Psalms - Collection of Commentaries Part 1

Psalm 45:5 The King's Sharp Arrows
 

NO. 3039
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, MAY 9TH, 1907,
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
ON LORD’S-DAY EVENING, JANUARY 16TH, 1870.

“Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies; whereby the people fall under thee.” — Psalm 45:5.

WHEN our Lord Jesus Christ is represented as a King, we delight to think of him as the Prince of Peace, whose dominion shall put an end to all war, and make it unnecessary for the nations of the earth to learn the arts of war any longer. Meanwhile, however, in this present state, evil is in the world; sin is all round us, and thus sin is the curse of mankind. Christ, therefore, for our good, is a fighting King, combating evil, and contending against sin in every form and shape; and, in that aspect, we regard him as standing in his glorious war-chariot, riding through the world in the power of his gospel, smiting right and left, with the great sword of the Spirit, and, at the same time, shooting his sharp arrows of gospel-truth to the very ends of the earth. The truth of God is the weapon that Christ uses. The weapons of his warfare are not carnal any more than are ours. The truth is his sword, and the truth is his arrow.

There are some truths which Jesus Christ proclaims in the gospel, and which he bids us also proclaim, which are like sharp arrows, wounding, piercing, killing, and of these I am about to speak, hoping and trusting that those arrows may, in all their sharpness, pierce all hearts that have not felt them yet, and that where they go, they may kill sin; and that then, he may come in to heal who has wounded them, and to give life to those whom he has slain.

First, we shall ask and answer the question, what are those truths which are like sharp arrows? Secondly, why are they arrows? And thirdly, how come they to stick fast in human hearts?

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I. First, then, What Are Those Truths Which Are Sharp As Arrows In The Hearts Of Men?

There are many of them, but I shall only mention such as are most usually felt when men are convinced of sin. One arrow that is always sharp is this, the spirituality and holiness of the law of God. Many men read the law of the ten commandments, or hear it read in their churches on the Sabbath, but they do not know that that law means a great deal more than the mere words seem to convey. For instance, it is written, “Thou shalt not commit adultery;” but, Christ tells us that, even though no act, of unchastity be committed, the very thought of it is condemned, and he who indulgeth an unclean look hath broken the command already. The law of God not only deals with the overt acts, but also with desires, and even with those imaginations which scarcely amount to desires, in which a man pictures the sin, and feels a pleasure in the picture, though he has not actually committed the sin. Now, when a man comes to understand in his heart, as well as to hear with his ears that God looks thus at his thoughts, and imaginations, and desires, and words as well as at his actions, then he stands in awe and amazement of the law, and says, “I cannot keep this, law of God, for I am already condemned by it; and being condemned, what way of escape is there for me? How can I get my sins forgiven? By what means can I be reconciled to God?” This truth is indeed a sharp arrow, and well do I remember when first it pierced my heart and conscience. I felt that I could not stand the test of such a law for a single moment; and that, if called to stand before God’s bar to be tried on such grounds, I should not require a trial, but must plead guilt at once, or stand there in silence to hear his righteous sentence of condemnation.

“How long beneath the law I lay

In bondage and distress!

I toil’d the precept to obey,

But toil’d without success.

“Then, to abstain from outward sin,

Was more than I could do:

Now, if I feel its power within,

I feel I hate it too.”

Another of the truths, connected with Christ’s gospel, that is like a sharp arrow, is this, the utter impossibility of self-justification. This is one of the truths of the gospel that we must never fail to proclaim: “By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight.” Having offended against God, you cannot expiate the past by any actions of yours. If you should henceforth keep the law without a single breach or slip, the fact remains that the sentence of condemnation has already gone forth against you. It is often said that this life is a life of probation, but that is not true. We have passed our probation, we have been proved guilty, and we are condemned already; and we shall abide under that sentence of condemnation unless we have help outside of ourselves to rescue us from it. Lost, lost, lost, utterly lost is the entire human race apart from the power supreme and divine which has been put forth in the person of Jesus Christ. Well do I remember when I first learned that no works of mine, no repentance, no prayers, and no tears could deliver me from the horrible pit into which I was cast through sin. Then was I indeed pierced as with a barbed shaft that went right through my soul to the killing of all my proud hopes and boastings. May such an arrow from the King now pierce to the heart anyone here who still cherishes any hope of self-justification!

A third shaft from the King’s bow is this, the certainty of the judgment. If there is any one truth that Christ proclaimed more often than another, it seems to me to be this, — that there shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and of the unjust, and that the actions of this life will be reviewed in another life, and that rewards and punishments will be meted out by the great Judge who cannot err. Kind and gracious as was the mighty prophet of Nazareth, who has ever described in more graphic words than he did the separation of the sheep from the goats, and the blessing of those on the right hand and the cursing of those on the left? What words could there be more terrible than his when he spoke of the worm that dieth not and of the fire that never shall be quenched? O sinner, your sin is immortal; at least, there is only One who can kill it, and put it away, even Christ Jesus. You shall live again, sir; it shall not be the end of you when you are carried to your grave, and green grows the grass above you. You shall live again, and your thoughts, and words, and actions shall live too. Let them live in your conscience now, let the recollection of them alarm you even before they arise and accuse you before him who shall sit on the great white throne at the last tremendous judgment day. I know this, let a man be thoroughly convinced that he has sinned against God, that he cannot deliver himself from his sin, and that as surely as he lives there is a day of judgment awaiting him, — he has an arrow sticking fast in his heart which he will be compelled to say is sharp as long as he is one of the King’s enemies.

Another sharp arrow is the sense of the need of an entire renewal of our nature if we are not to be condemned at that judgment.

“Not all the outward forms on earth,

Nor rites that God has given,

Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth,

Can raise a soul to Heaven.

“The sovereign will of God alone

Creates us heirs of grace;

Born in the image of his Son,

A new peculiar race.”

Christ’s words are clear and positive, “Ye must be born again.” Some perhaps ask, “But Master, may we not reform and amend?” Yes, ye may as far as ye can, but that will not suffice. “But, Master, may we not observe certain ceremonies which thou hast ordained, may we not attend to thy precepts, and so modify our present nature, and make ourselves fit for heaven?” Jesus says to them, as he said to Nicodemus, “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born from above,” (for so stands the original,) “he cannot see the kingdom of God.” The Holy Spirit must come upon you, and create in you new hearts and right spirits; there must be as total a change in you as though you actually became new creatures; otherwise, from hell you can never escape, and into heaven you can never enter; and this is true not only of the debauched, the dissolute, and the depraved, but also of the most moral, and amiable, and honorable of the whole human race. “Ye must be born again,” or ye cannot enter into heaven. I remember how this sharp arrow stuck in my heart, and how I wandered to and fro, hoping that I might yet be born again, and sighing and crying in my soul because I lacked the one thing needful, which I could not give to myself, but for which I must look up to that great God whom I had offended, and who, I feared, would never deign to grant so great a boon to so unworthy a rebel. May that sharp arrow pierce other hearts just now!

Another arrow from the bow of King Jesus is the sovereignty of God. God has the right to bestow his mercy where he wills, or to withhold it if so he pleases. His grace is in no sense the discharge of a debt which he owes to us. If he had determined to destroy the whole race of men, we must admit that they had deserved such a doom. As he has chosen to save some, it is his grace that has done it, so let him be forever adored for it. The apostle Paul, writing under inspiration quotes God’s words to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion;” and adds, “So these it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy.” What humbling words are these! They make the sinner lie all broken and helpless at the feet of the God whom he has offended, tell him that he cannot save himself, and that now his only hope lies absolutely in the sovereign will of that God who can destroy him in a moment if so he wills. Men do not like this sharp arrow, and will do anything to get rid of it. They will try to deny the truth of it if they can; but let the Lord once drive this arrow right home through the heart and conscience, and I do not know any shaft out of the divine quiver that is more killing to human pride, and more deadly to self-righteousness than this eternal truth which has already brought many to Christ, and will bring many more, God blessing it.

