the wisdom of words but in the Spirit of the living God. The voice is Christ’s voice, and the word is the word of him who is the resurrection and the life, and therefore men live by it. Let us rejoice that it is not needful that you and I should become orators in order that the Lord Jesus should speak by us: let the Spirit of God rest upon us, and we shall be endowed with power from on high: so that even the spiritually dead shall through us hear the voice of the Son of God, and they that hear shall live.

The result of the Lord’s working must not be passed over, for it is a main element of wonder in this miracle. Lazarus did come forth and that immediately. The thunder of Christ’s voice was attended by the lightning of his divine power, and forthwith life flashed into Lazarus and he came forth. Bound as he was, the power which had enabled him to live enabled him to shuffle forth from the ledge of rock whereon he lay, and there he stood with nothing of death about him but his grave-clothes. He quitted the close air of the sepulchre and returned to know once more the things which are done under the sun; and that at once. To me it is one of the great glories of the gospel that it does not require weeks and months to quicken men and make new creatures of them; salvation can come to them at once. The man who stepped into this Tabernacle this morning steeped in rebellion against his God, and apparently impervious to divine truth, may nevertheless go down those steps with his sins forgiven, and with a new spirit imparted to him, in the strength of which he shall begin to live unto God as he never lived before. Do you speak of a nation being born at once, as if it were impossible? It is possible with God. The Divine Power can send a flash of life all round the world at any instant to quicken myriads of his chosen. We are dealing now with God, not with men. Man must have time to prepare his machinery, and get it into going order; but it is not so with the Lord. We, on our part, must seek after a preacher, and find for him a place wherein the people may be gathered; but when the Lord Jesus works, straightway the deed is done, with or without the preacher, and inside or outside the place of assembly! If you and I had to feed five thousand, we should need to grind the corn at the mill, and bake the bread in the oven, and then we should be a long time in bringing the loaves in baskets; but the Master takes the barley cakes and breaks, and as he breaks the food is multiplied. Anon he handles the fish, and lo, it seems as if a shoal had been in his hands instead of “a few small fishes.” Behold! the vast multitude receives refreshment from the little stock which has been so abundantly increased. Trust ye in God, my brethren. In all your work of love, trust in the unseen power which lay at the back of the manhood of Christ, and still lies at the back of the simple gospel which we preach. The everlasting word may seem to be weak and feeble; it may groan and weep, and seem as if it could do no more; but it can raise the dead, and raise them at once. Be ye sure of this.

The effect which this miracle produced upon those who looked on was very remarkable, for many believed in the Lord Jesus. Besides this, the miracle of raising Lazarus was so unquestioned and unquestionable a fact that it brought the Pharisees to a point-they would now make an end of Christ. They had huffed and puffed at his former miracles; but this one had struck such a blow that in their wrath they determined that he should die. No doubt this miracle was the immediate cause of the crucifixion of Jesus: it marked a point of decision when men must either believe in Christ, or become his deadly foes. Oh, brethren, if the Lord be with us, we shall see multitudes believing through Jesus; and if the rage of the enemy becomes thereby the more intense, let us not fear it: there will come a last decisive struggle, and mayhap it shall be brought on by some amazing display of the divine power in the conversion of the chief of sinners. Let us hope so; let us not be afraid that Armageddon should be fought, for it will end in victory. We shall see greater things than these!

Secondly, I beg you to observe a singular spectacle. A notable miracle was unquestionably wrought; but it required a finishing touch.

The man was wholly raised, but not wholly freed. See, here is a living man in the garments of death! That napkin and other grave-clothes were altogether congruous with death, but they were much out of place when Lazarus began again to live. It is a wretched sight to see a living man wearing his shroud. Yet we have seen in this Tabernacle hundreds of times people quickened by Divine grace with their grave-clothes still upon them. Such was their condition that unless you observed carefully you would think them still dead; and yet within them the lamp of heavenly life was burning. Some said, “He is dead, look at his garments;” but the more spiritual cried, “He is not dead, but these bands must be loosed.” It is a singular spectacle: a living man hampered with the cerements of death!

Moreover, he was a moving man bound hand and foot. How he moved I do not know. Some of the old writers thought that he glided, as it were, through the air, and that this was part of the miracle. I think he may have been so bound that though he could not freely walk yet he could shuffle along like a man in a sack. I know that I have seen souls bound and yet moving; moving intensely in one direction, and yet not capable of stirring an inch in another. Have you not seen a man so truly alive that he wept, he mourned, he groaned over sin; but yet he could not believe in Christ, but seemed bound hand and foot as to faith? I have seen him give up his sin determinedly, and crush a bad habit under his foot, and yet he could not lay hold on a promise or receive a hope. Lazarus was free enough in one way, for he came out of the tomb, but the blinding napkin was about his head; and even so it is with many a quickened sinner, for when you try to show him some cheering truth he cannot see it.

