Hebrews 1:2 Depths and
Heights
INTENDED FOR READING
ON LORD’S-DAY, AUGUST 13TH, 1899,
DELIVERED
BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN
TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON,
ON
LORD’S-DAY EVENING, MAY 21ST, 1882.
“His Son, whom he
hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; who
being the brightness of his glory, and the express imago of his person and
upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself
purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high.” — Hebrews 1:2
I
Have
nothing to do tonight but to preach Jesus Christ. This
was the old subject of the first Christian ministers: “Daily in the
temple, and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus
Christ.” When Philip went down to the city of Samaria, be “preached
Christ unto them.” When he sat with the Ethiopian eunuch in his chariot,
he “preached unto him Jesus.” As soon as Paul was converted,
“straightway he preached Christ in the synagogues.” For once, we count
the venerableness of our subject well worthy of mentioning. We shall not
be ashamed to preach what the apostles preached, and what martyrs and
confessors preached. We hope to proclaim this glorious gospel of the
blessed God as long as we live; and we hope that, when this generation of
preachers shall have passed away, unless the Lord shall come, there will
be ever found a succession of men who shall determine to preach nothing
“save Jesus Christ and him crucified.”
For, after all, this
is the subject which men most of all need. They may have cravings after
other things, but nothing can satisfy the deep real want of their nature
but Jesus Christ and salvation by his precious blood. He is the Bread of
life which came down from heaven; he is the Water of life whereof, if a
man drink, he shall never thirst again. Hence, it becomes us to be often
dwelling upon this theme, for it is most necessary to the sons of men.
This is the subject which God the Holy Ghost delights to bless. I am sure
that, other things being equal, he honors preaching in proportion to the
savor of Christ that is in it. I may preach a great deal about the Church,
but the Holy Spirit does not take of the things of Christ to glorify the
Church. I may preach doctrine or practice apart from Christ; — that would
be giving the husk without the kernel; — but where Jesus Christ sweetens
all, and savors all, there will the Holy Spirit delight to rest upon the
ministry, and make it quick and, powerful to the conversion of men. And I
am sure, dear friends, that the preaching of Christ is ever sweet in the
ears of his own people. “Thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore
do the virgins love thee.” And this theme is most pleasing to God the
Father, who loves to hear his Son extolled and exalted. He delights in his
Son, and those that delight in him are friends of God. When Jesus Christ
is lifted up, it is as God the Father would have it, it is as the Holy
Ghost would have it; and, where this is the case, we may expect to have
seals to our ministry, and souls for our hire.
I want, at this
time, as it were, to let Jesus Christ speak for himself. I cannot speak
for him as he can speak for himself. Shall I hold my candle to the sun, as
if he needed it in order to reveal his light? No, certainly not; and,
therefore, I shall, with studied plainness, try to set the text itself
before you, and. so to speak of it that you may not so much remember what
I have said of it as that you may remember the subject itself. My theme is
to be the Savior, the only Savior,— the Savior who must save you, or else
you must perish, “for there is none other name under heaven given among
men, whereby we must be saved.” I am about to speak of him, and I think
that all who are aware of the necessity of being saved will only want to
hear about him, and to know how they may get to him, and how he may be
made their Savior; and if they can but be told this, they will be only too
glad to listen.
So, first, I
shall speak of who the Savior is
. Let me read the text to you again: “His
Son,” — God’s Son,— “whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom
also he made the worlds; who being the brightness of his glory, and the
express imago of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his
power.” That is who Jesus is. Then, in the second place, I shall speak of
what Jesus did:
“when he had by himself purged our sins.” Then, thirdly, I want to tell
you what he enjoys
. After he had finished his great work of salvation, he
“sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high.”
—————
I.
It is not
possible that any language can fully express
Who Jesus Is;
yet, by the Holy Spirit’s gracious teaching, I must
tell you what I know of him.
First,
Jesus is God’s own Son
. What do I know about that wondrous truth? If I
were to try to explain it, and to talk about the eternal filiations, I
should but conduct you where I should soon be entirely out of my depth,
and very likely I should drown all that I could tell you in floods of
words. Deity is not to be explained, but to be adored; and the Sonship of
Christ is to be accepted as a truth of revelation, to be apprehended by
faith, though it cannot be comprehended by the understanding. There have
been many attempts made by the fathers of the Church to explain the
relationship between the two Divine Persons, the Father and the Son; but
the explanations had better never have been given, for the figures used
are liable to lead into mistake. Suffice it for us to say that, in the
most appropriate language of the Nicene Creed, Christ is “God of God,
Light of Light, very God of very God.” He is co-equal with the Father;
though how that is, we know not. He stands in the nearest possible
relationship to the Father,— a relationship of intense love and delight,
so that the Father says of him, “This is my beloved Son.” Yes, he is one
with the Father, so that there is no separating them, as he himself said,
in reply to Philip’s request, “Shew us the Father,” “Believe me that I
am in the Father, and the Father in me.”
Let me just pause
here, and say to everyone who is seeking salvation,— What a comfort it
should be to you that he, who is come to save men, is Divine! Therefore,
nothing can be impossible to him. Nay, I do not say merely that he is
Divine; I will go further, and say that he is the Deity itself; Christ
Jesus is God, and being God, there can be no impossibilities or even
difficulties with him. He is able to save you, whoever you may be. Though
you have gone to the very verge of eternal ruin, you cannot have gone
beyond the range of omnipotence; and omnipotence is inherent in the
Godhead. O dear friends, do rejoice in this wondrous truth, he that was a
babe at Bethlehem, was God incarnate! He that, being weary, sat on the
well at Sychar, was God incarnate. He that had not where to lay his head
was God incarnate. And it is he who has undertaken the stupendous labor of
the salvation of men; and, therefore, men may hope and trust in him. We
need not wonder that, when angels heard of Christ’s coming to earth, they
sang, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward
men,” for God had taken upon himself human mesh that he might save the
sons of rien. So, the first words in our text — “His Son”— are full of
good cheer.
Now notice, in
the next place, that Jesus Christ is the
“Heir of all things .” Of which
nature of Christ does the apostle speak in this sentence, “whom he hath
appointed heir of all things”? I do not think that Paul here separates
the two natures, so as to speak with absolute reference to either one or
the other; but he speaks of the person of Christ, and in that person there
is God, and in that same person there is most surely and most truly man.
But we must take this description of Jesus Christ as appointed “Heir of
all things” in his person as man, and as God and man combined; for, as
God alone, Christ is necessarily “Heir of all things” without any
appointment; but in his complex person as God and man conjoined, the
Father has appointed him to be “Heir of all things.”
Now, what does this
mean but that Christ possesses all things as an heir possesses his
inheritance, that Christ is Lord of all things, as an heir becomes lord
and ruler among his brethren. This appointment is to be fully carried into
effect by-and-by; for, “now we see not yet all things put under him.”
