109SermonsbyJCRyle (continued)
IV. The means whereby we enjoy this gift.
V. And the promise attached to those who believe.
1. First, then, let us inquire what the word of God has taught us respecting the world and the world's character. Now, the testimony of Scripture upon this head is so clear and explicit, that he who runs may read, "The whole world," says John, "lies in wickedness." Our first father, Adam, was indeed created in the image of God, pure and sinless—but in one day he fell from his high estate by eating the forbidden fruit, he broke God's express command and became at once a sinful creature; and now all we his children have inherited from him—a wicked and a corrupt nature, a nature which clings to us from the moment of our birth, and which we show daily in our lives and conversation. In a word, we learn that from the hour of the fall our character has been established—that we are a sinful, a very sinful world.
Beloved, does this appear a hard saying? Do you think such a statement too strong? Away with the flattering thought! We see it proved in Scripture, for every book of the Old Testament history tells the melancholy story of man's disobedience and man's unbelief in things pertaining to God. We read there of fearful judgments, such as the flood and the destruction of Sodom—yet men disregarded them. We read of gracious mercies, such as the calling and protection of Israel—but men soon forgot them. We read of inspired teachers and revelations from heaven, such as the law of Moses—and men did not obey them. We read of special warnings, such as the voice of the prophets—and yet men did not believe them. Yes, beloved, we are a sinful world!
Think not to say within yourselves, "It may be so—but this happened in days of old; the world is better now." It will not avail you. We have read it in Scripture—but we see it also around us, and you will find at this time, even under your own eyes, convincing proof that the charge is literally true. Let any, for instance, examine the columns of a county newspaper, and he will see there within a month enough to make his ears tingle. I speak as unto wise men—you judge what I say. Will he not see accounts of nearly every sin which is abominable in the sight of God? Will he not read of anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, theft, adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, emulations, variance, strife, seditions, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: "of the which," says the apostle (Gal. 5:21), "I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that those who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God." And if such things take place in a land which is blessed with so much light and knowledge as our own, how much more should we find in countries where there is neither one nor the other! If men do these things in a green tree, oh, what shall they do in a dry?
Can you still doubt? I will go further. We see proof in ourselves. Let the best among you search his own heart; let him honestly cast up the number of evil thoughts and unholy ideas which pass through his imagination even in one single day—thoughts, I mean, which are known only to himself and the all-seeing God—and let him tell us whether it be not a most humiliating and soul-condemning calculation. Yes, dear friends, whether you will receive it or not—we are indeed a sinful world. It may be an humbling truth—but Scripture says it, and experience confirms it; and therefore we tell you that the world spoken of in our text is a world which lies in wickedness, a corrupt world, a world which our great Maker and Preserver might have left to deserved destruction, and in so doing would have acted with perfect justice; because He has given us laws and they have been broken, promises and they have been despised, warnings and they have not been believed.
II. The love of God. Such is the world of which we form a part, and such is its character. And now let us hear what the feeling is with which God has been pleased to regard His guilty creatures. We were all under condemnation, without hope, without excuse; and what could stay the execution of the sentence? It was the love of God! "God," says our text, "so loved the world." He might have poured on us the vials of His wrath, as He did on the angels who kept not their first estate—but no! He spared us, "God loved the world!" Justice demanded our punishment, holiness required we should be swept off the earth—but "God loved the world!" Praised be His name, we had nothing to do with man's judgment, which may not show mercy, when a crime is proved. We were in the hands of One whose ways are not as our ways, and whose thoughts are not as our thoughts—and hence, "God so loved the world." May we not well say with the Apostle, "O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! "(Rom. 11:33).
Consider, I ask you, this incomprehensible goodness! Do not many in this world think it no harm to remember injuries, and sometimes to resent them? Do we not find it hard to love those who have given us some slight offence? or if we do profess to love them, do we make any endeavor to promote their happiness? Such, alas! is too seldom our practice; there is but little real affection in these hard hearts. But we are not dealt with according to our own ways, for the God of holiness has loved the sinful world, which has continually dishonored and denied Him. Oh! beloved, let us dwell much on such expressions as these, for they are more precious than rubies; let us bear them continually in mind, for they will not fail us in the day of trial, when temptation is strong and faith weak; let us write them on our hearts and in our memories, and we shall find them a strong consolation in the hour of death and on the bed of sickness. God is indeed love—and God loved the world.
III. The gift of His Son. Let us next inquire in what way it pleased God to manifest this love. We had all sinned. Who then could put away this sin and present us clean and spotless before His throne? We had all failed utterly of keeping His holy laws. How then could we be clothed for the wedding-feast of our Master? Beloved, here is wisdom! This is the very point which the learned of this world could never understand. How, they have asked, can perfect justice and perfect mercy be reconciled? How can God justify His sinful creature, and yet be that Holy One whose law must needs be fulfilled? But all is explained in this simple verse, if you can receive it; and thus it was, "He gave His only-begotten Son."
Observe the magnitude of this gift, "His only-begotten Son." Can anything give you a more tender idea of God's love? Observe again the expression "He gave"—not because we had merited anything, for it was a free gift; not for our deservings, for it was all of grace. "By grace are you saved," says Paul to the Ephesians. "The gift of God is eternal life," says the same apostle to the Romans.
And for what purpose was His Son given? Beloved, He was given to atone for our guilt, by the sacrifice and death of Himself, as a lamb without spot and blemish; and by so doing He made a full, perfect, and sufficient oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. He was given to bear our iniquities and carry our transgressions upon the accursed tree, the cross; for being innocent Himself He was for our sakes accounted guilty, that we for His sake might be accounted pure. Nor is this all: He was given to fulfill the demands of that law which we have broken; and He did fulfill them. He "was tempted in all points," says Paul, "like as we are, and yet without sin". The prince of this world had nothing in Him, and thus He brought in an everlasting righteousness, which like a pure white raiment is unto all and upon all those who believe. (2 Cor. 5:21.)
It would be easy to dwell upon this delightful branch of our subject, beloved—but we must pass on.
IV. The means whereby we enjoy this gift. How then are the benefits of this gift made our own? What are the means through which it is applied to our souls? What is the hand by which we lay hold on this remedy?
Here again our text supplies an answer. It is FAITH. Whoever believes (not with the head, remember—but with the heart), and believing comes to Christ with a confession of his own unrighteousness, and accepts Him as his only hope of salvation—is saved by Faith.
Consider now the beautiful simplicity of this way of life. We do not see written on the gate—Whoever has prepared himself by long repentance—whoever has begun to lead a new life—whoever has done so many good works—whoever has attended church so many times—whoever has given so much in charity—these shall enter into heaven, and no others. No, dear friends; such announcements would frighten many a weary sinner, and these are fruits you will thankfully bring forth a hundredfold after you have entered.
