Nehemiah was earnest in his prayer for the good of his sorrow-stricken nation, but he did not make the mistake of thinking that he was the only praying man in the world. He said, “Be attentive to the prayer of thy servant, and to the prayer of thy servants, who desire to fear thy name.” In this one respect, I like Nehemiah better than Elijah. They were both noble men, and greatly concerned for the highest welfare of their fellow-countrymen; but, at one time at least, Elijah did not have a true or a fair estimate of things as they really were. He even presumed to say to God, “I have been very jealous for the Lord God of hosts: for the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.” Nehemiah, however, acted on another and a more hopeful principle. When he had presented his own personal supplication, he felt certain that there were others who were also praying to the Lord, so he said, “Be attentive to the prayer of thy servant, and to the prayer of thy servants, who desire to fear thy name.” You know, dear friends, that Elijah was quite wrong in his calculation, for God said to him, “I have left me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed him.” There were, hidden in caves, or in other parts of the country, thousands who feared God, and bowed the knee to him alone. Let not any one of us fall into the mistake that Elijah made. Do not you, my brother, claim to be the solitary prophet of God, and say, “I only am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.” There are quite as good men as you are elsewhere in the world, and there are other people who are as earnest in prayer as you are. If you get supposing that you are the only man left who holds sound doctrine, you will become a bigot; and if you think that you are the only praying man on the earth, you will most likely prove to be self-righteous. If you fancy you are the only man who has a deep spiritual experience, probably you will be doing a great wrong to others of your Lord’s servants, and speaking evil of those whom he has accepted. It is better far to believe, with Nehemiah, that your suppliant voice is not a solitary one; but that there are many who, like yourself, cry day and night unto God.

I think it would be better to go even a little further, and to believe that, if you are earnest, there are others who are still more earnest; and that, if you possess a deep-toned piety, there are some who have even more than you have; so, instead of separating yourself from your brethren and sisters in Christ, as though you stood first and foremost, hope and believe that you are only one small star in a great constellation, one tiny speck in the milky way of divine light with which God still studs the evening sky of this world’s history. Take a hopeful view of things, and you will be more likely to be near the mark than if you judge others severely, and imagine yourself to be the only faithful servant of the Lord.

It is quite clear that Nehemiah valued the prayers of others, for he pleaded with God, “Be attentive”-not only “to the prayer of thy servant,” but also “to the prayer of thy servants, who desire to fear thy name.” Beloved friends, there is a great value in the prayers of God’s people, so we ought to set great store by them. If you ever wish to do me a good turn, pray for me; and if you would be the means of blessing your fellow-Christians, incessantly pray for them. You may think that your petition is of small account, but it is the many littles that make up the great whole. A pinch of incense from each worshipper will fill the house of the Lord with sweet perfume. Small lumps of coal cast into the glowing furnace will still further increase its heat. Do not think that we can afford to lose your prayer, whoever you may be; but cheerfully contribute it to the general treasury of the church’s devotion.

It seems to me that the persons to whom Nehemiah referred may be regarded as rather weak servants of God, for they were those who desired to fear his name. Perhaps it could not actually be said that they did fear it, but they desired to do so. Still, Nehemiah felt grateful even for their prayers; and we cannot afford to lose the prayer of a single godly child, or of the most feeble Christian among us. Do not twit him with his shortcomings, and say that his prayer is useless. No, my dear weak brother, we need your supplication. Even Abraham could not afford to lose the prayer of Lot, for Abraham’s prayer alone did not save a single city of the plain; but poor miserable Lot was able to bring just the last ounce of intercession that turned the sacred scale; he contributed a very little prayer, and thus one city was saved from destruction. Well, then, if Lot’s prayer was needed at the back of Abraham’s mighty pleading, perhaps the petition of the very least among us may, in God’s judgment, suffice to turn the scale in some other instance. The Lord may say, “The prayers of my people have prevailed now that this last one has added his request.” If one of you should stay away from the prayer-meeting, and thus not contribute your share to the supplication of the whole church because you think you are not a person of any much consequence, it may be that yours is the last prayer which is needed to complete the chain, and that it would prevail even as Lot’s did. We shall certainly not lose any blessing if you add your prayers to ours, but we shall gain by them. We wish, therefore, to offer to God, not only the prayers of any servant of his who is strong, as Nehemiah was, but also the prayers of any of his servants who desire to fear his name.

I am going now to speak concerning those of whom it is said that they desire to fear God’s name. I have already described them as being rather feeble folk, yet all who are included in this class are not alike weak. Still, as a rule, it does indicate an early stage of the working of God’s grace when we can only say of them that they desire to fear God’s name. The two remarks I shall make upon the text are these; first, that this description includes all who have any true religion; and, secondly, that this description includes many grades of grace.

First, then, this description includes all who have any true religion, they desire to fear God’s name.

For, first, true religion is always a matter of desire. If you do not desire to fear God, you do not fear him. If you do not feel any desire after that which is right in God’s sight, you have not anything at all right in your heart.

Some have a religion that is all a matter of custom. They go to a certain place of worship simply because they were brought up to go there. Their father went before them, and their grandfather went before him, so they follow in their steps as a mere matter of form. If we were to say to them, “Now, do just whatever you like, do not take any notice of what anybody else has done, or is doing; but just please yourself;” in all probability, they would not go any longer; or if they did, it would be from sheer force of custom. These are the people who say that our Sundays are very dull, and that our religious services are-well, I need not repeat what they say of them;-but they do not enjoy them, for they have in their hearts no desire towards fearing God, or towards his worship in the public assembly. They would be far happier if they could go to some place of worldly amusement, or idly loiter by the seaside, for the worship of God’s house is a weariness to them, and they are glad when the Sabbath is past. If this is true of any of you, dear friends, do not deceive yourselves about your real condition, for it is clear that you have not any religion at all. If your presence in the sanctuary is not a matter of your own deliberate choice, if you do not desire to fear God’s name, there is nothing in it that is acceptable to the Most High, for God abhors the sacrifice where the heart is not found. What blessing can result from your coming into his courts, and rendering only hypocritical worship? What art thou doing, after all, every Sabbath day, but sending into God’s house the mere pretence of a man, if thy heart is not here? Thy coat is here, thy flesh is here; but not thy very self; and, therefore, the form of worship is a mere mockery.

There are others, whose fear of God arises entirely from dread. They dare not go to bed at night without offering some sort of prayer;-not because they have any real desire to pray, or to commune with God, but through fear as to what might happen if they omitted their usual form. They would not allow a Sunday to pass without attending the means of grace at least once;-not because they have any desire to go, or any delight in the services of God’s house, but because they are afraid not to go. Yet we must always remember that the religion of dread is not the religion of Christ. That which you do because you are afraid to act otherwise, is no evidence of a renewed heart; it is, rather, the proof that you are a slave, living in dread of the lash, and that you would act far otherwise if you dared. But the child of God loves his heavenly Father, and delights to worship him; and, oftentimes, when the Sabbath is about to close, he says,-

“My willing soul would stay

In such a frame as this,

And sit and sing herself away

To everlasting bliss.”