“Praise the God of all creation,

Praise the Father’s boundless love;

Praise the Lamb, our expiation,

Priest and King enthroned above.

Praise the Fountain of salvation,

Him by whom our spirits live;

Undivided adoration

To the One Jehovah give.”

Further, the Lord Jesus Christ often drives the arrow of conviction home in this form, — the aggravation of the sin of men when they sin against light and against love. It is no little evil to break God’s law at all; but to do it knowingly is far worse than to do it ignorantly. To do it after many admonitions to the contrary, to continue to offend against God after being frequently rebuked, to refuse all the invitations of his mercy, to resist the strivings of his Spirit, to be resolved to be lost, to be resolute upon damnation, — this is the very worst form of sin. There are some of you in whose hearts this arrow might well find a place, for you were brought up by godly parents, you were dandled upon the knees of piety, you heard the name of Jesus among the first sounds that saluted your infant ears. You were carried to the house of God before you were old enough to walk there, and your mother’s tears have fallen upon your infant brow as she has wept out her prayers to God that the soul of her child might be precious in his sight. Some of you remember when the Word used to prick your conscience as you heard it preached, and you would go home, and shut your bedroom door, and kneel down and pray; and there was a time when, for weeks or months together, you could not sin as you used to do, but felt obliged to give up one evil and another. Yet you resisted the conviction that was then upon you. You struggled against it, you overcame it, and you went back into sin. You have never had so severe a contest with grace since then; still, you have had some struggles, and by dint of awful perseverance, — oh, that we had half the perseverance to be saved that some have to be lost! — by dint, I say, of awful perseverance, you have managed to remain a servant of Satan until now, nor can we bring you to accept the gospel of Christ. If you remain as you are, the Lord Jesus tells you, as he told the people of Capernaum and Bethsaida of old, that it shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah at the day of judgment than for you. It would have been better for you if you had never been born; it would have been better for you, sir, if, when you were yet a babe, unconscious of right and wrong, a millstone had been hung about your neck, and you had been cast into the depths of the sea. O man, I pray that this sharp arrow may strike thee now, and wound thee, and that God may bless it to thee! If you and I should be lost after having such mothers and fathers as we had, if you and I should perish after such Christian training as we have had, when we meet each other in the lowest depths of hell, our miserable salutation would surely be something of this kind, “What fools we were, with so much light to prefer the darkness, with so much love from God to resolve to hate him! Knowing so well as we did our duty, what arrant fools we were to have neglected it! Knowing that sin was folly, how could we choose it; and knowing that holiness was happiness, for we saw it reflected in the faces of our dearest relatives and friends, how was it that we did not seek it for ourselves?” How we shall wring our hands in unutterable anguish if this should ever be our portion! The Lord prevent it, by his grace!

The last sharp arrow that I shall mention is one which Christ himself has often shot, it is this, — that condemnation for sin is a matter of this present time. Dear hearers, if you have never heard this truth before, hear it now, and tremble at it. You have not to wait until you rise from the dead to receive your condemnation. “He that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God;” and as “there is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus,” so we may solemnly say, “There is therefore now a most weighty condemnation upon you who are not in Christ Jesus, who are walking, not after the Spirit, but after the flesh.” Your sentence is already passed, like that of the poor wretch who is now lying in the condemned cell, tomorrow to suffer the extreme penalty of the law; such is your lot, “condemned already.”

All these truths are the sharp arrows from the bow of King Jesus.

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II. Now, secondly, let us inquire, Why Are They Called Arrows?

First, they are called arrows because they are far-reaching. Some people, who have never heard the gospel, have nevertheless unexpectedly found one or other of these arrows rankling in their hearts. We have known men, who have been at their ordinary work, when one of these arrows has suddenly struck them. Where the voice of the minister could not go, there the arrow of Christ could find its mark. Never give up hope for the world, even in its darkest days. The world was once in a very midnight, and there was a monk, named Luther, on his knees, going up the so-called staircase of Pilate at Rome, and repeating a prayer on eatery step in order to try to win his way to heaven; and there came to him, while on those very stairs, an arrow from the King that pierced him right to his heart. The arrow bore this inscription, “The just shall live by faith” — a sentence which had previously been discovered by him in a Bible in the monastery at Erfurt. He was attempting to justify himself by works like that of climbing the so-called holy stairs, but he found that it was of no use; and, through faith in Jesus, he became the great leader of the Reformers of his day. Perhaps, at this very moment; while we are assembled here worshipping God, there may be men, similarly deluded, in plates where an idolatrous system has usurped the name and place of Christianity, yet the gospel may reach them eaten amidst the mummeries of the mass; ay, and at the ale-bench, and in worse places still, if God so wills it, the arrow from the Prince’s bow may find its target, and reach the human heart. Pray, my brethren and sisters, that the King may be lavish with his sharp arrows, so that many may fall under his power.

They are called arrows, again, because they are penetrating. These truths enter a man’s heart whether he likes them or not. There are some of these arrows that are aimed at a man, but he seems to be clad in steel, and they cannot gain an entrance for a time; but, by-and-by, they pierce him to the heart, and cut him to the very quick. We have known some sinners to be very angry when this has been the case with them. That is of very little consequence so long as they do but get wounded by the arrows of King Jesus. Because these truths wound people, penetrating their hearts, they are rightly called arrows.

They are also called arrows because, if they once get in, they rankle, and you cannot get them out. Often have I heard something like this said by those who have come here to make a profession of their faith in Christ, “I was utterly godless, and never went to any place of worship; but, one evening, I stole in here, and listened to a sermon. I was angry to the last degree at what I heard, I could have cursed the preacher to his face; yet, I do not know how it was, I soon found myself in this place again, wanting to know more about this religion that I detested all the tirade.” I have often heard a man say, “I could not help thinking of it, sir; it haunted my dreams; it kept with me at my work; I loathed it, yet there it was always near me. Certain questions arose within me that I could not answer, and difficulties came up which I could not solve; so I was obliged to let this strange new influence, which had got hold of me, still rankle within my heart.” I have sometimes likened an unconverted man to a wild giraffe in an African forest and Christ’s gospel, like a mighty lion, leaps upon him from the thicket, fastens its powerful fangs in his flesh, and begins to tear away his very life. He strives and struggles, dashes hither and thither, and tries to rid himself of the awful load that he bears upon his back, but all his efforts are in vain.. The poor giraffe in the grip of the lion is distracted, and the man under conviction of sin cannot imagine what is to become of him. He thinks that he is lost, and that he must feel the full force of divine wrath against sin; yet this is the way of mercy, it is thus that men are saved. Down falls the man at last, and then he, who seemed to be his enemy, stoops down, and nobly gives back the life that appeared to have gone from him; or, rather, gives him an infinitely nobler life, and so the forgiven sinner lives forever. Oh, that the power of the gospel may thus be exerted upon some wild, untamable spirit that may be here just now!

