THE SIN OF UNBELIEF

A SERMON DELIVERED ON SABBATH MORNING, JANUARY 14, 1855,

BY THE REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT NEW PARK STREET CHAPEL, SOUTHWARK.

"And that officer answered the man of God and said, Now, behold, if the Lord should make windows in Heaven might such a thing be? And he said, Behold, you shall see it with your eyes but shall not eat thereof." 2 Kings 7:19.

ONE wise man may deliver a whole city. One good man may be the means of safety to a thousand others. The holy ones are "the salt of the earth," the means of the preservation of the wicked. Without the godly as a buffer, the race would be utterly destroyed. In the city of Samaria there was one righteous man-Elisha, the servant of the Lord. Piety was altogether extinct in the court. The king was a sinner of the blackest dye, his iniquity was glaring and infamous. Jehoram walked in the ways of his father, Ahab, and made unto himself false gods. The people of Samaria were fallen like their monarch-they had gone astray from Jehovah. They had forsaken the God of Israel-they remembered not the watchword of Jacob, "The Lord your God is one God." And in wicked idolatry they bowed before the idols of the Heathens. Therefore the Lord of Hosts suffered their enemies to oppress them until the curse of Ebal was fulfilled in the streets of Samaria, for "the tender and delicate woman who would not adventure to set the sole of her foot upon the ground for delicateness," had an evil eye to her own children and devoured her offspring by reason of fierce hunger (Deut 28:56-58). In this awful extremity the one holy man was the medium of salvation. The one grain of salt preserved the entire city-the one warrior for God was the means of the deliverance of the whole beleaguered multitude. For Elisha's sake, the Lord sent the promise that the next day food which could not be obtained at any price, should be had at the cheapest possible rate-at the very gates of Samaria. We may picture the joy of the multitude when first the Seer uttered this prediction. They knew him to be a prophet of the Lord. He had divine credentials. All his past prophecies had been fulfilled. They knew that he was a man sent of God and uttering Jehovah's message. Surely the monarch's eyes would glisten with delight and the emaciated multitude would leap for joy at the prospects of so speedy a release from famine. "Tomorrow," would they shout, "tomorrow our hunger shall be over and we shall feast to the full."

However, the officer on whom the king leaned expressed his disbelief. We hear not that any of the common people, the plebeians, ever did so. But an aristocrat did it. Strange it is that God has seldom chosen the great men of this world. High places and faith in Christ do seldom agree. This great man said, "Impossible!" And, with an insult to the prophet, he added, "If the Lord should make windows in Heaven, might such a thing be"? His sin lay in the fact that after repeated proofs of Elisha's ministry, he yet disbelieved the assurances uttered by the prophet on God's behalf. He had, doubtless seen the marvelous defeat of Moab-he had been startled at tidings of the resurrection of the Shunamite's son. He knew that Elisha had revealed Benhadad's secrets and smitten his marauding hosts with blindness. He had seen the bands of Syria decoyed into the heart of Samaria. And he probably knew the story of the widow, whose oil filled all the vessels and redeemed her son. Of all events, the cure of Naaman was common conversation at court. And yet, in the face of all this accumulated evidence, in the teeth of all these credentials of the prophet's mission, he yet doubted and insultingly told him that Heaven must become an open casement before the promise could be performed. Whereupon God pronounced his doom by the mouth of the man who had just now proclaimed the promise-"you shall see it with your eyes but shall not eat there-of." And Providence-which always fulfils prophecy-just as the paper takes the stamp of the type- destroyed the man. Trod down in the streets of Samaria, he perished at its gates beholding the plenty, but tasting not of it! Perhaps his carriage was haughty and insulting to the people. Or he tried to restrain their eager rush. Or, perhaps, as we would say, it might have been by mere "accident" that he was crushed to death. But he saw the prophecy fulfilled and never lived to enjoy it. In his case, seeing was believing, but it was not enjoying.

I shall this morning invite your attention to two things-the man's sin and his punishment. Perhaps I shall say but little of this man, since I have detailed the circumstances, but I shall discourse upon the sin of unbelief and the punishment thereof.

I. And first, the SIN. His sin was unbelief . He doubted the promise of God. In this particular case, unbelief took the form of a doubt of the divine veracity, or a mistrust of God's power. Either he doubted whether God really meant what He said, or whether it was within the range of possibility that God should fulfill His promise. Unbelief has more phases than the moon and more colors than the chameleon. Common people say of the devil that he is seen sometimes in one shape and sometimes in another. I am sure this is true of Satan's first-born child-unbelief, for its forms are legion. At one time I see unbelief dressed out as an angel of light. It calls itself humility and it says, "I would not be presumptuous. I dare not think that God would pardon me. I am too great a sinner." We call that humility and thank God that our friend is in so good a condition. I do not thank God for any such delusion! It is the devil dressed as an angel of light-it is unbelief after all! At other times we detect unbelief in the shape of a doubt of God's immutability. "The Lord has loved me, but perhaps He will cast me off tomorrow. He helped me yesterday and under the shadows of His wings I trust. But perhaps I shall receive no help in the next affliction. He may have cast me off. He may be unmindful of His Covenant and forget to be gracious." Sometimes this infidelity is embodied in a doubt of God's power. We see every day new straits we are involved in-a net of difficulties-and we think, "surely the Lord cannot deliver us." We strive to get rid of our burden and finding that we cannot do it, we think God's arm is as short as ours and His power as little as human might. A fearful form of unbelief is that doubt which keeps men from coming to Christ, which leads the sinner to distrust the ability of Christ to save him, to doubt the willingness of Jesus to accept so great a transgressor. But the most hideous of all is the traitor, in its true colors, blaspheming God and madly denying His existence. Infidelity, deism and atheism are the ripe fruits of this pernicious tree. They are the most terrific eruptions of the volcano of unbelief. Unbelief has become of full stature, when quitting the mask and laying aside disguise, it profanely stalks the earth, uttering the rebellious cry, "No God," striving in vain to shake the throne of the divinity, by lifting up its arm against Jehovah and in its arrogance would-

"Snatch from His hand the balance and the rod,
Rejudge His justice-be the god of God."

Then, truly, unbelief has come to its full perfection. And then you see what it really is-for the least un-belief is of the same nature as the greatest.

I am astonished and I am sure you will be, when I tell you that there are some strange people in the world who do not believe that unbelief is a sin! Strange people I must call them, because they are sound in their faith in every other respect. Only to make the articles of their creed consistent, as they imagine, they deny that unbelief is sinful. I remember a young man going into a circle of friends and ministers who were disputing whether it was a sin in men that they did not believe the gospel. While they were discussing it, he said, "Gentlemen am I in the presence of Christians? Are you believers in the Bible, or are you not?" They said, "We are Christians, of course." "Then," he said, "does not the Scripture say, of sin, 'because they believed not on Me?' And is it not the dawning sin of sinners, that they do not believe on Christ?" I could not have thought that persons should be so foolhardy as to venture to assert that, "it is no sin for a sinner not to believe on Christ." I thought that however far they might wish to push their sentiments, they would not tell a lie to uphold the Truth and, in my opinion, this is what such men are really doing! Truth is a strong tower and never requires to be buttressed with error. God's Word will stand against all man's devices. I would never invent a sophism to prove that it is no sin on the part of the ungodly not to believe, for I am sure it is. I am taught in the Scriptures that, "This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world and men love darkness rather than light." And when I read, "He that believes not is condemned already, because he believes not on the Son of God," I affirm and the Word declares it, unbelief is a sin. Surely with rational and unprejudiced persons, it cannot require any reasoning to prove it. Is it not a sin for a creature to doubt the word of its Maker? Is it not a crime and an insult to the divinity, for me, an atom, a particle of dust, to dare to deny His words? Is it not the very summit of arrogance and extremity of pride for a son of Adam to say, even in his heart, "God I doubt Your Grace. God I doubt Your love. God I doubt Your power"? Oh, sirs believe me, could you roll all sins into one mass-could you take murder, blasphemy, lust, adultery and fornication and everything that is vile and unite them all into one vast globe of black corruption, they would not equal, even then- the sin of unbelief! This is the monarch sin, the quintessence of guilt, the mixture of the venom of all crimes. The dregs of the wine of Gomorrah. It is the A-1 sin, the masterpiece of Satan, the chief work of the devil!

I shall attempt this morning, for a little while, to show the extremely evil nature of the sin of unbelief.

1. And first the sin of unbelief will appear to be extremely heinous when we remember that it is the parent of every other iniquity. There is no crime which unbelief will not beget. I think that the Fall ofman is very much owing to it. It was in this point that the devil tempted Eve. He said to her, "Yes, has God said, you shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" He whispered and insinuated a doubt, "Yes, has God said so?" As much as to say, "Are you quite sure He said so?" It was by means of unbelief-that thin part of the wedge-that curiosity, the other sin entered, and the rest followed. She touched the fruit and destruction came into this world. Since that time, unbelief has been the prolific parent of all guilt. An unbeliever is capable of the vilest crime that ever was committed. Unbelief, sirs! Why it hardened the heart of Pharaoh-it gave license to the tongue of blaspheming Rabshakeh-yes, it became a deicide and murdered Jesus. Unbelief! It has sharpened the knife of the suicide! It has mixed many a cup of poi-son. Thousands it has brought to the halter and many to a shameful grave who have murdered them-selves and rushed with bloody hands before their Creator's tribunal because of unbelief! Give me an un-believer-let me know that he doubts God's Word-let me know that he distrusts His promises and His threats. And with that for a premise, I will conclude that the man shall, by-and-by, unless there is amazing restraining power exerted upon him, be guilty of the foulest and blackest crimes. Ah, this is a Beelzebub sin! Like Beelzebub, it is the leader of all evil spirits. It is said of Jeroboam that he sinned and made Israel to sin. And it may be said of unbelief that it not only sins, itself, but makes others sin. It is the egg of all crime, the seed of every offense. In fact everything that is evil and vile lies couched in that one word-unbelief!

And let me say here that unbelief in the Christian is of the same nature as unbelief in the sinner. It is not the same in its final issue, for it will be pardoned in the Christian. Yes, it is pardoned-it was laid upon the scapegoat's head of old-it was blotted out and atoned for. But it is of the same sinful nature! In fact, if there can be one sin more heinous than the unbelief of a sinner, it is the unbelief of a saint. For a saint to doubt God's Word-for a saint to distrust God after innumerable instances of His love, after ten thousand proofs of His mercy-exceeds everything. In a saint, moreover, unbelief is the root of other sins. When I am perfect in faith I shall be perfect in everything else-I should always fulfill the precept if I always believe the promise. But it is because my faith is weak that I sin. Put me in trouble and if I can fold my arms and say, "Jehovah-Jireh the Lord will provide," you will not find me using wrong means to escape from it. But let me be in temporal distress and difficulty, if I distrust God, what then? Perhaps I shall steal, or do a dishonest act to get out of the hands of my creditors. Or if kept from such a transgression, I may plunge into excess to drown my anxieties. Once take away faith, the reins are bro-ken. And who can ride an unbroken steed without rein or bridle? Like the chariot of the sun with Phaeton for its driver, such would we be without faith. Unbelief is the mother of vice. It is the parent of sin- and, therefore, I say it is a pestilent evil-a master sin!