But the only thing required of those who seek admission is faith, and he who approaches in simple childlike faith shall never be rejected. Hear how Paul speaks on this point (Rom. 10:5-10). And, lest anyone should suppose that God is a respecter of people, that there is one way for the rich and another for the poor, one for the learned, another for the unlearned, he adds these comfortable words: "For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him. For whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." But remember also— and I solemnly warn everyone of this—there is no other way to heaven—than the way of faith. God has not left each man to choose his own road to heaven—or his own path for coming unto Christ—but He has appointed one way and no more, and no man shall enter into life, except by this.
"If you believe not," says our Lord, "that I am He, you shall die in your sins!" And hence we may learn this most important lesson, that although God so loved the world, that He gave for it His onlybegotten Son, still the benefits of that gift can never be obtained by those who will not believe.
V. And the promise attached to those who believe. It remains for us in the last place to consider the promises and consequences which our text holds forth to the faithful. We read that "whoever believes shall not perish—but have everlasting life." And is not this a promise the most acceptable to our nature that a gracious God could have devised? We know there is nothing the unconverted fear so much as death: people of the highest courage, who would shrink from no danger and encounter any difficulty, have been seen to tremble and turn pale at the approach of some pain or complaint which seems likely to bring their frail bodies to the grave. And why should this be so?—pain is not very bitter, and life with its cares and anxieties is not so very sweet as to account for it!
No, beloved, the reason is this. Conscience tells every unconverted person, whether he likes to confess it or not, that after death shall come the judgment; conscience tells him that all shall be judged according to their works—that he cannot abide this fiery trial, because he has sinned and not sought reconciliation, and he feels that he may one day have his part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone. Hence it is that he thinks death a most unpleasant subject, and with all his pride of life stands in cowardly fear of his last day; and hence you may understand how blessed these words should be to a sinner's ear, that "Whoever believes on Him shall not perish but have everlasting life."
Observe now the contents of this promise; look narrowly into it, for it will stand a close examination. The believer shall not perish; this earthly tabernacle may indeed be dissolved, and laid in the grave and see corruption—but the true sting of that death is sin, and this his Savior has taken on Him and put away. He shall not perish in the day of judgment; the second death can have no power over him; hell has no claims upon him, and then the words of our blessed Master shall be found a truth. "This is the will of Him that sent Me, that everyone which sees the Son, and believes on Him, may have everlasting life: and I will raise him up at the last day" (John 6:40). "I am the resurrection and the life: he who believes on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die "(11:25, 26).
And more than this: the believer shall have everlasting life. He shall be raised body and soul at our Lord's second coming. He shall have part in that first resurrection, which belongs only to the saints, and finally shall dwell forever in that blessed place where "there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain—for the former things are passed away" (Rev. 21:4).
And now, beloved, judge for yourselves whether it be not true, that our text contains a treasury of precious and most consoling doctrines, and he who can hear it without feeling its value may indeed tremble for the safety of his immortal soul. Believer, let it be your care to carry home these comfortable words on which we have dwelt, and meditate upon them as your daily food throughout the week which is now before you. Let them be ever in your mind, and prepare you for that holy sacrament which Jesus has mercifully ordained; let them add strength to your faith and growth to your sanctification; let them increase your humility and your thankfulness, your zeal for God's glory, and your desire to show forth His praise, your love towards Christ and your love towards your brethren; for surely, dear friends, if God so loved us, it is a small matter if we love our fellow-sinners.
And you too, dear brethren, who have dared hitherto, like Gallio, to care for none of these things, you also are appealed to in this text. Learn then now, if you have not learned it yet, that this single verse, if there were no other, would be sufficient to condemn you in the last day, because it leaves you without excuse for remaining in your sins. You have deserved nothing but wrath; and yet, behold, here is God willing to save, loving, giving, promising all things. Oh! remember how great must be your guilt if you reject so great salvation. You are the very world that God has so loved; for your sakes He gave His only-begotten Son, and even now, at this minute, He is inviting you, by me, His minister, to accept the mercy which He freely offers, to be reconciled with Him who will one day be the judge of all. (Isaiah 55:1, 2; 1:18; Acts 16:31.)
Come then, I entreat you, to your Father, in the name of Christ, for through Him we have boldness and access with confidence. Resist the attempts of the world, the flesh and the devil to detain you; resist even your best friend, if he would keep you back from God and tell you there will be a more convenient season than today. "As though God did beseech you by us: we beg you in Christ's stead, be reconciled to God. For He has made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Cor. 5:20, 21).
May God the Holy Spirit bless the words which we have spoken, to the everlasting benefit of all your souls.
COME UNTO ME
by J. C. Ryle
"Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.
There are few texts more striking than this in all the Bible—few that contain so wide and sweeping an invitation—few that hold out so full and comfortable a promise. Let us consider—
I. Who it is that speaks.
II. Who they are that are spoken to.
III. What is the invitation.
IV. What is the promise.
I. Who it is that speaks. That is a most important question, and it is right to have it answered.
You live in a world of promise. "Come with us," says one party, and you will be rich. "Come with us," says another, and you will be happy.
The devil can promise. "Eat the forbidden fruit," he said to Eve, "and you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. You shall never die." But he lied to her.
The world can promise. "Sell all and embark for California," says one man, "and you will soon roll in wealth." "Invest all your money in railways," says another, "and you will soon make your fortune." I never take up a newspaper without seeing many alluring invitations. I see page after page of advertisements, all full of high-sounding promises. I read of short ways to health, wealth, and happiness, of all descriptions. But it is all words and nothing more, and so many a man finds.
But He who promises in our text is One who can be depended on. It is the Lord Jesus Christ, God's own Son.
He is ABLE to do what He promises. He has all power in heaven and on earth. He has the keys of death and hell. The government is given to Him in time, and all judgment committed to Him in eternity.
He is FAITHFUL to do what He promises. He will not lie, nor deceive, nor break His promise. What He speaks that He will do, and what He undertakes that He will perform. Heaven and earth may pass away—but His word shall not pass away.
He is WILLING to do what He promises. He has long since proved this by the love He has shown to man, and the sacrifice He has made for man's soul. For man He came into the world; for man He suffered and died; for man He endured the cross and the shame. Surely He has a right to be believed.
Beloved brethren, see that you refuse not Him who speaks to you this day. If a letter came to you from the ruler of this country you would not despise it. If you were sick, and advice came from a wise physician, you would not reject it. If you were in danger, and counsel came from your best and truest friend, you would not make light of it. Then hear the words that Jesus sends to you this day. Listen to the King of kings. Then body and soul shall be His.
II. Who they are that are spoken to. Jesus addresses the "laboring and heavy laden." "Come unto Me all you who labor and are heavy laden." Now, whom does this mean?
You must not imagine it describes the poor in this world. That would be a great mistake. It is possible to be poor in time and even poorer in eternity.
Nor yet must you imagine it describes the sick and the afflicted. That also is a great mistake. It is very possible to have trouble in this life and trouble in that to come—and this some of you may find.
