The Spurgeon Series 1859 & 1860. Charles H. Spurgeon
trembling hand and secures glory. But what more shall I say? Time would fail me to tell of all the needs of the believer, and of the all abounding and ever flowing streams of love that flow from Christ, the fountain that fills the believer to the brim. Oh say, you children of God, while you are in these lowlands of want and suffering, is he not inconceivably, unutterably, superlatively precious to you?
21. 3. But once more. Look at the believer not only in his needs, but in his highest earthly state. The believer is a man that was once blind and now sees. And what a precious thing is light to a man that sees. If I, as a believer, have an eye, how much I need the sun to shine. If I have no light my eye becomes a torture, and I might as well have been blind. And when Christ gives sight to the blind he makes his people a seeing people. It is then that they find what a precious thing is the sight, and how pleasant a thing it is for a man to behold the sun. The believer is a man who is quickened. A dead corpse needs no clothing, for it feels no cold. Let a man once be quickened and he finds himself naked, and needs clothing. From the very fact that the Christian is a quickened man, he values the robe of righteousness that is put on him. Christ touches his people’s ears and opens them; but it would be better for man to be deaf than to hear for ever doleful groans and hissings. But such must he have been, always hearing it if it were not for Christ playing sweet music to him every day, and pouring streams of melody into his ears through his promises. Yes, I say, the very newborn powers of the Christian would be very channels for misery if it were not for Christ. Even in his highest estate the Christian must feel that Christ is necessary to him, and then he must conclude that Christ is precious to him.
22. But believer, how precious is Christ to you in the hour of conviction of sin, when he says, “Your sins which are many, are all forgiven you.” How precious to you in the hour of sickness, when he comes to you and says, “I will make all your bed in your sickness.” How precious to you in the day of trial, when he says, “All things work together for your good.” How precious when friends are buried for he says, “I am the resurrection and the life.” How precious in your grey old age, “even in old age I am with you, and to hoary hairs will I carry you.” How precious in the lone chamber of death, for “I will fear no evil, you are with me, your rod and your staff comfort me.” But, last of all, how precious will Christ be when we see him as he is. All we know of Christ here is as nothing compared with what we shall know hereafter. Believer, when you see Christ’s face, now, you only see it through a veil — Christ is so glorious, that like Moses he is compelled to put a veil upon his face, for his poor people while they are here are so feeble that they could not behold him face to face. And if he is lovely here, when he is marred and spit upon, how lovely must he be when he is adored and worshipped. If he is precious on his cross, how much more precious when he sits on his throne. If I can weep before him, and love him, and live for him, when I see him as the despised man of Nazareth; oh, how shall my spirit be knit to him, how shall my heart be absorbed with love to him, when I see his face and behold his crown of glory, when I hear the harpings of the never ceasing harpers who harp his praise. Wait awhile, Christian. If he is precious to the believer now, when faith is turned to sight he will be more precious still. Go out of this hall, and cry, “Oh Lord Jesus, I must love you, I must serve you better, I must live for you; I must be ready to die for you — for
You are precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust.”
23. This brings me to conclude — and here I want your solemn and earnest attention while each one shall answer this question for himself — my hearer is Christ precious to you? My young brother, you of the same age as myself, is Jesus precious to you in your youth? How shall a young man cleanse his way? only by taking heed to Christ’s word, and by walking in his footsteps. You men and women of middle age, is Christ precious to you? Remember that this world is only a dream, and if you have not something more satisfactory than that, you will die disappointed, even though you succeed beyond your highest wishes. And you grey headed men, who are going tottering to your graves, whose life is like a candle snuff, almost expiring, like a lamp whose oil is spent. Is Christ precious to you, you with the bald head, and with the hoary lock, is Jesus precious to your soul? Remember, how you answer this question determines your eternal state. If he is precious to you, you are a believer, but if he is not precious, then you are not believers, and you are condemned already because you do not believe on the Son of God. Now, which is it? Oh, I think some of you feel as if you could spring from your seats, and say, “Yes, he is precious to me, I cannot deny it.” Once there was a good minister who was catechising his class, and he said to the young people, “The question which I am about to ask is such that I want none of you to answer except those who can answer from your heart.” The congregation was gathered together, and he ask this question of them concerning Christ — “Suppose Christ was here, and should say, ‘Do you love me?’ what would be your reply?” He looked around, and glanced upon all the young men and the young women, and said, “Jesus speaks to you the first time, and says, ‘Do you love me?’ He speaks a second time, and he says, ‘Do you love me?’ ” There was a solemn pause and no one answered; and the congregation looked at the class, and at last the minister said once more, “Jesus speaks by me a third time, and says, ‘Do you love me?’ ” Up rose a young woman, who could not keep her seat any longer, and, bursting into tears, said, “Yes, Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you.” Now, how many are there here who could say that? Could not you now, if this were the time — although you might be bashful in the midst of so many — could you not, if Christ asked you the question, boldly say, though in the midst of enemies — “Yes, Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you.” Well, if you can give such an answer as that, go home and pray that others may be brought to love him, for you yourselves are saved; but if you are compelled to be silent to such a question as that, oh may God lead you to seek Christ, may you too be driven to the cross, may you there see his dear bleeding wounds, may you behold his open side, and falling at his feet, may you say, “I trust you, I rely upon you, I depend upon you,” and he will say, “I have saved you”; and then you will spring to your feet, and say, “Lord I love you, because you have first loved me.” May such be the end of this sermon, and to God be all the glory.
{a} Reform Act 1832: The Representation of the People Act 1832, commonly known as the Reform Act 1832, was an Act of Parliament (2 & 3 Will. IV) that introduced wide ranging changes to the electoral system of the United Kingdom. According to its preamble, the act was designed to “take effectual Measures for correcting various Abuses that have long prevailed in the Choice of Members to serve in the Commons House of Parliament.” See Explorer “http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reform_Act_1832”
Weak Hands And Feeble Knees
No. 243-5:145. A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, March 20, 1859, By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.
Strengthen the weak hands and confirm the feeble knees. {Isaiah 35:3}
1. It is the duty of all men to be careful with the sons of sorrow. There are some who from their very birth are marked by Melancholy as her own. The silent shades of sorrow are their congenial haunts; the glades of the forest of grief are the only places where their leaf can flourish. There are others who through some crushing misfortune are brought so low that they never hold up their heads again, but go from that time forth mourning to their graves. There are some again, who, disappointed in their early youth, either in some fond object of their affections, or else in some project of their young ambition, never can dare to face the world, but shrink from contact with their fellow men, even as the sensitive plant curls up its tendrils at the touch. In all flocks there must be lambs, and weak and wounded sheep; and among the flock of men, it seems that there must necessarily be some who should more than others prove the truth of Job’s declaration, “man is born to trouble even as the sparks fly upward.” It is the duty then of those of us who are more free than others from despondency of spirit, to be very tender with these weak ones. Far be it from the man of courageous disposition, of stern resolve, and of unbending purpose, to be harsh towards those who are timid and despairing. If we have a lion-like spirit, let us not imitate the king of beasts in his cruelty to those timid fallow deer that flee before him, but let us place