Our Lord’s mission upon earth was a very gracious one. It had a narrow side to it, for he came only as a minister-not as a Saviour, mark you, but as a minister-to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” He was, as the apostle Paul reminds us, “a minister of the circumcision for the truth of God;” and he did not traverse any other country but Palestine, in order to preach the gospel to the people, but he kept himself to the seed of Abraham.

Yet there was abundant room for one personal ministry within that realm alone. If a Christian worker were to say that he would confine his labours to London, he certainly need not think that he would have a restricted range; and our Saviour’s personal preaching in Palestine gave him more work than any one man could accomplish. But, even in that restricted sense, it is remarkable that he should have said to the woman of Canaan, “I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The lost sheep were the peculiar desire of his heart;-not so much Israel, as “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” His eye was specially fixed upon them, his grace sought out the objects most needing it; his mercy hungered after human misery in order that he might relieve it; so that, always, there were uppermost in his mind thoughts of pity and love towards the sons of men.

At this present moment, under the gospel dispensation, there is no division between Israel and the Gentiles. I do not care whether I am an Israelite or not, after the flesh; because, in Christ Jesus, there is neither Jew nor Gentile. That is all abolished, and all the fuss that some people make about whether we are descended from the Jews, is nonsense, and nothing better. If it is so, it does not signify in the least; for, now, “there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free; but Christ is all, and in all.” The middle wall of partition has been taken down once for all; and, now, all over the world, this truth stands in reference not to this nation, or to that alone, but to the whole human race, “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” Still does his eye, with eagle keenness, spy out the lost. Still does that eye, with dovelike tenderness, weep for the lost. Still does the eternal Saviour live that he may seek and save that which was lost. If you were never lost, you have no part or lot in his work of salvation; but, if you are lost, and know it, this is the very link which unites you to the Saviour. He has come to seek and to save just such as you are, and I hope, in the observations I am about to make, that I shall be able to show that he came to save you.

I shall speak concerning our Lord’s mission. He has come to seek and to save that which was lost.

Notice, first, what a gracious mission it was! It was a mission of pure mercy, and indescribable love. Our Lord Jesus Christ did not come into the world to seek his own honour, but to seek and to save the lost; not to get anything for himself, but to give everything to those who are lost. His mission is one of undeserved goodness, on his part, towards those who have treated him ill, and who deserve very different treatment at his hands. There was no law, except his own love, to compel Christ to come to save sinners. They had no claim upon him. When he resolved to come, it was an act of matchless grace. If he had not chosen to come, he would still have been the ever-blessed Son of the Highest, enshrined in glory everlasting though every one of us had perished. His coming was infinite goodness, returning good for evil, coming down to our lost estate, and determining, by superabundant affection, to save us from it. Our Saviour is embodied grace, incarnate love; and his mission is grace itself. Let us never forget that he came to save the lost,-not to save the good and the excellent. Ah, my brethren! Christ’s eye looks in the opposite direction to ours. We usually look for some goodness on the part of men before we help them; but he looks to their sin, and degradation, and necessity; he is kind to the unthankful and the evil. He justifieth those who are not in themselves just; while we were dead in trespasses and sins, “in due time Christ died for the ungodly.” Grace, pure grace, abounds in him, and is blessedly manifested in his mission of saving the lost.

Further, while that mission is a very gracious one, I call your attention to the fact that it is also a great one. Jesus Christ came to seek and to save the lost, and there are plenty of them; it is no small charge that Christ has taken up when he speaks of saving the lost. What a mass of our fellow-countrymen are lost! I mean, in the common use of the term “the lost classes,” that are morally gone astray, and are, by universal consent, put down among the lost. Look at whole nations of mankind that are sunk up to their eyelids in infamous transgression, lost to every sense of shame and decency. Christ, however, has come to save just such as they are; and, truth to tell, the difference between us and them, by nature, is not more than skin deep. We are a little better washed on the outside than they are, but the inside of the cup and platter of fallen humanity is pretty much alike in all men. We may have been better taught; we may have been more restrained than they have been; but a viper is a viper still wherever he may live, and man is, in every case, a lost man, a depraved and sinful creature. To my mind, it seems a wondrous charge for Christ to undertake,-to save “the lost,” without any qualification added to the word,-just “the lost.”

What a mission Christianity had when it first came, for instance, into Rome! When first Christianity came there, it was inconceivably vile. Its emperors were madmen; I think I cannot truthfully say less of such monsters as Nero, and Tiberius, and Caligula, whose power seemed all to be sent to supply themselves with the means for the indulgence of the most abandoned forms of vice. The city of Rome was full of statues, the larger part of which, thank God, have been utterly destroyed; and I often wish the rest had been, for many of them are polluting and depraving even to look upon. The city was full of idols as well as of art; and the principal images were not the more respectable ones, like Jupiter and Mercury, but Venus and Bacchus, and other abominations from the filthy crowd of Olympus. The rich indulged themselves in every luxury. Women, while their maids waited, upon them, and dressed them, practised upon their female slaves cruelty of such a kind that one would think that everything feminine had gone out of them. Slaves were tortured and put to death, and nothing was ever said about such common crimes. In the amphitheatre, into which the multitudes crowded, scores, and even hundreds of gladiators died in a single day, slaying each other in mutual conflict to make a Roman holiday. The nation was full of corruption, bribery, filthiness. A few characters shone out brightly, the more renowned because they were so few; but the land, as a whole, was such that, if Vesuvius had belched forth a torrent of fire high enough to set all Italy in a blaze, and an earthquake had opened its mouth, and swallowed it all up, there would have been as much justification for its destruction as for that of Sodom and Gomorrah of old.

But Christianity came into Rome in the form of a poor fisherman, and a tent-maker, and others like them; and they began to say, “We must love each other; you who are rich must count it a privilege to help the poor. We must all fear and serve the one true God, for there is but one; and God has made of one blood all nations to dwell upon the face of the earth. You are not to treat men with cruelty; you are not to have these sanguinary games; you are not to indulge these licentious propensities. The Lord Jesus Christ, God’s Son, has died to save us from sin, and all its consequences.” It was a very still small voice that was heard in Rome at first; and if it had not been for the supernatural power of God, it would speedily have been silenced. But its influence soon began to spread; for some of the rich men in the city, and some of the soldiers on guard in Cæsar’s palace, and many of the poor slaves embraced the new religion; and everywhere they were renowned for kindness, and gentleness, and purity, and love. Then wicked men said, “We will put this new religion down,” and horrible persecutions followed; but, notwithstanding all that the Christians suffered, Rome became leavened with the influence of Christianity. By-and-by, slavery passed away; cruelties were no longer indulged; the amphitheatre was abolished; many of the idol gods were broken in pieces; the one invisible God was worshipped; and the world rose up, like one that has been in an awful swoon, and dreamed dreadful things, and she looked into the glass, and saw her face as though she had been born again. Christ had come to seek and to save lost society, and he did it in a marvellous way, as he always can do it; and he will continue to do it; for this is the great errand of my Master, that, wherever men are sunken in sin and vice,-wherever they are immersed in crime, or satisfied with their self-righteousness,-he has come to save them from it.

