His hands securely keep.”

Another reflection is that, although they were in a great storm, the power that made the storm was the very power to which they had to trust. There was not a single blast of the tempest but Jehovah’s might had sent it, nor did a single wave leap up, in apparent wrath, but with God’s permission, or at his command. It was his power, outside the vessel, that was putting them into peril, and they ought to have known that the same power would be exerted to deliver them. It is the same in your case; you are in great trouble, but does trouble spring out of the ground? Does it come by chance? Nay, God’s hand is in it all. I know men talk of the laws of nature, but the laws of nature have no force in themselves; the whole force that carries out a law of nature is a divine force. So, your difficulties are of God’s sending, trials of God’s making, and they are all still in the hand of the all-powerful One to restrain, or mitigate, or increase, or direct according to his own will. You have often heard, I daresay, that pretty little story which I cannot help telling again, because it drops in so appropriately here, of the woman, on board ship, who was much disturbed in a storm, while her husband, the captain, was calm and restful. She asked him why he was so placid when she was so distressed. He did not answer in words, but he took down his sword, and held it to her breast. She smiled. He said, “Why are you not afraid? This is a sharp sword, with which I could slay you in a minute.” “Ah!” she replied, “but I am not afraid of a sword when it is my husband who wields it.” “So,” said he, “neither am I afraid of a storm when it is my Father who sends it, and who manages it.” Now, since all the trials and troubles of this mortal life are as much in the hand of the great God as that sword was in the hand of the good woman’s husband, we need not be afraid of them, for they are all in his power. When he rides aloft in his chariot, and the skies tremble at the sound thereof, why should you tremble, even ye timid ones?

“The God that rules on high,

And thunders when he please,

That rides upon the stormy sky,

And manages the seas.

“This awful God is ours,

Our Father and our love.”

It is only the flash of his spear when you see the vivid lightning, and only the roll of his majestic voice when you hear the thunders peal. Therefore, “why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

There was another thing that ought to have kept those disciples from being afraid, and it was this. Suppose they had sunk,-still, having put to sea at his command, and with him on board,-all would have been well with them. I have heard of a sailor, who was very calm in a storm; and someone asked him, “Why are you not afraid? Can you swim?” “No,” he said, “I cannot swim; but if I were to sink to the bottom of the sea, I should only sink into my Heavenly Father’s hand, for he holds the waters in the hollow of his hand.” That is a sweet thought; and if the worst comes to the worst with you, my brother,-if what we call “the worst” should come to you, my sister,-well, you would only die. You would go as low as the grave; but, blessed be God, you would never go any lower; and, in due time, even your body will come up again from that grave, and, re-united with your soul, be “for ever with the Lord,” “wherefore, comfort one another with these words.” But suppose you should die, your soul will then leap away from death into eternal life in a moment. Death would end all your troubles, rid you for ever of all your burdens, and you would be at home, to go no more out for ever, so you may well say, with good old John Ryland,-

“Come, welcome death,

I’ll gladly go with thee.”

There was one other reason why these disciples ought not to have been at all alarmed; and that was, because their Master was asleep. “Oh!” say you, “I do not see what comfort that was to them.” Well, let me tell you what happened to me, one night, when I was on board ship. In my sleep, I started because I thought I heard something slip. Something had slipped; it was the anchor that had been cast overboard. I called out to one who slept near me, “What is the matter?” He said, “There is something the matter, I feel sure.” “Why?” I asked, and he replied, “Because the captain is up.” It was in the middle of the night, but the captain was up, so I was also up very soon, and saw that the captain was up, and that the sailors were quietly getting out a boat. If my friend had told me that the captain was asleep, I might have slept on, for I should have said, “It is all right if he is asleep. I need not trouble myself to know what is the matter;” but when I heard that he was up, I thought it was time for me to be up, too. If you were on board ship, and saw the captain busy heaving the lead, and doing it himself very deliberately and quietly, you would say to yourself, “I do not know what is wrong, but I feel sure that there is something the matter, the captain seems so anxious.” But if, at any time, you were at sea, and you said to another passenger, “Where is the captain?” and the reply was, “Oh, he is in his berth, sound asleep!” you would say, “Oh then, it is all right! “Why did the Lord Jesus Christ go to sleep in a storm? Why, just because he knew that all was right; why should he not go to sleep? The great loving heart of Christ would not have rested if his children had been in any danger. It was because there was no danger, either to him or to them, that he went to sleep. Perhaps you are saying to yourself, “I have not had any wonderful deliverance from this trouble. I have had, in times gone by; but, now, the Lord does not seem to work any great marvel for me.” No, because there is not any need for it. An old version of the eighteenth Psalm says,-