The gospel message is specially called an arrow because it kills. What does it kill? It kills many things. Gospel preaching, when applied by the Holy Ghost, kills in men their carnal ease. A man, when he first hears the gospel, may perhaps say, “What is the need to bother oneself about that? It will all come right, I have no doubt.” Ah! but let one of these truths that I have mentioned — that truth, for instance, about the judgment to come, — get into his heart, and rankle there, the man will not talk any longer about not bothering himself; he must care. “Why!” saith he, “to-morrow, I may be before God’s judgment throne, and I am unprepared to meet him. My brother died only last week, and my sister was taken away only a fortnight ago, and I may be called away at any moment. I cannot bear the thought of being in hell for ever; I must begin to think; I must begin to care about my soul.” Carnal ease is one of the first things that is killed by the arrows of Christ.

I will tell you another thing that is killed by these sharp arrows, and that is, the foolish skepticism which some people think we ought to nurse and cuddle up in our places of worship. I do not believe that the skepticism of this age has so much to do with people’s heads as with their hearts. If they were not wicked, they would not doubt; but because they will not be holy, they will not believe. To answer many of their questions would be as foolish as to do what a boy did, according to a fable which I read in an old book the other day. A boy, in a scavenger’s cart, was so, badly-disposed, that he said he would throw dirt in the face of the moon; and another boy, who, I suppose, was a great deal better, but certainly not any wiser, fetched a basin of water and a piece of sponge to wash the moon’s face. When I read that story, I thought of those who are always finding out some reason to doubt the authenticity of the Bible, or who throw dirt in the face of the gospel in some other way; and then there is some well-meaning but foolish divine, who leaves off preaching the truth, and runs with his sponge and his basin of water to wash the face of the blessed gospel, which is as clean as the sun or the moon, and needs none of his washing, for it is not defiled with the dirt that any fool may choose to fling at it. I believe that, at the bottom of your hearts, you do not really doubt, for you know that God will bring you before his judgment-bar to give an account of your actions; and when the King’s sharp arrows pierce your hearts, all your whimsies die, your idle fancies flee away, and your cry is, “Do I not believe? Indeed I do. Oh, that I could but doubt in order to get a little rest to my troubled spirit; or, rather, blessed Spirit, come and teach me if there is not something to be believed by which a lost and condemned spirit may find peace with God!”

The arrows of Christ, wherever they come, always kill self-righteousness. There was never a shaft shot from Christ’s bow that was not fatal to all trust in our own goodness. Christ abhors that abomination, and kills it wherever he finds it. Hardness of heart, want of feeling, — this also is slain wherever Christ’s sharp arrows come; so also is procrastination, that great ruiner of the souls of men. Oh, that some sharp arrow might fly from Christ’s bow into the heart of any sinner here who is saying, “There is time enough yet!” Instead of talking like that, he would say, “I want to be forgiven to-night; I cannot bear this terrible burden of guilt any longer. If there were no future, my present agony is so great that I long for immediate deliverance from it.” Jesus, thou blessed Divine Archer, shoot forth thine arrows now into men’s hearts, that all these ills that they have — unbelief, and hardness of heart, and love of sin, and delay, may fall down slain at thy glorious feet, and then come thou, and save the sinners by thy grace, and thy head shall wear the crown forever and ever!

How gladly would I, if I could, say anything that might encourage any of you to trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, but I know that my feeble voice is not sufficient, to help you. It is the almighty Spirit who alone can do this, and I earnestly pray that he may. My grief is not so much concerning you who are seeking the Savior, as concerning you who are not seeking him. You may think that it is a trifling matter to preach the gospel, or to listen to preaching; but the hour cometh, and every moment brings it nearer, when you will know that the truths of which I have been speaking are the only real things this side of heaven and hell. When you lie a-dying, and are brought face to face with the mysteries of the next world, you will count all your money-getting, and your amusements, and all else to be but foolery. Oh, do not trifle any longer with your eternal interests! If any of you must play the fool, do it with your money, or your estates, or your bodies; but do not do it with your immortal souls, for these, if once lost, can never be recovered. Once let the divine sentence go forth, “Depart, ye cursed,” and it can never be reversed, and changed into a benediction. Once let the iron bar that shuts up lost spirits in hell be driven home by the hand of infinite justice, and there is no hand in heaven, or earth, or hell, that can ever slide that iron bar back. Once done, ’tis done forever; so, sirs, I beseech you, escape to the cross while you may. Look to him who died upon it. Trust yourselves wholly to him. Forsake your sins, walk in his ways, and live as his followers should; for then, but not till then, will you be safe.

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III. And now, to conclude, having examined the King’s sharp arrows, and seen why they are called by that name, let us inquire, How Do They Get Into Men’s Hearts?

Many are the times that I have handled these arrows of the King, and many are the times that, from this my watch-tower, I have shot them from my bow; and the, Lord knoweth with what intense desire I have longed that they might enter the hearts of those at whom I have aimed them. I could, with my finger, — but I shall not, — indicate some of the targets at which I have aimed. I will mention no names; there is no need for me to do that; you know very well to whom these personal messages have been addressed. I suppose I cannot have been a good shot, for, with many of you, I have not yet found the joint in your harness through which I could reach your heart. Oh, that I might speedily be able to do so!

But, according to my text, the arrows which are there spoken of, and which are shot by the King, do get right into the hearts of his enemies; and I suppose this is for two reasons, — first, because the Lord Jesus Christ always takes good aim. We cannot do this except as he puts his hands on our hands; for then, the aim will be his rather than ours, like the shots of certain eminent people, on great public occasions, who have the sighting done for them by experts. It is only when the Lord Jesus Christ does this for us that the arrow of the truth goes home to the heart and conscience of the hearer. Christ’s aim is always true. If the truth should come home to any of you, believe that it was meant for you. Do not be vexed, or think that there has been a mistake. It was meant for you; and although it may pain you, bless God for the pain. It will be better for you thus to be pained, and afterwards be fitted to enter into heaven, than to be left to get a seared and hardened conscience, and to be cast into hell.

The other reason why these arrows of the King get into the hearts of his enemies is that, together with the good aim, there is always almighty strength at the back of the bow. It is said that the bow of William the Conqueror was so strong that no man in England, except himself, could bend it; and the great bow of King Jesus is such as none of us can bend. It has the power of the Holy Ghost in it; it is the Holy Ghost himself who gives force and power to the Word so that it pierces through all the sinner’s armor, and the most vital part of his being, and smites him even in the heart.

Bearing this last thought in mind, I say to you who love the Lord, do you not see how dependent we are upon the Holy Spirit? There lie the arrows, but they will kill nobody till the Holy Spirit gets them into the hearts of sinners. There is much precious troth in this blessed Book, but there it will lie till the Holy Spirit takes it, and shoots it right into the hearts of men. So, what is our duty as Christian men and women? Why, dear brethren and sisters, let us never grieve the Holy Spirit. You know that we can do it by neglecting to honor him, by falling out amongst ourselves, by cherishing unlovely dispositions, by being unholy. As church-members, we can easily drive the Holy Spirit away from us; but, instead of grieving him, let as honor him, and let us entreat him to work with us.