Mark, also, that my Master’s mission, while it is a gracious one, and a great one, is a very complete one. He comes to seek; that is, to find, the lost; and coming into contact with lost humanity, he does not leave it lost, for he saves those whom he seeks.

And what a condescending way of saving he has, for the text says, “The Son of man is come.” He was no “Son of man” once; he was, and ever remains, the eternal Son of God; but he deigned to take upon him this poor nature of ours; he became a man like ourselves,-a condescension so marvellous that, though we hear of it now with little astonishment, yet, if we sat down to think it over, it would remain an unexplained mystery to bewilder us with its marvels of matchless grace. Yes, the Son of God became the Son of man. As such, he lived; as such, he bled away his life upon the cross that he might redeem us. He has come, as the Son of man, that he might lift us up to be the sons of God. And, blessed be his name, the deed is done; and, by his Spirit’s power, its glorious results are still bringing untold blessings to all who trust him.

Just once more, what a practical aim our Saviour had in coming here! Our Lord Jesus Christ did not come to propound a philosophy, he did not come to explode ancient errors, he did not come to keep abreast of the times, he did not come to do the pretty things that many ministers are trying to do nowadays, he did not come to be rhetorical, he did not come to be popular, he did not come that he might gain the esteem of the multitude; he came to seek and to save the lost. Would God that his Church would keep to the same kind of work! But his Church seems to me to act, in a great measure, as if she were in the world simply to show off her pretty self with all her fineries,-to play her grand music, and tickle the ears of people with a Sunday concert, and I know not what of floral show to increase the attraction of it. “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” and what are we, who call ourselves his disciples, doing? Many of us are doing a thousand other things than this one great thing which alone is worthy of the service of the man who calls himself a Christian, and who therefore ought to be one who is like Christ. He came to seek and to save the lost. Brothers and sisters, try to get at this work as closely as ever you can. Whatever else you can or cannot do, do seek to be the means of saving souls. Whatever you can do, that is fine and grand, and that will bring you into esteem among your fellow-men, do try to save poor lost sinners, even though they should be among the lowest of the low, and the poorest of the poor. Do try to do what you are called to do in your Master’s name; for, by the power of his matchless gospel, you also can seek the lost, and bring them to him to save them.

Thus much about our Master’s mission.

Now I want, in the second place, to give a message to the lost ones from my text.

I do not know where you lost ones are; but here, somewhere, are some of you who know yourselves to be lost. I am not talking to these other people; but you and I will have a little conversation between ourselves.

And, first, I ask you to think what an interest is excited about you. You are lost, and it seems that earth, and heaven, too, are concerned about your being lost, for the Son of man, who is also the Son of God, blends heaven and earth in one in being concerned about you. God’s Church is interested in your salvation; many Christians are praying for you, and I am trying to speak out the common love of Christians to you. Because you are lost, we long that you may be saved. Suppose there is a little child in the family,-not a very pretty child, not always quite clean, nothing very much to look at in anybody’s eyes except her mother’s. They are seven or eight in the family, and the parents have not much time to waste in admiration of any one of them when they have to earn bread for so many. But, just now, little Mary is the principal object of thought in the family. Everybody’s heart is taken up with Mary. There is nobody in the house who is not thinking of Mary; and what is the reason? Why, Mary went out, this morning, to go on an errand; and it is now evening, and she has not come home; and they have been round to the police-station, but they cannot find her. Mary is lost, so there is more thought of her than about Jane, or Hannah, or John, or Thomas, though they are of older growth, and better children, it may be. But Mary, just now, is uppermost with everybody, because Mary is lost! It is so with regard to you, my dear friend. You are in the uppermost thought of Christ just now, and you are in our uppermost thought, too, because you are lost. I do not want you to feel at all elated at being the subject of this interest; because it is not so much you, you know, or anything about you except the one fact that you are lost, which makes us so much interested in you.

Presently there is such joy, such kissing and hugging, such delight, such singing, because Mary is found. Perhaps you step in, and look at Mary; she is just as commonplace a little bairn as ever sat on a mother’s knee; but still, you see, she has been lost, and she has been found, and, therefore, they are rejoicing over her with great joy. All the prominence that Mary gets is not due to her goodness, but to the fact of the love that cannot bear that she should be lost. And it is so with you, my dear friend. We would move heaven and earth about you if we could; we would suspend the angels’ songs, and bid them lean upon their harps, and look on, while all heaven and earth, in the person of the Well-beloved, are seeking and saving that which is lost. So I bid you remember what interest is excited about you!

Next, notice what power and what wisdom are engaged concerning you,-you poor lost body over there! The Son of man is come to seek and to save you. It is not that the preacher is labouring to save the lost; but, do you see, the pearly gates are swinging back on their golden hinges, the King’s palace gates are opening, and there is One passing through, whose coming to the earth astounds cherubim and seraphim. It is he who descends, disrobing himself as he comes down, hanging up his royal rings like new stars, doffing his azure mantle, and stretching it across the sky, for, as George Herbert quaintly says, he has new clothes a-making down below. He comes here, to this poor earth, and you see him as a babe at Bethlehem, and a boy at Nazareth. Being here, he stoops continually lower and lower till he reaches the deepest depths of all upon the cross of Calvary. And, all the while he goes about his daily task, hunting for such as you. And what he literally did when he was here, he is still doing by the Divine Spirit; he is still watching, still waiting, still seeking, still going round the earth, hunting after the lost. It ought to greatly encourage you who are lost when you remember that there is such an one as the Lord Jesus Christ who has come after you. A child, lost in the wood, sits down, and cries. The night is coming on, she is very weary, and her sad little heart has only one comfort. “Father will begin to hunt after me directly he comes home; when mother tells him that his little girl is lost, he will search for me all night long; father knows the forest tracks, and knows where I have been wont to stray. Father will find me before the morning, so I will lay me down and sleep.” And, dear lost one, you may have even more confidence that the Saviour will search for you. Do not give up in despair because Jesus seems so long in coming to find you. He has a piercing eye to see you, and a swift foot to leap o’er mountains after you, and a ready hand to grasp you, and strong shoulders on which to bear his wandering sheep home to the fold above. There is hope for thee, lost one, for the Son of man has come, bringing all his Godhead with him; and, in the infinity of his power, and wisdom, and love, he is seeking to save just such sinners as thou art.