Moreover, here was a repulsive object, but yet attractive. Mary and Martha must have been charmed to see their brother, even though wrapped in grave-clothes. He startled all the assembly, and yet they were drawn to him. A man fresh from the sepulchre robed in a windingsheet is a sight one would go a long way not to see, but such was Lazarus; yet a man restored from death it were worth while to travel round the world to look upon, and such was Lazarus. Mary and Martha felt their hearts dancing within them since their dear brother was alive. Notwithstanding the repulsiveness of the spectacle, it must have charmed them beyond anything they had seen except the Lord himself. So have we come near to a poor sinner; it was enough to frighten anybody to hear his groans, and to see his weeping, but yet he was so dear to every true heart that we loved to be with him. I have sometimes spoken with broken-hearted sinners, and they have pretty nearly broken my heart; and yet, when they have gone out of the room, I have wished to see a thousand like them. Poor creatures, they fill us with sorrow, and yet flood us with joy.

Moreover, here was a man strong, and yet helpless. He was strong enough to come forth from his grave, and yet he could not take the napkin from his own head, for his hands were bound, and he could not go to his house, for his feet were swathed. Unless some kind hand unbound him he would remain a living mummy. He had strength sufficient to quit the grave, but he could not be quit of his grave-clothes. So have we seen men strong, for the Spirit of God has been in them, and has moved them mightily; they have been passionately in earnest even to agony in one direction, yet the newborn life has been so feeble in other ways that they seemed to be mere babes in swaddling clothes. They have not been able to enjoy the liberty of Christ, nor enter into communion with Christ, nor work for Christ. They have been bound hand and foot: work and progress have alike been beyond them. This seems a strange sequel to a miracle. The bands of death loosed, but not the bands of linen; motion given, but not movement of hand or foot; strength bestowed, but not the power to undress himself. Such anomalies are common in the world of grace.

This brings us to consider a timely assistance which you and I are called upon to render. O for wisdom to learn our duty, and grace to do it at once.

Let us consider what are these bands which often bind newly regenerated sinners? Some of them are blindfolded by the napkin about their head;-they are very ignorant, sadly devoid of spiritual perception, and withal the eye of faith is darkened. Yet the eye is there, and Christ has opened it; and it is the business of the servant of God to remove the napkin which bandages it, by teaching the truth, explaining it, and clearing up difficulties. This is a simple thing to do, but exceedingly necessary. Now that they have life we shall teach them to purpose. Besides that, they are bound hand and foot, so that they are compelled to inaction; we can show them how to work for Jesus. Sometimes these bands are those of sorrow, they are in an awful terror about the past; we have to unbind them by showing that the past is blotted out. They are wrapped about by many a yard of doubt, mistrust, anguish, and remorse. “Loose them, and let them go.”

Another hindrance is the band of fear. “Oh,” says the poor soul, “I am such a sinner that God must punish me for my sin.” Tell him the grand doctrine of substitution. Unwrap this cerement by the assurance that Jesus took our sin, and that “by his stripes we are healed.” It is wonderful what liberty comes by that precious truth when it is well understood. The penitent soul fears that Jesus will refuse its prayer; assure it that he will in nowise cast out any that come to him. Let fear be taken from the soul by the promises of Scripture, by our testimony to their truth, and by the Spirit bearing witness to the doctrine which we endeavour to impart.

Souls are very often bound with the grave-clothes of prejudice. They used to think so and so before conversion, and they are very apt to carry their dead thoughts into their new life. Go and tell them that things are not what they seem: that old things have passed away, and behold all things have become new. The days of their ignorance God winked at, but now they must change their minds about everything, and no more judge according to the sight of the eyes and the hearing of the ears. Some of them are bound with the grave-clothes of evil habit. It is a noble work to aid a drunkard to unwind the accursed bands which prevent his making the slightest progress towards better things. Let us tear off every band from ourselves that we may the more readily help them to be free. The bonds of evil habits may still remain upon men that have received the divine life until those habits are pointed out to them and the evil of them is shown and so they are helped by precept, prayer, and example to free themselves. Who among us would wish Lazarus to continue wearing his shroud? Who would wish to see a regenerate man falling into ill habits? When the Lord quickens men the main point of the business is secured, and then you and I can come in to loose every bond which would hamper and hinder the free action of the divine life.