2. But secondly-unbelief not only begets, but fosters sin. How is it that men can keep their sin under the thunders of the Sinai preacher? How is it that, when Boanerges stands in the pulpit and, by the Grace of God, cries aloud, "Cursed is every man that keeps not all the commands of the Law"-how is it that when the sinner hears the tremendous threats of God's justice, still he is hardened and walks on in his evil ways? I will tell you. It is because unbelief of that threat prevents it from having any effect upon him. When our sappers and miners go to work around Sebastopol, they could not work in front of the walls if they had not something to keep off the shots. So they raise earthworks, behind which they can do what they please. So with the ungodly man. The devil gives him unbelief. He thus puts up an earth-work and finds refuge behind it. Ah, Sinners, when once the Holy Spirit knocks down your unbelief- when once He brings home the Truth in demonstration and in power-how the Law will work upon your soul! If man did but believe that the Law is holy, that the commandments are holy, just and good, how he would be shaken over Hell's mouth. There would be no sitting and sleeping in God's House. No careless hearers. No going away and straightway forgetting what manner of men you are! Oh, once get rid of unbelief, how would every ball from the batteries of the Law fall upon the sinner and the slain of the Lord would be many. Again, how is it that men can hear the wooing of the cross of Calvary and yet come not to Christ? How is it that when we preach about the sufferings of Jesus and close up by saying, "yet there is room"-how is it that when we dwell upon His cross and Passion, men are not broken in their hearts? It is said-

"Law and terrors do but harden
All the while they work alone
But a sense of blood-bought pardon
Will dissolve a heart of stone."

I think the tale of Calvary is enough to break a rock. Rocks did rend when they saw Jesus die. I think the tragedy of Golgotha is enough to make a flint gush with tears and to make the most hardened wretch weep out his eyes in drops of penitential love. But yet we tell you and repeat it often, but who weeps over it? Who cares about it? Sirs, you sit as unconcerned as if it did not have any meaning to you! Oh, I bellow and see all you that pass by. Is it nothing to you that Jesus should die? You seem to say, "It is nothing." What is the reason? Because there is unbelief between you and the cross! If there were not that thick veil between you and the Savior's eyes, His looks of love would melt you. But unbelief is the sin which keeps the power of the gospel from working in the sinner-and it is not till the Holy Spirit strikes that unbelief out-it is not till the Holy Spirit rends away that infidelity and takes it altogether down, that we can find the sinner coming to put His trust in Jesus.

3. But there is a third point. Unbelief disables a man for the performance of any good work-

"Whatever is not of faith is sin," is a great Truth of God in more senses than one. "Without faith it is impossible to please God." You shall never hear me say a word against morality. You shall never hear me say that honesty is not a good thing, or that sobriety is not a good thing. On the contrary, I would say they are commendable things. But I will tell you what I will say afterwards-I will tell you that they are just like the Dowries of India. They may pass current among the Indians, but they will not do in Eng-land. These virtues may be current here below, but not above. If you have not something better than your own goodness, you will never get to Heaven! Some of the Indian tribes use little strips of meat in-stead of money and I would not find fault with them if I lived there. But when I come to England, strips of meat will not suffice. So honesty, sobriety and such things, may be very good among men-and the more you have of them, the better. I exhort you, whatever things are lovely and pure and of good report, have them-but they will not do up there. All these things put together, without faith, do not please God! Virtues without faith are whitewashed sins. Obedience without faith, if it is possible, is a gilded disobedience. Not to believe nullifies everything. It is the fly in the ointment. It is the poison in the pot. Without faith all the virtues of purity, all the benevolence of philanthropy, all the kindness of disinterested sympathy, all the talents of genius, all the bravery of patriotism and all the decision of principle- "without faith it is impossible to please God." Do you not see, then, how bad unbelief is? It prevents men from performing good works. Yes, even in Christians, themselves, unbelief disables them. Let me just tell you a tale-a story of Christ's life. A certain man had an afflicted son, possessed with an evil spirit. Jesus was up in Mount Tabor, transfigured. So the father brought his son to the disciples. What did the disciples do? They said, "Oh, we will cast him out." They put their hands upon him and they tried to do it. But they whispered among themselves and said, "We are afraid we shall not be able." By-and-by the diseased man began to froth at the mouth, he foamed and scratched the earth, clasping it in his madness. The demoniac spirit within him was alive. The devil was still there. In vain their repeated exorcisms-the evil spirit remained like a lion in his den-nor could their efforts dislodge him. "Go!" they said. But he went not, "Away to the pit of Hell!" they cried. But he remained immoveable. The lips of unbelief cannot affright the Evil One, who might well have said, "Faith I know, Jesus I know, but who are you? You have no faith." If they had had faith, as a grain of mustard seed, they might have cast the devil out! But their faith was gone and therefore they could do nothing. Look at poor Peter's case, too. While he had faith, Peter walked on the waves of the sea. That was a splendid walk. I almost envy him treading upon the billows. Why, if Peter's faith had continued, he might have walked across the Atlantic to America. But presently there came a billow behind him and he said, "That will sweep me away." And then another and he cried out, "That will overwhelm me." And he thought-how could I be so presumptuous as to be walking on the top of these waves? Down goes Peter! Faith was Peter's life buoy. Faith was Peter's charm-it kept him up. But unbelief sent him down. Do you know that you and I, all our lifetime, will have to walk on the water? A Christian's life is always walking on water-mine is-and every wave would swallow and devour him but faith makes him stand. The moment you cease to believe, that moment distress comes in-down you go! Oh, Why do you doubt, then? Faith fosters every virtue-unbelief murders every one! Thousands of prayers have been strangled in their infancy by unbelief. Unbelief has been guilty of infanticide. It has murdered many an infant petition, many a song of praise that would have swelled the chorus of the skies, has been stifled by an unbelieving murmur! Many a noble enterprise conceived in the heart has been blighted by unbelief before it could come forth. Many a man would have been a missionary, would have stood and preached his Master's gospel boldly-but he had unbelief. Once make a giant unbelieving and he becomes a dwarf-Faith is the Samsonian lock of the Christian-cut it off and you may put out his eyes-and he can do nothing.

4. Our next remark is-unbelief has been severely punished. Turn to the Scriptures! I see a world all fair and beautiful-its mountains laughing in the sun and the fields rejoicing in the golden light. I see maidens dancing and young men singing. How fair the vision! But lo, a grave and reverend sire lifts up his hand and cries, "A flood is coming to deluge the earth-the fountains of the great deep will be bro-ken up and all things will be covered. See yonder ark! One hundred and twenty years have I toiled with these my hands to build it-flee there and you are safe." "Aha, old man-away with your empty predictions! Aha, let us be happy while we may! When the flood comes, then we will build an ark-but there is no flood coming-tell that to fools. We believe no such things." See the unbelievers pursue their merry dance. Listen, Unbeliever! Do you not hear that rumbling noise? Earth's bowels have begun to move, her rocky ribs are strained by dire convulsions from within. Lo, they break with the enormous strain and from between them, torrents rush, unknown since God concealed them in the bosom of our world! Heaven is split in sunder! It rains. Not drops, but clouds descend. A cataract, like that of old Niagara, rolls from Heaven with mighty noise! Both firmaments, both deeps-the deep below and the deep above-do clasp their hands. Now Unbelievers, where are you now? There is your last remnant. A man-his wife clasping him round the waist-stands on the last summit that is above the water. See him there? The water is up to his loins even now. Hear his last shriek! He is floating-he is drowned. And as Noah looks from the ark he sees nothing. Nothing! It is a profound void. "Sea monsters whelp and stable in the palaces of kings." All is overthrown, covered, drowned. What has done it? What brought the Flood upon the earth? Unbelief. By faith Noah escaped from the flood. By unbelief the rest were drowned!

And, oh, do you not know that unbelief kept Moses and Aaron out of Canaan? They honored not God-they struck the rock when they ought to have spoken to it. They disbelieved-and therefore the punishment came upon them-that they should not inherit that good land, for which they had toiled and labored.

Let me take you where Moses and Aaron dwelt-to the vast and howling wilderness. We will walk about it for a time. Sons of the weary foot, we will become like the wandering Bedouins, we will tread the desert for a while. There lies a carcass whitened in the sun-there another and there another! What means these bleached bones? What are these bodies-there a man and there a woman? What are all these? How came these corpses here? Surely some grand encampment must have been here cut off in a single night by a blast, or by bloodshed. Ah, no, no. Those bones are the bones of Israel. Those skeletons are the old tribes of Jacob! They could not enter because of unbelief. They trusted not in God. Spies said they could not conquer the land. Unbelief was the cause of their death. It was not the Anakims that destroyed Israel. It was not the howling wilderness which devoured them. It was not the Jordan which proved a barrier to Canaan-neither Hivite or Jebusite slew them. It was unbelief, alone, which kept them out of Canaan. What a doom to be pronounced on Israel, after forty years of journeying-they could not enter because of unbelief!

Not to multiply instances, recollect Zechariah. He doubted and the angel struck him dumb. His mouth was closed because of unbelief. But oh, if you would have the worst picture of the effects of un-belief-if you would see how God has punished it-I must take you to the siege of Jerusalem. The worst massacre which time has ever seen, when the Romans raised the walls to the ground and put the whole of the inhabitants to the sword, or sold them as slaves in the marketplace. Have you never read of the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus? Did you never turn to the tragedy of Masada, when the Jews stabbed each other rather than fall into the hands of the Romans? Do you not know, that to this day the Jew walks through the earth a wanderer, without a home and without a land? He is cut off, as a branch is cut from a vine-and why? Because of unbelief. Each time you see a Jew with a sad and somber countenance-each time you mark him like a denizen of another land, treading as an exile in this, our country-each time you see him, pause and say, "Ah, it was unbelief which caused you to murder Christ and now it has driven you to be a wanderer. And faith alone-faith in the crucified Nazarene-can fetch you back to your country and restore it to its ancient grandeur." Unbelief, you see, has the mark of Cain upon its forehead. God hates it-God has dealt hard blows upon it-and God will ultimately crush it. Unbelief dishonors God. Every other crime touches God's territory. But unbelief aims a blow at His divinity, impeaches His veracity, denies His goodness, blasphemes His attributes, maligns His Character. Therefore, God of all things, hates first and chiefly, unbelief, wherever it is.

5. And now to close this point-for I have already been too long-let me remark that you will ob-serve the heinous nature of unbelief in this-that it is the damned sin. There is one sin for which Christ never died. It is the sin against the Holy Spirit. There is one other sin for which Christ never made Atonement. Mention every crime in the calendar of evil and I will show you persons who have found forgiveness for it. But ask me whether the man who died in unbelief can be saved and I reply there is no atonement for that man. There is an Atonement made for the unbelief of a Christian, because it is temporary, but the final unbelief-the unbelief with which men die-never was atoned for! You may turn over this whole Book and you will find that there is no Atonement for the man who died in unbelief. There is no mercy for him. Had he been guilty of every other sin but had believed, he would have been pardoned. But this is the damning exception-he had no faith. Devils seize him! O fiends of the pit of Hell, drag him downward to his doom! He is faithless and unbelieving and such are the tenants for whom Hell was built. It is their portion, their prison-they are the chief prisoners, the fetters are marked with their names. Forever shall they know that, "He that believes not shall be damned."

II. This brings us now to conclude with the PUNISHMENT. "You shall see it with your eyes, but shall not eat thereof." Listen, Unbelievers! You have heard this morning your sin, now listen to your doom-"you shall see it with your eyes, but shall not eat thereof." It is so often with God's own saints.

When they are unbelieving, they see the mercy with their eyes, but do not eat it. Now, there is corn in this land of Egypt. But there are some of God's saints who come here on the Sabbath and say, "I do not know whether the Lord will be with me or not." Some of them say, "Well, the gospel is preached, but I do not know whether it will be successful." They are always doubting and fearing. Listen to them when they get out of the Chapel. "Well, did you get a good meal this morning?" "Nothing for me." Of course not. You could see it with your eyes, but did not eat it because you had no faith! If you had come up with faith, you would have had a morsel. I have found Christians who have grown so very critical that if the whole portion of the meat they are to have, in due season, is not cut up exactly into square pieces and put upon some choice dish of porcelain they cannot eat it. Then they ought to go without. And they will have to go without, until they are brought to their appetites. They will have some affliction which will act like quinine upon them-they will be made to eat by means of bitters in their mouths. They will be put in prison for a day or two until their appetite returns. Then they will be glad to eat the most ordinary food, off the most common platter, or no platter at all. But the real reason why God's people do not feed under a gospel ministry is because they have not faith. If you believed, if you did but hear one promise that would be enough! If you only heard one good thing from the pulpit, here would be food for your soul. It is not the quantity we hear, but the quality we believe that does us good-it is that which we receive into our hearts with true and lively faith-that is our profit.

