David was surrounded with many wicked and cruel enemies. They touched him in a tender place when they mocked his religion, and so turned his glory into shame. They invented all kinds of lies against him; but the worst of all was that they said, “There is no help for him in God.” As much as to say, “God hath cast him off; therefore, let men cast him off. He that is forsaken of the Lord is not fit to sit upon the throne of Israel; let us set up Absalom in his place.” This was malice indeed.

David first made his appeal to God in prayer. Herein he showed his wisdom. You can drive a better business at the mercy-seat than in the world’s jangling markets. You will get more relief from the righteous Lord than from ungodly men. To enter into debate is never so profitable as to enter into devotion. Carry not your complaint into the lower courts, but go at once to the Court of King’s Bench, whore the Judge of all presides. Copy David, and David’s Lord, who in the days of his flesh with strong crying and tears poured out his soul before the Father.

After David had prayed, he expostulated with his adversaries. The first showed his sonship towards God, the second his brotherliness towards men. There is nothing of bitterness in the words I have read to you: they have a kindly voice in them. If his foes had been at all reasonable, they would have listened to his pleadings; but it is to be feared they were otherwise minded. He urges them to cease from sin, and he teaches them the way to do so. In four sentences he helps them to escape from their evil ways, and to become better men. Had God’s Spirit applied David’s words to their consciences, they would have been pricked in their hearts, and there would have been no need for them to be smitten on the cheek-bone, that their cruel teeth might be broken. Upon these four precepts I would speak this morning as the Holy Spirit shall give me utterance, trusting, hoping, believing that many who desire a better life may find it while I speak. May God begin with them, that they may begin with God! I have no confidence in my own persuasions; yet, being called to use them, I trust in him that sent me to make them effectual.

David mentions four things as helpful towards ceasing from sinning. The first is, feel reverent awe: “Stand in awe, and sin not.” The second is, use thoughtful self-examination: “Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still.” The third advice is, make a right approach to God-“Offer the sacrifice of righteousness”: and the fourth is the greatest of them all: exercise faith-“Put your trust in the Lord.” Here are four stepping stones across the filthy slough of sin; may you mark them well, and step from one to the other by the help of God’s Spirit, till you reach the other shore, and stand on safe and clean ground!

First, feel reverent awe: “Stand in awe.” It might be translated, “Tremble, and sin not.” Hardened sinners sin, and tremble not; penitent sinners tremble, and sin not. Gracious work in the heart usually begins with trembling. I cannot believe a man has been saved if he has never trembled before God because of the evil of sin. The old house of depraved nature shakes before it comes down. The returning prodigal must feel, “I am not worthy to be called thy son,” or he will never be called a son. He seeks his father’s face with much trembling, because he has so grievously offended.

Awe is not a common emotion nowadays. This is a flippant age. Men are rather triflers than tremblers. If there be any doctrine which has peculiar weight and solemnity about it, they try to pare it down to less terrible proportions. Sin is not exceeding sinful to them, nor its punishment exceeding terrible. They would not have us know the terrors of the Lord, though by these very terrors we persuade men. But true religion must have a savour of awe about it: “My heart standeth in awe of thy word,” is the expression of one that knows God, and is reconciled to him. Let me say, then, to you who have been thoughtless and careless about your souls until now-we earnestly desire you to consider these words: “Stand in awe.”

Remember, there is a God: whatever you may desire, or others may declare, there is a God who made you, and in whose hand your breath is. There is a God that sitteth in heaven, who beholdeth all the sons of men; and however much you may dislike the thought, there he is, and there he ever will be, and you will have to deal with him, and he with you, before long.

God is everywhere present, at all times. He has seen all your evil ways, and heard all your hard speeches. No night is so dark as to hide from his eye; no chamber so retired as to shut him out. He has even read your thoughts and imaginations. He notes all, and forgets nothing. All things are ever present to him; the days of your youth and the years of your manhood lie open before him like a book. If men could but realize that God is there, how could they dare to sin before his very eyes? If at this moment any one of my hearers who is without Christ could only be filled with this one thought, “Thou God seest me,” surely he would stand in awe, and at least desire to sin no more. Well may the preacher speak very solemnly when he feels that he is surrounded with God, and that God is within him as well as around him! Well may his hearer tremble if he feels that all his thoughts are at this moment read by God! Stand in awe, I pray you, of God, who is now filling this house, and is in your own houses. Will you sin in God’s presence? Can you blaspheme him to his face? Will you disobey him while his eyes are fixed upon you? I pray you stand in awe of the eternal God, in whom you live, and move, and have your being!

Remember that this God, who is everywhere, and sees everything, is your Judge. He is pure and holy, and cannot bear iniquity. He is angry with the wicked every day, and will surely visit them for their transgressions. Every sinful act shall have its recompense of reward. Do not doubt it. The world is all in a tangle now, but there will be a day when the Lord will draw out a straight thread for each man. To-day the wicked prosper, but God will turn their way upside down; and though the righteous be often under a cloud, he will bring forth their judgment as the noonday. Men respect an earthly judge; therefore, I pray you, stand in awe of the Judge of all the earth.

Do not forget also that your God is almighty. He has but to will it, and the strongest of us would be crushed more easily than a moth. There is no escaping from the Lord; neither the heights of Carmel nor the depths of the sea could afford shelter for a fugitive from the Lord. Neither can any resist him, for none have any power apart from him. You have heard his thunder, and trembled at the bolts of his lightning; behold how dreadful is God in arms! How dare you sin against a God so great? Stand in awe. Even holy Job, when he came near to the Lord, exclaimed, “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” How can you feel him near and not be filled with awe?

Stand in awe of God because he is infinitely good. To me personally, some little time ago, the Lord drew very near in a most special and memorable providence. As I saw the hand of the Lord stretched out so marvellously, I felt my very flesh creep, not with alarm, but with a joyful awe of One who could work so tenderly and condescendingly for his tried servant. I knew that he was God by his marvellously gracious care over me, and nearness to my soul in adversity. Verily Jehovah is God, and a great King above all gods. He is to be had in reverence of them that are round about him. I know now why Jacob said at Bethel, “How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” He was filled with a holy dread and solemn awe because God had been so near. I therefore say to you-stand in awe of God, because he is infinitely great and good. The illustration which I quoted from my own personal experience, I could not withhold, because it is, even at this hour one of the most vivid recollections of my life. God has dealt with me very graciously. Oh, his great goodness! A sense of it is overwhelming. We fear and tremble for all the goodness which the Lord makes to pass before us. Think of sin forgiven, of righteousness imputed, of spiritual life imparted, of that life preserved, supplied, nurtured. Think of providence with all mindful foresight, and abounding supplies. The love of God should make us reverent as angels, and humble as penitents. If the impudence of pride might dare to insult justice, yet it should scorn to injure love. There is forgiveness with God, that he may be feared: his grace, if not his glory, should command the reverence of the most obdurate hearts. I pray you stand in awe of God, and sin not. If thoughts of this kind could but dwell in men’s minds, they would surely perceive that sin is a great wrong to the Lord, and they would flee from it, crying like Joseph, “How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?”

