Certain lands belonged to the king, so far, that he always took the first cut of grass for himself, and left any aftermath to those who worked upon the land. Now, our great King has his mowings too. His Church is the field which he has enclosed and blessed. At set seasons, the King takes his mowings. Lately, beyond any other time in my life that I remember, the King has been taking his mowings in and around the church of which he has made me overseer. One has spent many hours at the bedsides of the dying, and in trying to console the bereaved. Our loss, if I may venture to call it a loss, as a church, at the opening of this year was extremely heavy. The King has been taking his mowings among us, and has cut down here one and there another. When churches commence with a great many young members, there would naturally not be so many deaths at first; but, as we all grow old together, there must be a large proportion of removals from this world into the land above. I purpose to speak a little upon that subject, and I shall do so in a threefold way,-first, by way of consolation; then, by way of admonition; and, then, by way of anticipation.

First, by way of consolation. It is a sorrowful matter that our beloved brethren and sisters should be taken from us. We were not more but less than men if we did not sorrow. Jesus wept, and by that act he sanctified our tears. It is not wrong, it is not unmanly, much less is it sinful, for us to drop the tear of sorrow over the departed; yet let us help to wipe those tears away with a handkerchief of sacred consolations.

First, seeing that “all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass,” dost thou lament that the King has been mowing? Then let this thought chide thee. The King himself has done it! There is no such abstract thing as death, an unloosed monster devouring the saints at will, “drinking the blood of men, and grinding their bones between his iron teeth.” This is a poet’s raving. No destroying angel is sent forth to slay the Israel of God. There is a destroying angel, it is true; but he comes not near those who bear the blood-mark. It is not in the power of disease, or accident, to kill the children of God except as instruments in the divine hand. No saint dieth otherwise than by the act of God. It is ever according to the King’s own will; it is the King’s own doing. Every ripe ear in his field is gathered by his own hand, cut down by his own golden sickle, and by none other. Every full-blown flower of grace is taken away by him, not smitten with blight, or out down by the tempest, or devoured by some evil beast.

When mortal man resigns his breath,

’Tis God directs the stroke of death;

Casual howe’er the stroke appear,

He sends the fatal messenger.

The keys are in that hand divine;

That hand must first the warrant sign,

And arm the death, and wing the dart

Which doth his message to our heart.”

The Lord has done it in every case; and knowing this, we must not even think of complaining. What the King doeth his servants delight in; for he is such a King, that, let him do what seemeth him good, and we will still bless him; we are of the mind of him who said, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.”

Again, those who have been mown down and taken away are with the King. They are the King’s mowings; they are gathered into his stores. They are not in purgatory; they are not in the limbus patrum, much less are they in hell. They are not wandering in dreary pathways amidst the stars to find a lodging-place. Jesus prayed, “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me: for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world;” and this prayer has fixed the saints’ abode. We shall enter into no questions now about whether heaven is a place, and where it is, or whether it be merely a state; it is enough for us that where Jesus is there his people are,-not some of them on lower seats, or in lower rooms, or sitting outside, but they are all where he is. That will certainly content me; and if there be any degrees in glory, you who want the high ones may have them. The lowest degree that I can perceive in Scripture is, “that they may be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory;” and that lowest degree is as high as my most vivid imagination can carry me. Here is enough to fill our souls even to the brim. And now do you sorrow for those who are with Christ where he is? Do you not almost blame your tears when you learn that your beloved ones are promoted to such blissful scenes? Why, mother, did you ever wish for your child a higher place than that it should be where Jesus is? Husband, by the love you bore your wife, you cannot grudge her the glory into which she has entered. Wife, by the deep devotion of your heart to him who has been taken from you, you could not wish to have detained him a moment from the joy in which his soul now triumphs with his Lord. If he were gone to some unknown land, if you could stand on life’s brink, and hear the roaring billows of a dread mysterious ocean, and say, “My dear one has gone, I know not whither, to be tossed like a waif or stray upon yonder tempestuous sea,” oh, then you might mix your own tears with the brine of that ocean. But you know where they are, you know with whom they are, and you can form some idea, by the joy of Christ’s presence here on earth, what must be their bliss above.

“Sounds of sweet melody fall on my ear;

Harps of the blessed, your music I hear!

Rings with the harmony heaven’s high dome,

Joyfully, joyfully bring the saints home.”

It is a sweet reflection, too, that although our dear friends have been cut down like flowers by the scythe, yet their lot is better than ours, though we are standing and blooming to-day. Life seems better than death, and the living dog is better than the dead lion; but take into account the everlasting state, and who will dare to say that the state of the blessed is worse than ours? Will not all assert that it is infinitely superior? We are suffering still, but they shall smart no more. We are weak and tottering here, but they have regained the dew of their youth. We know what want means, and wipe the sweat of toil from off our face, but they rest in abundance for ever. The worst of all is, that we still sin, and have to wrestle hard with doubts and fears; Satan still besets us, the world is around us, and corruptions fester within us. But they are where not a wave of trouble can ever break the serenity of their spirit, beyond the barkings of the hell-dogs, and beyond the arrows of hell’s quiver, though there be archers who would shoot their darts into heaven itself if they could. The ingathered ones are supremely blest; they are far beyond what we are in joy, and knowledge, and holiness; therefore, if we love them, how can we mourn that they have gone from the worse to the better, and from the lower to the higher room?

And, moreover, brethren, although some of you sorrow very bitterly, because God has taken away the desire of your eyes with a stroke, let me remind you that you might have had a worse sorrow than this concerning them. Ah, the mother who hath to mourn over a grown-up son who has become a profligate, has a bitterer pang a thousand times over than she has who sees her infant carried to the grave. The father, who knows that his sons or daughters have become a dishonour to his name, may well wish that he had long ago seen them laid in the silent tomb; and I have known men, in the church, whom I would sooner have buried a thousand times over than have lived to see what I have afterwards seen in them. For years, they stood as honourable professors; but they lived to dishonour the church, to blaspheme their Lord, to go back into perdition, and prove that the root of the matter was never in them. Oh, ye need not weep for those in heaven; weep not for the dead, neither bewail them; but weep for the spiritually dead; weep for the apostate and backslider; weep for the false professor and the hypocrite, “the wandering stars,” “to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.” If ye have tears, go and shed them there; but for those who have fought the fight, and won the victory, for those who have stemmed the stream, and safely landed on the other side, let us have no tears; nay, put away the sackbut, and bring forth the clarion, let the trumpet ring out jubilantly the note of victory. It is to them the day of jubilee; why should it be to us the hour of sorrow? They put on the crown, and bear the palm branch in their hands; wherefore should we don the funeral weeds? There is infinitely more to rejoice in than there is to sorrow for; therefore, let our hearts be glad. The Lord hath said to them, “Well done,” and rewarded them according to his grace, and this is infinitely better than that they should have lived to slip and slide.