I want you, however, to notice another thing;-you lost one, I mean, for you and I are supposed to be talking together to-night. Do you see what trouble you have caused? The little child is troubled at being lost, but think what trouble there is at home on her account. Last Wednesday morning, there came into my study a brother-minister, and I saw at once that he was in terrible trouble. He had come to see me about something else, but I could not help saying to him, “You have some great sorrow on your heart, have you not?” He answered, “Yes, I have; I lost my wife a year and a half ago, and that was a great grief to me, but I have a trial now which seems to cut me to the heart almost more than that bereavement did.” “What is that?” I asked; and he replied, “Last Sabbath morning, when I went to preach, I thought my boy had come into the chapel with me; but, after the service, I could not find him. I went home, but he did not come in to dinner, and I could not get any tidings of him anywhere. I had to preach, in the evening, with a heavy heart; for still I could not find him, and I spent the greater part of the night with others searching everywhere for him. And now,” he said, “it is Wednesday, and I have not found him, nor have I heard a word concerning him.” Oh, you should have seen how sad he looked! “It is my eldest boy,” he said, “and he is lost.” Up to this present moment, I believe that he has not heard anything of him. He would compass the whole land to find him, I know; but he does not know where to look for him. The boy is lost; and, possibly, he does not know what trouble he is giving to his father and all his friends; if he did, he would very soon be home. Ah! and sinners do give great trouble because they are lost. You have heard what trouble sinners gave to the Lord Jesus Christ. That death of his upon the cross was part of the trouble that fell upon his great heart because we will sin,-because we will be lost,-because we will not turn unto him and live. What trouble many of you sinners give to your friends on earth, and what trouble you gave to the Lord Jesus Christ! It threw him into a bloody sweat even to think of you as lost, and to take your place, and bear the penalty of your guilt.

There is one other reflection, which will not, I hope, wipe out this one; that is, what joy you would give if you were found! Oh, what clapping of hands there would be, and what singing of songs of thanksgiving, in your home, if you have a pious mother or a godly father! Sometimes, members of this church come to speak with me; and I know, by their manner, that there is something very joyful that they have to tell ma. They do not laugh, they seem very quiet about their joy; but there is a deep under-current of gladness. One said to me, lately, “God has been very gracious to me, for both my son and my daughter have just found the Saviour.” You know that fathers and mothers, when they are right-hearted, are much more glad about such good news as this than they are when they say, “My son has gained a fortune,” or, “My daughter has married into a rich family.” Oh, no! to be able to say they are saved is the best thing that can possibly be said about them. I feel such gladness as I never can express when I think of my own dear sons, whom God has brought to the feet of Jesus, and called to preach the gospel which their father loves. O you poor sad sinners, you would be the cause of great joy on earth, if you came to Christ; and you would make Christ himself glad, too. That is the greatest wonder of all,-that he, who sits upon the throne of God in bliss ineffable, can have an increase to his joy if you are saved. Yet we know that it is so, for “there is joy”-not only among the angels,-but Christ said, “there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth;” that is to say, it is God himself who has the joy, and Christ who rejoices over one sinner that repenteth.

That is my special word with you, poor lost sinner. May God bless it to you, and may you speedily be found by the seeking Saviour!

Now I come to the closing portion of my discourse, which is to be a word to ourselves.

My dear brothers and sisters, the workers in this church, I want to speak to you, and to myself; and what I want to say is just this,-if Jesus Christ, the Son of man, has come to seek and to save that which was lost, what honourable work is yours and mine when we try to be the means of saving souls! The Grand Worthy Chief Master of the confraternity of soul-winners is our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Those who belong to that blessed company have Jesus Christ as their Head. I always feel that it is a high honour to be a minister of the gospel when I recollect what the old Puritan said. He said that the Lord God had only one Son, and he made a Minister of him; what could he do better with him? So, to-day, there is no higher rank on earth than that of a winner of souls. Be you in whatever position in life you may, if you are seeking to bring eternal salvation to men, you have far higher employment than falls to the lot of the mightiest of earth’s kings and princes.

Next, think how thorough your efforts ought to be in this work. You ought to go after souls, to seek them, as the Son of man came to seek them. If they will not come into the place where you usually speak, go and speak to them where they are. If you have not got the children you want to have in your class in the Sunday-school, go and seek to bring them in; and then, when you have sought them, and gathered them around you, do not be satisfied till they are saved. It is a great mercy to have the house of prayer filled with people listening to the gospel. I am always glad to see such a sight; but, oh! if you hearers are not saved, what is the good of your coming here? If my Master will not give me your souls for my hire, I can scarcely thank him for allowing me to preach to you, for I am doing you harm rather than good, being “the savour of death unto death,” rather than “of life unto life,” if you hear the Word, but are not saved by it. O dear unsaved souls, we can never be satisfied concerning you until you are truly converted to God! Dear Christian workers, do not rest until those who listen to the gospel message, believe it, and so find eternal salvation.

Notice, next, how naturally some of you ought to take to the work of soul-winning. When a child is lost, who should seek it? Why, its mother and father, of course; they are sure to do so. Well, do you seek the souls of your own children? Do you pray for them? Do you pray with them? Do you try, by your teaching, and by your example, to bring them to Christ? If you do not, shame on you that you bear the Christian name! I hope all of you who are Christian parents are seeking the salvation of your own children. The next person to go in search of a lost child, after its parents, I should think, is its brother. A lad hears that his dear little sister is lost. I see the hot tears in the boy’s eyes as he says, “Mother, I will go anywhere, I will go everywhere, if I can but find her.” Well, now, you who are brothers, you who are related to one another,-and you are all brothers of the one great human family,-you all ought, for that very reason, to be concerned about finding these lost ones. But if there is one member of the family who is affected the most by the loss of the child, it is, probably, the older sister who was specially charged to take care of it; or if the big brother is responsible, because the child was entrusted to his charge, he will not be able to bear himself. He will cry, “Oh, that I should have lost her!-that I should be the cause of her wandering away!” He will not rest at night, I am sure, unless he has found her. Some of us are very specially put in charge of souls. You teachers are; you evangelists are; you ministers are; and I am, as I know full well. What if I should ever be the cause of the loss of any one of you? I would not have it so; God grant that it may never be, that any word of mine, spoken in a thoughtless manner, or anything that I might say too coldly, or with too much levity, should ever lead an immortal spirit to turn away from hope and from the Lord Jesus Christ! It would be a dreadful thing if that were to happen; and if it ever has, let us henceforth be among the first to seek to find those who have gone astray.

I will tell you, too, who would be sure to look after a lost child; and that is, a child who was himself once lost, and who has been found. It may have happened years ago, but the lad says to his mother, “I know what it is to be lost, for I was once lost in a wood. Let me go and find the little one, as somebody came and found me.” You who know the smart of sin, the sorrow that sin brings, will be amongst the very first to try to find the lost ones. I am sure you will, so I scarcely need say a word to urge you to this holy service.

Then there are those who are acquainted with the ground where the lost ones are; they are sure to go to seek them. A child lost in our London streets will probably be found again, but a child lost in the backwoods of America may never be discovered until its bones are found. We, who know the dangers of the road,-that roaring lion, those pitfalls and traps,-we cannot but feel that we must be amongst the first to go to seek the lost.