My dear hearers, stand in awe in reference to a future state. You do not doubt the truth which the Holy Spirit has revealed, that when you die you will not cease to be. There will be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and of the unjust: “for we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ.” Oh, that all persons would remember this wherever they go! I have heard of a soldier-I think he was employed in the survey of Palestine-who was in the valley of Jehoshaphat, outside Jerusalem, and someone remarked that it was reported by some that this valley would be the scene of the last judgment, and in that place the multitudes would be gathered. The soldier, hearing this, said, “What a crowd there will be! I shall be there, and I will sit on this stone.” He sat down to realize the scene, and his imagination acted so powerfully that he seemed to himself to be among the throng, and to behold the great white throne. He was seen to swoon, and fall to the ground. Do you wonder? If any one of us could, in our inmost souls, behold that scene, should we not be overcome? I wish I could so speak this morning that some of you would picture that last tremendous day, for which all other days were made. Behold that dies iræ, that day of wrath, that day when justice will sit upon the throne! Behold it by anticipation, for it will soon be upon you in very deed. As surely as you live, you will live again: and for every act on earth you must give an account in that last assize. Trifle not, for the Judge is at the door. We may hear his trumpets before this day is over. Let not this thought be driven from you; rather welcome it, and let it abide in your minds: if you were to think of nothing else for a time you might be justified, since it is of such overwhelming importance that you prepare for your final state. Shall a man live and never think of the end of life? Can a man think it wise to occupy himself with frivolities throughout the whole of his earthly existence? While he is shaping his eternal condition, will he do nothing else but sport? Will he never think of that day when his position shall be fixed by the verdict of the great Judge? O my dear hearers, do not forget that you have to live in a future state, and that you will see him who died upon the cross, seated on the throne, in that day when all nations shall be gathered before him, and he shall divide them, the one from the other, as the shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats. May the thought of the eternal reward also rest on your minds! Hear ye, even now, that word of the King to the righteous-“Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” Hear, also, that dread sentence to those on his left hand, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” Oh, think of these things, and “stand in awe, and sin not”! This awe is one of the strongest moral disinfectants: use it largely. There is no fear of your having too much of it. He that has no fear of God before his eyes sins with a high hand, but awe of the Lord leads to purity of life.

In the second place, David admonished the ungodly to practise thoughtful self-examination. “Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still.”

I am not trying, my dear hearer, to preach a sermon this morning, but I am longing to take you by the hand, and to lead you in the right way. I pray the Holy Spirit to make you willing to follow my gentle guidance. My dear friend, you are now asked to think about yourself-“commune with your own heart.” When once men choose the way of evil, they run in it with their eyes shut. They do not wish to consider; it is easier to go blindly on. They will think about their worldly concerns, their profits and losses, their pleasures and amusements; but they refuse seriously to consider their condition before God. O my friend, think of what you are, and where you are, what you have done, what you are doing, what it will all lead to! Are you such a fool that you will not consider? Then put on the cap and bells, and wear motley, and take to your proper trade. And yet, even if you were a merry-andrew, it would become you sometimes to be wise as well as merry, and to take a look into the future, lest you have to take a leap in the dark at last.

Especially think of the state of your heart. This is the vital point. Are you right with God? Do you serve your Maker? Have you truly repented of former sin? Have you fled to Christ as your refuge? Have you been born again? Are you the subject of sanctifying grace? “Commune with your own heart” upon these essential points. He that would have his face clean must look in a glass to see his spots; and he that would have his heart clean must gaze into the looking-glass of God’s Word, that he may discover his secret faults. Your heart may be diseased while your cheek seems ruddy with health. Look within you, man, and be not deceived as to the fountain of your being. Have you really passed from death to life? Does the Spirit of God of a truth dwell in you? Such questions as these are all-important; I pray you answer them as before the living God, without partiality or negligence.

Think by yourself, alone, and in quiet. Oh, how I wish I could induce you to spend an hour or two closeted with yourself! “Commune with your own heart upon your bed,” at that time when companions are out of the way; when the jest is silenced, and the common talk is hushed. Get by yourself, when you think of yourself, or it will be an impossible task. Choose the hour of night, when all is still around you, and darkness lends its solemnity. You can forego a little natural sleep, if thereby you may be aroused from the sleep of spiritual death. The bed and sleep are instructive emblems of the grave and death: they may aid you in the serious work of examining your hearts. Remember that, as you put off your clothes and go to your bed, so you must put off your body and quit the scene of life’s activities: are you ready for that undressing? Make your bed the place of your contrition, even as David did when he said, “All the night make I my bed to swim.” The earth outside has its dews, let your heart have its tears.

Think by yourself, of yourself, and then think for yourself. You have been carried away by your companions; you have tried to think as they think. The general opinion of the age may have influenced you towards indifference. With a family round about you, you have looked at things too much in the light of business and personal benefit; but all this it will be wise to lay aside. As you will have to die alone, and to put in a personal appearance at the judgment-seat of Christ, it will be prudent to divest yourself of your surroundings, and “commune with your own heart.” I commend this text most heartily to your immediate practice. If you are unsaved-think rather than sleep. The tendency of most men with regard to eternal things is to go to sleep, and let matters drift: I pray you do not so. I dare not let you take your rest while all is wrong with you. Sleep, if you like, in a house that is on a blaze; sleep, if you like, in a ship that is settling down, and rapidly sinking; but I charge you do not sleep while you are an unforgiven man, and your soul is nearing the eternal woe: “Commune with your own heart upon your bed”: use your bed for seeking instead of sleeping. I remember the time when I dared not go to sleep, for fear I might wake up in hell. Many when under conviction of sin have at length resolved not to sleep until they found Christ. I wish that some such feeling as that would steal over you at this moment.

Keep on thinking till you come to be still. “Commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still.” Do you know what that means? There comes a time with men whom God is saving when all grows quiet within them. Their old pleasures and desires are hushed; the voice of the outside world is still, and they hear in the silence of their souls “the still small voice” of conscience. Oh, that you were at this moment still enough to hear that warning note! Memory also commences her rehearsals: it tells of the past, and brings forgotten things before the soul. Oh, that all of you would remember and bethink yourselves that God requireth that which is past. Best of all, God speaks in the soul. It was at night, when young Samuel was on his bed, that the Lord said to him, “Samuel, Samuel”; and it is when the heart at last has grown still that God’s voice of mercy is heard calling to the man by name. Oh, that in such a case you may have grace to answer, “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth”!

I beseech you, give yourselves space for thought, before thought becomes the worm of eternal misery to you. Remember, before you hear that voice from heaven which spoke to the rich man in hell, and said to him, “Son, remember.” Ye slaves of fashion and frivolity, think, I pray you! Ye serfs of daily money-grubbing, rest a while, and hear what God the Lord shall speak to you! You can hardly hear the great bell of St. Paul’s when the traffic is thundering around, but it sounds solemnly in the stillness of night. We who live in the more remote suburbs hear Big Ben of Westminster at night, but we seldom note it amid the stir and noise of the day. Do give an opportunity for the eternal voices to pierce the clamours of the hour. Do, for God’s sake, and for your soul’s sake, hear what wisdom teaches concerning everlasting things! O Lord, give grace to my dear hearers, that they may consider their ways, and turn unto thy statutes!

Very briefly, let us note that David gives a third piece of advice, which in essence means approach unto God aright-“Offer the sacrifices of righteousness.”

Now, I do not quite know what David himself may have intended by it, but this is how I interpret it. Come to God; come to God in his own way; come as Israel came to the Tabernacle in the wilderness, bringing their sacrifices with them.