He delights in the worship of God; it is his element, his pleasure, his treasure, and he loves it without measure; so, dear friends, by this test shall ye judge yourselves, for true religion is always a thing of desire. I do verily believe that attendance at public worship in this Tabernacle is a thing of desire to very many. I see people walking to some places of worship in such a sad and solemn way that they look as if they were going to be flogged or burned; but I notice how joyfully most of you trip along when you are coming here. You are glad when the Sabbath arrives, and you look forward to it with delight. May it always be so with you; for you may rest assured that there is no worship which is so acceptable to God as that we from our heart desire to render to him.

So, dear friends, I come back to the assertion that all true religion must be a thing of desire; and not only is this true generally, but if you dissect piety and devotion, you will find that every part of it must be a matter of desire. Take repentance, for instance; and I am sure I may say that there never was a man who repented who did not desire to repent; the Holy Spirit never makes anyone repent without his desiring to do it; that would be an impossible thing. So is it with faith; no man believes, against his will, to the saving of his soul; there must be a desire to trust Christ, or else there cannot be true faith. In like manner, no man ever loves God without a desire to do so; it would be an absurdity even to talk of such a thing. Indeed, there is no Christian grace which can be exercised without the desire to exercise it.

So, there is no act of worship which can be performed aright unless it arises from desire. A man never really praises God until he desires to do so. You cannot sit still, and say, “I joined in praising God involuntarily.” Desire is also the very life-blood of prayer; an unwilling prayer would be a hollow mockery. If I pray that which I am forced to pray, I insult God. So is it with the observance of the ordinances of the Christian religion. The time was, you know,-and not very many years ago,-when no man could be a member of a corporation, or could be employed in the service of Her Majesty, unless he would take what some people still erroneously call “the sacrament.” Cowper truly said that they made the ordinances of Christ into a picklock of office; but do you suppose that a man, who took “the sacrament” in order that he might be made into a mayor, or a sheriff, or a member of Parliament, ever had in that act any real communion with Christ? It is all but blasphemous to suppose such a thing. The right observance of the ordinance must be a matter of a Christian’s own free will; the grace of God must make him desire thus to show forth his Lord’s death. Anyone who pretends to observe either of the ordinances of Christ from any motive but holy desire, makes a mockery of them, and certainly does not use them aright.

Desire must be at the back of every religious act, or else there is nothing at all in it. It is so in the case of almsgiving. Always take heed that you do not give to the poor, or to any charity, or to the funds of the church, simply because you are asked to do so; for, unless you really desire to give what you appear to present, you have not in God’s sight given it at all. If, in your heart of hearts, you feel, “I wish I had dodged round the pillar, or gone down the other aisle, and so escaped having to give,” you have not truly offered anything to God. The shrewd Scotchman’s remark was quite right when a man said to him, “I have given a half-crown to the collection when I only intended to give a penny,” and asked if he could have it back. “No,” said the Scotchman, “when it is once in, it is in for good.” “Well,” said the man, “I shall get credit for half-a-crown, at any rate.” “Oh, no, you won’t!” said the canny Scot, “you only intended to give a penny, and you will not get credit for any more than that.”

There is another thing that is worthy of observation; that is, wherever there is this holy desire, even if there is no power to carry it into action, the desire is itself so much the very essence of true religion, that God accepts it. Desire is acceptable, for instance, in the matter of almsgiving even where no alms can be given. According to what a man hath, and not according to what he hath not, is the measure of acceptance for his gift. David, you remember, wished to build the temple, but God would not let him carry out that great work because his hands had been stained with blood; yet the Lord said to him, “Whereas it was in thine heart to build an house unto my name, thou didst well that it was in thine heart. Nevertheless thou shalt not build the house; but thy son that shall come forth out of thy loins, he shall build the house unto my name;” and God accepted the will for the deed, and blessed David accordingly. This principle may afford encouragement to any one of you who perhaps feels, “I cannot do much for the Lord’s cause, but I am quite willing to do all that I can.” Be ready to give or to act whenever you have the power, and God, our gracious Lord, will take the will for the deed whenever your desire cannot be translated into action.

But recollect one solemn fact, and that is, that wherever there is a man who has not even the desire to fear God, there is condemnation; such a man must be indeed dead in trespasses and sins. If that is your case, my friend, you have never repented, and you say that you do not desire to repent; you have never believed in Christ Jesus, and you confess that you have no desire to do so; you have never, in spirit and in truth, worshipped the God who made you, and you have no desire to do so; you have never confessed your sin, and sought pardon for it, and you say that you have no desire to do so. Well, you scarcely need, I think, that I should pronounce over you the sentence of condemnation which God’s Word declares to be yours. Does not your own conscience tell you how far you must be from the right road when you are not honest, and you say, “I do not want to be honest”? What a confirmed rogue such an individual must be! If a man says, “I am not chaste in life, and I do not want to be chaste,” you know how debauched he must be when he not only, sins, but finds pleasure in the iniquity, and boasts that he has no wish to be delivered from the evil. God have mercy upon you, my friend, if that is your case! But I pray you to stand convicted of your guilt, and to cry unto God to change your heart, and renew your will, and make you at least to desire to be right; for where that desire is really cherished, there is something good and hopeful about you; but where there is not even a desire after that which is right, and pure, and holy, what can we say but “Woe be unto you unless you repent”?

Now, in the second place, I want to show you that the description given in our text-“Thy servants, who desire to fear thy name,”-includes many grades of grace.

It does not, however, include some who would like to be included in it. Here is, for instance, a man who says, “I am not a Christian, but I sometimes desire to be one.” Yes, my friend, that is on Sunday night when you are in the company of God’s people, but what about Saturday night? What about Friday night, when you received your week’s wages? You did not desire to be a Christian then, I think;-at least, when you got home to your wife and family, they could not suppose, from the way you walked, that you had any desire of that sort. Here is another man, who says, “I desire to be a Christian;” yet he is contemplating attendance at some playhouse or other each night in the week, and he is arranging to spend a great part of his time in the company of the ungodly. I say frankly that I do not believe in that man’s desire to be saved. My friend, your goodness is like the early cloud or the morning dew;-we sometimes have a faint hope concerning you, but while your desires come and go as they hitherto have done, there is a text of Scripture that just suits you, and we advise you to take it home to yourself, “The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing.” You are like a man lying in bed, and all the while saying, “I desire to plough my field, but I do not mean to get up at present.” The sun has long risen; indeed, it is high noon, but he still says, “I desire to plough my fields, but I do not intend to get up yet;” and so he sleeps on through the whole day. He keeps on saying that he desires to plough his field, and to sow it, but the weather is not favourable; it is either too hot or too cold; it is too dry one day, and too wet another; so he goes on desiring, and does nothing. The man is a fool, or something worse; and, alas! we have many such foolish folk who are always desiring, and desiring, and desiring, and yet nothing comes of their desires. There is a tombstone, erected in memory of a prince who died some little while ago,-I will not say where he used to live, but his principality was badly managed, I should think, for he never did a good thing in his life except by mistake; no one ever credited him with having done any good; and when he was dead, they put upon his tombstone this inscription, “He was a man of excellent intentions.” Yes; and that is all that will be able to be said of many others when they come to die, “They were men of excellent intentions,-sometimes.”

Such people are very different from those to whom Nehemiah referred in his prayer: “O Lord, I beseech thee, let now thine ear be attentive to the prayer of thy servant, and to the prayer of thy servants, who desire to fear thy name.” Who are those who are included in this description?