The "laboring and heavy laden" describes all who are pressed down and burdened by a feeling of sin. It describes all whose consciences are set at work, and who are brought to concern about their soul—all who are anxious about salvation, and desire to have it—all who tremble at the thought of judgment, and know not how to get through it, and of hell, and are afraid of falling into it; and long for heaven, and dread not getting to it; and are distressed at the thought of their own sinfulness, and want deliverance. All such people appear to be the laboring and heavy laden to whom Jesus speaks.
This was the state of mind in which the Jews were to whom Peter preached on the day of Pentecost. Their consciences were awakened; they felt convinced and condemned; and when he had finished, we are told they said, "Men and brethren, what shall we do?" This was the state of mind in which Saul was when Jesus met him going to Damascus, and smote him to the ground. A light seemed to break in on his mind. He got a sight of his enormous sin and danger; and we read that, trembling and astonished, he said, "Lord, what will You have me to do?" This was the state of mind in which we see the jailer at Philippi. He was roused from sleep by an earthquake. His fear brought his sin to his remembrance, and he came and fell down before Paul and Silas, and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?"
This is the state of mind I desire to see in each of you, for the beginning of all saving religion. You will never come to Christ until you feel your need.
You ought, everyone, to feel laboring and heavy laden. Truly it is a marvelous proof of man's corruption, that men can be so careless as they are. Many, I do believe, feel something of it—but never allow it. There are many aching hearts under silk and satin. There are many merry faces which only hide an uneasy conscience. All is not gold that glitters—many give the appearance of happiness, but are miserable. Few, I believe, are to be found who do not feel something of it some time in their lives. Halyburton said, not a soul in his parish —but once had conviction.
But to all laboring and heavy laden souls, whoever they may be, to you Jesus speaks—to you is this word of salvation sent. Take heed that it is not in vain.
Jesus speaks to ALL such: none are left out. Though you have been a persecutor like Saul, though a murderer like Manasseh, though a cheating extortioner like Zacchaeus, though unclean and profligate like Mary Magdalen—it does not matter. Are you laboring and heavyladen?—then Jesus speaks to you. You may tell me, "I am such a sinner, Jesus never speaks to me." I answer, "It may be so—but are you laboring and heavy-laden?—then Jesus speaks to you. You may say, "I am not fit." I see nothing said of fitness; I only see Jesus calling the laboring and heavy-laden: if this is your case, He calls you. You may say, "I am not this—I am not converted." You do not know, perhaps—but are you laboring and heavy-laden?—then Jesus is speaking to you.
Ah! brethren, I fear many of you know nothing of the state of the soul here spoken of. Your sins never cut you to the heart—or give you a moment's sorrow. You never really felt the confession of the Church this day, "no health in us." You know nothing of communion with Christ. The remembrance of grievous burdens is not intolerable. You are satisfied with your present state: like Laodicea, "rich and increased with goods," comfortable and content. And what shall I say? I will say plainly, there is no hope for your soul while in such a state. I say if your soul is in such a state, better never have been born. Your hard heart must be broken. You must be brought to see your own guilt and danger, your eyes must be opened to understand your sinfulness. All who have entered heaven were once laboring and heavy laden; and except you are, you will never get there.
III. What is the invitation to the laboring and heavy laden? Jesus says, "come unto me."
I love that word "Come." To me it seems full of grace, mercy and encouragement. "Come now," says the Lord in Isaiah, "and let us reason together: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow."
Come is the word put in the mouth of the king's messenger in the parable of the guest-supper: "All is now ready; come unto the marriage."
Come is the last word in the Bible to sinners. "The Spirit and the Bride say, Come."
Jesus does not say, "Go and get ready." This is the word of the Pharisee and self-righteous. "Go and work out a righteousness. Do this and that and be saved." Jesus says, Come.
Jesus does not say "Send." This is the poor Roman Catholic's word. "Put your soul in the hand of the priest. Commit your affairs to saints and angels, and not to Christ." Jesus says Come.
Jesus does not say "Wait." This is the word of the enthusiast and the fanatic. "You can do nothing. You must not ask; you cannot pray; you must sit still." Cold comfort for troubled souls. Jesus says come.
Come is a word of merciful invitation. It seems to say, "I want you to escape the wrath to come. I am not willing that any should perish. I have no pleasure in death. I would gladly have all men saved, and I offer all the water of life freely. So come to Me."
Come is a word of gracious expectation. It seems to say, "I am here waiting for you. I sit on my mercy-seat expecting you to come. I wait to be gracious. I wait for more sinners to come in before I close the door. I want more names written down in the book of life before it is closed forever. So come to Me."
Come is a word of kind encouragement. It seems to say, I have got treasures to bestow if you will only receive them. I have that to give which makes it worth while to come: a free pardon, a robe of righteousness, a new heart, a star of peace. So come to Me.
Brethren, I ask you to hear these words and lay them to heart. I plead for my Master; I stand here an ambassador; I ask you to come and be reconciled to God.
I ask you to come with all your sins, however many they may be. If you come to Him they will be taken away. I ask you to come as you are. You feel unfit; you say you are not good enough. The worse you think yourself, the better prepared you are. Christ is not a Savior of those who think they are righteous—but of sinners. I ask you to come now. No other time is your own. The opportunity past, the door will be shut, and yourself dead. Come now. Come to Christ.
Ah! brethren, I fear that many of you will not take one saving step— will not come to Christ. You go on content with your own devices, like Balaam; like Felix, you never finally come to Christ.
I warn you plainly that you may come to church, and come to the Lord's table, and come to the minister, and yet never be saved. The one thing needed is actual coming to the Savior, actual coming to the Fountain, actual washing in the blood of atonement. Except you do this, you will die in your sins.
Gird up your loins like a man, and resolve that you will come. Do you feel vile and unworthy to come? Tell it to Jesus. Do you feel as if you know not what to say and do when you come? Tell it to Jesus. Tell Him you are all sin; tell Him you are all weakness; tell Him you feel as if you had no faith and no power, no grace and no strength, no goodness and no love—but come to Him, and commit your soul to His charge. Let nothing keep you back from Christ.
Tell Him you have heard that He receives sinners; that you are such a one, and you want to be saved. Tell Him you have nothing to plead but His own word—but He said Come, and therefore you come to Him.
IV. What is the promise. "I will give you rest."
Rest is a pleasant thing, and a thing that all seek after. The merchant, the banker, the tradesman, the soldier, the lawyer, the farmer—all look forward to the day when they shall be able to rest. But how few can find rest in this world! How many pass their lives in seeking it, and never seem able to reach it! It seems very near sometimes, and they imagine it will soon be their own. Some new personal calamity happens, and they are as far off rest as ever.
The whole world is full of restlessness and disappointment, weariness and emptiness. The very faces of worldly men let out the secret; their countenances give evidence that the Bible is true; they find no rest. "Vanity and vexation of spirit" is the true report of all here below. "Who will show us any good?" the bitter confession of many now, just as in David's time.