But why are these bandages left? Why did not the miracle which raised Lazarus also loosen his grave-clothes? I answer because our Lord Jesus is always economical of miracles. False wonders are plentiful: true miracles are few and far between. In the Church of Rome such miracles as they claim are usually a lavish waste of power. When St. Swithin made it rain for forty days that his corpse might not be carried into the church it was much ado about very little; when St. Denis walked a thousand miles with his head in his hands one is apt to ask why he could not have journeyed quite as well if he had set it on his neck; and when another saint crossed the sea on a table-cloth it would appear to have been an improvement if he had borrowed a boat. Rome can afford to be free with her counterfeit coin. The Lord Jesus never works a miracle unless there is an object to be gained which could not be obtained in any other way. When the enemy said, “Command that these stones be made bread,” our Lord refused, for it was not a fit occasion for a miracle. Lazarus cannot be raised out of the grave except by a miracle, but he can be unstripped without a miracle, and therefore human hands must do it. If there is anything in the kingdom of God which we can do ourselves it is folly to say, “May the Lord do it,” for he will do nothing of the sort. If you can do it you shall do it; or if you refuse the neglect shall be visited upon you.

I suppose that those bands were left that those who came to unwind him should be sure that he was the same man who died. Some of them may have said, “This is Lazarus, for these are the grave-clothes which we wrapped about him. There is no trickery here. This is the selfsame man that was laid out and prepared by us for burial.” “I recollect putting in that stitch,” cries one. “I remember that stain in the linen,” cries another. From coming so near to Lazarus they would be equally well assured that he was really alive! They perceived his living flesh rising as each ligature was removed: they marked his breathing, and the flush which reddened his cheek. For some such cause our Lord permits the quickened sinner to remain in a measure of bondage, that we may know that the man is the same person who was really dead in trespasses and sins. He was no sham sinner, for the traces of his sins are still upon him. You can see by what he says that his training was none of the best; the relics of the old nature show what manner of man he used to be. Every now and then the smell of the sepulchre meets your nostril; the mould of the grave has stained his grave-clothes; his was true death, and no imitation of it. So, too, we know that he is alive, for we hear his sighs and cries, and we perceive that his experience is that of a living child of God. Those desires, that searching of heart, and that longing to be soundly right with God,-we know what these mean. It is a great help to us in discerning spirits, and in being assured of the work of God upon any person, to come into living contact with those imperfections which it is to be our privelege to remove under the guidance of the Holy Ghost.

Moreover, I still think that the main object was that these disciples might enter into rare fellowship with Christ. They could each say, not proudly but still joyfully, “Our Lord raised Lazarus, and I was there and helped to unloose him from his grave-clothes.” Perhaps Martha could say in after-life, “I took the napkin from my brother’s dear face.” and Mary could add, “I helped to unbind a hand.” It is most sweet to hope that we have done anything to cheer, or to teach, or sanctify a soul. Not unto us can be any praise, but unto us there is much comfort concerning this thing. Brothers and sisters, will you not earn a share in this dear delight? Will you not seek the lost sheep? Will you not sweep the house for the lost money? Will you not at the very least help to feast the long-lost son? This, you see, gives you such an interest in a saved person. Those who are very observant tell us that those whom we serve may forget us, but those who do us a service are fast bound to us thereby. Many kindnesses you may do for people and they will be altogether ungrateful, but those who have bestowed the benefit do not forget. When the Lord Jesus sets us to help others it is partly that they may love us for what we have done, but still more that we may love them because we have rendered them a benefit. Is there any love like the love of a mother to her child? Is it not the strongest affection on earth? Why does a mother love her child? Did the little child ever render a pennyworth of service to the mother? Certainly not. It is the mother that does everything for the child. So then the Lord binds us to the new converts in love by permitting us to help them. Thus is the church made all of a piece and woven together from the top throughout by the workmanship of love. O you who are devoid of love it is evident that you do not labour with pure desire to benefit others, for if you did you would be filled with affection for them.

Ere we leave this point of seasonable assistance, let us ask-why should we remove these grave-clothes? It is enough reply that the Lord has bidden us do so. He commands us to “Loose him, and let him go.” He bids us comfort the feeble-minded and support the weak. If he commands it we need no other reason. I hope, my dear friends, you will set to work at once, for the King’s business requireth haste, and we are traitors if we delay.

