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Saturday, October 5th, 2024
the Week of Proper 21 / Ordinary 26
the Week of Proper 21 / Ordinary 26
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Bible Commentaries
Spurgeon's Verse Expositions of the Bible Spurgeon's Verse Expositions
Copyright Statement
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Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com. Used by Permission.
These files are public domain.
Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com. Used by Permission.
Bibliographical Information
Spurgeon, Charle Haddon. "Commentary on Luke 14". "Spurgeon's Verse Expositions of the Bible". https://www.studylight.org/commentaries/eng/spe/luke-14.html. 2011.
Spurgeon, Charle Haddon. "Commentary on Luke 14". "Spurgeon's Verse Expositions of the Bible". https://www.studylight.org/
Whole Bible (47)New Testament (17)Gospels Only (5)Individual Books (9)
Verse 23
Compel Them to Come In
December 5, 1858
by
C. H. SPURGEON
1834-1892
"Compel them to come in."-- Luke 14:23 .
I feel in such a haste to go out and obey this commandment this
morning, by compelling those to come in who are now tarrying in the
highways and hedges, that I cannot wait for an introduction, but must at
once set about my business.
Hear then, O ye that are strangers to the truth as it is in Jesus--hear then
the message that I have to bring you. Ye have fallen, fallen in your
father Adam; ye have fallen also in yourselves, by your daily sin and
your constant iniquity; you have provoked the anger of the Most High;
and as assuredly as you have sinned, so certainly must God punish you
if you persevere in your iniquity, for the Lord is a God of justice, and
will by no means spare the guilty. But have you not heard, hath it not
long been spoken in your ears, that God, in his infinite mercy, has
devised a way whereby, without any infringement upon his honour, he
can have mercy upon you, the guilty and the undeserving? To you I
speak; and my voice is unto you, O sons of men; Jesus Christ, very God
of very God, hath descended from heaven, and was made in the likeness
of sinful flesh. Begotten of the Holy Ghost, he was born of the Virgin
Mary; he lived in this world a life of exemplary holiness, and of the
deepest suffering, till at last he gave himself up to die for our sins, "the
just for the unjust, to bring us to God." And now the plan of salvation is
simply declared unto you--"Whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus
Christ shall be saved." For you who have violated all the precepts of
God, and have disdained his mercy and dared his vengeance, there is
yet mercy proclaimed, for "whosoever calleth upon the name of the
Lord shall be saved." "For this is a faithful saying and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of
whom I am chief;" "whosoever cometh unto him he will in no wise cast
out, for he is able also to save unto the uttermost them that come unto
God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for us."
Now all that God asks of you--and this he gives you--is that you will simply
look at his bleeding dying son, and trust your souls in the hands of him
whose name alone can save from death and hell. Is it not a marvelous
thing, that the proclamation of this gospel does not receive the
unanimous consent of men? One would think that as soon as ever this
was preached, "That whosoever believeth shall have eternal life," every
one of you, "casting away every man his sins and his iniquities," would
lay hold on Jesus Christ, and look alone to his cross. But alas! such is
the desperate evil of our nature, such the pernicious depravity of our
character, that this message is despised, the invitation to the gospel feast
is rejected, and there are many of you who are this day enemies of God
by wicked works, enemies to the God who preaches Christ to you to-
day, enemies to him who sent his Son to give his life a ransom for
many. Strange I say it is that it should be so, yet nevertheless it is the
fact, and hence the necessity for the command of the text,--"Compel
them to come in."
Children of God, ye who have believed, I shall have little or nothing to
say to you this morning; I am going straight to my business--I am going
after those that will not come--those that are in the byways and hedges,
and God going with me, it is my duty now to fulfil this command,
"Compel them to come in."
First, I must, find you out; secondly, I will go to work to compel you to
come in.
