VII. ON REFUGES OF LIES.
"Judgment also will I
lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet, and the hail shall sweep
away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding
place."-Isaiah xxviii. 17.
ALL men know themselves to be sinners against God. They know also,
that, as sinners, they are in peril and are not safe. Hence their anxiety to
find some refuge for They know they might find this in the way of forsaking sin
and turning to the Lord; but they do not choose to forsake their sins. Hence
there seems to be no convenient resource but to hide themselves under some
refuge.
Our text speaks of "the refuge of lies." Yet it is
obvious that men who resort to lies for a refuge regard those lies not as lies,
but as truth. This fact leads us to raise the primary fundamental question --
Have we any rule or standard which will show what is truth, and what is
falsehood? Men have countless opinions about religion; these can not all be
true; how can we determine which are true and which not true?
We have an infallible test.
Salvation, to be real and available, must be salvation from
sin. Everything else fails. Any system of religion which does not break the
power of sin, is a lie. If it does not expel selfishness and lust, and if it
does not beget love to God and man, joy, peace, and all the fruits of the
Spirit, it is false and worthless. Any system that fails in this vital respect
is a lie -- can be of no use -- is no better than a curse.
That which does not,
beget in us the spirit of heaven and make us like God, no matter whence it
comes, or by what sophistry defended, is a lie, and if fled to as a refuge, it
is a "refuge of lies."
Again, if it does not beget prayer, does not unify us with God,
and bring us into fellowship and sympathy with Him, it is a lie.
If it does not produce a heavenly mind, and expel a worldly
mind, and wean us from the love of the world, it is a lie. If it does
not beget in us the love required in the Scriptures, the love of God and of His
worship and of His people -- indeed, of all mankind: if it does not produce all
those states of mind which fit the soul for heaven, it fails utterly of its
purpose.
Here I must stop a moment to notice an objection. It is said,
"The Gospel does not, in fact, do for men all you claim. It does not make
professed Christians heavenly-minded, dead to the world, full of love, joy, and
peace."
I reply: Here is medicine which, applied in a given disease,
will certainly cure. This healing power is just what it has and what we claim
for it. But it must be fairly applied.
A man may buy the medicine, and because it is bitter, may lay it
up in his cupboard and never take it; he may provide himself with a counterfeit
to take in its stead; or he may follow it with something that will instantly
counteract its influence in the system. In any such case, the efficacy of the
medicine is not disproved; you only prove that you have not used it fairly and
honestly.
So with the Gospel. You must take it and use it according to
directions; else its failure is not its fault, but yours.
It is of no avail, then, to say that the Gospel does not save
men from sin. It may indeed be counterfeited; it may be itself rejected; but he
who receives it to his heart will surely find his heart blessed thereby. The
Gospel does transform men from sin to holiness -- does make men peaceful, holy,
heavenly, in life and in death. Millions of such cases lie out on the face of
the world's history. Their lives evince the reality and preciousness of the
salvation which the Gospel promises.
I will now proceed to name some things that lack this decisive
characteristic. They do not save the soul from sin.
1. An unsanctifying hope of heaven. Speaking of what God's
children shall be, John says "We know that when He shall appear we shall
be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And every man that hath this hope
in him (Christ) purifieth himself even as He is pure." A good hope, then,
does purify the heart. But there certainly are hopes indulged that fail to
purify the heart of those who hold them. Those hopes are lies. They cannot
possibly be sound and true. On their very face, it stands revealed that they
are worthless -- a mere refuge of lies. The stronger and more unwavering they
are, so much the more are they delusive. What hope in Christ is that which does
not bring the heart to Christ?
2. An old experience, that is all old, is a lie. You have,
perhaps, heard of the man who had his old experience all written down and laid
away with his deeds of land to keep till his time of need. This being all the
evidence he had, he used to refer to it from time to time for his comfort. At
length, when the time came for him to die, he felt the need of this record of
his religion, and sent his little daughter to bring it. She returned with only
the sad story that the mice had found their way to his drawer and had eaten up
the paper -- all the dying man's evidence of piety! Alas! he must die in
despair! He had no other hope but this! On the face of it, such a refuge is
only lies.
3. There are two forms of self-righteousness -- the legal and
the Gospel -- both of which are refuges of lies.
The legal depends on duty -- doing -- evermore trying to work
out salvation by deeds of law. The Gospel form sets itself to get grace by
works. Men try to get a new heart not by trying to turn from all sin, but by
praying for it. I meet such a man. He says, "I tried to become
religious." Indeed, and, what did you do? "I prayed for a new
heart." You did! But you did not do what God says you must "Make
yourself a new heart and a new spirit; "you did not repent -- you did not
bow your heart to God. Therefore, all your doings come short of what God
requires. They fail of saving the soul from sin.
There is a great deal of this Gospel self-righteousness -- this
throwing off the responsibility upon God.
4. Universalism is an old refuge of lies. And here let me give
you a case. Being out from home in my carriage, I overtook a young man and
invited him to ride. Almost immediately he told me he was a Universalist and
came out strongly in defence of his system. I said to him, "I am not well
and may not live long, and I do not dare to be deceived in this matter."
He said for his part he was sure enough of its truth. He had heard smart men
say so, and prove it from Scripture. I said to him -- I have one objection.
