C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington,

On Thursday Evening, March 19th, 1868.

“How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!”-Psalm 139:17.*

It is very comforting to us to believe in a personal God, and to be able to confide in One who condescends to think lovingly of us, and to consider our needs, and to supply them. It would not be very comforting to us to believe in a mere abstract Deity, or in what some people call “the laws of nature” acting by themselves apart from God, or in a fixed fate that would crush us like some colossal car of Juggernaut. Yet some people seem to be always struggling to get away from the thought of one true personal God,-Creator, Preserver, Redeemer, and All-in-all to his people. Those who deny the inspired record of the creation would have us believe that we are descended from monkeys, or from something with even less intelligence than an ape possesses; but I could gather no comfort from such a belief as that if it were true. It fills me rather with pity or contempt for those who can be so foolish as to cherish such a delusion. But when I come back to the revelation of the Bible concerning a personal God, a revelation which has been confirmed by my own spiritual experience, and when I realize that this personal God takes a special interest in me, and thinks of me with tender, loving, gracious consideration, then I lift up my hands in adoring wonder, and say, as David did, “How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!” Yes, there is great comfort in being able truthfully to say, “Our Father, who art in heaven;” and those who are really the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty find it to be their chief delight that he thinketh about them, and planneth all that is for their present and eternal good.

Coming to our text, I ask you to consider, first, how precious are God’s thoughts of us, and how precious it is to us to think about these thoughts.

First of all, let me say that the very fact that God thinks of us is in itself precious. Perhaps someone here says, “It is not so in my case; I am quite alarmed at the thought that God thinks about me. It is no comfort to me to say, ‘Thou God seest me;’ such a thought as that only fills me with terror.” I can quite understand, dear friend, how you feel; of course, if you only think of God as if he were an officer of justice with a warrant for your apprehension, it must be a dreadful thing for you to realize that he is thinking of you; but suppose you were his child, would it not then be a continual joy to you to reflect that your heavenly Father was constantly thinking of you? If you were completely reconciled to him by the death of his Son, if no consciousness of guilt remained upon your conscience, if you knew that all God’s thoughts concerning you were thoughts of love, then you would bless his name that he was so gracious and kind as to think of you.

Further, those who are serving the Lord delight to remember that he is thinking of them. After we have been reconciled to God, it becomes our great privilege to spend such strength as we have in promoting his glory. Well, no one is ashamed of being sent on a good errand. The eye of God, instead of being dreadful to the man whose heart is right with him, is one of his greatest encouragements. He feels that, though his fellow-men may never say, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” it will be enough for him to know that God has seen him, that God keeps a book of remembrance, and that, at the last, a full reward, not of debt, but of grace, shall be given to him who is faithful. I do not know how it is with you idle professors who profess to be saved, but who do little or nothing for Christ; I do not see how the fact that God is observing you can give you any comfort. If it is true that you are not your own, but that you are bought with a price, even with the precious blood of Jesus, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot, can you calmly think of God watching your idle hours, listening to your many words that have no weight, no value in them, and noting how you neglect your many opportunities of serving your day and generation? But, on the other hand, in proportion as you are constrained by the love of Christ to be instant in season and out of season, in the same proportion will it be sweet to you to remember that the Lord is observing you, and that he is ever at your right hand to help you in your service for him.

We also learn the preciousness of God’s thoughts to us as we depend implicitly upon him as the great Lord of providence. It is of little use to you to have anyone thinking of you if his thoughts never bring you any practical help; but if you have a rich friend who has promised, as soon as possible, to find you a position in which you will be provided for as long as you live, I should not be surprised to hear that, even while you have been at this service, you have been gratefully thinking of him. “Yes,” you have been saying, “I could not make my way on my own account, but I have a friend at my back who says that he will see that I shall never be in want, and it comforts me to think that he is thinking of me.” Well then, if the promise of an earthly friend affords so much consolation as that, how much more should this be the case with you who have a heavenly Friend who is both able and willing to fulfil all his promises! He is always thinking of what is best for you, what you require to-day, and what you will require to-morrow; he is always forestalling your wants, providing Elims with wells and palm trees while you are travelling through the desert; and as you meditate upon the way in which he is thinking of how he shall bless, and perfect, and glorify you, his thoughts must indeed be precious to you.

One reason why God’s thoughts concerning us are peculiarly precious is that gracious men long to get near to God. They are not satisfied with what they are. The wanderings of their thoughts towards inferior objects are a burden to them, and they are continually longing to get nearer to God. If there is one cry that rises more frequently to our lips than any other, it is this,-

“Nearer, my God, to thee,

Nearer to thee!”

But, alas! our thoughts of God are a very poor help to us in drawing us nearer to him, they flag, and tire, and soon die; but the thoughts of God toward us are strong, like God himself is, and these, like so many unbreakable cords firmly fastened to us, are drawing us ever nearer to him. Thought leads to action, and God’s thinking of us leads to the practical action of drawing us nearer to himself. So the fact that he is continually thinking of us encourages us to believe that we shall one day be close to him, and be fitted to be close to him, being perfectly conformed to the image of Christ, and drawn into the closest possible fellowship with God.

And the nearer we get to God, the more precious will his thoughts of us become to us. If we were not such babes in Christ, and so carnal, we should prize every crumb from our Father’s table, and much more every thought from our Father’s mind. We should prize, far above gold, and rubies, what I may call the ordinary outgoings of the divine mind in his providential arrangements for us; but much more should we value those deep, eternal, infinite thoughts which have already secured our salvation, and which shall, ere long, complete our sanctification and our glorification too.

Now, secondly, there are some points in connection with God’s thoughts of us which render them all the more precious to us.

And, first, let us remember that God’s thoughts of us art everlasting. When we begin to think of Jehovah’s thoughts of love concerning his people, we have to go back beyond the region of time, and to get where all dates are lost in the shoreless sea of eternity. Beloved, you were loved of your God long ere he created the world; yea, from everlasting he had thoughts of love toward you, then must not those thoughts be indeed precious to you? Besides, as they were from eternity, so they will be to eternity; God will still be thinking lovingly of you when sun, and moon, and stars have fulfilled their mission, and been forgotten, and when all things which men now count solid and lasting shall have dissolved like the bubble upon the billow’s crest, and passed away for ever. God has so linked you with his Son that he has made you also to have a life which is eternal, and which can never die. Let all things else perish, and the pillars of the universe crumble and decay, and the whole visible creation fall with thunderous crash, yet you, the beloved of the Lord, shall dwell safely with him,-

“Far from a world of grief and sin

With God eternally shut in.”