I. First, I must FIND YOU OUT. If you read the verses that precede the
text, you will find an amplification of this command: "Go out quickly
into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, the
maimed, the halt, and the blind;" and then, afterwards, "Go out into the
highways," bring in the vagrants, the highwaymen, "and into the
hedges," bring in those that have no resting-place for their heads, and
are lying under the hedges to rest, bring them in also, and "compel them
to come in." Yes, I see you this morning, you that are poor. I am to
compel you to come in. You are poor in circumstances, but this is no
barrier to the kingdom of heaven, for God hath not exempted from his
grace the man that shivers in rags, and who is destitute of bread. In fact,
if there be any distinction made, the distinction is on your side, and for
your benefit--"Unto you is the word of salvation sent"; "For the poor
have the gospel preached unto them." But especially I must speak to
you who are poor, spiritually. You have no faith, you have no virtue,
you have no good work, you have no grace, and what is poverty worse
still, you have no hope. Ah, my Master has sent you a gracious
invitation. Come and welcome to the marriage feast of his love.
"Whosoever will, let him come and take of the waters of life freely."
Come, I must lay hold upon you, though you be defiled with foulest
filth, and though you have nought but rags upon your back, though
your own righteousness has become as filthy clouts, yet must I lay hold
upon you, and invite you first, and even compel you to come in.
And now I see you again. You are not only poor, but you are maimed.
There was a time when you thought you could work out your own
salvation without God's help, when you could perform good works,
attend to ceremonies, and get to heaven by yourselves; but now you are
maimed, the sword of the law has cut off your hands, and now you can
work no longer; you say, with bitter sorrow--
"The best performance of my hands,
Dares not appear before thy throne."
You have lost all power now to obey the law; you feel that when you
would do good, evil is present with you. You are maimed; you have
given up, as a forlorn hope, all attempt to save yourself, because you
are maimed and your arms are gone. But you are worse off than that,
for if you could not work your way to heaven, yet you could walk your
way there along the road by faith; but you are maimed in the feet as
well as in the hands; you feel that you cannot believe, that you cannot
repent, that you cannot obey the stipulations of the gospel. You feel that
you are utterly undone, powerless in every respect to do anything that
can be pleasing to God. In fact, you are crying out--
"Oh, could I but believe,
Then all would easy be,
I would, but cannot, Lord relieve,
My help must come from thee."
To you am I sent also. Before you am I to lift up the blood-stained
banner of the cross, to you am I to preach this gospel, "Whoso calleth
upon the name of the Lord shall be saved;" and unto you am I to cry,
"Whosoever will, let him come and take of the water of life freely."
There is yet another class. You are halt. You are halting between two
opinions. You are sometimes seriously inclined, and at another time
worldly gaiety calls you away. What little progress you do make in
religion is but a limp. You have a little strength, but that is so little
that you make but painful progress. Ah, limping brother, to you also is the
word of this salvation sent. Though you halt between two opinions, the
Master sends me to you with this message: "How long halt ye between
two opinions? if God be God, serve him; if Baal be God, serve him."
Consider thy ways; set thine house in order, for thou shalt die and not
live. Because I will do this, prepare to meet thy God, O Israel! Halt no
longer, but decide for God and his truth.
And yet I see another class,--the blind. Yes, you that cannot see
yourselves, that think yourselves good when you are full of evil, that
put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter, darkness for light and light for
darkness; to you am I sent. You, blind souls that cannot see your lost
estate, that do not believe that sin is so exceedingly sinful as it is, and
who will not be persuaded to think that God is a just and righteous God,
to you am I sent. To you too that cannot see the Saviour, that see no
beauty in him that you should desire him; who see no excellence in
virtue, no glories in religion, no happiness in serving God, no delight in
being his children; to you, also, am I sent. Ay, to whom am I not sent if
I take my text? For it goes further than this--it not only gives a
particular description, so that each individual case may be met, but
afterwards it makes a general sweep, and says, "Go into the highways
and hedges." Here we bring in all ranks and conditions of men--my lord
upon his horse in the highway, and the woman trudging about her
business, the thief waylaying the traveller--all these are in the highway,
and they are all to be compelled to come in, and there away in the
hedges there lie some poor souls whose refuges of lies are swept away,
and who are seeking not to find some little shelter for their weary
heads, to you, also, are we sent this morning. This is the universal
command--compel them to come in.
Now, I pause after having described the character, I pause to look at the
herculean labour that lies before me. Well did Melanchthon say, "Old
Adam was too strong for young Melanchthon." As well might a little
child seek to compel a Samson, as I seek to lead a sinner to the cross of
Christ. And yet my Master sends me about the errand. Lo, I see the
great mountain before me of human depravity and stolid indifference,
but by faith I cry, "Who art thou, O great mountain? before Zerubbabel
thou shalt become a plain." Does my Master say, compel them to come
in? Then, though the sinner be like Samson and I a child, I shall lead
him with a thread. If God saith do it, if I attempt it in faith it shall be
done; and if with a groaning, struggling, and weeping heart, I so seek
this day to compel sinners to come to Christ, the sweet compulsions of
the Holy Spirit shall go with every word, and some indeed shall be
compelled to come in.