“But this is poor comfort,” you will say, and therefore let me come back to the text, and say that the King has taken his mowings. Sorrowful as we may be, it is not the worst sorrow that we must have; but, whether or no, we must not grudge the King any whom he takes from us. All the friends we have are lent us. The old proverb says, “A loan should go laughing home;” that is, we should never be unwilling to return a loan, but cheerfully give it back to the lender. Our dear ones were lent to us, and what a blessing they have been to us! The lamps of our house, have they been the joy of our day? The Master says, “I want them back again;” and do we clutch at them, and say, “No, Master, thou shalt not have them”? Oh, it must not be so. Our dear ones were never half as much ours as they were Christ’s. We did not make them, but he did; we never bought them with our blood, but he did; we never sweat a bloody sweat for them, nor had our hands and feet pierced for them, but he did. They were lent us, but they belonged to him. Your prayer was, “Father, let them be with me where I am,” but Christ’s prayer was, “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.” Your prayer pulled one way, and Christ’s pulled another. Be not envious that Christ won the suit. If I ever enter into the Lord’s Court of Chancery, if I find that Christ is on the other side, my Lord, I will not plead. Thou shalt have thy will, for I and thou and thou and I are one; and if it be thy plea that all I love may be with thee, so be it, for I shall be with thee too, ere long, and I would not quarrel with thy wish. The King has let out this church like a pasture to us, and he says, “I must take my mowings sometimes.” Well, he has so watered us, and given us the smell of a field that the Lord God hath blessed, that, when he comes and takes his rent, we may not stand at the gate and forbid him, but say, “Good Master, come and take which thou wilt. Take thy quit-rent, for the field is all thine own. Thou hast dearly purchased it, and thou hast tilled it with much diligence; take what thou wilt, for it is thine.”

And, let me add, to increase our comfort, that the King took his mowings at the right time. Out of those whom he has taken away from us, I think we must all confess that the Lord took them when they should be taken. In one case, a venerable sister, who, if she had lasted longer, would have been the prey of weakness and of pain; ’twas well she fell asleep. In another case, a dear young friend was pining under that fell disease, consumption; her throat was scarcely able to receive nourishment; I think those who loved her best must have felt relieved when at last she fell asleep. Two brethren rise before my mind’s eye; the one struggled through life, and wondered often that he did not sink before, for he was like a ship unfit for sea, which every wave threatens to engulf; it is a wonder that he survived so long as he did. He served his Lord up to the last; and when all was over, it was well. Another, whom I saw with an afflicting, disease about him that had brought him very low, had led so gracious a life that he did not need to utter any dying testimony. Brethren beloved, also, who were once with us in the College have fallen asleep, having finished their course and kept the faith.

I may add that, not only did the King take his mowings at the right time, but, in every case I have now before my mind, he took them in the easiest way. He took them gently. Some have a hard fight for it at the last; but, in these cases, though there were pains and dying strife, yet at the last their souls were kissed away by the dear lips of him who named them by their names, and said they were his. They fell asleep, some of them so sweetly that those who looked on scarcely knew whether it was the sleep of life or the deeper sleep of eternity. They were gone; they were gone at once to their Lord and their God. Putting all these things together, reflecting that the King has done it, that those he has taken away he has taken to be with himself, that their present lot is an infinitely better one than anything beneath the moon; considering, too, that we must never grudge the King the heritage which he has so dearly bought, and that he took his mowings at the right time, and took them in the happiest manner, we will no longer repine, but we will bless the Lord.

And now, brethren, suffer me for a few minutes to use the subject by way of admonition.

I hardly know whether, under this head, I have grouped together thoughts that are quite admonitory. The first one is to me very joyous. It is this, that as we belong to the King, our hope is that we shall be mown too. We are sitting on the banks of Jordan, especially some of us who are of riper years, waiting for a summons to the court of the Eternal King. It grows a wonder sometimes, with aged Christians, why they stay here so long. John Newton, methinks, used to marvel at his own age; and Rowland Hill used to say that he half imagined they had forgotten him, and hoped they would soon recollect him, and send for him. Well, we have not quite got that length,-we who are young,-but still we entertain the hope that, some fair evening, calm and bright, the angel-reaper will come with the scythe. Then shall we, having fulfilled, like the hireling, our day, lay down our tools of labour, and take our rest. Then shall we put down our sword, and take off our breastplate, and unloose the shoes of iron and brass, for we shall fight no more, but take the palm, and claim the victory before the throne. Never let us look forward to this with dread. It is wondrous that we should do so, and we could not if our faith were stronger. When faith vividly realizes the rest that remaineth for the people of God, we are tempted to long to be up and away. Then why should we wish to linger here? What is there in this old musty worn-out world, worm-eaten and full of holes, with its very gold and silver cankered, that can satisfy an immortal spirit? Let us away to the hills of spices and to the mountains of frankincense, where the King in his beauty stands with “helmed cherubim and sworded seraphim” and all the hosts that serve him day and night, to behold his face, and evermore adore him. Let us anticipate cheerfully the time when the King’s mowings shall include us also.

Brethren, the admonition that arises out of all this, is, let us be ready. Should not every Christian man live every day as if he were going to die that day? Should we not always live as if we knew our last hour to be at the door? If a man, in his right state, were informed on a sudden, “You will die to-night,” he ought not to have to alter his mode of life one atom; he should be so living that he had nothing more to do but to continue his course. It is remarked of Bengel, the great critic, that “he did not wish to die in spiritual parade, but in the ordinary way; like a person called out to the street door from the midst of business: so much so that he was occupied with the correction of his proof-sheets at his dying season, as at other times.” To me, it seems to be the very highest kind of death; to die in harness, concluding life without suspending service. Alas, many are unready, and would be sadly put about if the midnight cry were suddenly heard. Oh, let us see that everything is in order! Both for this world and the next nothing should be left to be hurried over in the last few hours. Christian man, is your will made? Are your business affairs all straight? They ought to be, everything ought to be as nearly as you can keep it in perfect order, so that you are ready to go at any minute. Mr. George Whitefield used so to live in anticipation of death that he said, “I never go to sleep at night with even a pair of gloves out of place.” Oh, that we could be habitually ready and in order, especially in higher matters, walking before the Lord, as preparing to meet him!