His thoughts will always be directed towards you, he will never forget you. There has never been a moment in the past when he did not think of you; even in your years of sin, he looked upon you with an eye of pity; in your deepest depression his heart was full of sympathy for you; never has there been an hour, in the silent watches of the night, or amid the cares and business of the day, in which he has not always been thinking of you just as much as if you were the only being he had ever created. The Lord has from the first been looking upon you and thinking of you as though you were the sole centre of his undivided attention, and so will he continue to think of you incessantly.

The Lord’s thoughts of you are especially precious because they have always been thoughts of love. Even when you were dead in trespasses and sins, and he hated your sins, he did not hate you, for he had loved you with an everlasting love.

“He saw you ruined in the fall,

Yet loved you, notwithstanding all;

He saved you from your lost estate,

His loving-kindness, oh, how great!”

This is the love of which Paul wrote to the Ephesians, “his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins.” And ever since your conversion God’s thoughts concerning you have been thoughts of love. He has smitten you sorely until you have felt that surely he must be your enemy, but it was not so, never has there been anything but love for you in the great eternal heart of God. If-

“With afflictions he may scourge us,

Send a cross for every day;”-

this is not a proof of his anger toward us; on the contrary, it is a token of his affection,-

“All to make us

Sick of self, and fond of him.”

Besides this, God’s thoughts of us have always been wise thoughts. They have not been such casual thoughts as pass through men’s minds while journeying quickly by road or rail, and merely noticing this object here and that other object over yonder; but God’s thoughts have infinitely more in them than the deepest thoughts of men ever can have. You know that there are many ways of thinking of a certain thing; you may think of it in such a way as just to keep it in remembrance, or you may think of it so intently as to lie awake at night, turning it over in your mind, looking at it from all points of view, so that you may understand it in all its bearings. You may think of it with the careful consideration that a barrister gives to an important case for which he is about to plead, or that an inventor gives to the intricate details of a machine that he is seeking to perfect. Such consideration as that, only of an infinitely higher order, God gives to every one of his people. He is continually arranging that which is most for their good in his providential dealings with them, and constantly thinking and working on their behalf with the ultimate view of bringing many sons unto glory. God’s thoughts are always wise, but they are so high above our thoughts that we cannot attain to them; yet, the more we are able to comprehend them, the more wisdom and prudence shall we perceive in them.

Once more, these thoughts of God towards us are pre-eminently practical. God so thought of you, brethren and sisters in Christ, as to ordain you unto eternal life. Concerning the whole Church of the living God this decree was pronounced, “They shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels.” Not only was there a divine decree concerning them, but there was an eternal covenant made between the Father and the Son, by which the everlasting salvation of all the chosen is infallibly secured. More than that, in the fulness of time, those eternal thoughts of love took practical effect in the gift of God’s only-begotten and well-beloved Son to die for his people, “the Just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.” These thoughts of God further took effect by the coming into our hearts of the Holy Spirit, so that now, through his divine power and energy, we have been converted, renewed in the spirit of our minds, helped thus far towards heaven, and comforted with the full assurance that we shall, in due time, be brought into our heavenly Father’s immediate presence, unblemished and complete. So you see, beloved, that the thoughts of God toward us should be exceedingly precious to us because they are of such a practical character that they bring to us all the blessings, temporal and spiritual, which we daily enjoy.

Now, thirdly, let us briefly notice some times when God’s thoughts are peculiarly precious to us.

It is so when we have been betrayed and deserted by some in whom we have confided. When he that ate bread with us hath lifted up his heel against us, then we turn to our ever-faithful Friend, and we rejoice to know that his thoughts concerning us are never false and treacherous. He is the Friend who sticketh closer than a brother; he is always true even though everyone else should prove to be a liar. Ahithopel may forsake his king, Judas may betray his Lord, and we in our measure may know what it is to be forsaken and betrayed; but God’s thoughts towards us shall, all the while, be thoughts of love and faithfulness. Vain was the trust we reposed in some who went out from us because they were not of us; but God has never forsaken us, he has ever been thinking of us for good, and therefore his thoughts are peculiarly precious to us.

So are they also when we are neglected by our fellow-Christians and by others who ought to esteem us. It must be very hard to continue toiling on in some obscure sphere without having a kind word or a cheering smile from anyone; to be living, perhaps, as a servant in a family, and striving to do your duty faithfully, yet never meeting with the slightest encouragement from those at the head of the household; or to be earnestly working as a Bible-woman or a city missionary in some back district, and having so little success that your superintendent looks upon you as if you were doing nothing. I can imagine how painful this must be to your sensitive spirit, and how comforting it is to you to think, “Well, Jesus knows all about it, and his thoughts are worth far more than the thoughts of men, for he can read my heart, and he can see that it is love to him that constrains me to do what I can in his service. Men may call me a fool, but if my Master knows that I only desire to be a fool for his sake, if he considers that I am faithfully serving him to the best of my ability, how precious will his thoughts be to me!”

This is also specially the case when our words and actions are misconstrued and misrepresented. Some of us know what this trial means. When we have tried to be disinterested, and have really been so, men have said that we have acted from some sinister motive. When we have spoken with the utmost plainness and simplicity, we have often been misunderstood, and worse than that, we have been wilfully misrepresented; well, what then? Our heavenly Father knows the sincerity of our motives and the meaning of our words, so we take the whole case away from this lower court where human tongues jangle and cause strife, and we appeal to the supreme Court of King’s Bench in heaven. Our petition is, “O Lord, give thou the verdict in this case! Thou knowest who has desired to serve thee faithfully, and to speak thy truth with courage; do thou give a righteous decision which none can gainsay!” At such times as these, the fact that God thinks upon us is peculiarly precious to us.

So is it in times of perplexity, when we are, as Bunyan said, “all tumbled up and down in our thoughts.” I suppose, dear friends, you sometimes get into such a condition that, although you have all the forces of omnipotence at your disposal, you are so distracted that you do not know how to make use of them. You are in a place where two seas meet, wave upon wave rolls over you, and you fear that you will be overwhelmed. You do not know what to do, you cannot think of any way of escape out of your perplexity. Well then, do not try to do it, cease from even thinking about the matter, and refer it to the great Thinker whose master-mind can bring good out of evil, light out of darkness, and order out of confusion.

God’s thoughts are also precious to us when our own thoughts are bright and cheerful. The genuine Christian does not run to his God merely in his times of trouble, but he delights himself in the Lord at all times, and under all circumstances. He thinks of him when he is in the land of drought, but he does not forget him in the land of peace and plenty, for he sings then,-

“If peace and plenty crown my days,

They help me, Lord, to speak thy praise.”