“Brethren, pray for us.” I believe I am the constant subject of the prayers of the different members of this church, to whom I feel the deepest gratitude; but I also beg you to pray for all the ministers of Christ, and for one another, and for all work that is being done for Christ. Remember the Sunday-school teachers. Think of those good men who, all the week, are doing the hard work of City-missionaries, and those good women who are working as Bible-women; — pray for all such laborers, and for all who are doing anything for Christ, and ask that the Holy Spirit may be with them to make their labors a means of blessing to the people. Whenever you seek to do anything for Christ, as you begin, and as you go on, and when you conclude, let it all be done in real dependence upon the Holy Spirit. Blessed be God, the Holy Spirit is not far away from us, nor is he hard to find; for he dwells within the true Church of Christ. We are not to think of him as if he were some mysterious being, very far distant from us, and not easily to be brought to us, to whom we need to cry as Baal’s priests cried to their idol-god, “O Baal, hear us!” The Holy Spirit is always at work in the Church, and it is a wonder that he does so much while the Church often does so little. Oh, if we were but all awake, all alive, all full of zeal, all full of love, all full of self-sacrifice, then, depending upon him, we might expect to see the King’s sharp arrows flying from his bow to the right and to the left, behind and in the front, while tens of thousands would fall down before him, and London, and Great Britain, and the world at large would behold the King riding in triumph in his glorious chariot of salvation.

Psalm 48:8 Experience Confirming Testimony

NO. 3396
A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, MARCH 5TH, 1914.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
ON THURSDAY EVENING MAY 27TH, 1869.

“As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of the Lord of hosts, in the city of our God.” — Psalm 48:8.

“As we have heard so have we seen.” This is not always the case, but frequently it is the very reverse. Things are exaggerated; the imagination is largely drawn upon, and we hear great things, but when we come to look at them, or try practically to enjoy them, the great things have become very small. It is so in the world generally. We have heard, and were told in our youthful days by those who have been before us, that the paths of sin are pleasant, that there are great enjoyments to be found in the indulgences of evil passions, and that if we will give ourselves up to the general run and current, we shall find ourselves very smoothly floating along on a stream of happiness. Ah! how many who have sown their wild oats, and looked for a happy harvest, have discovered that nothing but mischief comes of this! Jaded by the satiety of their lusts, and at last utterly destroyed by their own wickedness, they have sat down, and wrung their hands in despair at finding out that things are not what they heard they were. As they have heard, so do they not see, but the very opposite — for pleasure, pain: for happiness, misery: even here remorse, and afterwards an anguish that shall know no end.

Nor is it any better with the teachers of false doctrine. As we have heard, so have we not seen. We have sometimes been told that philosophy will civilize a nation: that the spread of education will most certainly cure the human heart: and that the bias and propensity to sin will be put down by an increase of mental light. But as we have heard, so have we not seen, for philosophy has thrown many burdens upon men, but it has not touched those burdens to remove them, with so much as its little finger. We hear a great deal of what is to be done for society by this scheme and by that, but nothing is done. Theories are propounded: wind-bags are blown out and brought forth, bubbles are blown, but do not see much that is solid and valuable produced. One after another of these eminent theorizers have arisen who were about to revolutionize and reconstruct society. Instead of making the causes of evil in the world to increase, they were to uproot them, and turn the desert into the garden of the Lord. But so it has not been; our eyes have never seen it. Rather has the bad been made worse, and the good has been impeded by those who were so pretentious and loud in their professed benevolence. Take any of the false doctrines which are often affiliated to our holy faith, and you will find that when you come to examine them and put them to the test, they do not hold water. How often have we heard about “the dignity of human nature”; how congenial the heart of man is to that which is noble, and to that which is Christlike. We are told that we have only to hold up Christ, and there is such a beauty in him that all the world will be sure to love him. But as we have heard, so have we not seen, but we have seen men to be as God saw them — corrupt. There is none that doeth good, no not one, and in the perfect light of Calvary we have seen that even the perfections of Jesus will not be seen by a blind world, nor will they attract a corrupt world. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” will be the verdict of humanity, even upon the perfections of the incarnate God. We have heard a great deal about the power of free-will. We have heard sometimes that men come to Christ of themselves; that there is no power of irresistible grace which turns them from darkness to light, and from the power of sin and Satan unto God. Ah! we have heard this, but we have never seen it. To this moment, though we have mingled with all classes of Christians, we did never yet meet with a single believer who declared that his conversion was the result of his own efforts, and that his coming to Christ was entirely through the motive-power of his own free will. We have been told, too, that God forsakes his people, that real saints, after all, turn back and perish. But we bless God that, though we have often heard this, we have never, never seen it.

“If ever it should come to pass,
One of his sheep should fall away:
My fickle, feeble soul, alas!
Would fall a thousand times a day.”

But being kept in safety by another and greater power than our own, and preserved in the midst of appalling temptations, we still hold to it that he doth keep his people. We have heard it, and we have seen it, but the other doctrine we have heard, but, thank God, we have never seen. And so there are many other things that pass current in certain sections of Christendom as being true, which, if they were brought to a practical test, might be seen not to be so We have heard them, heard them delivered with a glowing eloquence that might have convinced us, if we were to be convinced, but we have referred to the Old Book, and the Old Book has been more to us than all the siren-songs that sweetest oratory could raise. We have nailed our colors to the mast, and could not take them down. We have found all here in this blessed Bible to be true; but man’s word, when it has come into conflict or even competition with God’s Word, we have found to be light as chaff, and as easily consumed as the fat of rams upon the altar’s fire.

Now, just for a little time I thought we would illustrate this general truth, that in the things of God, and in the church of God,” as we have heard, so have we seen.” Now, mark: —

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I. It Has Been So All Down The Line Of Revelation.

Could a man have lived a sevenfold Methuselah-life, and have stood at the gates of Paradise, and listened to the first promise that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent’s head, if he could have beheld Noah shut in in the ark, and marked the covenant rainbow when for the first time it spanned the clouds; could he have lived in Abraham’s day, and have seen the father of that seed in which all the nations of the earth should be blessed; could he have marked all the types and ceremonies which Israel saw in the wilderness, all pointing onwards to a coming Savior; could he have listened to the prophetic utterances of David in some of those matchless Psalms, which are full of the Messiah; could he have heard the notes of Isaiah when he spoke of him who was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; yea, could he have heard every prophecy, and beheld every symbol, and listened to every sacred portent — when he came to behold the person of Christ, to see him living, dying, rising, ascending, and to mark the Pentecost, and to see the history of the Church right down until now, such a grave and reverend man, revered and venerable above all other men through the long lapse of years that had passed over his snowy head, would say, “As I heard during the first portion of my life, so have I seen in the latter days thereof: God has always kept his promise: as was the shadow, so was the substance: as the type, so was the antitype: as the word that flowed from prophetic lips, so was the Christ who, in the fullness of time, came into this world to bless and redeem mankind.”

This is not merely a great general truth, but, mark you, it is true in every jot and tittle. We do not expect men, when they speak frequently, so to speak that every particle of what they say may be correct. We admit them to be fallible: we always make some allowance for some slips of the tongue. But all through these thousands of years, in which God spake of Christ and of the gospel kingdom, there never was a single trifling word that was not fulfilled.