When they brought their sacrifices, the first thing they did was to lay their hand on the victim, and make a confession of sin. Come, then, with broken and contrite hearts unto the Lord. “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit.” Own your shortcomings and transgressions. Do not cloak or excuse your sins. Get to your chamber, and tell the Lord what you have done. Pour out your hearts before him: turn them upside down, as it were, and let all flow out, even to the dregs. Confess your pride and unbelief, your Sabbath-breaking, your dishonesty, your falsehood, your disobedience to parents, your every breach of the divine law; whatsoever you have done amiss, confess it before him, and thus go to him in the only way in which he can receive you, even as sinners owning your guilt.

Go also to the Lord with gracious desires to be rid of sin. Entreat reconciliation, saying, “I would no longer be what I have been. I throw down the weapons of my rebellion, I pluck out the plumes of my pride; O Lord, I stand before thee, guilty, and I pray thee forgive me, and then rid me of the tyrant evils which now rule me so terribly! Oh, that I may sin no more! If I have been a drunkard, help me from this day to relinquish the intoxicating cup; if I have been a swearer, wash out my mouth; may I, henceforth, speak nothing but that which will be acceptable to thee! If I have been unchaste, cleanse my mind, that I may keep my body pure!” In this way come to God with contrite hearts. How much do I long that you may draw nigh to God with true repentance and hearty resolves to conquer sin!

The main thing, however, is to bring unto the Lord the offering which he has divinely appointed and provided. You know what that is. There is one sacrifice of righteousness without which you cannot be accepted. Come to God by faith in Jesus Christ, plead the precious blood of atonement, and say, “My Lord, for his dear sake who died upon the tree, receive thy wanderer, and now be pleased to grant me that repentance and remission of sins which he is exalted to give.” My hearers, am I talking so as to reach your hearts? If not, I do not want to talk any longer. I had far rather be silent lest I minister to your condemnation. Hearts that have forgotten your Lord till now, oh, may his Spirit constrain you to return to him this day through the sacrifice of Jesus! If you come through Christ, you will never be cast out. The Father will receive any sinner that pleads the name of Jesus; and Jesus is willing that you should plead his name. He died on purpose to be the propitiation for our sins: God grant that you may accept him as such!

Come to your God: this is the great necessity of the hour. Say, “I will arise, and go to my father.” If the prodigal had said, “I will arise, and go to my brother,” he would have made a great mistake, for the elder brother would have shut the door in his face. Even if his brother had been of a kinder sort, he could not have forgiven the transgressor: his father alone could do that. Come, then, to your God with earnest prayer; for it prevails with heaven. Come also with humble praise; for it is much that you are yet alive, and not yet cast into the pit. Come to your God and Father, with the resolve henceforth to render him your life’s service, saying, “O Lord our God, other lords beside thee have had dominion over us: but by thee only will we make mention of thy name!”

I must now close with the fourth point, which is, in some respects, the most important of all: exercise faith. When holy awe and thoughtful self-communion have led us to seek the Lord, then we are prepared for the great precept which follows. It is the command of the gospel in its Old Testament form: “Put your trust in the Lord.” In whom should a man trust but in his God? It may seem reasonable to trust our fellow-creature; but, alas! man is a frail thing, and to lean upon him ensures a fall; it is, therefore, unreasonable to trust in the creature, but to rely upon the Creator is the dictate of pure reason. May God, the Holy Ghost, lead you at once to a childlike faith in our faithful God!

“Put your trust in the Lord.” First, trust him as willing to receive you, to forgive you, to accept you, and to bless you. Are you despairing? Do you say, “There is no hope”? “Put your trust in the Lord.” Are you saying, “I am without strength, and, therefore, cannot be saved”? Why not? “Put your trust in the Lord.” Does the evil one say that God will not receive you? “Put your trust in the Lord,” who is infinitely gracious, and full of compassion. He saith, “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live.” Surely, you may trust in him whose mercy endureth for ever.

Especially trust in the Lord as he reveals himself in the person of his Son Jesus Christ. In him you see love written out in capital letters. “Put your trust in the Lord” as having provided the one sacrifice for sin, whereby he has put away for ever all the sins of those who believe in him. God is just, and the justifier of him that believeth. Believe that the precious blood can make you whiter than snow, scarlet sinner as you are. Come with that daring trust which ventures all upon the bare promise of a faithful God. Say, “I will go in unto the King, and if I perish I perish.” If you do not trust in Christ, you must be lost; therefore come and try the divine way of salvation. The Lord Jesus is God’s unspeakable gift, freely bestowed on all who by faith receive him. Dare to grasp what God holds out to you as the one hope of your spirit. Put your trust in the Lord, I beseech you. By his agony and bloody sweat, by his cross and passion, by his precious death and burial, by his glorious resurrection and ascension, I entreat you to trust the Son of God, who has once appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.

Trust in the Lord, next, that by the work of his Holy Spirit he can renew you. The glorious Lord, who made the world out of nothing, can make something out of you yet. If you are given to anger, the Holy Spirit can make you calm and loving. If you have been defiled with impurity, he can make you pure in heart. If you have been grovelling, he can elevate you. I may be addressing a forlorn man, who thinks that nothing can be made of him. I tell you, you have no idea what God can do with you. He can put heavenly treasure in earthen vessels. He can set you at last among the heavenly choristers, that your voice, sweeter than that of angels, may be heard amongst their everlasting symphonies. He will even here put you among the children, and set you with the princes of his people. Believe that the Holy Ghost can create you anew, can raise you from your dead condition, and can make you perfect in every good work to do his will. Put your trust in the Lord for this.

In fine, “Put your trust in the Lord” for everything. Poor sinner, when you begin to trust God, you will look to him mainly to put away your sin; but when that boon is received, you may go on to trust him about all your affairs. You may look to him concerning your poverty, your sickness, your bereavements, your children, your business; you may trust him for time, and trust him for eternity; trust him about little things, trust him about great things. Once under the shadow of his wings you are covered altogether; nothing is left out in the cold. To trust in God is to be your perpetual business, “For the just shall live by faith.”

My closing theme is this-it has been asserted by certain of the modern school that we preach up salvation by a simple intellectual operation-salvation by merely believing a certain doctrinal statement. This is their way of stating, or mis-stating, justification by faith, which we do assuredly preach, and preach most distinctly and confidently. We are not responsible for their caricatures of our teaching, but we would be moved thereby to be more and more explicit. As far as faith is an intellectual operation, it is simple enough; but simple faith is no trifle. Fire is a simple element, but it has a measureless power. Connected with faith there are forces of the mightiest kind for influencing character and purifying life. Faith is the surest of all sin-killers: in fact, its tendency is to extirpate sin. The moral and spiritual change which accompanies faith, and grows out of it, is of the most remarkable kind. Faith’s work in the soul is something to be wondered at, and to be admired to all eternity.

For, mark, when a man believes in the Lord Jesus Christ, when he believes that Jesus so died for him that he is effectually redeemed, when he believes that the Lord Jesus has cleansed him, and that he is saved, the result upon his heart and life cannot be common-place. So divine a persuasion operates upon his whole nature. He is filled with adoring gratitude, and that gratitude breeds an intense love, which fervent love sets itself to work for the glory of God by the purification of the soul for sin. “My Jesus died because of my sin,” says the pardoned sinner, “therefore no sin shall abide in my heart. Away, O sin! Away, for ever.” Some favourite sin cries, “Let me lodge within thee,” but he cries, “It cannot be, for I love Jesus.” Sin slew our Saviour; how can we be on friendly terms with it? We hate it with perfect hatred. Sin pleadeth, “Is it not a little one?” But the grateful heart sees great evil in a little sin, since the great Father abhors all iniquity. If the little sin was not the spear which pierced the Lord, it helped to make the thorn-crown which tore his blessed brow, and therefore away with it, away with it.