Christ is Lord of all the angels; not a seraph spreads his wing except at
the bidding of the “Heir of all things.” There are no bright spirits,
unknown to us, that are beyond the control of the God-man, Christ Jesus;
arid the fallen angels, too, are obliged to bow before his omnipotence. As
for all things here below, material substances, men regenerate or
unregenerate, God has given him power over all mesh that he should give
eternal life to as many as his Father has given him. He has put all things
under his feet, “and the government shall be upon his shoulder.” He is
Heir, or Master, and Possessor of all things; — let me say, of all sorts
of blessings, and all forms of grace, for “it pleased the Father that in
him should all fullness dwell;” and, as surely as time revolves, and you
mark the fleeting minutes upon the dial’s face, the hour is coming when
Christ shall be universally acknowledged as King of kings and Lord of
lords. Already I seem to hear the shouts go up from every part of the
habitable globe, and from all heaven and all space, “Hallelujah! for the
Lord God, omnipotent reigneth.” All must willingly, or else unwillingly,
submit to his sway, for his ’Father hath appointed him “Heir of all
things.”
To my mind, this is
another wondrous encouragement to anyone who is seeking salvation. Christ
has everything in his hand that is needed in order that he may save you,
poor sinner. Sometimes, when a physician has a sick man before him,—
suppose it is on board ship, — he may have to say to him, “I think I
could cure your disease if I could get such-and-such a medicine; but,
unfortunately, I have not the drug within my reach.” Or the doctor might
have to say to the sufferer, “I believe an operation would effect a cure,
but I have not the instrument that is necessary for it.” Never will the
great Physician of souls have to talk like that, for the Father hath
committed all things into his hand, Oh, have we not beheld him as the
glory of the Father, full of grace and truth? You great sinner, you black
sinner, Christ is not lacking in power to save you; and if you come, and
trust yourself in his hands, he will never have to look about to find the
balm for your wounds, or the ointments or liniments with which to bind up
those putrefying sores of yours! No, he is “Heir of all things.” So
again I say, “Hallelujah!” as I preach him to you as the blessed Savior
of sinners, the Son of God, the “Heir of all things.”
Notice, next,
that Jesus Christ is the Creator:
“by whom also he made the worlds.” However
many worlds there are, we know not. It may be true that all those majestic
orbs that stud the midnight sky are worlds filled with intelligent beings;
it is much more easy to believe that they are than that they are not, for,
surely, God has not built all those magnificent mansions, and left them
untenanted. It were irrational to conceive of those myriads of stupendous
world, vastly bigger than this poor little speck in God’s great universe,
all left without inhabitants. But it matters not how many worlds there
are; God made them all by Jesus Christ: “All things were made by him; and
without him was not any thing made that was made.” I see him standing, as
it were, at the anvil of omnipotence, hammering out the worlds that fly
off, like sparks, on every side at each stroke of his majestic arm. It was
Christ who was there,— “the wisdom of God and the power of God,” as Paul
calls him,— creating all things. I love to think that he who created all
things is also our Savior, for then he can create in me a clean heart, and
renew a right spirit within me; and if I need a complete new creation,— as
I certainly do,— he is equal to the task. Man cannot create the tiniest
midge that ever danced in the summer evening’s ray; man cannot create even
a single grain of dust; but Christ created all worlds, so he can make us
new creatures by the wondrous power of his grace. O sinners, see what a
mighty Savior has been provided for you, and never say that you cannot
trust him! I agree with good Mr. Hyatt who, when he was asked on his
death-bed, “Can you trust Christ with your soul?” answered, “If I had a
million souls, I could trust them all with him” And so may you; if you
had as many souls as God has ever created, and if you had heaped upon you
all the sins that men have ever committed, you might still trust in him
who is the Son of God, “whom he hath appointed Heir of all things, by
whom also he made the worlds.”
Now go a little
further, and see what Christ is next called:
the brightness of His Father’s glory
. Shade your eyes, for you cannot look upon this
wondrous sight without being dazzled by it. The Revised Version renders
it, “the effulgence of his glory;” but I do not see much more in that
expression than in the word “brightness.” Some commentators say — and it
is not an ill figure, yet we must not push any figure too far,— that, as
light is to the sun, so is Jesus to the glory of God. He is the brightness
of that glory; that is to say, there is not any glory in God but what is
also in Christ: and when that glory reaches its climax, when God the
Ever-glorious is most glorious, that greatest glory is in Christ. Oh, this
wondrous Word of God,— the very climax of the Godhead,— the gathering up
of every blessed attribute in all its infinity of glory! You shall find
all this in the person of the God-man, Christ Jesus. There is a whole
sermon in those words, “the brightness of his glory;” but I cannot
preach it to-night, because then I should not get through the rest of my
text.
So let us pass on
to the next clause: “ and the express image
of his person .” I said, a
minute ago, “Shade your eyes;” but I might now say, “Shut them,” as I
think of the excessive brilliance described by these words: “the express
image of his person.” Whatever God is, Christ is; the very likeness of
God, the very Godhead of Godhead, the very Deity of Deity, is in Christ
Jesus: “the express image of his person.” Dr. John Owen, who loves to
explain the spiritual meaning in the Epistle to the Hebrews by the types
in the Old Testament, which is evidently what Paul himself was doing,
under the guidance of the Holy Spirit,— explains the brightness of the
Father’s glory by a reference to the Shekinah over the mercy-seat, which
was the only visible token of the presence of God there. An extraordinary
brightness is said to have shone forth from between the cherubim. Now,
Christ is God manifesting himself in his brightness. But, on his forehead,
the high priest wore a golden plate, upon which was deeply engraven, in
Hebrew letters, the inscription, “Holiness to [or of] Jehovah.” Dr. Owen
thinks there is a reference, in this “express image of his person,” —
this cut-out inscription of God, as it were, — to that which was on the
forehead of the high priest, and which represented the glorious wholeness
or holiness of Jehovah, which is his great glory. Well, whether the
apostle referred to this or not, it is for you and me to take off our
shoes from our feet in the presence of Christ, “the brightness of his
Father’s glory, and the express image of his person.” To me, these words
are like the bush in which God dwelt, yet which was not consumed, they are
all on fire; what more shall I say of them?
Now, Christ being
all this that Paul describes, who will dare to turn his back on him? If
this be the Shepherd who has come to seek the lost sheep,— O poor lost
sheep, wilt thou not be found of him? If this be God’s Ambassador, who
comes, clothed in the crimson robe of his own blood, to redeem the sons of
men, who will refuse the peace he brings?
Note yet once
again what Christ is, as I mention the sixth point in the apostle’s
description: “ upholding all things by the
word of his power ,” Just think
of it This great world of ours is upheld by Christ’s word. If he did not
speak it into continued existence, it would go back into the nothingness
from whence it sprang. There exists not a being who is independent of the
Mediator, save only the ever-blessed Father and the Spirit. “By him all
things consist,” that is, continue to hold together. Just as these
pillars uphold these galleries, or as the foundations uphold a house, so
does Jesus Christ “uphold all things by the word of his power.” Only
think of it; those innumerable worlds of light that make illimitable space
to look as though it were sprinkled over with golden dust, would all die
out, like so many expiring sparks, and cease to be, if the Christ who died
on Calvary did not will that they should continue to exist. I cannot bring
out of my text all the wondrous truths that it contains, I only wish I
could; but, surely, if Christ upholds all things, he can uphold me. If the
word of his power upholds earth and heaven, surely, that same word can
uphold you, poor trembling heart, if you will trust him. There need be no
fear about that matter; come and prove it for yourself. May his blessed
Spirit enable you to do so even now!
Where there is so
much sea-room, I might well tarry, but I must hasten on to the next point.
—————
II.
Follow me
with all your ears and hearts while I now speak to you about what Jesus
did.
He who is all
that I have tried to describe, did what? First,
he effectually purged our sins:
“when he had by himself purged our sins.”