“On cherub and on cherubim

Full royally he rode,

And on the wings of mighty winds

Came flying all abroad.

“And so deliver’d he my soul:

Who is a rock but he?

He liveth,-blessed be my Rock!

My God exalted be!”

When the Lord thus descended from above, you may depend that there was some great danger threatening one of his children; otherwise, he would not have come at such speed as that; and you may rest assured that, if he does not come thus to help you, it is because there really is not any urgent need for his interposition, as you are not in any great danger. Possibly, the Lord sees that it will be best for you to bear your troubles a little longer, for you are getting good out of them. He means to leave you in the furnace for a little while because he can see that your dross is being taken away; but if the good metal in you were being injured in the slightest degree, he would lift you out of the furnace directly. There is no serious harm happening to you, and, therefore, the Lord does not intervene. I hope that you can see now that the sleep of Jesus ought to have given rest to the minds of his disciples; but it did not, and he had to say to them, “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

Thus I have spoken to the Lord’s own people. May the Holy Spirit graciously bless the word to them!

Now I want your attention, for a short time, while I speak to those who cannot say that they are Christ’s disciples.

There is a story told of Dr. John Owen, who was then Mr. John Owen, that he had been for two or three years in great distress of mind. He went to London, hoping to hear a very famous divine; but, on arriving at the meeting-house, he found that the doctor was not preaching. A man, whose name Mr. Owen never knew, preached from the text from which I am now preaching: “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” He was a man of no great ability; but it pleased God, that night, to break John Owen’s fetters by means of the remarks that were made by the stranger-preacher, which were exactly suited to the condition of John Owen’s mind at that time; and so, that mighty master of theology, perhaps the grandest of all English divines with whom God has ever favoured us, was brought into light and liberty through the instrumentality of that stranger-preacher. I wish that the few minutes, I can now spend in addressing you, could be as fruitful as his message was on that occasion. If only one of you is brought into the light, I will bless the name of the Lord; but I long for very many to be thus blessed.

You are seeking Christ, dear friend, and longing to be saved; but, for want of faith, yon are still in trouble of soul. What is your real condition? Perhaps you say, “I labour under a deep sense of sin, I have been exceedingly guilty.” Possibly, some one sin specially troubles you; or, more probably, a number; it may be that you know that you have sinned against light and knowledge, and you are aware of the peculiar provocation of having sinned, as you have done, after enjoying Christian teaching from your youth up. You feel that there is some special aggravation about your transgression, and you say to yourself, “I can scarcely believe that there is pardon for me.” My dear friend, I put it to you, “Why art thou fearful, O thou of little faith?” Did not Jesus Christ come into the world to save sinners? Is there any sin which he is not able to forgive? It is true that there is a sin which is unto death; but you have not committed that sin, or else you would be in a state of death, and would have no desire to be saved; but if you have any spiritual life, so that you long to be saved, you have not committed that unpardonable sin, and all other sin and blasphemy can be forgiven unto men if they repent of it, and trust the Lord Jesus Christ. I am afraid that you do not think enough of the greatness of the Saviour,-that he is God as well as man. Consider the dignity of his person as God over all blessed for ever; yet, nevertheless, stooping to bear human sin! Think of your sin as much as you will, but do also think much more of the Sin-bearer, and his vicarious sufferings. Weep at the remembrance of your guilt; but weep on Calvary, weep with the wounds of Christ before you. But, oh! I pray you, do not do my Lord the great dishonour to say that he cannot forgive you. It is you who will not believe in him; it is, certainly, not with him that the difficulty lies. “He is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them. It is not possible that you are beyond his ability to save. There have been other persons saved, and many of them, who have sinned just as much as you have done; and even if there had not been any such, yet recollect that, if you are a sinner beyond all others, your case presents an opportunity for Christ to exceed everything that he has ever done; and he would delight in that. He delighteth in mercy; so, if you are really what you suppose yourself to be, namely, something altogether extraordinary in the way of guilt, then there remains room for Christ to show in you the extraordinary power of his grace. I pray you to believe that he can do this; trust him to do it, and you shall find that he both can and will.

