To give them life again.”

’Twas all of love and of grace!

The third question is, “What did he give?” “Who gave himself for us,” and here lies the glory of the text, that he gave not merely the crowns and royalties of heaven, though it was much to leave these, to come and don the humble garb of a carpenter’s son; not the songs of seraphs, not the shouts of cherubim: ’twas something to leave them to come and dwell amongst the groans and tears of this poor fallen world; not the grandeur of his Father’s court, though it was much to leave that to come and live with wild beasts, and men more wild than they, to fast his forty days, and then to die in ignomy and shame upon the tree. No; there is little said about all this. He gave all this, it is true, but he gave himself. Mark, brethren, what a richness there is here! It is not that he gave his righteousness, though that has become our dress. It is not even that he gave his blood, though that is the fount in which we wash. It is that he gave himself-his Godhead and manhood both combined. All that that word “Christ” means he gave to us and for us. He gave himself. Oh! that we could dive and plunge into this unfathomed sea-himself! Omnipotence, Omniscience, Infinity-himself. He gave himself-purity, love, kindness, meekness, gentleness-that wonderful compound of all perfections, to make up one perfection-himself. You do not come to Christ’s house and say, “He gives me this house, his church, to dwell in.” You do not come to his table and merely say, “He gives me this table to feast at,” but you go farther, and you take him by faith into your arms, and you say, “Who loved me, and gave himself for me.” Oh! that you could get hold of that sweet word-himself! It is the love of a husband to his wife, who not only gives her all that she can wish, daily food and raiment, and all the comforts that can nourish and cherish her, and make her life glad, but who gives himself to her. So does Jesus. The body and soul of Jesus, the deity of Jesus, and all that that means, he has been pleased to give to and for his people. “Who gave himself for us.”

There is another question which we shall ask the text, and that is, “For whom did Christ give himself?” Well, the text says, “For us.” There be those who say that Christ has thus given himself for every man now living, or that ever did or shall live. We are not able to subscribe to the statement, though there is a truth in it, that in a certain sense he is “the Saviour of all men,” but then it is added, “Specially of them that believe.” At any rate, dear hearer, let me tell thee one thing that is certain. Whether atonement may be said to be particular or general, there are none who partake in its real efficacy but certain characters, and those characters are known by certain infallible signs. You must not say that he gave himself for you unless these signs are manifest in you, and the first sign is that of simple faith in the Lord Jesus. If thou believest in him, that shall be a proof to thee that he gave himself for thee. See, if he gave himself for all men alike, then he did equally for Judas and for Peter. Care you for such love as that? He died equally for those who were then in hell as for those who were then in heaven. Care you for such a doctrine as that? For my part, I desire to have a personal, peculiar, and special interest in the precious blood of Jesus; such an interest in it as shall lead me to his right hand, and enable me to say, “He hath washed me from my sins, in his blood.” Now I think we have no right to conclude that we shall have any benefit from the death of Christ unless we trust him, and if we do trust him, that trust will produce the following things:-“Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity”-we shall hate sin; we shall fight against it; we shall be delivered from it-“and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” I have no right, therefore, to conclude that I shall be a partaker of the precious blood of Jesus unless I become in my life “zealous of good works.” My good works cannot save me, cannot even help to save me; but they are evidences of my being saved, and if I am not zealous for good works, I lack the evidence of salvation, and I have no right whatever to conclude that I shall receive one jot of benefit from Christ’s sufferings upon the tree. Oh! my dear hearer, I would to God that thou couldest trust the Man, the God, who died on Calvary! I would that thou couldest trust him so that thou couldest say, “He will save me; he has saved me.” The gratitude which you would feel towards him would inspire you with an invincible hatred against sin. You would begin to fight against every evil way; you would conform yourselves, by his grace, to his law and his Word, and you would become a new creature in him! May God grant that you may yet be able to say, “Who gave himself for me”! I have asked the text enough questions, and there I leave them. For a few minutes only I am now going to use the text another way, namely:-

There was a day before all days when there was no day but the Ancient of Days; a time when there was no time, but when Eternity was all. Then God, in the eternal purpose, decreed to save his people. If we may speak so of things too mysterious for us to know them, and which we can only set forth after the manner of men, God had determined that his people should be saved, but he foresaw that they would sin. It was necessary, therefore, that the penalty due to their sins should be borne by someone. They could not be saved except a substitute were found who would bear the penalty of sin in their place and stead. Where was such a substitute to be found? No angel offered. There was no angel, for God dwelt alone, and even if there had then been angels, they could never have dared to offer to sustain the fearful weight of human guilt. But in that solemn council-chamber, when it was deliberated who should enter into bonds of suretyship to pay all the debts of the people of God, Christ came and gave himself a bondsman and a surety for all that was due from them, or would be due from them, to the judgment-seat of God. In that day, then, he “gave himself for us.”