Listen to those wondrous words. There was never such a task as that since
time began. The old fable speaks of the Augean stable, foul enough to have
poisoned a nation, which Hercules cleansed; but our sins were fouler than
that. Dunghills are sweet compared with these abominations; what a
degrading task it seems for Christ to undertake,— the purging of our sins!
The sweepers of the streets, the scullions of the kitchen, the cleansers
of the sewers, have honorable work compared with this of purging sin. Yet
the holy Christ, incapable of sin, stooped to purge our sins I want you to
meditate upon that wondrous work; and to remember that he did it before he
went back to heaven. Is it not a wonderful thing that Christ purged our
sins even before we had committed them? There they stood, before the sight
of God, as already existent in all their hideousness; but Christ came, and
purged them, This, surely, ought to make us sing the song of songs. Before
I sinned, he purged my sins away; singular and strange as it is, yet it is
so.
Then, further,
the apostle says that Christ purged our sins
by himself; that is, by offering
himself as our Substitute. There was no purging away of sin, except by
Christ bearing the burden of it, and he did beat it. He bore all that was
due to guilty man on account of his violation of the law of God, and God
accepted his sacrifice as a full equivalent, and so he purged our sins. He
did not come to do something by which our sins might be purged, but he
purged them effectually, actually, really, completely. How did he do it?
By his preaching? By his doctrine? By his Spirit? No “By himself.” Oh,
that is a blessed word! The Revised Version has left it out, but the
doctrine is taught in the Bible over and over again. “Who his own self
bare our sins in his own body on the tree.” “By his own blood he entered
in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.
For if the blood of bulls and of goats. and the ashes of an heifer
sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: how
much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit
offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works
to serve the living God?” He gave himself for us; not only his blood, but
all that constituted himself, his Godhead, and his manhood. All that he
had, and all that he was, he gave as the ransom price for us; can any of
you estimate the value of that price? The acts of one, Divine as he is,
are Divine actions; and there is a weight and force about them that there
could not be about the deeds of the best of men or even of all the holy
angels: “he by himself purged our sins.”
Now, let every
believer, if he wants to see his sins, stand on tiptoe, and look up; will
he see them there? No. If he looks down, will he see them there? No. If he
looks round, will he see them there? No. If he looks within, will ho see
them there? No. Where shall he look, then? Where he likes, for he will
never see them again, according to tlirt ancient promise, “In those days,
and in that time, saith the Lord, the iniquity of Israel shall be sought
for, and there shall be none; and the sins of Judah, and they shall not be
found: for I will pardon them whom I reserve.” Shall I tell you where
your sins are? Christ purged them, and God said, “I will cast all their
sins behind my back.” Where is that? All things are before God. I do not
know where behind God’s back can be. It is nowhere, for God is everywhere
present, seeing everything. So that is where my sins have gone; I speak
with the utmost reverence when I say that they have gone where Jehovah
himself can never see them. Christ has so purged them that they have
ceased to be. The Messiah came to knish transgression, and try make an end
of sin, and he has done it.|
O believer, if he
has made an end of it, then there is an end to it, and what more can there
be of it? Here is a blessed text for you; I love to meditate on it often
when I am alone: “As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he
removed our transgressions from us.” This he did on Calvary’s cross;
there effectually, finally, totally, completely, eternally, he purged all
his people from their sin by talking it upon himself, bearing all its
dreadful consequences, cancelling and blotting it out, casting it into the
depths of the sea, and putting it away for ever: and all this he did “by
himself” It was indeed amazing love that male him stoop to this
purgation, this expiation, this atonement for sin; but, because he was who
and what he was, he did it thoroughly, perfectly. He said, “It is
finished,” and I believe him. I do not — I cannot — for a moment admit
that there is anything to be done by us to complete that work, or anything
required of us to make the annihilation of our sins complete. Those for
whom Christ died are cleansed from all their guilt, and they may go their
way in peace. He was made a curse for us, and there is nothing but
blessing left for us to enjoy.
—————
III.
Now, lastly,
I have to speak of
What Christ Now Enjoys
: “When ’he had by himself purged our sins, he sat
down on the right hand of the majesty on high.” Here again I shall have
to say that I am quite out of my depth; I have waters to swim in, but I am
not a good swimmer in such blessed deeps as these.
There is an allusion
here, no doubt, to the high priest who, on the great day of atonement,
when the sacrifice had been offered, presents himself before God. Now
Christ, our great High Priest, having, once for all, offered himself as
the sacrifice for sin, has now gone into the most holy place, and there he
sits on the right hand of the Majesty on high.
Notice, first,
that this implies rest
. When the high priest went within the veil, he
did not sit down. He stood, with holy trembling, bearing the sacrificial
blood, before the blazing mercy-seat; but our Savior now sits at his
Father’s right hand. The high priest of old had not finished his work; the
next year, another atoning sacrifice would be needed; but our Lord has
completed his atonement, and now, “there remaineth no more sacrifice for
sin,” for there remaineth no more sin to be purged. “Rut this man, after
he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand
of God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool.
For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.”
There he sits, and I am sure he would not be sitting if he had not
finished the salvation of his people. Isaiah long before had been inspired
to record what the Messiah would say, “For Zion’s sake will I not hold my
peace, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until the righteousness
thereof go faith as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that
burneth.” But Christ is resting now; my eye, by faith, can see him
sitting there, so I know that—
Love’s
redeeming work is done;
Fought the fight, the battle won.
Notice, next, that Christ sits in
the place of honor: “on the right
hand of the Majesty on high” Of course, we are talking figuratively
now, and you must not interpret this literally. Jesus site on the right
hand of his Father, he dwells in the highest conceivable honor and
dignity. All the angels worship him, and all the blood-washed host adore
him day without night. The Father delights to honor him.
The highest
place that heaven affords
Is his, is his by right,
The King of kings, and Lord of lords,
And heaven’s eternal light.
Not only does Jesus sit in the place of honor, but
he occupies the place of safety
. None can hurt him now; none can stay his
purposes, or defeat his will. He is at the powerful right hand of God. In
heaven above, and on the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth,
and on every star, he is supreme Lord and Master; and they that will not
yield to him shall be broken with a rod of iron, he shall dash them in
pieces like a potter’s vessel. So his cause is safe; his kingdom is
secure, for he is at the right hand of power.
And, last of all,
Christ at the right hand of God signifies the
eternal certainty of his reward .
It is not possible that he should be robbed of the purchase of his blood.
I tremble when I hear some people talk about the disappointed Christ,— or
about his having died at a peradventure, to accomplish he knew not what,—
dying for something which the will of man might give him if it would, but
it might possibly be denied him. I buy nothing on such terms as that, I
expect to have what I purchase; and Christ will have what he bought with
his own blood; especially as he lives a.gain to claim his purchase. He
shall never be a defeated and disappointed Savior. “He loved the church,
and gave himself for it;” he hath redeemed his loved ones from among men;
and he shall have all those whom he has purchased. “He shall see of the
travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied;” therefore, let us again
say, “Hallelujah!” and fall down and worship him.
It does seem to me
that there is no proof of men’s natural blindness that is so conclusive as
this, that men will not go and trust in Jesus. O sinners, if sin had left
you sane in heart, you would come at once, and fall down at his feet!
