That Horrible East Wind!

A Sermon Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture, by Charles Spurgeon

"And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful." (Colossians 3:15, KJV)

"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, for to this you were called as members of one body. And be thankful." (Colossians 3:15, BSB)

I do not know how it is, but during the last two or three days I have been called to sympathize with an amount of sorrow such as I have seldom met with before in so short a space of time. One messenger of misery has followed on the heels of another, each one with heavy tidings. Nor is that all; for I have also been perplexed with a large amount of sinning, quarreling, and fault-finding. People are murmuring, grumbling, fretting, and fighting on all sides. So much has this tried me that I feel little fitted to act as a comforter, for I need comfort myself. I have endeavored to cheer others until I have drunk of their cup of sorrow, and put my own mouth out of taste. I have tried to make peace for others until I am half afraid of losing my own. I have answered the people's grumblings until I am tempted to have a growl or two on my own account. Perhaps I may relieve my own mind by the sermon which I hope to deliver.

I said to one whom I greatly esteem, "I do not know how it is, but everybody seems out of sorts with everybody else just now." His wise answer was, "THE WIND IS IN THE EAST." This fact accounts for a great deal, for

"When the wind is in the east,

'Tis neither good for man nor beast."

This is that ill wind which seems to blow no man any good. Some men feel the east wind terribly: it sets their teeth on edge, and they feel that they must bite the first person they meet. I am glad to find some sort of excuse for my fellow-Christians, and if I can find it nowhere but in the east wind, I will make the best I can of it; but I earnestly hope that the wind may soon blow from another quarter, and not come from the east again until we have had a little respite, and laid up a new stock of patience, if a cutting wind causes despondency, vexation, discontent, and bad temper, then may soft gales visit us frequently, and bring us healing in their wings. As fair weather will not last forever, it will be well to prepare ourselves to breast the blast. It will never do for us to have a religion which can be killed by the wind: we must be made of better stuff than that. Yet this wind is blamed, and I wish therefore that it would take itself off. If I could find a snug corner where the cruel east wind was never felt, I would feel inclined to promote an emigration movement for certain people whom I will not mention: as for myself, I am afraid that it would not suit me to be altogether screened from the wind, for trials are necessary to one who is called to this ministry. Troubles and east winds will come to the servants of God, and they are sent to do us good; for perhaps, if we could get our backs against a protecting wall, and sit forever in the sunshine, with no east wind to interfere with us, then we would go to sleep; or waking, we might come to love this world so well, as to be loath to leave it. It would be a horrible thing for any one of us if the south wind should softly breathe upon our cheek, and whisper gently in our ear of long-continued joy to be found on earth; for then we should be tempted to sit down and say, "Soul, take your ease. You have at last found a place free from the trials of time; therefore eat, drink, and be merry, and let the future world care for itself."

When I turn over in my mind the events of the last few days I do not suppose that there is more discord or discontent in the world just now than at any other time; but it happens that a number of black lines have all found their center in my person, and my thoughts have had to travel out in all those directions; all which is trying enough, but all the more so when the wind is in the east. It is a coincidence, but the like has happened before. I have had to unravel many tangled skeins in my time, out of love to others. I did not get the threads into a ravel, but people are very fond of bringing me their snarls to disentangle, and when I have a hope of succeeding I try my best. Gladly would I be a peace-maker, but it is much easier to make a snarl than to put it straight again, especially in the east wind. I have tried to set things right, and meanwhile I have asked myself, "Is there not a remedy for these mischiefs?" I feel assured there is such a remedy. Family discomfort, husbands and wives that cannot agree, domestic difficulties, brothers and sisters that fall out, church troubles, members that are not treated kindly by others (not generally the kindest sort of people themselves, I notice), difficulties in business, difficulties in preaching--the world teems with these things when the wind is in the east. We meet with many people who cannot earn enough wages, others who do not believe they were ever well treated since they were born; others, again, who are highly deserving people, but have never yet been appreciated as they should be; and these all come out in crowds when the wind is in the east. Godly men become aroused for something new, find fault with old friends, invite debate, and quarrel about nothing; and this happens most often when the wind is in the east.

When this kind of spirit gets among Christian people it is very sad; but surely there must be a remedy for it. Many panaceas are proposed, many quacks are ready to prescribe this and that form of remedy for troubles and discords, but the results of the east wind are not to be removed in that way: a higher power is needed. I have heard of pills for the earthquake, and medicine for the comet; but I have no such remedy for the east wind. All I have to tell you is borrowed from an old Book, in which the wisest prescriptions are to be found, prescriptions so excellent that, if they were followed, the inhabitant would no more say, "I am sick."

This windy night I shall take you to the great Physician of souls, Jehovah-Rophi--the Lord who heals us, who is able to cure all our diseases and to give permanent relief from all evil, so that our spirits shall be at rest. I believe that we have a prescription in this verse which, if it is well attended to, will deliver you out of all troubles, make you sing all your lives long, and help you to travel from earth to Heaven, and be all the while as happy as the birds in the air. Here it is, "Let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you are called in one body; and be thankful."

If we dissect our text we shall find in it four pieces of advice:

 

I. First, POSSESS THE PEACE OF GOD, "Let the peace of God rule in your hearts." It cannot rule in your hearts if you have never felt its power; therefore, make certain that you are truly reconciled to God by Jesus Christ. Many people have peace, but, alas, it is false peace! They have the peace of a soft, gentle, timorous, time-serving character--a base sort of peace, which, if it hurts no one else, often ruins its possessor. Some have the peace of ignorance, the peace of stupidity, the peace of utter indifference, false peace. These are the followers of those false prophets who cried, "peace, peace!" where there was no peace. Woe to the man whose peace of mind is like the deadly smoothness of the current just as it nears the cataract! Many are at ease in a condition which might make a wise man's hair turn grey in a night. They were never emptied from vessel to vessel, and therefore they are settled upon their lees; but they shall be poured out to their utter confusion. They think right well of themselves, but already the axe of judgment is lifted against them.

The peace that we need to possess is the peace of God, which means, I think, first, peace with God. Oh, what a blessed thing it is to feel that the great cause of quarrel between our fallen spirit and the great Spirit is taken away--that we are reconciled to God by the death of his Son--that sin, the great divider, has been cast into the depths of the sea, and that there is established between us and God a happy fellowship! I hope many of you are at this hour enjoying such peace. If you have it, then rejoice in it. If you, then, are at peace with God, do not perpetually act as if that peace were questionable and doubtful. Do not sigh and cry as if the matter trembled in the balance. If we believe in Jesus Christ, "being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Oh! the joy of knowing that "as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us," and that therefore they can never return from so immense a distance--yes, never return at all, for the Lord Jesus Christ has cast them into the depths of the sea, and if they are searched for, then they shall not be found; yes, they shall not be found, says the Lord. Blessed is that man who has peace with God through the atoning blood!

Growing out of this there comes, next, a peace with God with regard to all his providences, which can only come through a complete and entire submission to the divine will; for some there are who are not at peace with God, even about a certain providence that afflicted them years ago. They remain quarreling with God about the decease of a beloved wife, or child, or mother, and they cannot forgive God for having taken a flower out of his own garden. If they were wise, then they would not thus rebel, but find in their loving Savior a recompense for all their losses. Was not that fine of Andromache, when she remembered that she had lost all her relatives except her husband, and, gazing on him with delight, she said

"While my Hector still survives,

I see My father, mother, brethren, all in him"?

Cannot a believer say the same of the Lord Jesus? Far be it from us to raise a question about what the providence of God has already done! It must be right. The point is to keep on submitting to that providence in what is now transpiring. If for the present the will of the Lord should send me poverty, obscurity, pain, weariness, reproach, I must be at peace with God about it all. If the Lord says to me, "Go across the sea, and leave all your friends," I must not delay. If he says, "Preach unwelcome truth, which will make enemies for you;" I must not hesitate. If he says, "Keep to the house with rheumatism," I must not come out of doors. If the Lord says, "Lie on your back and cough," it is not for me to quarrel with him, and say it ought not so to be. If he denies us that which we think would make us not only more happy but more useful, it is of no use for us to kick against the goads. The divine appointment will certainly be fulfilled, and the misery to us will be in struggling against the yoke, in endeavoring to have it otherwise than divine love and infinite wisdom have determined it should be. If you cannot change your place, then change your mind, until your mind shall take to your place, and you shall love it. Why, there have been men so helped of God to conquer self, that they have hugged their crosses.