Let your brightest thoughts, beloved, always be those that concern your Lord; and above all the joys of earth let this joy rise to the very zenith, that your heavenly Father thinks of you. This is a better fortune for you than thousands of gold and silver; this is a better protection for you than the friendship of ten thousand times ten thousand earthly friends; this a greater consolation than all the comforts of time can ever afford you. In your brightest hours, believer, I hope that you will still say, with the psalmist, “How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!”

My time has gone, but I want to give you just a few practical observations arising out of this subject.

The first is this,-if God’s thoughts are so precious to us, how very precious his words ought to be! Here, in this inspired volume, you have the thoughts of the Divine Thinker incarnated, if I may use the word in that sense, and therefore I would have you prize very highly every word in this blessed Book. There are many nowadays who refuse to believe in the verbal inspiration of the Scriptures, but I fail to see how the sense of Scripture can be inspired if the words in which that sense is expressed are not also inspired. I believe that the very words, in the original Hebrew and Greek, were revealed from heaven; and notwithstanding every objection that can be brought from any quarter, I have never been able to get away from the firm belief that, if I give up my Master’s words, I give up his thoughts also. I cannot well love a man’s soul without having an affection for his body also; and I cannot love God’s thoughts, which are the soul of his revelation, without loving the words which are the body in which it comes to us. Do not tamper with the words of Scripture, nor even with a single letter of it; but say, “How precious also are thy words unto me, O God!” Have we not known times when the blessing which we have derived from a text has come to our hearts, not so much from the main thought contained in it, as from the use of one special word? Some of us, on turning to our Greek Testaments, have been perfectly astounded to find that a particular word has been used which has exactly met the predicament in which we have been placed; and if the Holy Spirit had moved the writer to use any other word, it would not have been so suitable to the circumstances in which we then were. We praise him for selecting that very word, and not any one of its synonyms, which would not so precisely have met our case. Therefore, brethren and sisters in Christ, prize the words of God above everything else that you possess.

Oh, for more Bible-reading! I fear that this is an age when almost everything else is read except that which is most worth residing. I believe that many professedly Christian people positively poison their minds, and stop up all the avenues of sense with the masses of sawdust, chaff, and draff that they get out of their light reading, which a man might read to all eternity without ever being the better for it. Yet, all the while, there are solid, sober, interesting books, full of valuable information and instruction, that are left unread; and, worst of all, God’s Book, the Bible itself is lying neglected upon the shelf. True Bible-readers and Bible-searchers never find it wearisome. They like it least who know it least, and they love it most who read it most. They find it newest who have known it longest, and they find the pasture to be the richest whose souls have been the longest fed upon it. When one of our missionaries had to read a certain Book of the Old Testament through a hundred times while he was translating it, he said that he certainly enjoyed the hundredth time of reading it more than he did the first, for he understood it better, and it seemed to him to be fuller and fresher the more familiar he became with it.

In the next place, as God’s thoughts are so precious to us, God’s actions, which spring from his thoughts, ought also to be precious to his people. They ought to be so, but are they? Perhaps one of God’s actions has been to lay low in sickness one who is very dear to you; can you say to God, “How precious is that action”? No; you shake your head, for you cannot say that. Possibly you have had a great loss to-day, and that loss came by the direct act of God. Now, God first thought, then he acted, and took away something that you greatly prized. You say that you cannot see any preciousness in that; but if you judged according to faith, and not according to sense, you would say, “Yes, Lord, this trial is precious to me because I believe it comes from thee, and I will not only submit to it, but I will thank thee for it, and even fall in love with the cross which thou layest upon me.” As we look back over our past experience, we see how precious our trials have been to us. Someone said, “Give me back my bed of languishing, give me back the aches and pains that I suffered in that long trying illness, if I may but have such enjoyment of my Master’s presence as I had then.”

Now, in closing, let me just say that, as God’s thoughts are so precious to us, we should make the best return we can by thinking much of him. Thou, believer, art married to Christ, and as thine Husband is ever thinking of thee, canst thou be content to live without thinking often of him? Hast thou lived through this day in forgetfulness of him? Hast thou been so occupied with the toils and cares of this life that thou hast forgotten him who has given thee a higher, nobler, and better life than this? If that has been the case with thee, then blush for very shame, and ask forgiveness of thy Lord, and let this be thy sincere prayer now, “Lord Jesus, thou art always thoughtful of me; henceforth by thy gracious Spirit’s blessed working, make me always thoughtful of thee.”

I fear that I am addressing a great many who do not often think of God, and that there are some of you to whom it would be a comfort if there were no God at all. Or, if you do think of him at all, he is only an all-powerful Being of whom you stand in dread because you fear that he will punish you for your sins. Then take warning by your own thoughts of God, and seek to be reconciled to him so that you may no longer have cause to fear his righteous anger. That reconciliation may be obtained by simple faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the one Mediator between God and men; so, if you put your case into his hands, and ask him to act as your Advocate, he will, by his Spirit, reveal to you the glorious truth that the reconciliation was effected, long ago, when he laid down his life for you upon the cross of Calvary. Then, when you have received this blessed assurance, it shall be your continual delight to think of God, and your constant bliss to know that he is thinking of you; and you will say, in the words of our text, “How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!”

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

PSALM 119:105-120

We will read to-night two of the stanzas which make up the 119th Psalm, beginning at the 105th verse.

Verse 105. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

God’s Word is full of brilliance; it is always giving out its blessed light. It casts a light upon all our daily life. It is a light for the house, and a light for the way, and happy is the man who never walks abroad without this lantern to light up his pathway. There are many pitfalls on the road, and many places where the traveller’s garments may soon be besmeared, so he has great need of this light to guide him.

106. I have sworn, and I will perform it, that I will keep thy righteous judgments.

I scarcely remember ever hearing of a man swearing, and then approving of it; but this kind of swearing is right enough: “I have sworn, and I will perform it, that I will keep thy righteous judgments.” We are to determine, with the most vehement resolution, that, God helping us, we will keep his righteous judgments; for, if we have only a weak resolution, we usually fall short even of our own determination. What shall we do then if that determination is itself weak? Some of us have lifted our hands to heaven, and pledged ourselves to the living God that we will be his faithful people.

“High heaven, that heard the solemn vow,

That vow renewed shall daily hear.”

107. I am afflicted very much:-

Here is a good man, a better man than most of us, a man who is determined to do right, yet he gets into trouble because he is determined to do right. God’s wheat will be threshed; his gold will be put into the furnace. If you were worth nothing to him, God might not take the trouble to afflict you; but when you are resolved to do right, you may expect that resolution to be tried and tested; and if it is worth anything, it will stand the trial.