But let me apply this chiefly to the unconverted. They often see great works of God done with their eyes, but they do not eat thereof. A crowd of people have come here this morning to see with their eyes, but I doubt whether all of them eat. Men cannot eat with their eyes, for if they could, most would be well fed. And, spiritually, persons cannot feed simply with their ears, nor simply with looking at the preacher. And so we find the majority of our congregations come just to see. "Ah, let us hear what this babbler would say, this reed shaken in the wind." But they have no faith. They come and they see. And see. And see and never eat. There is someone in the front there, who gets converted. And someone down below who is called by Sovereign Grace-some poor sinner is weeping under a sense of his blood-guiltiness. Another is crying for mercy to God-and another is saying, "Have mercy upon me, a sinner." A great work is going on in this Chapel, but some of you do not know anything about it. You have no work going on in your hearts-and why? Because you think it is impossible. You think God is not at work. He has not promised to work for you who do not honor Him. Unbelief makes you sit here in times of revival and of the outpouring of God's Grace, unmoved, uncalled, unsaved! But, sirs, the worst fulfillment of this doom is to come! Good Whitefield used sometimes to lift up both his hands and shout, as I wish I could shout, but my voice fails me-"The wrath to come! The wrath to come!" It is not the wrath now you have to fear, but the wrath to come-and there shall be a doom to come, when "you shall see it with your eyes, but shall not eat thereof." I think I see the Last Great Day. The last hour of time has struck. I hear the bell toll its death knell-time was, eternity is ushered in-the sea is boiling. The waves are lit up with supernatural splendor. I see a rainbow-a flying cloud and on it there is a throne-and on that throne sits one like unto the Son of Man. I know Him. In His hand He holds a pair of balances-just before Him the books-the book of life, the book of death, the book of remembrance. I see His splendor and I rejoice at it. I behold His pompous appearance and I smile with gladness that He is come to be "admired of all His saints." But there stands a throng of miserable wretches, crouching in horror to conceal themselves and yet looking-for their eyes must look on Him whom they have pierced. But when they look, they cry, "Hide me from the face." What face? "Rocks, hide me from the face." What face? "The face of Jesus, the Man who died, but now is come to judgment." But you cannot hide from His face. You must see it with your eyes-but you will not sit on the right hand, dressed in robes of grandeur-and when the triumphal procession of Jesus in the clouds shall come, you shall not march in it. You shall see it, but you shall not be there! Oh, I think I see it now, the mighty Savior in His chariot, riding on the rainbow to Heaven! See how His mighty coursers make the sky rattle while He drives them up Heaven's hill. A train girded in white follow behind Him and at His chariot wheels He drags the devil, death and Hell. Hark! How they clap their hands. Hark, how they shout, "You have ascended up on high-You have led captivity captive." Hark! How they chant the solemn lay, "Hallelujah, the Lord God Omnipotent reigns." See the splendor of their appearance. Mark the crown upon their brows-see their snow-white garments-mark the rapture of their countenances! Hear how their song swells up to Heaven while the eternal joins therein, saying, "I will rejoice over them with joy, I will rejoice over them with singing, for I have betrothed you unto Me in everlasting loving kindness." But where are you all the while? You can see them up there but where are you? Looking at it with your eyes, but you cannot eat thereof. The marriage banquet is spread. The good old wines of eternity are broached. They sit down to the feast of the King. But there you are, miserable and famishing. And you cannot eat thereof. Oh, how you wring your hands. Might you but have one morsel from the table-might you but be dogs beneath the table? You shall be a dog in Hell, but not a dog in Heaven!

But to conclude. I think I see you in some place in Hell, tied to a rock, the vulture of remorse gnawing your heart. And up there is Lazarus in Abraham's bosom. You lift up your eyes and you see who it is. "That is the poor man who lay on my dunghill and the dogs licked his sores. There he is in Heaven, while I am cast down. Lazarus-yes, it is Lazarus! And I who was rich in the world of time am here in Hell. Father Abraham, send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, to cool my tongue." But no! It cannot be. It cannot be. And while you lie there, if there is one thing in Hell worse than another, it will be seeing the saints in Heaven! Oh, to think of seeing my mother in Heaven while I am cast out! Oh, Sinner, only think-to see your brother in Heaven-he who was rocked in the same cradle and played beneath the same roof-yet you are cast out! And, husband, there is your wife in Heaven and you are among the damned! And see you, father! Your child is before the throne. And you, accursed of God and accursed of man, are in Hell. Oh, the Hell of hells will be to see our friends in Heaven and your-selves lost! I beseech you, my hearers, by the death of Christ-by His agony and bloody sweat-by His cross and Passion-by all that is holy-by all that is sacred in Heaven and earth-by all that is solemn in time or eternity-by all that is horrible in Hell, or glorious in Heaven-by that awful thought, "forever"-I beseech you lay these things to heart and remember that if you are damned, it will be unbelief that damns you. If you are lost, it will be because you believed not on Christ! And if you perish, this shall be the bitterest drop of gall-that you did not trust in the Savior!

Adapted from The C. H. Spurgeon Collection, Version 1.0, Ages Software.

PRAY THE HOLY SPIRIT WILL USE THIS SERMON
TO BRING MANY TO A SAVING KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS CHRIST!

By the grace of God, for all 63 volumes of
C. H. Spurgeon sermons in Modern English,
and 574 Spanish translations, visit:

www.spurgeongems.org

THE REMEMBRANCE OF CHRIST

A SERMON DELIVERED ON SABBATH EVENING, JANUARY 7, 1855,

BY THE REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT NEW PARK STREET CHAPEL, SOUTHWARK.

"This do in remembrance of Me." 1 Corinthians 11:24.

IT seems, then, that Christians may forget Christ. The text implies the possibility of forgetfulness concerning Him whom gratitude and affection should compel them to remember. There could be no need for this loving exhortation if there were not a fearful supposition that our memories might prove treacherous and our remembrance superficial in its character, or changing in its nature. Nor is this a bare supposition-it is, alas, too well confirmed in our experience, not as a possibility, but as a lamentable fact. It seems at first sight too gross a crime to lay at the door of converted men. It appears almost impossible that those who have been redeemed by the blood of the dying Lamb should ever forget their Ransomer-that those who have been loved with an everlasting love by the eternal Son of God, should ever forget that Son. But if startling to the ear, it is, alas, too apparent to the eye to allow us to deny the fact. Forget Him who never forgot us? Forget Him who poured His blood forth for our sins? Forget Him who loved us even to the death? Can it be possible? Yes, it is not only possible, but conscience confesses that it is too sadly a fault of all of us-that we can remember anything except Christ. The object which we should make the monarch of our hearts is the very thing we are most inclined to forget. Where one would think that memory would linger and unmindfulness would be an unknown intruder-that is the very spot which is desecrated by the feet of forgetfulness-the place where memory too seldom looks. I appeal to the conscience of every Christian here-can you deny the truth of what I utter? Do you not find yourselves forgetful of Jesus? Some creature steals away your heart and you are unmindful of Him upon whom your affection ought to be set. Some earthly business engrosses your attention when you should have your eye steadily fixed upon the cross. It is the incessant round of world, world, world-the constant din of earth, earth, earth, that takes away the soul from Christ. Oh, my friends, is it not too sadly true that we can recollect anything but Christ and forget nothing so easy as Him whom we ought to remember? While memory will preserve a poisoned weed, it suffers the Rose of Sharon to wither.

The cause of this is very apparent-it lies in one or two facts. We forget Christ because regenerate persons as we are-still corruption and death remain even in us. We forget Him because we carry about with us the old Adam of sin and death. If we were purely new-born creatures, we would never forget the name of Him whom we love. If we were entirely regenerated beings, we would sit down and meditate on what our Savior did and suffered. As He is. All He has gloriously promised to perform. And never would our roving affections stray, but stay centered, nailed, fixed eternally to one object-we should continually contemplate the death and sufferings of our Lord. But alas, we have a worm in the heart, an abode of pests, a morgue within. Lusts, vile imaginations and strong evil passions like wells of poisonous water send out streams of impurity. I have a heart, which God knows I wish I could wring from my body and hurl to an infinite distance. I have a soul which is a cave of unclean birds, a den of loathsome creatures where dragons haunt and owls congregate, where every evil beast dwells-a heart too vile to have a parallel-"deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." This is the reason why I am forgetful of Christ. Nor is this the sole cause. I suspect it lies somewhere else, too. We forget Christ because there are so many other things around us to attract our attention. "But," you say, "they ought not to do so, because though they are around us, they are nothing in comparison with Jesus Christ-though they are in dread proximity to our hearts, what are they compared with Christ?" But do you know, dear friends, that the nearness of an object has a very great effect upon its power? The sun is many, many times larger than the moon, but the moon has a greater influence upon the tides of the ocean than the sun, simply because it is nearer and has a greater power of attraction. So I find that a little crawling worm of the earth has more effect upon my soul than the glorious Christ in Heaven. A handful of golden earth, a puff of fame, a shout of applause, a thriving business, my house, my home will affect me more than all the glories of the upper world. Yes, than the beatific vision itself-simply because earth is near and Heaven is far away. Happy day, when I shall be borne aloft on angels' wings to dwell forever near my Lord-to bask in the sunshine of His smile and to be lost in the ineffable radiance of His lovely countenance. We see, then, the cause of forgetfulness. Let us blush over it. Let us be sad that we neglect our Lord so much. And now let us attend to His Word, "This do in remembrance of Me," hoping that its solemn sounds may charm away the demon of base ingratitude.

We shall speak, first of all, concerning the blessed object of memory. Secondly, upon the advantages to be derived from remembering this person. Thirdly the gracious help, to our memory-"This do in remembrance of Me." And fourthly, the gentle command, "This do in remembrance of Me." May the HolySpirit open my lips and your hearts, that we may receive blessings.

I. First of all, we shall speak of THE GLORIOUS AND PRECIOUS OBJECT OF MEMORY- "This do in remembrance of Me." Christians have many treasures to lock up in the cabinet of memory. They ought to remember their election-"Chosen of God before time began." They ought to be mindful of their extraction, that they were taken out of the miry clay, hewn out of the horrible pit. They ought to recollect their effectual calling, for they were called of God and rescued by the power of the Holy Spirit. They ought to remember their special deliverances-all that has been done for them and all the mercies bestowed on them. But there is one whom they should embalm in their souls with the most costly spices-one who, above all other gifts of God, deserves to be had in perpetual remembrance. one, I said, for I mean not an act, I mean not a deed. But it is a person whose portrait I would frame in gold and hang up in the stateroom of the soul. I would have you earnest students of all the deeds of the conquering Messiah. I would have you conversant with the life of our beloved. But O forget not His person. For the text says, "This do in remembrance of ME." It is Christ's glorious person which ought to be the object of our remembrance. It is His image which should be enshrined in every temple of the Holy Spirit.

But some will say, "How can we remember Christ's person when we never saw it? We cannot tell what was the peculiar form of His visage. We believe His countenance to be fairer than that of any other man-although through grief and suffering more marred-but since we did not see it, we cannot re-member it. We never saw His feet as they trod the journeys of His mercy. We never beheld His hands as He stretched them out full of loving kindness. We cannot remember the wondrous intonation of His language, when in more than seraphic eloquence He awed the multitude and chained their ears to Him. We cannot picture the sweet smile that always hung on His lips, nor that awful frown with which He dealt out anathemas against the Pharisees. We cannot remember Him in His sufferings and agonies for we never saw Him." Well, beloved, I suppose it is true that you cannot remember the visible appearance, for you were not then born. But do you not know that even the Apostle said though He had known Christ after the flesh, yet, thenceforth after the flesh He would know Christ no more. The natural appearance, the race, the descent, the poverty, the humble garb-they are nothing in the Apostle's estimation of His glorified Lord. And thus, though you do not know Him after the flesh, you may know Him after the Spirit! In this manner you can remember Jesus as much now as Peter, or Paul, or John, or James, or any of those favored ones who once trod in His footsteps, walked side by side with Him, or laid their heads upon His bosom. Memory annihilates distance and leaps over time and can behold the Lord, though He is exalted in glory!