Take warning, young men and women. Do not think that happiness is to be found in any earthly thing. Do not have to learn this by bitter experience. Realize it while young, and do not waste your time in hewing out "cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water."
But Jesus offers rest to all who will come to Him. "Come unto Me," he says, "and I will give you rest." He will give it. He will not SELL it, as the Pharisee supposes—so much rest and peace in return for so many good works. He gives it freely to every coming sinner, without money and without price. He will not LEND, as the Arminian supposes, so much peace and rest, all to be taken away by-and-by if we do not please Him. He gives it forever and ever. His gifts are irrevocable.
"But what kind of rest will Jesus give me?" some men will say. "He will not give me freedom from labor and trouble. What kind of rest will He give?" Listen a few minutes, and I will tell you.
He will give you rest from guilt of sin. The sins of the man who comes to Christ are completely taken away; they are forgiven, pardoned, removed, blotted out. They can no longer appear in condemnation against him! They are sunk in the depths of the sea. Ah! brethren, that is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of law. The law has no further claim on the man who has come to Christ. Its debts are all paid; its requirements are all satisfied. Christ is the end of the law for righteousness. Christ has redeemed us from the curse of law. "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect in the day of judgment?" No believer can run his eye over the fifth chapter of Matthew, and not feel comforted. And that is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of hell. Hell cannot touch the man who has come to Christ. The punishment has been borne, the pain and suffering have been undergone by Jesus—and the sinner is free. And that, too, is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of the devil. The devil is mighty—but he cannot touch those who have come to Christ. Their Redeemer is strong. He will set a hedge around them that Satan cannot overthrow. Satan may sift and buffet and vex—but he cannot destroy such. And that, too, is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of death. The sting of death is taken away when a man comes to Christ. Jesus has overcome death, and it is a conquered enemy. The grave loses half its terrors when we think it is "the place where the Lord lay." The believer's soul is safe whatever happens to his body. His flesh rests in hope. This also is rest.
He will give you rest in the storm of affliction. He will comfort you with comfort the world knows nothing of. He will cheer your heart, and sustain your fainting spirit. He will enable you to bear loss patiently, and to hold your peace in the day of trouble. Oh! this is rest indeed.
I know well, brethren, that believers do not enjoy so much rest as they might. I know well that they "bring a bad report of the land," and live below their privileges. It is their unbelief; it is their indwelling sin. There was a well near Hagar—but she never saw it. There was safety for Peter on the water—but he did not look to Jesus, and was afraid. And just so it is with many believers: they give way to needless fear—are straitened in themselves.
But still there is a real rest and peace in Christ for all who come to Him. The man that fled to the city of refuge was safe when once within the walls, though perhaps at first he hardly believed it; and so it is with the believer.
And, after all, the most downcast and complaining child of God has got a something within him he would not exchange for all the world.
I never met with one, however low and desponding, who would consent to part with the rest and peace he had, however small. Like Naboth he prizes his little vineyard like a kingdom. And this shows me that coming to Christ can give rest.
Be advised, everyone of you who is now seeking rest in the world. Be advised, and come and seek rest in Christ. You have no home, no refuge, no hiding place, no portion. Sickness and death will soon be upon you—and you are unprepared. Be advised, and seek rest in Christ. There is enough in Him and to spare. Who has tried and did not find? A dying Welsh boy said, in broken English, "Jesus Christ is plenty for everybody." Know your privileges, all you who have come to Christ. You have something solid under foot and something firm under hand. You have a rest even now, and you shall have more abundantly.
Let me speak to those who have not yet come to Christ. Why do you not come? What possible reason can you give? What excuse can you show for your present conduct?
Will you tell me you have no need? What! no sin to be pardoned—no iniquity to be covered over! There is no state so bad as that of utter insensibility. Beware, lest you only awake to hear the word "Depart!"
Will you tell me you are happy without Christ? I do not believe you. I know you are not. You dare not look into your heart—you dare not search your conscience. It is the happiness of a tradesman who is bankrupt and does not look at his books. There is no true happiness outside of Christ!
Take heed. Every morning you are in awful danger. You stand on the brink of hell. Let a fever, an accident, an attack of disease carry you off—and you are lost forever. Oh! take the warning. Escape for your life. Flee, flee to Christ!
Let me speak to those who have not come to Christ—but mean to some day. I marvel at your presumption. Who are you, that talk of some day? You may be dead in a week. Who are you that talk of some day? You may never have the will or opportunity, if not today. How long will you go on halting between two opinions? You must come to Christ some time—some day; why not now? The longer you stay away, the less chance there is of your coming at all; and the less happiness will you have in the world. "Take heed, therefore, lest, a promise being left us of entering into His rest, any of you should seem to come short of it."
Many meant to have come in their old age—but put it off until too late. If like the Levite you put off your journey until late in the day, you must not wonder if the sun has gone down when you are far from home. Come now.
Let me speak to those who have come to Christ indeed. You are often cast down and disquieted within you. And why? Just because you do not abide in Christ and seek all rest and peace in Him. You wander from the fold: no wonder you return weary, footsore, and tired. Come again to the Lord Jesus and renew the covenant. Believe me, if you live to be as old as Methuselah, you will never get beyond this: a sinner saved by the grace of Christ. And think of the sinner's end.
Rest in Christ—and so rest indeed!
The Great Battle
By J. C. Ryle
All men ought to love peace. War is an immense evil, though it is a necessary evil sometimes. Battles are bloody and distressing events, though sometimes nations cannot maintain their rights without them. But all men ought to love peace. All ought to pray for a quiet life.
All this is very true, and yet there is one war which it is a positive duty to carry on; there is one battle which we ought to be always fighting. The battle I speak of is the battle against the world, the flesh, and the devil. With these enemies we never ought to be at peace; from this warfare no man ought ever to seek to be discharged, while he is alive.
Reader, give me your attention for a few minutes, and I will tell you something about the great battle.
Every professing Christian is the soldier of Christ. He is bound by his baptism to fight Christ's battle against sin, the world, and the devil. The man that does not do this, breaks his vow--he is a spiritual defaulter; he does not fulfill the engagement made for him. The man that does not do this, is practically renouncing his Christianity. The very fact that he belongs to a Church, attends a Christian place of worship, and calls himself a Christian, is a public declaration that he desires to be reckoned a soldier of Jesus Christ.
Armor is provided for the professing Christian, if he will only use it. "Take unto you," says Paul to the Ephesians, "the whole armor of God." "Stand, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast-plate of righteousness." "Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God." "Above all, take the shield of faith" (Ephes. vi. 13-17). And not least, the professing Christian has the best of leaders, —Jesus the Captain of salvation, through whom he may be more than conqueror; the best of provisions—the bread and water of life; and the best of pay promised to him—an eternal weight of glory.
All these are ancient things. I will not be drawn off to dwell on them now.
The one point I want to impress on your soul just now is this—that if you want to be saved, you must not only be a soldier, but a victorious soldier. You must not only profess to fight on Christ's side against sin, the world, and the devil, but you must actually fight and overcome.