II. And now to the work --directly to the work. Unconverted, unreconciled,
unregenerate men and women, I am to COMPEL YOU TO COME IN.
Permit me first of all to accost you in the highways of sin and tell you
over again my errand. The King of heaven this morning sends a gracious
invitation to you. He says, "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure
in the death of him that dieth, but had rather that he should turn unto me
and live:" "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord, though
your sins be as scarlet they shall be as wool; though they be red like
crimson they shall be whiter than snow." Dear brother, it makes my heart
rejoice to think that I should have such good news to tell you, and yet I
confess my soul is heavy because I see you do not think it good news, but
turn away from it, and do not give it due regard. Permit me to tell you what
the King has done for you. He knew your guilt, he foresaw that you would
ruin yourself. He knew that his justice would demand your blood, and in
order that this difficulty might be escaped, that his justice might have its
full due, and that you might yet be saved, Jesus Christ hath died.
Will you just for a moment glance at this picture. You see that man there on
his knees in the garden of Gethsemane, sweating drops of blood. You see this
next: you see that miserable sufferer tied to a pillar and lashed with
terrible scourges, till the shoulder bones are seen like white islands in
the midst of a sea of blood. Again you see this third picture; it is the
same man hanging on the cross with hands extended, and with feet nailed
fast, dying, groaning, bleeding; methought the picture spoke and said, "It
is finished." Now all this hath Jesus Christ of Nazareth done, in order that
God might consistently with his justice pardon sin; and the message to
you this morning is this--"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou
shalt be saved." That is trust him, renounce thy works, and thy ways,
and set thine heart alone on this man, who gave himself for sinners.
Well brother, I have told you the message, what sayest thou unto it? Do
you turn away? You tell me it is nothing to you; you cannot listen to it;
that you will hear me by-and-by; but you will go your way this day and
attend to your farm and merchandize. Stop brother, I was not told
merely to tell you and then go about my business. No; I am told to
compel you to come in; and permit me to observe to you before I
further go, that there is one thing I can say--and to which God is my
witness this morning, that I am in earnest with you in my desire that
you should comply with this command of God. You may despise your
own salvation, but I do not despise it; you may go away and forget
what you shall hear, but you will please to remember that the things I
now say cost me many a groan ere I came here to utter them. My
inmost soul is speaking out to you, my poor brother, when I beseech
you by him that liveth and was dead, and is alive for evermore, consider
my master's message which he bids me now address to you.
But do you spurn it? Do you still refuse it? Then I must change my tone
a minute. I will not merely tell you the message, and invite you as I do
with all earnestness, and sincere affection--I will go further. Sinner, in
God's name I command you to repent and believe. Do you ask me
whence my authority? I am an ambassador of heaven. My credentials,
some of them secret, and in my own heart; and others of them open
before you this day in the seals of my ministry, sitting and standing in
this hall, where God has given me many souls for my hire. As God the
everlasting one hath given me a commission to preach his gospel, I
command you to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ; not on my own
authority, but on the authority of him who said, "Go ye into all the
world and preach the gospel to every creature;" and then annexed this
solemn sanction, "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but
he that believeth not shall be damned." Reject my message, and
remember "He that despised Moses's law, died without mercy under
two or three witnesses: of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye,
shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of
God." An ambassador is not to stand below the man with whom he
deals, for we stand higher. If the minister chooses to take his proper
rank, girded with the omnipotence of God, and anointed with his holy
unction, he is to command men, and speak with all authority
compelling them to come in: "command, exhort, rebuke with all long-
suffering."
But do you turn away and say you will not be commanded? Then again
will I change my note. If that avails not, all other means shall be tried.