I think it is Rutherford who somewhere says that he was half afraid lest he should begin to love his cross, better than Christ. That is a fear which will seldom need to cross our minds; but, oh, we ought to be perfectly satisfied, perfectly content with that which pleases God! "If this is the Lord's will, then it is my will": such a saying comes from a happy heart; but if God has one will and we have another, it is clear that the peace of God does not yet rule our hearts. Though forgiven, and though the grand cause of quarrel is gone--yet we are raising minor points of difference, and these gender strife. It is like a great lawsuit that has been decided on all the grand features of the case, and yet here is the plaintiff picking little points, and raising little questions, and getting up fresh litigation. The point with us is to say, "It is all given up. Whatever you will, Lord, I will; or at least I wish to will. I ask for grace that I may will it, because you will it." This voluntary submission to our Father's appointment is the peace of God.

This peace of God is, also, peace such as God commends--such as God approves of. That, you know, is first, perfect peace with himself, and then with all men--certainly with his people, but also with all mankind. "If it be possible, as much as lies in you, live peaceably with all men." Take heed that you do not offend; and if you are offended by others, then do not offend in return, but accept the offence in patience; forgive it and forget it. Forbear, and, when you have done so, forbear, and, when you have done so again, forbear, and, when you have forborne seven times, still forbear. I will not repeat the advice seventy times seven, though if I did, I would not go beyond the measure of forbearance and of forgiveness which the Lord Jesus would have us display.

Be so at peace with God, that you feel perfectly at peace with your fellow-men. Whenever I have suffered a grievous wrong, it has been a satisfaction to me to feel that, if my Lord Jesus Christ made atonement for my offences and my wrongs, I can look at his atonement as an atonement for the wrong done to me as well as to God, for he satisfied all parties in that quarrel. Gladly do I say, "Surely, this poor soul may well be forgiven by me, for you have died as the sinners' Substitute."

In comparison with my own offences against God, I may well look upon this man's offence as less than nothing. What if men should do the worst they can do to us? What is it? What if they slay us? It is but a small loss to a Christian to die. Therefore let us harbor no malice, but feel, "No; we have entered into the truce of God, and we are the friends of every man that breathes." For my own part, I have a crusade against the devil and all evil; but the truce of God is upon me with regard to all my fellow-men, and henceforth that peace which was proclaimed at Bethlehem by the angels shall stand for me, "Peace on earth: good will toward men." This is a sweet part of the peace of God; cultivate it carefully.

But this peace is called the peace of God because it is peace which God works in the soul. I think I hear you exclaim, "To have such a peace as that--a perfect consciousness of full forgiveness, complete acquiescence in the will of God, perfect forgiveness towards all mankind, and an intense desire to live in perfect peace with all, both saints and sinners--how can I get such a peace within me?" Ah, indeed, how can you? It is impossible to unrenewed human nature. Man by nature is worse than any one wild beast, for he is a zoo of beasts. There is lion in him, and there is serpent in him; there is tiger in him, and there is wolf in him; there is dog in him, and there is devil in him. He is half beast and half devil through the fall. I do not caricature him; his body allies him to the beast, and sin makes him a child of Satan.

Mr. Whitefield used so to describe fallen nature, and he was pretty near the mark. How shall this wild beast be taught to love? Shall the lion eat straw like an ox? It never will until it leaves off being a lion. It cannot do so; it has not fit teeth for eating straw, nor a fit stomach for digesting grass. It cannot live on straw, like an ox, until God changes it, and gives it an ox-like nature. So it is with us: we need a new nature before we can possess this peace with God. But how is that to be done? Shall the Ethiopian change his skin? No; he cannot do that; and if he could, it would not equal the miracle which we require. Our default is not skin deep only, it is much more than that. Changing skins is difficult, but changing hearts is impossible except to God. Shall the leopard get rid of his spots? Well, that is difficult; but still the task of taking spots out of leopards would be small compared with the miracle of taking evil out of the very core of our wild-beast-like heart, and putting into it the peace of God that makes us love. God only can do it. God's own mighty Spirit must put forth that same energy with which he will raise the dead out of their graves at the resurrection; for nothing short of creation and resurrection power is able to transmute this beastly, devilish heart of ours into a heart in which the peace of God shall reign supreme. Well is it called the peace of God.

My dear hearer, do you know this peace? If so, you will understand that, because of its excellence, it is called the peace of God. It is a Hebraism: for among the Hebrews they called certain mountains that were higher than others, the hills of God; and certain gigantic trees, such as the cedars of Lebanon, were the trees of God that were full of sap. So the peace that is greater than every other peace is called the peace of God--it means the holiest, deepest peace. It is "perfect peace" peace that nothing disturbs: deep peace, "the peace of God, which passes all understanding": solemn peace at which you almost stand in awe--a hush within the soul in which there is heard nothing of discord or of fear, but a stillness reigns like that which was maintained in the Holy of Holies, within the veil, where seraphim were silent above the mercy-seat. "The peace of God" signifies the peace that never ends, everlasting peace; the peace that will live with us throughout the whole of our mortal sojourn until we come into the land of the immortal.

"There shall I bathe my weary soul

In seas of heavenly rest,

And not a wave of trouble roll

Across my peaceful breast."

"The peace of God." Oh, I have known it! You, too, my brethren, must have known it when the Lord himself has dwelt within your hearts, and kept all adversaries far away. You have then known days of Heaven upon the earth. It has left nothing to wish for except the perpetuation of itself, for you have been satisfied with favor and full of the goodness of the Lord, filled with all the fullness of God, anchored fast, settled, grounded, established.

"My heart is resting, O my God!

I will give thanks and sing.

My heart is at the secret source

Of every precious thing."

That is the peace of God.

Win it, dear friends, and wear it. By God's Holy Spirit enter into this serene haven. Rest in the Lord, and be happy in him, for he is our peace! When the Lord and Giver of peace once comes to tarry in your heart let him rest there; and charge all about you, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that they stir not up nor awake your love until he pleases.

But now the second piece of advice that grows out of the text let us consider.

II. If you possess this peace of God, let it occupy the throne: LET THE PEACE OF GOD RULE IN YOUR HEARTS.

In order to there being any peace in the heart, or anywhere else, there must be a ruler. Those people who are for putting down all kings and principalities and powers may bid farewell to peace. Anybody who is inclined to anarchy should read Carlyle's "French Revolution" through with care, and ask himself whether the worst king is not, after all, a great deal better than the despotism of the mob, the carnival of misrule, wherein every man does that which is right in his own eyes, and all eyes love darkness rather than light. Let loose the reins of government, let everybody be equal to everybody else, and a little bigger than everybody else as well--and you will soon see what confusion ensues.

See how it is in a house! I hear that there was great deliberation over those census-papers in many families to know who was the head of the household; but I am quite clear that it was not a happy household where that question took long to answer; for the husband is the head of the wife, and where he is not so, everything is out of order, monstrous, outrageous! Where the head is not the head, the hand is not the hand, the eye is not the eye, the heart is not the heart; and nothing is itself at all. All is what it should not be, and all is misery. You must have a governing faculty somewhere; and, within your own soul, if nothing governs, then I tell you boldly the devil governs. That man who does not control himself is controlled by the devil, for he must have a master somewhere. We cannot have two masters, but it is quite as certain that we must have one. One power or another will master you. Shall it be your Creator, or his enemy? Your Savior, or your destroyer?

It is a blessed gift of grace if a man is enabled by the Holy Spirit to say, "The peace of God shall rule in my heart." Paul advised this: "Let the peace of God rule in your hearts": if it is in your hearts at all, it must rule, for it has power to put down all rebellion.

You know, when we have a government and a magistracy with power at their back, if a riot arises, we appeal to the lawful power to come and protect us, and put down the uproar. So in our hearts, if we have a master principle, and that master principle is the peace of God, then we may warrantably pray, "O Lord, put down this riot. I am tossed to and fro in my heart about my circumstances. Come, peace of God; come, and put down my murmuring. Come and calm my wicked, discontented spirit."

Or do I feel some discord in my spirit towards one whom I ought to love? I must cry, "Come, peace of God. Come, and arrest this bad temper of mine. Handcuff it. Take it off to prison. Give it hard labor and no food; bring it down until it is no longer able to rebel as it does. Come, peace of God, and help me in the struggles of my daily life, that I may not break out into anger, and wrath, and malice, and all uncharitableness. Come, peace of God, put forth your mighty power over my soul." This is the great remedy for the discord within and the discords without: the grand cure for all distempers of the east wind, and all besides.