There have been no slips of the tongue, no drops that blot the page. Everything has been accurately, minutely, precisely, what if I say, microscopically fulfilled in Christ. As the casket-key exactly fits the wards of the lock, so the life of Christ, and the history of the Church, exactly fits all the types and all the prophecies. Sometimes it has been said that if anybody doubts the inspiration of the four gospels, it would be a very pretty puzzle for him to try to write a fifth gospel which should have in it some new details that would be congruous to the rest and that would fit in with the promises and prophecies of the Old Testament. That is a task we propound to those wits who seem to want something to do in these days, since they are impugning everything that is held sacred by us. Let them attempt that. If this problem could have been put to the wise in all ages — Now there is the Old Testament, and, whether it is true or not, construct the life of a man who shall fit all that; use your poetic powers, or whatever other abilities you choose to employ; imagine a man that shall fit the lamb, the scape-goat, the passover, Noah’s ark, the Psalms of David, the prophecies of Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Joel — why the enigma must have been given up in despair. It would not have been possible for the united abilities of men and angels to have discovered an ideal Messiah that would have exactly met all this. But our Lord did in every jot and in every tittle, so that as we read some parts of the Old Testament, we often say to ourselves, “This looks as if it were written after the event.” We read the twenty-second Psalm, and if we did not know that it had been composed many, many years before our Lord came, we should look at it as history rather than as prophecy. One can only comprehend this by admitting inspiration, and by rejoicing in the wondrous truthfulness of God. Even such little points as the casting of lots for the vesture of Christ, things which seem insignificant, God took care should be fulfilled, and though our Lord died, and as yet he had not been pierced as to his heart, at any rate, yet after death there must be a piercing of him that they “may look on him whom they have pierced,” and weep and wail because of him. “As we have heard, so have we seen.” The life of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ certainly carry out the prophecies which God had uttered before concerning him. But now, shall go on to speak of: —

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II. The Church Of God — Christward And Godward — As To Our Own Experience.

Some of you have thoughts of Christ, but as dead or as far away. We have come to deal with him as a living Savior. Now the question is, whether, in so dealing with him, we have found all true that we were told concerning him.

Now, when we first enlisted in the Christian army, we were told from Christ’s own Word that we must count the cost, and should have to suffer a degree of persecution. We were warned not to take upon ourselves hastily, to carry out that for which we should have no power unless we sought it from above. We were warned, “In the world ye shall have tribulation.” Have we found it so? “Oh!” says one, “abundantly that has been true to me; from those of my own household I first met with opposition; the gospel has set those against me that were once my fondest friends.” Just so, but now that it has come to pass you will see how sincerely he dealt with you; that he would not entrap you into his service as though it would be altogether a thing of pleasure, but he warned you that it was a conflict, that it was a pilgrimage. You have found it so, and now that it has come to pass, let this help you to trust him for the future.

But you were also told that if you trusted him, you who were burdened with many sins, you should have them all forgiven, and that this forgiveness would bring about a solid peace of mind. Have you found it so? Can you not stand up and add your name to the long roll of witnesses who say, “We looked unto him and were lightened, and our faces were not ashamed; this poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and delivered him from all his fears”? I bless the Lord I can say that the joy of the pardoned sinner is a sweeter and a better thing than I ever dreamed it to be, and the peace of conscience, which reflection upon the atonement always brings, is better and more enduring than one could have fancied could have fallen to the lot of so unworthy an one as he whom Christ had called.

Our Lord Jesus told us, too, that if we came and trusted him, he would give us the victory over our sins. Now, has he done that? I know you will confess sometimes that you have not conquered your sins as you would desire.

The battle is still raging: there is still a need for yonder watchtower. But, brethren, if a sin has not been conquered, has that ever been Christ’s fault Has it not been ours? “They overcame through the blood of the Lamb,” is true of all the saints with regard to their struggles with sin. There is no sin that we cannot pray down and weep down if we live at the foot of the cross. The worst temper that ever a soul was plagued with is to be controlled and softened if one looks to the griefs of Christ, and becomes like him in temper. It matters not how constitutional the sin may be, though you may say, “It is my easily-besetting sin”; you may be delivered from it. Christ Jesus, when he comes into the island of our nature, can drive out all the cruel and deadly reptiles that are there, or if they remain there, he can give us abundant grace, so that they can make no headway, but we shall be kept as “holiness unto the Lord.”

Now, you and I have read and heard from the saints of God that our Lord Jesus, when he is really known and understood, is inexpressible sweetness itself. They have told us, some of them — writing like Rutherford of his wonderful Master — that the joy of heaven is to be possessed in a measure even here below that in contemplation on, and communion with, Christ, the heart can be made to dance with joy eternal and full of glory. Now, brethren, have we found it so? Oh! some of us can set to our seal that in this thing the saints of God have been true. He hath ravished our souls with his presence, and made our hearts to melt while he spoke into our ears the marvellous story of his love. Perhaps in our unbelief we think that this is fancy, or fanaticism, or some high-strained sentimentalism, but it is not so. It is the sober fact that when a man getteth to lean upon the arm of Christ, he laughs at trouble, defies persecution; he passes through temptation all unhurt; he walketh here below, and his conversation is in heaven; he sitteth down with the sons of men, and yet he is “raised up and made to sit in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” I would say to you saints who have not proceeded far in the college of Christ, who have only just begun to study his precious character and the divine virtues that flow out of him, never be content until you have, for as you have heard from the song of the Canticles as you have heard from the saints who, out of their experience, have told you of Christ’s love, so will you find it. Do not harbour the idea that the further you go the less will you have of enjoyment in religion. Oh! no! it has deep draughts of great bliss. The shallow draughts will sustain, but oh! it is sacred intoxication with the love of Christ, which brings the highest joy and the divinest mirth.

To go in up to the ankles in the sea of Christ’s love is well; but oh! to pass up to the loins, and to get further still, until you find it “a river to swim in,” this is to know the true delights of godliness. As you have heard of these things, though they seem to be too high for you, and you tremble at them, yet if you will but ask for more grace that you may press forward, so shall you see. There are no exceptions about Christ. He offereth nothing in the market that hath been proffered to catch the eye, but is not worth the purchase. His diamonds are never trashy paste, his gold is not mere gilt. You may buy bread from him, and put it in the scales, and find it ounce for ounce. The water that he giveth turneth neither stale nor sour; it is ever fresh and cool: the further you shall go in the enjoyment of it, the more shall you prize the well of water springing up in your souls unto everlasting life.

Now, I might just turn this same point round in another form, and say that as we have heard of Christ in his life upon earth, so have we found it in dealing with him. When Christ was here on earth, he was all tenderness and love, and so have we found him. We went to him covered with the leprosy of our sin, and ready to die of our iniquities; but one touch of his hand was freely given, and that touch healed us. When he was on earth he was holiness itself, and so he is now, for he will not walk with us if we fall in love with sin. He is quick to tell our faults, and he gently chideth us till conscience awakens us, and we turn from the evil with abhorrence. Christ was in this world as a very faithful friend. Having loved his own, he loved them unto the end. And we have found him just such until now. There was never an hour in which he left us naked to our enemies. When we have been tempted, his intercession has always been like a brazen wall around us to keep us from being devoured by the foe. When we have been bewildered he has, like a good shepherd led us by ways that we knew not, but that he well understood. In the days of famine we have been fed: in the times of want we have been satisfied. We can speak well of his name. If any of his saints have anything to say of him that is high and comely, that will exalt him and set him on high, we after our measure can endorse it all.

So far as our experience has gone, he is a better Christ than we thought him to be. Oh! he is altogether precious, altogether lovely. Up to this day we have never discovered a spot in him. We have tried him — oh! how sadly, and our sins have tried him — oh! how heavily. But he is always true, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. We can only bless him and praise him, for “as we have heard, so have we seen.”

How my heart desireth that some of you who are here would just now, at this very moment, come to my Lord and try him. Oh! I so remember when I first came to him. They told me he was ready to pardon, and that a look at him would move my crushing burden from my weary heart. I could not think it true, but: —

“I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary, and worn, and sad.”

And did he disappoint me? Ah! no; I can happily join in with the rest of that verse:

“I found in him a resting place, And he has made me glad.”