There is a certain train of facts which I cannot account for, if Universalism
be true. I have known families once reputed orthodox, which were then upright,
moral, and justly respected. These same families I have known become loose in
morals, forsake the house of God, turn to strong drink, and become fearfully
vicious. Such families I have observed along with this change almost always
become Universalists. This is one set of facts.
On the other hand, I have never known a holy, prayerful Universalist
backslide into orthodoxy -- forsake his Universalism and his morality and
degenerate into vice and orthodoxy by one uniform and simultaneous declension.
I have known men reformed from drunkenness and vice, and then become orthodox;
but I have never known men reform from vice into Universalism. In short, it
seems to me that thousands of facts evince a natural sympathy between vice and
Universalism on the one hand, and between virtue and orthodoxy on the other.
By this time, he began to feel troubled, and said, "I am
afraid I am all wrong. Would you believe it?" said he, "I am running
away from being converted. There is a revival in my place, and I am running
away from it." You are said I. And do you think it will hurt you? Will it
do you any harm?
He looked deeply anxious and said, "Had not I better go
back? My good father and mother looked sad when I left my home. I don't believe
Universalism can save me. Everybody knows it never did save anybody and never
can."
The same must be said of proper Unitarianism. Some who bear this
name are not such in fact. But where you find men who deny depravity,
regeneration, atonement, you will certainly find that their system does not
make them heavenly-minded, holy and humble. You need not reason with them to find
this out; you need only to take the facts of their history.
So of Davisism -- the doctrines of Andrew Jackson Davis. Do
these doctrines make men holy? Never.
I have known a man, once a friend and patron of Gospel reforms,
who turned back to Andrew Jackson Davis. Did this change make him more holy?
No, indeed. He said, "It makes me more happy." No doubt; and for the
reason that before he was only and always under, conviction, never enjoying the
peace of the Gospel. What is the use of reasoning about his Universalism? Look
at the facts! They alone are sufficient to show its utter falsehood. Universalism
never saved any man from sin. It throws no influence in that direction. So
of Mormonism, and all similar delusions. We need not stop to write books
against this and such like lies -- it stands out on the fore-front of this
system that it saves no man from sin. It is therefore a refuge of lies --
deceiving men into hopes that can never be realized. So of every creed and
system that does not save men from sin and fit them for heaven.
And now let my hearers take notice of what God says. He
declares, "The hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies and the waters
shall overflow the hiding-place." No doubt this hail is the symbol of
God's displeasure. It is fit that God should be displeased with these refuges
of lies. He loves truth too well to have the least sympathy with lies. He loves
the souls of men too deeply to have any patience with agencies so destructive.
Therefore, He loathes all these refuges of lies, and has solemnly declared that
the hail shall sweep them all away.
The waters, He declares, shall overflow the hiding-places. Every
resort that leaves the soul in sin is a hiding-place. All religious
affectation is such, and is nothing better. To put on the mere appearance of
devoutness and sanctimony, as if God could be made to believe you sincere and
could not see through it all. This is a flimsy hiding-place indeed. So of all religious
formality -- going through the forms of worship, being in the Church, being
baptized -- what avails it all unless their piety be instinct with life and
that life be the soul of real holiness?
A great many people hide in the church. Judas Iscariot
crept in there to hide. A minister of the Dutch Reformed Church told me once of
a case in point just here. A man who had been confirmed in that church was out
at sea in a fearful storm. It was a time of intense alarm, and many were exceedingly
fearful of death, not to say also of that terrible state beyond. When they said
to him, How is it that you are so cool? He replied, "What have I to fear
-- I belong to the South Dutch!"
Many hide under orthodox creeds. They are not Unitarians; they
are not Mormons; they are not Universalists; they are orthodox! Such religious opinions held so tenaciously
must, they think, ensure their safety.
Others hide under the
plea of a sinful nature. They are naturally unable to do anything. Here they
have found a sure retreat. They are very willing to do all their duty; but this
sinful nature is all against them, and what can they do? This is a refuge of
lies.
Some dodge under professors of religion. I fear there are many
such here among us. Alas, your hiding-place will fail you in the day of trial!
When the hail comes and the storm rolls up fearfully, and the awful thunder
breaks with appalling crash, you will try in vain to find your professor -- to
hide under his wing! Where is he now? Suppose he were as bad as you claim, how
much can he help you in that all-devouring storm? If he is not as good as he
should be, you ought to be better than he, and not try to hide yourself under
his shortcomings.
REMARKS.
Sinners know these things to be refuges of lies, because they do
not save men from their sins. Certainly they must see this and know it to be
the truth.
They resort to these refuges, not as being quite fully true, but
as an excuse for delay. Miserable subterfuge, this. They are not honest, and
therefore need not think it strange if they are deluded.
They admit that if one lives like Christ, all will be well; and
they know that nothing less than this will avail for their safety.
Of course, to seek a refuge of lies is to tempt God to destroy
you. How can it be otherwise?
Remember the test -- this one plain simple principle: That and
only that which saves from sin is true; all else is false and ruinous.
Now you all have some hope of a happy future; what is this hope? Good or bad?
Is it truthful and sure, or is it a refuge of lies?