“Oh, come, let us go and find them!

In the paths of death they roam;

At the close of the day ’twill be sweet to say,

‘I have brought some lost one home.’ ”

And we may, with great hopefulness, go about the work of seeking the lost, because there is One with us, in the seeking party, who is sure to find them. “Come,” we say to one another, “let us gather together, and let us go, and search the woods, to find the lost one;” but we know so little about the work, and we are so weak and feeble, that we soon become dispirited. But here comes the One who is going to lead the search-party! You know him; look at his pierced hands, and feet, and brow. Mark that ensign of the Son of man, the spear-gash in his side. Look at his dear face; was there ever, on any other countenance, such beauty of compassionate love? He comes forward, girt with his golden girdle, with his eyes brighter than flames of fire; and he says, “I will lead the search. You take your orders from me; I will tell you where to go, and I will go with you; and, so, my lost ones shall all be found.” Dear Master, we are only too glad to go on such an errand. Thou shalt not have to tell us twice; and if any of us are inclined to linger, we think we see thee lift thy piercèd hand, and say, “Who will go for me? and whom shall I send?” and many of us, rising in our seats, would fain uplift our hand, and dedicate ourselves from this very moment to this blessed service, each one of us saying, “Here am I, Lord; send me.” Go thus, brethren and sisters, in the Holy Spirit’s might, and in your Saviour’s name; and may he enable you to bring home, with rejoicing, many of the lost ones; and to him shall be all the glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

MATTHEW 21:23-46.

Verse 23. And when he was come into the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came unto him as he was teaching, and said, By what authority doest thou these things? and who gave thee this authority?

Jesus knew that these men came to him for no good purpose, and that they were only trying to trip him up in his speech. He was always willing to teach when men were willing to learn, but he did not care to cast his pearls before swine. Therefore, mark the holy caution, the sacred ingenuity with which our Lord replied to these men.

24-27. And Jesus answered and said unto them, I also will ask you one thing, which if ye tell me, I in likewise will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven, or of men? And they reasoned with themselves, saying, If we shall say, From heaven; he will say unto us, Why did ye not then believe him? But if we shall say, Of men; we fear the people; for all hold John as a prophet. And they answered Jesus, and said, We cannot tell. And he said unto them, Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things.

He carried the war into the enemy’s camp. He answered his accusers by asking them a question which they could not answer in either way without condemning themselves.

28-32. But what think ye? A certain man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not: but afterward he repented, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir: and went not. Whether of them twain did the will of his father? They say unto him, The first. Jesus saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not: but the publicans and the harlots believed him: and ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him.

Those poor fallen women and degraded tax-gatherers practically said, by their conduct, “We will not serve the Lord.” Their past evil life had been a deliberate rejection of the authority of God; and yet, when John the Baptist came, they repented, and they believed. Each of them had said, like the elder son, “I will not,” yet they did it. But as for these chief priests and elders, who all their lives had been outwardly serving the Lord, and saying, “We will go, and work in God’s vineyard,” when John came, and pointed them to God’s own Son, they would not accept him. They had, just now, by refusing to tell whether the Lord’s messenger was from heaven or of men, again rejected him, and proved that they had not repented. They did not believe John, they had themselves confessed that it was so; and, therefore, out of their own mouths they were condemned.

I wonder whether there is any lesson in this parable to some who are here; I should not be surprised if there is. I hope that there are some among you, who hitherto have said, “I will not go,” who will repent, and go and serve your God; and, on the other hand, it is to be feared that there may be some here, who have always been saying, “I go, sir,” who nevertheless have not gone, and perhaps never will go; but will remain to the last disobedient to the command of God. The Lord grant that it may not be so!

33-41. Hear another parable: There was a certain householder, which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country: and when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive the fruits of it. And the husbandmen took his servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. Again, he sent other servants more than the first: and they did unto them likewise. But last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, They will reverence my son. But when the husbandmen saw the son, they said among themselves, This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and let us seize on his inheritance. And they caught him, and cast him out of the vineyard, and slew him. When the lord therefore of the vineyard cometh, what will he do unto those husbandmen? They say unto him, He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other husbandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their seasons.

You see at once how this parable related to the leaders of the Jewish people. From generation to generation, they scorned the prophets of God, persecuted them, and put them to death; and when our Lord himself appeared, though his glory might easily have been seen by them, yet they cast him out from among them, and put him to death. Yet, beloved friends, we must never regard the Scriptures as referring only to strangers and people of past ages; we must also look to see what bearing they have upon ourselves. The rejection of God’s prophets is the sin of our common humanity; and the murder of the Son of God was the crime, not of the Jews only, but of the whole human race. We, too, have a share in it, for we have rejected the Son of the Highest.

“But we were not there,” say you. No; and yet we may have repeated that terrible tragedy in our own lives. God has sent you many messengers; and if you remain, at this moment, unconverted, you have not treated them well, else you would have yielded your heart to God. Some of them you have rejected by your neglect, and others have been the subject of your ridicule and contempt. Against some, you have striven violently, for your own conscience has been touched, and you have had to do violence to conscience in order to reject their message. Last of all, the Son of God himself has come to you in the preaching of the gospel. You have heard of his death, and of his atoning sacrifice, but you have rejected them; and, in acting thus, you have done, as far as you could, the same as they did who crucified the Saviour. You still refuse to have him for your Saviour; you disown him as your King; you strive against his righteous sway.

You tell me that you do not. Well, then, you have yielded to him, and you are saved. But if that be not the case, you still remain such an adversary of God that you reject his Son. Take care lest of you also that prophecy should become true, “He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other husbandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their seasons.”

42. Jesus saith unto them, Did ye never read in the scriptures,-

What a question this was for our Lord to put to men who professed to have the whole of the Scriptures at their fingers’ ends, and to be the only qualified interpreters of them: “Did ye never read in the Scriptures,”-

42, 43. The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner: this is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes? Therefore say I unto you, The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.

And, at this day, we Gentiles enjoy the privileges of the gospel, while poor Israel is scattered to the four winds of heaven. But he, that spared not the natural olive, will not spare the engrafted branches if we are found unfruitful. God takes the gospel away from one nation, and gives it to another; but if it is not accepted by the other one, and if he has not all the glory of it ascribed to him, he will take it away from that nation, too. He may deal thus with us; if England becomes and remains a drunken nation, a cruel nation, a proud nation, an unbelieving nation, a superstitious nation, and brings forth the evil fruits of the vine of Sodom, we may not expect that God will always continue his kingdom amongst us. He will say to us, as Christ said to these chief priests and elders, “The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.”

44. And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken:

If you stumble over Christ, the chief Corner-stone of God’s building, you will be broken in pieces. If you reject him, you shall suffer serious loss.