If any of you think that Christ will cast you out when you come, I wish you would come and try him; it would be the beginning of a new method with him; the turning over of a new black leaf. “Him that cometh unto me,” saith he, “I will in no wise cast out.” He never did find it in his heart to do so to any sinner that has sought his mercy; and I will not believe it, though all the angels in heaven swear it, that he ever cast away a soul. I’d call them liars. It cannot be; it never shall be. While the heavens are above the earth, and God is true, and Christ is God, no sinner that comes and puts his trust in him, shall find him unable or unwilling to same him. Oh! taste and see that the Lord is good, and as you have heard, so shall you see. Now, in the next place, I think: —

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III. This All Stands Good With Regard To The Church Of God Itself.

Some have been apt to find fault with the church, and some Christians seem to act on the principle of getting to heaven one by one. “Sheep,” God’s people are called, and I suppose one reason is because sheep are gregarious and go in flocks, but there are Christian professors who seem to like the one by one principle. Well now, speaking of the Church of God as we have seen her, she has many faults — many faults — but Jesus Christ loves her, and she is his Bride, and I dare not find fault with her. If she is the Princess Royal, if she is His Imperial Highness’s own betrothed one, I would rather see her with his eyes than with my own, and while it may be very striking to rail about ministers and their defects, to sneer at church-members and all sorts of other things, and there may be sometimes good reason for it, yet we may say much on the other side, too. “As we have heard, so have we seen.”

When we joined the Christian Church first, we were told very plainly in the Scripture that there would be tares among the wheat. That there would be some among us who would go out from us, because they were not of us. Christ taught us that, among his twelve disciples, there was one Judas, and if some hypocrites do intrude amongst us, it need not astonish us. We knew it would be so. He forewarned us, and admonished us, of it. We have heard it, and so have we seen: and if the seeing of it has been painful, we can at least say that God was truthful and frank in warning us that so it would be.

Well, there were good things spoken of the Church of God, and we have found them true, too. I expected to find in the Christian Church some holy, prayerful, devout Christian men and women, and I have found them, and have rejoiced to be among them, to mingle with them, and to be of their company, joining with them in holy worship, the washing in the blood that has washed them. I can truly say that I have found a Peter — many a bold, earnest brother like Peter; many a loving John; many a busy Martha, and some communing Maries. The Church of God always seems to me as I have seen it, to be a vast deal too good for me to be a member of it, if I did but judge myself, and, instead of finding fault, I would join with David and say, “Thou art my Lord: my goodness extendeth not to thee, but to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight.” I know the world will often find fault, and rail, and tell us there are no such things as ancient Christians. I have seen as glorious Christianity as even the apostles saw, and as good works of the Holy Ghost in members of this church as ever gladdened the eyes of those apostles; suffering endured with a patience astonishing, labor done with a perseverance that was most commendable, liberality evinced with a freedom that showed that the love of Christ constrained; prayer kept up with a fervency that marked the indwelling Spirit; and souls cared for, sought after, and won, too, with an indefatigable love that only the love of Christ could inspire. I know we always think we live in the worst times, but we do not.

There were worse times than these, and there will be again yet. These may not be the best, but they are a long way off from being the worst. I think it was when Dr. Newton died that the good divine who preached the funeral sermon took some such text as this, “My father, my father, the chariots of Israel, and the horsemen thereof,” and he deplored that now this eminent saint was gone they had no great divines left like the great preachers of the olden time. That went on very prettily for some time, but it was too much for an old Methodist woman, who stood in the aisle and cried out, “Glory to God! that’s a lie!” And oftentimes when I hear people crying down the times and saying there are no good people left, and that Christianity is at a low ebb, and that there remains no true zeal, I can say from what I myself see in the people amongst whom I dwell, “Glory be to God, that is a lie: it is a slander upon the Church of God!” For as we have heard, so have we seen: we have seen the gracious, fair fruits of the Spirit, and we honor God by testifying to that fact.

I would, however, dear brethren and sisters, that we were always conscientiously concerned never to give the lie in any degree to statements made in Scripture concerning the holy living of the saints. Alas! there are some professors who, if you could track them to their business, are so much given to loose trading that as we have heard, so can we not see. If you go into their houses, their maidservants, their children, and their wives are obliged to say, “We have heard what Christian fathers, and mothers, and masters ought to be, but as we have heard so, we do not see.” It all ends in talk, in profession. Now, while I stand up for it that there are many that do adorn the doctrine of God their Savior in all things, and so prove that they are God’s true people, yet do we sorrowfully confess that many walk “of whom” we would say with the apostle, “We have told you often, and now tell you even with weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ,” though they are professed members of the Church of Christ. Their lips honor God, but their inconsistent lives degrade the Church, and bring upon it much loss of spiritual power.

“As we have heard, so have we seen.”

I think some of us can say that we have heard of the church’s glorious assemblies. We have heard that they said they were glad when they went up to the house of the Lord. We have heard that the people of God are happy in their assemblies, and that they long for the place where God’s honor dwelleth. Well, and so have we seen, for our Sabbaths have been our happiest days, and we have often said: —

“My willing soul would stay In such a frame as this
And sit, and sing herself away To everlasting bliss.”

It has been so.

We have heard that the preaching of the gospel is the power of God unto salvation, and the great means of comfort and edification to the saints; and “as we have heard, so have we seen,” for oftentime when the truth has been preached in our hearing, it has been as marrow and fatness, and other times a rebuke has come just as we needed it to quicken us from our spiritual sloth.

We have heard that the ordinances of God’s house have a blessing connected with them. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. That in the keeping of his commandments there is great reward, and as we have heard, so have we seen. I am sure that the blessed Supper of the Lord, though many of his people come to the table every week, never seems to grow stale.

There is always a freshness in it. Oh! that blessed ordinance! Some, I know, make a God of it, and an idolatrous mystery of it, but because they misuse it, we dare not depreciate it. It is to us none other than the very gate of heaven full often. “As we have heard, so have we seen.” Let us press on in our Church-fellowship, and increase in our love and earnestness, and then as we have heard of the Zion that travails and becomes like the mother of children, so shall we see; as we have heard that they who sow in tears shall reap in joy, so shall we see; as we have heard that there is great pleasure connected with the winning of souls for Christ, so shall we see. In a word, all the glorious things that are spoken of Zion, we shall have fulfilled to ourselves.

Brethren, before I close, I want to say that there is a dreadful side to this truth. As we have heard, so have we seen. There are some of you here who are not saved. You have hitherto loved your sins, and have not repented. You have heard of Christ, but you have put off all thoughts of him. Now, you have heard oftentimes that he that believeth not shall be condemned, and from this Book you have heard that condemnation is something terrible and overwhelming, for there are words like these, “Beware, ye that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces and there be none to deliver”; and these, “These shall go away into everlasting punishment”; and these, “Where their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched.” Now as you have heard, so will you see. Depend upon it you shall not find the pit of hell to be less awful than this Book describes. God sets up no bugbear to frighten souls. They are all realities of which he speaks, and that they are realities many dying sinners have been made to know before they have been dead, for their horror, their alarms their fears have been premonitions of that wrath to which they were drawing nigh. I have seen some death-scenes which I dare not try to picture before you: and the memory of which would unman me if I were to continue to contemplate them — hearers of the gospel who had neglected Christ, and who died conscious of their sins, unable, however, to seek mercy, and whilst we prayed with them, telling us that our prayers would never be heard, for they were given over, and now they were cursing God, even while they were feeling the anguish of lost souls. Yes, and though there be some that become the advocates for evil, by trying to make out the punishment of sin to be little, settle it in your souls that, as it took the blood of the dying Son of God to wash out the sin of those who were pardoned it will take an anguish such as no heart can conceive, ere the sinner shall have suffered for his sin what God will certainly pour upon him. Think not lightly of the doom of the lost, lest you think lightly of sin, and lightly of Christ, for as you have heard, and infinitely more than you have heard, shall you see. Oh! unhappy spirit, unless you will turn to Christ, and believe on him, and live. Oh! that you may do so. to-night, for another night may never come to you; but one long, endless night may be your portion.