Does your hope sanctify you -- does it make you humble, holy,
prayerful? Does your faith purify your heart? Have you the fruits of the Spirit
-- love, joy, peace, long-suffering? Have you daily communion with God? Are you
so united to Him that you can say -- Truly we have fellowship with the Father?
If so, this will be a hiding-place indeed -- not one which the hail shall sweep
away, but one which shall save the soul.
Have you the life of God in your soul? Does it pervade your
heart, and diffuse itself over all the chambers of your soul? Let nothing less
than this avail to satisfy your mind.
Hear Catholics talk about the Virgin and the sacraments and absolution;
what are all these things, and a thousand more such, good for if they do not
save from sin? What is the use of running after these things that do not save?
But you say -- I love to believe that all will be saved; it
makes me so happy. But does it make you holy? Does it renew your heart?
This is the only sure test.
But you say, "I do not believe as you do." I answer,
here are great facts. You are in sin. Are you saved from your sin by your
system? If so, well; if not so, then it is not well. Will your believing
it to be one way or the other make it so? Does believing a lie make it the
truth? If you were to believe that you could walk on the water, or that water
could not drown you, and should leap overboard, would your belief save you?
Dying sinner, all those refuges of lies will surely deceive and
destroy you. It is time for you to arise and say -- I must have the religion of
Jesus. Not having it, I can not go where Jesus is. With a lie in my right hand,
what have I to hope for? None of you, I hope, have reached that forlorn state
described by the prophet, "A deceived heart hath turned him aside, neither
can he say to his soul, There is a lie in my right hand."
O, sinner, there is a Refuge for you which is not one of lies.
There is a Hiding-place for you which no waters can reach to overwhelm. It lies
far above their course. O, take refuge in Christ! away with these refuges of
lies! Cry out -- Give me Christ and none besides! Christ and Him only -- for
what have I to do with lies and delusions? You need to come into such communion
with Christ that His power and presence and fullness shall flow through your
heart fully and freely, and be in you a well of water springing up into
everlasting life.
VIII. THE WICKED HEART SET TO DO EVIL.
"Because sentence against an evil work is not executed
speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do
evil."-Eccl. viii. 11.
THIS text manifestly assumes that the present is not a state of
rewards and punishments, in which men are treated according to their character
and conduct. This fact is not indeed affirmed, but it is assumed, as it
is also everywhere throughout the Bible. Everybody knows that ours is not a
state of present rewards and punishments; the experience and observation of
every man testifies to this fact with convincing power, Hence it is entirely
proper that the Bible should assume it as a known truth. Every man who reads
his Bible must see that many things in it are assumed to be true, and that
these are precisely those things which every man knows to be true, and which
none could know more certainly if God had affirmed them on every page of the
Bible. In the case of this truth, every man knows that he is not himself
punished as he has deserved to be in the present Every man sees the same thing
in the case of his neighbors. The Psalmist was so astounded by the manifest
injustice of things in this world, as between the various lots of the righteous
and of the wicked, that he was greatly stumbled, "until," says he,
"I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end."
It is also assumed in this passage that all men have by nature a
common heart. One general fact is asserted of them all, and in this way
they are assumed to have a common character. "The heart of the sons of men
is fully set in them to do evil." So elsewhere. "God saw that every
imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually." This
is the common method in which God speaks of sinners in His Word. He always
assumes that by nature they have the same disposition.
The text also shows what the moral type of the sinner's heart
is: "fully set to do evil." But we must here pause a moment to
inquire what is meant in our passage by the term "heart."
It is obvious that this term is used in the Bible in various
shades of meaning; sometimes for the conscience, as in the passage which
affirms, "If our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart,"
and may be expected the more to condemn us; sometimes the term is used for the
intelligence; but here most evidently for the will, because this is the only
faculty of the mind which can be said to be set -- fixed -- bent,
determined upon a given course of voluntary action. The will is the
faculty which fixes itself upon a chosen course; hence in our text, the will
must be meant by the term heart; for otherwise no intelligible sense can
be put upon the passage.
But in what direction and to what object is the will of
wicked men fully set? Answer, to do evil. So God's Word solemnly
affirms.
But, let it be said in way of explanation, this does not imply
that men do evil for the sake of the evil itself; it does not imply that
sinning, considered as disobedience to God, is their direct object -- no; the
drunkard does not drink because it is wicked to drink, but he drinks notwithstanding
it is wicked. He drinks for the present good it promises -- not for the
sake of sinning. So of the man who tells lies. His object is not to break God's
law, but to get some good to himself by lying; yet he tells the lie
notwithstanding God's prohibition.
His heart may become
fully set upon the practice of lying whenever it suits his convenience, and for
the good he hopes thus to gain; and it is in vain that God labors by fearful prohibitions
and penalties to dissuade him from his course. So of stealing, adultery, and
other sins. We are not to suppose that men set their heart upon these sins out
of love to pure wickedness; but they do wickedly for the sake of the good they
hope to gain thereby. The licentious man would perhaps be glad if it were not
wicked to gratify his passion; but wicked though it is, he sets his heart to do
it. Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit; why? Because they saw it was
beautiful, and they were told it would make them wise; hence, for the good they
hoped to gain, and despite of God's prohibition, they took and ate. I know it
is sometimes said that sinners love sin for its own sake, out of a pure love of
sin as sin, simply because it is disobedience to God, with a natural
relish, as wolves love flesh; but this is not true -- certainly not in many
cases; but the simple truth is, men do not set their hearts upon the sin for
its own sake, but upon sinning for the sake of the good they hope to get from
it.