Then, dear friends, this departure of many of our fellow-workers, while it admonishes us to be going, at the same time teaches us to do twice as much while we are here, seeing that our numbers are being so constantly thinned. A brave soldier, in the day of battle, if he hears that a regiment has been exterminated by the enemy’s shot and shell, says, “Then those of us that survive must fight all the more bravely. There is no room for us to play at fighting. If they have slain so many, we must be more desperately valiant.” And so, to-day, if one here or there is gone, a useful worker from the Sabbath-schools, or from the street-preaching, then it is time our broken ranks were repaired. O you young men, I pray you, fill up the gap; and you young women who love the Saviour, if a Sabbath-school teacher is gone, and you are teaching, teach better, or if you are not teaching, come and fill the place. My dear brethren, I pray for recruits; I stand like a commander in the midst of my little army, and see some of the best smitten down, here one and there one, and what can I do but, as my Master bids me, lead you on, and say, “Brethren and sisters, step into their places; fill the gaps in the ranks.” Do not let death gain upon us; but even as one goes into the golden city, let another cry, “Here am I; call me also to my reward.” As for us who are at work, we must labour more zealously than ever, we must pray more fervently than ever. When a certain great man suddenly died in the ministry, I remember, in my young days, an old preacher saying, “I must preach better than ever I did now that Mr. So-and-so is gone.” And you, Christian, whenever a saint is removed, say, “I must live the better to make up to the Church the loss which it has sustained.”

One other thought, by way of admonition. If the King has been taking his mowings, then the King’s eye is upon his Church. He has not forgotten this field, for he has been mowing it. We have been praying lately that he would visit us. He has come, he has come! Not quite as we expected him, but he has come, he has come! Oh yes, and as he has walked these aisles, and looked on this congregation, he has taken first one and then another. He has not taken me, for I was not ready; and he has not taken you, for you are not quite ripe; but he has taken away some that were ripe and ready, and they have gone in to be with him, where he is. Well, then, he has not forgotten us, and this ought to stimulate us in prayer. He will hear us, his eye is upon us; this ought to stimulate us to self-examination. Let us purge out everything that will grieve him. He is evidently watching us. Let us seek to live as in his presence, that nothing may vex his Spirit, and cause him to withdraw from us.

Beloved, these are the words of admonition.

And, now, a few more words by way of anticipation. I hardly know under what head to place them. What anticipations are there that come out of the mowing?

Why, these. There is to be an after-growth. After the King’s mowings, there came another upspringing of fresh grass, which belonged to the King’s tenants. So we expect, now that the King has been mowing, that we shall have a fresh crop of grass. Is there not a promise, “They shall spring up as among the grass, as willows by the water courses”? Fresh converts will come, and who will they be? Well, I look around, and I will not say, with Samuel, as I look at some young man in the gallery, “Surely the Lord hath chosen him;” neither will I look down to someone in the area, and say, “Surely the Lord hath chosen him;” but I will bless God that I know he has chosen some, and that he means to make this fresh grass spring up to fill up the waste caused by the King’s mowings.

Do you know who I should like to come if I might have my preference? Well, where the daughter has died, how glad I should be if the father came, or the brother came; and where the father has died, how would I be rejoiced if the son should come; and where a good woman has been taken away, how glad would I be if her husband filled up the place! It seems to me as if it were natural to wish that those who loved them best should occupy their position, and discharge their work for them. But if that cannot be, I stand here to-night as a recruiting sergeant. My King in his wars has lost some of his men, and the regiment wants making up. Who will come? I put the colours in my hat to-night, but I will not stand here, and tempt you with lies about the ease of the service, for it is hard service; yet I assure you that we have a blessed Leader, a glorious conflict, and a grand reward. Who will come? Who will come to fill up the gaps in the ranks? Who will be baptized for the dead, to stand in their place of Christian service, and take up the torch which they have dropped? I will pass the question round, and I hope that many a heart will say, “Oh, that the Lord would have me! Oh, that he would blot out my sins, and receive me!” He delighteth in contrite hearts; he saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. He will have whom he will have, but the way to be enlisted is plain. “Oh!” say you, “what must I give to be Christ’s soldier?” To be the queen’s soldier, you do not give anything; you receive a shilling. You take, in order to be a soldier of the queen, and so, to be Christ’s soldier, you must take Christ to be your All-in-all, holding out your empty hand, and receiving of his blood and righteousness to be your hope and your salvation. Oh, that his good Spirit would sweetly incline your wills, that one after another might be made willing in the day of his power! May he thus do, and our hearts will greatly rejoice.

As I read the passage in Amos, from which I have taken my text, I noticed something about caterpillars. (The marginal reading calls them “green worms.”) It is said that, after the King’s mowings, there came the caterpillars to eat up the after-growth. Oh, those caterpillars! When the poor Eastern husbandman sees the caterpillars, his heart is ready to break, for he knows that they will eat up every green thing. And I can see the caterpillars here to-night. There is the great green caterpillar that eats up all before him; I wish I could crush him. He is called the caterpillar of procrastination. There are many, many other worms and locusts which eat up much, but this worm of procrastination is the worst, for just as the green blade is beginning to spring up, this caterpillar begins to eat. I can hear him gnawing, “Wait, wait, wait; to-morrow, to-morrow; a little more sleep, a little more sleep, a little more sleep.” And so this caterpillar devours our hopes. Lord, destroy the caterpillar, and grant that, instead of the fathers, may be the children; instead of the King’s mowings, may there come up the after-growth which shall be a rich reward to the husbandman, and bring glory to the Owner of the soil!

We have reason to pray that the Lord would send the dew and the rain to bring forth the after-growth. “He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass.” Now this congregation is like mown grass. God has mown it,-a rich mowing has the King taken from us. Now, my brethren, we have the promise; let us plead it before the throne. All the preaching in the world cannot save a soul, nor all the efforts of men; but God’s Spirit can do everything; oh that he would come down like rain upon the mown grass now! Then shall we see the handful of corn in the earth upon the top of the mountains multiply till its fruit shall shake like Lebanon, and they of the city shall flourish like grass of the earth. The Lord send it, the Lord send it now!

If any would be saved, here is the way of salvation: “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” To believe is to trust. What you have to trust in is this,-that Jesus is God, that he became man, that he suffered in the sinner’s place, and that whosoever believes in him shall be forgiven because God has punished Christ instead of believers. Christ bore God’s wrath instead of every sinner that ever did or ever shall believe in him; and if thou believest in him, thou wast redeemed from among men. His substitution was for thee, and it will save thee; but if thou believest not, thou hast no part or lot in this matter. Oh, that thou wert brought to put thy trust in Jesus! This would be the pledge of thy sure salvation to-night and for evermore. God bless you, for Christ’s sake! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

REVELATION 21

Verse 1. And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.