Psalm 48:9 A Worthy Theme for Thought

NO. 2783
INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD’S-DAY, JUNE 15TH, 1902,
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON,
ON LORD’S-DAY EVENING, MAY 5TH, 1878.

“We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.”-Psalm 48:9.

WHO were these people who declared to the Lord that they had thought of his lovingkindness in the midst of his temple According to the title of the Psalm, they were the sons of Korah. And who were the sons of Korah? They were the singers in the house of the Lord, those who took the principal part in sounding forth the praises of Jehovah. I think it is suggestive that they did not say, “We have sung of thy lovingkindness.” They had done that, and it was their constant employment; but they said, “We have thought;” and there are some singers who have not done that, for they have sung solemn words thoughtlessly, caring only for the music, and not for the meaning. One who is not a skilled musician, or trained vocalist, can tell when his ear is pleased with what he hears, and I think that such a person will say that the very sweetest music he has ever heard has come from sincere hearts, even if the voices have not been in complete harmony. If you hear Christians sing when they are in the spirit, and sing what they really feel, their singing may not be artistic, and it may not be accurate; but, if your own heart is right with God, it will have such an effect upon you as no other music can have. Singing from the heart is the noblest form of praise to God. Some people would not shout so loudly where the words should be uttered softly, or sing so harshly where pathos is required, if they were thinking while they were singing; but it is quite possible for us to be uttering sweet sounds without our mind and heart being really occupied in the exercise. Let it not be so with us, dear friends; but, whenever we sing, may we so praise God in our spirit that, at the close of every psalm and hymn, we may be able to say, with these sons of Korah, “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.” But why did they write this? For, according to the title, is “A Psalm of (or for) the sons of Korah.” It was, probably, written by them because this fact was so refreshing to their memory. Possibly, at the time the Psalm was written, they were not in the house of the Lord, nor able to go there to sing, so they recorded their past experience to cheer them under their present trial: “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God. There have been, in days gone by, happy times when we have rejoiced in thy great love to us; and although we are now debarred the privilege of sounding forth thy praise in the midst of thy temple, our memory recalls the glad seasons of the pa t, and our soul is, for a while, content to sup upon these cold meats, and to look forward to the day when once more we shall be banqueted in the house of the Lord.” Sometimes, dear friends, when you get into the wilderness, it is sweet to remember that you were once an inhabitant of Zion; especially when you feel such an inward longing to get back again that you can say, with the psalmist,

“As the hart panteth after the waterbrooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God!”

In this very house of prayer, have not our hearts burned within us, many a time, as we have praised our great and gracious God! Have not our souls then been ready to dance with ecstasy! If so, we may well pray to the Lord, and say,

“Renew thy former mercies to us. Quicken us again, we pray thee. O restore unto us the joy of thy salvation, and cause our hearts again to shout aloud with grateful thanksgiving for all thy lovingkindness towards us!”

To help us to receive an answer to the prayer, which I have just uttered on your behalf, as well as for myself, let us look at our text very carefully, and seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance in explaining it. Doing so, I think we shall learn, first, that the occupation of these sons of Korah was gracious: “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.” Then, secondly, the place was appropriate. Where could they be, to think of the lovingkindness of the Lord, better than in his temple? When I have spoken on these two points, I will try to show you, thirdly, that the result was beneficial. The Psalm itself shows us how much they were profited by thinking upon the lovingkindness of the Lord, and it also reveals to us the blessing which came to others through them.

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I. So, first, we learn that Their Occupation Was Gracious: “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.”

Thought is a noble faculty; the power to exercise it distinguishes men from the brute beasts. We grovel when we are under necessity to perform the acts that relate only to the body; we rise as we are able to perform the functions of the mind and heart. Really to think, is an ennobling employment; yet it is not everybody who cares to think. There are many, who regard themselves as religious people, who like to pay somebody else to do their thinking for them, so it is theirs only at second-hand. They are not like the noble Bereans, who “received the Word with all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures daily, whether those things were so;” thus going to the fountain-head, instead of drinking of the streams which have, probably, been polluted in their course. You may rest assured of this that you do not really know anything until you have thoroughly thought it out. You say, perhaps, “I believe such-and-such a creed;” yet you hardly know what is stated in that creed, and you certainly do not know what the words mean; and, therefore, you do not really believe it in the right fashion. If you would truly know it, you must study and labor to understand it; in fact, you must think over it. But the singular thing is, that many people will do almost anything except think. A pretty service, to which the flowers from Covent Garden lend the chief attraction, or in which the millinery makes the greatest show, pleases a great many; and to have the ears charmed with the melodious sounds of vocal or instrumental music producing a sensuous feeling which they suppose to be true devotion, but is not-how many there are who will give almost anything for this; but as for thinking, they cannot do that. Such work is too hard for their mental constitution; they do not think, and they cannot think. Yet, brethren, no man can be a strong Christian unless he is able to say, in the words of our text, “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.” What is needed is that we should believingly think in harmony with the great thoughts of God, thinking them over again after him, as it were; not endeavoring to think anything contrary to what is revealed, or seeking to be inventors of truth,-which we can never be; -but reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting what we find recorded in the Sacred Scriptures. This is the kind of thought that we must exercise if we are to grow in grace, and to make advance’s in the divine life.

Not only, however, is thought a noble faculty, but God’s lovingkindness is a theme that is especially worthy of thought. If there is any subject that may be neglected in our meditations, this must never be. The commonest ties of gratitude bind us at least to think about the great goodness of God to us. It is an amazing thing that he should ever have so highly favored such unworthy persons as we are, and favored us so long, so tenderly, and so perseveringly. Truly, the mercies he hath bestowed upon us should never be-

“Forgotten in unthankfulness,

And without praises die.”

Besides, if we do not at least think about God’s lovingkindness to us, we may well tremble lest he should no more think upon us for good, and find more grateful recipients of his lovingkindness. Not think of his lovingkindness? Why! there are some of us who cannot help doing so, for it continues to be manifested to us every day. We cannot forget the past mercies, for the present ones are so abundant. Fresh oil to anoint us is ever flowing from the good olive tree, which is one of the symbols of our Savior. How can we forget what the Lord has done for us? I might slightly alter that striking expression of captive Israel, and say, “If I forget thee, O thou lovingkindness of the Lord, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.” The beam out of the wall, and the stones on which we rest our feet, might well cry out against us if we did not think of the lovingkindness of the Lord. If we cannot tell all about it; if we cannot properly weigh and value it; if we cannot give any adequate return for it; yet let us at least think of it. Let every one of us think of it now, so that we may be able to say, at the close of the service, or even before,

“We have thought of thy lovingkindness,

O God, in the midst of thy temple.”

