Justification By Grace
By C. H. Spurgeon
"Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is
in Christ Jesus."—Rom. 3:24.
The hill of comfort is the hill of calvary;
the house of consolation is builded with the wood of the cross; the temple
of heavenly cordials is founded upon the riven rock, riven by the spear
which pierced its side. No scene in sacred history ever gladdens the soul
like the scene on Calvary.
"Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawn'd on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort, than an angel's mirth?
That to the cross the mourner's eye should turn,
Sooner than where the stars of Bethlehem burn?"
Nowhere does the soul ever find such consolation as on that very spot
where misery reigned, where woe triumphed, where agony reached its climax.
There grace hath dug a fountain, which ever gusheth with waters pure as
crystal, each drop capable of alleviating the woes and the agonies of
mankind. Ye have had your seasons of woe, my brethren and my sisters in
Christ Jesus; and ye will confess it was not at Olivet that ye ever found
comfort, not on the hill of Sinai, nor on Tabor; but Gethsemane, Gabbatha,
and Golgotha have been a means of comfort to you. The bitter herbs of
Gethsemane have often taken away the bitters of your life; the scourge of
Gabbatha hath often scourged away your cares, and the groans of Calvary
have put all other groans to flight.
 We have, this morning, then, a
subject which I trust may be the means of comforting God's saints,
seeing it takes its rise at the cross, and thence runs on in a rich stream
of perennial blessing to all believers. You note, we have in our text,
first of all, the redemption of Christ Jesus; secondly, the
justification of sinners flowing from it; and then thirdly, the
manner of the giving of this justification, "freely by his grace."
I. First, then, we have THE
REDEMPTION THAT IS IN OR BY CHRIST JESUS.
The figure of redemption is very
simple, and has been very frequently used in Scripture. When a prisoner
has been taken captive, and has been made a slave by some barbarous power,
it has been usual, before he could be set free, that a ransom price should
be paid down. Now, we being, by the fall of Adam, prone to guiltiness,
and, indeed, virtually guilty, we were by the irreproachable judgment of
God given up to the vengeance of the law; we were given into the hands of
justice; justice claimed us to be his bond slaves for ever, unless we
could pay a ransom, whereby our souls could be redeemed. We were, indeed,
poor as owlets, we had not wherewith to bless ourselves. We were, as our
hymn hath worded it, "bankrupt debtors;" an execution was put into our
house; all we had was sold; we were left naked, and poor, and miserable,
and we could by no means find a ransom; it was just then that Christ
stepped in, stood sponsor for us, and, in the room and stead of all
believers, did pay the ransom price, that we might in that hour be
delivered from the curse of the law and the vengeance of God, and go our
way, clean, free, justified by his blood.
Let me just endeavour to show you
some qualities of the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. You will
remember the multitude he has redeemed; not me alone, nor
you alone, but "a multitude that no man can number," which shall as far
exceed the stars of heaven for number, as they exceed all mortal
reckoning. Christ hath bought for himself, some out of every kingdom, and
nation, and tongue, under heaven; he hath redeemed from among men some of
every rank, from the highest to the lowest; some of every colour—black and
white; some of every standing in society, the best and the worst. For some
of all sorts hath Jesus Christ given himself a ransom that they might be
redeemed unto himself.
Now, concerning this ransom, we
have to observe, that it was all paid, and all paid at once.
When Christ redeemed his people, he did it thoroughly; he did not leave a
single debt unpaid, nor yet one farthing for them to settle afterwards.
God demanded of Christ the payment for the sins of all his people; Christ
stood forward, and to the utmost farthing paid whate'er his people owed.