My brother, I come to you simple of speech, and I exhort you to flee to
Christ. O my brother, dost thou know what a loving Christ he is? Let
me tell thee from my own soul what I know of him. I, too, once
despised him. He knocked at the door of my heart and I refused to open
it. He came to me, times without number, morning by morning, and
night by night; he checked me in my conscience and spoke to me by his
Spirit, and when, at last, the thunders of the law prevailed in my
conscience, I thought that Christ was cruel and unkind. O I can never
forgive myself that I should have thought so ill of him. But what a
loving reception did I have when I went to him. I thought he would
smite me, but his hand was not clenched in anger but opened wide in
mercy. I thought full sure that his eyes would dart lightning-flashes of
wrath upon me; but, instead thereof, they were full of tears. He fell
upon my neck and kissed me; he took off my rags and did clothe me
with his righteousness, and caused my soul to sing aloud for joy; while
in the house of my heart and in the house of his church there was music
and dancing, because his son that he had lost was found, and he that
was dead was made alive. I exhort you, then, to look to Jesus Christ and
to be lightened. Sinner, you will never regret,--I will be bondsman for
my Master that you will never regret it,--you will have no sigh to go
back to your state of condemnation; you shall go out of Egypt and shall
go into the promised land and shall find it flowing with milk and
honey. The trials of Christian life you shall find heavy, but you will
find grace will make them light. And as for the joys and delights of
being a child of God, if I lie this day you shall charge me with it in days
to come. If you will taste and see that the Lord is good, I am not afraid
but that you shall find that he is not only good, but better than human
lips ever can describe.
I know not what arguments to use with you. I appeal to your own self-
interests. Oh my poor friend, would it not be better for you to be
reconciled to the God of heaven, than to be his enemy? What are you
getting by opposing God? Are you the happier for being his enemy?
Answer, pleasure-seeker; hast thou found delights in that cup? Answer
me, self-righteous man: hast thou found rest for the sole of thy foot in
all thy works? Oh thou that goest about to establish thine own
righteousness, I charge thee let conscience speak. Hast thou found it to
be a happy path? Ah, my friend, "Wherefore dost thou spend thy
money for that which is not bread, and thy labour for that which
satisfieth not; hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good,
and let your soul delight itself in fatness." I exhort you by everything
that is sacred and solemn, everything that is important and eternal, flee
for your lives, look not behind you, stay not in all the plain, stay not
until you have proved, and found an interest in the blood of Jesus
Christ, that blood which cleanseth us from all sin. Are you still cold and
indifferent? Will not the blind man permit me to lead him to the feast?
Will not my maimed brother put his hand upon my shoulder and permit
me to assist him to the banquet? Will not the poor man allow me to
walk side-by-side with him? Must I use some stronger words. Must I
use some other compulsion to compel you to come in? Sinners, this one
thing I am resolved upon this morning, if you be not saved ye shall be
without excuse. Ye, from the grey-headed down to the tender age of
childhood, if ye this day lay not hold on Christ, your blood shall be on
your own head. If there be power in man to bring his fellow, (as there is
when man is helped by the Holy Spirit) that power shall be exercised
this morning, God helping me. Come, I am not to be put off by your
rebuffs; if my exhortation fails, I must come to something else.
My brother, I entreat you, I entreat you stop and consider. Do you know
what it is you are rejecting this morning? You are rejecting Christ, your
only Saviour. "Other foundation can no man lay;" "there is none other
name given among men whereby we must be saved." My brother, I
cannot bear that ye should do this, for I remember what you are
forgetting: the day is coming when you will want a Saviour. It is not
long ere weary months shall have ended, and your strength begin to
decline; your pulse shall fail you, your strength shall depart, and you
and the grim monster--death, must face each other. What will you do in
the swellings of Jordan without a Saviour? Death-beds are stony things
without the Lord Jesus Christ. It is an awful thing to die anyhow; he
that hath the best hope, and the most triumphant faith, finds that death
is not a thing to laugh at. It is a terrible thing to pass from the seen to
the unseen, from the mortal to the immortal, from time to eternity, and
you will find it hard to go through the iron gates of death without the
sweet wings of angels to conduct you to the portals of the skies. It will
be a hard thing to die without Christ. I cannot help thinking of you. I
see you acting the suicide this morning, and I picture myself standing at
your bedside and hearing your cries, and knowing that you are dying
without hope. I cannot bear that. I think I am standing by your coffin
now, and looking into your clay-cold face, and saying. "This man
despised Christ and neglected the great salvation." I think what bitter
tears I shall weep then, if I think that I have been unfaithful to you, and
how those eyes fast closed in death, shall seem to chide me and say,
"Minister, I attended the music hall, but you were not in earnest with
me; you amused me, you preached to me, but you did not plead with
me. You did not know what Paul meant when he said, `As though God
did beseech you by us we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to
God.'"