“I am afflicted very much:”-what will be the next words, “Lord, deliver me”? No; no. “Lord, bring me out of the furnace”? Nothing of the sort. “I am afflicted very much:”-

107. Quicken me, O Lord, according unto thy word.

“Give me more spiritual life; give me more spiritual strength; that is what I most need.” Oftentimes, that prayer is answered by the affliction itself. We are afflicted very much, and by that very affliction the Lord quickens our graces, strengthens our souls, drives away many of our wandering thoughts, and brings us nearer to himself.

108. Accept, I beseech thee, the freewill offering of my mouth, O Lord,-

“My prayers, my praises, my testimonies, my ministries,-accept them all, O Lord,”-

108. And teach me thy judgments.

He who teaches others needs teaching himself. He who hopes that what he says will be accepted by those who hear it opens his ear to hear what God says to him. There will be no acceptance of what thou sayest to others unless thou dost accept what God says to thee.

109. My soul is continually in my hand:

David’s life was often in jeopardy. Saul hunted him as a partridge upon the mountains, and he afterwards fled from Absalom. He was sometimes very sick, and ready to die. Perhaps also, at times, he was in such great sorrow that he felt as if his soul was a thing that he held in his hand. We do not know exactly where our soul is, but we usually think of it as being somewhere in the very centre of our being. David says that he had his soul in his hand, where he might at any time lose it; but what else does he say?

109. Yet do I not forget thy law.

“If I have even to die for it, I am willing to die for it. If I have to lay down my life because I will do right, I will do right even while I lay down my life.”

110. The wicked have laid a snare for me: yet I erred not from thy precepts.

“If I had done so, I should have been caught in their snare; but as I kept straight on in the way of thy precepts, it little mattered how many snares they laid for me.”

111. Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever:-

Some take their own thoughts for their heritage, but it is a poor portion for anyone to have. Some take other men’s philosophies for their heritage, but such a heritage as that is soon gone. But some of us can say, with regard to the eternal and immutable truth of God, that we have got such a grip of it that we cannot give it up. There may come a thousand other changes; but, by God’s grace, there will be no change in this matter: “Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever:”-

111. For they are the rejoicing of my heart.*

Well may a man love that which rightly makes him glad. Shall we ever forsake that which is the source of our greatest comfort? If some men had greater gladness in the gospel, they would be more true to it. If they had ever eaten the sweet, and enjoyed the fat things full of marrow, they would never go away from the old old gospel which has made their hearts so glad.

112, 113. I have inclined mine heart to perform thy statutes alway, even unto the end. I hate vain thoughts: but thy law do I love.

Notice that the word “vain” is not in the original; the psalmist wrote, “I hate thoughts,” yet the word for thoughts includes the idea of mere thoughts. So, if any teaching in the world is the result of human thought alone, you may not rely upon it for a moment, for “the Lord knoweth the thoughts of man, that they are vanity,” and they never will be anything better than that. The thoughts even of the most profound and the best instructed of men will not bear the weight and pressure of an immortal soul’s eternal interests. Revelation is the only reliable thing that we can rest upon. What God has spoken is all true; but as for what men have thought, I have been so often disappointed and deceived that I can say, with the psalmist, “I hate mere thoughts: but thy law do I love.” In the law of the Lord there are verities, certainties, immutabilities; here may we abide, and rest securely.

114. Thou art my hiding place and my shield: I hope in thy word.

For thou wilt be sure to do as thou hast said. Thy promises are not like men’s, they cannot be broken; and when I get one of thy promises, O my God, I hide behind it, I am protected by it, and I am comforted through it.

115. Depart from me, ye evildoers: for I will keep the commandments of my God.

Holy men often find that, in order to be holy, they have to be solitary. It sometimes happens that the force of evil companionship is too much for the gracious heart to bear, and the Christian man has to say to the ungodly, “Depart from me.” Now, if even godly David had to say to evil-doers, “Depart from me,” you need not wonder that the Lord Jesus Christ will one day say to all impenitent men, “Depart from me, ye evil-doers.”

If we keep the commandments of our God, we shall often have to walk in a separate path from the ungodly; and even if we do not keep ourselves to ourselves, we shall keep ourselves to our God.

116. Uphold me-

I thought we should soon come to that petition. We have been reading about David’s resolutions, and we might have thought that he was too bold in speaking so positively; but now he shows us the modesty of his mind: “Uphold me”-

116. According unto thy word, that I may live:

The Lord upholds us as a nurse holds up a little child, and teaches him to walk. “ ‘Uphold me,’ O Lord, for I cannot stand by myself. My good resolutions will soon evaporate unless thou dost sustain me.” There is a gracious promise which just answers this petition, “I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

116. And let me not be ashamed of my hope.

“O my God, never let me have to say that I have hoped in thee in vain! I know I never shall, but I trust to thee not to disappoint me. Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth me!”

117. Hold thou me up,*-

One is fond of that short, simple prayer; first it is, “Uphold me,” and then, “Hold me up;” either way it is equally good: “Hold thou me up,”-

117. And I shall be safe: and I will have respect unto thy statutes continually.

When God holds us up, there is no fear of our falling down; we have respect unto his statutes when he has respect unto us.

118, 119. Thou hast trodden down all them that err from thy statutes: for their deceit is falsehood. Thou puttest away all the wicked of the earth like dross:-

Perhaps some of you have seen the great heaps of slag lying outside the furnace; that is a picture of the ungodly: “Thou puttest away all the wicked of the earth like dross:”-

119. Therefore I love thy testimonies.

What! does love to the truth, and to the God of truth spring out of this putting away of the wicked? Yes, even the stern justice of God makes his people love him, and love his truth. I am of the same mind as the children of Israel were when Pharaoh and his army were swallowed up in the Red Sea, and the emancipated slaves sang unto the Lord who had triumphed so gloriously. Some cannot do that because their sympathy is so entirely with the wicked, but the destruction of all that is evil creates a flow of joy in the heart of the true believer. Still, it is a fearsome joy, full of holy awe and trembling.

120. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee; and I am afraid of thy judgments.

Well may we also tremble when we see how terrible God is out of his holy places. There is a fear which is akin to love. As there is a fear which perfect love casts out, so is there another fear which love dandles on her knee, and such is the fear which David felt. May we too ever have that holy awe of God in our hearts! Amen.

UNREASONABLE REASONS

A Sermon

Published on Thursday, April 27th, 1911,

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”-Matthew 14:31.*

Our Saviour did not ask Peter that question for his own information. He could have told Peter much more about his unbelieving heart than Peter knew. The Saviour was well acquainted with those springs from which the unbelief of Peter arose. He asked it, therefore, rather, that Peter might make the enquiry of himself,-that he might look into the matter, and see how groundless his unbelief was, so that on the next occasion he might not fall into the same error. I believe it is sometimes a very great cure for unbelief to look it in the face even while we are under it; and after we have escaped from it, it is still a preventive for the future if we look back upon it, and reason concerning it. Remember how David, in the forty-second Psalm, twice asked himself, “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?” He was persuaded that the questioning of his unbelief would convict him of its folly. It only needs to be looked at closely to lose all its terror, to be robbed of its seeming foundation, and to be overcome.