44. But on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder.

If you arouse the wrath of Christ, and the Rock of ages falls on you,-as a huge cliff comes toppling from its lofty height upon the traveller, and crushes him past all recognition,-you will be ground to powder.

45, 46. And when the chief priests and Pharisees had heard his parables, they perceived that he spake of them. But when they sought to lay hands on him, they feared the multitude, because they took him for a prophet.

Unhappy people, to reject him who alone could bless them, and yet to stand in fear of him whom they tried to despise! Let it not be so with any of us, but may Jesus become our Teacher, and our Friend, and our Saviour for ever, by his abounding grace! Amen.

VICTORIOUS FAITH

A Sermon

Intended for Reading on Lord’s-day, December 15th, 1901, delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington,

On Lord’s-day Evening, August 24th, 1879.

“For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God?”-1 John 5:4, 5.

What is this “world” that we have to overcome? Did not God make the world, and did he not see “every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good”? Yes, he did; but, after sin entered this world, men came under its power, and, now, by “the world” is meant all mankind who remain under the power of sin, and are enemies to God. “The world” means the whole corrupt mass of human society out of which God has taken a people whom he has chosen for himself, whom he quickens by his Divine Spirit, and whose business it is to overcome the world. They will find that the world-the power of evil-will war against them, and they also must war against it, and the issue of the battle must not long be doubtful. There remains for us only one of two courses; either the world must overcome us, and we must yield to it; or, else, we must overcome the world, and cause it to submit to us.

The apostle helps us to understand what he means by “the world” by what he says in the third verse: “This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments: and his commandments are not grievous.” Now, anything which makes us think that God’s will is grievous is of the spirit of the world, against which we have to fight. If, for instance, we are tempted to think that the restrictions of God’s law-his commandments and precepts-are too stringent, it is the spirit of the world which tempts us so to think; for “his commandments are not grievous” to those who truly love him. It is only to the rebellious world that the restrictions of God appear to be too stringent, or that the commands of Christ become burdensome. If we are suffering pain or poverty, or whatever form of trial we may be called to endure, if we are tempted to say, “God is dealing harshly with us, he is unkind to us,” that also is manifesting the spirit of the world against which we are to contend until we conquer it. For God’s will is always right; and if we really love him, we shall own that it is right; and though, for a while, we may have to fight against the spirit of rebellion, yet, if we are indeed God’s children, we must get the mastery over that spirit of evil; and, so, the will of God, even when it involves pain, weakness, shame, or death itself, shall still be perfectly agreeable to us because it is the will of God. We have not completely conquered the spirit of the world until we can truthfully say that the commandments of God, so far from being grievous to us, are acceptable simply because they come from him.

Now I propose, as God shall help me, first, to speak of the conquest itself; then, of the conquering nature: “whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world;” and, thirdly, of the conquering weapon: “this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.”

First, then, concerning the conquest itself. What is it to overcome the world?

Certainly, it is not to go about the world blustering and bullying everybody until they all lie prostrate at our feet; because, if we could accomplish such a feat as that, the world would, in such a case, have overcome us, and we should not have conquered it. We should have displayed a spirit and temper betokening the pride of power,-the desire to rule over others,-and this love would have mastered us. Alexander the Great, when he was master of the whole world, was the greatest slave within it, for he was discontented even with his victories; the pride of conquest held him in captivity by its iron chain. No; he who aims at the highest greatness in this world may only be more greatly selfish than the rest of mankind, and what is that but to be really little? He is truly great who is the most unselfish, and he is the least of all who lives for himself alone.

Neither is it overcoming the world if you try to get out of it, and to live by yourself, so as never to be tempted to sin. I have seen a man on his knees by the hour together, reading some pious Latin book, living in a monastery where he never spoke;-he had evidently conquered his tongue, because he gave no answer to anybody who ever spoke to him. He was reckoned, by his brother-monks, to have overcome the world; but had he really done so? Ask any soldier whether a man, who slinks away in the day of battle, and hides among the baggage, and does not fight at all, is a conqueror. That would be a very easy way of winning a victory,-just to escape from the fight,-to be of no service in the battle between good and evil, but just to hide away in your own little snuggery over there, in the monastery, or the convent, or the hermitage; it might be an easy way of believing that you had conquered because you had ceased to fight, but that delusion would not make the victory yours. No, brethren; you and I have to roll up our shirt-sleeves, and go into the world, and work like other people; we have to mingle with our fellow-men, and, as the Lord God said to Adam, in the sweat of our face have we to eat our bread. It may be our occupation to have to add up those long columns of figures, or to measure up those bales of goods, or to talk to our fellow-men on various matters; but, whatever our employment may be, we have to be in the world, and we have to conquer it; to be in the world, yet not of it,-as much separated from the rest of mankind as if we belonged to an alien race;-conquerors of it wherever we go, not by getting out of it, but by mingling with the men and women in it,-doing all that is lawful and right, and all that is expected that a man should do to his fellow-men; yet, all the while, being conquerors over the evil spirit of the world.

Now, having shown you what this conquest of the world is not, let us turn to the positive side of the question, and see what it is. The first thing that is necessary with many who are seeking to overcome the world is, to cut themselves loose from the world’s customs. They were born into the world; one man has his own little world, and another man has another little world; but every man, sooner or later, finds himself in a world of sin. There are ungodly companions with whom he is linked,-evil associations to which he is bound. There are some men who, in their unconverted state, give themselves up entirely to the pleasures of the world, the amusements and frivolities of what is called “Society.” Now, if such men ever expect to overcome the world, the very first thing they must do is to cut their old connections altogether, to sever all the bonds which unite them to those who lead them into sin.

Such a thing has often happened as for a man, who has been the best of company, and the choicest of good fellows among worldlings, to sit down in quietness for half an hour, and God the Holy Ghost has wrought so mightily upon his heart that he has said to himself, “What have I been doing but playing the fool to make other fools laugh? How am I spending my time? I must honestly say that I am doing no real good with it. What am I making of my manhood? Here it is,-well-nigh six feet of it, and it will soon lie in six feet of earth;-what am I doing that is really worth the doing? Am I not really wasting my time? This style of living will not do.” Ah! the blessed Spirit has begun working in the man, and he has wept before his God as he has thought over his wasted life. Further, he has, by faith, looked to Jesus on the cross, and he has said, “Thou, blessed Saviour, hast redeemed me; so, henceforth, I will be thine. As I live by thee, I will live for thee, and for my fellow-men.” After arriving, by God’s grace, at that decision, he has become a different man from what he used to be. His old companions could not get him back to his former haunts, however much they might try to do so. Even if he should go there, they would not long want him with them, for he would not be any longer of their way of thinking or their way of acting, for he would be a changed man altogether.