“The dearest idol I have known,

Whate’er that idol be,

Help me to tear it from its throne,

And worship only thee.”

Nothing creates more indignation and revenge against sin than a grateful sense of “free grace and dying love.” Surely this is no mean help towards moral purification.

Faith in God is effective for the noblest ends upon the soul because it elevates the mind. The man who is hoping to be saved by his own works and efforts begins on earth and ends there; but the habit of looking up to God is in itself a blessing. It is something to have learned to look beyond this dunghill of fallen humanity, in which no one will ever find a pearl. It is something, I say, to wait upon God because your expectation is from him. Trust in the sacred Trinity teaches us to be familiar with higher and better things than we can find in ourselves, or in this poor world. A hold of heaven is a help towards drawing us there. I find that those who do not put their trust in the Lord are by no means spiritual men, nor men whose conversation is in heaven; but the faith which they despise puts our foot on that ladder the top of which reaches up to God.

Faith in God brings new ideas of God’s demands. When we do not know God, we read his law, and judge it to be harsh. “This is too strict; this is too holy. How can we obey this hard law?” But when we have faith in God, we correct our estimate, and judge that these laws of our heavenly Father are all meant for our good. He only forbids what would harm us, and he only commands what is most truly for our benefit. By faith we look upon the law as a loving directory-a chart of life’s voyage showing what channel to follow, and what rock to avoid. “His commandments are not grievous.” He takes from us no real pleasure, and imposes no crushing burden. To form so much better an estimate of God’s law is a great moral change, is it not? Must it not greatly affect the man’s behaviour?

The man who puts his trust in the Lord sees the pleasures of sin in a new light; for he sees the evil which follows on them, by noting the agonies which they brought upon our Lord, when he bare our sins in his own body on the tree. Without faith a man says to himself, “This sin is a very pleasant thing, why should I not enjoy it? Surely I may eat this fruit, which looks so charming, and is so much to be desired.” The flesh sees honey in the drink, but faith at once perceives that there is poison in the cup. Faith spies the snake in the grass, and gives warning of it. Faith remembers death, judgment, the great reward, the just punishment, and that dread word-eternity. Faith sees the end as well as the beginning. Faith, while the feast is going on, reminds the revellers of the reckoning. Faith feels that she cannot buy the transient joys of earth at the countless cost of an immortal soul. “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”

Faith destroys the power of temptation. When Satan says, “You are in trouble, and here is an easy way of escape: only do a little wrong, and you will get a great good.” “No,” says faith, “it is God’s business to get me out of my trouble, and I will not go to the devil for his aid.” “Ah!” says Satan, “everybody else does so!” Faith answers, “I have to do with nobody but God, and that which is right.” Ah, brethren! if Satan should offer us all the kingdoms of this world if we would do his bidding, true faith would baffle him by saying, “What canst thou offer me? I have all these things already; for all things are mine in Christ Jesus my Lord.” When faith is in its true place, covering the believer, all the wicked suggestions of the evil one are caught upon it and quenched by it, like fiery darts which fall upon a shield. We are preserved from temptation by the buckler of faith.

Moreover, faith is always attended with a new nature. That is a point never to be forgotten. No man has faith in God of a true kind unless he has been born again. Faith in God is one of the first indications of regeneration. Now, if you have a new and holy nature, you are no longer moved towards sinful objects as you were before. The things that you once loved you now hate, and, therefore, you will not run after them. You can hardly understand it, but so it is, that your thoughts and tastes are totally changed. You long for that very holiness which once it was irksome to hear of, and you loathe those very pursuits which were once your delights. When the Lord renews us it is not half done; it is a total and radical change. If there were no work of the Holy Spirit connected with faith, and if faith were nothing more than human assent to truth, we might be blameworthy for preaching salvation through it; but since faith leads the van in the graces of the Spirit of God, and turns the rudder of the soul, we are more and more concerned to place faith where God places it, and we say without hesitation, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” Remember you will thus be saved from the power of sin, and from the practice of sin by being saved from the love of sin. O brothers and sisters, I am not afraid to preach to you justification by faith alone! Look to Jesus and live! I would bid the sinner come to Jesus just as he is, and take him to be his complete salvation. We do not preach to you the hope of going to heaven, and yet keeping your sins: indeed, till sin is quitted, there can be no heaven. Our Lord Jesus has opened a hospital, and into it he receives all manner of sick folk; yet he does not receive them that they may continue sick, but that he may heal them, and make them whole. He receives the sinful that he may make them holy. He saves men by changing their natures, and infusing into them a heavenly life. Come, then, ye leprous in heart, come ye to him whose touch can make you clean! Come, ye with withered limbs, incapable of holy exercise: he can, with a word, restore you! Come hither, ye blind, for he will give you sight! Yea, rise, ye dead, for he shall give you life! Repentance and remission are twin gifts which he is exalted to bestow. Come ye now to him, and receive out of his fulness!

The thought of death is constantly forced upon me by the largeness of this congregation, and the fact that there seldom passes a week but what some one among you is taken away. Soon your bodies will lie beneath the greensward, and your souls will be in the eternal state. In due time you will stand where your past will be revived; for the books shall be opened, and you will be judged out of the things which are written in those books. What a record you have written within the Book of remembrance, to be road aloud in that day! Oh, ye ungodly ones, what will you then do? Christ-rejecting sinner, how will you bear to hear those items read before the assembled world? If from this pulpit I were to read out certain incidents of your past lives, I do not suppose you would get up to go out, for that would convict you; but you would want to go very badly. How, then, will you endure to have your sins laid bare by the hand of God, while every eye beholds them? How will you bear that shame and everlasting contempt which will be the result of your true character being blazoned abroad? How infinitely good it will be if all your past offences shall be blotted out! How joyful to be wholly absolved by the Lord of pardons! If by believing in Christ Jesus you receive a change of nature, and live a different life, and stand at the last day accepted in the Beloved, what bliss it will be! What joy will be yours when Jesus comes, when his smile shall light up the universe, and when he shall acknowledge you before the angels of God! You were with him in his humiliation, you shall be with him in his exaltation; you loved him and served him here below, you shall sit upon his throne, and reign with him for ever and ever. Ah! then, whatever little you may have suffered for his sake will be as nothing in comparison with the exceeding weight of glory. Whatever struggling of heart and pain of soul you felt in escaping from the sin which enthralled you will be your joy when the result is seen in your eternal perfection. The bliss of beholding the face of our Beloved will be heaven enough for us. Even now I feel eager to quit this feeble body at the bare thought of being with the Bridegroom of my soul.

“Mine eyes shall see him in that day,

The God that died for me;

And all my rising bones shall say,

Lord, who is like to thee?”

May you and I behold our Redeemer when he shall stand in the latter day upon the earth! Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon-Psalms 3 and 4.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-18 (Vers. III.), 588, 525.

PETER’S RESTORATION

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, July 22nd, 1888, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington

“And immediately, while he yet spake, the cock crew. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And Peter went out, and wept bitterly.”-Luke 22:60-62.