Ah, let us spend five minutes in remembering Jesus. Let us remember Him in His baptism, when descending into the waters of Jordan, a voice was heard, saying, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." Behold Him coming up dripping from the stream. Surely the conscious water must have blushed that it contained its God. He slept within its waves a moment-to consecrate the tomb of baptism-in which those who are dead with Christ are buried with Him. Let us remember Him in the wilderness, where He went straight from His immersion. Oh, I have often thought of that scene in the desert, when Christ, weary and worn, sat down, perhaps upon the gnarled roots of some old tree! Forty days had He fasted. He was hungry. Then in the extremity of His weakness there came the evil spirit. Perhaps he had veiled his demon royalty in the form of some aged pilgrim and taking up a stone, said, "Way worn pilgrim, if you are the Son of God, command this stone to be made bread." I think I see him, with his cunning smile and his malicious leer, as he held the stone and said, "If"-blasphemous if-"If you are the Son of God, command that this stone shall become a meal for me and You, for both of us are hungry and it will be an act of mercy. You can do it easily, speak the word and it shall be like the bread of Heaven. We will feed upon it and You and I will be friends forever." But Jesus said-and O how sweetly did He say it-"Man shall not live by bread alone." Oh, how wonderfully did Christ fight the Tempter! Never was there such a battle as that. It was a duel foot to foot-a single -handed combat- when the champion lion of the Pit and the mighty Lion of the tribe of Judah fought together. Splendid sight! Angels stood around to gaze upon the spectacle, just as men of old did sit to see the tournament of noted warriors. There Satan gathered up his strength. Here Apollyon concentrated all his Satanic power that in this giant wrestle he might overthrow the Seed of the woman! But Jesus was more than a match for him. In the wrestling He gave him a deadly fall and came out more than a conqueror. Lamb of God! I will remember Your desert strivings when next I combat with Satan. When next I have a conflict with roaring Diabolus, I will look to Him who conquered once and for all and broke the dragon's head with His mighty blows!

Further, I beseech you remember Him in all His daily temptations and hourly trials, in that life-long struggle of His through which He passed. Oh, what a mighty tragedy was the death of Christ! And His life, too! Ushered in with a song, it closed with a shriek, "It is finished!" It began in a manger and ended on a cross-but oh, the sad interval between! Oh, the black pictures of persecution when His friends abhorred Him. When His foes frowned at Him as He passed the streets. When He heard the hiss of calumny and was bitten by the foul tooth of envy. When slander said He had a devil and was mad-that He was a drunken man and a wine- bibber-and when His righteous soul was vexed with the ways of the wicked. Oh, Son of God, I must remember You. I cannot help remembering You, when I think of those years of toil and trouble which You did live for my sake! But do you know my chosen theme-the place where I can always best remember Christ? It is a shady garden full of olives. O that spot! I would that I had eloquence, that I might take you there. Oh, if the Spirit would but take us and set us down hard by the mountains of Jerusalem, I would say, See, there runs the brook of Kidron, which the King, Himself, did pass. And there you see the olive trees. Possibly, at the foot of that olive tree lay the three disciples when they slept. And there, ah, there, I see drops of blood! Stand here, my soul, a moment. Those drops of blood-do you behold them? Mark them. They are not the blood of wounds-they are the blood of a Man whose body was then unwounded. O my soul, picture Him when He knelt down in agony and sweat-sweat because He wrestled with God-sweat because He agonized with His Father. "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me." O Gethsemane! Your shades are deeply solemn to my soul. But ah, those drops of blood! Surely it is the climax of the height of misery. It is the last of the mighty acts of this wondrous Sacrifice. Can love go deeper than that? Can it stoop to greater deeds of mercy? Oh, had I eloquence I would bestow a tongue on every drop of blood that is there-that your hearts might rise in mutiny against your languor and coldness and speak out with earnest burning remembrance of Jesus. And now, farewell, Gethsemane.

But I will take you somewhere else where you shall still behold the "Man of Sorrows." I will lead you to Pilate's hall and let you see Him endure the mockeries of cruel soldiers-the smiting of mailed gloves, the blows of clenched fists. The shame, the spitting, the plucking of the hair-the cruel buffet-ings. Oh, can you not picture the King of Martyrs stripped of His garments-exposed to the gaze of fiend-like men? See you not the crown about His temples, each thorn acting as a lancet to pierce His head? Stare you not at His lacerated shoulders and the white bones starting out from the bleeding flesh?

Oh, Son of Man! I see You scourged and flagellated with rods and whips! How can I cease to remember You? My memory would be more treacherous than Pilate, did it not ever cry, Ecce Homo- "Behold the Man."

Now, finish the scene of woe by a view of Calvary. Think of the pierced hands and the bleeding side. Think of the scorching sun and then the entire darkness. Remember the broiling fever and the dread thirst. Think of the death shriek, "It is finished!" and of the groans which were its prelude. This is the object of memory. Let us never forget Christ. I beseech you, for the love of Jesus, let Him have the chief place in your memories. Let not the Pearl of Great Price be dropped from your careless hand into the dark ocean of oblivion.

I cannot, however, help saying one thing before I leave this head-and that is, there are some of you who can very well carry away what I have said because you have read it often and heard it before. But still you cannot spiritually remember anything about Christ because you never had Him manifested to you-and what we have never known-we cannot remember. Thanks be unto God, I speak not of you all, for in this place there is a goodly remnant according to the election of Grace and to them I turn. Per-haps I could tell you of some old barn, hedge-row, or cottage. Or if you have lived in London, about some attic, or some dark lane or street, where first you met with Christ. Or some chapel into which you strayed and you might say, "Thank God, I can remember the seat where first He met with me and spoke the whispers of love to my soul and told me He had purchased me"-

"Do mind the place, the spot of ground,
Where Jesus did you meet!"

Yes, and I would love to build a temple on the spot and to raise some monument there-where Jehovah-Jesus first spoke to my soul and manifested Himself to me. But He has revealed Himself to you more than once-has He not? And you can remember scores of places where the Lord has appeared of old un-to you, saying, "Behold I have loved you with an everlasting love." If you cannot all remember such things, there are some of you that can. And I am sure they will understand me when I say, come and do this in remembrance of Christ-in remembrance of all His loving visitations-of His sweet wooing words-of His winning smiles upon you-of all He has said and communicated to your souls. Remember all these things, tonight, if it is possible for memory to gather up the mighty aggregate of Grace. "Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all His benefits."

II. Having spoken upon the blessed object of our memory, we say, secondly, a little upon THE BENEFITS TO BE DERIVED FROM A LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF CHRIST.

Love never says, "Cui bono?" Love never asks what benefit it will derive from love. Love from its very nature is an unselfish thing. It loves for the creature's sake it loves and for nothing else. The Christian needs no argument to make Him love Christ-just as a mother needs no argument to make her love her child. She does it because it is her nature to do so. The new-born creature must love Christ-it can-not help it. Oh, who can resist the matchless charms of Jesus Christ?-the fairest of ten thousand fairs, the loveliest of ten thousand loves! Who can refuse to adore the Prince of Perfection, the Mirror of Beauty, the Majestic Son of God? But yet it may be useful to us to observe the advantages of remembering Christ, for they are neither few nor small.

And first, remembrance of Jesus will tend to give you hope when you are under the burden of your sins. Let us notice a few characters here tonight. There comes in a poor creature. Look at him! He hasneglected himself this last month. He looks as if he had hardly eaten his daily bread. What is the matter with you? "Oh," he says, "I have been under a sense of guilt. I have been again and again lamenting, be-cause I fear I can never be forgiven-once I thought I was good, but I have been reading the Bible and I find that my heart is 'deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.' I have tried to reform, but the more I try, the deeper I sink in the mire. There is certainly no hope for me. I feel that I deserve no mercy-it seems to me that God must destroy me, for He has declared, 'The soul that sins it shall die.' And die I must, be damned I must, for I know I have broken God's Law." How will you comfort such a man? What soft words will you utter to give him peace? I know! I will tell him to remember Christ. I will tell him there is one who paid the mighty debt of misery. Yes, I will tell you drunks, swearers-whatever you have been-I will tell you that there is one who for you has made a complete Atonement! If you only believe on Him you are safe forever. Remember Him, you poor dying, hopeless creature and you shall be made to sing for joy and gladness. Look, the man believes and in ecstasy exclaims, "Oh, come all you that fear God and I will tell you what He has done for my soul"-

"Tell it unto sinners, tell,
I am, I am out of Hell."

Hallelujah! God has blotted out my sins like a thick cloud! That is one benefit to be derived from remembering Christ. It gives us hope under a sense of sin and tells us there is mercy yet.

Now, I must have another character. And what does he say? "I cannot stand it any longer-I have been persecuted and ill-treated because I love Christ. I am mocked and laughed at and despised-I try to bear it, but I really cannot. A man will be a man-tread upon a worm and he will turn upon you. My patience altogether fails me. I am in such a peculiar position that it is of no use to advise me to have patience, for patience I cannot have. My enemies are slandering me and I do not know what to do." What shall we say to that poor man? How shall we give him patience? What shall we preach to him? You have heard what he has to say about himself. How shall we comfort him under this great trial? If we suffered the same, what should we wish some friend to say to us? Shall we tell him that other persons have borne as much? He will say, "Miserable comforters are you all!" No, I will tell him, "Brother, you are persecuted, but remember the words of Jesus Christ, how He spoke unto us and said, 'Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for great is your reward in Heaven, for so persecuted they the prophets that were before you.'" My brother! Think of Him, who when He died, prayed for His murderers and said, "Father, for-give them, for they know not what they do." All you have to bear is as nothing compared with His mighty sufferings. Take courage-face it again like a man-never say die. Let not your patience be gone. Take up your cross daily and follow Christ. Let Him be your motto-set Him before your eyes. And, now, receiving this, hear what the man will say. He tells you at once-"Hail, persecution! Welcome shame! Disgrace for Jesus shall be my honor and scorn shall be my highest glory-

'Now, for the love I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss,
I pour contempt on all my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.'"

There is another effect, you see, of remembering Christ. It tends to give us patience under persecution. It is a belt to brace up the loins so that our faith may endure to the end.

Dear friends, I would occupy your time too much if I went into the several benefits. So I will only just run over one or two blessings to be received. It will give us strength in temptation. I believe that there are hours with every man when he has a season of terrific temptation. There was never a vessel that lived upon the mighty deep but sometimes it has to do battle with a storm. There she is, the poor ship, rocked up and down on the mad waves. See how they throw her from wave to wave, all toss her to mid-heaven. The winds laugh her to scorn. Old ocean takes the ship in his dripping fingers and shakes it to and fro. How the mariners cry out for fear! Do you know how you can put oil upon the waters and all shall be still? Yes, one potent word shall do it. Let Jesus come. Let the poor heart remember Jesus and steadily, then, the ship shall sail, for Christ has the helm. The winds shall blow no more, for Christ shall bid them shut their mighty mouths and never again disturb His child. There is nothing which can give you strength in temptation and help you to weather the storm like the name of Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Son of God! Then again, what comfort it will give you on a sick bed-the name of Christ! It will help you to be patient to those who wait upon you and to endure the sufferings which you have to bear. Yes, it shall be so with you, that you shall have more hope in sickness than in health and shall find a blessed sweetness in the bitterness of gall. Instead of feeling vinegar in your mouth through your trouble, you shall find honey for sweetness in the midst of all the trial and trouble that God will put upon you-"For He gives songs in the night."