There are many of you who would like to come to that decision, but you never appear willing actually to decide to serve the Lord; you are always going to do it, yet you never do it. You hesitating people are the most unhappy folk in the whole world, for you neither get comfort out of your present condition, nor out of that better condition after which you sometimes aspire, but which you have not the courage resolutely to seek after until you find it. Some men have just enough conscience to make them miserable, but they have not enough force in it to make them determine that things shall be altered. Their religion is very much like the experience of certain boys who, professedly, go out to bathe in the early morning. They put their toes into the water, and shiver all over with the cold; but the brave swimmer takes a header, plunges right in, is soon in a fine glow, and comes out praising the delightful bath he has had. I would urge every man who is just now upon the point of deciding,-and I pray God the Holy Spirit, with his almighty energy, to back up my urging,-that he may now say,-

“ ’Tis done,-the great transaction’s done,

I am my Lord’s, and he is mine.”

I pray that he may henceforth be a changed man, that he may forsake his former evil ways, and live wholly unto God. That is the first part of overcoming the world,-breaking loose from its bonds, so that one can say, “I am not tied down by it any longer; by God’s grace, I am a free man in Christ Jesus.”

But that emancipation is merely a beginning. Overcoming the world further consists in maintaining that freedom. Oh, what a work is this! It is no child’s play for a man to say, “No, I will never again be the slave that I used to be. By God’s eternal grace, I have broken off this fetter and that, and never again shall those chains be fastened upon me. Great God, by thine almighty love, thou hast loosed my bonds; I am thy free man; I am free indeed, and I will fight for my freedom, and under no possible circumstances will I go back again to my old slavery.” Ay, but that fight is the difficulty; and I shall have to show you that nobody can be victorious in that fight unless he is one of a peculiar race,-those who are born of God, born from above. This is a stern battle;-when the world surrounds us everywhere,-when pleasure tempts us,-when gain tries to corrupt us,-when poverty assails us,-when evil company seeks to sway us,-it is hard for us to come right straight out of all our former associations, and then to keep out,-remaining conquerors over the world throughout the whole of the rest of our life; and being conquerors even in death, having vanquished the world even on our dying bed.

Part of the overcoming of the world consists in our being raised above circumstances. Remember how the apostle Paul had conquered the world. He sat in prison shivering with the cold; but he said, “I know how to be abased.” He went, by-and-by, into the houses of some of his friends, where they gave him all that he could desire; and he said, “I know how to abound.” It is not an easy thing to be such a master of the world that the utmost poverty cannot make you miserable; yet God can give you grace to say, “I can be poor, but I will be upright. I can lose every stick that I have, but I will stand fast by Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour; and while I have him, I cannot be cast down.”

I say that the fight against poverty is a very stern one; but the battle against the seductions of wealth is a far sterner one. Perhaps some of you think that you would like to fight that battle; I daresay you would, but you do not know what you are wishing. I see many men who are very gracious under all sorts of want; and I see many other men who, in proportion as they grow rich in worldly things, grow poor as to spiritual things. Very often, just in proportion as men get high in earthly position, in that proportion they cease to do anything that is of any particular service to anybody. I do not know what would become of any of us if we were made peers of the realm. It is, I have no doubt, a great trial to anybody to be so exalted; but there is scarcely a person here who could wear a coronet, and yet faithfully serve the Lord; and probably there is not a man or a woman among us who could endure the trial of being made a king or a queen. It needs more than a world of grace to overcome the world when the world makes much of you. When God does give us piety in high places, as, blessed be his holy name, he sometimes does, we ought to be most grateful for it, for it is a plant that does not grow well in such a situation as that. The old couplet is still true,-

“Gold and the gospel seldom do agree,

Religion always aides with poverty.”

It has been so from the first, and I suppose it will be so to the last. But the true conquest of the world is, to be indifferent about all such things,-to be grateful for abounding mercies, and to be grateful even for straitened circumstances. They used to say, “Philosophers can be merry without music,” and, certainly, Christians can be happy without having their cup perpetually full. “I have learned,” said the apostle Paul, “in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” Happy are all they who have learned the same lesson, for this is overcoming the world.

Once more, dear friends, to overcome the world is, to be above its threats, and above its bribes. You working-men, who are Christians, often have a hard time of it; but when your work-mates mock and jeer at you, and call you ill names, never mind them. Overcome the world by patiently enduring all the persecution that falls to your lot. Do not get angry; and do not become downhearted. Jests break no bones; and if you had any bone broken for Christ’s sake, it would be the most honoured one in your whole body. Still, you need not wish to have the friendship of this world, and you must not expect to have it, for the world loves not God’s people. Look how it served them in ages gone by; hanging was thought to be too good for them, so it roasted them alive. The world would have exterminated the saints if it could have done so; and, to-day, what does the world say of Christians? “Oh! they are either fools or fanatics, or else they are a set of canting hypocrites.” If a man preaches the gospel, and many are drawn to hear him, cavillers cry, “Oh! he is a mountebank.” If any Christian man is very precise and particular, they say, “Ugh! he is one of the snivelling Puritans.” They never know anything bad enough to say of genuine Christians. They do not like us; it were a pity that they should, for they did not like our Master, and they do not like our Father. If we will consent to hide our doctrines, or to daub them over with the philosophical luminous paint of the present period, they will put up with us; but if we bring out pure gospel truth, straightway they will be down upon us. Yet there are some of God’s people that the world does love, when they do the world a good turn. If their love to man leads them to a high philanthropy, and if the world can get anything out of them, it does not mind loving them. It has a cupboard love even to saints; and if there is any profit to be made out of them, the world will love them, though not their saintship. They like Mr. So-and-So as a politician; but when it comes to his religion, they say, “That is his weak point.” They do not care to interfere with that. They admire another man because of his care for the poor,-the widow and the fatherless; but they hate the doctrine of the cross which he delights to preach, and which is to him the very joy of his heart.

On the other hand, when the world cannot frighten us by frowns, it often tries to woo us by smiles. “Oh!” it cries to us, “you really are righteous overmuch, you are too good. You need not be so precise; come just a little way with us, yield only an inch, that is all we ask.” No, brethren, yield no inches for all the smiles on this Jezebel’s painted face; but stand out just as boldly against her blandishments as against her thunderbolts. Care nothing for her opinion or her action either way; for, if you do, you will not have overcome the world. God help us, by his gracious Spirit, to be conquerors in that sense!

To overcome the world, further, means to be above the influence of the world’s example. As I said before, we have, each one of us, our own little world; and we all are, to a certain degree, subject to the influences of those who surround us. The young man, in business, who begins as a Christian, is too often influenced by the pernicious maxims and customs of the trade with which he is connected. Men mingle in society, and each one to some extent affects the others. How often is a pious child grievously affected by an ungodly parent! How frequently a gracious servant is ill-affected by an ungodly master or mistress! But if you really overcome the world, you will live above its influence. You will be like one, who is obliged to go where the air is foul, and disease is rife, but who has such a healthy constitution that he does not catch the disease, and is not polluted by the impurity. There is no seed-plot within him for the disease to grow upon. Blessed is that man who is himself an example to his fellows,-who does not so much come under the influence of others as cast his own influence over others. God make all of you, beloved, such true leaders of mankind in the right direction because you have yourselves overcome the world!