I am afraid that most of us have, some time or other in our lives, been like sinking Peter, and have cried, “Lord, save me,” not in tones of faith, but in the language of unbelief; and if so, it will be as good a thing for us as for Peter to hear the Master say to us to-night, “Wherefore didst thou doubt? Wherefore didst thou doubt? Was there any good reason for it? Was there any excuse for it? Did any good come of it? Wherefore didst thou doubt?” And I hope, too, that after I have spoken to believers in that way, I may have a word for sinners; only for them I shall have to take liberties with the text, and alter it into the present tense, saying to anyone who is desirous of peace in Christ, but who trembles and is afraid, “Wherefore dost thou doubt? Wherefore dost thou doubt? Why dost thou continue in this state of hesitancy and unbelief?”

First, then, I have to say to the child of God, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

Some Christians appear to go from one form of doubt to another. Fears are with them perennial. They are plants that affect the shade; they seldom open their golden cups to drink in the blessed light of the divine sun. Even the strongest believers are, I fear, at times overcome with this disease. As King David, that matchless warrior, once waxed faint, the bravest servants of God sometimes faint even in the day of battle. I will ask them, each one, to look back upon any seasons of doubtings or faintings, whether they be numerous or few, and I will then say to each one, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

Did you doubt the promise thinking it was not firm enough? It was a promise to meet your trial; did you distrust it? It was the promise of God; did you think that peradventure it was fallible, and might be broken? It was a promise sent to you by inspired apostles or prophets as the case might be; did you still think it was no better than the word of a man, and might fall to the ground? You have often placed great reliance upon the promises of those you love; could you not rely upon the promise of God? You have found man’s promise sometimes true when you have trusted it; were you afraid that God’s promise would not be true; or was it that you had met with so many disappointments trusting in an arm of flesh that you thought the Lord to be altogether such as man is? Did you think that he was a man that he would lie, or the son of man that he would repent? Did you forget that Jesus Christ made the promises Yea and Amen in himself to the glory of God? Was that the reason? If so, how wicked it was to doubt the promise of God! How could you do it?

Did your unbelief assail the promise in itself? Did you think your deliverance a matter of such difficulty that omnipotence could not accomplish it? Were you in such want that you supposed the stores of heaven could not supply you? Were you of their mind who said, “Can God furnish a table in the wilderness?” Or of his who exclaimed, “If the Lord would make windows in heaven, might this thing be?” Did you conceive that anything was too hard for the Lord; that his arm was shortened, that he could not save; that his granaries were empty, that he could not feed you; that the river of God, which is full of water, was dried up? Did you conceive that the munitions wherein you dwelt were no longer munitions of rock, but of crumbling sand, that your bread would not be given you, and that your water would not be sure, because God had failed? Beloved, if that thought lay at the bottom of your unbelief, was it not a baseless thing indeed? What a slander upon God, and upon God’s almightiness, to think that he had promised what he could not perform! Whether it was his truthfulness or his power which your unbelief attacked, it was equally a wanton and an unpardonable thing. God will pardon it, I know; but I mean that it was unpardonable to yourself, for surely you must now feel as if you could not forgive yourself for having doubted either the power or the truthfulness of your God.

Where else did the unbelief lie? Had you something in your own experience which troubled you? Was there something which you remembered in the past of failure on God’s part? I will ask you,-though I do not want you to answer to anyone but just to whisper the answer to yourself,-Had there been a cause in some dark hour? Had he forsaken you? Had he proved an Ahithophel? Though you had eaten with him, did he lift up his heel against you? Did he turn a deaf ear to you when you sought him in the hour of peril? Had he then been false after all? Was there something dark and mysterious to others, which to yourself was made plain by the belief that the Lord had deceived you, that he had utterly failed and changed? Was it so? You repudiate with horror the thought. Then, beloved, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?” Since already you deny that the promise made you doubt, or that the Promiser was one whom you had cause to doubt, since also you must now confess that there was nothing in your experience that could have caused you to doubt, because the past had all been a proof of the faithfulness of God, then “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

The child that has always been fed by its father, to whom the father has always been kind, loving, and tender, who then doubts without any sort of reason, is surely to be blamed. Dear child, what art thou at? Here is a beloved wife, we will say, and for many years she has been the joy of her husband; he has done all for her comfort that she could desire; yes, and often, before she has expressed her desire, he has anticipated her wants, and made her life very happy in her confidence in him. And now is she going to doubt him? “No,” she says, “I would not do him that injustice; in all my life with him I have had no reason to distrust him, therefore I cannot want only throw away my confidence.” Well, child of God, there was never husband so tender to his spouse as thy God has been to thee. There was never one on earth, in any relationship, that has proved his faithfulness to another as thy Lord, thy Bridegroom, has proved his faithfulness to thee. If thou wilt never doubt till thou hast cause to doubt him, doubting will never trouble thy spirit. But thou hast doubted him, and the question comes cuttingly to thee, under such an aspect, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

Was there something about the experience of others that led you into doubt and fear? We will imagine that you met with some hoar-head, someone who had long been a pilgrim on the road to heaven, who took you on one side, and holding you as the ancient mariner detained the wedding guest, said to you, “It is a fiction that God is true, and you are a dupe if you trust him, for I have gone on a pilgrimage, and though it was fair at setting out, I found it foul along the road; and the promises I relied upon failed me. I came to them as wells in the desert, and found them dry. I looked up to them feeling that they were as sure as the sunshine, but they did not warm me. God had forgotten to be gracious, and in his anger he had shut up the bowels of his compassion.” Have you met with such a being? I have seen many of God’s people, my experience and observation have been rather wide; but I have never met with one who has come to me to make an exposé of his God, and say, “I have been deceived by him.”

We have seen some of them on their dying beds, and dying men let out tales sometimes, and tell truths unthought of before. They are not able to keep secrets then. I think I have known some of them, honest men, who at such times, close upon the borders of eternity, could not have lied; they were not accustomed to do so at other times, but then I am sure the truth would have been imperative upon them had it not been so before, and they have declared that not one good thing had failed of all that the Lord God had promised. Their declaration was, that they had found him faithful and true. In six troubles he had been with them, and in seven he had not forsaken them. Well, then, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?” If there has been no story told thee by another, and no information from those who have gone further on the road than thou hast, which should lead thee to distrust thy God, wherefore, oh! wherefore, without any reason or cause whatever, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

Did you doubt because you thought the covenant was an unworthy thing? You know it is “ordered in all things, and sure.” You have learnt from God’s Word that it stands fast like the great mountains, and abides like the eternal hills. You are not of those who think that God has entered into covenant with his dear Son, and yet will run back from it. You do not suspect that a covenant, which has been ratified as the covenant of grace has been, will ever come to an end. I am sure you do not. Wherefore then didst thou doubt, when there is a covenant, a divine covenant, ever standing?