The sacrifice of Calvary was not a part payment; it was not a partial
exoneration, it was a complete and perfect payment, and it obtained a
complete and perfect remittal of all the debts of all believers that have
lived, do live, or shall live, to the very end of time. On that day when
Christ hung on the cross, he did not leave a single farthing for us to pay
as a satisfaction to God; he did not leave, from a thread even to a
shoe-latchet, that he had not satisfied. The whole of the demands of the
law were paid down there and then by Jehovah Jesus, the great high priest
of all his people. And blessed be his name, he paid it all at once too. So
priceless was the ransom, so princely and munificent was the price
demanded for our souls, one might have thought it would have been
marvellous if Christ had paid it by instalments; some of it now, and some
of it then. King's ransoms have sometimes been paid part at once, and part
in dues afterwards, to run through years. But not so our Saviour: once for
all he gave himself a sacrifice; at once he counted down the price, and
said, "It is finished," leaving nothing for him to do, nor for us to
accomplish. He did not drivel out a part-payment, and then declare that he
would come again to die, or that he would again suffer, or that he would
again obey; but down upon the nail, to the utmost farthing, the ransom of
all people was paid, and a full receipt given to them, and Christ nailed
that receipt to his cross, and said, "It is done, it is done; I have taken
away the handwriting of ordinances, I have nailed it to the cross; who is
he that shall condemn my people, or lay anything to their charge? for I
have blotted out like a cloud their transgressions, and like a thick cloud
their sins!"
And when Christ paid all this
ransom, will you just notice, that he did it all himself! He was
very particular about that. Simon, the Cyrenian, might bear the cross; but
Simon, the Cyrenian, might not be nailed to it. That sacred circle of
Calvary was kept for Christ alone. Two thieves were with him there; not
righteous men, lest any should have said that the death of those two
righteous men helped the Saviour. Two thieves hung there with him, that
men might see that there was majesty in his misery, and that he could
pardon men and show his sovereignty, even when he was dying. There were no
righteous men to suffer; no disciples shared his death; Peter was not
dragged there to be beheaded, John was not nailed to a cross side by side
with him; he was left there alone. He says, "I have trodden the wine press
alone; and of the people there was none with me." The whole of the
tremendous debt was put upon his shoulders; the whole weight of the sins
of all his people was placed upon him. Once he seemed to stagger under it:
"Father, if it be possible." But again he stood upright: "Nevertheless,
not my will, but thine be done." The whole of the punishment of his people
was distilled into one cup; no mortal lip might give it so much as a
solitary sip. When he put it to his own lips, it was so bitter, he well
nigh spurned it—"Let this cup pass from me." But his love for his people
was so strong, that he took the cup in both his hands, and
"At one tremendous draught of love
He drank damnation dry,"
for all his people. He drank it all, he endured all, he suffered all; so
that now for ever there are no flames of hell for them, no racks of
torment; they have no eternal woes; Christ hath suffered all they ought to
have suffered, and they must, they shall go free. The work was completely
done by himself, without a helper.
And note, again, it was
accepted. In truth, it was a goodly ransom. What could equal it? A
soul "exceeding sorrowful even unto death;" a body torn with torture; a
death of the most inhuman kind; and an agony of such a character, that
tongue cannot speak of it, nor can even man's mind imagine its horror. It
was a goodly price. But say, was it accepted? There have been prices paid
sometimes, or rather offered, which never were accepted by the party to
whom they were offered, and therefore the slave did not go free. But this
was accepted. The evidence I will shew you. When Christ declared that he
would pay the debt for all his people, God sent the officer to arrest him
for it; he arrested him in the garden of Gethsemane, and seizing upon him,
he dragged him to the bar of Pilate, to the bar of Herod, and to the
judgment seat of Caiaphas; the payment was all made, and Christ was put
into the grave. He was there, locked up in durance vile, until the
acceptance should have been ratified in heaven. He slept there a portion
of three days in his tomb. It was declared that the ratification was to be
this: the surety was to go his way as soon as ever his suretyship
engagements had been fulfilled. Now let your minds picture the buried
Jesus. He is in the sepulchre. 'Tis true he has paid all the debt, but the
receipt is not yet given; he slumbers in that narrow tomb. Fastened in
with a seal upon a giant stone, he sleeps still in his grave; not yet has
the acceptance been given from God; the angels have not yet come from
heaven to say, "The deed is done, God has accepted thy sacrifice." Now is
the crisis of this world; it hangs trembling in the balance. Will God
accept the ransom, or will he not? We shall see. An angel comes from
heaven with exceeding brightness; he rolls away the stone; and forth comes
the captive, with no manacles upon his hands, with the grave clothes left
behind him; free, never more to suffer, never more to die. Now,
"If Jesus had not paid the debt,
He ne'er had been at freedom set."