Peter had terribly fallen. He had denied his Master, denied him repeatedly, denied him with oaths, denied him in his presence, while his Master was being smitten and falsely charged; denied him, though he was an apostle; denied him, though he had declared that should all men forsake him, yet would he never be offended. It was a sad, sad sin. Remember what led up to it. It was, first, Peter’s presumption and self-confidence. He reckoned that he could never stumble, and for that very reason he speedily fell. A haughty spirit goes before a fall. Oh, that we might look to the roots of bitter flowers, and destroy them! If presumption is flourishing in the soil of our hearts to-day, we shall soon see the evil fruit which will come of it. Reliance upon our firmness of character, depth of experience, clearness of insight, or matureness in grace, will, in the end, land us in disgraceful failure. We must either deny ourselves, or we shall deny our Lord; if we cleave to self-confidence, we shall not cleave to him.

Immediately, Peter’s denial was owing to cowardice. The brave Peter in the presence of a maid was ashamed; he could not bear to be pointed out as a follower of the Galilean. He did not know what might follow upon it; but he saw his Lord without a friend, and felt that it was a lost cause, and he did not care to avow it. Only to think that Peter, under temporary discouragement, should play the coward! Yet cowardice treads upon the heels of boasting: he that thinks he can fight the world will be the first man to run away.

His sin also arose from his want of watchfulness. His Master had said to him, “What, could ye not watch with me one hour?” and no doubt there was more meaning in the words than appeared on the surface. The Lord several times said to him, “Pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” The words were repeated with deep impressiveness, for they were greatly needed. But Peter had not watched: he had been warming his hands. He did not pray: he felt too strong in himself to be driven to special prayer. Therefore, when the gusts of temptation came, they found Peter’s boat unprepared for the storm, and they drove it upon a rock.

When Peter first denied his Master a cock crew. Peter must have heard that crowing, or he would not have communicated the fact to the evangelists who recorded it. But though he heard it, he was an example of those who have ears, but hear not. One would have thought that the warning would have touched his conscience; but it did not; and when the cock crowed a second time, after he had committed three denials, it might not have awakened him from his dreadful sleep if a higher instrumentality had not been used, namely, a look from the Lord Jesus.

God keep us free from this spirit of slumber, for it is to the last degree dangerous! Peter was under the direful influence of Satan, for it was a night wherein the powers of darkness were specially active. “This is your hour,” said Jesus, “and the power of darkness.” That same influence which assailed the Saviour unsuccessfully-for, said he, “the prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me”-assailed Peter with sad result; for the evil one had something in Peter, and he soon found it out. The sparks from Satan’s flint and steel fell upon our Lord as upon water; but Peter’s heart was like a tinder-box; and when the sparks fell, they found fuel there. Oh, that we may be kept from the assaults of Satan! “Lead us not into temptation” is a necessary prayer; but the next petition is specially noteworthy-“but deliver us from the evil one.” A man never gets anything out of the devil, even if he conquers him. You will find in combat with him that, even if you win the victory, you come off with gashes and wounds of which you will carry the scars to your grave. “All the while,” says Mr. Bunyan, while Christian was fighting with Apollyon, “I did note that he did not so much as give one smile.” Oh no! there is nothing to smile about when the arch-enemy is upon us. He is such a master of the cruel art of soul-wounding, that every stroke tells. He knows our weak places in the present, he brings to remembrance our errors in the past, and he paints in blackest colours the miseries of the future, and so seeks to destroy our faith. All his darts are fiery ones. It takes all a man’s strength, and a great deal more, to ward off his cunning and cruel cuts. The worst of it is that, as in Peter’s case, he casts a spell over men, so that they do not fight at all, but yield themselves an easy prey. Our Saviour said to Peter, “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.” Peter was as much under the power of Satan as corn is in the hand of the man who winnows it. He went up and down in that sieve like a helpless thing, and so passed from simple falsehood to plain denials of his Master with oaths and cursings.

I desire in this discourse to speak chiefly of Peter’s restoration. Peter was down; but he was soon up again. One writer says the story should rather be called Peter’s restoration than Peter’s fall. His fall was soon over: he was like a little child learning to walk, scarcely down before his mother has him up again. It was not a continuance in a sin, like that of David, who remained for months without repentance; but it was the quick speech of a man carried away by sudden temptation, and it was followed by a speedy repentance. Upon his restoration we are going to meditate.

It was brought about by two outward means. I like to think of the singular combination: the crowing of the cock, and a look from the Lord. When I come to preach to you, it almost makes me smile to think that God should save a soul through me. I may find a fit image of myself in the poor cock. Mine is poor crowing. But as the Master’s look went with the cock’s crowing, so, I trust, it will go with my feeble preaching. The next time you also go out to try and win a soul for Jesus, say to yourself, “I cannot do it: I cannot melt a hard, rebellious heart; but yet the Lord may use me; and if there come a happy conjunction of my feeble words with my Lord’s potent look, then the heart will dissolve in streams of repentance.” Crow away, poor bird: if Jesus looks whilst thou art crowing, thou wilt not crow in vain, but Peter’s heart will break. The two things are joined together, and let no man put them asunder-the commonplace instrumentality and the divine Worker. Christ has all the glory, and all the more glory because he works by humble means. I trust that there will be this morning a conjunction of the weakness of the preacher with the strength of the Holy Spirit; so that stony hearts may be broken and God glorified.

This morning, first, let us look at the Lord who looked; and secondly, let us look into the look which the Lord looked; and then, thirdly, let us look at Peter, upon whom the Lord looked. We will be all the while looking: may our Lord look upon us. May his Holy Spirit work with his holy word!

First, let us look at the Lord, who looked upon Peter.

Can you picture him up there in the hall, up yonder steps, before the high priest and the council? Peter is down below in the area of the house warming his hands at the fire. Can you see the Lord Jesus turning round and fixing his eyes intently upon his erring disciple? What see you in that look?

I see in that look, first, that which makes me exclaim: What thoughtful love! Jesus is bound, he is accused, he has just been smitten on the face, but his thought is of wandering Peter. You want all your wits about you when you are before cruel judges, and are called upon to answer false charges; you are the more tried when there is no man to stand by you, or bear witness on your behalf: it is natural, at such an hour, that all your thoughts should be engaged with your own cares and sorrows. It would have been no reproach had the thoughts of our Lord been concentrated on his personal sufferings; and all the less so because these were for the sake of others. But our blessed Master is thinking of Peter, and his heart is going out towards his unworthy disciple. That same influence which made his heart drive out its store of blood through every pore of his body in the bloody sweat now acted upon his soul, and drove his thoughts outward towards that member of his mystical body which was most in danger. Peter was thought of when the Redeemer was standing to be mocked and reviled. Blessed be his dear name, Jesus always has an eye for his people, whether he be in his shame or in his glory. Jesus always has an eye for those for whom he shed his blood. Though now he reigns in glory, he still looks steadily upon his own: his delight is in them, and his care is over them. There was not a particle of selfishness about our Saviour. “He saved others; himself he could not save.” He looked to others, but he never looked to himself. I see, then, in our Lord’s looking upon Peter, a wondrously thoughtful love.