Astronomers tell us that, within living memory, several starry worlds have burnt out, and vanished out of sight. The apostle Peter has told us that this world also will be destroyed by fire, but it will afterwards be renewed, and a new sky and a new earth will appear after the first firmament and the first earth shall have become extinct. God means that this planet should continue to exist after it has had a new creation, and renewed its youth. The regeneration of his people, their new birth, is a foretaste of what is yet to happen to this whole world of ours. We have the first-fruits of the Spirit, and we groan within ourselves while we wait for the fulness of that new creation.

“The first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea,” because the sea is the emblem of separation, and destruction, and unrest. The sea hath her dead which shall be given up. The sea now cannot rest nor be quiet, but all shall be calm and tranquil in the new heaven and the new earth.

2. And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

John saw, in vision, the glorified Church of God coming to dwell on the new earth, descending for a while from heaven to be the very glory of the newly-created world.

3, 4. And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

When there shall be a new heaven and a new earth, and the Church shall be in her new and glorified condition, then there will be no need for all those purifying forces which have been so active here below. There shall be no death, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor pain, nor trial of any kind; all shall be happiness for all shall be holiness. And then, as God dwelt of old among his people in the wilderness, and as Jesus Christ, the Word, was made flesh, and tabernacled among us, and we beheld his glory, so in that new world shall God reveal himself to his people by a special indwelling and a peculiar nearness.

5. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new,* And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.

Once, the Lord might have said, “Behold, I make all things;” but now he says, “Behold, I make all things new.” Glory be unto the great Creator! Did not the morning stars sing together for joy when he made the world? But equal if not greater glory must be ascribed to the great Regenerator, the New Creator; shall we not all sing together to his praise? Yes, that we shall if we are numbered among the “all things” that he makes new.

6. And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.†

Probably John did not expect to hear that sweet gospel message just then. The Lord Jesus Christ was speaking of lofty themes, of worlds newly made, and yet in the very middle of it all he puts this gracious promise. Let this be a pattern to all of you who are preachers or teachers; no matter what your subject may be, a gospel promise or invitation is always in place and in season. You may put it among the most golden sentences like a precious stone in a setting of pure gold, and it will never be out of order come when it may. Men hate God without the slightest reason for doing so, and God loves men without the slightest reason; there was every reason why men should love God, and not hate him; yet they have hated him without a cause; and there is every reason why God should hate man, and not love him, yet he loves him so much that he gave his only-begotten Son to die, that whosoever believeth in him may live for ever.

7. He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.

What a wonderful word is that! “He shall be my son,”-not my servant, but “my son.” God give us the faith to rise to this more than royal dignity! “As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God.”

8. But the fearful,-

No, that is not the right word; it is the cowardly, for there are many who are full of fear who are nevertheless most sincere and right in God’s sight: “But the cowardly,”-

8. And unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers,-

And the apostle John tells us that “whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer,-

8. And whoremongers,-

Unchaste and unclean men and women,-

8. And sorcerers,-

Persons who profess to have communications with the dead, necromancers, spiritualists, and all people of that sort,-

8. And idolaters,-

That is, all who love anyone or anything better than God,-

8. And all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.

That is the death that never dies, the death which is far more to be dreaded than the death of the body.

9. And there came unto me one of the seven angels which had the seven vials full of the seven last plagues, and talked with me, saying, Come hither, I will shew thee the bride, the Lamb’s wife.

John had already caught a glimpse of “the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven;” and now this angelic messenger bids him come nearer, and look more closely into this mysterious and glorious city “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”

10-13. And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal; and had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel: on the east three gates; on the north three gates; on the south three gates; and on the west three gates.

God’s Church glorified lieth open to all quarters of the infinitude of space; it is no prison-house of souls that dare not go beyond its borders, but a many-gated city, so that the blessed spirits there can fly whithersoever they will.

14. And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.

Not Peter only, but the whole of the twelve apostles shall have their names in the foundations of that holy city.

15, 16. And he that talked with me had a golden reed to measure the city, and the gates thereof, and the wall thereof. And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal.

It seems at first to be astounding that the height of a city should be equal to the length and the breadth of it; but if you have travelled in Italy, you must have seen many a city, perched upon a hill, which seemed to be even higher than it was broad or long, if you included the wall of the city, and the houses one above another right up to the loftiest minaret or tower. Yes, like a priceless square casket made all of costly jewels is this wondrous city, equally glorious whichever way you look at it: “The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal.”

17, 18. And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel. And the building of the wall of it was of jasper; and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass.

Such gold as never was, nor is, nor ever shall be on this earth until that time when God shall have purified it. Our gold is dull, opaque; light is blocked out by it. How many might see if it were not for the gold which blinds them, and hides the truth from them!

19, 20. And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolyte; the eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysoprasus; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst.

You know that the stones of which this holy city is built are living stones. You and I, if we are trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ, shall be there, living stones prepared by divine grace to have a name and a place in this living city. But what changes will have to be wrought in us before we are fit to be put among these precious jewels! We are like poor blocks of common-looking stone, but we do not know what we shall be like when we have been cut and polished on the great Lapidary’s wheel. You may take a precious stone to a jeweller, and ask him what its value is, but he will say, “I cannot tell what it is worth until it has been cut and polished.” That is how the Lord will prove the value of his living stones. If he will but work upon us by his grace, we cannot tell what he will make of us before he places us in the position he has appointed for us in the glorious city that rests upon these twelve precious foundations.

21. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass.

John had already said that “the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass;” and now he says that “the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass.” We do not always get such a combination as this here below, gold, precious and pure, yet unstained with blood, and undimmed with the oppression of the poor,-diaphanous gold, “as it were transparent glass.”

22, 23. And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.*

Yes, and the glorified Church herself, because of this light, sheds such a bright light on all within her that all the saints rejoice in her light.

24, 25. And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no night there.

Shut gates signify war; open gates mean peace. There shall be no more fear of war, no Gog and Magog to gather together to battle, no Armageddon to be dreaded by the glorified Church of Christ, which shall be in perfect peace for ever.

26, 27. And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie; but they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life.†

“IN REMEMBRANCE”

A Sermon

Published on Thursday, February 4th, 1909,

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington,

On Lord’s-day Evening, January 5th, 1873.