Have you forgotten that the covenant was sealed with an oath? God swore, and because he could swear by no greater, he swore by himself. Will you look the fact in the face, that to doubt one promise in the covenant amounts to an accusation of perjury against the Most High? I tremble to think that such guilt may have lain upon my own soul, and desire to be cleansed from this high crime and misdemeanour of doubting my God. For who can imagine that God can lie when he swears, that after having lifted his hand to heaven, and sworn by himself, he can possibly draw back from a single word which that oath confirms?

Then, to make assurance doubly sure, there comes in, over and above the oath, the blood. The blood of victims always ratified the covenant, and the blood of Jesus Christ has ratified the covenant of grace. What! canst thou not trust the bleeding Son of God? His blood is on the promise, and can that promise be a slighted thing never to be redeemed by a God of grace? Has he given it, and will he make it to become a dead letter, and suffer his enemies to throw it in his teeth, and say, “He spake, but he did not fulfil; he promised, but he did not perform”? Rather let us say,-

“The gospel bears my spirit up,

A faithful and unchanging God

Lays the foundation for my hope

In oaths, in promises, and blood.”

“Wherefore didst thou doubt?” In the sight of the eternal covenant, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?” In the presence of the incarnate Son of God bleeding on the tree to make every promise sure, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

Let me ask thee another question. Dost thou remember that dear hour when Jesus first revealed himself to thee? He led thee into the wilderness, and there he spoke to thy heart, and in a moment, blotted out thy sins like a cloud. Then thy love to him was very warm; thou wentest after him into the wilderness, forsaking all for his dear sake. In the memory of that early love when he was near to thee, how canst thou doubt him? Since that time, he has helped thee in all difficulties, and borne thee up in all dangers, and has carried thee all the days of old, so wherefore didst thou doubt him? Thou hast laid thy head upon his bosom, and thou hast broken bread with him, and dipped in the same dish with him, and thou hast been as dear to him as the ewe lamb in Nathan’s parable was to its owner; thou hast been his darling. Thou hast had chaste fellowship with him; thou hast been admitted into the secret place of the Most High. There were times when thou couldst tell to others what a dear Saviour and a blessed Lord he has been to thee. Yea, there were “high days and holidays” to thee, when thy heart did dance at the sound of his name. Wherefore didst thou doubt him? What hast thou found out about him that has led thee into this state of heart? What has he done, or what hast thou heard of him that could have brought thee into such a condition, that thou shouldst doubt the Lord thy God?

Now I will suppose some of the answers that might be given to this question of Christ. I hear one say, “I doubted because I was in peculiar circumstances. I hardly think anybody ever was in a condition similar to mine. I felt as if I was made peculiarly the target for the arrows of the Most High. I felt that I was the man that above all others had seen affliction.” Well, but dost thou think that these things were peculiar to God? Mark, he had promised that he would deliver thee, and bring thee through; he had said, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” Did that promise say, “except in a peculiar case”? Is there a caveat put at the end of such gracious words? “There may, however, arise some conditions in which this promise will not stand,” thou sayest. Thou knowest it is not so. That promise, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,” has five negatives in it in the original text, sweeping away altogether all supposition that he could fail thee. How couldst thou say, “Mine was a peculiar case”? Peculiar as it is, Christ has suffered it;-

“In every pang that rends the heart,

The Man of sorrows had a part.”

Thou hast not gone where Jesus has not gone; nay, the way in which thou hast gone was first trodden by him. In all your afflictions he was afflicted, and therefore we say to you, “Wherefore do you doubt?” Your trial was peculiar to you, but not to him.

“Oh! but,” says another, “I doubted because the difficulty was a new one. It was so strong. I never before felt such perplexity; I never before experienced such a sensation of dismay!” But then your difficulty was not new to God. Had something happened to thee which God had not foreseen? Didst thou suppose thou wert in a condition in which God never intended thee to be, and did not foreknow that thou wouldst be? Hadst thou then outstripped his providence and outrun his love? Hast thou forgotten how the psalmist puts it? “If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.” Why, the Lord knew all about your case of old, and provided for it; then, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

“Oh! but,” says one, “my case was so terribly trying; it consisted of a series of troubles; it involved such dire calamities and dangers.” Still, what reason was there for doubt about that? Hast thou not heard that God’s way is in the whirlwind, that his path is in the sea, and that the clouds are the dust of his feet? If thy way is through the desert, did not he lead his people through a great wilderness, wherein there were fiery serpents and terrible drought? Did he not guard them in their desert march? Wert thou in such a perplexing condition that thou wert worse off than the children of Israel in the Red Sea or by the brooks of Arnon? Yet the Lord helped them, so why should he not help thee? Surely thy circumstances must have been a small matter with him who speaks and it is done, who wills and it is finished.

“Ah! but I labour under such a sense of personal weakness.” Just so, dear brother; but is that a novelty? Didst thou not know at the beginning that thou wert weakness itself, but that the Eternal God fainteth not, neither is weary? If thou hadst cause to suspect him of weakness, then there would be a reason for doubting him; but to find out that thou wast weak was stale news indeed, for thou art weak as water, and wast always so. Did the covenant run thus,-that thou wast to fight the battle alone at thine own charges, and carry thyself to heaven? Was it not stated in another place that God, Jehovah-Jireh, would preserve his people to the end? “Wherefore didst thou doubt?” For a man to say, “I doubted because I was weak,” is simply to give an unreasonable reason for perpetually doubting. If I doubt you, my brother, because of something in myself, that is an absurd thing to do. I can only reasonably doubt you because of some failure in you; if I doubt because of some weakness in myself, I put the saddle on the wrong horse. I may be led to doubt and despair about myself; that is right enough, it is clear and logical; but to doubt God because I am weak, is fantastic and ridiculous. Oh! be rid of that, I pray you.