There is all power laid. up in Jesus, and there is all the Father’s love
concentrated in Jesus; so come and trust him. If you will but trust him,
you will prove that he has given himself for you. That simple trust is the
secret mark that distinguishes his people from all others. “My sheep bear
my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” To those who rejected him
when he was upon the earth, our Lord said, “Ye believe not, because ye
are not of my sheep, as I said unto you.” O poor souls, do you mean for
ever to wear the damning mark of unbelief? If you die with that brand upon
your soul, you will be lost for ever. Oh, may you have, instead, that
blessed mark of faith which is the token of the Lord’s people! May you
even now hang out the scarlet line as Rahab hung it out of her window,—
the scarlet line of confidence in the crimson blood of Jesus! And while
Jericho falls,— while all the earth shall crumble in one common ruin,—
your house, though built upon the wall, shall stand securely, and not one
who is within its shelter shall be touched by the devouring sword, for all
who are in Christ are in everlasting safety. How can they be otherwise,
since he has purged their sins? God give to every one of you to have a
part and lot among this blessed company, for his dear name’s sake! Amen.
><>><>><>
Hebrews 2:18 Christ's Sympathy with His People
NO. 2885
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, MAY 26TH, 1904,
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON,
ON A LORD’S-DAY EVENING, DURING THE WINTER OF 1861-2.
“For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to
succor them that are tempted.” — Hebrews 2:18.
THAT which is the most simple lesson the gospel has to teach, is often the
most difficult lesson for the Christian to learn. That simple lesson is,
that we must not look to ourselves for anything good, but that we must
look to the Lord alone for all our righteousness. The lesson is short, as
well as simple; it is easy to repeat; but, as often as our faith is
severely tried, we find how apt we are to forget that which is the very
Alpha of the gospel, its rudiments, — That man, in himself, is wholly
lost, and that all his hope of help and salvation must rest on Christ; —
that, apart from God, there is nothing upon which faith can fasten itself;
— and that, without the atoning sacrifice and justifying righteousness of
Christ, the quickening and sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, and the
everlasting love of the Father, there is neither joy, nor peace, nor
comfort, nor hope to be found anywhere. This seems to be a very easy
lesson; yet even aged believers, when their hair is getting grey, and they
are about to enter the land of perfect peace and rest, still find the
temptation to unbelief too much for them, and they begin to look for
something good in the creature, and to seek for happiness in themselves,
instead of seeking all good in God.
I want to try to teach you this lesson again, and also to learn it myself,
for I need to learn it as much as you do, — the lesson of looking away
from our temptations, and from our own weakness and inability to repel
those temptations, to him who, having himself suffered being tempted, “is
able to succor them that are tempted.” Let us fix our eye upon our great
High Priest, and leave Satan and all his insinuations, his blasphemies and
his temptations, out of the question. Or, rather, let us bring them to
Christ, and see them all finished in him. I am going to address three
separate characters that are represented here — first, the confirmed
believer; secondly, the young beginner; and, thirdly, the backslider; and
then, summoning the attention of the whole company here assembled, I shall
try to commend the comfort and instruction of the text to you all.
—————
I. First, let me speak To Advanced Christians.
You all have your trials, and those trials are of an advanced character.
The troubles, with which the plants of God’s right-hand planting are
assailed, when they are saplings, are quite inconsiderable compared with
those which come upon them when they are like cedars firmly rooted. As
surely as our strength increases, so will our sufferings, our trials, our
labors, or our temptations. God’s power is never given to a man to be
stored up unused. The heavenly food, that is sent to strengthen us, like
the manna given to the Israelites in the wilderness, is intended for
immediate use. If the Lord sends you much, you shall have nothing beyond
what you can use for him; though, blessed be his holy name, if you have
but little, you shall have no lack. When the Lord puts upon our feet the
shoes of iron and brass, which he has promised us in his ancient covenant,
he intends that we should wear them, and walk in them, — not that we
should put them into our museum, and gaze upon them as curiosities. If he
gives us a strong hand, it is because, we have a strong foe to fight with.
If he gives us a great meal, — like that which he gave to Elijah, — it is
in order that, in the strength of that meal, we may go for forty days, or
even longer.
Perhaps, my brother or sister, you are, just now, in great trouble. You
have grown in grace, and your troubles have also grown. You feel that you
want someone to whom you can tell your trouble; — your trouble very likely
arises from the absence, of your Lord. Let me remind you that, in this
respect, you are very like the Israelites in the wilderness, when Moses
had been absent from them for forty days. They said, “What shall we do?
Our leader is gone; he, who was king in Jeshurun, has departed from us,
and we are left like sheep without a shepherd.” So they went — I dare not
say that they went for counsel, but they went — to the high priest, and
you remember what they said, and what he did. Alas! he gave them no good
counsel, for he was as unwise as they were, and as untried; he had always
had Moses by his side ever since the day that the Lord had said, “Is not
Aaron the Levite thy brother?... He shall be to thee instead of a mouth,
and thou shalt be to him instead of God.” Aaron had never been left
without his great leader; so, in his absence, he miserably failed, and led
the people in the making and worshipping of the golden calf. How different
it will be with you, who mourn the loss of the light of your Lord’s
countenance, if you go to our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ! He
knows the meaning of your present trial, for he had once to cry, “My God,
my God, why hast thou forsaken me? “You tell him that your “soul is
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death,” and he tells you that it was so
with him also, on that night in which he was betrayed, when, “being in an
agony, he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops
of blood falling down to the ground.” No untried priest is he; he can
sympathize, and he can succor.
Take another case, that of Hannah, the “woman of a sorrowful spirit.”
She was in a peculiarly trying position. Her husband’s other wife had
children, but she had none; though she was greatly beloved of her husband,
her adversary vexed her sorely to make her fret. Day by day, this was
thrown in her teeth, that, because of some sin, God had not granted her
the desire of her heart. A trial in one’s own house is one of the saddest
places where it can come; the saddest, perhaps, with the exception of a
thorn in the flesh, which comes still closer home. So poor Hannah, having
that trial at home, thought she would go up to the sanctuary in Shiloh.
There, she “prayed unto the Lord, and wept sore, and she vowed a vow.”
But “she spake in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice was not
heard.” So Eli, the high priest, thought that she was drunken; and,
instead of comforting and consoling her, he spoke harshly to her,
depressed and broken as her spirit was. You, my brethren, and you, my
sisters, too, may have some trouble which you dare not tell to another,
though it is sorely vexing you, and threatens even to break your heart.
But when you go to the great High Priest, he will understand all about
you, he will not need you to explain your sorrow to him, for he knows
exactly what it is, and he will apply the healing balm to your sorrowful
spirit, and send you on your way full of peace and comfort.
I offer, then, to you, who are advanced believers, this very comforting
reflection, — in Christ’s sufferings, you are quite certain to find
something akin to your own; and, in Christ’s heart, you are quite sure to
find a deep well of divine sympathy; so you need not hesitate to go to
him, or doubt that his loving heart will overflow with sympathy towards
you, whatever your trial may be.