Beginning at the bottom, I should say, first, the man who has an earnest desire to be right. I remember once asking a man if he was a Christian, and he answered, “I am very sorry to say that I am not saved; but, oh, sir, I do wish that I were!” I looked at him with much yearning in my own heart, and I saw how earnestly he meant what he had said, and I then went on to enquire why he was not a Christian if he longed to be one; because the great point is to get men to desire to be saved; and when they do desire it, what is there to hinder them from having the blessing? When a boat is guided by a rudder, it only needs that the rudder should be turned in a particular way, and the boat will go round at once; and when a man’s heart is so turned that he says, “I really desire to be right with God, I long to be a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ;” when that is not merely a passing fancy, but when he can truly say, “I am always desiring this; I earnestly and vehemently desire it;”-why, such a man is not far from the kingdom of God.

There is, however, this remark to be added,-he must not be content with that desire, but must carry it into action. Suppose that it is time for me to eat my dinner, and that I sit down at the table with the joint before me, and say, “I desire to eat;” and yet that I simply sit looking at the meat; I have my knife and fork ready, and I say that I am earnestly desiring to eat; would not anyone who was near me say, “Then, why do you not eat? There is the meat before you; help yourself”? Ah! dear friend, that is what I have long tried to induce you to do in the matter of food for your soul. Do you not know that all the provisions of the gospel are free to all who desire to partake of them? If thou hast a willing mind, thou mayest come, and thou wilt be heartily welcome; there is nothing to hinder thee, for all that there is in Christ is free to all who will come unto him. Every soul that really desires to have Christ can have him.

Perhaps someone asks, “How may I take him, then?” Why, simply by trusting him, and entrusting yourself to him. You know how I have often put it to you, using that verse in which the apostle Paul says, “The Word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth.” Then, swallow it; if it is in your mouth, let it go down into your inmost being; that is all you have to do, take it into your very soul. I do not know of a more beautiful emblem of faith, after all, than that idea of swallowing the truth, receiving it, eating and drinking it, taking Christ, who is the Truth, into your inmost self. Only trust him, and you will no longer cry, “I desire to fear the Lord,” for it will be true that you do really fear him.

Now we will go up a stage higher. There are some, included in this number of those who desire to fear God, who really do fear him, but are afraid they do not; so they dare not say that they do fear God, but they confess that they do desire to fear him. Now, this is a kind of holy modesty which, if it be not carried too far, is even commendable. The first thing that certain men in Greece did, was to call themselves sophists, or wise men. When they grew wiser, they called themselves philosophists, or philosophers, that is lovers of wisdom; and, sometimes, a man who at first calls himself by a very big name, when he gets to be really bigger, is content with a smaller title. I have known some people who have been very sure about their own conversion, but I did not feel anything like so sure about them; and I have known others who were never sure about their own safety, but always felt a sacred anxiety lest they should not be right, yet I felt quite sure about them, for I always saw in them the marks and evidences of deep sincerity and holy watchfulness. There are many of God’s true children who hardly dare call themselves by that privileged name; but there are others who are very sure about their position, to whom we would commend the words of the poet Cowper,-

“Come, then, a still, small whisper in your ear,-

He has no hope who never had a fear;

And he that never doubted of his state,

He may, perhaps,-perhaps he may-too late.”

There is such a thing as never doubting when you ought to doubt; but, on the other hand, I do not want our dear modest friends always to be saying, “I hope, and I trust;” yet never to get any further. Why! surely, the Word of God is very plain, and the way of salvation is very simple. “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.” Then, if you believe on him, you have everlasting life. The man who really trusts Christ loves and fears God; and if you love him, and can say, “Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee,” then you are a God-fearing man. If you are relying for salvation upon Jesus Christ, and have no other trust, then you need not say, “I hope I am saved;” you may be sure that you are saved. Still, God forbid that I should ever seem to condemn those whom God accepts; so, if all you dare to say is that you desire to fear him, give me thine hand, my brother, give me thine hand, my sister; though thou art weak and feeble, and thine enjoyment of the things of God is but slender, thou art in the King’s family, one of the redeemed, and thy prayer is needed to be united with ours, so let us have it, and God will accept it.

Let us advance a step further. Those who desire to fear God are found among those who know that they do fear him, and dare to confess it; but who, nevertheless, are afraid that their imperfections are so abundant that their religion still lies more in the region of desire than of attainment. I remember being in the company of a person who was talking very much about his own growth in grace. If I remember rightly, he said something about a higher life than God gives to all his people, and he boasted very much about his own attainments. There was another brother there who said nothing, so the first speaker turned to him, and asked, “Have not you got any religion?” “Yes,” he meekly replied; “but I never had any to boast of.” I would rather join with the second man than the first. The man who does not believe that he might be any better has very little good at present; he who thinks that he has got to the end of perfection is probably at the wrong end of it. No, no, my brethren, those of us who fear God most desire to fear him more. We have repented, but we want to have a deeper repentance; we do believe in Jesus, but we long to have a stronger faith; we hope to have a brighter, clearer hope than we at present possess; we do serve God, but we wish to serve him ten times as much as we have ever done. Have I any zeal? Oh, that the zeal of his house might eat me up! Am I a saint? Oh, that I might be more fully sanctified, and that sin might be more thoroughly overthrown! There is yet very much left to be desired in the best of us; there is great room for further progress; and we must keep on pressing forward toward that which is before, and forget that which is behind. In this sense, then, we are all amongst those who desire to fear God’s name even when we do fear it.

Let us advance another step. There are some who desire to fear God’s name in a sense which no doubt was intended by Nehemiah. The poor Jews at Jerusalem could not worship God as they wished to do; there was no temple, no altar, no sacrifice; they could not carry out the ceremonials and festivities which God had ordained, so they desired to show that they feared God’s name more publicly and more openly, and to do it more thoroughly, and with greater freedom and less hindrance. I daresay I am speaking to some dear child of God who says, “That is just my case,-I do desire to fear God’s name, but I am hampered in many ways.” You have conscientious convictions, and you are placed just now where you cannot carry them out. You are as yet under age, perhaps, and parental authority is interposed, and you say, “I cannot do what I believe to be right, but I do desire to fear God’s name.” Hold on to that, dear brother, and do all that you can do, and God will enlarge the place of your footsteps by-and-by. I have known servants who could not get out to the house of God, and other persons placed in positions in the family where they could not enjoy the means of grace, and persons living in villages where they have been obliged, if they went to any place of worship at all, to go where the gospel was not preached. If that is your case, you may well say, that you desire to fear God’s name, and want more liberty and greater scope; and though you may, at this present moment, be like Naaman the Syrian, and have to bow in the house of Rimmon, I wish you would not do it,-I wish you would give up Rimmon and his house; hut, still, with all the imperfections with which your circumstances surround you, I know some of you, who are God’s true children, are in a dreadful fix, and do not know what to do. I want to include you within the lines of those whom God will bless so long as you desire to fear his name. Cry mightily to God about it, and he will yet bring you better days. The apostle Paul said that, if a man, who was a slave, was converted to God, and he could not lawfully get out of his position, he could glorify God as a slave; and you may do the same wherever your lot may be cast. Make it the subject of prayer that you may be able to serve God whatever happens. Perhaps you dwell in Mesech, when you go home to-night, you cannot gather at the family altar, you cannot mention Christ’s name in the house where you live without setting blasphemous tongues going directly. Let it be your desire that God will place you in other circumstances; and if he does, then carry out what you desire. Do not let the associations in which you are placed cause your piety to degenerate lest, when God gives you enlargement, you should not have an enlarged heart at the same time, and continue to live as you are now when there will be no excuse for your doing so.