If God had not accepted his sacrifice, he would have been in his tomb at
this moment; he never would have risen from his grave. But his
resurrection was a pledge of God's accepting him. He said, "I have had a
claim upon thee to this hour; that claim is paid now; go thy way." And
death gave up his royal captive, the stone was rolled into the garden, and
the conqueror came forth, leading captivity captive.
And, moreover, God gave a second
proof of acceptance; for he took his only begotten Son to heaven,
and set him at his right hand, far above all principalities and powers;
and therein he meant to say to him, "Sit upon the throne, for thou hast
done the mighty deed; all thy works and all thy miseries are accepted as
the ransom of men." O my beloved, think what a grand sight it must have
been when Christ ascended into glory; what a noble certificate it must
have been of his Father's acceptance of him! Do you not think you see the
scene on earth? It is very simple. A few disciples are standing upon a
hill, and Christ mounts into the air in slow and solemn movement, as if an
angel sped his way by gentle degrees, like mist or exhalation from the
lake into the skies. Can you imagine what is going on up yonder? Can you
for a moment conceive how, when the mighty conqueror entered the gates of
heaven, the angels met him,
"They brought his chariot from on high,
To bear him to his throne;
Clapp'd their triumphant wings, and cried,
'The glorious work is done'"
Can you think how loud were the plaudits when he entered the gates of
heaven? Can you conceive how they pressed on one another, to behold how he
came conquering and red from the fight? Do you see Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
and all the saints redeemed, come to behold the Saviour and the Lord? They
had desired to see him, and now their eyes behold him in flesh and blood,
the conqueror over death and hell! Do you think you see him, with hell at
his chariot- wheels, with death dragged as a captive through the royal
streets of heaven? Oh, what a spectacle was there that day! No Roman
warrior ever had such a triumph; none ever saw such a majestic sight. The
pomp of a whole universe, the royalty of entire creation, cherubim and
seraphim and all powers create, did swell the show; and God himself, the
Everlasting One, crowned all, when he pressed his Son to his bosom, and
said, "Well done, well done; thou hast finished the work which I gave thee
to do. Rest here for ever, mine accepted one." Ah, but he never would have
had that triumph, if he had not paid all the debt. Unless his Father had
accepted the ransom-price, the ransomer had never been so honoured; but
because it was accepted, therefore did he so triumph. So far, then,
concerning the ransom.
II. And now, by the help of God's
Spirit, let me address myself to THE EFFECT OF THE RANSOM; being
justified—"justified freely by his grace through the redemption."
Now, what is the meaning of
justification? Divines will puzzle you, if you ask them. I must try
the best I can to make justification plain and simple, even to the
comprehension of a child. There is not such a thing as justification to be
had on earth for mortal men, except in one way. Justification, you know,
is a forensic term; it is employed always in a legal sense. A prisoner is
brought to the bar of justice to be tried. There is only one way whereby
that prisoner can be justified; that is, he must be found not guilty; and
if he is found not guilty, then he is justified—that is, he is proved to
be a just man. If you find that man guilty, you cannot justify him. The
Queen may pardon him, but she cannot justify him. The deed is not a
justifiable one, if he were guilty concerning it; and he cannot be
justified on account of it. He may be pardoned; but not royalty itself can
ever wash that man's character. He is as much a real criminal when he is
pardoned as before. There is no means among men of justifying a man of an
accusation which is laid against him, except by his being proved not
guilty. Now, the wonder of wonders is, that we are proved guilty, and yet
we are justified: the verdict has been brought in against us, guilty; and
yet, notwithstanding, we are justified. Can any earthly tribunal do that?
No; it remained for the ransom of Christ to effect that which is an
impossibility to any tribunal upon earth. We are all guilty. Read the 23rd
verse, immediately preceding the text—" For all have sinned, and come
short of the glory of God." There the verdict of guilty is brought in, and
yet we are immediately afterwards said to be justified freely by his
grace.