Notice particularly now the language, "heart fully set to
do evil." One man is avaricious; he sets his heart upon getting
rich, honestly, if he can, but rich any way; to get money by fair means
if possible, but be sure and get it. Another is ambitious. The love of
reputation fills and fires his soul, and therefore, perhaps, he becomes very
polite and very amiable in his manners -- sometimes, very religious -- if
religion is popular, but altogether selfish, and none the less so for being so
very religious.
Selfishness takes on a thousand forms and types; but each and
all are sinful, for the whole mind should give itself up to serve God and to
perform every duty as revealed to the reason. What did Eve do? Give herself up
to gratify her propensity for knowledge, and for the good of self-indulgence.
She consented to believe the lying spirit who told her it was "a tree to
be desired to make one wise." This she thought must be very important. It
was also, apparently, good for food, and her appetite became greatly excited;
the more she looked the more excited she became, and now what should she do?
God had forbidden her to touch it: shall she obey God, or obey her own excited
appetite? Despite of God's command, she ate it. Was that a sin? Many would
think it a very small sin; but it was real rebellion against God, and He could
not do otherwise than visit it with His terrific frown!
So everywhere, to yield to the demands of appetite and passion
against God's claims, is grievous sin. All men are bound to fear and obey God,
however much self-denial and sacrifice it may cost.
I said that selfishness often assumes a religious type. In the
outset the mind may be powerfully affected by some of the great and stirring
truths of the Gospel; but it presently comes to take an entirely selfish view,
caring only to escape punishment, and make religion a matter of gain. It is
wonderful to see how in such cases the mind utterly misapprehends the design of
the Gospel, quite losing sight of the great fact that it seeks to eradicate man's
selfishness, and draw out his heart into pure benevolence. Making this radical
mistake, it conceives of the whole Gospel system as a scheme for indulgences.
You may see this exemplified in the view which some take of the imputation of
Christ's righteousness, which they suppose to be reckoned to them while they
are living in sin. That is, they suppose that they secure entire exemption from
the penalty of violating law, and even have the honors and rewards of full
obedience while yet they have all the self-indulgences of a life of sin.
Horrible! Were ever Romish indulgences worse than this?
Examine such a case thoroughly and you will see that selfishness
is at the bottom of all the religion there is in it. The man was worldly before
and is devout now; but devout for the same reason that he was worldly. The
selfish heart forms alike the basis of each system. The same ends are sought in
the same spirit; the moral character remains unchanged. He prays, perhaps; but
if so, he asks God to do some great things for him, to promote his own selfish
purposes. He has not the remotest idea of making such a committal of himself to
God's interests that he shall henceforth be in perfect sympathy with God,
desiring and seeking only God's interests, and having no interests other than
God's to serve at all.
To illustrate this point, let us suppose that a parent should
say to his children, "I will give you my property if you will work with
me, and truly identify your interests with mine; and if you are not willing to
do this, I shall disinherit you." Now some of the children may take a
perfectly selfish view of this offer, and may say within themselves -- Now I
will do just enough for father to get his money; I will make him think that I
am very zealous for his interests, and I will do just enough to secure the
offered rewards; but why should I do any more?
Or suppose the case of a human government which offers rewards
to offenders on condition of their returning to obedience. The real spirit of
the offer goes the length of asking the sincere devotion of their hearts to the
best good of the government. But they may take a wholly selfish view of the
case, and determine to accept the proposal only just far enough to secure the
rewards, and only for the sake of the rewards. The Ruler wants and expects the
actual sympathy of their hearts -- their real good-will; and this being given,
would love to reward them most abundantly; but how can He be satisfied with
them if they are altogether selfish?
Now a man may be, as selfish in praying as in stealing, and even
far more wicked: for be may more grievously mock God, and more impiously
attempt to bribe the Almighty to subserve his own selfish purposes. As if he
supposed he could make the Searcher of hearts his own tool; he may insolently
try to induce Him to play into his own hands, and thus may most grievously
tempt Him to His face.
But the text affirms that "the heart of men is fully set in
them to do evil." Perhaps some of you think otherwise; you don't believe
in such depravity. `O,' says that fond mother, `I think my daughter is friendly
to religion. Do you think she is converted?' O no, not converted, but I think
she is friendly; she feels favorably toward religion. Does she meet the claims
of God like a friend to His government and to His reputation? I can not say
about that. Ask her to repent and what does she say? She will tell you she can
not."
How striking the fact that you may go through the ranks of
society and you will meet almost everywhere with this position; the sinner
says, "I can not, repent -- I can not believe." What is the matter?