To close my discourse, let me say that the very highest form of devotion we can ever reach is included in the description in the text, “thy servants who desire to fear thy name,” for I find that some of our translators and expositors read it, “who delight to fear thy name.” There is not much variation in it, after all; because, to desire to fear God’s name is much the same thing as doing it as a matter of delight. Come, beloved, God grant that we may all get to be of that number who delight to fear his name. May we be of those to whom it is a pleasure and a joy to be the soldiers of the cross, the followers of the Lamb, to whom prayer is recreation, to whom praise is paradise, to whom the service of God is heaven. We are not slaves now, but happy children, who delight in God, and joy in him; and we can sing with our sacred poet,-

“I need not go abroad for joys,

I have a feast at home;

My sighs are turned into songs,

My heart has ceased to roam.

Down from above the blessed Dove

Is come into my breast,

To witness thine eternal love,

And give my spirit rest.

O yes, we delight to fear God! Our misery is that we cannot fear him as we would. Our sorrow is if we ever fall into sin. A child of God cannot find pleasure there. He may be led into sin, but he will be whipped for it, and he will whip himself for it. He will groan, and cry, and sigh, to think how wrong he was to go astray; but his greatest delight is in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate day and night.

Thus I have shown you that this description comprehends all ranges and grades of grace. God grant that we may all come in under the description, and may we then take care to present our prayers with those of all who fear God’s name. Be at the prayer-meetings whenever you can; and I beg you to pray at home, and to join the people of God wherever prayer is offered, even though some of you at present only desire to fear his name; and may the Lord bless you all, for his dear name’s sake! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

NEHEMIAH 1

Verses 1, 2. The words of Nehemiah the son of Hachaliah. And it came to pass in the month Chisleu, in the twentieth year, as I was in Shushan the palace, that Hanani, one of my brethren, came, he and certain men of Judah; and I asked them concerning the Jews that had escaped, which were left of the captivity, and concerning Jerusalem.

Nehemiah was in a high office in Shushan the palace of King Artaxerxes, but his heart was at Jerusalem. He therefore remembered the very date, “in the month Chisleu,” when some of his brethren came from Judah to visit him, for he was more interested in their coming than in any transaction of the court in which he was for a while employed.

Observe the subject of this good man’s conversation: “I asked them concerning the Jews that had escaped, which were left of the captivity, and concerning Jerusalem.” Whenever Christian people meet together, they ought to make the subject of their mutual discourse an enquiry as to the progress of the Kingdom of God in the place where they respectively dwell. If you have come up from the country, we want you to tell us about the work of God in your village, or in the town to which you belong; are there many conversions there? We also will tell you about the work in London. Thus should Christian brethren commune with one another, and ask concerning Christ’s kingdom among men, and the progress that his gospel is making.

3. And they said unto me, The remnant that are left of the captivity there in the province are in great affliction and reproach: the wall of Jerusalem also is broken down, and the gates thereof are burned with fire.

They gave a correct description of the real state of affairs in Jerusalem; they did not colour it, but they stated the actual facts. It is well, sometimes, to tell our Christian brethren about the low estate of Zion; where things are not prospering as they should, it is best to say so, and not to try to smother up the truth, and give a false report.

4. And it came to pass, when I heard these words, that I sat down and wept, and mourned certain days, and fasted, and prayed before the God of heaven.

This good man was greatly affected by the sad news which he heard. He was not indifferent to the condition of his countrymen; he did not say, “We are getting on very well here; I am a Jew, and I am in the palace of Artaxerxes, but I cannot do anything to help my brethren. You, who are away there at Jerusalem, must do the best you can.” No; Nehemiah said no such thing; he looked upon himself as being part and parcel of the whole Jewish race, just as every true believer should regard all Christians as being near akin to himself. We are not twenty churches, brethren, nor two hundred; our Lord Jesus Christ is the head, and we are members of that one body which is his Church. We ought to sympathize with all who are in Christ; and, especially, if the cause of God is not prospering in any place, we should do as Nehemiah did, he wept, and mourned, and fasted, and prayed before the God of heaven, He tells us what he said in his prayer; these are, as it were, the shorthand notes of his supplication.

5, 6. And said, I beseech thee, O Lord God of heaven, the great and terrible God, that keepeth covenant and mercy for them that love him and observe his commandments: let thine ear now be attentive, and thine eyes open, that thou mayest hear the prayer of thy servant, which I pray before thee now, day and night, for the children of Israel thy servants, and confess the sins of the children of Israel, which we have sinned against thee: both I and my father’s house have sinned.

This is quite a model prayer. How earnest it is, and how truthful! Nehemiah recognizes the terrible side of God’s character as well as his mercifulness. He evidently had right views of God. Some people try to explain away all the passages of Scripture which represent God as a terrible God; whether they know it or not, they will find this course of action to be a great source of weakness to them in dealing with the ungodly. Nehemiah calls Jehovah “the great and terrible God;” but he adds, “that keepeth covenant and mercy for them that love him.” He tells us that he prayed before the Lord day and night. Of course, he had to attend to his daily duties, so that he could not always be upon his knees; but his heart was praying even while he was engaged with other matters; and as often as he could, he retired to his room, so that he might cry out unto God.

Please to observe that he makes a confession of “the sins of the children of Israel” It is our duty as Christians, as it were, to take the great load of the sins of the nation upon ourselves, and to make confession of them before God; if the guilty ones will not repent, we must repent for them; if they will not confess their sins, we must confess their sins as though we stood in their stead. Nehemiah very pathetically says, “and confess the sins of the children of Israel, which we have sinned against thee:” and then coming still more closely home, he adds, “both I and my father’s house have sinned.”

7-9. We have dealt very corruptly against thee, and have not kept the commandments, nor the statutes, nor the judgments, which thou commandedst thy servant Moses. Remember, I beseech thee, the word that thou commandedst thy servant Moses, saying, If ye transgress, I will scatter you abroad among the nations: but if ye turn unto me, and keep my commandments, and do them; though there were of you cast out unto the uttermost part of the heaven, yet will I gather them from thence, and will bring them unto the place that I have chosen to set my name there.

He quotes the covenant, and he pleads the promise of Jehovah. Now, there is no means of getting a man to do us a favour so powerful as this, to quote his own promise, “You said you would do it.” So, here, Nehemiah says, “Remember, I beseech thee, the word that thou commandedst thy servant Moses.”

10-11. Now these are thy servants and thy people, whom thou hast redeemed by thy great power, and by thy strong hand. O Lord, I beseech thee, let now thine ear be attentive to the prayer of thy servant, and to the prayer of thy servants, who desire to fear thy name: and prosper, I pray thee, thy servant this day, and grant him mercy in the sight of this man.

That is, in the sight of King Artaxerxes to whom he was about to speak.