Now, allow me to explain the
way whereby God justifies a sinner. I am about to suppose an
impossible case. A prisoner has been tried, and condemned to death. He is
a guilty man; he cannot be justified, because he is guilty. But now,
suppose for a moment that such a thing as this could happen—that some
second party could be introduced, who could take all that man's guilt upon
himself, who could change places with that man, and by some mysterious
process, which of course is impossible with men, become that man; or take
that man's character upon himself; he, the righteous man, putting the
rebel in his place, and making the rebel a righteous man. We cannot do
that in our courts. If I were to go before a judge, and he should agree
that I should be committed for a year's imprisonment, instead of some
wretch who was condemned yesterday to a year's imprisonment, I could not
take his guilt. I might take his punishment, but not his guilt. Now, what
flesh and blood cannot do, that Jesus Christ by his redemption did. Here I
stand, the sinner. I mention myself as the representative of you all. I am
condemned to die. God says, "I will condemn that man; I must, I will—I
will punish him." Christ comes in, puts me aside, and stands himself in my
stead. When the plea is demanded, Christ says, "Guilty;" takes my guilt to
be his own guilt. When the punishment is to be executed, forth comes
Christ. "Punish me," he says; "I have put my righteousness on that man,
and I have taken that man's sins on me. Father, punish me, and consider
that man to have been me. Let him reign in heaven; let me suffer misery.
Let me endure his curse, and let him receive my blessing." This marvellous
doctrine of the changing of places of Christ with poor sinners, is a
doctrine of revelation, for it never could have been conceived by nature.
Let me, lest I should have made a mistake, explain myself again. The way
whereby God saves a sinner is not, as some say, by passing over the
penalty. No; the penalty has been all paid. It is the putting of another
person in the rebel's place. The rebel must die; God says he must. Christ
says, "I will be substitute for the rebel. The rebel shall take my place;
I will take his." God consents to it. No earthly monarch could have power
to consent to such a change. But the God of heaven had a right to do as he
pleased. In his infinite mercy he consented to the arrangement. " Son of
my love," said he, "you must stand in the sinner's place; you must suffer
what he ought to have suffered; you must be accounted guilty, just as he
was accounted guilty; and then I will look upon the sinner in another
light. I will look at him as if he were Christ; I will accept him as if he
were my only- begotten Son, full of grace and truth. I will give him a
crown in heaven, and I will take him to my heart for ever and ever." This
is the way we are saved, "Being justified freely by his grace, through the
redemption which is in Christ Jesus."
And now, let me further go on to
explain some of the characteristics of this justification. As soon
as a repenting sinner is justified, remember, he is justified for all his
sins. Here stands a man all guilty. The moment he believes in Christ, his
pardon at once he receives, and his sins are no longer his; they are cast
into the depths of the sea. They were laid upon the shoulders of Christ,
and they are gone. The man stands a guiltless man in the sight of God,
accepted in the beloved. "What!" say you, "do you mean that literally?"
Yes, I do, That is the doctrine of justification by faith. Man ceases to
be regarded by divine justice as a guilty being; the moment he believes on
Christ his guilt is all taken away. But I am going a step further. The
moment the man believes in Christ, he ceases to be guilty in God's esteem;
but what is more, he becomes righteous, he becomes meritorious; for, in
the moment when Christ takes his sins he takes Christ's righteousness; so
that, when God looks upon the sinner who but an hour ago was dead in sins,
he looks upon him with as much love and affection as he ever looked upon
his Son. He himself has said it—"As the Father loved me, so have I loved
you." He loves us as much as his Father loved him. Can you believe such a
doctrine as that? Does it not pass all thought? Well, it is a doctrine of
the Holy Spirit; the doctrine whereby we must hope to be saved. Can I to
any unenlightened person illustrate this thought better? I will give him
the parable we have given to us in the prophets—the parable of Joshua the
high-priest. Joshua comes in, clothed in filthy garments; those filthy
garments representing his sins. Take away the filthy garments; that is
pardon. Put a mitre on his head; clothe him in royal raiment; make him
rich and fair; that is justification. But where do these garments
come from? and where do those rags go to? Why, the rags that Joshua had on
go to Christ, and the garments put on Joshua are the garments that Christ
wore. The sinner and Christ do just what Jonathan and David did. Jonathan
put his robes on David, David gave Jonathan his garments; so Christ takes
our sins, we take Christ's righteousness; and it is by a glorious
substitution and interchange of places that sinners go free and are
justified by his grace.