I entreat you let this message enter your heart for another reason. I
picture myself standing at the bar of God. As the Lord liveth, the day of
judgment is coming. You believe that? You are not an infidel; your
conscience would not permit you to doubt the Scripture. Perhaps you
may have pretended to do so, but you cannot. You feel there must be a
day when God shall judge the world in righteousness. I see you
standing in the midst of that throng, and the eye of God is fixed on you.
It seems to you that he is not looking anywhere else, but only upon you,
and he summons you before him; and he reads your sins, and he cries,
"Depart ye cursed into everlasting fire in hell!" My hearer, I cannot bear
to think of you in that position; it seems as if every hair on my head
must stand on end to think of any hearer of mine being damned. Will
you picture yourselves in that position? The word has gone forth,
"Depart, ye cursed." Do you see the pit as it opens to swallow you up?
Do you listen to the shrieks and the yells of those who have preceded
you to that eternal lake of torment? Instead of picturing the scene, I turn
to you with the words of the inspired prophet, and I say, "Who among
us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with
everlasting burnings?" Oh! my brother, I cannot let you put away
religion thus; no, I think of what is to come after death. I should be
destitute of all humanity if I should see a person about to poison
himself, and did not dash away the cup; or if I saw another about to
plunge from London Bridge, if I did not assist in preventing him from
doing so; and I should be worse than a fiend if I did not now, with all
love, and kindness, and earnestness, beseech you to "lay hold on eternal
life," "to labour not for the meat that perisheth, but for the meat that
endureth unto everlasting life."
Some hyper-calvinist would tell me I am wrong in so doing. I cannot
help it. I must do it. As I must stand before my Judge at last, I feel that I
shall not make full proof of my ministry unless I entreat with many
tears that ye would be saved, that ye would look unto Jesus Christ and
receive his glorious salvation. But does not this avail? are all our
entreaties lost upon you; do you turn a deaf ear? Then again I change
my note. Sinner, I have pleaded with you as a man pleadeth with his
friend, and were it for my own life I could not speak more earnestly this
morning than I do speak concerning yours. I did feel earnest about my
own soul, but not a whit more than I do about the souls of my
congregation this morning; and therefore, if ye put away these
entreaties I have something else:--I must threaten you. You shall not
always have such warnings as these. A day is coming, when hushed
shall be the voice of every gospel minister, at least for you; for your ear
shall be cold in death. It shall not be any more threatening; it shall be
the fulfillment of the threatening. There shall be no promise, no
proclamations of pardon and of mercy; no peace-speaking blood, but
you shall be in the land where the Sabbath is all swallowed up in
everlasting nights of misery, and where the preachings of the gospel are
forbidden because they would be unavailing. I charge you then, listen
to this voice that now addresses your conscience; for if not, God shall
speak to you in his wrath, and say unto you in his hot displeasure, "I
called and ye refused; I stretched out my hand and no man regarded;
therefore will I mock at your calamity; I will laugh when your fear
cometh." Sinner, I threaten you again. Remember, it is but a short time
you may have to hear these warnings. You imagine that your life will
be long, but do you know how short it is? Have you ever tried to think
how frail you are? Did you ever see a body when it has been cut in
pieces by the anatomist? Did you ever see such a marvelous thing as the
human frame?
"Strange, a harp of a thousand strings,
Should keep in tune so long."