I exclaim, next, What a boundless condescension! If our Lord’s eye had wandered that day upon “that other disciple” that was known to the high priest, or if he had even looked upon some of the servants of the house, we should not have been so astonished; but when Jesus turns, it is to look upon Peter, the man from whom we should naturally have turned away our faces, after his wretched conduct. He had acted most shamefully and cruelly, and yet the Master’s eye sought him out in boundless pity! If there is a man here who feels himself to be near akin to the devil, I pray the Lord to look first at him. If you feel as if you had sinned yourself out of the pale of humanity by having cast off all good things, and by having denied the Lord that bought you, yet still consider the amazing mercy of the Lord. If you are one of his, his pitying eye will find you out; for even now it follows you as it did Hagar, when she cried, “Thou God seest me.” But oh, the compassion of that look! When first I understood that the Lord looked on me with love in the midst of my sin, it did seem so wonderful! He whom the heavens adore, before whose sight the whole universe is stretched out as on a map, yet passes by all the glories of heaven that he may fix his tender gaze upon a wandering sheep, and may in great mercy bring it back again to the fold. For the Lord of glory to look upon a disciple who denies him is boundless condescension!

But then, again, what tender wisdom do I see here! “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter.” He knew best what to do: he did not speak to him, but looked upon him. He had spoken to Peter before, and that voice had called him to be a fisher of men; he had given Peter his hand before, and saved him from a watery grave when he was beginning to sink. But this time he gives him neither his voice nor his hand, but that which was equally effectual, and intensely suitable, he lent him his eye: “The Lord looked upon Peter.” How wisely doth Christ always choose the way of expressing his affection, and working our good! If he had spoken to Peter then, the mob would have assailed him, or at least the ribald crowd would have remarked upon the sorrow of the Master and the treachery of the disciple: our gracious Lord will never needlessly expose the faults of his chosen. Possibly no words could have expressed all that was thrown into that look of compassion. Why, brethren, a volume as big as a Bible is contained within that look of Jesus. I defy all the tongues and all the pens in the world to tell us all that our divine Lord meant by that look. Our Saviour employed the most prudent, the most comprehensive, the most useful method of speaking to the heart of his erring follower. He looked volumes into him. His glance was a divine hieroglyphic full of unutterable meanings, which it conveyed in a more clear and vivid way than words could have done.

As I think of that look again, I am compelled to cry out: What divine power is here! Why, dear friends, this look worked wonders. I sometimes preach with all my soul to Peter, and, alas! he likes my sermon and forgets it. I have known Peter read a good book full of most powerful pleading, and when he has read it through, he has shut it up and gone to sleep. I remember my Peter when he lost his wife, and one would have thought it would have touched him, and it did, with some natural feeling; yet he did not return to the Lord, whom he had forsaken, but continued in his backsliding. See, then, how our Lord can do with a look what we cannot do with a sermon, what the most powerful writer cannot do with hundreds of pages, and what affliction cannot do with even its heaviest stroke. The Lord looked, and Peter wept bitterly. I cannot help thinking with Isaac Williams that there is a majestic simplicity in the expressions here used-“The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter went out, and wept bitterly.” The passage reminds us of that first of Genesis: “And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.” As the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians, and troubled the Egyptians, so did he now look into Peter’s heart, and his thoughts troubled him. Oh, the power of the Lord Christ! If there was this power about him when he was bound before his accusers, what is his power now that he is able to save unto the uttermost them that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them? In that look there was divinity. The Son of God looked upon Peter: the text does not use the name Jesus, but it expressly says, “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter.” That divine look did the deed.

Let me beg you to note what sacred teaching is here. The teaching is of practical value, and should be at once carried out by the followers of Jesus. You, dear friend, are a Christian man or a Christian woman; you have been kept, by divine grace, from anything like disgraceful sin. Thank God it is so. I dare say, if you look within, you will find much to be ashamed of; but yet you have been kept from presumptuous and open sins. Alas! one who was once a friend of yours has disgraced himself: he was a little while ago a member of the church, but he has shamefully turned aside. You cannot excuse his sin; on the contrary, you are forced to feel great indignation against his folly, his untruthfulness, his wickedness. He has caused the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, and has done awful mischief to the cause of righteousness. Now I know what will be suggested to you. You will be inclined to cut his acquaintance, to disown him altogether, and scarcely to look at him if you meet him in the street. This is the manner of men, but not the manner of Jesus. I charge you, act not in so un-Christlike a manner. The Lord turned, and looked on Peter; will not his servants look on him? You are not perfect like your Lord; you are only a poor sinful creature like your fallen brother. What! are you too proud to look at the fallen one? Will you not give him a helping hand? Will you not try to bring him back? The worst thing you can do with a backslider is to let him keep on sliding back. Your duty should be your pleasure, and your duty is to “restore such a one in the spirit of meekness, remembering thyself also, lest thou also be tempted.” O brothers and sisters, it is a very little thing that has kept some of us from turning aside unto folly. One grain more and the scale would have turned in favour of a great fall. Our steps have well-nigh slipped. When we are proud of our sure standing, the Lord may well be angry with us for our vanity, and he may justly say, “How can I endure this pride? I have taken great care of this man, and watched over him to keep him out of sin, and now he takes the credit of it all, and plays the great man, and fancies that he will be defiled if he associates with my poor wandering children.” Which, think you, is worse in God’s sight, the sudden fall into sin, or the long-continued pride, which boasts itself in the presence of the Lord, and looks contemptuously upon erring ones? It is not my office to become a measurer of sins; but I would earnestly enforce this plain duty: since our own Lord and Master looked on backsliding Peter, let us seek out our wandering brethren.

One more lesson: observe what heavenly comfort is here: “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter”; yes, Jesus looks upon sinners still. The doctrine of God’s omniscience is far oftener set forth in a hard way than in a cheering way. Have you never heard a sermon from “Thou God seest me,” of which the pith was-Therefore tremble, and be afraid? That is hardly fair to the text; for when Hagar cried, “Thou God seest me,” it was because the Lord had interposed to help her, when she had fled from her mistress. It was comfort to her that there she also had looked after him that had looked upon her. There is a dark side to “Thou God seest me”; but it is not half so dark as it would be if God did not see us. It is true, O sinner, that God has seen your sin, and all the aggravations of it; but it is also true that as he sees your ruin, your misery, your sadness, he has compassion on you. He sees your sin that he may remove it, and make you clean in his sight. As the Lord looked upon Peter, so he looks upon you. He has not turned his back on you; he has not averted the gaze of his pity. He sees to the bottom of your heart, and reads all your thoughts. You have not to go about to find out God-he is looking upon you. “He is not far from every one of us”; he is within eyesight. You are to look to him; and if you do, your eyes will meet his eyes, for already he looks upon you.

I think we have gathered much from this brief look at the Lord who looked upon Peter. I doubt not that, had we more time and more insight, we should see greater things than these.

Now let us go on to the second point, and see whether we cannot gather still more instruction. Let us look into the look which the Lord gave to Peter. Help us again, most gracious Spirit!