"But," says one, "no one is
justified like that, till he dies." Believe me, he is.
"The moment a sinner believes,
And trusts in his crucified God,
His pardon at once he receives;
Salvation in full, through his blood."
If that young man over there has really believed in Christ this
morning, realizing by a spiritual experience what I have attempted to
describe, he is as much justified in God's sight now as he will be when he
stands before the throne. Not the glorified spirits above are more
acceptable to God than the poor man below, who is once justified by grace.
It is a perfect washing, it is perfect pardon, perfect imputation; we are
fully, freely, and wholly accepted, through Christ our Lord. Just one more
word here, and then I will leave this matter of justification. Those who
are once justified are justified irreversibly. As soon as a sinner takes
Christ's place, and Christ takes the sinner's place, there is no fear of a
second change. If Christ has once paid the debt, the debt is paid, and it
will never be asked for again; if you are pardoned, you are pardoned once
for ever. God does not give man a free pardon under his own sign-manual,
and then afterwards retract it and punish man: that be far from God so to
do. He says, "I have punished Christ; you may go free." And after that, we
may "rejoice in hope of the glory of God," that "being justified by faith
we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." And now I hear one
cry, "That is an extraordinary doctrine." Well, so some may think; but let
me say to you, it is a doctrine professed by all protestant churches,
though they may not preach it. It is the doctrine of the Church of
England, it is the doctrine of Luther, it is the doctrine of the
Presbyterian church; it is professedly the doctrine of all Christian
churches; and if it seems strange in your ears, it is because your ears
are estranged, and not because the doctrine is a strange one. It is the
doctrine of holy writ, that none can condemn whom God justifies, and that
none can accuse those for whom Christ hath died; for they are totally free
from sin. So that, as one of the prophets has it, God sees no sin in Jacob
nor iniquity in Israel. In the moment they believe, their sins being
imputed to Christ, they cease to be theirs, and Christ's righteousness is
imputed to them and accounted theirs, so that they are accepted.
III. And now I close up with the
third point, upon which I shall be brief, and I hope very earnest: THE
MANNER OF GIVING THIS JUSTIFICATION. John Bunyan would have it, that there
are some whose mouths are set a watering for this great gift of
justification. Are there not some here who are saying, "Oh! if I could be
justified! But, Sir, can I be justified? I have been a drunkard, I have
been a swearer, I have been everything that is vile. Can I be justified?
Will Christ take my black sins, and am I to take his white robes? Yes,
poor soul, if thou desirest it; if God has made thee willing, if
thou dost confess thy sins, Christ is willing to take thy rags, and
give thee his righteousness, to be thine for ever. "Well, but how is it to
be obtained?" says one "must I be a holy man for many years, and then get
it?" Listen! "Freely by his grace;" "freely," because there is no price to
be paid for it; "By his grace," because it is not of our deservings. "But,
O Sir, I have been praying, and I do not think God will forgive me, unless
I do something to deserve it." I tell you, Sir, if you bring in any of
your deservings, you shall never have it. God gives away his justification
freely; if you bring anything to pay for it, he will throw it in your
face, and will not give his justification to you. He gives it away freely.
Old Rowland Hill once went preaching at a fair; he noticed the chapmen
selling their wares by auction; so Rowland said, "I am going to hold an
auction too, to sell wine and milk, without money and without price. My
friends over there," said he "find a great difficulty to get you up to
their price; my difficulty is to bring you down to mine." So it is with
men. If I could preach justification to be bought by you at a sovereign a
piece, who would go out of the place without being justified? If I could
preach justification to you by walking a hundred miles, would we not be
pilgrims tomorrow morning, every one of us? If I were to preach
justification which would consist in whippings and torture, there are very
few here who would not whip themselves, and that severely too. But when it
is freely, freely, freely, men turn away. "What! am I to have it for
nothing at all, without doing anything?" Yes, Sir, you are to have it for
nothing, or else not at all; it is "freely." "But may I not go to Christ,
lay some claim to his mercy, and say, Lord, justify me because I am not so
bad as others?" It will not do, Sir, because it is "by his grace." "But
may I not indulge a hope, because I go to church twice a day?" No, Sir; it
is "by his grace." "But may I not offer this plea, I mean to be better?"