Yield yourself to the umpireship of the blessed peace of God, for I find that the Greek word has that force, "Let the peace of God umpire in your hearts." You know the umpire in the Greek games decided how the runners should run, how the wrestlers should wrestle, and he ruled a contest to be, or not to be, according to the law of the festival. He said, perhaps, that such and such a blow in the fight was a foul blow, and if he said so, there was no questioning him: it was decided. He stood at the winning-point when the runners came in, and he declared a certain swift-footed racer to be the winner. No man ever questioned the dictate of the umpire. His voice ended all debate. He was the man who decided in the games, and whose verdict was never to be disputed.

Now, the peace of God is to do the same in our hearts. We ought to be resolved to judge all things by the peace of God. "What ought I to do in this case? Must I humble myself? I do not like it, but how ought I to act? Shall I yield?"

Pride says, "Never! No, no. Play the man. Never give in."

But what does the peace of God say? It says, "Yield, submit." Christ says, "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you not to resist an evil person. If someone slaps you on your right cheek, turn to him the other also; if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well; and if someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you." Matthew 5:38–42

Christ decides that it will be good to be a sufferer rather than a revenger. We ought to have the peace of God ruling in our hearts so as to let it decide our course, and lead us to do that which is consistent with our own peace with God. I do not know how you find it, but I know that I cannot afford to be angry. It takes so much that is valuable out of me. I am sure it does. It does a man an immense mischief physically; to some men it is a dangerous thing to get excited, it even endangers their lives. But, spiritually, I believe that to get into a state of enmity towards anybody is one of the most grievous sins which can befall a Christian. In such a case you cannot pray as you did; you cannot read some passages of Scripture as you did; you cannot look the Well-beloved in the face, and say, "I am acting in a way that pleases you!" It is, therefore, a very serious thing for a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ to break his own peace--serious to himself as well as to those that are around about him. I entreat you, therefore, dear friends, let the peace of God decide for you in all trials of temper, and endurings of wrong, and questions which lead to debate and separation. Set peace in the chariot, and let it hold the reins; for anger will, like Phaeton of old, set the world on fire. Oh, Peace of God, rule me!

Pray God that the power of this peace may be constantly upon you. If you lose your peace with God, then you lose your power to judge under difficulties; you lose your power of self-control under provocations, you lose the best sovereign that ever held a scepter. I believe that if a man is walking with God in the light, and enjoying full fellowship with Him, then he may go down into any meeting, however turbulent--into any society, however discordant the elements may be--and yet he will be wise to answer, wise to be silent, wise to do, or wise not to do; for the peace of God will keep him calm and quiet.

Once let the mind be thoroughly disturbed and unhinged before the Lord, and you are weak as another man, and you say that which you will have to unsay, and you do that which you would wish to wipe out with your tears. When rest of soul is gone, then hard things are spoken and hard things are done, which would not consort with communion with the tender Lord. Let the peace of God always rule, or otherwise you will not always be safe.

Especially let the peace of God rule your affections. Be satisfied that you love God, and that your heart cleaves to God, and does not follow after any other. Be at peace with God as to your heart, and, when that is so, and the affections are dominated by conscious love to God, it is then that you fight the battles of life with comfort to yourself, and with honor to the name of him to whom you belong.

 

III. Very briefly, I want, in the third place, to say, STRENGTHEN YOURSELF, dear friend, BY GOD'S SPIRIT, WITH ARGUMENTS, in order that you may let the peace of God rule in your hearts, and may be kept from any breach of that heavenly peace.

Remember, you can only yourself be happy in heart and healthy in spirit, as long as you keep the peace of God. You are sure to become wretched and unhappy, you are sure to stumble here and there into faults, if that peace of God is gone. As you would be in the best possible trim for walking with God in joy while here below, look to your peace. This is no small argument; try to feel the force of it.

And, next, only thus can the church of God prosper. I am grieved when I receive members from other churches, who come because they say that they are weary of the incessant bickerings and jealousies which have disturbed their rest. I am sure that there can be no blessing, where there is no peace. A house divided against itself cannot stand. A church disputing is a church committing suicide. Many a church has come to its death by bleeding inwardly through strife; otherwise it might have defied the whole world, and Hell itself.

It is generally the little churches that squabble most: if they cannot excel in anything else, they certainly claim the first rank in quarreling. A few Christian people get together to serve God, and the devil comes in at once and sets them by the ears: they are godly men and true, but Satan bewitches them so that they dispute about nothing at all. Whenever I have to settle a dispute, I always like to have some big, bad thing in it. This I can point out, and we soon agree to set the matter right. When I cannot with microscopes on my eyes find out what it is all about, I find that brothers and sisters are hardest to be reconciled. It is easier to shoot an owl, than a gnat. Little differences rankle like tiny thorns, and you cannot get them out of the flesh. Oh, that the Spirit of God would come upon the churches, and turn them into masses of fire; then they would not fall to pieces through internal strife! When souls are being won, when the gospel is being enjoyed, when Christ is being glorified, when the church is marching on, conquering and to conquer through the divine power that is in her, then is there peace within her borders, and her citizens are filled with the finest of the wheat. But once let the life of God run low, and let the Spirit of God depart, then peace departs too. Oh, may God save this church and save all the churches from missing this blessed peace! Let the peace of God rule in your heart, dear brother, dear sister, for the church's sake.

Remember, next, that God cannot be glorified, unless there is the peace of God in our hearts. My dear friend, if you are always troubled, and fretting, and anxious, I do not see how you can glorify God to any large extent. Seek more faith, more trust, more confidence, more calm of mind--and you will personally glorify God. I am sure a Christian man who always finds fault with everybody, is of little service to the cause and kingdom of our Lord. He who, wherever he goes, acts like a carrion crow, that soars aloft with no other design than finding out where a carcass may be, that he may feed upon it--he, I say, is not a man after God's own heart, neither will he advance the Lord's work among men. When you love your fellow Christians so that their faults are covered by your charity, and you rather admire their excellencies than publish their infirmities, then it is that God is glorified by you. A happy, peaceful people of whom men can say, "See how these Christians love one another"--these shine as lights in the world, and the darkness feels their power.

The passage from which our text is taken offers us other reasons. It says this, "To which also you are called." You were called to the peace of God. My dear brother, if you are not a peaceful man you have not inherited your true calling. When the Lord called you out from the world, then he called you to be a peace-maker. He called you on purpose that the Spirit of peace might be shed abroad in your heart, and that afterwards you might carry that peace with you into your own family and among all your neighbors, and spread it everywhere.

The Lord Jesus never called a man to be a maker of strife. If a Christian woman, as she calls herself, goes from house to house with tittle-tattle, she was not called by God to do so: of that, I am certain. A man goes into his pulpit, and preaches a personal attack on purpose to empty out his own spleen. God did not call him to that, for God loves not firebrands. The man may have been sent as a messenger from other regions, but certainly not as an ambassador from Heaven, when he preaches gall and wormwood. Some seem, wherever they go, to make mischief as speedily as possible: their mission is contention, whereunto they certainly were not called of God. You who are the true heirs of Heaven are called to peace; seek peace, and pursue it. Wherever you go, labor earnestly to make peace.

If you see two boys fighting, make them stop. If you see two girls in a bad temper, try to make them happy with one another. If you see two people disagree in business, do not back one of them up, and cry, "Go to law with him," but plead for peace and mutual concession. "Blessed are the peace-makers." Whatever you may be in a household, whether father or child, husband or wife, master or servant, son-in-law or mother-in-law, let your soul be seasoned and savored with that blessed word, "Peace."

There is always a war party in England: I fear the wrangler is no foreigner, but the genuine offspring of the British bull-dog. An unconverted Britisher is all for blood, and fire, and glory; and as the unconverted are the majority among us, we remain a fighting nation. Fighting--how we delight in it! Down with the Afghans, down with the Zulus! The Boers--destroy them! We cannot get our fill of glory and honor, unless we get knee deep in blood. The policy of peace is voted dishonorable, and so we go from land to land until there is hardly a nation which has not been stained with blood by British hands. How fiercely these English people talk: but it is not Christian talk. May the Lord teach us the language of peace. Be at peace, "whereunto also you were called."

