The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon
I will tell him to remember Christ. I will tell him there is one who paid the mighty debt of misery. Yes, I will tell you drunkard, swearer, whatever you have been — I will tell you that there is one, who for you has made a complete atonement; if you only believe on him you are safe for ever. Remember him, you poor dying, hopeless creature, and you shall be made to sing for joy and gladness. See, the man believes, and in ecstasy exclaims, “Oh! come all you that fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for my soul.”
Tell it to sinners, tell,
I am, I am out of hell.
Hallelujah! God has blotted out my sins like a thick cloud! That is one benefit to be derived from remembering Christ. It gives us hope under a sense of sin, and tells us there is mercy yet.
14. Now, I must have another character. And what does he say? “I cannot stand it any longer; I have been persecuted and ill treated, because I love Christ; I am mocked, and laughed at, and despised: I try to bear it, but I really cannot. A man will be a man; tread upon a worm and he will turn upon you; my patience altogether fails me; I am in such a peculiar position that it is of no use to advise me to have patience, for patience I cannot have; my enemies are slandering me, and I do not know what to do.” What shall we say to that poor man? How shall we give him patience? What shall we preach to him? You have heard what he has to say about himself. How shall we comfort him under this great trial? If we suffered the same, what should we wish some friend to say to us? Shall we tell him that other people have borne as much? He will say, “Miserable comforters are you all!” No, I will tell him, “Brother, you are persecuted; but remember the words of Jesus Christ, how he spoke to us, and said, ‘Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.’ ” My brother! think of him, who when he died, prayed for his murderers, and said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” All you have to bear, is as nothing compared with his mighty sufferings. Take courage; face it again like a man; never say die. Do not let your patience be gone; take up your cross daily, and follow Christ. Let him be your motto; set him before your eyes. And, now, receiving this, hear what the man will say. He tells you at once — “Hail, persecution; welcome shame; Disgrace for Jesus shall be my honour, and scorn shall be my highest glory.
Now, for the love I bear his name,
What was my gain I count my loss,
I pour contempt on all my shame,
And nail my glory to his cross.”
There is another effect, you see, of remembering Christ. It tends to give us patience under persecution. It is a belt to brace up the loins, so that our faith may endure to the end.
15. Dear friends, I would occupy your time too much if I went into the various benefits; so I will only just mention one or two blessings to be received. It will give us strength in temptation. I believe that there are hours with every man, when he has a season of terrific temptation. There was never a vessel that lived upon the mighty deep but sometimes it has to do battle with a storm. There she is, the poor barque, rocked up and down on the mad waves. See how they throw her from wave to wave, all toss her to mid-heaven. The winds laugh her to scorn. Old Ocean takes the ship in his dripping fingers, and shakes it to and fro. How the mariners cry out for fear! Do you know how you can put oil upon the waters, and all shall be still? Yes, one potent word will do it. Let Jesus come; let the poor heart remember Jesus, and steadily then the ship shall sail, for Christ has the helm. The winds shall blow no more, for Christ shall bid them shut their mighty mouths, and never again disturb his child. There is nothing which can give you strength in temptation, and help you to weather the storm like the name of Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God. Then again, what comfort it will give you on a sickbed — the name of Christ! It will help you to be patient to those who wait upon you, and to endure the sufferings which you have to bear; yes, it shall be so with you, that you shall have more hope in sickness than in health, and shall find a blessed sweetness in the bitterness of gall. Instead of feeling vinegar in your mouth, through your trouble, you shall find honey for sweetness, in the midst of all the trial and trouble that God will put upon you, “For he gives songs in the night.”
16. But just to close up the advantages of remembering Christ, do you know where you will have the benefit most of all? Do you know the place where chiefly you will rejoice that you ever thought of him? I will take you to it. Hush! Silence! You are going up stairs into a lonely room. The curtains hang down. Some one stands there weeping. Children are around the bed, and friends are there. See that man lying? That is yourself. Look at him; how his eyes are your eyes; his hands are your hands. That is yourself. You will be there soon. Man! that is yourself. Do you see it? It is a picture of yourself. Those are your eyes that soon will be closed in death — your hands that will lie stiff and motionless — your lips that will be dry and parched, between which they will put drops of water. Those are your words that freeze in air, and drop so slowly from your dying lips. I wonder whether you will be able to remember Christ there. If you do not, I will picture you. Behold that man, straight up in the bed; see his eyes staring from their sockets. His friends are all alarmed, they ask him what he sees. He represses the emotion; he tells them he sees nothing. They know that there is something before his eyes. He stares again. Good God! what is that I see — I seem to see? What is it? Ah! one sigh! The soul is gone. The body is there. What did he see? He saw a flaming throne of judgment; he saw God upon it, with his sceptre; he saw books opened, he beheld the throne of God, and saw a messenger, with a sword brandished in the air to strike him low. Man! that is yourself; there you will be soon. That picture is your own portrait. I have painted you accurately. Look at it. That is the place where you shall be within a few years — indeed, within a few days. But if you can remember Christ, shall I tell you what you will do? Oh! you will smile in the midst of trouble. Let me picture such a man. They put pillows behind him; he sits up in bed, and takes the hand of the loved one, and says, “Farewell! weep not for me; the kind God shall wipe away all tears from every eye.” Those around him are addressed, “Prepare to meet your God, and follow me to the land of bliss.” Now he has set his house in order. All is done. Behold him, like good old Jacob, leaning on his staff, about to die. See how his eyes sparkle; he claps his hands — they gather around to hear what he has to say; he whispers “Victory!” and summoning a little more strength, he cries, “Victory!” and at last, with his final gasp, “Victory, through him that loved us!” and he dies. This is one of the great benefits to be derived from remembering Christ — to be enabled to meet death with blessed composure.
17. III. We now have arrived at the third portion of our meditation, which is A SWEET AID TO MEMORY.
18. At schools we used certain books, called “Aids to Memory.” I am sure they rather perplexed than assisted me. Their utility was equivalent to that of a bundle of staves under a traveller’s arm: true he might use them one by one to walk with, but in the meantime he carried a host of others which he would never need. But our Saviour was wiser than all our teachers, and his remembrancers are true and real aids to memory. His love tokens have an unmistakeable language, and they sweetly win our attention.
19. Behold the whole mystery of the sacred Eucharist. It is bread and wine which are lively emblems of the body and blood of Jesus. The power to excite remembrance consists in the appeal thus made to the senses. Here the eye, the hand, the mouth, find joyful work. The bread is tasted, and entering within, works upon the sense of taste, which is one of the most powerful. The wine is sipped — the act is palpable; we know that we are drinking, and thus the senses, which are usually clogs to the soul, become wings to lift the mind in contemplation. Again, much of the influence of this ordinance is found in its simplicity. How beautifully simple the ceremony is — bread broken and wine poured out. There is no calling that thing a chalice, that thing a paten, and that a host. Here is nothing to burden the memory — here is the simple bread and wine. He must have no memory at all who cannot remember that he has eaten bread, and that he has been drinking wine. Note again, the mighty pregnancy of these signs — how full they are of meaning. Bread broken — so was your Saviour broken. Bread to be eaten — so his flesh is meat indeed. Wine poured out, the pressed juice of the grape — so was your Saviour