If you want to see the portrait of a man who overcame the world, look at Abraham. He was at home with his father in Haran, and God said to him, “Come forth;” and away he went, with Sarah, and Lot, and their flocks and herds. The well-watered plain of Jordan lay before him, and he might have settled in it, as Lot did; but it did not tempt him, he dwelt alone, with his flocks and his herds, where God had bidden him go. The king of Sodom, and Abraham’s nephew, Lot, were carried away captive; and, for the sake of Lot, Abraham went with a band of men, smote the allied kings, and delivered the prisoners. The king of Sodom said to him, “Give me the persons, and take the goods to thyself.” Now, according to the rules of war, the spoil was all Abraham’s; but, oh, how grandly did he behave! He was not going to be conquered by the world, so he said to the king of Sodom, “I will not take from a thread even to a shoelatchet, I will not take any thing that is thine, lest thou shouldest say, I have made Abram rich;”-which was as much as saying, “I have a right to it if I like to take it, but I waive my rights. I act from higher motives than the ordinary rules of men can supply; the Lord Jehovah is my Helper and Provider, and I live upon what he gives me. He can make me rich without the help of the king of Sodom, so take your goods, and go.” See also how nobly he overcame the world on that memorable day when God said, “I will now see whether Abraham really does love me best of all. He has one boy,-the child of his old age,-and I will tell him to offer him up in sacrifice.” And grandly did the patriarch, in that fiery trial, overcome the world; for Isaac was, practically, all the world to him on that day when he unsheathed the knife, and proved that his love to God was superior to everything else; and this is the kind of conquest to which you, beloved, are also called. May God grant that you may be well equipped for it, and be truly victorious in it!

Now, secondly, I think you will be prepared, after my giving this explanation of what it is to overcome the world, to hear about the conquering nature: “Whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world.”

Do you all know what it is to be born of God? I do not think I can tell you, in so many words, exactly what it is, though I know for myself. It is not simply to be improved and reformed. It is a grand thing when a man, who has been degraded, lives in a better fashion; but a cobbler might take an old shoe, and mend it, yet that would not make it a new one. Being born of God is also more than being made anew. It includes that, but that is not all that it includes. For God, who makes all things, can new-make them when he pleases; yet that does not make them to be born of him. We all know what it is for one person to be born of another; you were all born of your father, and of your mother, and so you became partakers of your parents’ nature. In like manner, only in a far higher sense, regeneration is more than creation, for there is in it a kinship with God. So, being born again makes us something more than God’s creatures; we are God’s children. You know that blessed truth of adoption, by which God takes men, and adopts them into his family; but regeneration is a great deal more than adoption. A man may have an adopted child, but yet it is really no child of his; there is nothing of himself in it, and he cannot put his nature into it. But we are not only God’s adopted children; if we are indeed born from above, we are God’s newborn children; The divine nature is actually put into us when we are born of God; is not that a wonderful thing? And that miracle of mercy must be wrought in all of us who are ever to overcome the world.

For notice this, no nature but the divine nature will ever try to overcome the world. By nature, we are of the world; and that which is of the world will not fight against the world, it will not even think of doing so. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh;” and flesh will not fight against flesh. Our Lord Jesus said to the Jews, “Ye are of your father the devil;” but the devil will not fight against the world, or try to overcome it, for his course is the course of this world, he is the prince of it. But where the divine nature comes, it comes to fight against the world. The holy nature of God never enters into a man but what that man cries, “Now will I be wholly free from sin; now will I shake off every fetter of it.” “Now,” saith he, under the power of this divine inner life, “I do scorn the thought that I, who am born of God, should be a slave to sin,-that I, who bear within me something of the Deity,-I, who am a twice-born man, begotten again by God the everlasting Father, of whom I have become a child,-I loathe the very idea of yielding to sin.” That is the kind of man to overcome the world because of the divine nature within him.

For, see, the regenerated man is sure to overcome the world, when he goes to fight against it, because, first, he has the Spirit of the Father in him. Now, God the Father is the world’s Creator; so the world can never be a match for its Creator. He made it, and he can destroy it whenever he pleases to do so. It is not possible that sin should overcome God, for, as the apostle James tells us, “God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.” He is by nature perfectly holy; and when this divine nature is put into a man, it is still holy, and it cannot sin, because it is born of God.

This new nature is also akin to the nature of Christ; and you know how the second Person of the blessed Trinity-the Christ of God,-dwelt here among men, and the world could never overcome him. Men could kill him, and they did; but they could not make him sin. They could drive him from place to place; but they could not make him angry, they could not provoke him to speak any word that he might afterwards regret. They could never get anything from him which was worthy of reproach or of rebuke. They called all the witnesses they could to testify against him; but even the false witnesses could not agree together, for he was “holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners.” And even on the cross of Calvary, when they hung him up to die, his dying pangs could extort from him nothing but a prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And thus he conquered the world, for the human nature in him, blended with the divine, could not be conquered by the world, it was not possible.

Further, we become akin to the Divine Spirit by being born of God, and the Holy Spirit cannot be conquered by the world. It is he that doth convince the world of sin. It is he that shall yet win this world for Christ. He is omnipotent; so, when the Spirit of God dwelleth within us, as he does when we receive the divine nature, it is not possible that he should be conquered, or that we should be conquered by the world.

Now, men and brethren, hearken to these words. Do you not see that you must overcome the world, or else you will perish? But you cannot overcome the world as you are. You must, therefore, be born again. Your only hope lies in your being born of God; and this, if it is ever to take place, must be God’s work. It is God alone who can do it; so you are like ships on their beam-ends, you cannot “right” yourselves. Cry, therefore, with your whole heart unto God, and ask him to work this miracle in you.” Salvation is of the Lord.” He can save you. He can take away the heart of stone out of your flesh, and give you a heart of flesh. He can breathe upon the dry bones, and make them live. Ay, he, the mysterious Father of our spirits, can create in us a new spirit that shall be begotten of himself, and be like unto himself; and this we must have, or we can never overcome the world.

Now, thirdly, and lastly, I have to speak of the conquering weapon which is used by this new nature: “This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith.”