Possibly, someone says, “My difficulty is not so much concerning the power of God to pardon, as concerning the strong propensities to sin which I find dwelling in me. How can they be conquered? I have resolved, a great many times, to overcome them; but I find my sin to be like Samson,-it is not to be bound with new cords and green withes, for it breaks loose from all its bonds. I cannot think that I can be saved with such an impetuous temper,-or such a proud spirit,”-or whatever form your sin happens to take. Now, beloved friend, it is well that you should see this difficulty; but is not he, who is mighty to save, quite able to grapple with it. Have you forgotten that text, “Behold, I make all things new”? Do you not know that the Spirit of God has been given that he may take away the heart of stone out of your flesh, and give you a heart of flesh? Have you never read the covenant of grace which says, “Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you.” Is anything too hard for the Lord in this matter? I tell thee, if thou art near akin to a devil, he can make thee into something more than an angel; and if thy lusts and corruptions seem to have a strength that seems to thee to be well-nigh omnipotent, yet is the power of the Holy Spirit able to cast out all this evil, and to overcome the devil within thee. A strong man armed may keep the house; but when a stronger than he shall come, then shall he be driven forth, and be made to know who is his Master. Believe thou that Christ is stronger than thy sin, and come and trust thyself to him, O thou of little faith!

“But,” says another, “my trouble is, that I cannot find anything in me that Christ can work upon. I perceive in my sister, who is saved, some traits of character that I think admirable; I perceive some redeeming feature in all converted people, but I do not perceive anything of the kind in myself. I seem to be weak where I ought to be strong, and strong where I ought to be weak. I am all that I ought not to be, and nothing that I should be.” Ah, my friend! I want you to believe-to do my Lord Jesus the honour to believe-what he has a right to claim from you, namely, that he can deal readily enough with your case, for yours is just the typical case that he came to save. You remember God’s ancient law concerning the leper who was to show himself to the priest. It was the priest’s duty to examine him, from head to foot, with careful eye. While he was surveying him, he came upon a place, perhaps the size of the palm of his hand, where the flesh was perfectly healthy. There was no sign of leprosy in it whatever; and the priest said, “This is a fatal spot, you are unclean; you must be put away outside the camp.” Then he examined another leper; and, looking him all over, though he seemed covered with scales of leprosy, yet the priest found that he had a little place, perhaps the size of the top of his finger, which was quite clear of the disease. The man said, “I have always thought there was hope for me, for you see that little spot, there is no leprosy there.” But the priest sorrowfully shook his head, and said, “You are unclean; you must be put outside the camp.” There came another leper, who said to the priest, “It is scarcely necessary for you to examine me; for, from the crown of my head to the sole of my foot, I am covered with this loathsome disease. There is not a speck or spot in me that has not the disease everywhere.” So the priest looked, but he could not see one healthy place, and, therefore, he said, “You are clean; you may go wherever you like.” I suppose it showed that the man’s constitution had been strong enough to throw the disease out. I infer that was the rationale of it, physically; but, anyhow, according to the law of the leper, the man was clean; and, my friend, if, on looking yourself all over, you can perceive no good whatsoever, or anything like good, and if the great High Priest, even the Lord Jesus Christ, can see no good in you, he will pronounce you clean the moment you come unto him, and trust in him. This may seem strange to you, but it is the very essence of the gospel, even as Joseph Hart sings,-

“ ’Tis perfect poverty alone

That sets the soul at large;

While we can call one mite our own,

We have no full discharge.