That look was, first of all, a marvellous refreshment to Peter’s memory. “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter.” What a sight it must have been for Peter! Our dear Master’s face was that night all red from the bloody sweat. He must have appeared emaciated in body; his eyes weary with want of sleep, and his whole countenance the vision of grief. If ever a picture of the Man of Sorrows could have been drawn, it should have been taken at that moment when the Lord turned and looked upon Peter. By torchlight and the flickering flame of the fire in the court of the hall of Caiaphas Peter saw a vision which would never fade from his mind. He saw the man whom he loved as he had never seen him before. This was he who called him, when he was fishing, to become a fisher of men; this was he who bade him spread the net, and caused him to take an incredible quantity of fishes, insomuch that the boat began to sink, and he cried out, “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord”; this was he who had made him walk on the water, and at other times had rebuked the winds, and raised the dead. This was he with whom Peter had been upon the mount of transfiguration! Truly there was a wonderful change from the glistening whiteness of the mount to the ghastliness of that sad hour! Though the lineaments of that reverend face were distained with blood, yet Peter could tell that it was the selfsame Lord with whom he had enjoyed three years of intimate intercourse and tender unveiling. All this must in a moment have flashed upon poor Peter’s mind; and I do not wonder that in the recollection of it all he went out and wept bitterly. He did love his Lord; his denial was not of the heart, but of the tongue; and, therefore, as all the grounds of his faith came before his mind anew, his heart was broken into a thousand pieces with grief that he should have been false to such a friend. Yes, that look awoke a thousand slumbering memories, and all these called upon the sincere heart of Peter to repent of its ungenerous weakness.

Next, that turning of the Master was a special reminder of his warning words. Jesus did not say it in words, but he did more than say it by his look. “Ah, Peter! did not I tell you it would be so? You said, ‘Though all men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended.’ Did I not tell thee that before cock-crowing thou wouldst deny me thrice?” No rebuke was uttered; and yet the tender eye of the Lord had revealed to Peter his own extreme folly, and his Master’s superior wisdom. Now he saw his own character, and perceived his Lord’s discernment. It was a prophecy, and, like all other prophecies, it was understood after it was fulfilled. We read that “Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice.” It is clear, then, that our Lord’s look was a special reminder of his former words: it stirred up Peter’s mind by way of remembrance, and made him see how foolish he had been, and how inexcusable was his fault.

Surely it was, also, a moving appeal to Peter’s heart. I bade you notice just now, in the reading of the chapter, that this story of Peter is singularly interwoven into the narrative of our Saviour’s passion: it is so interwoven because it constitutes an essential part of that passion. We must not regard it as an accidental incident, it was part and parcel of that grief which he had to bear when he stood in our place and stead. It was written of old, “Smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered”; and this scattering of the sheep, of which Peter was a notable instance, was one of the bitter ingredients of our Redeemer’s mental anguish. “Lover and friend hast thou put far from me” is his complaint in the Psalm. When the Saviour showed himself to Peter with all those lines of grief upon his face, he seemed to say to him, “Canst thou deny me now? I am bound for thee, and dost thou deny me? I stand here to be adjudged to death for thee, and dost thou deny me? Now is the hour of mine agony, and dost thou deny me?” The Lord could not have looked at Peter without creating strong emotion in the breast of the weak disciple who now found himself in so sad a plight. That look touched very tender cords. There was no need for a single word of appeal: that look sufficed to stir the deeps of Peter’s nature.

What do you think that look chiefly said? My thought about it, as I turned it over, was this: when the Lord looked upon Peter, though he did refresh his memory, and make an appeal to his conscience, yet there was still more evidently a glorious manifestation of love. If I may be permitted humbly and reverently to read what was written on my Master’s face, I think it was this: “And yet I love thee, Peter, I love thee still! Thou hast denied me, but I look upon thee still as mine. I cannot give thee up. I have loved thee with an everlasting love, and, notwithstanding all thine ill-conduct towards me, I am looking for thee, and expecting to receive thee. I have not turned my back on thee. Behold, I look towards thee with tender regard, foreseeing that thou wilt yet serve me, and prove the truth of thy devotion to me. Despair not, O Peter, for I will receive thee again, and thou shalt glorify me.” Judging what would break my heart the soonest if I had thus denied my Master, it seems to me that I should be most affected by his saying to me, “And yet, despite thy sin, I love thee still.” Love is the great heart-breaker. Immutable love is that divine hammer which breaks the rock in pieces. Though a man should have sinned himself into great hardness of heart, yet almighty love can soften him. Who can resist the charms of grace unchangeable? Sharper than a sword is a look of love: more fierce than coals of juniper are the flames of love. One said, the other day, speaking of a person who has gone awfully astray after having been a preacher of the Word, “If I did not believe in the doctrine of unchanging love I do not think I dare pray for him; but since I believe that God will bring him back again, I pray with humble confidence that he will be restored.” That which is an encouragement to prayer for others will be a help towards our return if we have gone astray. I love to believe that my Lord will bring his wanderers back. O ye who are anxious to return to him, let this cheer you-“Yet doth he devise means that his banished be not expelled from him.” This doctrine wins men back. There are wicked men who turn it into an argument for continuing in sin; but their damnation is just. True men will see, in the measureless and unchanging love of Christ, a reason which will put wings to their feet when they hasten back to him from whom they have gone astray.

Again: this look penetrated Peter’s inmost heart. It is not every look that we receive that goes very deep. I look with eyes of deep affection at men from this pulpit, and I perceive that they know my meaning; but they soon shake it off. But our Saviour has an eye to which the joints and marrow are visible. He looks into the secret chambers of the soul; for his look is a sunbeam, and bears its own light with it, lighting up the dark places of our nature by its own radiance. Peter could not help feeling, for he was pricked in the heart by the arrow of Christ’s glance. How many persons are affected by religion only in the head! It does not affect their heart and life. I am grieved when I hear of some of you, who are regular hearers, and take pleasure in my preaching, and yet, after many years, you are not a bit better. You have had spasms of improvement, but they have ended in nothing. You go back to the mire after you have been washed. You are a hearer of the gospel, and yet a drunkard. Your voice is heard in a psalm, but it may also be heard in an oath. It is a shocking thing; but I have done my best. I can preach to your ears, but I cannot look into your hearts. Oh, that my Lord would give such a glance at you this morning as should dart light into you, and cause you to see yourself, and to see him, and then the tears would fill your eyes!

One fact may not escape our notice: our Lord’s look at Peter was a revival of all Peter’s looking unto Jesus. The Lord’s look upon Peter took effect because Peter was looking to the Lord. Do you catch it? If the Lord had turned and looked on Peter, and Peter’s back had been turned on the Lord, that look would not have reached Peter, nor affected him. The eyes met to produce the desired result. Notwithstanding all Peter’s wanderings, he was anxious about his Lord, and therefore looked to see what was done with him. Even while he warmed his hands at the fire, he kept looking into the inner hall. His eyes were constantly looking in the direction of the Lord Jesus. While he wandered about among the maids and serving-men, and got talking to them, fool that he was; yet still he would perpetually steal a glance that way to see how it fared with the man he loved. He had not given up the habit of looking to his Lord. If he had not still, in a measure, looked to his Master, how would the look of Jesus have been observed by him? His eye must look through your eye to get to your heart. The remainders of faith are the sparks among the ashes of piety, and the Lord blows on these to raise a fire. If there is a poor soul here that, despite his backsliding, can yet feel, “I am trusting in Jesus, and if I perish, I will perish there,” there is hope for that soul. If you have given up the outward forms of religion it is a grievous fault: but if you still inwardly look to the Crucified, there is something in you to work upon; there is an eye which can receive the look of Jesus. It is through the eye that looks to Jesus that Jesus looks, and lets fresh light and hope into the soul. Oh that you who have this lingering faith in the Lord may now receive a look from him which shall work in you a bitter, salutary, saving repentance, without which you can never be restored!