Further, such thought as our test describes is essential to all true worship. Be not startled if I say that it is very much in proportion to our thought that we do really worship; and, without thought, there is no true worship. Suppose we sing the praisers of God without thinking what we are doing; is that praising him? Nay, no more than if we could have taught a parrot, or constructed an automaton, to make the same set of sounds. Suppose we preach without thought; of what value is such preaching? I am afraid there is much of that sort of preaching to be heard. One minister said, some time ago, that he could preach two sermons a day, six days in the week, and think nothing of it; and somebody, who knew his style of speech, said that he was quite right in thinking nothing of it, for there was nothing in it to think of. If the preacher shall talk, and talk, and talk, but does not himself think, his words will not be acceptable even to his hearers, much less can he hope that they will be accepted by God. If you say that you worship God without thought, I answer that you worship not God at all, and that you rather mock him than worship him. If you kneel down to pray, ere you retire to rest, and when you rise up, you say to yourself, “I never thought of what I was saying,” then, sir, you did not really pray, there was no true prayer in the act, it was all a mockery and a sham. We must make the whole of our devotion an exercise of the inward spirit, not so much an act of the vocal organs as of the thoughtful part of our being, so that we may be able truly to say, “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.” Now, this task of thinking of God’s lovingkindness ought to be a very easy one, for there is abundance of material to think of in God’s lovingkindness.” Well did Joseph Addison sing,-

“When all thy mercies,

O my God My rising soul surveys;

Transported with the view,

I’m lost In wonder, love, and praise.”

Each one of us, who has been the subject of saving grace, may say to the Lord, “I have thought of thy lovingkindness to me in thine eternal counsels, or ever the earth was; and of thy lovingkindness to me long before the members of my body were curiously wrought by thy mysterious power.” Some of us can say to the Lord, “I have thought of thy lovingkindness in having committed me to the care of a godly mother and a Christian father; of thy lovingkindness to me, in my infant days, when I could not protect myself; of thy lovingkindness to me, in my wayward youth, when I ran into divers follies, knowing not myself or thee; and of thy loving kindness to me, when I grew up to manhood, and, alas! my folly ripened into sin. I have thought of thy pitying, restraining, forgiving lovingkindness, that watched over me in all my wanderings, ever tracking the lost sheep that the good Shepherd might always know where it was, and in due time bring it home; and that lovingkindness which, at last, lovingly grasped me, laid me upon thy shoulders, and bore me home rejoicing. Thy lovingkindness, O my God, where shall I end the story of it? Surely, it shall last, not only as long as my existence here, but it shall be continued throughout eternity. Since the new birth of thy servant, how great have been thy lovingkindnesses in instruction, in deliverance, in forgiveness, in comforting, in strengthening, in guiding, in answering prayer, in removing temptation, in conquering infirmity, in leading on from strength to strength! “Oh, if we had to write the complete record, the roll would need to he written within and without to hold the list of all the Lord’s lovingkindness, and it would need to be long enough to belt the whole heaven as with a zodiac of light, for his lovingkindness is without end, and altogether untellable. No man can truly say, “I have thought that subject dry; I have worked it threadbare.” Oh, no! We have thought, and we still will think of Gods lovingkindness to us; but that is a theme not only worthy of thought, but beyond all thought.

If any of you, brethren, think there is likely to be any lack of material for thought, I beg you to consider the various acts of divine grace, all of which are full of the lovingkindness of the Lord;-the everlasting covenant, personal election, redemption, effectual calling, adoption, sanctification, final perseverance. Touch on any point you please, and you may think with joy and gratitude of God’s marvelous lovingkindness.

Then, each one of you turn to your own personal experience. I need not again remind you how gracious God has been to you; I have already given you a sort of outline sketch of it. But, oh! there are some of you who could tell-no, you would not like to tell, but you know-some wonderful things about the Lord’s lovingkindness to you. As for myself, I know that my Master has done for me that which, if I were to tell it, would never be believed; and, therefore, I shall keep the story of it till I get where doubt and incredulity will never be admitted. The lovingkindness of the Lord is amazing. Oh, what blessed secrets there have been between him and some of his most highly favored people! When they have been locked up in the darkest dungeons of the prisonhouse, then have they discovered that they were in the King’s wine cellars, and he has said to them, “Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.” When they have been shut out from all natural light, they have found that they did not need the sunlight, for their Lord’s presence has given them all the brightness they have needed. I warrant you that the Covenanters and our Puritan forefathers knew more of the lovingkindness of the Lord than many of us do; though some of us know so much of it that we shall need all eternity to tell the wondrous story. Oh, he is a good and gracious God! If you do net think so, it is because you do not know him. Perhaps you have not yet seen him in the right light. Possibly, you have been living under the law; if you were living under grace, you would understand him better. Or perhaps you have been trying to live with just a little grace; whereas, if you had more grace, you would know the Lord better, and then you would adore him more. It is never with him as it is with certain earthly masters; the less they are known, the better are they liked; and the shorter the service under them is, the sweeter is it considered. Oh, no! our blessed Lord is better loved the better he is known; and the longer we serve him, the easier does his yoke prove to our shoulders. Personally, I can testify that I find it an ever-increasing joy to be his servant; and it is to me the source of pardonable pride that my two sons are in the service of the same Master; and I should not say that if I had found him to be a bad master. I know what some of you say, “I have such a hard taskmaster that I will never bring my boy to him, to be apprenticed;-not I.” But when you serve the Lord Jesus Christ, if you do but know him as he really is, you will wish to have all whom you love to be beloved of him, and it will be your heart’s delight to see them all earnestly engaged in his blessed service.

Talking thus of the Lord’s lovingkindness to any one of you personally, we might, in time, get to the end of the story; but, beloved, there are thousands of you here, who, unless you have grossly deceived yourselves, have a similar tale to tell. The lovingkindness of the Lord to any one of his children is a theme of wonder; but, to hundreds, to thousands, to millions, to a multitude that no man can number, O my blesssd Lord, thy lovingkindnesses are like the sand upon the seashore, or like the stars of heaven, innumerable! None but thyself can fully understand thyself.

“God only knows the love of God.”

It is beyond all the bounds of human thought, or speech, or calculation, or imagination.

I think, dear friends, that I have now shown you that there is plenty of room for thought upon the subject of the Lord’s lovingkindness. So now let me go on to say that this is a kind of worship in which all of you, who are God’s people, may engage. When I go home, after this service, I shall be able to say, “I have preached thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.” You will not all be able to say that, for, if we were all preachers, where would be the hearers? But I hope you will be able to say, “I have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God, in the midst of thy temple.” Perhaps your singing does not count for much, like mine,-more of a growl than a song, our musical friends say. Never mind if it is so; if you cannot sing, you can say to the Lord, “I have thought of thy lovingkindness; “ and that, after all, being the very essence and soul of worship, will be more profitable to you than if, without thought, you had spoken with the greatest eloquence, or sung only with your lips the sweetest notes of music. Ah! my dear sick sister over yonder, hardly fit to be out of your room, I hope you will be able to say, “I have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.” My poor old friend, up there in the gallery, who cannot even read the Scriptures, you also can join with us, my brother, in saying, “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.” Yes, my friend, though you have not the talent of communicating anything to others, for you feel so bashful, and are almost hiding your head even now while I am speaking, and although you scarcely think yourself worthy to come to the communion table with the Lord’s people, yet you know that you can chime in with us when we say, “We have thought of thy lovingkindness, O God.” I do delight in any form of worship in which everybody can join; and this is such that no one, who really loves the Lord, need keep himself out of the happy united assembly.

Yet, brethren, this practice of thinking of God’s lovingkindness is not universally followed. I am afraid that, in all congregations, there are many people who do not think at all; and many others, who do think, but they think about almost anything except the lovingkindness of the Lord. You missed your ring from your finger! You say to yourself, “Where did I leave those keys?” You are wondering how that sick child is! You are thinking about that pair of horses to be sold to-morrow! Oh, yes, under the most faithful ministries, these odds and ends of daily life will force their way in if they can; but they must be rigidly excluded when they take the place of that one theme that is really worthy of our thought. When the birds came down to