Now this is one grand distinguishing mark of true Christians. Other men perhaps like to be numbered in the ranks of Christ's army; other men may have lazy wishes, and languid desires after the crown of glory--but it is the true Christian alone, who does the work of a soldier. He alone fairly meets the enemies of his soul, really fights with them, and in that fight overcomes them.
Reader, one great lesson I wish you to learn this day is this—that if you would prove you are born again and going to heaven, you must be a victorious soldier of Christ. If you would make it clear that you have any title to Christ's precious promises, you must fight the good fight in Christ's cause, and in that fight you must conquer.
Victory is the only satisfactory evidence that you have a saving religion. You like good sermons, perhaps; you respect the Bible, and read it occasionally; you say your prayers night and morning; you have family prayers, and give to religious societies. I thank God for this--it is all very good. But how goes the battle? How does the great conflict go on all this time? Are you overcoming the love of the world and the fear of man? Are you overcoming the passions, tempers, and lusts of your own heart? Are you resisting the devil, and making him flee from you? How is it in this matter? My dear brother or sister, you must either rule or serve sin, and the devil, and the world. There is no middle course. You must either conquer or be lost.
I know well it is a hard battle that you have to fight, and I want you to know it too. You must fight the good fight of faith, and endure hardships, if you would lay hold of eternal life; you must make up your mind to a daily struggle, if you would reach heaven. There may be shortcuts to heaven invented by man; but ancient Christianity— the good old way—is the way of the cross--the way of conflict. Sin, the world, and the devil must be actually mortified, resisted, and overcome.
This is the road that saints of old have trodden in, and left their record on high.
When Moses refused the pleasures of sin in Egypt, and chose affliction with the people of God—this was overcoming: he overcame the love of pleasure.
When Micaiah refused to prophesy smooth things to king Ahab, though he knew he would be persecuted if he spoke the truth—this was overcoming: he overcame the love of ease.
When Daniel refused to give up praying, though he knew the den of lions was prepared for him—this was overcoming: he overcame the fear of death.
When Matthew rose from the receipt of custom at our Lord's bidding, left all and followed Him—this was overcoming: he overcame the love of money.
When Peter and John stood up boldly before the Council and said, "We cannot but speak the things we have seen and heard"—this was overcoming: they overcame the fear of man.
When Saul the Pharisee gave up all his prospects of preferment among the Jews, and preached that Jesus whom he had once persecuted—this was overcoming: he overcame the love of man's praise.
Reader, the same kind of thing which these men did you must also do, if you would be saved. They were men of like passions with yourself, and yet they overcame; they had as many trials as any you can possibly have, and yet they overcame. They fought, they wrestled, they struggled: you must do the same.
What was the secret of their victory? Their faith! They believed on Jesus, and believing were made strong. They believed on Jesus, and believing were held up. In all their battles they kept their eyes on Jesus, and He never left them or forsook them. They overcame by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of His testimony, and so may you.
Reader, I set these truths before you: I ask you to lay them to heart. Resolve, by the grace of God, to be an OVERCOMING Christian.
I do fear much for many professing Christians: I see no sign of fighting in them, much less of victory; they never strike one stroke on the side of Christ. They are at peace with His enemies: they have no quarrel with sin. Reader, I warn you--that this is not Christianity; this is not the way to heaven.
Men and women who hear the Gospel regularly, I often fear much for you. I fear lest you become so familiar with the sounds of its doctrines, that insensibly you become dead to its power. I fear lest your religion should sink down into a little vague talk about your own weakness and corruption, and a few sentimental expressions about Christ, while real practical fighting on Christ's side is altogether neglected. Oh, beware of this state of mind! "Be doers of the Word, and not hearers only." No victory—no crown! Fight and overcome!
Young men and women, and especially those who have been brought up in religious families, I fear much for you. I fear lest you get a habit of giving way to every temptation. I fear lest you be afraid of saying "No!" to the world and the devil—and when sinners entice you, think it least trouble to consent. Beware, I do beseech you, of giving way. Every concession will make you weaker. Go into the world resolved to fight Christ's battle—and fight your way on.
Believers in the Lord Jesus, of every Church and rank in life, I feel much for you. I know your course is hard: I know it is a sore battle you have to fight; I know you are often tempted to say, "It is of no use, and to lay down your arms altogether."
Cheer up, dear brethren and sisters: take comfort, I entreat you; look at the bright side of your position. Be encouraged to fight on: the time is short, the Lord is at hand, the night is far spent. Millions as weak as you have fought the same fight; not one of all those millions has been finally led captive by Satan. Mighty are your enemies—but the Captain of your salvation is mightier still--His arm, His grace, and His Spirit shall hold you up! Cheer up! be not cast down.
What though you lose a battle or two? You shall not lose all. What though you faint sometimes? You shall not be quite cast down. What though you fall seven times? You shall not be destroyed. Watch against sin--and sin shall not have dominion over you. Resist the devil--and he shall flee from you. Come out boldly from the world-- and the world shall be obliged to let you go. You shall find yourselves in the end more than conquerors: you shall overcome.
Reader, let me draw from the whole subject a few words of application, and then I have done.
For one thing, let me warn all formalists and self-righteous people-- to take heed that they are not deceived. You imagine that you will go to heaven because you go regularly to church; you indulge an expectation of eternal life, because you are always at the Lord's table, and are never missing in your pew. But where is your repentance? Where is your faith? Where are your evidences of a new heart? Where is the work of the Spirit? Where are the proofs that you are fighting the great battle? Oh, formal Christian, consider these questions! Tremble! Tremble, and repent!
For another thing, let me warn all careless members of Churches to beware lest they trifle their souls into hell. You live on year after year as if there was no battle to be fought with sin, the world, and the devil; you pass through life a smiling, laughing, gentleman-like or ladylike person, and behave as if there was no devil, no heaven, and no hell. Oh, careless Churchman, or careless Dissenter, careless Episcopalian, careless Presbyterian, careless Independent, careless Baptist, awake and see eternal realities in their true light! Awake, and put on the armor of God! Awake, and fight hard for life! Tremble! Tremble, and repent!
Reader, the great battle must be fought by all who want to be saved. And more than this, it must be won!
The Character of the True Christian
by J. C. Ryle
"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." (John 10:27)
That is a glorious saying, a perfect and complete text; containing all I need to know for my soul's comfort, full of privileges and mercies for true believers and penitent sinners, and at the same time shutting the door effectually against self-righteous Pharisees and whitened sepulchers and painted hypocrites. It shows us two things: the character of real Christians, and the spiritual treasures they possess. Or, in other words, what they are to their Savior—and what their Savior is to them. I propose this morning to consider these two things in order, and I pray God you may all be led to examine yourselves by the light which the text affords.
I. First, then, with respect to true Christians—their names, their marks, their character—what does the text say about them? "My sheep," we read, "hear my voice and follow me." The Lord Jesus Christ likens them to sheep; and He declares "they are mine, and they hear me and follow me." There is matter we shall do well to consider in each of these expressions.