But, more than that, while I would console you by reminding you that
Christ has suffered even as you have, I would also comfort you with the
reflection that, this very day, he still suffers with you. Suppose, now,
that a man could be so high in stature that his head could be in heaven
while his feet were on earth, yet, whenever his feet suffered, his head
would suffer, too. In the Canticles, the spouse says of her Heavenly
Bridegroom, “His head is as the most fine gold,... his legs are as
pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold.” As John saw him, “in
the isle that is called Patmos,” “his eyes were as a flame of fire; and
his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace.” This
suggests to me a parable; the feet of Christ, which form His Church on
earth, still glow “as if they burned in a furnace.” The glorious Head of
the Church, up in heaven, “is as the most fine gold,” but there is not
the least glow of heat, in the feet on earth, which is not felt by the
Head in heaven. There is not a pang, that rends your heart, which Jesus
does not feel. There is not a sorrow, that cuts deeply into your soul,
which does not also cut into his; so you can still sing, —
“He feels at his heart all our sighs and our groans
For we are most
near him, his flesh and his bones;
In all our
distresses our Head feels the pain,
They all are most
needful, not one is in vain.”
Does it not comfort you to know that Christ can sympathize with you, and
that he must sympathize with you; can, because he has suffered; must,
because he suffers still?
I may also add, for your comfort, that all this — Christ’s suffering as
you do, and his suffering with you, must tend to shield you in your
trials. A country minister, preaching upon the text, “Is there no balm in
Gilead; is there, no physician there?” made the remark that Christ is a
good Physician. “Ah!” said he, “Christ is not like those doctors, who
come and say they are sorry for you, whereas, in their hearts, they are
glad you are ill; for, if you and others were not ill, there would be no
work for them. Or else,” said the preacher, “they look down upon you,
and pity you, but not half as much as if they themselves had your
complaint, and felt all the pains that you are feeling. “But suppose,”
he added, “that the doctor had all your pains himself, — suppose you had
the headache, and that he looked down on you, and had your headache;
suppose, when you had palpitation of the heart, he had palpitation of the
heart, too; — why, he would be very quick to cure you; certainly, he would
not let you lie there a moment longer than was necessary, because he
himself would be suffering with you.” Now, there is just one objection
that may be made to the countryman’s argument, — that is, that the
physician might be willing to raise the patient up at once, because he was
himself suffering with him; yet he might say, “Here are two of us in the
same plight, but my skill fails me here. If I could deliver you, you can
well imagine that I would gladly do so, for, in so doing, I should deliver
myself as well; but, alas! it is beyond my power, I cannot lighten your
burden, nor my own; we can only sit down together, and mingle our tears,
but we cannot assist one another.”
But it is not so with the good Physician, for he has both the will and the
power to heal us. One motion of that eternal arm, and every cloud, that is
wrapped about the sky, shall be folded up, like a worn-out vesture, and
cast away. Jesus speaks, and the boisterous billows cease their raging,
and the wild winds are hushed to sleep. “Let there be light,” saith he;
and, over the thick darkness of our affliction and adversity, comes the
bright gleam of joy and prosperity He did but lift up his voice, and
“kings of armies did flee apace.” O Jesus, our Lord, when thou comest
forth for the deliverance of thy people, who can stand before thee? As the
wax melteth before the fire, and as the fat of rams is consumed upon thine
altar, so do our trials and troubles melt and vanish away when thou comest
forth for the deliverance of thy people! Remember, believers, that you not
only have the love of Christ’s heart, but you also have the strength of
Christ’s arm at your disposal. He ruleth over all things, in heaven, and
earth, and hell, so rest in him, for still he bears the scars of his
wounds to show that he has suffered even as you do. Still doth he prove
himself to be man, seeing that he suffers with you; yet is he also “very
God of very God,” into whose hand all power in heaven and earth is
committed. He can, he must, he will deliver his people, and bring them out
of all their trials into his eternal kingdom and glory.
—————
II. Secondly, I am going to speak To Anxious Enquirers And Young
Beginners.
I hear a plaintive voice, over yonder, saying to me, “I know, sir, that
the precious blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin;
and I know that, the moment I believe in him, I have nothing to fear
concerning the past, for that sin is blotted out, once for all; but my
fear is that, if I commence a Christian life, it will not last long. I am
afraid I shall be like Pliable, and turn back at the Slough of Despond; or
if my neighbors jeer at me, I fear that I shall be ashamed to go forward
in spite of their opposition. Even if I get over that, I feel that I
cannot trust my own evil heart, which is so apt to deceive me. If old
temptations should be overcome, new ones will be sure to arise, and I
cannot help fearing as to what will become of me. I have seen some, who
made a fair show in the flesh, turn back, and go straight to perdition;
and I tremble lest it should be so with me also. How can I hope to
withstand the imperious lusts which were too strong for me when first they
allured my simple heart? How much more shall they be too mighty for me now
that sin has gathered the force of habit, and practice, like an iron net,
has enfolded me in its cruel grip? When I was a youth, I could not stand
against this great enemy of my soul; how then, shall I be a match for him
now that I have grown old and feeble? The old Adam will be too strong for
the young Melancthon.
Well, dear friends, I have seen some persons, who have been truly
converted to God, who have been greatly troubled with this fear. Indeed,
in some instances, I have even known of poor men kneeling down, and
praying that God would let them die, there and then, sooner than that they
should live to prove that their feelings were only a delusion, and that
their supposed repentance was merely a passing excitement. Some of us can
fully sympathize with those who pray such a prayer as that, for we have
often felt that the most terrible death would be preferable to the
disgrace of bringing dishonor upon the name of Jesus by turning back to
the City of Destruction after we had once started for the Celestial City.
But, my dear friend, if the Lord has begun a good work in thy soul, and
led thee to trust in Jesus as thy Savior, my text will just meet that fear
of thine, for the apostle here says that Christ “is able to succor them
that are tempted.” You will be tempted, — I will not delude you with the
notion that you will not; — and you cannot, by yourself, stand up against,
that temptation; but Christ, “in that he himself hath suffered being
tempted, is able to succor them that are tempted.” This truth we set
before you as a shield against all these dark, mysterious thoughts; —
Christ can, and he will, if you trust in him, protect you from the sin and
the temptation which you rightly dread.
“But how is this to be done?” asks someone. Well, first of all, Christ
can do it by the force of his own example. He can show you as he has done
in his Word; but he can show you, by his Spirit that Word, how he was once
subject to just the same temptation that now assails you. Are you poor,
and are you tempted to use wrong means to get rich? Christ can tell you
how, in the wilderness, “when he had fasted forty days, and forty nights,
he was afterwards an hungred,” and Satan came to him, and said, “If thou
be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread.” Are you a
man in a high position, and are you tempted to do some daring and reckless
deed? Christ can remind you how, when he was on a pinnacle of the temple,
Satan said to him, “If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down.” Or do
you seem, just now, to have great power within your reach if you will but
stain your hand to grasp is? Christ can tell you how Satan showed him all
the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, and said to him, “All
these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”
Then he will remind you how he passed through all these ordeals without
sin, for the prince of this world could find nothing in him to respond to
his temptations. He was tried and tested again and again, but no trace of
alloy could be discovered even by the devil himself. Though he was often
shot at by his great adversary, he was never wounded by the fiery shafts;
so, inspired by his glorious example, you may say, —
“Through floods and flames if
Jesus lead I’ll
follow where he goes.”