But Time began, and this round world had made, in the mind of God, a few revolutions. Men said the world was getting old, but to God it was but an infant. But the fulness of time was come, and suddenly, amidst the darkness of the night, there was heard sweeter singing than ere had come from mortal lips, “Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace; good will to men!” What lit up the sky with unwonted splendour, and what had filled the air with chorales at the dead of night? See the Babe upon its mother’s breast, there in Bethlehem’s manger! “He gave himself for us.” That same one who had given himself a surety has come down to earth to be a man, and to give himself for us. See him! For thirty years he toils on, amidst the drudgery of the carpenter’s shop! What is he doing? The law needed to be fulfilled, and he “gave himself for us,” and fulfilled the law. But now the time comes when he is thirty-two or thirty-three years of age, and the law demands that the penalty shall be paid. Do you see him going to meet Judas in the garden, with confident, but solemn step? He “gave himself for us.” He could with a word have driven those soldiers into hell, but they bind him-he “gave himself for us.” They take him before Pilate, and Herod, and Caiaphas, and they mock at him, and jeer him, and pluck his cheeks, and flagellate his shoulders! How is it that he will smart at this rate? How is it that he bears so passively all the insults and indignities which they heap upon him? He gave himself for us. Our sins demanded smart; he bared his back and took the smart; he gave himself for us. But do you see that dreadful procession going through the streets of Jerusalem, along the rough pavement of the Via Dolorosa? Do you see the weeping women as they mourn because of him? How is it that he is willing to be led a captive up to the hill of Calvary? Alas! they throw him on the ground! They drive accursed iron through his hands and feet. They hoist him into the air! They dash the cross into its appointed place, and there he hangs, a naked spectacle of scorn and shame, derided of men, and mourned by angels. How is it that the Lord of glory, who made all worlds, and hung out the stars like lamps, should now be bleeding and dying there? He gave himself for us. Can you see the streaming fountains of the four wounds in his hands and feet? Can you trace his agony as it carves lines upon his brow and all down his emaciated frame? No you cannot see the griefs of his soul. No spirit can behold them. They were too terrible for you to know them. It seemed as though all hell were emptied into the bosom of the Son of God, and as though all the miseries of all the ages were made to meet upon him, till he bore:-

“All that incarnate God could bear,

With strength enough, but none to spare.”

Now why is all this but that he gave himself for us till his head hung down in death, and his arms, in chill, cold death, hung down by his side, and they buried the lifeless Victor in the tomb of Joseph of Arimethea? He gave himself for us!

What more now remaineth? He lives again; on the third day he cometh from the tomb, and even then he still gave himself for us! Oh! yes, beloved, he has gone up on high, but he still gives himself for us, for up there he is constantly engaged in pleading the sinner’s cause. Up yonder, amidst the glories of heaven, he has not forgotten us poor sinners who are here below, but he spreads his hands, and pleads before his Father’s throne, and wins for us unnumbered blessings, for he gave himself for us.

And I have been thinking whether I might not use the text in another way. Christ’s servants wanted a subject upon which to preach, and so he “gave himself for us,” to be the constant topic of our ministry. Christ’s servants wanted a sweet companion to be with them in their troubles, and he gave himself for us. Christ’s people want comfort; they want spiritual food and drink, and so he gave himself for us-his flesh to be our meat, and his blood to be our spiritual drink. And we expect soon to go home to the land of the hereafter, to the realms of the blessed; and what is to be our heaven? Why, our heaven will be Christ himself, for he gave himself for us. Oh! he is all that we want, all that we wish for! We cannot desire anything greater and better than to be with Christ, and to have Christ, to feed upon Christ, to lie in Christ’s bosom, to know the kisses of his mouth, to look at the gleamings of his loving eyes, to hear his loving words, to feel him press us to his heart, and tell us that he has loved us from before the foundation of the world, and given himself for us.