No, sir; it is "by his grace." You insult God by bringing your counterfeit
coin to pay for his treasures. Oh! what poor ideas men have of the value
of Christ's gospel, if they think they can buy it! God will not have your
rusty farthings to buy heaven with. A rich man once, when he was dying,
had a notion that he could buy a place in heaven by building a row of
almshouses. A good man stood by his bed-side, and said, "How much more are
you going to leave?" "Twenty thousand pounds." Said he "That would not buy
enough for your foot to stand on in heaven; for the streets are made of
gold there, and therefore of what value can your gold be, it would be
accounted nothing of, when the very streets are paved with it?" Nay,
friends, we cannot buy heaven with gold nor good works, nor prayers, nor
anything in the world. But how is it to be got? Why it is to be got for
asking only. As many of us as know ourselves to be sinners may have Christ
for asking for him. Do you know that you want Christ? You may have Christ!
"Whosoever will, let him come and take of the water of life freely." But
if you cleave to your own notions, and say, "No, Sir, I mean to do a great
many good things, and then I will believe in Christ."—Sir, you will be
damned if you hold by such delusions. I earnestly warn you. You cannot be
saved so. "Well, but are we not to do good works?" Certainly you are; but
you are not to trust in them. You must trust in Christ wholly, and then do
good works afterwards. "But," says one, "I think if I were to do a few
good works, it would be a little recommendation when I came." It would
not, sir; they would be no recommendation at all. Let a beggar come to
your house in white kid gloves, and say he is very badly off, and wants
some charity; would the white kid gloves recommend him to your charity?
Would a good new hat that he has been buying this morning recommend him to
your charity? "No," you would say, "you are a miserable impostor; you do
not want anything, and you shall not have anything either! Out with you!"
The best livery for a beggar is
rags, and the best livery for a sinner to go to Christ in, is for him to
go just as he is, with nothing but sin about him. "But no;" say you, "I
must be a little better, and then I think Christ will save me!" You cannot
get any better, try as long as you please. And besides —to use a
paradox—if you were to get better, you would be all the worse; for the
worse you are, the better to come to Christ. If you are all unholy come to
Christ; if you feel your sin, and renounce it, come to Christ; though you
have been the most debased and abandoned soul, come to Christ; if you feel
yourself to have nothing about you that can recommend you, come to Christ.
"Venture on him, venture wholly;
Let no other trust intrude."
I do not say this to urge any man to continue in sin. God forbid! If you
continue in sin, you must not come to Christ; you cannot; your sins will
hamper you. You cannot be chained to your galley- oar—the oar of your
sins—yet come to Christ, and be a free man. No, sir, it is repentance; it
is the immediate leaving off the sin. But mark thee, neither by
repentance, nor by leaving off thy sin, can save thee. It is Christ,
Christ, Christ—Christ only.
But I know you will go away, many
of you, and try to build up your own Babel-tower, to get to heaven. Some
of you will go one way to work, and some another. You will go the ceremony
way: you will lay the foundation of the structure with infant baptism,
build confirmation on it, and the Lord's supper. "I shall go to heaven,"
you say; "Do not I keep Good Friday and Christmas-day? I am a better man
than those dissenters. I am a most extraordinary man. Do I not say more
prayers than any one?" You will be a long while going up that treadmill,
before you get an inch higher. That is not the way to get to the stars.
One says, "I will go and study the Bible, and believe right doctrine; and
I have no doubt that by believing right doctrine I shall be saved." Indeed
you will not! You can be no more saved by believing right doctrine than
you can by doing right actions. "There," says another, "I like that; I
shall go and believe in Christ, and live as I like." Indeed you will not!