You not only have Christ’s example to keep you from sin, but you also have
his presence. Do you know what this means? Let me give you an instance of
it. There was a certain merchant, who had been, again and again, tempted
to an act of sin. It was the usual custom in his trade, everybody else did
it; but he knew that it was wrong, and his soul revolted against it. As he
sat in his countinghouse, he saw, pictured before his mind’s eye, his wife
homeless, and his children crying for bread; and the demon whispered to
him, “Do it; do it.” Then another picture flitted before his eyes, — he
and his wife and children were rich, their home was filled with good
things, and again the adversary said, “Do it; do it.” He saw the
advantages that were to be gained by doing it, but he went home, and
pondered the whole matter. His soul was heavy, and a stern struggle was
proceeding within him. Then he went to his chamber, and shut himself in
alone, and, falling upon his knees, told out all his difficulty and
temptations to his Father in heaven. Then, suddenly, not before his eyes,
but to faith’s inner eye, there appeared a vision of the crucified Christ,
who showed him his pierced hands, and feet, and side, and then said to
him, “He that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy
of me Thou hast not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” The
merchant, fixing his tearful eyes upon his Savior, remembered Paul’s
words, “Consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against
himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds;” he came down from
his bedroom, his soul was glad, for his mind was made up, and he said to
himself, “I will not do it; I can be poor, but, I cannot sin.” Others
marked the man, and wondered at the change in his appearance. He walked
erect, no longer like one bowed down beneath a heavy burden. Many men
marvelled at him, and asked what had happened to him, but none could tell.
The secret was, that the crucified Christ had appeared to him, and had
given him the support of his divine presence. That was sufficient to
succor him in the time of temptation, for Christ, having himself suffered
being tempted, was able to succor his faithful follower when he also was
tempted.
I know that I am addressing someone, who, says, — I will use, as far as
possible, his own words, — ”Look here, sir; I have always been in the
habit of being a jolly fellow, meeting with a number of boon companions to
drink, and chat, and sing, and so on. I do not know that we did very much
amiss; but, still, I could not do it again if I became a Christian.
Suppose, now, that I should be invited to join the same company to-morrow;
— I am not sure what I might do, I might refuse their invitation; — but if
I were asked again and again, and they jeered at me for refusing, I might
give in. Suppose that I did not yield, there is another difficulty. I have
been a man of such-and-such a character, and have formed such-and-such
habits; now, how in the world am I to overcome those habits? How am I to
become a Christian, and to continue so to the end?”
These are very proper questions, and I answer, — You are utterly helpless,
apart from him who is able to succor them that are tempted; but if you
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, he will give you a new nature. That new
nature, it is true, will not at once cast out the old nature; your old
nature will still be there, but the new nature will struggle against it;
and, ultimately, through the effectual working of the Holy Spirit, the new
nature will prevail over the old nature, and you will be “a new creature
in Christ Jesus;” old things will have passed away, and all things will
have become new. You will say, as a young convert did, when he came to
join the church, “I don’t know which it is, but either everything else is
changed, or else I am.” It was in himself, of course, that the great
change had been wrought, but that changed the aspect of everything else.
Let me give you a little parable to illustrate this point. A lion and a
tiger used, frequently, to roam the forests together, in search of prey
that might satisfy their bloodthirsty appetites. But, one day, an angel
came, touched the lion, and changed him into a lamb. The next day, the
tiger came, and wanted the lion to go with him to his feast of blood. Do
you think it was difficult for him to refuse the invitation? Oh, no! “I
have no inclination to go,” said he. The tiger laughed scornfully, and
said, “Aha! you have become pious, have you? Now you will go to the
sheepfolds, and sneak behind the shepherds’ heels, — you that were once so
brave!” And the tiger despised him, and said, “You are miserable to be
thus tied up like a dog, and not to dare to come and do as we have always
done.” “Nay,” said the lion, “it is not that I dare not go with you,
but I have no wish to go. I am not miserable because I cannot go with you
on such an errand, — I should to miserable if I did go. The fact is, I
cannot now do what I once did, for I am not what I once was. My new nature
has brought me new loves, new hatreds, new preferences, new pursuits, so I
cannot go with you on your bloodthirsty expedition.”
If God has wrought a similar change in you, and transformed the lion into
a lamb, and the raven into a dove, it will not be difficult for you to be
kept from sin, for you will hate sin with, perfect hatred, and have no
fellowship with it; and, besides that, as your nature will be renewed, day
by day, by the Holy Spirit, with a constant infusion of everything that is
good, and gracious, and Godlike, do you not see that sin shall no longer
be like a strong spear to pierce you, but as a fragile reed which shall
snap against the armor of proof which your soul shall wear?
Let me remind you, who are thinking of going upon pilgrimage, but are
afraid of the lions and the dragons in the way, that he, unclear whose
banner you hope to enlist, never suffered one soldier, who was in his
service, to perish. If you become a sheep under the care of the good
Shepherd, remember that —
“His honor is engaged to save
The meanest of
his sheep.”
If you are a mariner, bound for the Fair Havens of eternal felicity,
recollect that the Lord High Admiral of the seas of providence and grace
has safely convoyed into port every vessel that has yet been committed to
his charge; not one has ever been wrecked or lost in any way. Trust
yourself to his protection and guidance, and he will bring you also in
safely. What if your temper be, naturally, furious? What if your evil
propensities have been indulged until they have become as giants holding
you in cruel captivity? What if your passions boil, and burn, and blaze,
like Vesuvius in eruption? What if your temptations should come upon you
as the Philistines came upon Samson? He, to whom you commit the keeping of
your soul, shall make you master over all; and you shall yet be, with the
great multitude whom no man can number, more than conqueror through him
who hath loved you. Oh, that the Holy Spirit would constrain many of you,
straightway, to leave your old master, and to enter the service of the
Savior! You will never find a better master than the Lord Jesus Christ.
“All!” said a sailor, seventy years of age, who had heard a sermon that
had deeply affected him, and, I trust, had been the means of renewing his
nature, “I am going to haul down my old flag to-day. I have sailed under
the colors of the Black Prince all these years, but they are coming down
to-day; and I am going to run up the blood-red cross in their place, and I
hope to sail under that flag until I die.” So may it be with many of you!
Say, “O Satan, we have served thee far too long! Miserable is thy
service, despicable are thy ways, degrading is our position, and awful
must be our end if we remain in thy power.” Then turn to the Lord, and
appeal to him. Say, “O God, help us! We cry to thee. Bring us, we pray
thee, from under the tyrant’s sway. Help us to yield ourselves up to thee
this very hour. Take our hearts, black as they are, and wash them in the
precious blood of Jesus Christ, thy well-beloved Son. Change the hearts of
stone into hearts of flesh. Make us to be thy servants while we live, and
to enter into thy rest and thy glory when we die.”
I have thus, I hope, spoken somewhat to the comfort of young beginners and
anxious enquirers.
—————
III. Now, in the third place, I am going to speak briefly To
Backsliders.
Where art thou, backslider? I cannot pick thee out; but there is an eye
that sees thee, and that weeps over thee. Ten years ago, you used to sit
down at the communion table; twenty years ago, you were a reputable member
of the church; but you fell, and, oh, what a fall was yours! Since that
time, you have not wholly forsaken the house of God, though you have
wandered hither and thither; but you have never dared to call yourself a
Christian again. You lost the light of God’s countenance long ago, and you
find the service of Satan very hard, yet you think you must go downward to
despair. You feel that you are in the iron cage of which Bunyan wrote, and
you fear that you will never get out of it. Poor backslider, I cannot
mention thy name without a tear; and if I, a fellow-creature, thus weep
over thee, much more does that compassionate Savior, who suffered being
tempted, and who is able to succor them that are tempted.