I think we have put the text now into a setting of certain facts; do not forget them, but let them be your joy! And now the last thing we have to do is to:-

Turn the text to practical account by drawing from it a few inferences.

The first inference I draw is this-that he who gave himself for his people will not deny them anything. This is a sweet encouragement to you who practise the art of prayer. You know how Paul puts it, “He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not, with him, also freely give us all things?” Christ is all. If Christ gives himself to you, he will give you your bread and your water, and he will give you a house to dwell in. If he gives you himself, he will not let you starve on the road to heaven. Jesus Christ does not give us himself and then deny us common things. Oh! child of God, go boldly to the throne of grace! Thou hast got the major; thou shalt certainly have the minor; thou hast the greater, thou canst not be denied the less.

Now I draw another inference, namely, that if Christ has already given himself in so painful a way as I have described, since there is no need that he should suffer any more, we must believe that he is willing to give himself now unto the hearts of poor sinners. Beloved, for Christ to come to Bethlehem is a greater stoop than for him to come into your heart. Had Christ to die upon Calvary? That is all done, and he need not die again. Do you think that he who is willing to die is unwilling to apply the results of his passion? If a man leaps into the water to bring out a drowning child, after he has brought the child alive on shore, if he happens to have a piece of bread in his pocket, and the child needs it, do you think that he who rescued the child’s life will deny that child so small a thing as a piece of bread? And come, dost thou think that Christ died on Calvary, and yet will not come into thy heart if thou seekest him? Dost thou believe that he who died for sinners will ever reject the prayer of a sinner? If thou believest that thou thinkest hardly of him, for his heart is very tender. He feels even a cry. You know how it is with your children; if they cry through pain, why, you would give anything for someone to come and heal them; and if you cry because your sin is painful, the great Physician will come and heal you. Ah! Jesus Christ is much more easily moved by our cries and tears than we are by the cries of our fellow-creatures. Come, poor sinner, come and put thy trust in my Master! Thou canst not think him hard-hearted. If he were, why did he die? Dost thou think him unkind? Then why did he bleed? Thou art inclined to think so hardly of him! Thou art making great outs at his heart when thou thinkest him to be untender and ungenerous. “As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he would turn unto me and live.” This is the voice of the God whom you look upon as so sternly just! Did Jesus Christ, the tender one, speak in even more plaintive tones, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest”? You working men, you labouring men, Christ bids you come to him-“all ye that labour.” And you who are unhappy, you who know you have done wrong, and cannot sleep at nights because of it; you who are troubled about sin, and would fain go and hide your heads, and get:-

“Anywhere, anywhere out of the world,”

-your Father says to you one and all, “Run not from me, but come to me, my child!” Jesus, who died, says, “Flee not from me, but come to me, for I will accept you; I will receive you; I cast out none that come unto me.” Sinner, Jesus never did reject a coming soul yet, and he never will. Oh! try him! Try him! Now come, with thy sins about thee just as thou art, to the bleeding, dying Saviour, and he will say to thee, “I have blotted out thy sins; go and sin no more; I have forgiven thee.” May God grant thee grace to put thy trust in him “who gave himself for us”!

There are many other inferences which I might draw if I had time, but if this last one we have drawn be so applied to your hearts as to be carried out, it will be enough. Now do not you go and try to do good works in order to merit heaven. Do not go and try to pray yourselves into heaven by the efficacy of praying. Remember, he “gave himself for us.” The old proverb is that “there is nothing freer than a gift,” and surely this gift of God, this eternal life, must be free, and we must have it freely, or not at all. I sometimes see put up at some of our doctors that they receive “gratis patients.” That is the sort of patients my Master receives. He receives none but those who come gratis. He never did receive anything yet, and he never will, except your love and your thanks after he has saved you. But you must come to him empty-handed; come just as you are, and he will receive you now, and you shall live to sing to the praise and the glory of his grace who has accepted you in the Beloved, and “who gave himself for us.” God help you to do it. Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

PSALM 45:1-14

It is a Psalm of instruction, and yet it is a song of love, for the science of love to Christ is the most excellent of all the sciences. To know Christ is to love him, and we are best instructed who love him most, and the Psalm is most of all a Maschil, a Psalm of instruction, when we are taught to love. Hence the Psalm is a song of love.