“This do in remembrance of me.… This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.”-1 Corinthians 11:24, 25.*

It is a wonderful proof of the deep depravity of human nature that men have made so much mischief out of the too symbolical ordinances which were instituted by the Lord Jesus Christ. You know how the ordinance of believers’ baptism has been perverted, twisted, and turned aside altogether from its pristine use; and the ordinance of the Lord’s supper has been quite as shamefully misrepresented. In neither case is there any excuse whatever for this perversion, for in each instance the regulations for its observance are perfectly simple and clear. In the institution of the Lord’s supper there was not a solitary word said about the new rite being a sacrifice nor so much as a single syllable concerning an altar upon which it was to be offered. It was not instituted in the temple at Jerusalem, but in the upper room of a private house. It was not ordained at a great temple festival, but at the Passover supper, when Christ and his disciples were gathered around a table to feast together according to the ancient Jewish custom. There was nothing said by our Lord about any repetition of his one great sacrifice by the offering of the unbloody sacrifice of the mass of which the priests of Rome make so much. It is as simple and plain as it can possibly be: “This do in remembrance of me.” Those who stumble here, stumble, surely, in the light, and their eyes must be blinded; for there are no stumblingblocks in the ordinance itself.

Observe that Christ does not prescribe anything in the Lord’s supper by way of elaborate ceremonial. There is nothing at all resembling the various intricate rules that are laid down for the celebration of the mass in the Church of Rome, or even for the celebration of the communion in the Church of England. Nothing is here ordered to be done except the breaking of bread, and the eating of it, and the pouring out of wine, and the drinking of it; and these two things are to be done in remembrance of Christ. He has not even laid down any rule with regard to the posture that is to be assumed by communicants. I have no doubt whatever that the disciples were reclining around the supper-table in the usual Oriental manner, but Christ does not say that we are to recline, or kneel, or stand, or sit for the right observance of the ordinance. Nothing appears to be really essential to the right celebration of this supper by believers in the Lord Jesus Christ but just this: “Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner also he took the cup when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.” How very little there is here of anything like a grand ceremony!

And yet, mark you, there is a certain rubric, with regard to the spiritual part of the Lord’s supper, which is not left to anybody’s choice. It is essential, it is the very soul and marrow of the ordinance that we should remember Christ in it: “This do in remembrance of me.” The external order may vary in certain respects, but the internal essence must be there, else you will have the mere dead carcase, and you will have lost the soul, the spirit, the very life of the whole ordinance. Again and again our Saviour says, “This do in remembrance of me … This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.” To remember Christ, then, is the main point in the right observance of this ordinance;-to let the memory look him in the face again, to put the finger once more into the print of the nails, and to thrust the hand again into his side; once again to adore the Saviour whose head for us was crowned with thorns, but is now coroneted with glory;-to remember him, to recall him, that is our main business as we gather around his table. May God graciously grant to us the grace to attain to that which is the very essence, and soul, and life of the Lord’s supper, that is, the remembrance of Christ!

And, first, let me remark, dear brethren and sisters in Christ, that, as we gather around the Lord’s table, other memories will come, but they must not be allowed to crowd out the one memory: “This do in remembrance of me.”

Other memories will come,-I am sure they will come to me, and I believe that they will come also to my Christian brethren and sisters here. You will remember well the time when you did not know Jesus. With deep regret, our memory will go back to the period when the little that we did know of Christ was misused; when we despised and rejected him; when we had ill words for his people, and hard words for everything that concerned him. It is a profitable exercise for us to look unto the rock whence we were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence we were digged. That is not an ill memory with which to come to our Lord’s table, with our eyes full of the tears of repentance for our past sin, yet rejoicing that we are now washed and cleansed, although once we were defiled, and altogether unfit to occupy the children’s place.

Will you not remember, too, the times when God’s Spirit first began to work upon you, and you hovered around the cross, and, in consequence, began also to hover around the communion table? Do you remember when you sat up in the gallery, and looked down on the people of God who were gathered to remember their Lord in the observance of this ordinance? Your mother was there, and perhaps your brothers and sisters were there, and mayhap a wife was there, or a husband was there, and you felt the separation from them very sorely, and the more because you feared that it might be the prelude to an eternal separation, when those who have been joined together by ties of blood must be separated from one another as far as heaven is from hell because they have never really been one in Christ Jesus. You remember the prayers that you used to put up, that you also might know Jesus as your Saviour, and might then be able to make a profession of your faith, and come to his table with your loved ones to remember him. I recollect well those times in my own experience; and as I recall them, I bless the Lord that he answered my prayers, and set me also among his children.

Do you not also recollect the time when you first came to his table? With some of you, it was in the first flush of your youth. You had heard of Jesus, and believed on him, and straightway you said, “I will be his disciple, and I will take up his cross, and follow him.” You joined his Church; and then, when the hour came that you should, for the first time, enjoy the privilege of fellowship with him at his table, you reckoned on it with eager anticipation, and you came to your first communion service with much prayer and holy longing that you might meet your Lord there. It was a very precious season to you. Since then, you may have had better times than that, but probably none that you remember better, and none in which there was a greater freshness about your heart’s affection for your Lord. The bloom was on the peach then; the dew of the morning was still on the field that the Lord had blessed. Possibly, some of that dew and that bloom has been brushed away by contact with the world, but it was very fresh and beautiful then. It cannot be unprofitable for you to remember the love of your espousals; and if that remembrance should lead you to do your first works with your first love, that memory will not be out of place even at your Lord’s table.

And, brethren and sisters in Christ, as we are coming again to the communion table at the close of this service, there are hallowed memories that come to me, just now, of some who used to sit with us at this table, some officers of the church who sat on this platform, and many members of the church who sat down there, and there, and there,-good men and true, and holy women, and young saints who rejoiced in Christ, workers of different sorts, and sufferers of different kinds, persons of differing rank and degree, but “all one in Christ Jesus;” and now they are enjoying the higher fellowship in the kingdom of their Father above. They were ready “to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better,” and that is now their blessed portion. I am sure that such memories as these must come to many of you, for some of you are occupying the very seats upon which they used to sit, or else next to you there sits one who did not sit there this time last year. Well, I do not think these are unprofitable memories, because they link us to those who have gone in to see the King, and help us to remember the mighty hosts of the redeemed who have triumphed through his grace, and are now with him in his glory. They also help us to realize the unity of the one Church of Jesus Christ, of which we sometimes sing,-

“One family we dwell in him,

One church above, beneath,

Though now divided by the stream,

The narrow stream of death.”

There also come to some of us the memories of dear ones who are not here, though their hearts are here, for sickness has detained them from the communion table these many days. Some of us who have experienced the bitterness of that deprivation, feel intense sympathy with other sufferers who are kept away from the sacred feast; and we pray the Master to send home to each of them a blessing that shall fill their souls with rejoicing, and their mouths with thanksgiving. As David ordained that those who tarried by the stuff should share equally with those who went down to the battle, so may those who are shut out from the public ministry, and the observance of the ordinance with us here, have a special portion direct from the Master’s own hand and heart.