But just to close up the advantages of remembering Christ-do you know where you will have the benefit most of all? Do you know the place where chiefly you will rejoice that you ever thought of Him? I will take you to it. Hush! Silence! You are going upstairs into a lonely room. The curtains hang down. Someone stands there weeping. Children are around the bed and friends are there. See that man lying there? That is yourself-look at how his eyes are your eyes-his hands are your hands. That is your-self-you will be there soon, Man! That is yourself-do you see it? It is a picture of yourself-those areyour eyes that soon will be closed in death-your hands that will lie stiff and motionless-your lips that will be dry and parched, between which they will put drops of water. Those are your words that freeze in air and drop so slowly from your dying lips. I wonder whether you will be able to remember Christ there? If you do not, I will picture you. Behold that man, straight up in the bed-see his eyes starting from their sockets? His friends are all around, they ask him what he sees. He represses the emotion. He tells them he sees nothing. They know that there is something before his eyes. He starts again. Good God! What is that I see-I seem to see? That is it? Ah, one sigh! The soul is gone. The body is there. What did he see? He saw a flaming throne of judgments. He saw God upon it with His scepter. He saw books opened. He beheld the throne of God and saw a messenger with a sword brandished in the air to smite him low. Man! That is yourself. There you will be soon. That picture is your own portrait. I have photographed you to the life. Look at it. That is where you shall be within a few years-yes, within a few days. But if you can remember Christ, shall I tell you what you will do? Oh, you will smile in the midst of trouble. Let me picture such a man. They put pillows behind him. He sits up in bed and takes the hand of his loved one and says, "Farewell! Weep not for me! The kind God shall wipe away all tears from every eye." Those round about are addressed, "Prepare to meet your God and follow me to the land of bliss." Now he has set his house in order. It is done. Behold him, like good old Jacob, leaning on his staff, about to die. See how his eyes sparkle! He claps his hands-they gather round to hear what he has to say. He whispers, "Victory!" And summoning a little more strength, he cries, "Victory!" And at last, with his final gasp, "Victory, through Him that loved us!" And he dies. This is one of the great benefits to be derived from remembering Christ-to be enabled to meet death with blessed composure.

III. We are now arrived at the third portion of our meditations which is A SWEET AID TO MEMORY.

At schools we use certain books, called "Aids to Memory." I am sure they rather perplexed than assisted me. Their utility was equivalent to that of a bundle of canes under a traveler's arm-true, he might use them one by one to walk with, but in the meantime he carried a host of others which he would never need. But our Savior was wiser than all our teachers and His remembrances are true and real aids to memory. His love tokens have an unmistakable language and they sweetly win our attention.

Behold the whole mystery of the sacred Eucharist. It is bread and wine which are lively emblems of the body and blood of Jesus. The power to excite remembrance consists in the appeal thus made to the senses. Here the eye, the hand, the mouth find joyful work. The bread is tasted and entering within, works upon the sense of taste, which is one of the most powerful remembrances. The wine is sipped- the act is palpable. We know that we are drinking and thus the senses which are usually clogs to the soul become wines to lift the mind in contemplation. Again-much of the influence of this ordinance is found in its simplicity. How beautifully simple the ceremony is-bread broken and wine poured out. There is no calling that thing a chalice, that thing a paten and that a host. Here is nothing to burden the memory-here is the simple bread and wine. He must have no memory at all who cannot remember that he has eaten bread and that he has been drinking wine. Note again, the mighty pregnancy of these signs-how full they are of meaning. Bread broken-so was your Savior broken. Bread to be eaten-so His flesh is food, indeed. Wine poured out, the pressed juice of the grape-so was your Savior crushed under the foot of divine justice. His blood is your sweetest wine. Wine to cheer your heart-so does the blood of Jesus. Wine to strengthen and invigorate you-so does the blood of the Mighty Sacrifice. Oh, make that bread and wine to your souls tonight a sweet and blessed help of remembrance of that dear Man who once on Calvary died. Like the little ewe lamb, you are now to eat your Master's bread and drink from His cup. Remember the hand which feeds you.

But before you can remember Christ well here, you must ask the assistance of the Holy Spirit. I believe there ought to be a preparation before the Lord's Supper. I do not believe in Mrs. Toogood's preparation, who spent a week in preparing and then finding it was not the Ordinance Sunday, she said she had lost all the week. I do not believe in that kind of preparation. But I do believe in a holy preparation for the Lord's Supper-when we can on a Saturday, if possible, spend an hour in quiet meditation on Christ and His Passion. When, especially on the Sabbath afternoon, we can devoutly sit down and be-hold Him-then these scenes become realities and not mockeries, as they are to some. I fear greatly that there are some of you who will eat the bread tonight and will not think about Christ-some of you who will drink the wine and not think of His blood-and vile hypocrites you will be while you do it! Take heed to yourselves, "He that eats and drinks unworthily, eats and drinks-what?-"damnation to him-self." This is plain English. Mind what you are doing! Do not do it carelessly. For of all the sacred things on earth, it is the most solemn. We have heard of some men banded together by draining blood from their arms and drinking it all round. That was most horrid, but at the same time most solemn. Here you are to drink blood from the veins of Christ and sip the trickling stream which gushed from His own loving heart. Is not that a solemn thing? Ought anybody to trifle with it? To go to church and take it for sixpence? To come and join us for the sake of getting charities? Away with it! It is an awful blasphemy against Almighty God and among the damned in Hell! Those shall be among the most accursed who dared thus to mock the holy ordinance of God. This is the remembrance of Christ. "This do in remembrance of Me." If you cannot do it in remembrance of Christ, I beseech you, as you love your souls, do not do it at all! Oh, regenerate man or woman, enter not into the court of the priests, lest Israel's God resent the intrusion.

IV. And now to close up. Here is A SWEET COMMAND-"This do in remembrance of Me." To whom does this command apply? "This do YOU." It is important to answer this question-"This do YOU." Who are intended? You who put your trust in Me. "This do you in remembrance of Me." Well, now, you should suppose Christ speaking to you tonight. And He says, "This do you in remembrance of Me." Christ watches you at the door. Some of you go home and Christ says, "I thought I said, 'This do you in remembrance of Me.'" Some of you keep your seats as spectators. Christ sits with you and He says, "I thought I said, 'This do you in remembrance of Me.'" "Lord, I know You did." "Do you love Me, then?" "Yes, I love You. I love You, Lord, You know I do." "But, I say, go down there-eat that bread, drink that wine." "I do not like to, Lord. I should have to be baptized if I joined that Church and I am afraid I shall catch cold, or be looked at. I am afraid to go before the Church, for I think they would ask some questions I could not answer." "What?" asks Christ, "Is this all you love Me? Is this all your affection to your Lord? Oh, how cold to Me, your Savior! If I had loved you no more than this, you would have been in Hell-if that were the full extent of My affection, I would not have died for you. Great love bore great agonies-and is this all your gratitude to Me?" Are not some of you ashamed, after this? Do you not say in your hearts, "It is really wrong"? Christ says, "Do this in remembrance of Me," and are you not ashamed to stay away? I give a free invitation to every lover of Jesus to come to this table. I beseech you, deny not yourselves the privilege by refusing to unite with the Church. If you still live in sinful neglect of this ordinance, let me remind you that Christ has said, "Whoever shall be ashamed of Me in this generation, of him will I be ashamed, when I come in the Glory of My Father." Oh, soldier of the cross, act not the coward's part!

And not to lead you into any mistakes, I must just add one thing and then I have done. When I speak of your taking the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, do not imagine that I wish you for one moment to suppose that there is anything saving in it. Some say that the ordinance of baptism is non-essential. So is the ordinance of the Lord's Supper-it is non-essential, if we look upon it in the light of salvation. Be saved by eating a piece of bread? Nonsense, confounded nonsense! Be saved by drinking a drop of wine? Why, it is too absurd for common sense to admit any discussion upon! You know it is the blood of Jesus Christ. It is the merit of His agonies. It is the purchase of His sufferings-it is what He did- that alone can save us. Venture on Him-venture wholly-and then you are saved. Do you know, poor convicted Sinner, the way of salvation? If I ever meet you in the next world, you might, perhaps, say to me, "I spent one evening, sir, in hearing you and you never told me the way to Heaven." Well, you shall hear it-Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, trust in His name, find refuge in His cross, rely upon the power of His Spirit, trust in His righteousness and you are saved beyond the vengeance of the Law, or the power of Hell. But trust in your own works and you are lost as sure as you are alive!

Now, O ever glorious Son of God, we approach Your table to feast on the viands of Grace. Permit each of us, in reliance upon Your Spirit, to exclaim in the words of one of Your own poets-

"Remember You and all Your pains
And all Your love to me?-Yes,
While a pulse or breath remains,
I will remember Thee.
And when these failing lips grow dark
And thought and memory flee
When You shall in Your kingdom come,
Jesus, remember me!"

Adapted from The C. H. Spurgeon Collection, Version 1.0, Ages Software.

PRAY THE HOLY SPIRIT WILL USE THIS SERMON
TO BRING MANY TO A SAVING KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS CHRIST!

By the grace of God, for all 63 volumes of
C. H. Spurgeon sermons in Modern English,
and 574 Spanish translations, visit:

www.spurgeongems.org

THE IMMUTABILITY OF GOD

A SERMON DELIVERED ON SABBATH MORNING, JANUARY 7, 1855,

BY THE REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT NEW PARK STREET CHAPEL, SOUTHWARK.

"I am the Lord, I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed." Malachi 3:6.

IT has been said by someone that "the proper study of mankind is man." I will not oppose the idea, but I believe it is equally true that the proper study of God's elect is God. The proper study of a Christian is the Godhead. The highest science, the loftiest speculation, the mightiest philosophy which can ever engage the attention of a child of God is the name, the nature, the person, the work, the doings and the existence of the great God whom he calls his Father. There is something exceedingly improving to the mind in a contemplation of the divinity. It is a subject so vast, that all our thoughts are lost in its immensity-so deep that our pride is drowned in its infinity. Other subjects we can compass and grapple with-in them we feel a kind of self-content and go our way with the thought, "Behold I am wise." But when we come to this master science, finding that our plumb line cannot sound its depth and that our eagle eye cannot see its height, we turn away with the thoughts that vain man would be wise, but he is like a wild ass' colt and with the solemn exclamation, "I am but of yesterday and know nothing." No subject of contemplation will tend more to humble the mind, than thoughts of God. We shall be obliged to feel-

"Great God, how infinite are You,
What worthless worms are we!"

But while the subject humbles the mind it also expands it. He who often thinks of God will have a larger mind than the man who simply plods around this narrow globe. He may be a naturalist, boasting of his ability to dissect a beetle, anatomize a fly, or arrange insects and animals in classes with well-nigh unutterable names. He may be a geologist, able to discourse of the megatherium and the plesiosaurus and all kinds of extinct animals. He may imagine that his science, whatever it is, ennobles and enlarges his mind. I dare say it does, but after all, the most excellent study for expanding the soul is the science of Christ and Him crucified and the knowledge of the Godhead in the glorious Trinity. Nothing will so enlarge the intellect, nothing so magnify the whole soul of man as a devout, earnest, continued investigation of the great subject of the Deity. And while humbling and expanding, this subject is eminently consolatory. Oh, there is, in contemplating Christ, a balm for every wound! In musing on the Father, there isa quietus for every grief and in the influence of the Holy Spirit there is a balsam for every sore. Would you lose your sorrows? Would you drown your cares? Then go plunge yourself in the Godhead's deepest sea-be lost in His immensity. And you shall come forth as from a couch of rest, refreshed and invigorated. I know nothing which can so comfort the soul, so calm the swelling billows of grief and sorrow-so speak peace to the winds of trial-as a devout musing upon the subject of the Godhead. It is to that subject that I invite you this morning. We shall present you with one view of it-that is the immutability of the glorious Jehovah. "I am," says my text, "Jehovah," (for so it should be translated) "I am Jehovah, I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed."