“But my doubt,” says one, “arose from another reason. I lost so many friends one after another. They died or they deserted me.” Well, was thy faith dependent upon thy friends? If so, it is little marvel that thy faith failed thee. Hast thou learnt that wonderful sixty-second Psalm, which we call the “only” Psalm, because it has the word “only” ever so many times, beginning with it indeed, though our translation has it, “Truly my soul waiteth upon God”? You know how David there says, “My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.” If you built your hope on God alone, and he was the one pillar of your confidence, what if God’s providence knocked away all those useless buttresses of your own, it could make no difference to the real strength of your faith. If a man trusts in God and his friends, he hath no secure trust; he is like one that has one foot upon the rock and another on the quicksand. Betwixt two stools, we know what comes, even though the two stools be good ones. To trust in God and to trust in friends is poor trusting. O beloved, if our faith was what it should be, it would lean upon the Lord alone, so that if we had none left to comfort us, we should still be able to say, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” There is no reason to doubt God because friends fail us.

“Still I must say,” adds another, “that I was so tossed to and fro that I could not see my way.” Oh! that was the reason, was it? I heard it said, the other day, when I wanted to know a man’s character, and asked whether I could trust him, “Yes, you can trust him as far as you can see him,” and I knew what was meant by that; but is that what you mean about your God, that you can trust him only as far as you can see him? Oh, shame! Shame! Shame! And yet I am afraid that the rebuke might come home to many of us. We want to see how he will deliver us before we rely upon God. Now, of all the questions that ought to be banished from the lips of a reasonable man, that should be silenced soonest, when we have to deal with an almighty God. What have I to do with how God will deliver? He will do it somehow, and that is enough for me. He will do it in the best manner; he will do it in the wisest manner; he will do it in the manner that will bring the most glory to his name, and, in the end, most profit to his people. Therefore, let us be content to know that it will be so, and not ask, “How?” and begin to doubt the Eternal God, “Wherefore didst thou doubt?”

I will put it in this way, beloved. Did any of you ever get any good through doubting? Did you ever prosper because of it? Did doubt ever calm a sorrow? Did it ever allay a fear? Did that handkerchief ever wipe tears from your eyes? Did you ever find your distrust a staff to lean upon? Did your doubts improve your circumstances? When you have had suspicions of your God, have they ever filled your purse or put bread upon your table? If the rain was about to spoil your crops, did your doubts and fears bring fine weather? If the skies were unpropitious, and you needed rain, did your distrust ever make the clouds burst with showers? Oh! you cannot say that it was ever so.

I will put it on the other hand, Did your doubts ever glorify God? Did you ever influence a sinner in the right way by distrusting God? Did you ever bring to Jesus Christ the slightest honour by pouring suspicion on his love? Has it not been all the other way? Do you not think that you often grieve the Holy Spirit by doubting? Do you not think it very likely that Christ has taken it hard that his beloved should doubt him? I do not know anything that would cut me to the quick more than to be suspected and not believed by those I love. We may go outside into the market, and make a statement; and if strangers are suspicious, we are not surprised; but within the boundary of our own house, if our child or our wife should not be able to trust us, there would be an end to all the joys of the family.

Oh! how Christ’s heart must be pierced when those he died for doubt him; when those he has helped and succoured, blessed and caressed, made to sit under his shadow, and eat of his fruit, yet, in the day of trial, look somewhere else for help, run to broken cisterns that hold no water, and will not come to him the fountain of living waters! This is what in the Old Testament he calls playing the harlot; and though the term be harsh, yet, since it is so constantly used in Scripture, I cannot help referring to it. He calls this sin a want of spiritual chastity to himself. It is a departure into a mental adultery, when the soul goes gadding abroad to this and that person or thing for comfort, instead of keeping to her Lord. Drink waters out of thine own cistern, and let thy soul be always ravished with his love; let him be as the loving hind and as the pleasant roe to thee; but go not abroad after other lovers, for if thou do so, they will be a mockery to thee, and drive thee back one day with bitter taunts. Thou wilt be compelled at length to say, “I will go and return unto my first Husband, for then it was better with me than now.” Beloved, Jesus deserves our trust, let us give it to him.

Our doubts and fears have often prevented him showing us more of himself. He has said, “I have told you of these earthly things that are in my kingdom, and you believe me not; how shall you believe if I tell you of heavenly things?” Our dear Lord has many things to say unto us, but we cannot bear them yet because we are so unbelieving. But if we had more faith, and rested like little children upon him, he would tell us more, and show us more. We might have been a long way further on the road if we had not been hindered by unbelief. Of how many places might it not be said, “He could not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief”? Unbelief seems to hamper omnipotence, to tie the hands of the Almighty. We do not know what losers we have been by our unbelief. God grant, then, that as we turn this question over, it may breed repentance in our spirits; and as we find how impossible it is to answer it, we may go and say, “Lord, we have no excuse to make; only give us more of thy Spirit; we believe; help thou our unbelief.”

Now a few minutes may be spent in speaking, secondly, to those who desire to believe in Jesus, but feel that they cannot. To such, as I have already said, the question must be slightly altered. I will ask each one of them, “Wherefore dost thou doubt?”

There once came into this place a young man, who is now a minister of the gospel, and he has told us how he became converted to God. He sat over in the gallery yonder, in great distress of mind, because he could not feel his sins enough. On that particular occasion I said, “There is over in the gallery yonder a young man who feels that he is too great a sinner to be saved, therefore he does not believe in Jesus.” “Ah!” my friend said, “I thought to myself, ‘I wish I was like that young man, I should like to feel the greatness of my sin.’ ” But then in my sermon I went on to say, “There is another young man in that gallery who would give his eyes to feel as the other one feels. They are a pair of fools,” I said; “the one for believing that he is too great at sinner for an omnipotent Saviour to forgive, and the other for imagining that Christ wants his strength of feeling to fit him for salvation, as if Jesus could not save him just as he is.”

If one is saying, “I cannot be saved because of the greatness of my sins,” thou givest God the lie in the same manner, for Jesus said, “All manner of sin and of blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men;” and there is that grand text, “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” “He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him,” and he is able to save them now. There is no reason for your doubting, for every sin that it is possible for you to commit it is possible for Christ to forgive.

But the other says, “My trouble is, not that I feel I am a great sinner, but that I do not feel that I am a great sinner.” The notion has been entertained by some that there is a certain amount of feeling required before we are fit for Christ, and a good deal of preaching has gone to show that the sinner is to fit himself for Christ. I have read descriptions of the sinner’s fitness that really were true enough about those who were saved, but were most discouraging and ungospel-like if they had reference to those who were not saved. Jesus Christ has come to seek and to save that which was lost. If you are lost, he has come to save you. It is not merely those who feel that they are lost, there are special promises for them; but those who are so lost that they do not even feel it. He even comes to give a sense of being lost to those who have no sense of it; and mark you, if Jesus waited till sinners of themselves felt their need of him, he would never save one. It is as much his work to make us feel our need as it is to supply our need, and Hart has well put it,-

“True belief and true repentance

Every grace that brings us nigh,

Without money,

Come to Jesus Christ, and buy.”