Let but one of those cords be twisted, let but a mouthful of food go in
the wrong direction, and you may die. The slightest chance, as we have
it, may send you swift to death, when God wills it. Strong men have
been killed by the smallest and slightest accident, and so may you. In
the chapel, in the house of God, men have dropped down dead. How
often do we hear of men falling in our streets--rolling out of time into
eternity, by some sudden stroke. And are you sure that heart of your's is
quite sound? Is the blood circulating with all accuracy? Are you quite
sure of that? And if it be so, how long shall it be? O, perhaps there are
some of you here that shall never see Christmas-day; it may be the
mandate has gone forth already, "Set thine house in order, for thou shalt
die and not live." Out of this vast congregation, I might with accuracy
tell how many will be dead in a year; but certain it is that the whole of
us shall never meet together again in any one assembly. Some out of
this vast crowd, perhaps some two or three, shall depart ere the new
year shall be ushered in. I remind you, then, my brother, that either the
gate of salvation may be shut, or else you may be out of the place where
the gate of mercy stands. Come, then, let the threatening have power
with you. I do not threaten because I would alarm without cause, but in
hopes that a brother's threatening may drive you to the place where God
hath prepared the feast of the gospel. And now, must I turn hopelessly
away? Have I exhausted all that I can say? No, I will come to you
again. Tell me what it is, my brother, that keeps you from Christ. I hear
one say, "Oh, sir, it is because I feel myself too guilty." That cannot be,
my friend, that cannot be. "But, sir, I am the chief of sinners." Friend,
you are not. The chief of sinners died and went to heaven many years
ago; his name was Saul of Tarsus, afterwards called Paul the apostle.
He was the chief of sinners, I know he spoke the truth. "No," but you
say still, "I am too vile." You cannot be viler than the chief of sinners.
You must, at least, be second worst. Even supposing you are the worst
now alive, you are second worst, for he was chief. But suppose you are
the worst, is not that the very reason why you should come to Christ.
The worse a man is, the more reason he should go to the hospital or
physician. The more poor you are, the more reason you should accept
the charity of another. Now, Christ does not want any merits of your's.
He gives freely. The worse you are, the more welcome you are. But let
me ask you a question: Do you think you will ever get better by
stopping away from Christ? If so, you know very little as yet of the way
of salvation at all. No, sir, the longer you stay, the worse you will grow;
your hope will grow weaker, your despair will become stronger; the
nail with which Satan has fastened you down will be more firmly
clenched, and you will be less hopeful than ever. Come, I beseech you,
recollect there is nothing to be gained by delay, but by delay everything
may be lost. "But," cries another, "I feel I cannot believe." No, my
friend, and you never will believe if you look first at your believing.
Remember, I am not come to invite you to faith, but am come to invite
you to Christ. But you say, "What is the difference?" Why, just this, if
you first of all say, "I want to believe a thing," you never do it. But your
first inquiry must be, "What is this thing that I am to believe?" Then
will faith come as the consequence of that search. Our first business has
not to do with faith, but with Christ. Come, I beseech you, on Calvary's
mount, and see the cross. Behold the Son of God, he who made the
heavens and the earth, dying for your sins. Look to him, is there not
power in him to save? Look at his face so full of pity. Is there not love
in his heart to prove him willing to save? Sure sinner, the sight of Christ
will help thee to believe. Do not believe first, and then go to Christ, or
else thy faith will be a worthless thing; go to Christ without any faith,
and cast thyself upon him, sink or swim. But I hear another cry, "Oh sir,
you do not know how often I have been invited, how long I have
rejected the Lord." I do not know, and I do not want to know; all I
know is that my Master has sent me, to compel you to come in; so
come along with you now. You may have rejected a thousand
invitations; don't make this the thousandth-and-one. You have been up
to the house of God, and you have only been gospel hardened. But do I
not see a tear in your eye; come, my brother, don't be hardened by this
morning's sermon. O, Spirit of the living God, come and melt this heart
for it has never been melted, and compel him to come in! I cannot let
you go on such idle excuses as that; if you have lived so many years
slighting Christ, there are so many reasons why now you should not
slight him.
But did I hear you whisper that this was not a convenient time? Then what
must I say to you? When will that convenient time come? Shall it come when
you are in hell? Will that time be convenient? Shall it come when you are on
your dying bed, and the death throttle is in your throat--shall it come
then? Or when the burning sweat is scalding your brow; and then again, when
the cold clammy sweat is there, shall those be convenient times? When pains
are racking you, and you are on the borders of the tomb? No, sir, this
morning is the convenient time. May God make it so. Remember, I have no
authority to ask you to come to Christ to-morrow. The Master has given
you no invitation to come to him next Tuesday. The invitation is, "To-
day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts as in the
provocation," for the Spirit saith "to-day." "Come now and let us reason
together;" why should you put it off? It may be the last warning you
shall ever have. Put it off, and you may never weep again in chapel.