1. My heart is inditing a good matter:

A good instrument-the heart refined and sanctified-a good subject, for, says he:-

1. I speak of the things which I have made touching the king:

Oh! it is a royal subject concerning King Jesus. The original has it, “My heart boileth up with a good matter”-bubbleth up-as if each verse of this Psalm were, so to speak, the bubling up of a boiling heart that is heated with the love of Christ; and all is concerning him-concerning him the king. “I speak of the things which I have made.” That is experience-things made my own; and there is no matter like that. Theoretical theology is of little value. We must have it in the heart, and have it in our own.

1. My tongue is the pen of a ready writer.

As though it were moved by another hand, as a pen might be. So the Psalmist feels as if his tongue were under divine influence, and he were about to utter things his own, yet not his own-things which he has made, yet which the Spirit indicts.

2. Thou art fairer than the children of men:

And then he sees him. He does see him by faith; and he speaks, not so much about him, as to him. “Thou art fairer than the children of men.” Oh! it is sweet meditating upon Christ, when Christ himself is present. It is blessed work to speak about Christ when you can speak to Christ at the same time. Thou art fairer than the children of men-the very fairest of them. Whatever beauty, excellence, and worth there may be about mankind, thou hast all, and more than all that they possess.

2. Grace is poured into thy lips:

It comes, therefore, pouring from them. It comes welling up from thy mouth. Every word that thou speakest is full of grace and truth.

2. Therefore God hath blessed thee for ever.

The Mediator, the God-man, Christ Jesus, is blessed of God. The blessing of the Most High rests upon him, because he is so infinitely lovely. His words are unspeakably gracious; and if God blesses him, shall not we bless him? If God himself praises him, shall not we praise him? Oh! let us not be silent, but where God leads the way, let us joyfully follow.

3. Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty.

He loves the fighting Christ-Christ with the sword on his thigh. Oh! but it is sweet to see the Prince of peace-to know that he comes to our heart bearing unspeakably precious blessings; but yet the terrible side of Christ is precious to his saints. They ask him to gird his sword upon his thigh. An armed Christ can only be armed for the defence of his people, and for the deliverance of them from captivity. Therefore, O thou loveliest of the lovely, be the mightiest of the mighty too.

4. And in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.

There are three things that are much put to it in this world, and have a hard time of it; truth, which is beset with error, like the hunted hind pursued by dogs. O God, defend thy truth! O Christ of God, lay upon thy sword to smite down error! The next thing is meekness. A gentle spirit has a hard time of it amongst the hard-hearted sons of men. They do not understand meekness. They call the meek man a milksop. They make mirth out of his gentleness. O sword of the Lord, defend the meek ones of the earth! And there is a third thing that has a hard time of it, and that is righteousness amongst a godless generation, that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter-darkness for light, and light for darkness. Righteousness has to run the gauntlet. But, O thou who art truth, and meekness, and righteousness embodied, come forth with thy sharp sword, and fight on the behalf of these things! We do not ask the Lord to come into the world for the sake of pomp, and pride, and power. We only want his battles to be battles of love. We only ask him to extend the kingdom of truth, and meekness, and righteousness.

5. Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies: whereby the people fall under thee.

Christ has far-reaching power. He can not only smite with the sword, but he has skill with the bow, and he can dart an arrow to those that are far off, that they may feel his power. Oh! that he would do so now, that those who are leagues away from him may, to their own surprise, find a shaft come right into their heart, that they may fall under the power of Christ, and cry out to him to come and heal the wound that his own arrow has made. He will do it, for it is written, “I wound, and I heal”; and wherever Christ wounds in mercy, he heals in mercy too.

6. Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.

Notice that the more you look at Christ the more there is to see. Here the songster first said, “Thou art fairer than the children of men”; and now he cries, “Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever.” That man has not seen much of Christ who has not perceived him to be God-God on the throne, God on an everlasting throne. Oh! if any of you have not yet believed in Christ as God, I pray you may do so; for you do not know the Christ of the Scriptures at all, however much you may value his moral character as supreme in wisdom, unless you can say, “My Lord and My God,” as Thomas did when he saw his wounds. “Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever. The sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.” There is the joy of it! Christ has absolute sovereignty, but that absolute sovereignty never goes beyond the realm of right. “The sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.”

7. Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness; therefore God thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.

Christ is no neutral. He loves righteousness, and hates wickedness. He is like fire in all that he does. There is about him a certain strength of heart, both to love and to hate; and it is for this reason that God loves him, for God hates lukewarmness. “So then, because thou art neither cold nor hot,” says he, “I will spue thee out of my mouth.” But Christ is never neutral about these matters. He loves righteousness. He hates wickedness. “Therefore, God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.” And if you want to have the oil of gladness, dear friends, you must not be neutral. You that live betwixt and between-that are neither very good nor very bad-that are not decided worldlings, nor yet decided Christians, you never have any joy at all. You see, you do not go enough into the world to get its joy, bad and base as it is; and you do not go enough into Christ’s kingdom to get its joy; so you get no comfort either way. Oh! to be cast into the kingdom altogether-thrown into it as a man into the deep sea, and swallowed up in it! In its lowest depths are the sweetest waters.

8. All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad

The very clothes of Christ are precious to believers. “Unto you that believe he is preciousness.” But even his very garments are savoured with it, whether he puts on his priestly robes, or his royal garniture, or his prophetic mantle. Each one of these has in it a sweet savour of all manner of choice perfumes, myrrh, and aloes, and cassia. Bitter sweets all of them. Oh! in Christ there is a wonderful bitter sweetness-the pangs of death that breed our life; the pangs of sorrow that bring us joy: his downcasting for our uplifting.

9. Kings’ daughters were among thy honourable women: upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.

No one is so honoured as the one who waits upon the Saviour. They are honourable women that minister to him of their substance, that are often found in his temple, like Anna of old. These are kings’ daughters, every one of them. And, as for his Church as a whole, she is a queen. She takes no low mean rank, and her apparel is like her dignity. She is clothed in the gold of Ophir-the best of metals, and the best kind of that metal-the gold of Ophir; and “strangely, my soul, art thou arrayed by the great Sacred Three.” All manner of royal apparel is put upon the Church of God, and upon every member of it.

10. Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house;

We cannot know Christ thoroughly unless we leave off knowing the world. There must be a forgetting as well as a remembering. We are to forget our father’s house-come right out from it. If Christ is to love his Church, it must be a nonconforming church in the deepest sense of that word. I mean not conformed to this world, but transformed by the renewing of its mind. Not only are we not to love the world, but we are not to think of it. “Forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house.”

11. So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty:

We were thinking of his beauty. But see: when once we see the beauty of Christ, Christ puts a beauty upon us; and when we learn the beauties of Christ, we soon see beauties in his Church. I find that those who rail at the Church of God have not any very high esteem of the Church’s Head; but when he is beloved, his people are beloved for his sake. Why, there is an old proverb that says, “Love me, love my dog.” Much more may we say, “Love Christ, love his Church.”

11. For he is thy Lord; and worship thou him.

This is the great business of the Church-to carry on the worship of her Lord; and I believe that, met together as we are to-night, we are met for the noblest purpose under heaven. When the people of God come together for worship, they are doing that which angels do before the throne-an occupation from which they never cease day or night!

12. And the daughter of Tyre shall be there with a gift;

Well, but she is a heathen; she is a trafficker. What does she know about the king of Israel? Ah! but when Israel owns her king-when the Church of Christ delights in Christ, and dotes upon him, she shall have converts in plenty, from the least likely places.

12. Even the rich among the people shall intreat thy favour.

They are generally taken up with other things, but then they shall know, when once the Church is right with her King.

13. The king’s daughter is all glorious within: her clothing is of wrought gold.

Who has wrought it but her King, whose own right hand has hammered out the precious fabric, and then has taken every golden thread, and, with his own bleeding hand, has wrought it into a sacred vesture that shall outlast the stars. “Her clothing is of wrought gold.”

14. She shall be brought unto the king in raiment of needlework: the virgins her companions that follow her shall be brought unto thee.

Happy are those pure virgin spirits that hardly dare think themselves fit to be called a part of the bride, but yet follow her and keep close to her. They are really a part of her, and they “shall be brought unto thee.”