For if you believe in Christ he will not let you live as your flesh liketh;
by his Spirit he will constrain you to mortify its affections and lusts.
If he gives you the grace to make you believe, he will give you the grace
to live a holy life afterwards. If he gives you faith, he gives you good
works after- wards. You cannot believe in Christ, unless you renounce
every fault, and resolve to serve him with full purpose of heart. Methinks
at last I hear a sinner say, "Is that the only door? And may I venture
through it? Then I will. But I do not quite understand you; I am something
like poor Tiff, in that remarkable book 'Dred.' They talk a great deal
about a door, but I cannot see the door; they talk a great deal about the
way, but I cannot see the way. For if poor Tiff could see the way, he
would take these children away by it. They talk about fighting, but I do
not see any one to fight, or else I would fight." Let me explain it then.
I find in the Bible, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." What
have you to do, but to believe this and trust in him? You will never be
disappointed with such a faith as that. Let me give you over again an
illustration I have given hundreds of times, but I cannot find another so
good, so I must give it again. Faith is something like this. There is a
story told of a captain of a man-of-war, whose son—a young lad—was very
fond of running up the rigging of the ship; and one time, running after a
monkey, he ran up the mast, till at last he got on to the maintruck. Now,
the maintruck, you are aware, is like a large round table put on to the
mast, so that when the boy was on the maintruck there was plenty of room
for him; but the difficulty was—to use the best explanation I can—that he
could not reach the mast that was under the table; he was not tall enough
to get down from this maintruck, reach the mast, and so descend. There he
was on the maintruck; he managed to get up there, somehow or other, but
down he never could get. His father saw that, and he looked up in horror;
what was he to do? In a few moments his son would fall down, and be dashed
to pieces! He was clinging to the main-truck with all his might, but in a
little time he would fall down on the deck, and there he would be a
mangled corpse. The captain called for a speaking trumpet; he put it to
his mouth, and shouted, "Boy, the next time the ship lurches, throw
yourself into the sea." It was, in truth, his only way of escape; he might
be picked up out of the sea, but he could not be rescued if he fell on the
deck. The poor boy looked down on the sea; it was a long way; he could not
bear the idea of throwing himself into the roaring current beneath him; he
thought it looked angry and dangerous. How could he cast himself down into
it? So he clung to the main-truck with all his might, though there was no
doubt that he must soon let go and perish. The father called for a gun,
and pointing it up at him, said, "Boy, the next time the ship lurches,
throw yourself into the sea, or I'll shoot you!" He knew his father would
keep his word; the ship lurched on one side, over went the boy splash into
the sea, and out went brawny arms after him; the sailors rescued him, and
brought him on deck. Now, we, like the boy, are in a position of
extra-ordinary danger, by nature, which neither you nor I can possibly
escape of ourselves. Unfortunately, we have got some good works of our
own, like that maintruck, and we cling to them so fondly, that we never
will give them up. Christ knows that unless we do give them up, we shall
be dashed to pieces at the last, for that rotten trust must ruin us. He,
therefore, says, "Sinner, let go thine own trust, and drop into the sea of
my love." We look down, and say, "Can I be saved by trusting in God? He
looks as if he were angry with me, and I could not trust him." Ah, will
not mercy's tender cry persuade you?—"He that believeth shall be saved."
Must the weapon of destruction be pointed directly at you? Must you hear
the dreadful threat—"He that believeth not shall be damned?" It is with
you now as with that boy—your position is one of imminent peril in
itself, and your slighting the Father's counsel is a matter of more
terrible alarm, it makes peril more perilous. You must do it, or else you
perish! Let go your hold! That is faith when the poor sinner lets go his
hold, drops down, and so is saved; and the very thing which looks as if it
would destroy him, is the means of his being saved. Oh! believe on Christ,
poor sinners; believe on Christ. Ye who know your guilt and misery come,
cast yourselves upon him; come, and trust my Master, and as he lives,
before whom I stand, you shall never trust him in vain; but you shall find
yourselves forgiven, and go your way rejoicing in Christ Jesus.
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