And then, notice next, "Called in one body." There must, therefore, be peace among Christians, because we are called in one body to peace. What would you think of my hand, if it should say, "I will have no peace with the eye. That prying eye looked sharply at me the other day and spied out a spot; I will rip it out"? We shall not enjoy much prosperity if the members of the body thus disagree. Suppose my foot should say, "I am not going to carry that heavy body about. See what I have to suffer through it at times." Suppose my knee should say, "I will not have it. I have been tortured quite enough with rheumatism; I will no longer carry that heavy body." What will become of me if the members of my body thus fall to quarreling? And what is to become of the glory of Christ if his members live in contention? What is the Head to do if the members who make up his one mystical body have nothing to do but to be striving one against the other? Oh, no. If you have any differences, end them tonight, I entreat you, if you can, even though the east wind is so piercing. If you have unwittingly done anything that grieves others, then try to remedy it. Or if others have grieved you, then end the matter by sweet and swift forgiveness. Let it be all ended with the east wind. We are called in one body; therefore let us dwell in hearty peace; and may God the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of peace, bring us into the peace of God, and keep us there, for thereunto also we are called in one body.

 

IV. The last point upon which I shall speak is this--to keep yourselves right, OCCUPY YOUR MINDS HEALTHILY. "How?" you say. The text says, "Be thankful." That is the way to keep up our peace with God. "Be thankful." Do not complain, but bless his name for everything. Do not quarrel with him, but be thankful. Say, "Shall we receive good at the hands of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil? The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away, and blessed be the name of the Lord." That is the way to be at peace with him--to be thankful at all times. Bless God for your mercies and for your miseries; bless him for your gains and for your losses; bless him for your enjoyments and pleasures, and also for your aches and pains. Bless him for every hard thing that comes from him, for there is as much love in the hard as in the soft; and God is as kind when he uses the rod as when he gives a kiss. "Be thankful!" Bless him from morning to night, and all through the night watches.

What a mercy to be out of the hospital! What a mercy to have the use of one's limbs and reasoning powers! What a mercy to be out of prison! What a mercy to be out of Hell! "He has not dealt with us after our sins." Be thankful.

Last Sunday morning when I read this chapter in the great congregation, I tried to ring it out as loudly as ever I could; and I would like to ring it out as with a whole peal of bells now. Set them all ringing a marriage-peal, if you like, "Be thankful! Be thankful! Be thankful!" Up, you murmuring ones! Up, you discontented ones ones! "Be thankful." Rouse yourselves, you sullen ones! You that think you have a heavier load to carry than is necessary, and say, like Cain, "My burden is greater than I can bear" "Be you thankful!" All of you, young and old, "Be thankful." That is the way to keep up your peace with God, and your peace with your fellow-men.

Well, but it does not mean only, "Be thankful to God," but be thankful to your fellow-men. Too many receive all kinds of Christian kindness as a matter of course. They look upon the spontaneous kindness of their brethren, as a sort of right.

Now, that the poor should be helped by Christian generosity is certainly according to Scripture; but this is an obligation not of debt, but of grace. Whatever is done in almsgiving and charity should be gratefully and heartily received. It is an unholy spirit which scarcely has the courtesy to say "thank you." Towards one another we ought to have a thankful spirit.

How thankful the child ought to be to his mother and his father! What a happy home we would have if children recognized the deep debt of obligation that is really due to those who have nursed them and cared for them so long! How obliged, I think, the husband ought to be to his wife for all her tender kindnesses--those hundred unseen ministries of love! How grateful, I think, the wife should be to her husband, for all his labors and anxieties! She receives a thousand things from him which make life comfortable. If we live in mutual gratitude, feeling that we are, each one of us, indebted to all others, then how merrily will the household wheels go round, and what families of love we shall all gather around us! I, of all the people in the world, am most in debt to everybody; and I feel it deeply and truly. There is hardly a person that I look upon from this pulpit, but I owe something to his or her Christian love. Everybody has been kind to me, and I am not unmindful of it. When I have lain upon my bed sick and ill, I have marveled at the kindness of you all. I wonder why you treat me so lovingly. In all holy work, whether it be College, or Orphanage, you have been my ready helpers, and you are still. I cannot help saying, "God bless you." Surely the wind is changing a point or two: we shall find it blowing from another quarter, when we leave this Tabernacle. I feel intense gratitude in my soul towards the dear brethren who surround me, and the sisters that work with me for Christ. You have often made me happy and cheered my spirit by the kind and generous way in which you have worked with me for the Lord, bearing with all my infirmities; and I believe that it is because I feel thankful that I feel peaceful, and so remain the center of your unity. I am not inclined to quarrel with anybody: I would sooner run a mile than I would fight for half a minute. There is nobody in the world that I would like to contend with: my heart is full of good wishes to all men. It has been a sort of rule with me to measure a man before I fight him: if he is bigger than I am, then I know he will beat me, and so I decline battle; and if he is smaller, and I can easily beat him, then it would be cruel and cowardly to do so. Nobody in the world is worth contending against, as to our temporal interests. Even necessary law is troublesome and vexatious. Be thankful, then; and if, with thankfulness to God and thankfulness to those around you, you can fill up the day, oh, how happy will the days be! In the family and in the business, God will be glorified; the church will be sweetened and welded together: we shall see better times, and shall no longer grumble at the east wind.

May God bless you!

Portion of scripture read before sermon--John 13.

 

 

 

August 10, 2026. Good. POST

The Use of the Bow

A Sermon Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture, by Charles Spurgeon

"And David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan his son. Also he bade them to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow." 2 Samuel 1:17–18

I accept the passage as our learned translators understood it: David bade them teach the children of Judah the bow. If any inquire, "What then is the connection? Why should David teach the people the use of the bow because Saul and Jonathan were slain? Why is the military order concerning the use of a certain instrument of war inserted here, when the passage is full of lamentation?" I answer: most fitly, as I shall have to show you. It was the best memorial of that skillful archer Jonathan, and of the other princes who had fallen by the arrows of the Philistines, that from the disastrous day of their slaughter David caused his own tribe over which he had chief power to be trained in the use of that special weapon of war.

 

I. The first lesson is this: ACTIVITY IS A VALUABLE SOLACE FOR SORROW. The people were very grieved; for Saul and Jonathan, the king and the crown prince, were slain. David indulges their grief: he writes them a plaintive song which the daughters of Israel may sing. But to take off their minds from their distress, he at the same time issues the order to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow, for activity is an effectual remedy in the time of sorrow. Certainly the opposite of it would tend towards blank despair.

Are any of you in great grief? Have you suffered a supreme loss? Do not be tempted to brood over your affliction, and to think that you ought to be excused from further service. Do not shut yourself up alone to ruminate upon the great ill that has befallen you, so as to nurse your displeasure against God: this can do you no good whatever. Rather imitate David, who, when his child was sick, fasted and prayed; but when it was dead, went into the house and ate bread, for he said, "Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."

I beseech you do not fall under the temptation of Satan to cease from your daily activity, and especially from any holy service in which you are engaged for Christ. It may be that your sorrow is not a bereavement, but disappointment in your work. You have not won those souls that you looked to win, and some that you thought were converted have gone back; and now Satan tempts you to do no more--never to cast the net again, for you have toiled all night and caught nothing--never to sow again, for you have wasted your seed by the highway, and birds have devoured it. This is a suggestion of the evil one. It will lead you into deeper anguish. I would say to you, O mourner, get up from the couch of ease! Shake yourself from the dust, O virgin daughter of Zion! Sit not down upon the dunghill in your grief, but bestir yourself, lest you sink into blacker woe, and your bitterness become as wormwood and gall.

While inaction will lead into blank despair, I am certain that work distracts the mind from the sad point upon which it is apt to thrust itself. Nothing is more healthy than to have work to do. I have seen people of leisure give way most terribly in the case of the loss of children; while I have known laboring people, who, I believe, have been as sensitive in heart, who have kept up bravely. Under God, I have attributed the difference to the fact that the poor woman must go to earn her daily bread, or must get about her domestic duties whatever happens, and the poor man must do his daily task, or else the family will be in need; thus toil has proved to be a blessed necessity by withdrawing the mind from the sorrow which would have engrossed it.

You have heard of Alexander Cruden. Perhaps you do not know that he was crossed in love, and met with certain other trials which drove him nearly mad; and yet Alexander Cruden did not become insane, for he engaged upon the immense work of forming a concordance of sacred Scripture, which concordance has become the great instrument by which we search the Word of God. This work kept him from becoming altogether insane.