This look was altogether between the Lord and Peter. Nobody knew that the Lord looked on Peter, except Peter and his Lord. That grace which saves a soul is not a noisy thing; neither is it visible to any but the receiver. This morning, if the grace of God comes to any one of you in power, it will be unperceived by those who sit on either side of you in the pew: they will hear the same words, but of the divine operation which accompanies them they will know nothing: the eye of the Lord will not speak to them as it is speaking to the awakened one. Do you know anything of the secret love-look of the Lord Jesus?

The whole process may not have occupied more than a second of time. “The Lord turned, and looked on Peter.” It took less time to do than it takes to tell. Yet in that instant an endless work was done. How soon can Jesus change the heart! “He spake, and it was done:” I venture to alter that verse, and say, “He looked, and it was done.” Lord, look on sinful Peter now! Work a miracle with thine eye! Even here, let some sinner look to thee because thou hast looked on him.

Now I must go to my third point: let us look at Peter after the Lord had looked at him. What is Peter doing? When the Lord looked on Peter the first thing Peter did was to feel awakened. Peter’s mind had been sleeping. The charcoal fire had not done him much good, the fumes of it are evil. The dust of Satan’s sieve had got into his eyes. He was confused with very sorrow for his dear Master, whom he truly loved. Peter was hardly Peter that night. I think I had better say, Peter was too much Peter, and his mind had more of Peter’s stone in it, than of Christ’s flesh. He had forgotten that he was an apostle; he had forgotten that which he had declared when the Lord said to him, “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed this unto thee.” Again, I remind you how significantly it is written, “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter”; for it hints that Peter now saw his Lord’s Deity through the veil of his humiliation and anguish. He had forgotten his Lord’s Deity, and thus he had, in thought, denied his Lord. He was off the lines, and was in a sleepy state. He was what Paul calls “bewitched,” and under the influence of a spiritual soporific, administered by Satan. The Lord’s look brought him to his better self, and aroused all the spiritual life which had been dormant in him: “Peter remembered,” and by this remembrance he was restored.

The next effect was, it took away all Peter’s foolhardiness from him. Peter had made his way into the high priest’s hall, but now he made his way out of it. He had not felt in any danger though in the worst of company. What did he care for the girl that kept the door? Surely he was too much of a man to mind her remarks. What did he care for the men that were round the fire? They were rough fellows, but he had been a fisherman, and quite able to cope with the priest’s bailiffs. But now the brag is gone out of him. No sooner had Jesus looked upon him than Peter declined all further risks.

Now he shows the better part of valour, and with great discretion quits the dangerous society of the high priest’s palace. Revival of grace in the heart is the death of presumption. The man who runs risks with his soul is not in a right state of mind. Perhaps the Saviour’s glance conveyed a hint to Peter that he had no business where he was. It may have seemed to say to him, “You had better be gone from these surroundings.” At any rate, that was the effect it produced. That palace in which the Lord fared so badly could not be a fit place for a disciple. To be warming himself at the fire was quite inconsistent for Peter while Jesus was being mocked of his enemies. A sight of the Lord Jesus makes many things seem incongruous which else might appear right enough. All Peter’s daring vanished; he turned his back on maids and men, and went out into the darkness of the night. We do not hear of his coming near the cross: in fact, we hear no more of him till the resurrection morning, for Peter was sensible enough, to feel that he could not trust himself any more. He placed himself in the background, till his Lord summoned him to the front. I wish that some religious professors whose lives have been questionable had grace enough to do the same. When I see a man who has sinned grievously pushing himself speedily to the front, I cannot believe that he has a due sense of the evil he has wrought, or of his own unfitness to be in the place of peril.

Above all, shun the place where you have fallen. Do not linger in it for a moment. Go out, even though you leave the comfortable fire behind you. Better be in the cold than stay where your soul is in danger. Till Peter had received from the Lord’s own mouth abundant assurance of his restoration to his office by the threefold charge to feed the sheep and lambs, we do not find him again in the forefront.

That look of Christ severed Peter from the crowd. He was no longer among the fellows around the fire. He had not another word to say to them: he quitted their company in haste. It is well for believers to feel that they are not of the world! They should flee out of Sodom. The Lord has severed us from the multitude by his divine choice, and the separation should be our choice.

Oh, that the arrows of the great Lord would this morning pierce some soul even as a huntsman wounds a stag! Oh, that the wounded soul, like Peter, would seek solitude! The stag seeks the thicket to bleed and die alone; but the Lord will come in secret to the wounded heart, and draw out the arrow. Alone is the place for a penitent. Out in the darkness is far better for you than around the fire, where coarse jokes are bandied while Christ is mocked. There must be confession and weeping alone. If Christ has looked upon you, you must get away from the men of the world, and indeed from all others; the solitude of your chamber will suit you best.

That look of Christ also opened the sluices of Peter’s heart: he went out, and wept bitterly. There was gall in the tears he wept, for they were the washings of his bitter sorrow. Dear friends, if we have sinned with Peter, God grant us grace to weep with Peter. Many will think of Peter’s wandering who forget Peter’s weeping. Sin, even though it be forgiven, is a bitter thing; even though Christ may look away your despair he will not look away your penitence. “He went out, and wept bitterly.” Oh, how he chided himself! “How could I have acted so!” How he smote on his breast, and sighed, “How can I ever look up? Yet is he very precious. That look forgave me; but I can never forgive myself.” He remembered it all his life, and could never hear a cock crow without feeling the water in his eyes.

Yet I want you to notice that that look of Christ gave him relief. It is a good thing to be able to weep. Those who cannot weep are the people that suffer most. A pent-up sorrow is a terrible sorrow. The Lord touched a secret spring, and made Peter’s grief flow out in floods; and that must have greatly eased him. I have frequently heard people say, “I had a good cry, and after that, I was able to bear it.” People die of bursting hearts when no tears relieve them. I thank God for Peter that he could weep bitterly, for thus the Holy Spirit came to him with comfort. O Master, look on some poor dry heart here-some poor heart that cannot feel its sinfulness, but would if it could-and give it feeling! Look on the heart which cannot repent, that is crying, “I would, but cannot feel contrition.” Lord, thou didst make the rock yield water at the smiting of the rod, use thy poor stick of a servant this morning to smite the rocky heart, and let the waters of repentance flow out.

And now, to conclude, it made Peter as long as he lived, ashamed to be ashamed. Peter was never ashamed after this. Who was it that stood up at Pentecost and preached? Was it not Peter? Was he not always foremost in testifying to his Lord and Master? I trust that if any of us have been falling back, and especially if we have wandered into sin, we may get such a restoration from the Lord himself, that we may become better Christians ever afterwards. I do not want you to break a bone, I pray God you never may; but if you ever do, may the heavenly Surgeon so set it that it may become thicker and stronger than before. Courage was the bone in Peter which snapped; but when it was set, it became the strongest bone in his nature, and never broke again. When the Lord sets the bones of his people, they never break any more-he does his work so effectually. The man who has erred by anger becomes meek and gentle. The man who has erred by drink quits the deadly cup, and loathes it. The man who has sinned by shame becomes the bravest of the company.

O Lord Jesus, I have tried to preach thee this morning, but I cannot look with thine eye. Thou must look on erring ones thyself. Look, Saviour! Look, sinner! “There is life in a look at the crucified One,” because there is life in a look from the crucified One. May Jesus look, and the sinner look! Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon-Matthew 26:31-40, 69-75; John 18:15-27.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-122, 649, 604.