“But let our debts be what they may,

However great or small,

As soon as we have nought to pay,

Our Lord forgives us all.”

Well, now, you who thus condemn yourself, should see that your very condemnation of yourself gives you hope of salvation. Why, the devil himself, I should think, would hardly dispute with some of you the fact that you are sinners. On the contrary, he has often been to you, and said, “See what a great sinner you are!” For once, he spoke the truth, though he did even that with an evil intention. If he says that to you, say to him, “Yes, Satan, you have proved that I am a sinner, but that is my hope of salvation, for ‘it is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.’ ” He who condemns himself God absolves. He who is shut up in the prison of the law, so that he cannot escape; he who writes his own death-warrant, and signs it, and feels that he deserves to die,-he is the man for whom the Lord Jesus Christ sets open the door of mercy, and says, “Come unto me, for I have absolved thee. Thou art a free man. Be of good comfort. I died to redeem just such souls as thou art.” So again I say, “O thou of little faith, wherefore dost thou doubt?”

Another case I would like to meet is that of one who says, “Oh, but I have such a lack of sensibility! I am afraid I do not feel humble enough. Some sinners weep, but I cannot. Some have upon them an awful horror of great darkness, but I have not; I wish I had.” Dear friend, dost thou think that would help Christ to save thee? Oh, then, thou dost malign my Lord, who wants no help from thee! He can save thee, stony-hearted as thou art. If there be no sensibility, or anything else that is good about thee, he can give thee all this, or save thee just as thou art. Do not think that he needs thine assistance. What canst thou do, poor fool? I cannot help calling thee “fool” if thou dost think that thou canst do anything to help him to save thee. A righteousness like his,-wouldst thou patch thy rags upon it? Blood like his,-wouldst thou bring some bottles full of thy tears to add to the merit of his great sacrifice? I tell thee that the purest tear thou hast ever shed would stain his precious blood. Thou wilt need forgiveness for that tear if thou dreamest that there can be any merit in it to add to the merit of his blood.

“Ah!” says another, “but I have to mourn my feebleness in prayer. I know some, who have found Christ because they seemed to lay hold of him at the mercy-seat; but I cannot. I can hardly touch the hem of his garment.” Well, then, do that; and if thou dost, thou shalt be healed. A little genuine faith ensures the death of all thy sin. Dost thou think that Christ asks great things of thee? Listen, man. Though Christ bids thee look unto him, and live, it is he that first gives life to that eye of thine, or else it never could have looked unto him. There is nothing good in thee; it is all in Christ. From first to last, it is grace, grace, grace; and grace, you know, takes no payments, for it would mar its glory and its freeness if it took from thee anything from a thread to a shoelatchet. Be thou only emptiness, and Christ will be thy fulness.

“But I do not feel,” thou sayest. Well, then, be so empty that thou art even empty of feeling; thy feelings cannot save thee, but Christ will give thee all the feeling that thou needest. Come unto him just as thou art, and trust him for everything. You are like a child who has done something very wrong; and his father says, “My child, I will freely forgive you.” The child says, “I cannot believe it; I have been so wicked; I want to do something.” The father says, “My dear child, I love you so that I have freely forgiven you. I can forgive all, I can forget all, and I have done so.” The child says, “But I know, if anyone had offended against me as I have done against you, I could not forgive and forget.” “No,” the father says, “but, my child, my ways are not thy ways, nor my thoughts thy thoughts.” The child still cannot believe that his father loves him so as to be ready to forgive him; but if he would believe that, and just throw himself on his father’s bosom with the cry, “Father, I have sinned,” oh, what ease of mind he would at once feel! Out with thy confession! Let not sin be smouldering in thy bosom any longer. Tell the Lord how guilty thou art; tell him that thou deservest his utmost wrath; tell him that thou couldst not complain even if he should destroy thee, but tell him that thou dost cling to Christ, and to the promise of pardon made in his Word; say to him,-

“Thou hast promised to forgive

All who in thy Son believe;

Lord, I know thou canst not lie;

Give me Christ, or else I die.”