11. For I was the king’s cupbearer.

He counts this as a high privilege, that he would be able to speak for his people to the great king who would give him the opportunity to go and rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-63 (Song III.), 116 (Song III.), 89.

CHRISTIAN RESIGNATION

A Sermon

Intended for Reading on Lord’s-day, February 24th, 1901, delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at new park street chapel, southwark,

On a Thursday Evening, early in the year 1859.

“Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”-Matthew 26:39.

The apostle Paul, writing concerning our Lord Jesus Christ, says, “Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered.” He who, as God, knew all things, had to learn obedience in the time of his humiliation. He, who is in himself Wisdom Incarnate, did himself condescend to enter the school of suffering, there to learn that important lesson of the Christian life, obedience to the will of God; and here, in Gethsemane’s garden, you can see the Divine Scholar going forth to practise his lesson. He had been all his lifetime learning it, and now he has to learn it for the last time in his agony and bloody sweat, and in his terrible death upon the cross. Now is he to discover the utmost depths of suffering, and to attain to the height of the knowledge of obedience. See how well he has learned his lesson; note how complete and ripe a scholar he is. He has attained to the very highest class in that school; and, in the immediate prospect of death, can say to his Father, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

The object of this discourse is to commend to you the blessed example of our Lord Jesus Christ, and, as God the Holy Spirit shall help me, to urge you to be made like unto your glorious Head, and yourselves to learn, by all the daily providences with which God is pleased to surround you, this lesson of resignation to the will of God, and of making an entire surrender to him.

I have been struck, lately, in reading works by some writers who belong to the Romish Church, with the marvellous love which they have towards the Lord Jesus Christ. I did think, at one time, that it could not be possible for any to be saved in that church; but, often, after I have risen from reading the books of those holy men, and have felt myself to be quite a dwarf by their side, I have said, “Yes, despite their errors, these men must have been taught of the Holy Spirit. Notwithstanding all the evils of which they have drunk so deeply, I am quite certain that they must have had fellowship with Jesus, or else they could not have written as they did,” Such writers are few and far between; but, still, there is a remnant according to the election of grace even in the midst of that apostate church. Looking at a book by one of them, the other day, I met with this remarkable expression, “Shall that body, which has a thorn-crowned Head, have delicate, pain-fearing members? God forbid!” That remark went straight to my heart at once. I thought how often the children of God shun pain, reproach, and rebuke, and think it to be a strange thing when some fiery trial happens to them. If they would but recollect that their Head had to sweat as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground, and that their Head was crowned with thorns, it would not seem strange to them that the members of his mystical body also have to suffer. If Christ had been some delicate person, if our glorious Head had been reposing upon the soft pillow of ease, then might we, who are the members of his Church, have expected to go through this world with joy and comfort; but if he must be bathed in his own blood, if the thorns must pierce his temples, if his lips must be parched, and if his mouth must be dried up like a furnace, shall we escape suffering and agony? Is Christ to have a head of brass and hands of gold? Is his head to be as if it glowed in the furnace, and are not we to glow in the furnace, too? Must he pass through seas of suffering, and shall we-

“Be carried to the skies,

On flowery beds of ease”?

Ah, no! we must be conformed unto our Lord in his humiliation if we would be made like him also in his glory.

So, brethren and sisters, I have to discourse to you upon this lesson, which some of us have begun to learn, but of which as yet we know so little,-this lesson of saying, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” First, let me explain the meaning of this prayer; then, urge you, by certain reasons, to make this your constant cry; next, show what will be the happy effect of its being the paramount desire of your spirits; and we will conclude with a practical enquiry,-what can bring us to this blessed condition?

First, then, what is the meaning of this prayer? “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

I shall not address myself to those Christians who are but as dwarfs, who know little about the things of the kingdom. I will speak rather to those who do business in the deep waters of communion, who know what it is to pillow their heads upon the bosom of Jesus, to walk with God as Enoch did, and to talk with him as Abraham did. My dear brethren, only such as you can understand this prayer in all its length and breadth. Your brother, who as yet scarcely knows the meaning of the word communion, may pray thus in some feeble measure; yet it is not to be expected that he should discern all the spiritual teaching that there is in these words of our Lord; but to you who are Christ-taught, you who have become ripe scholars in the school of Christ, to you I may speak as unto wise men,-judge ye what I say.

If you and I mean this prayer, and do not use it as a mere form of words, but mean it in all its fulness, we must be prepared for this kind of experience. Sometimes, when we are in the midst of the most active service, when we are diligently serving God both with our hands and our heart, and when success is crowning all our labours, the Lord will lay us aside, take us right away from the vineyard, and thrust us into the furnace. Just at the very time when the church seems to need us most, and when the world’s necessities are most of all appealing to us, and when our hearts are full of love towards Christ and towards our fellow-creatures, it will often happen that, just then, God will strike us down with sickness, or remove us from our sphere of activity. But if we really mean this prayer, we must be prepared to say, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” This is not easy, for does not the Holy Spirit himself teach us to long after active service for our Saviour? Does he not, when he gives us love towards our fellow-men, constrain us, as it were, to make their salvation our meat and our drink? When he is actively at work within our hearts, do we not feel as if we could not live without serving God? Do we not then feel that, to labour for the Lord is our highest rest, and that toil for Jesus is our sweetest pleasure? Does it not then seem most trying to our ardent spirit to be compelled to drink the cup of sickness, and to be incapable of doing anything actively for God? The preacher is seeing men converted and his ministry successful; but, on a sudden, he is compelled to cease from preaching; or the Sunday-school teacher has, by the grace of God, been the means of bringing his class into an interesting and hopeful condition; yet, just when the class needs his presence most, he is smitten down, so that he cannot go on with his work. Ah! then it is that the spirit finds it hard to say, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” But if we adopt this prayer, this is what it means; that we should be prepared to suffer instead of to serve, and should be as willing to lie in the trenches as to scale the walls, and as willing to be laid aside in the King’s hospital as to be fighting in the midst of the rank and file of the King’s army. This is hard to flesh and blood, but we must do it if we present this petition.

If we really mean this prayer, there will be a second trial for us. Sometimes, God will demand of us that we labour in unpropitious, fields; he will set his children to plough the rock, and to cast their bread upon the waters. He will send his Ezekiel to prophesy in a valley full of dry bones, and his Jonah to carry his message to Nineveh. He will give his servants strange work to do,-work which seems as if it never could be successful, or bring honour either to God or to themselves. I doubt not that there are some ministers, who toil and labour with all their might, yet who see but little fruit. Far away in the dark places of heathendom, there are men who have been toiling for years with scarcely a convert to cheer them; and here, too, in England, there are men who are preaching, in all sincerity and faithfulness, the Word of the Lord, yet they do not see souls converted. They know that they are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, both in them that perish, and in them that are saved. Our hearts are, I trust, so full of the Spirit prompting us to cry, like Rachel, “Give me children, or I die;” that we cannot rest content without seeing the success of our labours. Yet the Master, in effect, says to us, “No, I tell you to continue to toil for me, though I give you no fruit for your labour; you are to keep on ploughing this rock, simply because I tell you to do it.” Ah! then, brethren, it is hard to say, “Not my will, but thine be done.” But we must say it; we must feel that we are ready to forego even the joy of harvest, and the glory of success, if God wills it.