Where is the trouble? Go to that daughter, thought to be so friendly to
religion; she is so amiable and gentle that she can not bear to see any pain
inflicted; but mark; present to her the claims of God and what does she say? I
can not; no, I can not obey God, in one of His demands. I can not repent of
my sin, she says. But what is it to repent, that this amiable lady, so friendly
to religion withal, should be incapable of repenting? What is the matter? Is
God so unreasonable in His demands that He imposes upon you things quite
impossible for you to do? Or is it the case that you are so regardless of His
feelings and so reckless of the truth that for the sake of self-justification,
you will arraign Him on the charge of the most flagrant injustice, and falsely
imply that -- the wrong is all on His side and none on yours? Is this a very
amiable trait of character in you? Is this one of your proofs that the human
heart is not fully set to do evil?
You can not repent and love God! You find it quite impossible to
make up your mind to serve and please God!
What is the matter? Are there no sufficient reasons apparent to
your mind why you should give up your heart to God? No reasons? Heaven, earth,
and hell may all combine to pour upon you their reasons for fearing and loving
God, and yet you can not! Why? Because your heart is fully set within you to do
evil rather than good. You are altogether committed to the pleasing of self.
Jesus may plead with you -- your friends may plead; heaven and hell may lift up
their united voices to plead, and every motive that can press on the heart from
reason, conscience, hope and fear, angels and devils, God and man, may pass in
long and flashing array before your mind -- but alas! your heart is so fully
set to do evil that no motive to change can move you. What is this can not?
Nothing less or more than a mighty will not!
That amiable lady insists that she is not much depraved. O no,
not she. She will not steal! True, her selfishness takes on a most tender and
delicate type. She has most gushing sensibilities; she can not bear to see a
kitten in distress; but what does she care for God's rights? What for the
rights of Jesus Christ? What does she care for God's feelings? What does she
care for the feelings and sympathies of the crucified Son of God? just nothing
at all. What, then, are all her tender sensibilities worth? Doves and kittens
have even more of this than she. Many tender ties has she, no doubt, but they
are all under the control of a perfectly selfish heart.
Mother Eve, too, was most amiable. Indeed, she was A truly pious
woman before she sinned -- and Adam no doubt thought she could be trusted
everywhere; but mark how terribly she fell! So her daughters. Giving up their
hearts to a refined selfishness, they repel God's most righteous claims, and
they are fallen!
So go through all the ranks of society and you see the same
thing. Go to the pirate ship, the captain armed to the teeth and the fire of
hell in his eye; ask him to receive an offered Saviour and repent of his sins,
and he gives the very same answer as that amiable daughter does -- he can not
repent. His heart, too, is so fully set within him to do evil that he can not
get his own consent to turn from his sins to God.
O this horrible committal of the heart to do evil! It is the
only reason why the Holy Ghost is needed to change the sinner's heart. But for
this you would no more need the Holy Ghost than an angel of light does. O how
fearfully strong is the sinner's heart against God! just where the claims of
God come in he seems to have almost an omnipotence of strength to oppose and
resist! The motives of truth may roll mountain high and beat upon his iron
heart, yet see how he braces up his nerves to withstand God What can he not
resist sooner than submit his will to God Another thing lies in this text,
incidentally brought out -- assumed, but not affirmed -- viz., that sinners are
already under sentence. The text says, "Because sentence is not
executed speedily," implying that sentence is already passed and only
waits its appointed time for execution. You who have attended courts of justice
know that after trial and conviction next comes sentence. The culprit takes his
seat on the criminal's bench. The judge arises -- all is still as death; he
reviews the case, and comes shortly to the solemn conclusion: you are convicted
by this court of the crime alleged, and now you are to receive your sentence.
Sentence is then pronounced.
After this solemn transaction, execution is commonly deferred
for a period longer or shorter according to circumstances. The object may be
either to give the criminal opportunity to secure a pardon, or if there be no
hope of this, at least to give him some days or weeks for serious reflection in
which he may secure the peace of his soul with God. For such reasons, execution
is usually delayed. But after sentence, the case is fully decided. No further
doubt of guilt can interpose to affect the case; the possibility of pardon is
the only remaining hope. The awful sentence seals his doom -- unless it be
possible that pardon may be had. That sentence -- how it sinks into the heart
of the guilty culprit! "You are now," says the judge, "remanded
to the place from whence you came; there to be kept in irons. under close
confinement, until the day appointed; then to be taken forth from your prison
between the hours of ten and twelve, as the case maybe, and hung by the neck
until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your soul!" The sentence has
passed now -- the court have done their work; it only remains for the sheriff
to do his as the executioner of justice and the fearful scene closes.
So the Bible represents the case of the sinner. He is under
sentence, but his sentence is not executed speedily. Some respite is given. The
arrangements of the divine government require no court, no jury; the law itself
says" The soul that sinneth, it shall die;" "Cursed is every one
that continueth not in all the things written in the book of the law to do
them;" so that the mandate of the law involves the sentence of law on
every sinner -- a sentence from which there can be no escape and no reprieve
except by a pardon. What a position is this for the sinner!
But next consider another strange fact. Because sentence
is not executed speedily; because there is some delay of execution; because
Mercy prevails to secure for the condemned culprit a few days' respite, so that
punishment shall not tread close on the heels of crime, therefore "the
heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." How astounding!
What a perversion and abuse of the gracious design of the King in granting a
little respite from instant execution!