If I had to prescribe to "a diseased mind," I would say, "Enter upon good work, and keep at it." Dear friends, if you are in trouble, and Satan tempts you to get alone, and to cease from the work of the Lord, then resist the injurious suggestion. God the Holy Spirit is most likely to comfort you, and to apply the precious promises of his Word to your soul, if you pursue your Master's work with all your heart. Attend to his business, and he will attend to your business. Tell poor sinners about his wounds, and he will bind up yours. Forget your cross, in his. Forget your griefs, in the griefs of men who are perishing for lack of knowledge; and you shall find the readiest way to consolation.

A valuable solace for sorrow is activity, especially, I think, in reference to new work. It will help you much if a new trouble suggests to you new service. Old work does not always take off the mind from its vexations, for we are apt to do it mechanically, and as a matter of routine; but something altogether fresh, will aid us sweetly to forget our trial. Oh, to strike out some new path! To invent new honors for Jesus, new enterprises for his kingdom, new attractions for his gospel--this will help to charm away our griefs.

With many, the doing of any kind of service for Christ will be quite a novelty. I grieve to say it. These people are desponding. I am not so grieved at that, because if any man will not work, neither shall he eat; and if a Christian will not serve his Master, then he shall not feast with the King's worthies. Oh, how much of joy many of you miss by not doing more for the poor, more for the ignorant, more for Christ!

The poet Rogers tells us--and he throws the story into poetry which I forget--of a rich man in Venice who was the subject of despair, and became such a hypochondriac that he went down to the canal to drown himself; but on the way he was met by a poor little boy who tugged at his skirts, and begged for bread. When the rich man called him an impostor, the boy besought him to come home with him, and see his father and mother who were dying of starvation. He went up into the room, and found the family literally perishing for lack of food. He laid out the money which he had in his pocket in making them all glad with a hearty meal, and then said to himself that there was something worth living for after all! He had found a novel enjoyment, which gave a fresh motive for living.

I would like to ask you who have suffered a great trouble, whether the Lord may be pressing you by this means into a new path of delight, directing you to a fresh method of glorifying God and doing good to your fellow-men. I will sing you a song if you will, as sorrowful as David's lament; but I would rather teach you the use of the bow. I believe that I shall minister better to your comfort, if I enlist you as soldiers in Christ's army, and teach you to use his weapons, than if I should console you with the most plaintive minstrelsy of sadness.

Do I speak to any here present who endure great earthly afflictions, but know nothing of spiritual things? Is it not the case that God often brings his wandering children to himself by distresses? The way in which you are to be comforted, dear friends, is not by going into the world again, and seeking further pleasures there. If God means to bless you, he may allow you to become so hungry that you may wish to fill your belly with the swine's husks. You have spent your living riotously, and now you are ready to despair. Round by that dark corner of despair, may be the way to your Father's house. To expel your present temporal grief, you need a spiritual grief concerning sin. If you learn of Jesus at this hour to repent of sin, and to put your trust in him, your soul will be roused to say, "I will arise, and go unto my Father," and then you will lose your hunger, and forget the swine-trough. Where? Why, amidst the music and dancing of your Father's house, and in the joy of hearing him say, "Let us eat, and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found."

Yes, David was right. The way to raise the people out of their despondency, was to teach them the use of the bow; their own arrows would slay their griefs: and the way to get you mourning ones out of your sorrow is to teach you those holy activities which lead a soul to trust in Christ, and to find salvation at his feet.

That is the first lesson which, I think, the text most sweetly teaches.

 

II. A second lesson is that AN ADMIRABLE USE OF DISASTER, IS TO LEARN ITS LESSONS. What was the disaster? Saul and Jonathan had been shot by archers. The Philistines were evidently strong in the use of the bow; but Saul's army was short of archers, and so they were not able to smite the Philistines at a distance. Before they came to close quarters, where Israel might have been a match for Philistia, the arrows of the Philistines had reached their king. Had they known how to use the bow, they might have been conquerors; and therefore David hastens to teach the men of Judah the use of the bow.

Beloved friends, I will suppose that you have met with failures: I refer to disasters peculiar to yourselves. What shall you do? Sit down and fret and trouble yourselves, and give up in despair? God forbid. As the men of Judah learned the use of the bow through their being beaten by the bow, then so should you gather wisdom from that which has befallen you. Have you been made to fly before your adversary? Then find out where your weakness is. Search and see. Is it a sin indulged? Is it some point where you ought to have been guarded, but where you have been unwatchful? Is it weakness in prayer? Is it neglect of the Word of God? Is it indifference to divine truth? Is it coldness of heart? Or what is it? If you have been defeated, there is a cause for it. If you have been cast down and brought low, say unto God, "Show me why you contend with me." Has the Lord a controversy with you? Be not content until you have got to the bottom of it, and found out the root that bears this gall and wormwood. Is not this the way of wisdom? May it not happen that the cause of the disaster, is that God is not with you? What if nothing prospers with you? What if it is vain for you to rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the bread of care, since the hand of God is against you? What if you are to have no pleasure in the things that once gave you satisfaction, because God has set you as a target for his arrows, and in wrath is shooting at you? It may be so.

Or you may not be one of his children at all as yet, and he may be tossing you to and fro like a ball, that you may never find rest until you humbly come and cry to Christ, and seek mercy at his hands. Look and see whether it be so. It is of no use to worry about the disaster; search out the cause of it. Strive to learn the lesson which it is meant to teach you. Is there any secret sin with you?

Perhaps by looking at the defeat, then you may learn the way to victory. David judged that if they were defeated by the bow, then they might yet win by the bow. It is right to learn from our adversaries. There is something to be learned from Satan. If he goes about like a roaring lion, then let us be diligent; if he seeks whom he may devour, then let us seek whom we may save; and if he watches carefully to find out our weak points, then let us watch those whom we would bless to find out how we may best reach their hearts.

Many a man has grown rich through poverty, healthy through sickness, and holy by being made conscious of sin. When he has been struck down, then has he cried out to God, and God has lifted him up. Woe to that man who will not "hear the rod, and him who has appointed it."

I pray that you may diligently learn the lesson which every disaster would teach. May not a misfortune which happens to a church and to Christian people, be to them a call to action--to general action? Saul had a little standing army, and did not drill all the nation for war; but David says, "I will teach all my own tribe the use of the bow."

Now, whenever a church begins to get low, dull, stupid--and many churches go in that direction--when everybody seems to be asleep, and the minister's sermon is a kind of sanctified snore, and all the worship is steeped in slumber, then what is to be done? Then is the time to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow, and to wake them all up to holy enterprise. Say to them, "You must not allow a few to be doing the work of Christ, but all must do it. You must all be taught the use of the bow."

It was the glory of the Moravians that all their members were missionaries; and such ought to be the glory of every church: every man, woman, and child in the church should take part in the battle for Jesus. This, by God's grace, is the cure for spiritual decline: teach the people the use of the bow.

Let us learn lessons from defeat. Let us learn from the sin which has cast us down, to cry unto God, the mighty One, to hold us up. If we are at this time under some great failure in life, let us learn greater care: if we have been permitted to err, let us learn to watch. Do not sullenly confess, "I have done wrong"; but repent of it, and ask God for grace that you may be upheld in the future, like Peter, who was stronger after his fall than before it, and was set to strengthen his brethren. What is done cannot be undone, but we may so learn from it by God's teaching, that we may never do the like again. May God grant that this may be the case. If it were proper, I could sing to you tonight a song of mourning over the disasters of a soul, or of a church; but I believe that I would not do you half so much good as by stirring you up to learn the use of the bow, that is to say, to rectify your errors, and supply your defects.

 

III. Now, thirdly, another lesson. A NOBLE MONUMENT TO A FRIEND IS TO IMITATE HIS EXCELLENCIES. How does that come from the text? Why, thus. When Jonathan and David communed together they fixed the meeting by Jonathan's shooting certain arrows: it is evident that Jonathan was a man who greatly favored the use of the bow; and though his father did not largely introduce it into the army--yet Jonathan was well skilled therein.