At other times, God will remove his people, from positions of honourable service, to other offices that are far inferior in the minds of men. I think that I should feel it hard if I had to be banished from my large congregation, and from my thousands of hearers, to a small village where I could only preach the gospel to a little company of people; yet I am sure that, if I entered fully into the spirit of our Lord’s words,-“Not as I will, but as thou wilt,”-I should be quite as ready to be there as to be here. I have heard that, among the Jesuits, such is the extraordinary obedience which they are compelled to pay to their superiors, that, on one occasion, there was a president of one of their colleges, who had written some of the most learned books in any language, a man of the highest talents, and the superior of the order took a freak into his head, for some reason, to send him straight away from the country where he was to Bath, to stand there in the street for a year, and sweep the crossing; and the man did it. He was compelled to do it; his vow obliged him to do anything that he was told to do. Now, in a spiritual sense, this is hard to perform; but, nevertheless, it is a Christian’s duty. We remember the saying of a good man that the angels in heaven are so completely given up to obedience to God that, if there should be two works to do, ruling an empire and sweeping a crossing, neither of the two angels, who might be selected to go on these two errands, would have any choice in the matter, but would just leave it with their Lord to decide which part they were to fulfil. You may, perhaps, be called from the charge of the services in a place of worship, to become one of the humblest members in another church; you may be taken from a place of much honour, and put in the very lowest ranks of the army; are you willing to submit to that kind of treatment? Your flesh and blood say, “Lord, if I may still serve in thine army, let me be a captain; or, at least, let me be a sergeant, or a corporal. If I may help to draw thy chariot, let me be the leading horse, let me run first in the team, let me wear the say ribbons.” But God may say to you, “I have put thee there in the thick of the battle, now I will place thee behind; I have given thee vigour and strength to fight with great success, now I will make thee tarry by the stuff; I have done with thee in the prominent position, now I will use thee somewhere else.” But if we can only pray this prayer, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt,” we shall be ready to serve God anywhere and everywhere, so long as we know that we are doing his will.

But there is another trial which we shall all have to endure in our measure, which will prove whether we understand by this prayer what Christ meant by it. Sometimes, in the service of Christ, we must be prepared to endure the lost of reputation, of honour, and even of character itself. I remember, when I first came to London to preach the Word, I thought that I could bear anything for Christ; but I found myself shamefully slandered, all manner of falsehoods were uttered concerning me, and in agony I fell on my face before God, and cried unto him. I felt as though that was a thing I could not bear; my character was very dear to me, and I could not endure to have such false things said about me. Then this thought came to me, “You must give up all to Christ, you must surrender everything for him, character, reputation, and all that you have; and if it is the Lord’s will, you shall be reckoned the vilest of the vile, so long as you can still continue to serve him, and your character is really pure, you need not fear. If it is your Master’s will that you shall be trampled and spit upon by all the wicked men in the world, you must simply bear it, and say, ‘Not as I will, but as thou wilt.’ ” And I remember then how I rose from my knees, and sang to myself that verse,-

“If on my face, for thy dear name,

Shame and reproaches be,

All hail reproach, and welcome shame.

If thou remember me.”

“But how hard it was,” you say, “for you to suffer the loss of character, and to have evil things spoken against you falsely for Christ’s name’s sake!” And what was the reason why it was so hard? Why, it was just because I had not fully learnt how to pray this prayer of our Lord Jesus Christ,-and I am afraid that I have not completely learnt it yet. It is a very delightful thing to have even our enemies speaking well of us, to go through this world with such holiness of character that men who pour scorn upon all religion cannot find fault with us; but it is an equally glorious thing for us to be set in the pillory of shame, to be pelted by every passer-by, to be the song of the drunkard, to be the by-word of the swearer, when we do not deserve it, and to endure all this for Christ’s sake. This is true heroism; this is the meaning of the prayer of our text.

Again, some of you have at times thought, “Oh, if the Master will only be pleased to open a door for me where I may be the means of doing good! How glad I should be if I could have either more wealth, or more influence, or more knowledge, or more talents, with which I might serve him better!” You have prayed about the matter, and thought about it, and you have said, “If I could only get into such-and-such a position, how excellently should I be able to serve God!” You have seen your Master give to some of his servants ten talents, but he has given you only one; you have gone on your knees, and asked him to be good enough to trust you with two, and he has refused it. Or you have had two, and you have asked him to let you have ten; and he has said, “No, I will give you two talents, and no more.” But you say, “Is it not a laudable desire that I should seek to do more good?” Certainly; trade with your talents, multiply them if you can. But suppose you have no power of utterance, suppose you have no opportunities of serving God, or even suppose the sphere of your influence is limited, what then? Why, you are to say, “Lord, I hoped it was thy will that I might have a wider sphere; but if it is not, although I long to serve thee on a larger scale, I will be quite content to glorify thee in my present narrower sphere, for I feel that here is an opportunity for the trial of my faith and resignation, and again I say, ‘Not as I will, but as thou wilt.’ ”

Christian men, are you prepared heartily to pray this prayer? I fear there is not a single individual amongst us who could pray it in all its fulness of meaning. Perhaps you may go as far as I have already gone; but if God should take you at your word, and say, “My will is that your wife should be smitten with a fatal illness, and, like a fading lily, droop and die before your eyes; that your children should be caught up to my loving bosom in heaven; that your house should be burned with fire; that you should be left penniless, a pauper dependent on the charity of others; it is my will that you should cross the sea; that you should go to distant lands, and endure unheard-of hardships; it is my will that, at last, your bones should lie bleaching on the desert sand in some foreign clime.” Are you willing to endure all this for Christ? Remember that you have not attained unto the full meaning of this prayer until you have said “Yes” to all that it means; and, until you can go to the uttermost lengths to which God’s providence may go, you have not gone to the full extent of the resignation in this cry of our Lord. Many of the early Christians, I think, did know this prayer by heart; it is wonderful how willing they were to do anything and be anything for Christ. They had got this idea into their heads, that they were not to live to themselves; and they had it also in their hearts; and they believed that, to be martyred, was the highest honour they could possibly wish for. Consequently, if they were brought to the tribunals of the judges, they never ran away from their persecutors; they almost courted death, for they thought it was the highest privilege that they could possibly have if they might be torn in pieces by the lions in the arena, or be decapitated with the sword. Now, if we also could but get that idea into our hearts, with what courage would it gird us, how fully might we then serve God, and how patiently might we endure persecution if we had but learnt the meaning of this prayer, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

In the second place, I am to try and give you some reasons why it will be best for us all to seek to have the Holy Spirit within us, so that we may be brought into this frame of mind and heart.

And the first reason is, because it is simply a matter of right. God ought to have his way at all times, and I ought not to have mine whenever it is contrary to his. If ever my will is at cross purposes to the will of the Supreme, it is but right that mine should yield to his. If I could have my own way,-if such a poor, feeble creature as I am could thwart the Omnipotent Creator, it would be wrong for me to do it. What! hath he made me, and shall he not do as he wills with me? Is he like the potter, and am I but as the clay, and shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, “Why hast thou made me thus?” No, my Lord, it is but right that thou shouldest do what thou pleasest with me, for I am thine;-thine, for thou hast made me;-thine, for thou hast bought me with thy blood. If I am a jewel purchased with the precious blood of Jesus, then he may cut me into what shape he pleases, he may polish me as he chooses, he may let me lie in the darkness of the casket, or let me glitter in his hand or in his diadem; in fact, he may do with me just as he wills, for I am his; and so long as I know that he does it, I must say, “Whatever he does is right; my will shall not be in opposition to his will.”