There are three things this morning. First of all, an unchanging God. Secondly, the persons who de-rive benefit from this glorious attribute, "the sons of Jacob." And thirdly, the benefit they so derive, they "are not consumed." We address ourselves to these points.

I. First let us set before us the doctrine of the immutability of God. "I am God, I change not." Here I shall attempt to expound, or rather to enlarge the thought and then afterwards to bring a few arguments to prove its truth.

1. I shall offer some exposition of my text by first saying that God is Jehovah and He changes not in His essence. We cannot tell you what Godhead is. We do not know what substance that is which we callGod. It is an existence, it is a being. But what that is we know not. However, whatever it is, we call it His essence and that essence never changes. The substance of mortal things is ever changing. The mountains with their snow-white crowns doff their old diadems in summer, in rivers trickling down their sides, while the storm cloud gives them another coronation. The ocean, with its mighty floods, loses its water when the sunbeams kiss the waves and snatch them in mists to Heaven. Even the sun himself re-quires fresh fuel from the hand of the infinite Almighty to replenish his ever-burning furnace. All creatures change. Man, especially as to his body, is always undergoing revolution. Very probably there is not a single particle in my body which was in it a few years ago. This frame has been worn away by activity, its atoms have been removed by friction, fresh particles of matter have in the meantime constantly accrued to my body and so it has been replenished-its substance is altered. The fabric of which this world is made is ever passing away like a stream of water-drops are running away and others are following after, keeping the river still full-but always changing in its elements. But God is perpetually the same. He is not composed of any substance or material, but is Spirit-pure, essential and ethereal Spirit-and, therefore, He is immutable. He remains everlastingly the same. There are no furrows on His eternal brow. No age has palsied Him-no years have marked Him with the mementoes of their flight. He sees ages pass, but with Him it is ever now. He is the great I AM-the Great Unchangeable. Mark you, His essence did not undergo a change when it became united with the manhood. When Christ in past years did gird Himself with mortal clay, the essence of His divinity was not changed-flesh did not become God, nor did God become flesh by a real actual change of nature. The two were united in hypostatical union, but the Godhead was still the same. It was the same when He was a babe in the manger, as it was when He stretched the curtains of Heaven-it was the same God that hung upon the Cross and whose blood flowed down in a purple river. The self-same God that holds the world upon His everlasting shoulders and bears in His hands the keys of death and Hell. He never has been changed in His essence, not even by His incarnation-He remains everlastingly, eternally, the one unchanging God, the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness, neither the shadow of a change.

He changes not in His attributes. Whatever the attributes of God were of old, they are the same now. And of each of them we may sing, As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end, Amen. Was He powerful? Was He the mighty God when He spoke the world out of the womb of non-existence? Was He the omnipotent when He piled the mountains and scooped out the hollow places for the rolling deep? Yes, He was powerful then and His arm is unpalsied now. He is the same giant in His might. The sap of His nourishment is still wet and the strength of His soul stands the same forever. Was He wise when He constituted this mighty globe, when He laid the foundations of the universe? Had He wisdom when He planned the way of our salvation and when, from all eternity, He marked out His awful plans? Yes and He is wise now. He is not less skillful, He has not less knowledge. His eyes which see all things are undimmed. His ears which hear all the cries, sighs, sobs and groans of His people, are not rendered heavy by the years which He has heard their prayers. He is unchanged in His wisdom. He knows as much now as ever-neither more nor less. He has the same consummate skill and the same infinite forecasting. He is unchanged, blessed be His name, in His justice. Just and holy was He in the past-just and holy is He now. He is unchanged in His truth-He has promised and He brings it to pass. He has said it and it shall be done. He varies not in the goodness, generosity and benevolence of His nature. He is not become an almighty tyrant, whereas He was once an almighty Father. His strong love stands like a granite rock unmoved by the hurricanes of our iniquity. And blessed be His dear name, He is unchanged in His love. When He first wrote the covenant, how full His heart was with affection to His people. He knew that His Son must die to ratify the articles of that agreement. He knew right well that He must rend His best Beloved from His heart, and send Him down to earth to bleed and die. He did not hesitate to sign that mighty covenant. Nor did He shun its fulfillment. He loves as much now as He did then. And when suns shall cease to shine and moons to show their feeble light, He still shall love on for-ever and forever. Take any one attribute of God and I will write semper idem on it (always the same).

Take any one thing you can say of God, now, and it may be said not only in the dark past, but in the bright future. It shall always remain the same-"I am Jehovah, I change not"-impressed on His heart it remains.

Then again, God changes not in His plans. That man began to build, but was not able to finish and, therefore, he changed his plan-as every wise man would do in such a case-he built upon a smaller foundation and commenced again. But has it ever been said that God began to build but was not able to finish? No. When He has boundless stores at His command and when His own right hand would create worlds as numerous as drops of morning dew, shall He ever stay because He has not power? Or reverse, or alter, or disarrange His plan because He cannot carry it out? "But," say some, "perhaps God never had a plan." Do you think God is more foolish than yourself then, sir? Do you go to work without a plan? "No," you say, "I have always a scheme." So has God. Every man has his plan and God has a plan, too. God is a master mind-He arranged everything in His gigantic intellect long before He did it-and once having settled it, mark you, He never alters it. "This shall be done," says He and the iron hand of destiny marks it down and it is brought to pass. "This is My purpose," and it stands, nor can earth or Hell alter it. "This is My decree," says He. Promulgate it angels-rend it down from the gate of Heaven you devils. But you cannot alter the decree. It shall be done. God alters not His plans-why should He? He is almighty, and therefore can perform His pleasure. Why should He? He is the all-wise and, therefore, cannot have planned wrongly. Why should He? He is the everlasting God and, therefore, cannot die before His plan is accomplished. Why should He change? You worthless atoms of existence, ephemera of the day! You creeping insects upon this bay leaf of existence! You may change your plans, but He shall never, never change His. Then has He told me that His plan is to save me? If so, I am safe-

"My name from the palms of His hands
Eternity will not erase;
Impressed on His heart it remains,
In marks of indelible grace."

Yet again, God is unchanging in His promises. Ah, we love to speak about the sweet promises of God. But if we could ever suppose that one of them could be changed-we would not talk anything more about them. If I thought that the notes of the bank of England could not be cashed next week, I would decline to take them and if I thought that God's promises would never be fulfilled-if I thought that God would see it right to alter some word in His promises-farewell Scriptures! I want immutable things-and I find that I have immutable promises when I turn to the Bible-for, "by two immutable things in which it is impossible for God to lie," He has signed, confirmed and sealed every promise of His. The Gospel is not "yes and no," it is not promising today and denying tomorrow. The Gospel is "yes, yes," to the glory of God. Believer, there was a delightful promise which you had yesterday-and this morning when you turned to the Bible the promise was not sweet. Do you know why? Do you think the promise had changed? Ah, no, you changed-that is where the matter lies. You had been eating some of the grapes of Sodom and your mouth was thereby put out of taste and you could not detect the sweetness. But there was the same honey there, depend upon it-the same preciousness. "Oh," says one child of God, "I had built my house firmly once upon some stable promises. There came a wind and I said, O Lord, I am cast down and I shall be lost." Oh, the promises were not cast down. The foundations were not removed. It was your little "wood, hay, stubble" hut that you had been building. It was that which fell down. You have been shaken on the rock, not the rock under you. But let me tell you what is the best way of living in the world. I have heard that a gentleman said to a Negro, "I can't think how it is you are always so happy in the Lord and I am often downcast." "Why massa," said he, "I throw myself flat down on the promise-there I lie. You stand on the promise-you have a little to do with it and down you go when the wind comes. And then you cry, 'Oh, I am down.' Whereas I go flat on the promise at once and that is why I fear no fall." Then let us always say, "Lord, there is the promise. It is Your business to fulfill it." Down I go on the promise flat! No standing up for me. That is where you should go-prostrate on the promise. And remember, every promise is a rock, an unchanging thing. Therefore, at His feet cast yourself and rest there forever!

But now comes one jarring note to spoil the theme. To some of you God is unchanging in His threats. If every promise stands fast and every oath of the covenant is fulfilled, hark you, Sinner-markthe word-hear the death knell of your carnal hopes! See the funeral of the fleshy trusting. Every threat of God, as well as every promise shall be fulfilled. Talk of decrees! I will tell you of a decree -"He that believes not shall be damned." That is a decree and a statute that can never change. Be as good as youplease, be as moral as you can, be as honest as you will, walk as uprightly as you may-there stands the unchangeable threat-"He that believes not shall be damned."

What do you say to that, moralist? Oh, you wish you could alter it and say, "He that does not live a holy life shall be damned." That will be true. But it does not say so. It says, "He that believes not." Here is the stone of stumbling and the rock of offense. But you cannot alter it-you either believe or be damned, says the Bible. And mark-that threat of God is as unchangeable as God Himself. And when a thousand years of Hell's torments shall have passed away you shall look on high and see written in burning letters of fire, "He that believes not shall be damned."

"But, Lord, I am damned." Nevertheless it says "shall be" still. And when a million years have rolled away and you are exhausted by your pains and agonies, you shall turn up your eye and still read "SHALL BE DAMNED," unchanged, unaltered. And when you shall have thought that eternity must have spun out its last thread-that every particle of that which we call eternity must have run out, you shall still see it written up there, "SHALL BE DAMNED." O terrible thought! How dare I utter it? But I must. You must be warned, sirs, "lest you also come into this place of torment." You must be told rough things, for if God's gospel is not a rough thing, believe me, the law is a rough thing.

Mount Sinai is a rough thing. Woe unto the watchman that warns not the ungodly! God is unchanging in His threats. Beware, O sinner, for "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."

We must just hint at one thought before we pass on and that is-God is unchanging in the objects of His love-not only in His love, but in the objects of it-

"If ever it should come to pass
That sheep of Christ might fall away,
My fickle, feeble soul, alas,
Would fall a thousand times a day."

If one dear saint of God had perished, so might all. If one of the covenant ones is lost, so may all be and then there is no gospel promise true. Then the Bible is a lie and there is nothing in it worth my acceptance. I will be an infidel at once, when I can believe that a saint of God can ever fall finally. If God has loved me once, then He will love me forever-

"Did Jesus once upon me shine,
Then Jesus is forever mine."

The objects of everlasting love never change. Those whom God has called, He will justify. Whom He has justified, He will sanctify. And whom He sanctifies, He will glorify.

2. Thus having taken a great deal too much time, perhaps, in simply expanding the thought of an unchanging God, I will now try to prove that HE IS UNCHANGEABLE. I am not much of an argumentative preacher, but one argument that I will mention is this-the very existence and being of a God seem to me to imply immutability. Let me think a moment. There is a God. This God rules and governs all things-this God fashioned the world-He upholds and maintains it. What kind of being must He be? It does strike me that you cannot think of a changeable God. I conceive that the thought is so repugnant to common sense that if you for one moment think of a changing God, the words seem to clash and you are obliged to say, "Then He must be a kind of man," and you have a Mormonism idea of God!

I imagine it is impossible to conceive of a changing God. It is so to me. Others may be capable of such an idea, but I could not entertain it. I could no more think of a changing God than I could of a round square, or any other absurdity. The thing seems so contrary that I am obliged, when once I say, God, to include the idea of an unchanging being.

Well, I think that one argument will be enough, but another good argument may be found in the fact of God's perfection. I believe God to be a perfect being. Now, if He is a perfect being, He cannot change. Do you not see this? Suppose I am perfect today. If it were possible for me to change, should I be perfect tomorrow after the alteration? If I changed, I must either change from a good state to a better-and then if I could get better, I could not be perfect now-or else from a better state to a worse- and if I were worse, I should not be perfect then. If I am perfect, I cannot be altered without being imperfect. If I am perfect today, I must be the same tomorrow if I am to be perfect then. So, if God is perfect, He must be the same-for change would imply imperfection now or imperfection then.