If you cannot come with a broken heart, come for a broken heart. If you are all bad, and there is no good about you, not even a good feeling, yet still the gospel says to you, and to every creature under heaven, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” “Still I must feel,” says one. Yes, you will feel, and feel as you never felt before, if you listen to this message. “Incline your ear, and come unto me. Hear, and your soul shall live.” Believe in the crucified Saviour. Trust yourself with him, for there is no salvation in any other. Salvation is not in your feelings, but in his work; not in looking at the bites of the serpent, but in looking at the brazen serpent on the pole; not in studying thy leprosy, but in looking to the great High Priest, who puts his hand on thee, and says, “I will, be thou clean;” not in poring over thy blindness, but in lifting up thy face to him who puts his finger on thy sightless eyeballs, and says, “See, for I have given thee sight;” not in trying to untwist the grave-clothes, but in obeying that glorious voice that says, “Lazarus, come forth,” even to one who has lain three days in his grave already. It is not thou that art to do the saving, it is Christ that is the Saviour.

If you have any reason for doubting Christ, then doubt him. But how can you doubt him? Is he not able to save? He is the Son of God. Believest thou this? Did he not die, “the Just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God”? Dost thou doubt the efficacy of his death? Canst thou stand at the foot of the cross, and hear him cry, “It is finished,” and then say, “There is not enough for me”? Dost thou think that to be incomplete which he says is finished? And when he hath entered into his Father’s glory, and sat down because he hath for ever completed the work of atonement, wouldst thou rouse him up? Wouldst thou take him away from his rest, and say, “Thou hast not finished the work, it is still incomplete”? Oh! say not so; if thou shouldst entertain such a thought, thy unbelief would be reckless indeed.

To me, (I speak it as in the Lord’s sight,) it seems this day as if I must trust Jesus, and as if, racking my invention and troubling my brain, I cannot think of a reason for doubting the Son of God. Yet was I once as plentiful in doubts and fears as thou art, poor sinner. I quibbled with him about this and I quibbled with him about that, and all the answer he gave me, was, to show me himself, and to say, “Look unto me, and be ye saved all the ends of the earth.” I wanted some ceremony, or some dream, or some strange feeling, or some revelation;-I know not what I wanted; but this I know, that I stood quibbling and quibbling still, till I doubt not I should have quibbled myself into hell if at last I had not felt too wretched to continue in such a miserable business, and I just allowed myself to faint away into the arms of the Saviour, and to wake up saved. I gave up my quibbles, I gave up my good works, such as they were, (wretched things!) I gave up reliance upon feelings and reliance on prayer, and came to rely only upon him. And now, at this day, if he cannot save a poor sinner who trusts in him alone, I shall be damned; and if there is anything wanted to save a soul except the precious blood and perfect righteousness of Jesus, I must be lost. Sinner, you have as much to trust in as I have, for I have not anything. I have not the weight of a grain of dust of merit of my own; I have not a rag, I have not a thread left of anything I can rely upon, except that dear Lord whom God has set forth to be “the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” Wherefore then dost thou doubt?

Are God’s words after all false? Does he say, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price;” and does he mean to shut the door in your face when you do come? Does he say, “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely,” and when you come, will he say to you, “I refuse you; I did not mean you”? Dost thou think that God’s invitations are, after all, a hideous mockery at the woes of men? It cannot be! When he says, by the mouth of his servants, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved,” is it true or not? When he says, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved,” is it true or not? When he says, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon,” is it true or not? If it be true, wherefore dost thou doubt? Wilt thou make God a liar? Thou wilt do so if thou dost not trust his promise.

Once more, O sinner, to what end and purpose did Jesus come into the world to bleed and die, if after all there is no forgiveness for sinners, and if those that seek his face will be rejected? When men make a mock of others, they do not often do it at vast expense. Dost thou think God has hung his Son upon the tree for mockery? That he has pierced Him with death-smarts, and all to laugh at sinners? “Ah! but I am such a great sinner.” And dost thou think that Christ came into the world to be a little Saviour to little sinners? Is he a physician that can only heal finger-cuts? Dost thou think that? He is the Son of God, and sin seems to vanish in his august presence. When I look at the needs of this city of London, and see how many people there are, I am ready to ask, “How shall they all be fed? Where shall there be flocks and herds to supply them?” But if I go to the great markets in the early morning, and see the meat and other food there, I change my mind, and enquire, “Wherever can there be people enough to eat all this provision?” So, when I look at a sinner’s sin, I say, “How can this ever be washed away?” But when I look at the Saviour’s blood, I seem to say, “Sin is readily enough put away in such a fountain as this!” I change my tone; and whereas I thought sin too great to be atoned for, I come to think the atonement almost too great for human sin, if such might be. I cannot conceive it possible that God will find any difficulty in forgiving sin after such an atonement has been made. “Wherefore dost thou doubt?”

Now I will give you two great reasons for doubting, and then I have done.

The first time I can recommend any sinner to doubt the Saviour is when he finds a fellow-sinner who has been to Jesus, and has rested in him, and yet has perished. Now, set you out upon this journey. Ask all God’s people one by one, and see if God has rejected them. Look at those you knew, who were like yourself, perhaps they were drunkards, perhaps they were swearers. Now that they have sought the Lord, see whether he has refused them. When you find that he has rejected one, then you will have reason to think that he will reject you. Then you may reasonably doubt.

The other reason is this. Try him yourself, and if he rejects you, then you shall have cause for doubting. Go and throw yourself at his door of mercy with this upon your heart, “I will perish here if I must perish.” Go to his cross, and look up, and say, “Saviour, Redeemer, Son of God, bleeding and dying, a guilty soul here comes and trusts itself with thee.” See if he will spurn you! See if you are not saved! I challenge the whole earth, I challenge all hell to find a single soul of woman born that ever came and humbly rested on the blood and righteousness of Christ, and yet was lost. Such a thing has never been, and never shall be while the earth abideth.

O poor soul, then come away,-come away to the Saviour! I will go with you, for I love to go again and again and again, and be a beggar again at my Lord’s door. Come, let us say together, “Jesus, we have guilt; we have no merit; we have no claim upon thee; we deserve to be cast into the lowest hell; but, by thy blood, by thy righteousness, have mercy upon us, and save us now. We desire to give up all our sins, to leave them behind us, and to be obedient to all thy bidding. Save us, dear Saviour, save us. Purge us with hyssop, and we shall be clean; wash us, and we shall be whiter than snow.” If that prayer comes from any heart here, the Lord will answer it indeed. May he bless you! Amen.