But, again, this is not only a matter of right, it is a matter of wisdom with us. Depend upon it, dear brethren, if we could have our own will, it would often be the worst thing in the world for us; but to let God have his way with us, even if it were in our power to thwart him, would be an act of wisdom on our part. What do I desire when I wish to have my own will? I desire my own happiness; well, but I shall get it far more easily if I let God have his will, for the will of God is both for his own glory and my happiness; so, however much I may think that my own will would tend to my comfort and happiness, I may rest assured that God’s will would be infinitely more profitable to me than my own; and that, although God’s will may seem to make it dark and dreary for me at the time, yet from seeming evil he will bring forth good, such as never could have been produced from that supposed good after which my weak and feeble judgment is so apt to run.

But, again, suppose it were possible for us to have our own will, would it not be an infringement of that loving reliance which Christ may well ask at our hands, that we should trust him? Are we not saved by trusting our Lord Jesus Christ? Has not faith in Christ been the means of saving me from sin and hell? Then, surely I must not run away from this rule when I come into positions of trial and difficulty. If faith has been superior to sin, through the blood of Christ, it will certainly be superior to trial, through the almighty arm of Christ. Did I not tell him, when I first came to him, that I would trust no one but him? Did I not declare that all my other confidences were burst and broken, and scattered to the winds; and did I not ask that he would permit me to put my trust in him alone; and shall I, after that, play the traitor? Shall I now set up some other object in which to place my trust? Oh, no! my love to Jesus, my gratitude to him for his condescension in accepting my faith, binds me henceforth to trust to him, and to him alone.

We often lose the force of a truth by not making it palpable to our own mind; let us try to make this one so. Imagine the Lord Jesus to be visibly present in this pulpit; suppose that he looks down upon one of you, and says, “My child, thy will and mine do not, just now, agree; thou desirest such-and-such a thing, but I say, ‘Nay, thou must not have it;’ now, my child, which will is to prevail, mine or thine?” Suppose you were to reply, “Lord, I must have my will,” do you not think he would look at you with eyes of infinite sadness and pity, and say to you, “What! did I give up my will for thee, and wilt thou not give up thy will for me? Did I surrender all I had, even my life, for thy sake, and dost thou say, thou self-willed child, ‘I must have these things according to my will, and contrary to thy wish and purpose, O my Saviour’?” Surely, you could not talk like that; rather, I think I see you instantly falling on your knees, and saying, “Lord Jesus, forgive me for ever harbouring such evil thoughts; no, my Lord, even if thy will be hard, I will think it pleasant; if it be bitter, I will believe that the bitterest draught is sweet. Let me but see thee dying on the cross for me, let me only know that thou lovest me, and wherever thou shalt put me, I will be in heaven as long as I can feel that it is thy will that is being done with me. I will be perfectly content to be just wherever thou choosest me to be, and to suffer whatever thou choosest for me to endure.” Yes, dear friends, it would show a sad want of that love which we owe to Christ, and of that gratitude which he deserves, if we were once to set our wills up in opposition to his. Therefore, again, beloved, for love’s sake, for wisdom’s sake, for right’s sake, I beseech you ask the Holy Spirit to teach you this prayer of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to impart to you its blessed meaning.

I notice, in the next place, the effect of truly saying and feeling, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

The first effect is, constant happiness. If you would find out the cause of most of your sorrows, dig at the root of your self-will; for that is where it lies. When your heart is wholly sanctified unto God, and your will is entirely subdued to him, the bitter becomes sweet, pain is changed to pleasure, and suffering is turned into joy. It is not possible for that man’s mind to be disturbed whose will is wholly resigned to the will of God. “Well,” says one, “that is a very startling statement;” and another says, “I have really sought to have my will resigned to God’s will, yet I am disturbed.” Yes, and that is simply because, though you have sought, like all the rest of us, you have not yet attained to full resignation to the will of the Lord. But when once you have attained to it,-I fear you never will in this life,-then shall you be free from everything that shall cause you sorrow or discomposure of mind.

Another blessed effect of this prayer, if it is truly presented, is, that it will give a man holy courage and bravery. If my mind is wholly resigned to God’s will, what have I to fear in all the world? It is with me then as it was with Polycarp; when the Roman emperor threatened that he would banish him, he said, “Thou canst not, for the whole world is my Father’s house, and thou canst not banish me from it.” “But I will slay thee,” said the emperor. “Nay, thou canst not, for my life is hid with Christ in God.” “I will take away all thy treasures.” “Nay, thou canst not; for I have nothing that thou knowest of; my treasure is in heaven, and my heart is there also.” “But I will drive thee away from men, and thou shalt have no friend left.” “Nay, that thou canst not do, for I have a Friend in heaven from whom thou canst not separate me; I defy thee, for there is nothing that thou canst do unto me.” And so can the Christian always say, if once his will agrees with God’s will; he may defy all men, and defy hell itself, for he will be able to say, “Nothing can happen to me that is contrary to the will of God; and if it be his will, it is my will, too; if it pleases God, it pleases me. God has been pleased to give me part of his will, so I am satisfied with whatever he sends.”

Man is, after all, only the second cause of our sorows. A persecutor says, perhaps, to a child of God, “I can afflict thee.” “Nay, thou canst not, for thou art dependent on the first Great Cause, and he and I are agreed.” Ah! dear friends, there is nothing that makes men such cowards as having wills contrary to the will of God; but when we resign ourselves wholly into the hands of God, what have we to fear? The thing that made Jacob a coward was, that he was not resigned to God’s will when Esau came to meet him. God had foretold that the elder of the two sons of Isaac should serve the younger; Jacob’s business was to believe that, and to go boldly forward with his wives and children, and not to bow down before Esau, but to say, “The promise is, the elder shall serve the younger; I am not going to bow down to you; it is your place to fall prostrate before me.” But poor Jacob said, “Perhaps it is God’s will that Esau should conquer me, and smite the mothers and their children; but my will is that it shall not be so.” The contest is well pictured at the ford Jabbok; but if Jacob had not disbelieved God’s promise, he would never have bowed himself to the earth seven times before his brother Esau. In the holy majesty of his faith, he would have said, “Esau, my brother, thou canst do me no hurt; for thou canst do nothing contrary to the will of God. Thou canst do nothing contrary to his decree, and I will be pleased with whatsoever it is.”