True Christians, then, are compared to SHEEP, and we shall find a great depth of meaning in the comparison if we look into it. Sheep are the most harmless, quiet, inoffensive creatures that God has made. So should it be with Christians: they should be very humble and lowly-minded, as disciples of Him who said, "Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." They should be known as people of a very gentle and loving spirit, who desire to do good to all around them, who would not injure anyone by word or deed; who do not seek the great things of this world—but are content to go straightforward on the path of duty and take whatever it shall please God to send them. They ought to show forth in their lives and outward conversation that the Holy Spirit has given them a new nature, has taken away their old corrupt disposition and planted in them godly thoughts and purposes and desires.
When, therefore, we see people biting and devouring one another, saying and doing uncharitable things to their neighbors, fierce, and passionate and evil-tempered and angry on the slightest occasion; full of envy and strife and bitter speaking—surely we are justified in saying, "You do not belong to Christ's flock; you have yet to be born again and made new creatures; there must be a mighty change. Profess what you please, at present we can only see in you the mind of the old man, even Adam the first—but nothing of the Second Adam, even Christ Jesus the Lord. We can discern the spirit of the wolf, however fair your clothing, and we want instead to discover in you the spirit of the lamb."
But again, sheep are of all animals the most useful; none are so serviceable to man, none so necessary in every way for his comforts and conveniences; and such should be the character of a true Christian. We must study to do good in our day and generation, and lay ourselves out for the spiritual and temporal advantage of our brethren. All can do much: it is not the rich alone, and the great, who are able to be useful; there are a hundred ways of conferring benefits beside the form of giving gold and silver; and each in his respective station can do good if he desires.
Has not a poor man a tongue? Then surely, if he is a sheep of Christ's flock, he will use it for his neighbors' profit, when occasion is afforded; he will warn and entreat and counsel and persuade; he will reason and argue, as a witness and servant of God, against sin and carelessness in every shape; he will show himself an affectionate lover of men's souls, who would gladly impart to others the knowledge he has found valuable to himself. He will never allow wickedness to pass unnoticed if, by saying a quiet word on the Lord's side, he may perchance restrain it. He will never allow anger and strife to continue, if he can be the means of making peace.
And then has not a poor man a feeling heart? Then surely, if he is a true sheep of Christ's flock, he will remember those who are in adversity, as being himself in the body. He will not shun the house of mourning—but strive to be a comforter, bearing in mind the proverb "A word spoken in season, how good is it." He will weep with those who weep, as well as rejoice with those who rejoice. He will let men see that he is a real child of his Father in heaven, who does good to the just and the unjust too, and is kind even to the unthankful and the evil.
And cannot a poor man pray? Yes! and effectual fervent prayer avails much. And if he prays for the souls of others, who knows but he may draw down benefits on all around him? Oh! but a real praying Christian, a man who is constantly asking for the Spirit to come down on the place in which he dwells and convert the sleepers—that man is a mighty benefactor. He is working a powerful engine, and if he is the cause of one single person being converted, he has done something that makes all heaven rejoice.
Brethren, let it be written on our minds that all can do much, and those who belong to Christ's flock will strive to do much. No man is so really useful in a church, as a true Christian; and no one can have much real Christianity about him who does not endeavor to do good either by his advice or by his example or by his prayers. Are we indeed the sheep of Christ? Let us never forget this point of our character.
A genuine Gospel-faith has nothing selfish about it—it never makes a man think only of his own salvation. It stirs him up, on the contrary, to concern about the souls of others. I always suspect that those who care nothing whether their brethren are saved or not, must in reality be ignorant or thoughtless about their own state.
Again. Sheep love to be together; they do not like being alone; there are no animals which seem to take such pleasure in being in a flock, and cling to each other's company so faithfully. And so is it with true Christians: it is their delight to meet each other and be together, if possible. It is their continual sorrow and complaint that far too often they have to journey on alone, without any who are likeminded to commune with, about the things which their souls love most; and this is a very sore trial. Friends and relations may be kind and affectionate, they may have everything to make this world enjoyable—but what Christ's sheep sigh and crave after is to have with them people who can enter into their secret feelings, who understand the unseen workings of their inward man, who can comprehend the hidden warfare which goes on in their hearts— people with whom they can take sweet counsel about their souls' health and souls' trials, with whom they can converse freely and unreservedly about their Lord and Master and their hopes of forgiveness through His name.
Who, indeed, can describe the pleasure with which the members of Christ's flock do meet each other face to face? They may have been strangers before; they may have lived apart, and never been in company—but it is wonderful to observe how soon they seem to understand each other, there seems a thorough oneness of opinion, and taste and judgment, so that a man would think they had known each other for years; they seem, indeed, to feel they are servants of one and the same Master, members of the same family, and have been converted by one and the same Spirit; they have one Lord, one faith, one baptism; they have the same trials, the same fears, the same doubts, the same temptations, the same faintings of heart, the same dread of sin, the same sense of unworthiness, the same love of their Savior. Oh—but there is a mystical union between true believers, which they only know who have experienced it; the world cannot understand it—it is all foolishness to them. "Whatever can you find," they say, "to make you take such interest in each other's society?" But that union does really exist, and a most blessed thing it is; for it is like a little foretaste of heaven.
Beloved, this loving to be together is a special mark of Christ's flock— nor is it strange if we consider they are walking in the same narrow way, and fighting against the same deadly enemies—and never are they so happy as when they are in company. The unconverted know nothing of such happiness; they meet each other, and are civil and polite, and even kind in their way—but how seldom do they open their whole hearts, how much of jealousy and cold suspicion there is about their very friendships, how much they conceal from their nearest acquaintances! The sheep of Christ know nothing of all this; it is their hearts' desire to be together, and when together they have all their thoughts in common, there is no reserve, no keeping back.
No doubt there are false professors in the world, who have a form of godliness without the power—tinkling cymbals whose religion consists only in talk, all sound and no substance—but notwithstanding the number of these hypocrites, I still say that true believers are remarkable for their love of communion and fellowship with each other; they are ready to pine away with heaviness when separate; it is their very life-breath to be together.
The last thing I would remark about sheep is this: they are of all animals most helpless, most ready to stray, most likely to lose themselves and wander out of their pasture; and so it is with Christ's people. They are far too ready to turn aside and go in ways that are not good; in vain they are warned and advised to be watchful and take heed to their path; they often get into a drowsy, sleepy frame, and imagine there is no danger, and so they wander down some bypath, and are only wakened by some merciful chastisement or heavy fall. They imagine that they are strong enough to get on without this constant vigilance, and so they take their eye off the Chief Shepherd, and wander on from this field to that, after their own desires, until they find themselves at last in darkness and doubt. And Christ's sheep, too, like other sheep, do seldom return to the fold without some damage and loss, for it is far more easy to get out of the right way when you are in—than to get into it when you are out.