"Well then," says David, "in memory of Jonathan, instead of piling up a great monument, we will teach the use of the bow to the children of Judah." Come, brethren, let this be your memorial to your dear father--if he was a child of God, then be like him. If you want to keep in memory your beloved mother, then exhibit in yourselves the virtues that shone in her. That sweet child of yours has gone to Heaven, and can never be forgotten, and her likeness hangs over the mantelpiece. I mean that dear little child who sang of Jesus when she died: if you want to remember her beyond all forgetfulness, then love her Savior, and go where little Jane has gone. No memorial is more fit than imitation: be yourself the monument by exhibiting within yourself all that was good in the dear departed one.

How specially true is this in connection with our divine Lord! I see the Romanist continually putting up crosses by the roadside, and sometimes on these there are hideous representations of a person dying by crucifixion, and there are nails, and sponge, and spear, and I know not what. This arises out of a natural desire to perpetuate the memory of the crucified Redeemer; but you will do far better, dear brother, if you are yourself crucified with Christ, and if you exhibit in your own person that divine self-denial, that blessed love, that superlative holiness, which were found in him.

Some will build a church, and lavish money upon architecture. I shall not condemn them, for their splendid generosity may savor of the spirit of that woman who broke the alabaster box and poured the ointment upon the Savior's feet; but I would suggest that to build up the Christ-like character within one's self, by the power of God's Spirit, is a better memorial than the best piece of architecture that can ever be put together.

What if you should employ the greatest of statuaries, and he, with cunning hand, should mold the marble until it emulated life? Would not the monument mainly keep in mind the artist, and rather make men think of the costliness of the work, than of anything else? Whereas, if you become yourself the image of Christ, not in marble, but in living flesh--then men will take knowledge of you that you have been with Jesus, and have learned of him, and this will keep him best in memory. If we do what Christ would have done under our circumstances, then we shall be exhibiting a far better memorial of him than wealth can possibly purchase.

When David taught these people the use of the bow, every time they stringed an arrow they might remember Jonathan; and whenever a regiment of archers went through the streets, they brought Jonathan before the public mind. David instituted this form of royal artillery on purpose that Jonathan might be kept in mind.

In the same way, dear friends, every time you go forth to do the service of God, obediently and zealously, as Jesus did it, then you put men in mind of Jesus, and they say, "God has set these men in the world to be witnesses for Christ, to keep his name alive in the earth. These men are a blessing, because Jesus himself has blessed them." I would thus stir you all up to endeavor all the days of your life so to live and serve God, that the name of Jesus Christ shall be kept alive in this nation, and throughout the world.

Lastly, and but for a moment, I think that the form which this military order took, to teach the children of Judah the use of the bow, may be allegorically applied tonight to you, dear friends.

 

IV. IT IS A GREAT ADVANTAGE TO BELIEVERS TO LEARN THE USE OF THE BOW SPIRITUALLY.

First, there is the bow of prayer. Its use has not gone out of date; but I wish that all of us knew how to shoot the arrows of the Lord's deliverance much better than we do. Holy men of old would pick out an arrow, and when they had chosen it, they knew how to use it. They knew what they wanted, and they prayed for it. They fitted their arrow on the string: that is to say, they took God's promise, the promise that answered to their desire, and fitting the one to the other, they took straight aim at Heaven, and watched the flight of the arrowy petition. They knew to whom they were praying, as well as what they were praying for, and why they expected to be heard; and so they drew the bow of prayer with all their might.

When the man of God went up to the top of Carmel, and there took his bow and drew it, there was no fear of his missing the mark; or if, perhaps, the arrow had not force enough, he would pull the bow a second time, and a third time, and a fourth time, and a seventh time--until at last the arrow struck the mark. He would not come down from his watch-tower until he knew that the arrow of his prayer was lodged in Heaven. In all times of tribulation what is needed is that the children of Judah should know the use of the bow of prayer.

When we heard of those fearful assassinations in Ireland, the news reached the bulk of us on the Sabbath-day, and men of God went to their holes of retreat, and shot up to Heaven prayers for poor Ireland. It was the best thing that could be done. I have more faith in prayer, than in police and prisons. In any time of national need the men that save a nation are the men of prayer. What, not the wise statesmen? Certainly, wise statesmen; but who makes them wise? God has power over all minds, and, in answer to the prayer from this pulpit, he can visit yonder mind in Ireland. From a humble cottage in the western highlands, there may go up to God a cry that shall come down upon the Prime Minister, and direct his thoughts.

Remember what Queen Mary used to say when she wanted to bring popery back to Scotland. She said that she was more afraid of John Knox's prayers than of all the armies that the Scottish lords could get together. She was right for once. When men overlook prayer, then they overlook the greatest factor in human affairs. The mystical rod of God is in the hand of many a Moses still among us--a rod which brings victory to Israel, and defeat of Amalek. The strength of the church lies not in the oratory of the pulpit, but in the oratory of the prayer closet. That church of God that shall do most for the world, is the church that shall do most with God. He can rule men for God, who is ruled by God for men: he who gives up his soul to God that God may write his will upon his life, is the mighty man. The man who has had the will of God wrought in him by the Holy Spirit, and can work it out into fervent prayer, is the man who, though princes and potentates know it not, sits nearer to the helm of affairs than they can reach.

I could write you a plaintive hymn about the woes of Ireland, and about the sins of men and the evils of the times; but I had far rather teach you the use of the bow of prayer; for then, if you could send your longings up to the Lord, full many a blessing would come upon the land, and the adversaries of the Lord would be conquered, and peaceful and happy days would dawn.

Perhaps I speak to some here who do not know anything about praying. I dare say that the brother is here who listened to a sermon on Peckham Rye, which was rather a wild one, I am afraid. In that discourse the preacher said to all his congregation that if they would go home and ask God for anything, then the Lord would give it to them. I cannot endorse so wild a statement. However, this man thought that the preacher having said it, it was true, and having never prayed before in all his life, he put the question to the test of a certain event; and that certain event happened just as he desired. Then he began to tremble, for he judged that assuredly there is a God.

Now, I do not say to you, dear hearers, that whatever all of you shall ask in prayer you shall receive. I would not say that to you ungodly ones. But I do say that if you will ask for mercy and salvation and eternal life, and anything that is promised to believing sinners, then you shall have it. I wish you would try the experiment, for you would find that the Lord never breaks a promise. If you read a promise made to a lost sinner, then it is made to you: go and plead it, and the Lord will grant it. I will be surety for him that he will keep his Word. Trust him and try, and thus learn the use of the bow.

God bless you for Christ's sake. Amen.

Portion of scripture read before sermon--Psalm 61.

 

 

 

 

 

August 10, 2026. Very good to excellent post

The Orphan's Father

A Sermon Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture, by Charles Spurgeon

"For in you the fatherless finds mercy." Hosea 14:3

The Lord God of Israel, the one only living and true God, has this for a special mark of his character, that in him the fatherless finds mercy. "A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation." False gods of the heathen are usually notable for their supposed power or cunning, or even for their wickedness, falsehood, lustfulness, and cruelty; but our God, who made the heavens, is the Thrice Holy One. He is the holy God, and he is also fall of love. Indeed, it is not only his name, and his character, but his very nature, for "God is love." Among the acts which exhibit his love is this--that he executes righteousness and judgment for all that are oppressed, and specially takes under his wing the defenseless ones, such as the widow and the fatherless.

This is very notable if you look into the subject in connection with holy Scripture. We see this soon after the giving of the law. We have the law in the twentieth chapter of Exodus; and in the twenty-second chapter of the same book, close upon the heels of the law, you have God's Word concerning the fatherless. Listen to Jehovah's words: they are strong and forceful; there is a thunder about their sound: "You shall not afflict any widow, or fatherless child. If you afflict them in any way, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry; and my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless." These are the words of that Jehovah who spoke the ten commands on Sinai. See how very near to the heart of our God, lies the cause of the widow and the fatherless.

The Lord gave the law a second time in the book of Deuteronomy. If you turn to the tenth chapter of that book, at the seventeenth verse, you will find such a statute as this, "For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, mighty, and awesome God, showing no partiality and accepting no bribe. He executes justice for the fatherless and widow, and He loves the foreigner, giving him food and clothing." Those are two strong and striking proofs of the fact that the cause of the fatherless lies near to the heart of God.

Laws were made on their behalf, and among the rest was the institution of tithes. I have read some amazing statements upon the divine right of tithes. It seems to be established in the minds of some that if God gave the tithes to Levi he must, therefore, have given them to Episcopalian ministers: an inference which I fail to see. I would just as soon draw the inference that he had given them to Baptist ministers; certainly it would be no more illogical. The idea of our being priests, or Levites, in order to get compulsory tithes, would be too abhorrent to be entertained for a moment. But while I have often seen the divine right of tithes stated and argued, I have never heard it urged that the tithes should go to those for whom God set them apart under the legal dispensation.