Let us see how it would look in the case of our friend or
neighbor. He has committed a fearful crime, is arrested, put on trial,
convicted, sentenced, handed over to the sheriff to await the day and hour of
his execution. The judge says I defer the execution that you may have
opportunity to secure a pardon from the governor. I assure you the governor is
a most compassionate man -- he loves to grant pardons; he has already pardoned
thousands; if you will give up your spirit of rebellion he will most freely
forgive you all; I beg of you, therefore, that you will do no such thing as
attempt a justification; don't think of escaping death otherwise than by
casting yourself upon his mercy; don't flatter yourself that there can be any
other refuge.
Now suppose this man begins, "I have done nothing -- just
nothing at all. I am simply a martyr to truth and justice I At all events, I
have done nothing very bad -- nothing that any government ought to notice. I
don't believe I shall be sentenced -- (the man is condemned already!) I shall
live as long as the best of you." So he sets himself to making excuses. He
goes to work as if he was preparing for a trial, and as if he expected
to prove his innocence before the court. Nay, perhaps he even sets himself to
oppose and curse the government, railing at its laws and at its officers,
deeming nothing too bad to say of them, indulging himself in the most
outrageous opposition, abusing the very men whose mercy has spared his
forfeited life! How would all men be shocked to see such a case -- to see a man
who should so outrage all propriety as to give himself up to abuse the
government whose righteous laws he had just broken and then whose clemency he
had most flagrantly abused! Yet this text affirms just this to be the case of
the sinner, and all observation sustains it. You have seen it acted over ten
thousand tunes; you can look back and see it in your own case. You know it is
all true -- fearfully, terribly true.
If it were in some striking, awful manner revealed to you this
night that your soul is damned, you would be thunder-struck. You do not believe
the simple declaration of Jehovah as it stands recorded on the pages of the
Bible. You are continually saying to yourself -- I shall not be condemned at
last -- I will venture along. I will dare to tempt His forbearance yet. I do
not at all believe He will send me to hell. At least, I will venture on a
season longer and turn about by and by if I find it quite advisable; but at
present why should I fear to set my heart fully in the way God has forbidden?
Where will you find a parallel to such wickedness? Only think of
a state of moral hardihood that can abuse God's richest mercies -- that can
coolly say -- God is so good that I will abuse Him all I can; God loves me so
much that I shall venture on without fear to insult Him and pervert His
long-suffering to the utmost hardening of my soul in sin and rebellion.
Let each sinner observe -- the day of execution is really
set. God will not pass over it. When it arrives, there can be no more
delay. God waits not because He is in doubt about the justice of the sentence
-- not because His heart misgives Him in view of its terrible execution; but
only that He may use means with you and see if He cannot persuade you to
embrace mercy. This is all; this the only reason why judgment for a long time
has lingered and the sword of justice has not long since smitten you down.
Here is another curious fact. God has not only deferred
execution, but at immense cost has provided means for the safe exercise of
mercy. You know it is naturally a dangerous thing to bestow mercy -- there is
so much danger lest it should weaken the energy of law and encourage men to
trample it down in hope of impunity. But God has provided a glorious testimony
in favor of law, going to show that it is in His heart to sustain it at every
sacrifice, He could not forgive sin until His injured and insulted law is
honored be, fore the universe. Having done all this in the sacrifice of His own
Son on Calvary, He can forgive without fear of consequences, provided only that
each candidate for pardon shall first be penitent.
Now, therefore, God's heart of mercy is opened wide and no fear
of evil consequences from gratuitous pardons disturbs the exercise of
mercy. Before atonement, justice stood with brandished sword, demanding
vengeance on the guilty; but by and through atoning blood, God rescued His law
from peril -- He lifted it up from beneath the impious foot of the
transgressor, and set it on high in safety and glory; and now opens wide the
blessed door of mercy. Now He comes in the person of His Spirit and invites you
in. He comes to your very heart and room, sinner, to offer you the freest
possible pardon for all your sin. Do you hear that gentle rap at your door?
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open
the door, I will come in to him and sup with him, and be with me." Look at
those hands. Have they not been pierced? Do you know those hands? Do you know
where they have been to be nailed through and through? Mark those locks wet
with the dew. Ah, how long have they been kept without in waiting for the door
to open! Who is it that comes? Is it the sheriff of justice? Has he come with
his armed men to drag you away to execution? Oh, no, no; but One comes
with the cup of mercy in His hands; He approaches your prison-gate, His eye wet
with the tear of compassion, and through the diamond of your grate He extends
that cup of mercy to your parched lips. Po you see that visage, so marred more
than any man's -- and you are only the more fully set to do evil? Ah, young
man! alas, young woman! is such your heart toward the God of mercy? Where can
we find a parallel to such guilt? Can it be found anywhere else in the universe
but in this crazy world?
The scenes and transactions of earth must excite a wonderful
interest in heaven. Angels desire to look into these things. O how the whole
universe look on with inquisitive wonder to see what Christ has done, and how
the sinners for whom He has suffered and done all, requite His amazing love!
When they see you set your heart only the more fully to do evil, they stand
back aghast at such unparalleled wickedness! What can be done for such sinners but
leave them to the madness and doom of their choice?
God has no other alternative. If you will abuse Him, He must
execute His law, and its fearful sentence of eternal death. Suppose it were a
human government and a similar state of facts should occur; who does not see
that government might as well abdicate at once as forbear to punish? So of God.