There are some people who imagine Christians are perfect and faultless creatures—but this is indeed an opinion far wide of the truth. No doubt they aim at perfection—but the very best come far short of it; they would tell you that in many things they offend daily, that they are continually erring and straying and backsliding, that the most fitting prayer they could offer up would be this: "Lord, we are no better than wandering sheep. God be merciful to us unworthy sinners!"
And then, too, like sheep, true Christians are easily frightened. It takes very little to alarm them and make them fearful about their own condition; they are jealous and suspicious of danger from every quarter, and, like creatures who know their own weakness and the number of their enemies, they will often imagine there is something to be feared where no fear really is. But still this godly fear is an eminent sign of Christ's flock—it proves that they feel their own helplessness; and when a man knows nothing of it, and is full of presumptuous confidence, there is but too much reason to suspect he knows little of Christianity as he ought to know it.
Such appear to be the reasons why true believers are compared to sheep. They may not always be discerned in this corrupt and naughty world; you may often see no great difference between them and the unbelievers—but still they have a nature of their own, and sooner or later, if you observe, you will see it. You may put a flock of sheep and a flock of swine together in a broad green meadow, and an ignorant man might say at first their natures were the same—but drive them together in a narrow road, with a puddle at one side, and the mind of the animal will soon come out. The swine may have looked clean in the meadow—but as soon as they have the opportunity they will wallow in the mud. The sheep were clean in the meadow, and when they come to the dirt they will keep clean there too if they possibly can. Just so is the case of the Christian and the world: when things run smoothly, and there is no particular inducement to sin, there seems no mighty difference between them—but when there comes a temptation, and self-denial is required, immediately the disposition of the heart comes uppermost—the Christian holds on his way, however narrow it may be, the worldly-minded turns down that broad lane which leads to destruction, and the real character of each is revealed.
II. The second thing to be considered in our text is that word "My." Our Lord does not simply call His people sheep—but He says also "My sheep." It is as though Jesus would have us understand He looks upon them as His property; they are, as it were, stamped and sealed and marked as the possession of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and it is a blessed, comfortable thought that even as men are careful and tender about their earthly belongings, and will not willingly allow them to be lost and damaged, so is our Lord and Savior careful of the souls that belong to Him.
But why are Christ's people called Mine, in this particular manner? There are many sufficient reasons. We are "His" by ELECTION. We were chosen and given to Him by the Father before the foundations of the world were laid; our names were written in the covenant of salvation before we were born, we were predestined or fore-ordained to be His people from all eternity. That is a glorious, a soul-comforting doctrine, however some abuse it: a man may doubtless get to heaven and never feel sure that he was a true sheep of Christ's flock until he gets there; he may walk in much darkness and uncertainty all his days—but to all who really feel in themselves the working of Christ's Spirit, the doctrine that we are His by everlasting election, is full of sweet, pleasant and unspeakable consolation.
But again: Christ's people are "His "by PURCHASE. Death and hell had claims upon everyone of them, they had all broken the law and forfeited eternal life—but Christ has redeemed them. Christ paid the heavy price of their salvation, even His own most precious blood, and well may He call them "Mine," for He has bought them off from captivity and Satan at the cost of His own life. He can say "They are Mine by fair purchase in time, as well as Mine by free election in eternity."
And lastly, Christ's people are "His" by ADOPTION. He has put His Spirit in them, and overturned the power of sin in their hearts. He has given them a child-like frame of mind, so that they cry Abba Father; they are become part of His family, the very sons and daughters of the Almighty; He looks upon them as a portion of Himself, as members of His body and flesh and bones, and loves them and cherishes them accordingly.
See then, beloved, what great things that little word "My "contains. "My sheep" is the name that Jesus gives to Christians. "Mine" by election, by purchase, by adoption. Oh, believe: you may sometimes be cast down and faint-hearted—but if you have any real interest in that blessed title, if you are really in the number of Christ's sheep, you have indeed good reason to rejoice.
III. But I must hasten on to the third point which our text lays down in the character of true believers "My sheep," says Jesus, "hear My voice." This hearing of Christ's voice, what is it? It cannot be the mere hearing of the ears, for many do that who die in their sins. It must be the hearing with the heart, the listening with attention; the believing what is heard—the acting manfully on what is believed. And where may Christ's voice be heard? It sometimes whispers in a sinner's conscience, saying, Oh, do not these abominable things: turn, turn, why will you die? It sometimes speaks solemnly, in a visitation of providence, as a sickness or an accident or an affliction or a death, saying slowly but clearly, "Stop and think; consider your ways: are you ready to die and be judged?" But it generally is to be heard in the reading of Scripture or the preaching of the Gospel; then the voice of the Lord Jesus may be heard plain and distinct. One day it is sharp and piercing: "Except you repent you shall all likewise perish;" "You must be born again." "Awake, you who sleep, and arise from the dead." Another day it is gentle, winning, entreating: "Come unto me, O weary and heavy-laden one, and I will give you rest." "If any man thirsts, let him come unto me and drink." "Whoever will, let him take the water of life freely." In all these ways and manners the voice of Jesus may be heard.
And here comes in the distinction between the converted and the unconverted. Those who are converted hear Christ's voice—but they that are unconverted hear it not. The true sheep of Christ were once foolish and disobedient, serving divers lusts and pleasures, dead in trespasses and sins—but they heard their Redeemer's voice at last, and when they heard they lived; they knew not at first who called them—but they heard a voice they could not disobey, and now they can tell you they are sure it was the Lord's. They heard His voice, they listened to His invitation, they believed His promises, they confessed themselves sinners, and in Him they found peace. And now without His voice they will do nothing; His word, His saying, His command, His will is their rule of life—to be taught of Him by His Spirit and His Bible is their hearts' desire and prayer—to hear about Him from His ministers is the food and drink of their souls. Their ears are like a dry soil, ever thirsting to drink in the water of life. Sometimes they may be tempted to turn aside to hear what the world can offer—but they soon go back again to sit at Jesus' feet and hear His voice, with sorrow and shame and wonder for their own backslidings. The world cannot see that Christ's voice is such a joyful sound; they dislike it—it offends them; to be told they are sinners, and must repent and believe or perish, is a stumbling-block. But Christ's sheep are never offended; day after day they listen diligently to their Shepherd's teaching; no music is so sweet to their ears as
Jesus' voice, and whether preached or written there is nothing they love so much. It seems as if it were spoken for their own particular case, and they cannot, they dare not, they would not for all the world disregard it.