Now, if you will turn to Scripture, you will find that the tithe of all the produce of the land was to be given to the Levite and to the stranger, and to the widow and the fatherless; and whenever tithe comes to be properly distributed, if there be any divine right in it at all, it will most certainly be given to the widow and the fatherless. We should agree to its being given in part to the Levite when he turns up, but as we do not know who the Levite is at present, we may keep his portion in abeyance until he appears. But the widow and the fatherless are still here among us, and the poor shall never cease out of the land; and as the institution of the tithe was as much for them as it was for the tribe of Levi, let them have their share. The tribe of Levi had certain rights, because, while the other tribes had each a portion, that tribe had no inheritance, and therefore took out its share in having a part of the tithe, and certain cities to dwell in. Read Deuteronomy 14:29, "Then the Levite (because he has no portion or inheritance among you), the foreigner, the fatherless, and the widow within your gates may come and eat and be satisfied. And the LORD your God will bless you in all the work of your hands."

I do not know that Episcopalian clergymen have given up their earthly inheritances any more than Nonconformist ministers, and I cannot therefore see that they have the Levite's claim; but I see clearly the right of the widow and the fatherless, and I pray that the day may come when they will get their share of what is undoubtedly theirs, if it is anybody's at all.

Another ordinance was made about the widow and the fatherless--that when the people gathered in the harvest, if they omitted a sheaf of corn, they were never to go back for it, but were to leave it for the widow and the fatherless. "When you are harvesting in your field and you overlook a sheaf, do not go back to get it. Leave it for the alien, the fatherless and the widow, so that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands." In gathering in the corn, the field was not raked, but all that fell was left to the widow and the fatherless. It was expressly commanded that when they gathered the grapes they were never to gather a second time, but were to leave the bunches to be ripened for the widow and the fatherless. "When you beat your olive-tree, you shall not go over the boughs again: it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow." Nobody was forgotten in the divine rule when Jehovah was King in Israel; but especial mention was continually being made of these two classes--the widow and the fatherless, and the poor strangers that happened to be within Israel's gates. "You shall be kind to the stranger," said the Lord, "because you were a stranger in the land of Egypt, and you know the heart of a stranger." I call your special attention to this, and beg you to look through Scripture, and see how again and again God calls upon his people to take care of the widow and the fatherless. Job, that upright man whom God accepted, disclaimed for himself the charge that he had ever forgotten the widow and the fatherless; and you know how, under the New Testament, it is written, "Pure and undefiled religion before God the Father is this: To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." It is established, then, that God, even the God of Israel, is one in whom the fatherless finds mercy: let us take care of them too. "Be imitators of God as dear children," and select as the objects of your charity, those whom God specially cares for.

This, however, is not my subject at this time. I wish you to become yourselves objects of the divine charity by coming to God as orphans, and putting yourselves under his protection, that you, like the fatherless, may find mercy at his hands. If we ourselves are sad at heart, troubled in spirit, full of needs, full of wants and trials, then let us be encouraged to come to God, because in him the fatherless finds mercy.

First, here is encouragement;

secondly, here is encouragement as to what to do;

thirdly, here is encouragement as to what to expect.

 

I. First, here is ENCOURAGEMENT.

Here is encouragement, though such as none spy out but needy ones. You notice that the people who said, "In you the fatherless finds mercy," are the people who had fallen by their iniquity, and who were bidden to return unto the Lord, saying "Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously." They were a people who renounced all self-confidence, and cried out, "Asshur shall not save us; we will not ride upon horses: neither will we say any more to the work of our hands: You are our gods." They were a people with whom God's Holy Spirit had so dealt, that they were stripped of their pride, and made conscious of their guilt. Then it was that they spied out this precious fact, that in God, the fatherless finds mercy. A tear in the eye is a fine thing to clear it. He who never saw his sin as heinous, has never seen the mercy of God. David never sang of the loving-kindness and tender mercies of God so well as in that fifty-first Psalm, when he mourned his great sin. A broken-hearted sinner has a sort of instinct for finding out the tender points in God's character. The ungodly man who is self-satisfied, and has never been made to know the truth about his spiritual condition, often likens God to an austere man, reaping where he has not sown, and gathering where he has not strawed; but once let the man know his guilt and mourn it, and then he looks with all his eyes to God to spy out mercy in him; and he is the man who delights to learn that God is merciful to the fatherless. This becomes a fountain of hope to him.

Have I here any sin-stricken sinner? Are you desponding and despairing? Did you come here feeling that there could be no mercy for you? Catch at this word. "In you the fatherless finds mercy." He is a merciful God; he is tender, kind, considerate. He evidently looks after the helpless and hopeless. He is the patron of those whom others desert. Widows without friends, the fatherless without protectors--these are the care of God. May you not hope that he will care for you? May you not in the depth of your sin and brokenness of heart, come to him and say, "O Lord, I hear you are the Friend of the friendless, then be a Friend to me"? It looks like a candle put in the window of your Father's house to guide you home through the darkness. May God help you to see it; but I know that you will not care to see it, if there is not a tear in your eye, for none but the needy perceive this gracious truth.

This encouragement is, moreover, one which is a strong inducement to cast away all other confidences. If God be the Friend of the fatherless, he may be a Friend to me: would it not be well for me to trust him, and leave off trusting those other things that I have relied upon? You see how the text runs, "Asshur shall not save us; we will not ride upon horses." These were their great trust and confidence, and then they go on to say--neither will we worship false gods, for we can see that the true God is kind, kind to the fatherless ones, and therefore we may come and trust him. When a man gets some little hope, then he says to himself, "I will even venture to look to the Lord."

When the prodigal son in the far-off country had spent all his living, what was it that brought him back? Why, it was this thought, "How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare!" This made him resolve to go home again.

I know what the devil will do: he will tell you that there is no mercy for you. He is an old liar. There is abundant mercy for the greatest sinner. What does the devil know about it? He never sought mercy, and he has never had any, and never will have any, for he will never seek it. But for you, poor soul, there is bread enough and to spare in your Father's house; and why do you perish with hunger? Why not arise and go unto your Father? If God is the Father of the fatherless, then this should induce us to hasten to him, and rest in him.

"May I trust in Jesus Christ?" says one.

"May I?" Of course you may; it is your sin if you do not, and, indeed, the chief and most ruinous of sins. Many of you are trusting in your sacraments and your priests, or in your good works and your prayers, or your own feelings--because you think that you may not trust Christ. But you may! for he who takes the fatherless under his blessed wing invites you to come to him. "Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." If he had ever repulsed one, he might repulse you. But since the fatherless find mercy in him, and all who come to him find mercy in him, come along and trust in the merciful One at once.

Furthermore, there is much encouragement in my text, because it gives us a clear look into the heart of God. I always like to see how a man treats children. You learn a great deal about a man when you see that. Some men abhor children, and almost wish that they could exterminate them. As to the fatherless children, they say, "Let them go to the workhouse: we cannot be troubled with them." The gentle-hearted one never sees a little child in need, without feeling the utmost pity. I feel more sorry for a suffering child, than even for a man or a woman. Adults have a measure of a power to help themselves; but if there is poverty in the house, then the little one may pine away, but it cannot get relief. Little boys and girls have suffered much in this great city when their parents' home has been desolated by poverty, frequently caused by alcohol and other sins. Who knows the sufferings of the little ones when father dies? I confess it touches my heart that little children should suffer as they do. When men are wicked, one is almost thankful that there should be poverty following their sin to whip them out of it; but these lambs, what have they done? Any tender heart feels this. Is not this a wonderful text which lets us gaze into the heart of God while we read, "In you the fatherless finds mercy!" Great God, the seraphim adore you. Angels, day without night, stand waiting to do your bidding. Your voice is the thunder, and the glance of your eye is the lightning. At your bidding kings die, dynasties decay, and empires are blotted out--and yet you care for little children and widows. It is very beautiful to me. I feel as if I could trust him all the better for that, and come with my daily burden and daily cares--ay, and my sins too, and feel sure that he will not refuse me. This is the Father of Jesus, I am sure of it. Oh, how like the Son is to the Father, for if the Father is thus the children's Patron, then what do you think of the Son, and of his likeness to his Father, when he said, "Let the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Does not this encourage you to come, as you see the heart of God laid bare in the blessed statement of the text, "In you the fatherless finds mercy!"