So, this resignation to God’s will gives, first, joy in the heart, and then it gives fearless courage; and yet another thing follows from it. As soon as anyone truly says, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt,” this resolve tends to make every duty light, every trial easy, every tribulation sweet. We should never feel it to be a hard thing to serve God; yet there are many people, who, if they do a little thing for the Lord, think so much of it; and if there is ever a great thing to be done, you have, first, to plead very hard to get them to do it; and when they do it, very often it is done so badly that you are half sorry you ever asked them to do it. A great many people make very much out of what is really very little. They take one good action which they have performed, and they hammer it out till it becomes as thin as gold leaf, and then they think they may cover a whole week with that one good deed. The seven days shall all be glorified by an action which only takes five minutes to perform; it shall be quite enough, they even think, for all time to come. But the Christian, whose will is conformed to God’s will, says, “My Lord, is there anything else for me to do? Then, I will gladly do it. Does it involve want of rest? I will do it. Does it involve loss of time in my business? Does it involve me, sometimes, in toil and fatigue? Lord, it shall be done, if it is thy will; for thy will and mine are in complete agreement. If it is possible, I will do it; and I will count all things but loss that I may win Christ, and be found in him, rejoicing in his righteousness, and not in mine own.”

There are many other sweet and blessed effects which this resignation would produce; but I must close by observing that the only way in which this spirit can be attained is by the unction of the Holy One, the outpouring and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.

You may try to subdue your own self, but you will never do it alone. You may labour, by self-denial, to keep down your ambition; but you will find that it takes another shape, and grows by that wherewith you thought to poison it. You may seek to concentrate all the love of your soul on Christ, and in the very act you will find self creeping in. I am sometimes astonished,-and yet not astonished when I know the evil of my own heart,-when I look within myself, and find how impure my motive is at the very moment when I thought it was most pure; and I expect it is the same with you, dear friends. You perform a good action,-some almsgiving to the poor, perhaps. You say, “I will do it very quietly.” Someone speaks of it, and you say at once, “I wish you had not spoken of that; I do not like to hear anyone talk of what I have done; it hurts me.” Perhaps it is only your pride that makes you say that it hurts you; for some folk make their modesty to be their pride; it is, in fact, their secret pride that they are doing good, and that people do not know it. They glory in that supposed secrecy; and by its coming out they feel that their modesty is spoilt, and they are afraid that people will say, “Ah, you see that it is known what they do; they do not really do their good deeds in secret.” So that even our modesty may be our pride; and what some people think their pride may happen to be the will of God, and may be real modesty. It is very hard work to give up our own will; but it is possible, and that is one of the lessons we should learn from this text, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

Again, if there is anybody of whom you are a little envious,-perhaps a minister who takes a little of the gloss off you by preaching better than you do, or a Sunday-school teacher who is more successful in his work,-make that particular person the object of your most constant prayer, and endeavour as much as lies in you to increase that person’s popularity and success. Someone asks, “But you cannot bring human nature up to that point, can you,-to try and exalt one’s own rival?” My dear friends, you will never know the full meaning of this prayer till you have tried to do this, and actually sought to honour your rival more than yourself; that is the true spirit of the gospel, “in honour preferring one another.” I have sometimes found it hard work, I must confess; but I have schooled myself down to it. Can this be done? Yes, John the Baptist did it; he said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” If you had asked John whether he wished, to increase, he would have said, “Well, I should like to have more disciples; still, if it is the Lord’s will, I am quite content to go down, and that Christ should go up.”

How important, therefore, it is for us to learn how we may attain to this state of acquiescence with our heavenly Father’s will! I have given you the reasons for it, but how can it be done? Only by the operation of the Spirit of God. As for flesh and blood, they will not help you in the least, they will go just the other way; and when you think that, surely, you have got flesh and blood under control, you will find that they have got the upper hand of you just when you thought you were conquering them. Pray the Holy Spirit to abide with you, to dwell in you, to baptize you, to immerse you in his sacred influence, to cover you, to bury you in his sublime power; and so, and only so, when you are completely immersed in the Spirit, and steeped, as it were, in the crimson sea of the Saviour’s blood, shall you be made fully to realize the meaning of this great prayer, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” “Lord, not self, but Christ; not my own glory, but thy glory; not my aggrandisement, but thine; nay, not even my success, but thy success; not the prosperity of my own church, or my own self, but the prosperity of thy church, the increase of thy glory;-let all that be done as thou wilt, not as I will.”

How different this is from everything connected with the world! I have tried to take you up to a very high elevation; and if you have been able to get up there, or even to pant to get up there, how striking has the contrast been between this spirit and the spirit of the worldling! I shall not say anything to those of you who are unconverted, except this. Learn how contrary you are to what God would have you be, and what you must be, ere you can enter the kingdom of heaven. You know that you could not say, “Let God have his will,” and you know also that you could not humble yourself to become as a little child. This shows your deep depravity; so, may the Holy Spirit renew you, for you have need of renewing, that you may be made a new creature in Christ Jesus! May he sanctify you wholly, spirit, soul, and body, and at last present you, faultless, before the throne of God, for his dear name’s sake! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

JOHN 15:1-11.

Verse 1. I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.

If you want to know where the true Church is, Christ here tells you: “I am the true vine.” All who are in Christ are in the true Church. If you want to know who is the Father of the Church, its Keeper and Guardian, Christ here tells you: “My Father is the husbandman.” Hence, I feel persuaded that the true vine, the Church, will never die, for it is Christ; and I am also persuaded that it will never be uprooted, for Jesus says, “My Father is the husbandman;” and that fact is a guarantee that he will take care of it.

2. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away:

In some sense, men and women may be in Christ by a mere outward profession; but if they have no evidence of a real union to Christ, if they produce no fruit, they will be taken away, some by death, and others by apostacy; but they will be taken away.

2. And every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.

From these words, it is clear that many of the afflictions which we have to endure are not brought upon us because we are unfruitful, but because we are bearing fruit.

3, 4. Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.

Dear friends, beware of a Christless Christianity. Beware of trying to be Christians without living daily upon Christ. The branch may just as well try to bear fruit apart from the vine as for you to hope to maintain the reality of Christian life without continual fellowship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

5, 6. I am the vine, ye are the branches: he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.

The vine must either bear fruit or be good for nothing; and you, believer, must be vitally united to Christ, and bear fruit in consequence of that union or else you will be like those fruitless vine-branches, of which our Lord said that “men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.”

7. If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.

Do not take that verse as a promise of unlimited answers to prayer, for it is nothing of the kind. Remember the “if” that qualifies it: “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you,” for a man who is truly in Christ, as the branch is in the vine, and who is feeding upon Christ’s words, will be so influenced by the Holy Spirit that he will not ask anything which is contrary to the mind of God. Consequently, his prayers, though in one sense unrestricted, are really restricted by the tenderness of his conscience, and the sensitiveness of his spirit to the influence of the mind of God. There are some Christians who do not get their prayers answered, and who never will as long as they do not comply with this condition, “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you.” If you do not take notice of Christ’s words, he will not take notice of your words. He is not going to open his door to every stranger who chooses to give a runaway knock at it, but he will pay attention to his own children who pay attention to him.

8. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.

“Ye shall be known to be my disciples.” Everybody will perceive that you must be branches of that fruitful vine, Christ Jesus, if ye bear much fruit.

9. As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.

How wondrously Jesus loves those who are truly his! As the Father loved him, so does he love us; that is, without beginning, without measure, without variation, without end.

“Continue ye in my love;” that is, live in it, enjoy it, drink it in, be influenced by it.

10. If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love;

“You shall live in the realization of my love if you live in obedience to me.”

10, 11. Even as I have kept my Father’s commandments, and abide in his love. These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.

For, when Christ is not pleased with us, we are not likely to have joy in ourselves. Oh, that we may so live as to please Christ!