Hark! If you will but incline your ear, you may hear a note that will
cheer your heart, and yet break it, too! ’Tis God who speaks, and he is
having a controversy with himself over you. Justice says, “Destroy him;”
but Mercy says, “Spare him.” The very gospel, which thou hast despised,
witnesses against thee; but, at the same time, pleads for thee. The Lord
still says to backsliders, as he did to his ancient people when they
wandered from him, “Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord, for I
am married unto you.” “Married unto you!” This marriage bond cannot be
broken; thou hast played the harlot, and gone after many lovers; but thy
first husband hates putting away, and even now invites thee to return to
him. So, —
“To thy Father’s bosom pressed,
Once again a
child confessed
From his house no
more to roam,
Come, O poor
backslider, come!”
I may even be
addressing some, who once drank from the cup of communion, but who have
turned aside to drink the cup of devils. I may be speaking to some, to
whom, for years, the Sabbath has been a day for business instead of a day
for worship. Yet you could never get the sound of the Sabbath bell out of
your ears; and, even now, you cannot forget the profession you once made,
nor the joys you once knew; and you cannot be easy in your sins. There is
a spark of heavenly fire that still lingers within you, and it will not
die out, even though you seek to quench it that it may not hinder you from
going after your lusts. That is God’s grip still upon you; oh, that I
might be his ambassador of peace, to fling wide the doors of his mercy to
you! Poor prodigal, thou art clad in rags; the sty is thine only
sleeping-place, and the swine thine only companions; thou wouldst fain
fill thy belly with the husks that they eat: but thou must not, for thou
art a God-made man, and swine’s food can never satisfy thee. As thou
standest here, perhaps there is a tear trickling down thy cheek because of
the many years that thou hast spent in sin, and thou art saying, “I would
arise, and go unto my Father, but I fear that he has forgotten me.” Oh,
say not that! But do as the prodigal did; arise, and come unto thy Father,
for he will give the such a reception as the prodigal received. You shall
have the kiss of forgiveness upon your brow, the best robe of your
Savior’s perfect righteousness shall be cast all around you, the ring of
everlasting love shall be placed upon your finger, the shoes of peace
shall be fitted to your feet, you shall eat the fat things of the promises
of God, there shall be music in your ears, music in your house, music on
earth, and music in heaven itself, because he that was dead is alive
again, he that was lost is found.
This should be your consolation: “In that he himself hath suffered being
tempted, he is able to succor them that are tempted.” Did I hear you say,
“But I cannot see how Christ was ever in the same position that I am in,
for he was never a backslider”? That is quite true; but what are your
trials? First, you are tried by the burden of sin that is resting upon
you; and Christ had the sins of all his people resting upon him, so he
knows what that burden means. Next, you are tried by the loss of the light
of God’s countenance; so was he, for he cried, “My God, my God, why hast
thou forsaken me?” Then, you say that you have lost all your friends; so
had he, for, in his time of trial, “they all forsook him, and fled.” You
say, also, that you are despised, that you are the subject of the song of
the drunkard and the mirth of the mocker; so was he, for he could truly
say, “Reproach hath broken mine heart.” So Christ can sympathize — not
with your sin, for he never had any of his own, — but with your sorrow,
which is the consequence of sin, for he had to bear all that before you
did.
—————
IV. Now I have to close by speaking To The Whole Assembly.
I think I might liken you, on a large scale, to that little band of
pilgrims, — Christiana, and Mercy, and Matthew, and James, and the rest of
them who started from the City of Destruction, — who, when they came to
the Interpreter’s House, were put under the escort of Mr. Greatheart. I am
not Mr. Greatheart; — I am but one of the children; — but our great Savior
is Mr. Greatheart, and he is going with us all the way to the Celestial
City. We are but like those boys and girls, and we are afraid of what we
may meet on the road. There are lions in the way; but Mr. Greatheart can
kill them, or restrain them from hurting us. There is Apollyon in the
valley, but our Greatheart is more than a match for the arch-fiend. We
shall have to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, yet each one
of us shall be able to say, “I will fear no evil, for thou art, with
me.” We shall have to go through the Enchanted Ground; but, as Christ
will be with us, we shall not fall asleep there to our grievous hurt. We
shall have to go through Vanity Fair, and to bear the jeer and the jibe of
the mocking mob, but we can bear all that, for we shall have our great
Captain with us. But, — and here comes the dark thought to some, — we
shall at last come to the dark river without a bridge. Mr. Greatheart —
whom Bunyan meant to be the minister, had to go through the stream with
the rest; but when we come to the river, our Mr. Greatheart, Christ
himself, — will go through the river with each one of us. He will put his
almighty arm around us; and when we get where our feet cannot feel the
bottom, he will say to each one of us, “When thou passest through the
waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not
overflow thee.” To die with Jesus is better even than living with him
except that higher style of living with him beyond the river of death, for
—
“Jesus can make
a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on his breast I lean my head
And breathe my life out sweetly there.”
In this sense, our
text shines like a cluster of stars. Jesus died, Jesus rose again; in that
he died, he can sympathize; in that he rose again, he can succor. Lay hold
of this text whenever you think of death with any gloomy cast in your
mind; and let us go on our way, each one singing, —
“Since Jesus is mine, I’ll not fear undressing
But gladly put off this garment of clay;
To die in the Lord is a covenant blessing,
Since Jesus to glory through death led the way.”
><>><>><>
Hebrews 2:18
The Suffering Savior's
Sympathy
NO. 1974
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
“For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succor
them that are tempted.” — Hebrews 2:18.
WE are told by the apostle in the fifth chapter that one special requisite
in a high priest was that he could have compassion upon men. “For every
high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining
to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins: who can have
compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that
he himself also is compassed with infirmity.” You see God did not choose
angels to be made high priests; because, however benevolent they might be
in their wishes, they could not be sympathetic. They could not understand
the peculiar wants and trials of the men with whom they had to deal.
Ministers who of God are made to be a flame of fire could scarce commune
familiarly with those who confess themselves to be as dust and ashes. But
the high priest was one of themselves. However dignified his office, he
was still a man. He was one of whom we read that he could lose his wife,
that he could lose his sons. He had to eat and to drink, to be sick and to
suffer, just as the rest of the people did. And all this was necessary
that he might be able to enter into their feelings and represent those
feelings before God, and that he might, when speaking to them for God, not
speak as a superior, looking down upon them, but as one who sat by their
side, “a brother born for adversity,” bone of their bone, and flesh of
their flesh.
Now this is peculiarly so in the case of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is
sympathetic above all. There is none so tender as he. He has learnt it by
his sufferings; but he proves it by his continual condescension towards
his suffering people. My brethren, we that preach the gospel, you that
teach it in the Sabbath-school — you will always find your greatest power
to lie in love. There is more eloquence in love than in all the words that
the most clever rhetorician can ever put together. We win upon men not so
much by poetry and by artistic wording of sentences, as by the pouring out
of a heart’s love that makes them feel that we would save them, that we
would bless them, that we would, because we belong to them, regard them as
brethren, and play a brother’s part, and lay ourselves out to benefit
them. Now, as it should be in the under-shepherds, so is it in that Great
Shepherd of the sheep. He abounds in tenderness, and though he has every
other quality to make up a perfect high priest, though he is complete, and
in nothing lacking, yet if I must mention one thing in which he far
outshines us all, but in which we should all try to imitate him, it would
be in his tender sympathy to those who are ignorant and out of the way,
and to all those who are suffering and sorely distressed.