Again, there is the fact of God's infinity, which puts change out of the question. God is an infinite being. What do you mean by that? There is no man who can tell you what he means by an infinite being. But there cannot be two infinities. If one thing is infinite, there is no room for anything else-for infinite means all. It means not bounded, not finite, having no end. Well, there cannot be two infinities. If God is infinite, today, and then should change and be infinite tomorrow, there would be two infinities. But that cannot be.

Suppose He is infinite and then changes, He must become finite and could not be God-either He is finite today and finite tomorrow, or infinite today and finite tomorrow, or finite today and infinite tomorrow-all of which suppositions are equally absurd. The fact of His being an infinite being at once quashes the thought of His being a changeable being. Infinity has written on its very brow the word "immutability."

But then, dear friends, let us look at the past-and there we shall gather some proofs of God's immutable nature. "Has He spoken and has He not done it? Has He sworn and has it not come to pass?" Can it not be said of Jehovah, He has done all His will and He has accomplished all His purpose?" Turn you to Philistia-ask where she is. God said, "Howl Ashdod and you gates of Gaza, for you shall fall," and where are they? Where is Edom? Ask Petra and its ruined walls. Will they not echo back the truth that God has said, "Edom shall be a prey and shall be destroyed"? Where is Babel and where is Nineveh? Where is Moab and where is Ammon? Where are the nations God has said He would destroy? Has He not uprooted them and cast out the remembrance of them from the earth?

And has God cast off His people? Has He once been unmindful of His promise? Has He once broken His oath and covenant, or once departed from His plan? Ah, no. Point to one instance in history where God has changed! You cannot, sirs-for throughout all history there stands the fact-God has been immutable in His purposes. I think I hear someone say, "I can remember one passage in Scripture where God changed!" And so did I think, once. The case I mean is that of the death of Hezekiah. Isaiah came in and said, "Hezekiah, you must die, your disease is incurable, set your house in order."

He turned his face to the wall and began to pray. And before Isaiah was in the outer court, he was told to go back and say, "You shall live fifteen years more." You may think that proves that God changes. But really, I cannot see in it the slightest proof in the world. How do you know that God did not know that? Oh, but God did know it-He knew that Hezekiah would live. Then He did not change, for if He knew that, how could He change? That is what I want to know. But do you know one little thing?- that Hezekiah's son Manasseh was not born at that time. And had Hezekiah died there would have been no Manasseh and no Josiah and no Christ, because Christ came from that very line!

You will find that Manasseh was 12 years old when his father died-so that he must have been born three years after this. And do you not believe that God decreed the birth of Manasseh and foreknew it? Certainly. Then He decreed that Isaiah should go and tell Hezekiah that his disease was incurable and then say also in the same breath, "But I will cure it and you shall live." He said that to stir up Hezekiah to prayer. He spoke, in the first place as a man. "According to all human probability your disease is in-curable and you must die." Then He waited till Hezekiah prayed-then came a little "but" at the end of the sentence.

Isaiah had not finished the sentence. He said, "You must put your house in order for there is no human cure-but" (and then he walked out. Hezekiah prayed a little and then he came in again and said) "But I will heal you." Where is there any contradiction there, except in the brain of those who fight against the Lord and wish to make Him a changeable being?

II. Now let me say a word on THE PERSONS TO WHOM THIS UNCHANGEABLE GOD IS A BENEFIT. "I am God I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed." Now, who are "the sons of Jacob"? Who can rejoice in an immutable God?

First, they are the sons of God's election. For it is written, "Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated, the children being not yet born, neither having done good nor evil." It was written, "The elder shall serve the younger." "The sons of Jacob-

"Are the sons of God's election,
Who through sovereign grace believe;
By eternal destination
Grace and glory they receive."

God's elect are here meant by "the sons of Jacob"-those whom He foreknew and foreordained to everlasting salvation!

By "the sons of Jacob" are meant, in the second place, persons who enjoy peculiar rights and titles. Jacob, you know, had no rights by birth, but he soon acquired them. He exchanged a mess of pottage with his brother, Esau, and thus gained the birthright. I do not justify the means. But he did also obtain the blessing and so acquired peculiar rights. By "the sons of Jacob" is meant persons who have peculiar rights and titles. Unto them who believe, He has given the right and power to become sons of God. They have an interest in the blood of Christ. They have a right to "enter in through the gates into the city"- they have a title to eternal honors. They have a promise to everlasting glory. They have a right to call themselves sons of God. Oh, there are peculiar rights and privileges belonging to the "sons of Jacob."

Next, these "sons of Jacob" were men of peculiar manifestations. Jacob had had peculiar manifestations from his God and thus he was highly honored. Once at night he lay down and slept. He had the hedges for his curtains, the sky for his canopy, a stone for his pillow and the earth for his bed. Oh, then he had a peculiar manifestation. There was a ladder and he saw the angels of God ascending and descending. He thus had a manifestation of Christ Jesus as the ladder which reaches from earth to Heaven-up and down which angels came to bring us mercies. Then what a manifestation there was at Mahanaim when the angels of God met him-and again at Peniel, when He wrestled with God and saw Him face to face. Those were peculiar manifestations-and this passage refers to those who, like Jacob, have had peculiar manifestations.

Now then, how many of you have had personal manifestations? "Oh," you say "that is enthusiasm- that is fanaticism." Well, it is a blessed enthusiasm, too, for the sons of Jacob have had peculiar manifestations. They have talked with God as a man talks with his friend-they have whispered in the ear of Jehovah. Christ has been with them to sup with them and they with Christ. And the Holy Spirit has shone into their souls with such a mighty radiance that they could not doubt about special manifestations. The "sons of Jacob" are the men who enjoy these manifestations.

Then again, they are men of peculiar trials. Ah, poor Jacob! I should not choose Jacob's lot if I had not the prospect of Jacob's blessing. For a hard lot his was. He had to run away from his father's house to Laban's-and then that surly old Laban cheated him all the years he was there-cheated him of his wife, cheated him in his wages, cheated him in his flocks and cheated him all through the story. By-and-by he had to run away from Laban who pursued him and overtook him. Next came Esau with four hundred men to cut him up root and branch. Then there was a season of prayer and afterwards he wrestled God-and had to go all his life with his thigh out of joint. And a little further on, Rachel, his dearly be-loved, died. Then his daughter Dinah is led astray and the sons murder the Shechemites. Then his dear son, Joseph, is sold into Egypt and a famine comes. Then Reuben goes up to his couch and pollutes it- Judah commits incest with his own daughter-in-law and all his sons become a plague to him. At last Benjamin is taken away and the old man, almost broken-hearted, cries, "Joseph is not and Simeon is not and you will take Benjamin away?" Never was man more tried than Jacob-all through the one sin of cheating his brother! All through his life God chastised him. But I believe there are many who can sympathize with dear old Jacob. They have had to pass through trials very much like his. Well, cross-bearers, God says, "I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed." Poor tried Souls! You are not consumed because of the unchanging nature of your God. Now do not get to fretting and say, with the self-conceit of misery, "I am the man who has seen affliction." Why "the Man of Sorrows" was afflicted more than you! Jesus was indeed a mourner. You only see the skirts of the garments of affliction. You never have trials like His. You do not understand what troubles mean. You have hardly sipped the cup of trouble-you have only had a drop or two, but Jesus drunk the dregs. Fear not, says God, "I am the Lord, I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob," men of peculiar trials, "are not consumed."

Then one more thought about who are the "sons of Jacob," for I should like you to find out whether you are "sons of Jacob," yourselves. They are men of peculiar character. For though there were some things about Jacob's character which we cannot commend, there are one or two things which God com-mends. There was Jacob's faith, by which Jacob had his name written among the mighty worthies who obtained not the promises on earth but shall obtain them in Heaven. Are you men of faith, beloved? Do you know what it is to walk by faith, to live by faith, to get your temporary food by faith, to live on spiritual manna-all by faith? Is faith the rule of your life? If so, you are the "sons of Jacob."

Then Jacob was a man of prayer-a man who wrestled and groaned and prayed. There is a man up yonder who never prayed this morning, before coming up to the House of God. Ah, you poor Heathen, don't you pray? "No!" he says, "I never thought of such a thing-for years I have not prayed." Well, I hope you may before you die. Live and die without prayer and you will pray long enough when you get to Hell. There is a woman-she did not pray this morning. She was so busy sending her children to the Sunday school she had no time to pray. No time to pray? Had you time to dress? There is a time for every purpose under Heaven and if you had purposed to pray, you would have prayed. Sons of God cannot live without prayer. They are wrestling Jacobs. They are men in whom the Holy Spirit so works that they can no more live without prayer than I can live without breathing. They must pray. sirs, mark you, if you are living without prayer, you are living without Christ. And dying like that, your portion will be in the lake which burns with fire. God redeem you, God rescue you from such a lot! But you who are "the sons of Jacob," take comfort, for God is immutable.

III. I can say only a word about the other point-THE BENEFIT WHICH THESE "SONS OF JA-COB" RECEIVE FROM AN UNCHANGING GOD. "Therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed." "Consumed?" How? How can man be consumed? Why, there are two ways. We might have been consumed in Hell. If God had been a changing God, the "sons of Jacob" here this morning, might have been consumed in Hell. But for God's unchanging love I should have been a stick in the fire. But there is a way of being consumed in this world. There is such a thing as being condemned before you die- "condemned already." There is such a thing as being alive and yet being absolutely dead. We might have been left to our own devices-and then where would we be now? Reveling with the drunkard, blaspheming Almighty God? Oh, had He left you, dearly beloved, had He been a changing God-you had been among the filthiest of the filthy and the vilest of the vile! Cannot you remember in your life seasons similar to those I have felt? I have gone right to the edge of sin-some strong temptation has taken hold of both my arms so that I could not wrestle with it. I have been pushed along, dragged as by an awful Satanic power to the very edge of some horrid precipice. I have looked down, down, down and seen my portion. I quivered on the brink of ruin. I have been horrified, as, with my hair upright, I have thought of the sin I was about to commit-the horrible pit into which I was about to fall! A strong arm has saved me. I have started back and cried, O God, could I have gone so near sin and yet come back again? Could I have walked right up to the furnace and not fallen down, like Nebuchadnezzar's strong men, devoured by the very heat? Oh, is it possible I should be here this morning, when I think of the sins I have committed and the crimes which have crossed my wicked imagination? Yes, I am here, unconsumed, because the Lord changes not. Oh, if He had changed, we should have been consumed in a dozen ways. If the Lord had changed, you and I should have been consumed by ourselves-for after all, Mr. Self is the worst enemy a Christian has. We would have proved suicides to our own souls. We would have mixed the cup of poison for our own spirits, if the Lord had not been an unchanging God and dashed the cup out of our hands when we were about to drink it. Then we would have been consumed by God, Himself, if He had not been a changeless God. We call God a Father-but there is not a father in this world who would not have killed all his children long ago, so provoked would he have been with them-if he had been half as much troubled as God has been with His family. He has the most trouble-some family in the whole world-unbelieving, ungrateful, disobedient, forgetful, rebellious, wandering, murmuring and stiff-necked. Well, it is that He is long-suffering, or else He would have taken not only the rod, but the sword to some of us long ago! But there was nothing in us to love at first, so there can-not be less now. John Newton used to tell a whimsical story and laugh at it, too, of a good woman who said, in order to prove the doctrine of Election-"Ah, sir, the Lord must have loved me before I was born, or else He would not have seen anything in me to love afterwards." I am sure it is true in my case and true in respect to most of God's people. For there is little to love in them after they are born. If He had not loved them before, He would have seen no reason to choose them after-but since He loved them without works, He still loves them without works. Since their good works did not win His affection, bad works cannot sever that affection-since their righteousness did not bind His love to them, so their wickedness cannot snap the golden links. He loved them out of pure sovereign grace and He will love them still. But we should have been consumed by the devil and by our enemies-consumed by the world, consumed by our sins, by our trials and in a hundred other ways if God had ever changed!