That is the thing to do. God help you to do it! Believe over the head of your sins, believe over the head of your sensibility; and, I charge you, do not look at anything but Christ. When thou lookest on thy sins, instead of looking at Christ, thou makest an antichrist of thy sins; and when thou dost look on thy faith, and say, “I cannot think that my faith is enough,”-if thou lookest at thy faith instead of looking to Christ, I say, “Away with thy faith.” Away with everything but what Christ has done, and what Christ is, and the boundless love of the great forgiving God, whose bowels yearn over thee, and who cries, “How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee, Israel? how shall I make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together, … for I am God, and not man.” “O thou of little faith, why art thou so fearful?” Trust thy God, and live.

But, lastly, I hear someone else say, “My trouble is concerning the difficulties of a Christian life. How can I, if I begin to be a Christian, hold on to the end?” Dear friend, I will not deny that there are difficulties, and that they are very great,-much greater than you imagine; but your holding on is not the great matter; it is Christ who will hold you on. Your perseverance in grace is no more to be your own act, apart from Christ, than is your first hope in him. You are to look to Christ to be Omega as well to be Alpha,-to be the Z as well as to be the A of the Christian Alphabet; and if you come, and cast yourself upon him, it is not his custom to cast away any who come to him, neither at first nor yet afterwards. “Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.” And he will do the same with you. He will subdue your corruptions, drive out your iniquities, and present you, at the last, “faultless” before his Father’s throne. Oh, I can talk about this; but, after all, it is only the Lord and Giver of grace who can drive away your unbelief! May he do so now, and to his dear name shall be the praise for ever and ever! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

PSALM 125

Verse 1. They that trust in the Lord shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever.

I noticed, in one of the reports of the surrey of Palestine, that it is said that, albeit every building upon Mount Zion has been demolished, and not one stone has been left upon another, yet the scarps of the hill are altogether immovable, and remain the same as ever. Mount Zion itself cannot be removed, but abideth for ever; and the child of God, by faith in Jesus, cannot be moved by fear, nor removed by sin, but abideth for ever. We abide in Christ, and Christ abides in us; and this makes us like Mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever. If any of you are tossed to and fro, or are changeable, so that you do not know your own minds, may the Lord deliver you from such a state as that! It is faith that makes us steadfast.

2. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even for ever.

Here is security as well as stability. The mountains stand like sentinels around the central hill of Zion, so the city is well guarded; and God protects his own people against adversaries of every kind, and he will continue to do so “from henceforth even for ever.”

3. For the rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous;-

God does not completely screen his people from trial. They sometimes feel the rod of the wicked in the form of slander, oppression, opposition, and persecution; but they shall not always feel it: “The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous;”-

3. Lest the righteous put forth their hands unto iniquity.

If too heavily oppressed, they might do wrong in order to escape from oppression; and God will not have that. He will not let his people be tried above what they are able to bear. He knows that the tendency of poverty and suffering might be to provoke them to sin, therefore he will not let the rod of the wicked rest upon them, lest they put forth their hands unto iniquity.

4. Do good, O Lord, unto those that be good, and to them that are upright in their hearts.

God is always good to his own people. This prayer is also a prophecy that it shall be well with those that fear the Lord.

“In time, and to eternal days,

’Tis with the righteous well.”

5. As for such as turn aside unto their crooked ways,

There are still such people, who profess to be all right, yet they are not; for, after apparently going a little way in the straight road, they turn aside unto their crooked ways. Well, what shall happen to them?

5. The Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity:

They chose the same way, so they shall share the same end. What a sad end for those, who once stood side by side with the saints, to be led out to execution side by side with the workers of iniquity!

5. But peace shall be upon Israel.

In the 1st and 2nd verses of the Psalm, they are said to be like Salem; in this last verse, they are said to have Salem, that is, peace: “Peace shall be upon Israel.”