It never entered into my head that the most of professing Christians would ever overcome the world. I do not think they ever will, for the world has, to a large extent, overcome them. You may hear some of them asking, “How far may we go in worldly amusements?” You really want to go, do you not? Then go; for it does not matter much where such people as you are do go. “Oh, but we should like to go as far into the world as we might!” Would you? Then, my Lord’s message to you is, “Ye must be born again.” It is quite evident that you have not the nature of God in you, for the divine nature in the soul makes it start back, and say, “How far can I get away from anything that looks like wrong? I hate the very appearance of evil.” The Christian man does not deny himself this or that, merely because he feels under an obligation to do so, or because he dreads the lash of God’s whip. No; if he could indulge his new nature to the full, he would continually swim in the sea of perfection. If he could be what he wishes to be, he would never think a wrong thought, much less speak an evil word. Now, the divine nature that is in him fights against sin, it cannot help doing so; and it clings to that which is good, and craves after that which is right. Just as the ox longs to drink water, and stands in a pool of it on a hot day, and drinks and drinks again, so does the Christian seek to drink in the life and purity of God;-not because he is told to do so, or because some outside force operates upon him; but because the new nature is within him, and he longs, therefore, to indulge it to the full; and that new nature, being the nature of God, longeth after that which is pure, and lovely, and of good report.

The instrument with which this new nature fights against the world is faith; and faith conquers, first, by regarding the unseen reward which awaits us. The world comes, and offers pleasure as the reward of sin; but faith says, “There are greater pleasures to be had by abstaining from sin.” The world says, “Take this gain to-day;” but faith says, “No, I will put what I have out at interest; there is something infinitely better to be had hereafter.” In its beginning, faith generally works in that way; it despises all the treasures of Egypt, and values far more the eternal rewards that Christ has laid up for it in heaven. But do you not see that there is a measure of selfishness there in both cases? The sinner sins in order to be happy, as he thinks; and the newborn man abstains from sin in order to be happy. Well, that is a good thing to do, though the motive be not the most commendable; and there is a measure of faith about it, for faith is looking for the future rewards, and believes in the heaven which God hath prepared for them that love him.

But as faith grows, it attains to something better than that; for it recognizes the unseen Presence which is with us. The world says, “Come with us, and go our way. We will pat you on the back; and say that you are a good fellow; and you will have a fine time if you come with us,” But faith says, “I do not trouble about how I appear to your eye, for there is another eye which I can see, but which you cannot see, for God is looking at me, and I am most of all concerned to be right in his sight.” Faith realizes that the newborn nature is in the divine presence, and thus makes God’s presence to be just as real, and just as vivid as the presence of men; and that presence of God altogether outweighs the presence of men, and the believing soul says to the world, “To please you, I dare not do that which is wrong in the sight of God; for who are you, compared with the Most High God? I will not do wrong in order to escape your frown; for, by so doing, I should receive the frown of God, and I must maintain my integrity before him.”

That, you see, is a higher position than the one I first mentioned; for faith not only regards the unseen reward which awaits the believer, but faith recognizes the unseen presence of God, and is moved by an all-constraining desire to please him.

That was a very striking incident in the life of our dear brother Oncken, of Germany, when the burgomaster of Hamburg said to him, “I hear, sir, that you have been baptizing at night.” “I have, sir,” he replied, “because the law will not permit me to do it by day.” “How dare you immerse these persons?” asked the burgomaster. “I dare to do it,” answered Mr. Oncken, “because it is the law of God.” “And you have done it in defiance of the law of the land! Now, sir, do you see that little finger of mine?” “Yes,” replied Mr. Oncken, “I see it.” “Well, sir, as long as that little finger lives, I will keep you down, for I am determined to put an end to this movement.” “But, Mr. Burgomaster,” said Mr. Oncken, “not only can I see your little finger, but I can also see a great arm, which you do not see. That is the arm of the eternal God; and as long as that arm can move, you will not be able to put me down, for I am only doing the will of Jehovah.” Years after that stormy scene, I went to preach in Hamburg in connection with the opening of my brother Oncken’s chapel; and among the notable gentlemen who helped to honour that occasion by their presence was that very burgomaster. He still had his little finger, but he was not there to put Mr. Oncken down. He came to contribute to Mr. Oncken’s work, and to show that the great arm of God had beaten the little finger of the burgomaster. That kind of experience has been many times repeated in the world. The men of the world resolve to put us down, but it cannot be done. If we were simply of men, we might be put down; but we are of God, and the divine nature in us must conquer in the long run.

When faith rises still further, it feels that the soul so loves God, and so wishes to delight in him, and becomes so closely united to God, that it takes pleasure in all that in which God takes pleasure. It is true faith that believes that God takes pleasure in the humble actions of poor creatures such as we are; but our faith has that confidence. It believes God to be a kind and tender Father, delighting in what his children do; and, therefore, faith says, “I cannot grieve him; so, begone from me, sinful world! Away with your gold, and your silver, and your smiles, and your frowns; I dare not be influenced by any of these things, and so grieve my God.” And, daily, as faith grows stronger and stronger, it tramples the world more and more under its feet, and altogether abhors it.

To the genuine Christian, Christ is life’s one aim. He sets that mark before him, and shoots at it. I once saw a colonel shooting at a target. There were two targets near each other, and he made a centre at one of them. The attendant called out, “Which target was that gentleman shooting at?” “The one on the left,” was the answer. “I thought so,” said the man, “for he hit the one on the right.” There are some people who are always shooting at the world, and it seems to be their great aim to hit it; but the Christian man is ever aiming at Christ; and if he has not made the centre yet, he will shoot again and again until he does, for his great desire is that he may live for Christ alone, and be found in him, not having his own righteousness, “which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.”

So, I hope you see that, if faith be the conquering weapon, and we intend to be conquerors, we must become believers in the invisible God; and in order to exercise faith in the invisible God in Christ Jesus, we must be born again; for, until that new nature comes into us, we never do believe in Christ. We may believe a great deal in ourselves, we may believe in worldly society, in its threats, or in its bribes; but we do not believe in Christ. But how blessed is that man who, at the last, will be able to say, “I have faithfully served my God. I have turned neither to the right hand nor to the left. I have not considered myself; I have courted no man’s praise, I have not sought pelf or gain. What I had to spare, I gave to God’s cause and to the poor. What I could gather, I distributed according to the necessities of my fellow-men. I have lived for God, and for Christ, and for the truth; but I have not lived for myself.” The man who can truthfully say that is a saved man. Whether you know it or not, my friend, that is salvation,-to be saved from sin and from self; and there is no getting salvation from the grovelling meannesses of selfishness except by being born again; for self clings to every man until he is born again, and it is not always gone even then. Satan spoke the truth when he said to the Lord, “Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life.” He will not be ready to part with life itself until he gets a higher life, and a better one, imparted to him by the Spirit of God.

Again I say that this truth throws us on our beam-ends. If we are to be saved, we must look to God; we must seek salvation at his hands, we must ask him for faith; and what a mercy it is that he waits to give it! You be nothing, and God will be everything to you. Get to the end of yourself, and that will be a proof that God has already begun with you. Cease to believe in your own merits, or your own virtues; put away all trust in yourself; and come and trust in God as he is revealed in his Son Jesus Christ; and you have received that salvation which will keep on progressing until all sin shall be driven out of you, and you shall dwell for ever where Jesus is,-as unselfish as Jesus is,-as pure, as blessed, as glorious as he is. God grant this to us all, for Christ’s sake! Amen.