Well, now, time fails us and I can say but little. I have only just cursorily touched on the text. I now hand it to you. May the Lord help you "sons of Jacob" to take home this portion of meat. Digest it well and feed upon it. May the Holy Spirit sweetly apply the glorious things that are written! And may you have "a feast of fat things, of wines on the lees well refined!" Remember God is the same, whatever is removed. Your friends may be disaffected, your ministers may be taken away, everything may change- but God does not. Your brethren may change and cast out your name as vile-but God will still love you! Let your station in life change and your property be gone. Let your whole life be shaken and you become weak and sickly. Let everything flee away-there is one place where change cannot put his finger. There is one name on which mutability can never be written. There is one heart which never can alter. That heart is God's-that name Love-

"Trust Him, He will never deceive you.
Though you harshly of Him deem;
He will never, never leave you,
Nor will let you quite leave Him."

Adapted from The C. H. Spurgeon Collection, Version 1.0, Ages Software.

PRAY THE HOLY SPIRIT WILL USE THIS SERMON
TO BRING MANY TO A SAVING KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS CHRIST!

By the grace of God, for all 63 volumes of
C. H. Spurgeon sermons in Modern English,
and 574 Spanish translations, visit:

www.spurgeongems.org

Coram Deo (April 2017)

The most necessary thing as a Christian parent is the Christian parent’s own life in Christ. That may seem simplistic, but it is fundamental. As Christian parents, our own lives need to be marked by godliness. Godliness manifests itself in various ways, but one of the chief ways is a love for God’s Word. It is a blessed child who is raised by parents who know and treasure Christ according to His Word. A godly mother or father steeped in God’s truth is an effective instrument in the hands of God. —Jason Helopoulos in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: Because of Adam’s sin, we are born corrupt and cannot please God apart from grace. We are wholly dependent on the Lord’s unmerited favor for our salvation and for any of the good works that we do in gratitude for salvation. Let us remember our dependence on God’s grace that we would be moved to great humility and thankfulness.

The gospel seed planted by the fifteenth-century forerunners of the Reformation was watered and tended by the Reformers in the sixteenth century. However, it is in the seventeenth century that we begin to see the full flowering of Reformed doctrine, piety, and practice. During the seventeenth century, so much of what it means to be Protestant and Reformed was codified in the creeds and confessions that we affirm and confess today. —Burk Parsons in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: God could have abandoned all people when Adam fell, leaving us totally under the devil’s domain with no desire to resist him. But the Lord graciously intervened to give His people the will to resist Satan and, even better, God pledged to send the Savior to do all the work needed to save us. Let us thank God for our salvation this day and pray that He would strengthen us against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

The principal rule of interpreting Scripture is that Scripture interprets Scripture. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: How often do we think about the good gift of a stable and predictable natural order? The consistent rhythm of the seasons, the sun and moon, and even the weather enables us to make plans, grow crops, and do a host of other things. Let us thank God for the natural order He has established, and may we use the stability it offers for the sake of His glory.

When we walk into a prayer meeting and hear others praying words of deep affection for our covenant-keeping God, we find ourselves among friends. Each person who is united to Christ, everyone who loves Him and is loved by Him, is also bound together with us in love. Any friend of Jesus is a friend of ours. —Megan Hill in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: What is to be our response to the Abrahamic covenant? It is to forsake any claim to merit that we might think we have and to rest on Christ alone for salvation. We must continually turn to Jesus in faith, repenting of our sin and admitting that we have no merit of our own. Let us trust in Christ this day and exhort others to do so as well.

How we treat God's name reflects how we feel about Him. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: Even after we have trusted in Christ, the law continues to show us our need for Him. If we meditate on God’s commandments, we soon see that we have not kept any of them with our whole heart, mind, soul, or strength. We are driven to our knees in repentance before God. Meditate on one of the Ten Commandments and consider how you have failed to keep it. Then, go before the Lord in repentance.

Well before I could ever articulate a clear theology of the Lord’s Day, I contracted the happy contagion of joyful Sabbath observance. Were there nothing to support a well-spent Lord’s Day but the practical benefits of it, I would still commend this day of rest as an excellent mechanism for promoting our spiritual best. —David Strain in Tabletalk Magazine

How to mortify sin? The first thing to do is: Turn to the Scriptures. Yes, turn to John Owen (never a bad idea!), or to some other counselor dead or alive. But remember that we have not been left only to good human resources in this area. We need to be taught from “the mouth of God” so that the principles we are learning to apply carry with them both the authority of God and the promise of God to make them work. —Sinclair Ferguson

Coram Deo: In addition to making His people righteous before God, Jesus, Son of David and Son of God, also restores to humanity the rule over creation originally given to us in creation. Those who are in Christ by faith will reign with Him over the universe. No matter our present vocation, we who are in Christ have a glorious destiny as corulers with Him over creation. Let us praise Him for showing us such grace.

If nothing can be discerned as true, then what will be destroyed are the norms by which people determine what is good and what is evil. And if we cannot know the good, Socrates said, ethics will disintegrate and civilization will return to barbarianism. —R.C. Sproul in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: The process of God’s writing His law on our hearts begins in this life but is not completed until our glorification. Christians grow slowly but surely in their willingness to obey and to repent for even the smallest sins, and at Christ’s return, the covenant of grace will be consummated in a new heaven and earth where righteousness dwells. Until then we pursue holiness, anticipating that great day to come.

The worst sin against stewardship is to waste your life. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: That nothing in us moved God to choose us for salvation is hard for many people to accept. But Scripture is clear that God chose us only on account of His good pleasure. We cannot take credit in any way for our salvation. We believe only because God first chose us. This should lead us to great humility and to never consider ourselves more highly than we ought.

Even now, the preaching of the gospel testifies that God’s kingdom is here now and that any human being without exception may receive it by faith. This is why the author of Hebrews describes those who profess faith in Christ as having “tasted … the powers of the age to come." From that angle, as to their salvation, Christians have already arrived at their destination. —R. Carlton Wynne in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: The elect get what they do not deserve—salvation—but the reprobate get what they deserve—condemnation. The doctrine of election should not lead us to pride or to consider ourselves inherently holier than others. It should be a continual reminder to us that we are among the worst of sinners and that we are in Christ only because God chooses to love undeserving sinners. May the doctrine of election make us more aware of our sin and the grace of the Lord.

Coram Deo: God’s saving grace is not weak but powerful and effectual to save. It can bring dead souls to life, and since the life that God gives is far more powerful than death, no one to whom saving grace is shown will fail to be regenerated. If God wants to save someone, that person will be saved. No resistance to divine grace can endure. We therefore pray for God to change hearts, knowing that salvation is His powerful work alone.

We live in a fearful world. There’s so much we cannot control. God does not offer us the promise of an easy life or trouble-free existence. He gives us a better promise: Himself. There is nothing greater we could ask for, nothing more that we need. —Melissa B. Kruger in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: It is critical that we know our good works do not and cannot justify us. The very honor of Christ is at stake in this. If we suggest our works are necessary for justification, we are saying what Christ gives us is insufficient, which denigrates His work. By upholding justification by grace alone, we are honoring the Lord Jesus Christ.

More than a year before the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage nationwide, New  York Times columnist Ross Douthat had written that once the decision was handed down, the winning liberal side would “recognize its power.” There would be no negotiation then. “Instead, all that’s left is the timing of the final victory—and for the defeated to find out what settlement the victors will impose.” —Albert Mohler in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: Until we are glorified, the presence of sin remains in us, affecting all that we do. Thus, our obedience cannot merit salvation because none of our obedience is perfect. But God is pleased to accept good works done in Christ and by grace, using them to conform us ever more to the Lord. So, we act and obey, not to earn heaven but because heaven has been earned and secured for us by Jesus.

Our beliefs dictate our behavior. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: Knowing that God will keep us in grace inspires us to work out our salvation, obeying Him as evidence that He is indeed preserving us. And when we see someone apparently fall from grace, that is our cue to pray for that person. We do not know whether God may yet restore that person, and we know that the Lord works through our prayers to accomplish His will.

Protestants did not invent the need for confessions. Over the centuries, the church has always confessed the faith in the midst of confusion or crisis. The role of a creed or confession was never to replace Scripture, but rather to sum up the church’s witness to the truth in Scripture over against error. —Ryan Reeves in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: Sin is a harsh master, leading its slaves finally to death. Christ, however, is a kind master who gives us an easy yoke. His servants will not experience eternal death but eternal life. If we think that we can find freedom and life outside of Christ, we are fooling ourselves, so let us cast aside our sin and look for life only in Jesus. He alone can satisfy us this day and every day.

We always choose according to our greatest inclination at the moment. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: Few would claim the mantle of Pelagius today, but it is a common belief that God’s commands imply our ability to obey. Thus, many people overestimate the degree to which they have kept God’s law. We must have a strong, biblical doctrine of sin, or we will view ourselves more highly than we ought. Are you convinced that you are a sinner and without hope save for the grace of the Lord?

Christians must regularly gather with the church. So says the author of Hebrews (10:25). My own church will excommunicate people who stop attending church altogether. Such discipline is a plea for honesty. Don’t say you belong to the family if you’re never with the family. —Jonathan Leeman in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: Augustinianism and semi-Pelagianism ultimately disagree regarding the power of God’s love and beauty. Is God’s love so effectual and is He so lovely that those to whom He reveals His salvation cannot finally reject Him, or are His love and beauty of a lesser character that cannot convince everyone whom He wants to save? By upholding Augustinian thought, we are powerfully declaring the glorious love and beauty of our Creator.

People who don't believe that prayer matters, or that prayer works, are people who simply don't pray. —R.C. Sproul

Coram Deo: Either God is the source of all good or He is not. If we deny the necessity of grace to do what the Lord considers truly good, then we end up calling into question whether He is the ultimate source of every good thing. It then makes it easy for us to claim the credit for the good that we do. Understanding our fallenness, that we will not seek God without His effectual grace, enables us to worship Him more fervently as the source of every good and perfect gift.

Coram Deo: Passages such as Titus 2:11 are invoked as proof of prevenient grace, but the biblical doctrine of election forces us to reject Arminian and Wesleyan interpretations. When Paul says the grace of God has brought salvation to all people, he must mean God has saved all kinds of people. Salvation is not restricted to one gender, ethnicity, or socioeconomic group, so we must preach the gospel to people of every background.

When the Protestant Reformers turned to Scripture to answer the question as to how God’s intent to save is accomplished, they discovered that if the Lord really wants to save a person, He always succeeds. But this was not an entirely new discovery, for the Reformers were following in the footsteps of Augustine who, following Paul and the other biblical authors, stressed the sovereignty of God’s grace in salvation and the power of God to save all those whom He has chosen for salvation. —From "Grace Alone" in April's Tabletalk Magazine

Coram Deo: The power of God for conversion is in His grace working through the preaching of the gospel (1 Cor. 1:21). We do not have to invent fancy techniques to bring people to faith; we just have to preach God’s Word accurately and trust Him to save His people. Let us put our hope not in methods but in faithfulness to God’s Word.

The fear of man is not simply the fear of the harm that men may do to us. Surely the fear of harm partly drives our desire to be approved by men. However, most properly, the fear of man is, as Bunyan put it, “the fear of losing man’s favor, love, goodwill, help, and friendship.” Simply put, it is “an idol of approval.” —Nicholas Batzig in Tabletalk Magazine

Our time is coming. Remember this the next time you observe a funeral. Take it in and let it sink deep. Yours is coming too. But the day is also coming when the last enemy—death—will be destroyed. The One who was dead and is now alive holds the keys of death. Our death is sure, if Jesus tarries. Do you hear its footsteps behind you? “Do not be afraid”—after death has had its claim on you, you will live on. Death will pass away, but you, Christian, will not. —Aaron Garriott in April's Tabletalk Magazine