Although He has no pleasure in the sinner's death, and although He will never
slay you because He delights in it, yet how can He do otherwise than execute His
law if He would sustain it? And how can He excuse Himself for any failure in
sustaining it? Will you stand out against Him, and flatter yourself that He
will fail of executing His awful sentence upon you? Oh, sinner, there is no
possibility that you can pass the appointed time without execution. Human laws
may possibly fail of execution: God's laws can fail never! And who is it
that says, "Their judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and their
damnation slumbereth not?"
REMARKS.
1. Let me ask professors of religion -- Do you think you believe
these truths? Let me suppose that here is a father and also a mother in this
house, and you have a child whom you know and admit to be under sentence of
death. You don't know but this is the very day and hour set for his execution.
How much do you feel? Does the knowledge and belief of such facts disturb your
repose? Now your theory is that the case of your child is infinitely worse
than. this.
A death eternal in hell you know must be far more awful than any
public execution on earth. If your own son were under sentence for execution on
earth, how would you feel? Professing to believe him under the far more awful
sentence to hell, how do you in fact feel?
But let us spread out this case a little. Place before you that
aged father and mother. Their son went years ago to sea. Of a long time they
have not seen him nor even heard a word from him. How often have their troubled
minds dwelt on his case! They do not know how it fares with him, but they fear
the worst. They had reason to know that his principles were none too well fixed
when he left home and they are afraid he has fallen into worse and still worse
society until it may be that he has become a bold transgressor. As they
are talking over these things and searching from time to time all the
newspapers they can find, to get, if they can, some clew to their son's
history, all at once the door-bell rings; a messenger comes in and hands a
letter; the old father takes it, breaks the seal -- reads a word and suddenly
falls back in his seat, the letter drops from his hand; oh, he can't read it!
The mother wonders and inquires; she rushes forward and seizes the fallen
letter; she reads a word and her heart breaks with agony. What's the matter?
Their son is sentenced to die, and he sends to see if his father and mother can
come and see him before be dies. In early morning they are off. The
sympathizing neighbors gather round; all are sorrowful, for it is a sad thing
and they feel it keenly. The parents hasten away to the prison, and learn the
details of the painful case. They see at a glance that there can be no hope of
release but in a pardon. The governor lives near, they rush to his house; but
sad for them, they find him stem and inexorable. With palpitating hearts and a
load on their aching bosoms, they plead and plead, but all seems to be in vain.
He says -- Your son has been so wicked and has committed such crimes, he must
be hung. The good of the nation demands it, and I can not allow my sympathies
to overrule my sense of justice and my convictions of the public good. But the
agonized parents must hold on. O what a conflict in their minds! How the case
burns upon their hearts! At last the mother breaks out: Sir, are you a father?
Have you a son? Yes, one son. Where is he? Gone to California. How long since
you heard from him? Suppose he too should fall! Suppose you were to feel such
griefs as ours, and have to mourn over a fallen son! The governor finds himself
to be a father. All the latent sensibilities of the father's heart are
aroused within him. Calling to his private secretary, he says, Make out a
pardon for their son! O what a flood of emotions they pour out!
All this is very natural. No man deems this strange at all.
But right over against this, see the case of the sinner,
condemned to an eternal hell. If your spiritual ears were opened, you would
hear the chariot wheels rolling -- the great judge coming in His car of
thunder; you would see the sword of Death gleaming in the air and ready to
smite down the hardened sinner. But hear that professedly Christian father pray
for his ungodly son. He thinks he ought to pray for him once or twice a
day, so he begins; but ah, he has almost forgot his subject. He hardly knows or
thinks what he is praying about. God says, pray for your dying son! Lift up
your cries for him while yet Mercy lingers and pardon can be found. But alas!
where are the Christian parents that pray as for a sentenced and
soon-to-be-executed son! They say they believe the Bible, but do they?
Do they act as if they believed the half of its awful truths
about sentenced sinners ready to go down to an eternal hell? Yet mark -- as
soon as they are spiritually awake, then how they feel! And how they act!
What ails that professor who has no spirit of prayer and no
power with God? He is an infidel! What, when God says he is sentenced to die
and his angel of death may come in one hour and cut him down in his guilt and
sin, and send his spirit quick to hell, and yet the father or the mother have
no feeling in the case they are infidels; they do not believe what God has
said.
2. Yet make another supposition. These afflicted parents have
gone to the governor; they have poured out their griefs before him and have at
last wrenched a pardon from his stern hands. They rush from his house toward
the prison, so delighted that they scarcely touch the ground; coming near they
hear songs of merriment, and they say, How our son must be agonized with
company and scenes so unsuited and so uncongenial! They meet the sheriff. Who,
they ask, is that who can sing so merrily in a prison? It is your own son. He
has no idea of being executed; he swears he will burn down the governor's
house; indeed, he manifests a most determined spirit, as if his heart were fully
set on evil. Ah, say they, that is distressing; but we can subdue his wicked
and proud heart. We will show him the pardon and tell him how the governor
feels. We are sure this will subdue him. He can not withstand such kindness and
compassion.