And as we sit here, some of us think with great pleasure of those who are sitting with us. I regret that we are so often tempted to remember the faults of our fellow-Christians. Oh, may they be blotted from my memory for ever! Let us treasure the virtues and excellences of our fellow-members, and search for signs of the Spirit’s work in them; and, remembering our own imperfections and failures, let us not fix our eyes upon their defects. But there are many sitting with us here who are monuments of God’s grace; and as we look at them, we recollect what God has done for their souls. Some dear brethren and sisters here have been made very useful to others during the past year; and if they turn their eyes a little, they can see many of their spiritual children sitting around them. I know that it is a joyous memory to them that the past year was a fruitful one in their portion of the Lord’s vineyard; and I also bless God as I look many of you in the face, for I know that there is a love between us which many waters cannot quench, because in this place God first spoke to your souls by the ministry of his Word. These memories are profitable ones, and we do well to remember those who form a part of the one mystical body of Christ. Is it not a part of our communion that the members of Christ’s body should commune with their fellow-members as well as with their glorious Head?

One dark memory, however, crosses my mind, as I have no doubt it often crossed the minds of those who sat with Christ that night when he said, “This do in remembrance of me,” and that was the remembrance of Judas. It was that sentence, “One of you shall betray me,” that made the night so sorrowful to those who were in that upper room, and Judas has had many successors in the Church. There have been those even high in official standing who, nevertheless, have bartered their Lord and Master for paltry silver. Alas! alas! alas! while we remember those who have done so, it will not be with the self-righteousness that makes us think we should never have done it, but with the sacred caution which enquires, “Lord, shall I also do this thing?” and with the holy prayerfulness that cries, “Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe.”

Now I think all these memories are natural, allowable, and profitable, but they must be kept in a secondary place, and they must never crowd out the remembrance of Christ. He did not say to his disciples, “This do ye in remembrance of one another,” or “in remembrance of your own conversion,” or “in remembrance of your former state of sin,” but he said, “This do in remembrance of me.” So I claim the first place for remembrance of the Master, and I say to these other memories, “Stand back! Stand back, and let him fill the central position, let him occupy the throne. If ye will, ye may sit upon the steps of his grand throne; but upon that throne ye must not sit; that is for him who says to his disciples, ‘This do in remembrance of me.’ ”

Note, next, that this ordinance is very helpful to that one sacred memory,-the memory of Christ.

The emblems upon the table,-covered up from your sight at present, but to be visible soon,-the bread and wine remind us that Jesus Christ was truly man. When he came upon this earth, he was no phantom. Even after his resurrection, when his disciples supposed that they had seen a spirit, he said to them, “Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have.” He took a piece of a broiled fish, and of a honeycomb, and did eat it before them. The apostle John says that they had seen him with their eyes, and had handled him with their hands. He was really God manifest in the flesh; and we are thankful that, in this ordinance, there are two material emblems set before us to remind us that, although our holy religion is most deeply spiritual, yet it also touches the material, for Christ was verily bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, man of the substance of his mother, and as such he lived, and as such he really died.

These signs being laid upon a table are meant to show us, next, the familiarity of our blessed Lord with us. The bread is not elevated so as to be exhibited to you while you bow down before it as if it were your God, nor is the wine in the cup lifted up as an object of adoration and worship; but both these emblems are placed upon the table, the bread to be eaten, and the wine to be drunk. This is to remind us that the Word of God, incarnate, Christ Jesus our Lord and Saviour, was familiar with the sons of men. “He came unto his own;” he was a man among men; he was with them at their feasts, and he wept with them at their funerals, he suffered hunger, and thirst, and weariness, and pain as we do; he spoke familiarly yet faithfully with the poor sinful woman at Sychar’s well, and he spoke in a similar style to the great multitude. He was no recluse, he was no Oriental potentate, guarded from the throng, but he was ever among the people, healing their sicknesses, and sympathizing with them in their sorrows.

This is a great blessing to us, because, while Jesus thus comes near to us, we are thereby invited to draw near to him. The bread is placed upon the table, but the table is not lifted up beyond our reach; and we are bidden to gather round it, and to eat the bread that is upon it, and so to have the most familiar acquaintance with that which is upon the table. So, to-day, Jesus invites the sinful and the sorrowful to come to him. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” And as for his own people, he is so familiar with them that, if there were anything he had not told them, which was really for their good, he would tell them now. He said to his disciples, concerning the many mansions in his Father’s house, “If it were not so, I would have told you;” and he also said to them, “Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you.” Jesus Christ is not like Moses, whose glory repelled, but his glory attracts. He is the good Shepherd who delights to fold the lambs in his bosom. He is the Man among men who loves men, and loves to have men about him, for his delights still are, as they ever have been, with the sons of men.

This truth ought to help us to remember our Lord,-that he is truly man, a man among us, near to us, to whom we are very dear, and who should be, and I trust is, very dear to us. He is our Brother; ay, he is nearer even than a brother, for he is a part of ourselves. Have I exaggerated in using that expression? No; for is he not our Head, and are we not “members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones,” and should we not therefore rejoice that we are reminded of this great fact by the homely tokens which set him forth so familiarly in this ordinance?

Then you will note, by-and-by, that the bread has to be broken, and the wine poured forth, to show the sufferings of the Saviour. The bread itself is a most impressive type of suffering. The corn is buried in the dark earth, pinched by many a frost when it peers above the ground, and exposed to many trials ere it comes to its full growth. When it is ripe, it is cut down with a sharp sickle, threshed with many a heavy blow, then ground in the mill, the flour kneaded into dough, pressed into the shape of loaves, thrust into a hot oven, and baked, and then in this last process broken. Our blessed Master seemed to be passing through all that experience in his lifetime on earth; he actually used some of the processes that I have described as pictures of himself, as in that notable instance when he said, “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth fruit.” Especially was that last part of the process-the breaking of the bread as a type of his sufferings,-illustrated throughout his whole life. When did he not suffer? What sorrows were crowded into the three years of his public ministry! His life was one of constant suffering, and then at the last came the great climax of it all; and none of us can fully tell what was meant by Gethsemane and its bloody sweat, by Gabbatha and its terrible flagellation, and by Golgotha and its cruel and shameful death upon the accursed tree. There is, also, another most suggestive symbol of Christ’s sufferings in the various processes that result in “the fruit of the vine” in the cup on the communion table; both emblems impressively set forth our Saviour’s sufferings.

But you have more than that, for you have Christ’s death set forth in the instructive symbol of the bread separated from the wine. To mix them in one cup would be to spoil the whole metaphorical teaching of the ordinance. The blood with the flesh is life, but the blood drained from the flesh is death. The blood is represented by the wine by itself in the cup, and the bread by itself represents the flesh; and the two emblems together set forth death, and a violent death, such a death as Jesus died. Did you not sing of it just now,-

“See from his head, his hands, his feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down!

Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?”

Never forget that the punishment for sin is not simply suffering, but death. “The soul that sinneth it shall die;” and it was not until Christ died that the debt, which was due from his people to the justice of God, was fully discharged. The two emblems in this ordinance, therefore, needed to be separate in order to set before us the death of our dear Lord and Saviour, and so to help us to remember him.

Then, the eating of the bread and the drinking of the wine symbolize our reception of Christ into our innermost selves. After looking at the signs, those who communicate eat and drink thereof to show, as in a figure, how Christ is received into the soul. Faith must be the mouth of the soul, and into that mouth we must receive Christ himself, and live upon him. That new life, which God has created within us, must be fed and sustained by the grand truth of the atonement of Christ, the wondrous doctrine of his substitutionary sacrifice on behalf of all who believe in him. There is a very important point of instruction there, and I pray that none of you may ever miss it.

The thought also occurred to me that, when the feast is over, and the bread is eaten, and the wine is drunk, no one ever says, “Where shall we find the bread for another observance of the supper?” or “Whence shall we get wine that we may come again to celebrate this sacred feast?” No; for everybody knows that, practically, of bread there is no stint, and of wine there is no limit, so it seems as though, among other reasons, these two emblems were selected to teach us, by their plenteousness, the all-sufficiency of Christ. When we have spiritually fed upon him to-night, there is as much for us to feed upon to-morrow, and when we have been drinking with joy in remembrance of him, we may come and drink again and again, for this is a very sea of blessing of which we are bidden to drink. If you took a cupful of water from the sea, there would be so much the less there though none could tell the difference; but if you took an oceanful of love and joy out of the Redeemer, there would be none the less left in him. It is true of his grace that it is not diminished by all that his people receive of it, and it never can be exhausted. ’Tis pleasant to gather fruit where there are many heavily-laden trees, and to receive money from a store in which there is much left after we have had all we need; and it is pleasant to come and feast at a table that is still richly laden after myriads have been fed at it, and that is still as full as ever though ten thousand times ten thousand saints have here been feasted to the full.

Thus I think I have shown you, and I pray the Holy Spirit to show you that, in this ordinance, there is much to help us to remember our Lord and Saviour.

But now, beloved, in the third place, it may be useful to you if I call to your mind anew the fact that the remembrance of Christ is of itself most needful for all believers.

For, first, the remembrance of Christ is the prolongation of the act of faith. What is faith but the first look at Christ, and what is remembering him but continuing to look at him? At any rate, if it is not the same thing, the one act leads up to the other, for never did any soul truly remember Christ without its faith growing. Come then to the Lord’s table, all ye who are alive unto God through faith in Jesus Christ, and pray that here your faith may be greatly increased. You have believed on him, and he is made of God unto you “wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.” You have trusted in him, and you are pardoned, accepted, saved by him. Come then to his table, looking to him as your Saviour, looking to him in whom you are accepted, looking to him through whom you hope to enter into heaven at the last. Let your remembrance be blessed to you as being the continuance of your first faith.

Then, next, the remembrance of Christ is a very blessed stimulus to our love. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” say some. That is a questionable proverb in relation to our earthly friends, but I am sure that it never was true, and never will be true with regard to Christ and his people. We must be with him really to love him; and the longer we are with him, the more we shall love him; and when we are with him for ever and for ever without a break, then shall we love him with all our heart, and soul, and strength, without coldness or chill for ever. Remembrance of Christ will bring him to you; it will hold up his portrait before your mind’s eye, and enable you to see his heart beating with love to you; it will make you feel that he still loves you although he reigns exalted high, and then your love will flow out to him more freely in return.

And, beloved, there will be another good thing which will come out of this remembrance of Christ, for it will be the suggestion to you of renewed hope. When a man remembers that Jesus Christ is really his, then he saith, “Have I such a Saviour as this? Then, by-and-by, I shall be with him where he is, and I shall behold his glory, for that is his prayer concerning me. His arm is strong enough to keep me; his heart is warm enough to love me; his eyes are bright enough to see me; I know that I shall be eternally saved by him.”

It seems to me also that, coming to this communion table to remember Christ, if we really do remember him, is like a recall, as when you have heard the trumpet sound for the soldiers to come back to the standard. It is a recall from the world; it says to you, “Now forget your business, forget your pains, forget your family cares, forget everything but your Lord; come back, poor perplexed Martha, and become like Mary, and sit at Christ’s feet. This do in remembrance of him.” It is a recall from self. You have been saying, “I have not grown in grace as I hoped to do; my doubts are many, my sins innumerable, my spiritual state is not what I would fain have it;” then come back from all that to your Lord again,-from the filthiness to the cleansing fountain, from the leprosy to the healing, from prison to the great Liberator, from your poverty to his wealth, from your lost estate to him who is all your salvation, and all your desire, and who says to you, “This do in remembrance of me.” It calls you back from introspection, from looking within to looking away to your Lord, looking off unto Jesus.

And does not this remembrance call all of us back to our Lord from whatever we have been engaged in, even for his own name’s sake? Have we been engaged in controversy? Have we been fighting for liberty of worship, for the severance of Church and State, for Calvinistic doctrine, for some view of the Second Advent, or for any particular form of doctrine? Then I think I hear the voice of Jesus saying, “Come back, my child, from the battlefield on which thou hast been contending with a brave and true heart for the defence of my faith: come back to me, myself. I call thee now not to remember doctrine, but to remember me. ‘This do in remembrance of me.’ ” So let us come together to his table though we differ from one another in many respects; we can remember him in unity here wherever else we may not be able to unite. And let us come back, too, from all our Christian labours. I would like to forget, at this table, everything that is faulty in my own work, or in the work of my brethren, or in their characters, everything that might grieve, and vex, and annoy. We will try to put it all away from us, for just now our Lord’s command to us is, “This do in remembrance of me.”

I said that this remembrance was like a recall, to summon the soldiers back to the standard; but it also seems to me like the morning bugle sounding clearly throughout the camp to wake the soldiers. “This do in remembrance of me.” Christ has gone up into his glory, away from the damps and mists of earth. Think, beloved, of the glory and brightness that abound where he standeth, and of which he is the central sun; and from that glory, clear and shrill, as though it were the first notes from the archangel’s trumpet, I hear the message sounding again and again, “Remember me! Remember me! Remember me in my glory as well as in my shame; remember me in my triumph as well as in my warfare. ‘This do in remembrance of me.’ ” If we have really believed in Jesus, let us come to his table as though our communion here were the first course of that everlasting supper to which we shall sit down with him above; or, to change the figure, and make it more correct, let this sacred feast be, as one of the martyrs called it, the break-fast, wherein we break the long fast of this world, and feed on heaven’s bread with Christ, knowing that we shall soon be at the great marriage supper of the Lamb, which shall know no end, and where we shall feast for ever in his sight.