It is in the spirit of brotherly sympathy that I would endeavor to preach
on this occasion as the Good Spirit shall help me. May I ask my brethren
whose hearts are full of joy at this hour to be praying for others who
have not that joy, and to be helping me in my endeavor now to speak words
of consolation to them? May the Holy Spirit, in answer to your prayers,
make every sentence to be as wine and oil to the wounds of those who are
left half dead in the King’s highway! We have not to look far for “them
that are tempted,” for they are all around us, and deserve the thoughtful
regard of each one of us. Do not overlook them, my more happy brother,
“considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.”
In my text I think I see two things very clearly. Jesus suffering: “He
himself hath suffered being tempted.” Jesus succoring: “He is able to
succor them that are tempted.” And then I think I see a third thing most
certainly there, namely, Jesus sought after: because in the word which is
translated “succor” there is a latent meaning of crying. He is able to
hear the cry of them that are tempted. It is a word that signifies a
mother’s quickness to answer her child’s cry; and Jesus is able to answer
to our cry, therefore we ought to lift up that cry when our soul is in
distress. It shall be the best thing seen in this Tabernacle to-night if
the third thing be seen, namely, Jesus sought after by every weary,
heavy-laden spirit. Why should it not be? Come, Holy Spirit, and create in
each mourner the spirit of prayer and the grace of supplication!
—————
I. First, then, and to begin, here is Jesus Suffering.
I call your attention, first, to the feeling that is here expressed: “in
that he himself hath suffered being tempted.” Many persons are tempted,
but do not suffer in being tempted. When ungodly men are tempted, the bait
is to their taste, and they swallow it greedily. Temptation is a pleasure
to them; indeed, they sometimes tempt the devil to tempt them. They are
drawn aside of their own lusts and enticed; so that temptation, instead of
being suffering to them, becomes a horrible source of pleasure. But good
men suffer when they are tempted, and the better they are the more they
suffer. I know some children of God to whom temptation is their constant
misery day and night. If it took the form of external affliction, they
would bravely bear it; but it takes the shape of evil suggestions and
profane insinuations, which leap into their minds without their will, and
though they hate them with their whole heart. These suggestions continue
to annoy some dear saints whom I know, not only daily, but nightly, and
that month after month. These thoughts beset them as a man may be
surrounded by swarms of midges or flies, from which he cannot get away.
Such brethren are tempted, and they suffer being tempted. Our Lord Jesus
Christ enters into this trying experience very fully; because his
suffering through being tempted must have been much greater than any
suffering that the purest-hearted believer can know, seeing that he is
more pure than any one of us.
It was a trying thing to the Blessed Christ even to dwell here among men.
He behaved himself with most condescending familiarity, but he must have
been greatly sickened and saddened by what he saw in this world of
sinners. They were no fit company for him, for their views of things and
his were as different as possible, and they had no points of agreement in
character with him. They were as much company for him as a patient may be
to a surgeon; nay, not so much as an imbecile may be to his teacher, or as
a madman to his keeper: they could not come much closer until his grace
changed and renewed them. Our Lord and Master had such a delicate
sensitiveness of soul with regard to holiness, that the sight of sin must
have torn him as a naked man would be torn by thorns, and thistles, and
briers. There was no callousness about his nature. He had not made himself
familiar with sin by the practice of it, as many have done; neither had he
so associated with those who indulge in evil as to become himself lenient
towards it. We inherit the customs of our ancestors, and do not raise
questions about that which has been commonly done: we begin at an evil
point, and start from a wrong point in morals; but it was not so with our
Lord; he had no original, or inherited, or birth sin; neither did he learn
evil in his bringing up. We also commit sin through a comparative
ignorance of its evil, but he knew the horror of it: he felt within his
soul the shame, the wrong, the inherent baseness of sin against a holy law
and a loving God. His infinite knowledge helped him to understand and
measure the heinousness and hell-desert of it; and hence, to be in contact
with it must have been a perpetual sorrow to him. He suffered in being
placed where he could be tempted.
When sin actually assailed him, and he was bidden to prove his Sonship by
working a miracle to feed himself, thus anticipating his Father’s
providence by a hasty act of self-seeking, how he must have loathed the
suggestion! When Satan bade him presumptuously cast himself down from the
temple’s pinnacle, how he must have smarted at the horrible proposal! When
the tempter hissed into his ear that abominable offer, “All these things
will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me,” it must have
grieved the holy heart of Jesus most intensely. He could not yield to
temptation, but he did suffer from it. He did not suffer from it morally,
he was too pure for that; but he did suffer from it mentally because of
his purity. His mind was grieved, and vexed, and troubled by the
temptation that he had to bear. We specially see this when we find him in
the garden. There he showed his grief when he sweat as it were great drops
of blood falling to the ground. In many other ways he endured such
contradiction of sinners against himself, such multiplied temptations,
that it is said, and truly said, by the Holy Ghost in this verse; that he
“suffered “being tempted.
Now, then, you poor creatures who can scarcely lift up your heads because
of shame as you tremble at the memory of your own thoughts, come hither,
and meet with One who suffered being tempted! He knows how you are hunted
by hell-dogs, go where you may: he knows that you cannot escape the
presence of the tempter, and from his own experience he enters into your
feelings to the full. He gives you a flood of sympathy in these deep
distresses of your spirit, as you fight against Apollyon and agonize
against temptation, for he suffered being tempted.
“Exposed to wounds most deep and sore,
The great Redeemer
stood
While Satan’s fiery
darts he bore,
And did resist to
blood.”
Let us meditate for a while upon the fact that our Lord was tempted,
tempted up to the suffering point. I must not omit to mention the
particular use here made by the Spirit of that word himself. It is not
only in that he suffered being tempted, but you see that he himself hath
suffered being tempted. That word is sometimes used to make passages
emphatic. “Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree.”
We read again and again of Jesus Christ himself, as if to show that the
matters referred to were really, truly, personally, actually his. He
himself hath suffered. All that there was in him, that made up himself,
suffered being tempted. Survey this fact carefully. Our Lord was tempted
by his circumstances, just as you are; yea, more than many of you are; for
he felt the woes of poverty, and poverty at times carried to the extreme.
“Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of
man hath not where to lay his head.” You are sometimes tempted with the
thought that you will be out of house and home before long. Where will you
find a nightly shelter? Jesus can sympathize with you. He also was weary
with incessant labors. “Being wearied, he sat thus on the well.”
Weariness has its temptations. He that is weary is hardly in the condition
to judge rightly of things. When we are weary, we are apt to be impatient,
complaining, hasty. If you are weary, and can scarcely keep your eyelids
from dropping down, remember before you quite yield to fatigue that your
Lord was weary too. Once “they took him even as he was into the ship”;
and I think it must mean that he was too weary to go into the ship
himself, so that they took him in his absolute exhaustion, and gently laid
him down, in the hinder part of the ship, placing his head upon a pillow.
Do not blame yourself for feeling tired in the house of prayer, if after
long watching or hard working you feel more fit for a sleep than for a
sermon. I shall not blame you, certainly, for I remember how little my
Lord blamed the disciples when they fell asleep in the garden during his
agony. He said, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak”;
and he never would have thought of so tender an excuse for the