They come to the door; they gain admittance and show him the
pardon. They tell him how much it has cost them and how tenderly the governor
feels in the case. He seizes it, tears it to pieces, and tramples it under his
feet! O, say they, he must be deranged! But suppose it is only depravity of the
heart, and they come to see it, and know that such must be the case. Alas, they
cry, this is worst of all! What! not willing to be pardoned -- not willing to
be saved! This is worse than all the rest. Well, we must go to our desolate
home. We have done with our son! We got a pardon for him with our tears, but he
will not have it. There is nothing more that we can do.
They turn sadly away, not caring even to bid him farewell. They
go home doubly saddened -- that he should both deserve to die for his original
crimes, and also for his yet greater crime of refusing the offered pardon.
The day of execution comes; the sheriff is on hand to do his
duty; from the prison he takes his culprit to the place of execution; the multitude
throng around and follow sadly along -- suddenly a messenger rushes up to say
to the criminal, "You have torn to pieces one pardon, but here is yet one
more; will you have this?" With proud disdain he spurns even this last
offer of pardon! And now where are the sympathies of all the land? Do they say,
How cruel to hang a young man, and for only such a crime? Ah, no; no such thing
at all. They see the need of law and justice; they know that law so outraged
must be allowed to vindicate itself in the culprit's execution. And now the
sheriff proclaims, "Just fifteen minutes to live;" and even these
minutes be spends in abusing the governor, and insulting the majesty of law.
The dreadful hour arrives, and its last moment -- the drop
falls; he trembles a minute under the grasp of Death, and all is still forever!
He is gone and Law has been sustained in the fearful execution of its sentence.
All the people feel that this is righteous. They can not possibly think
otherwise. Even those aged parents have not a word of complaint to utter. They
approve the governor's course; they endorse the sentence. They say, We did
think he would accept the pardon! but since he would not, let him be accursed!
We love good government, we love the blessings of law and order in society more
than we love iniquity and crime. He was indeed our son, but he was also the son
of the devil!
But let us attend the execution of some of these sinners from
our own congregation. You are sent for to come out for execution. We see the
messenger; we hear the sentence read -- we see that your fatal hour has come.
Shall we turn and curse God? NO, NO! We shall do no such thing. When your drop
falls, and you gasp, gasp, and die, your guilty, terror-stricken soul goes
wailing down the sides of the pit, shall we go away to complain of God and of
His justice? No, Why not? Because you might have had mercy, but you would not.
Because God waited on you long, but you only became in heart more fully set to
do evil. The universe look on and see the facts in the case; and with one voice
that rings through the vast arch of heaven, they cry, "Just and righteous
art thou in all thy ways, thou most Holy Lord God!"
Who says this is cruel? What! shall the universe take up arms
against Jehovah? No. When the universe gather together around the great white
throne, and the dread sentence goes forth, "Depart, accursed;" and
away they move in dense and vast masses as if old ocean had begun to flow
off-down, down, they sink to the depths of their dark home; but the saints with
firm step, yet solemn heart, proclaim God's law is vindicated; the insulted
majesty of both Law and Mercy is now upheld in honor, and all is right.
Heaven is solemn, but joyful; saints are solemn, yet they cannot
but rejoice in their own glorious Father. See the crowds and masses is they
move up to heaven. They look back over the plains of Sodom and see the smoke of
her burning ascend up like the smoke of a great furnace. But they pronounce it
just, and have not one word of complaint to utter.
To the yet living sinner, I have it to say today that the hour
of your execution has not yet arrived. Once more the bleeding hand offers
Mercy's cup to your lips. Think a moment; your Saviour now offers you mercy.
Come, O come now and accept it.
What will you say? I'll go on still in my sins? Again all we can
say is that the bowels of divine love are deeply moved for you -- that God has
done all to save you that He wisely can do. God's people have felt a deep and
agonizing interest in you and are ready now to cry, How can we give them up?
But what more can we do -- what more can even God do? With bleeding heart and
quivering lip has Mercy followed you. Jesus Himself said, "How often would
I have gathered you -- O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How often I would have saved
you, but ye would not!" Shall Jesus behold and weep over you, and
say, "O that thou hadst known, even thou in this thy day -- but now it is
hidden from thine eyes?" What, O dying sinner, will you say? Shall not
your response be, "It is enough -- I have dashed away salvation's cup long
and wickedly enough; you need not say another word, O that bleeding hand! those
weeping eyes! Is it possible that I have withstood a Saviour's love so long? I
am ready to beg for mercy now; and I rejoice to hear that our God has a
father's heart."
He knows you have sinned greatly and grievously, but O, He says
-- My compassions have been bleeding and gushing forth toward you these many
days. Will you close in at once with terms of mercy and come to Jesus? What do
you say?
Suppose an angel comes down, in robes so pure and so white;
unrolls his papers, and produces a pardon in your name, sealed with Jesus' own
blood. He opens the sacred book and reads the very passage which reveals the
love of God, and asks you if you will believe and embrace it?
What will you do?
And what shall I say to my Lord and Master? When I come to
report the matter, must I bear my testimony that you would not hear? When
Christ comes so near to you, and would fain draw you close to His warm heart,
what will you do? Will you still repeat the fatal choice, to spurn His love and
dare His injured justice?