You may never have so earnest a discourse addressed to you. You may
not be pleaded with as I would plead with you now. You may go away,
and God may say, "He is given unto idols, let him alone." He shall
throw the reins upon your neck; and then, mark--your course is sure,
but it is sure damnation and swift destruction.
And now again, is it all in vain? Will you not now come to Christ?
Then what more can I do? I have but one more resort, and that shall be
tried. I can be permitted to weep for you; I can be allowed to pray for
you. You shall scorn the address if you like; you shall laugh at the
preacher; you shall call him fanatic if you will; he will not chide you,
he will bring no accusation against you to the great Judge. Your
offence, so far as he is concerned, is forgiven before it is committed;
but you will remember that the message that you are rejecting this
morning is a message from one who loves you, and it is given to you
also by the lips of one who loves you. You will recollect that you may
play your soul away with the devil, that you may listlessly think it a
matter of no importance; but there lives at least one who is in earnest
about your soul, and one who before he came here wrestled with his
God for strength to preach to you, and who when he has gone from this
place will not forget his hearers of this morning. I say again, when
words fail us we can give tears--for words and tears are the arms with
which gospel ministers compel men to come in. You do not know, and
I suppose could not believe, how anxious a man whom God has called
to the ministry feels about his congregation, and especially about some
of them. I heard but the other day of a young man who attended here a
long time, and his father's hope was that he would be brought to Christ.
He became acquainted, however, with an infidel; and now he neglects
his business, and lives in a daily course of sin. I saw his father's poor
wan face; I did not ask him to tell me the story himself, for I felt it was
raking up a trouble and opening a sore; I fear, sometimes, that good
man's grey hairs may be brought with sorrow to the grave. Young men,
you do not pray for yourselves, but your mothers wrestle for you. You
will not think of your own souls, but your fathers anxiety is exercised
for you. I have been at prayer meetings, when I have heard children of
God pray there, and they could not have prayed with more earnestness
and more intensity of anguish if they had been each of them seeking
their own soul's salvation. And is it not strange that we should be ready
to move heaven and earth for your salvation, and that still you should
have no thought for yourselves, no regard to eternal things?
Now I turn for one moment to some here. There are some of you here
members of Christian churches, who make a profession of religion, but
unless I be mistaken in you--and I shall be happy if I am--your
profession is a lie. You do not live up to it, you dishonour it; you can
live in the perpetual practice of absenting yourselves from God's house,
if not in sins worse than that. Now I ask such of you who do not adorn
the doctrine of God your Saviour, do you imagine that you can call me
your pastor, and yet that my soul cannot tremble over you and in secret
weep for you? Again, I say it may be but little concern to you how you
defile the garments of your Christianity, but it is a great concern to
God's hidden ones, who sigh and cry, and groan for the iniquities of the
professors of Zion.
Now does anything else remain to the minister besides weeping and
prayer? Yes, there is one thing else. God has given to his servants not
the power of regeneration, but he has given them something akin to it.
It is impossible for any man to regenerate his neighbour; and yet how
are men born to God? Does not the apostle say of such an one that he
was begotten by him in his bonds. Now the minister has a power given
him of God, to be considered both the father and the mother of those
born to God, for the apostle said he travailed in birth for souls till Christ
was formed in them. What can we do then? We can now appeal to the Spirit. I
know I have preached the gospel, that I have preached it earnestly; I
challenge my Master to honour his own promise. He has said it shall not
return unto me void, and it shall not. It is in his hands, not mine. I
cannot compel you, but thou O Spirit of God who hast the key of the heart,
thou canst compel. Did you ever notice in that chapter of the Revelation,
where it says, "Behold I stand at the door and knock," a few verses before,
the same person is described, as he who hath the key of David. So that if
knocking will not avail, he has the key and can and will come in. Now if the
knocking of an earnest minister prevail not with you this morning, there
remains still that secret opening of the heart by the Spirit, so that you
shall be compelled.
I thought it my duty to labour with you as though I must do it; now I
throw it into my Master's hands. It cannot be his will that we should
travail in birth, and yet not bring forth spiritual children. It is with him;
he is master of the heart, and the day shall declare it, that some of you
constrained by sovereign grace have become the willing captives of the
all-conquering Jesus, and have bowed your hearts to him through the
sermon of this morning.