We should do this because it is very possible that we helped to bind those grave-clothes upon our friend. Some of the people who were at Bethany that day had assisted in the burial of Lazarus, and surely those should loose Lazarus who helped to bind him. Many a Christian man before his conversion has helped to make sinners worse by his example, and possibly after his conversion he may by his indifference and want of zeal have aided in binding new converts in the bonds of doubt and sorrow. At any rate, you have said of many a person, “He will never be saved!” Thus you have wrapped him in grave-clothes; the Lord never told you to do that-you did it of your own accord; and now that he bids you remove those graveclothes, will you not be quick to do it?

I remember when somebody lent a hand to take the grave-clothes off from me, and therefore I desire to loose the grave-clothes of others. If we cannot repay what we owe to the precise individual who wrought us good, we can at least repay it by working for the general benefit of seekers. “There,” said a benevolent man, as he gave help to a poor man, “take that money, and when you can pay it back give it to the next man whom you meet who is in the same plight as yourself, and tell him he is to pay it to another destitute person as soon as he can afford it; and so my money will go travelling on for many a day.” That is how our Lord does: he sends a brother to loose my bonds; then I am helped to set another free, and he releases a third, and so on to the world’s end. God grant that you and I may not be negligent in this heavenly service.

Lastly, a practical hint. If the Lord Jesus Christ employed the disciples in relieving Lazarus of his grave-clothes, do you not think he would employ us if we were ready for such work? Yonder is Paul: the Lord Jesus has struck him down; but the lowly Ananias must visit him and baptize him, that he may receive his sight. There is Cornelius: he has been seeking the Lord, and the Lord is gracious to him, but he must first hear Peter. There is a wealthy Ethiopian riding in his chariot, and he is reading the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, but he cannot understand it till Philip comes. Lydia has an opened heart, but only Paul can lead her to the Lord Jesus. Innumerable are the instances of souls blessed by human instrumentality; but I shall conclude by calling attention to one passage upon which I wish to dwell for a second or two.

When the prodigal came home, the father did not say to one of his servants, “Go and meet him,”-No; we read “when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck and kissed him.” He did all this himself. The father personally forgave him, and restored him; but we read further on “the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry.” The loving father might have done all this himself might he not? Oh yes, but then he desired that all the servants in the house should be of one accord with him in the joyful reception of his son. The great Lord could do everything for a sinner himself, but he does not do so because he wishes all of us to be in fellowship with him. Come, fellow-servants, bring forth the best robe. I am never happier then when I preach the righteousness of Christ, and try to put it upon the sinner. “What!” cries one, “you cannot put it on!” So the parable says-“Bring forth the best robe and put it on him.” I not only bring it out and show it; but by the Holy Spirit’s help I try to put it on the sinner. I hold it up before him, just as you hold up a friend’s great-coat to help him to put it on. You have to guide the poor sinner’s hand into the sleeve, and lift it up upon his shoulders or he might never get it on. You are to teach him, comfort him, cheer him, and, in fact, help him to be dressed like one of the family. Then the ring, can we not bring it forth? Surely the father should have put the ring upon his son’s hand. No, he bids his servants do that. He cries to them, “Put a ring on his hand”; introduce him into fellowship, gladden him with the communion of saints. You and I must conduct the new convert into the joys of Christian society, and let him know what it is to be married unto Christ, and joined unto his people. We must put honour upon these reclaimed ones, and decorate those who once were degraded. Nor must we fail to put shoes on his feet! He has a long journey to go; he is to be a pilgrim, and we must help to shoe him with the preparation of the gospel of peace. His feet are new in the Lord’s ways: we must show him how to run on the Master’s errands. As for the fatted calf, it is ours to feed the restored ones; and as for the music and the dancing, it is ours to make the hearts of penitents glad by rejoicing over them. There is plenty to be done: O my brethren, try and do some of it this morning. Certain among us will be looking after an enquirer as soon as the service is over, and they will try to put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. I wish that more of you did this; but if you cannot do so within these Tabernacle walls, do it when you get home. Commence a holy ministry for the converted who are not yet brought into liberty. There are children of God who have not yet a shoe to their feet; there are plenty of shoes in the house, but no servant has put them on. When I come to look, I see some brethren who have not the ring on their hand. Oh, that I might have the privilege of putting it on! I charge you, brethren, by the blood that bought you, and by the love that holds you, and by the supreme bounty which supplies your need, go forth and do what your Master graciously permits and commands you to do; loose Lazarus, bring forth the best robe and put it on him, put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and let us all eat and be merry with our Father. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-John 11:1-46.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-176, 251, 35 (Ver I.)