There is this encouragement too, that our cases are like those of the widow and the fatherless. The orphan has no father, no helper, no means of sustenance. And you, my hearer without God, are in that state. If there is no God, then you have no father. If you have no God to trust to, then you have no protector, and you are undone. There is no light for you, if God is not your light; no hope for you, if Christ is not your hope. Do you feel that? Well, then, you are an orphan; you are a fatherless one. Come along, for Jesus has said, "I will not leave you orphans. I will come unto you." Come to him, and look up into the face of the orphan's Father, and say, I plead that word of yours, "In you the fatherless finds mercy." Lord, let me find mercy, for my case runs parallel with theirs.

If there is a heart here that needs encouraging, it will spell out my meaning. But if you do not need it, and some of you do not, for you are fine fellows, and full of your own righteousness, then I have nothing to say to you but this, "The whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick. Christ came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."

 

II. Secondly, for every poor, needy sinner, here is ENCOURAGEMENT AS TO WHAT TO DO.

First, if you want to find salvation tonight, take the text as a sort of spiritual guide-book, and plead your need. Do not say anything about your merits: the less said about them the better. Your position is like that of the Irish servant, who said, when asked for his character, that the gentleman at his last place told him he would do better without his character than with it. You are just in that case, only that you will be asked for your character, and the best thing you can do is to say, "My character is as bad as it can be!" And then plead for mercy. "Lord," it says in the text, "in you the fatherless finds mercy. It does not say that they are good and holy, but simply that they are fatherless. It does not say that they find reward, but that they find mercy. Lord, that is all I have to say to you. I am in need: I am in awful need; and because I am such a sinner, it makes my need all the worse, for that is where my need lies; I need righteousness; I need a new heart; I need a right spirit. I need a total change. I need everything, for I have nothing but sin and misery! Lord, I only urge that as you help the fatherless, simply and only because they are needy, I entreat you to save me irrespective of my character, for my need is great."

The next lesson for you is this; be sure to take a hold of this text by the handle, and ask for mercy. "In you the fatherless finds," what? Finds mercy. Mercy is the handle of the text. When you go to God, ask for mercy, not for justice. A mother once went to the Emperor Napoleon to ask for mercy for her son. He had committed some breach of the French law; and the emperor replied, "Madam, this is the second time the boy has offended; justice requires that he should die." She answered, "Sire, I did not come to ask for justice. I beg for mercy."

He answered, "He does not deserve mercy."

"Sire," said she, "it would not be mercy if he deserved it. I ask for mercy."

When she put it in that way, the emperor replied, "Well, then, I will have mercy."

My unsaved hearer, you deserve to be in Hell tonight. It is of the Lord's mercy that you are not consumed. Do not dream of asking for justice, for justice will be your ruin; but get a hold of this word, "Lord, I ask for mercy!" And if something whispers, "Why, you have been a hardened sinner," say, "Lord, it is true; but Lord, I ask for mercy!"

"But you have been a backslider." Reply, "Lord, that I am; but I ask for mercy on that account."

"But you have resisted and rejected grace." "Lord, that is true; but I shall need all the more mercy because of that."

"But there is nothing in you to argue for forgiveness." Say, "Lord, I know there is not, and that is why I ask for mercy. I put it wholly on that ground. Display your mercy in me, I beseech you."

That is the way to plead. That is the straight way. You will get Heaven so, for you will get Christ so, since his mercy endures forever. "In you the fatherless finds mercy."

Learn another lesson, you who want to get peace with God at once, and I hope that some of you do. Cast your sin, trial, and sorrow upon God. The text says, "In you the fatherless finds mercy;" so the business of the fatherless ones is to come to God, and just look to him for mercy; and that is your business. Do not, I charge you, look to anybody else but the living God to help you. It is a snare, and a horrible one, for people to trust to priests; and I will say, in addition to that, to trust to ministers, to trust to any man whatever.

I have known people when they have heard an address and have been impressed, to say, "Oh, I shall find Christ in the enquiry-room!" That enquiry-room may be a snare to you, if you talk thus.

You want to speak to the man who preached to you, do you? Do not speak to him; go to Jesus directly!

"But I wish to see that good man who spoke to me the other day." Very well, so you may by-and-by, but mind you do not put that good man or that good woman in the place of Christ.

The text says, "In you the fatherless finds mercy," and it is in Christ, and in him alone, that mercy is to be found. Go directly and distinctly to Jesus, and, by the help of his Spirit, you can do that while sitting in the pew. God is everywhere. Let your spirit be conscious that God is present, and now let your heart speak to him. To him confess your sin: do not pour that rubbish into the ear of mortal man. To God lay bare your heart, and to him alone: it is not a fit sight for any human being. Tell the Lord Jesus all your wants and woes, and he will help you, for in the Son of God is the help of men. Oh, that I knew how to speak these things, but they will surely go home to those who are in spiritual need!

You that are not in need, you that are good, you that are self-righteous, will see nothing in the text for you. No, and there was not meant to be, for the Lord has a people that he will draw unto himself, and these people are known by this--that they understand that they are heinous sinners, hence they go to God for mercy.

God's chosen people exercise the natural art of the weak, namely, clinging. They are made to feel their poverty and their need, and then when they hear of the fullness of Christ, then they hasten to lay hold on him.

Have you never noticed how the plants that God has made weak are all endowed with a natural faculty for clinging? One of the first things that the vine does is to put forth its tendrils for something to cling to. The hop, the woodbine, the sweet pea, they all have a little hook ready to lay hold on a support.

Now, if God is about to bless you at this hour, then you have a little tendril that is being put out to find something to lay hold of, and as the gardener carefully puts his stick for the sweet pea, or as the farmer puts his pole for the hop, I have tried to set my text in your way. I would set the blessed Lord before you, and say, In him the fatherless finds mercy: cling to him; cling to him. It is your life to do it. Cling firmly! The limpet by the sea-shore can do little, but it can cling, and so it does cling, and very firmly too. That is the one thing you can do, poor sinner, and I pray the Holy Spirit to lead you to do it at once. God help you at this moment to cling to Christ, and if you do, you are saved, yes, saved at once. In him the fatherless finds mercy. Cling to him, and you shall find mercy too.

 

III. Now, lastly, here is ENCOURAGEMENT AS TO WHAT TO EXPECT OF GOD. "In you the fatherless finds mercy."

What do the fatherless expect of us, when we stand in God's place to them, and take them into our Orphanage, and try to be as a father to them? What do they expect of us? Well, I do not know that the younger ones have intellect enough to know all they expect, but they expect everything. They expect all that they need, and though they do not quite know what they do need, they leave it to us. They believe that all will be found that they require. I like a poor Christian who does not know all he wants; but yet knows that his God will supply all his needs. He trusts Jesus for all. He trusts his heavenly Father as a child: he does not know what he may require today, and require in the unknown future, but then his heavenly Father knows, and he leaves it all to him.

As our orphan boys grow older, however, they begin to have a perception of their needs, and they trust that they shall have everything provided which their own fathers would have provided for them, and more, perhaps. So is it with us when we come to the great Father. We say: all that I would provide for my children, if I had everything, and could give them all that wisdom could desire–that my God will provide for me, for he will be a Father to me. If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, then much more shall he, who has taken you into his family, though you once were fatherless, give all good things to you. You shall have food and clothing, and sufficient for this life. You shall have protection, guidance, instruction, and tender affection. You shall have a touch or two of the rod every now and then, and that is among your choice mercies; but you shall also have all the cherishing of his sweet love; and by-and-by, when you are fit for it, he will take you home from school, and you shall see his face, and you shall live forever in his house above, where the many mansions are.

Oh, if you come and put yourselves by a simple faith into the blessed custody and keeping of God, then he will admit you into his Salvation Orphanage, and he will take care of you, and you shall find him a better Father than you will be to your own children--a better Father than the best of fathers could ever be to the best beloved of sons. "I will be a Father unto you, and you shall be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty."

I will not say more, but I should like to leave John's choice sentence as my last word. "Behold what kind of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God!" Blessed be your name, O Lord, that we also have been led of your Spirit to prove that in you the fatherless finds mercy!

Portion of scripture read before sermon--Psalm 68:1–24, 32–35.