Is it not true, then, that in this remembrance there is much that is precious, and valuable, and really needful to all who believe on the Lord Jesus Christ?

But now I must close by reminding you that this symbolic festival is highly beneficial in refreshing our memories.

I am sure we need this supper, though it be but a material feast, because we are yet in the body. There are some people who, if they had the power, would be presumptuous enough to do away with baptism and the Lord’s supper because they have been so grossly misused; but if they could blot them out, it would be an irreparable loss to the Church of Christ. These ordinances are the only link between the spirituality of our faith and materialism; but we must remember that God has not flung away materialism as a thing that cannot be bettered. He did curse the earth once, and it still brings forth thorns and thistles; but he does not mean it to remain under the curse always. There will come a time when there shall be a new heaven and a new earth literally; and here, where sin has triumphed, grace shall reign. Believers are still here in the body, but Paul’s words are as true to-day as when he wrote them, “Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you?” These very bodies of ours shall rise again from the grave; they may sleep in the dust for a while, but they shall come again from the land of their captivity, and in our flesh shall we see God, and our body as well as our spirit shall enjoy an eternity of bliss with our Saviour in his body as well as in his spirit in his great triumph. Of course, it will not be such flesh as it now is, for flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; but, still, it will be the same body, though it will have undergone a wonderful change. So I thank God for the two ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s supper, because they teach me that nothing is common or unclean. They sanctify the rivers to me, they sanctify my daily bread to me; they make me feel, not as if I lived, like a Brahmin, in a world where everything might pollute me, but, like a Christian, in a world where Christ has lived, and in a position in which everything may be to me “holiness unto the Lord” if my heart is right before him.

Not only is this symbolic festival beneficial to us because materialism still appertains to our bodies, but it is specially so because Jesus appointed it. He would never have appointed a needless ceremony, and he was no lover of useless ceremonial. He never wrote a Directorium (is not that the name of it?) giving instructions as to how to celebrate various ecclesiastical ceremonies. So, as he has ordained this memorial he must have known that we needed it because of our forgetfulness; and we may be quite sure that, as he has ordained it, he will make it answer the ends for which he instituted it.

Besides, experience has taught many of us how valuable this ordinance is. I can bear my own witness that, many and many a Sabbath, when I have found but little food for my own, soul elsewhere, I have found it at the communion table. You know that, sometimes, we who preach the gospel are not ourselves fed by it even when those who hear us may be feasting upon it; but the Master still presides at his own table, and he sees that the minister is fed as well as the rest of the communicants. I have been in a foreign land, where there was no congregation to meet for public worship, but the two or three believers who were there have always broken bread together each Sabbath day, and it has been to us quite a full service, most strengthening to the soul, when we have gathered around the table of our Lord to do “this” in remembrance of him.

One other thing I will mention, and that is, how often has Christ set his seal to this supper by blessing it, not only to those who were doing it in remembrance of him, but even to those who were only spectators. It is an encouraging thought to us that the Spirit of God, while he has been hovering over the assembly of believers in Jesus, has turned his eyes of pity upon those who were but observers, looking on at the ordinance, and has made the symbols to be a sermon, and the communion service to be a most impressive discourse; and many there are, now in heaven, who were led there through holy thoughts that were first implanted in their minds and hearts at the communion feast; and many others are on their way to glory whose feet were first guided into the right road while they were watching others who had met together thus to remember their dear Lord and Saviour. So prize this ordinance much, beloved, because it is so highly beneficial to you in refreshing your memories, and also because, incidentally, it may be made a means of blessing to others.

I close by saying that it is clear, from our Lord’s command, that attendance at this ordinance is binding upon all Christians. “This do”-not, “This look at”-but, “This do in remembrance of me.” All who truly love their Lord should hear him say to them, “If ye love me, keep my commandments.” Some believers neglect this ordinance. If any such are in this congregation now, I would say to them,-Beloved friends, you are losing a great blessing, and you are disobedient to your Lord. Think what would happen if all other believers were to do as you are doing. If they did (and they have as much right to do it as you have), then the Lord’s supper would cease to be celebrated, and this showing forth of Christ’s death, which is to go on “till he come,” would necessarily cease. Your abstaining from church-membership and your neglect of the two ordinances appointed by Christ is an example which it would be disastrous for all others to follow. Do not imagine that this neglect on your part can be right, but end it at the first convenient opportunity. The observance of this ordinance will not save you; and if you are not already saved, you have no right to partake of it; but if you are saved, if you have really believed in Jesus, he says to you, “This do in remembrance of me.”

Remember, too, that this ordinance is to be often observed by all Christians. Our Lord said to his disciples, “This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.” I will not say that Christ actually laid down the rule that it should be observed often, but it seems to me that his words imply that it should be; and as often as it is observed, it should be in remembrance of him. Do not live month after month without remembering Christ by means of these outward signs which he has himself appointed as his special memorial. Remember him often. Pray that memory may ever bear his image on its very front, but do not neglect the helpful ordinance which the Lord himself instituted for you.

And then, last of all, never come to this table except it be with the solemn determination that you will remember him. You mock Christ if you regard this communion as anything other than the remembrance of him. What is there in that bread, what is there in that wine? There is nothing whatsoever there but bread and wine after we have invoked a blessing upon them just as there was before. We pay these emblems no reverence of any kind, nor could we do so without being guilty of idolatry. There is nothing in the whole ordinance but a help to our memory, and I have tried to explain to you how it does help the memory; but if you do not remember Jesus, if you have no faith in him, if you do not love him, if you do not cast yourselves wholly upon him, what business have you at his table? You have no part nor lot in this matter. Faith in Christ first, then baptism, then the Lord’s supper; but neither of these ordinances is for unbelievers; and whosoever dares to observe them as an unbeliever, or to get others who believe not in Christ to observe them, is a profaner of the ordinances, a thief and a robber who is doing incalculable mischief to the souls of men. Come to Jesus first; believe in him, and you shall be saved. Go to the foot of the cross, confessing your sin, and trusting in him who hung there; and then, after that, we are told to bid you remember all things that he has commanded you, and to tell you that he has promised to be with us even to the end of the age. Observe ye, then, these things in their right order; faith in Jesus first, and then obedience to Jesus and the remembrance of Jesus in his own appointed way. If you miss the all-important matter of faith in Jesus, you have gained the chaff, but lost the wheat; you have gained the salt, but it hath no savour; you have a name to live, but you have not life eternal. God grant that none of us may be found thus lacking the one thing needful, for Jesus Christ’s sake! Amen.