IV. I must go on to the fourth and last mark of a true believer. "My sheep," says the text in John, "hear my voice and follow me." To follow Christ, that is the grand mark of Christians. No man shall ever say of them, they profess and do not practice, they say and do nothing for their Master's sake; they must not only hear their Master's voice—but follow Him. To follow Christ is to place implicit trust in Him as our Redeemer, Savior, Prophet, Priest, King, Leader, Commander and Shepherd; and to walk in His ways, straightforwards. It is to take up our cross and subscribe our name among His people, to look to the Lamb as our Guide and follow Him wherever He goes. We are not to follow our own devices and trust in ourselves for salvation; we are not to follow that vain shadow of a hope, our own doings and performances—but we are to fix our eyes and hearts on Christ; on Him we are to rest our faith for free and full forgiveness, to Him we are to pray for grace to help in time of need, after Him we are to walk, as the best, the brightest, the purest example. The way may be narrow and steep, we must press forward, not turning to the right hand or the left; the way may be dark, we must keep on—there will be light enough in heaven.
O that Christians, the very best of them, were not so slack in following! Some stop to trifle with the perishable things of earth. Some stop to pick up the gaudy, scentless flowers by the wayside. Some stop to sleep, forgetting this is not our rest, it is enchanted ground. Some stop to pick holes and find fault with their fellowtravelers. Few of Christ's sheep do hold on their way as steadily as they might. But still, compared with the world, they are following Christ Jesus. Oh that they would only remember, those who follow Him most fully, shall follow Him most comfortably! They are following Christ Jesus, and they know where they are going; and even in the dark river, in the valley of the shadow of death, they feel a confidence that their Shepherd will be with them, and His rod and His staff will comfort them. They would all tell you they are poor wandering sheep, less than the least of all God's mercies, ashamed of the little fruit they bear—but still, weak as they are, they are determined to follow on to the end, and to say, "None but Christ, in life and in death, in time and in eternity."
Such is the character which the text gives of true Christians. They are compared to sheep; they are called Christ's property; they hear His voice, and they follow Him. To go further at this time would be plainly impossible, and I therefore purpose, if the Lord will, to speak to you about the other branch of the text—the privileges of Christians —this evening. By God's blessing you shall then hear what their Savior is to His people. It only remains to wind up what has been already said by PERSONAL APPLICATION.
I told you this was a text for self-inquiry; and in that light I press upon each of you now. I call upon you, O man or O woman, to put your hand upon your heart and ask that little question, "Am I a sheep of Christ's flock—or am I not? Do I hear His voice or do I not? Do I follow Him or do I not?" Does not your Redeemer and your judge say plainly, "This is the character of my people?" Does He not give you the most certain marks by which to try your state? and if you cannot see in yourself these marks, where and what are your claims to eternal life? Without them you are, for the present, no better than a lost soul. Do you not know there are only to be two sorts of characters before the judgment-seat—sheep on the right hand in honor, and goats on the left hand in disgrace? And do you not know it is just the same even now? There are only two classes of people upon earth—men who hear Christ and follow Christ and are in a way to be saved; and men who neither hear nor follow Him and are in a way to be lost? And which flock do you belong to? There is no middle state. Examine yourself and be wise in time.
Think not to put off this question by saying, "I shall do as well as the rest of the world,"—that well may be doing very badly. The way of the world, indeed! Bring the world to the bar, and try it by the text, "Does the world hear Christ?" Who will stand forth and say it does? Christ's promises and invitations and warnings and threatenings and instructions and exhortations are all alike disregarded and despised; the world is deaf to them; they might never have been spoken. "Oh," says the world, "we shall do very well without minding all that; it was not meant for us." And who was it meant for, then?
But again, does the world follow Christ? Who will stand up and say Yes to that? No, indeed! Christ's ways and Christ's example, holiness and love and meekness and temperance and self-denial, are the exceptions—the rare, scarce things in the world; and the things most frequent are anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, wantonness, pride, vanity, idleness, spiritual sloth, Bible-despising, prayer-neglecting, church-forgetting, worldliness, and the like. "Oh, never mind," says the world; "we shall do very well without being so strict." Very well in the devil's opinion, who would love to ruin every living soul—but not very well in God's. No; indeed the world will neither follow Christ nor hear Christ, anything else sooner—and yet remember it is the character of those who are to have eternal life that they hear Christ's voice and follow Him. Sinner, remember, today I have told you.
And think not, O man, to put me off by saying, "At this rate very few will be saved." You say very truly, and the Lord Jesus Christ Himself foretold it. But let me tell you a secret: Why is it so few are likely to be saved? God would have all men brought unto the knowledge of the truth: why do so many, so very many, come short and take the broad way which leads to destruction? Simply because they will not believe what God has told them in His word; simply because they will have it God will not stand to what He has written in His Bible; they will imagine heaven is to be entered without being Christ's sheep— will have their own way and not God's.
Remember, then, this day, I tell you, that God is willing to receive you if you will only turn to Him: if you will only resolve to think for yourself and never mind the world, if you will only hear the voice of the Lord Jesus Christ and follow Him, if you will only be in earnest and come unto Him for forgiveness and His Holy Spirit, He shall grant you your heart's desire, and you shall never perish but have eternal life. But whether you will hear or whether you will forbear, Christ and Christ only is the way, the truth, and the life—and whatever the world may tell you, no man shall ever come unto the Father but by Him.
All Kinds of Strange Teachings
by J. C. Ryle
"Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings! It is good for our hearts to be strengthened by grace, not by ceremonial foods, which are of no value to those who eat them." Hebrews 13:9
The text which heads this paper is an apostolic caution against false doctrine. It forms part of a warning which Paul addressed to Hebrew Christians. It is a caution just as much needed now—as it was eighteen hundred years ago. Never, I think, was it so important for Christian ministers to cry aloud continually, "Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings!"
That old enemy of mankind, the devil, has no more subtle instrument for ruining souls, than that of spreading false doctrine. "A murderer and a liar from the beginning!" "Be careful! Watch out for attacks from the Devil, your great enemy. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for some victim to devour!"
Outside the Church, he is ever persuading men to maintain sinful lives, and destructive superstitions. Human sacrifice to idols, gross revolting, cruel, worship of disgusting and abominable false deities, persecution, slavery, cannibalism, child murder, devastating religious wars—all these are a part of Satan's handiwork, and the fruit of his suggestions! Like a pirate, his object is to "sink, burn, and destroy!"
Inside the Church he is ever laboring to sow heresies, to propagate errors, to foster departures from the faith. If he cannot prevent the waters flowing from the Fountain of Life, he tries hard to poison them. If he cannot destroy the remedy of the Gospel, he strives to adulterate and corrupt it. No wonder that he is called "Apollyon, the destroyer."
The Divine Comforter of the Church, the Holy Spirit—has always employed one great weapon to oppose Satan's plans. That weapon is the Word of God. The Word expounded and unfolded, the Word explained and opened up, the Word made clear to the head—and applied to the heart. The Word is the chosen weapon by which the devil must be confronted and confounded. The Word was the sword which the Lord Jesus wielded in His temptations. To every assault of the Tempter, He replied, "It is written!" The Word is the sword which His ministers must use in the present day, if they would successfully resist the devil. The Bible, faithfully and freely expounded—is the safeguard of Christ's true Church.
I desire to remember this lesson, and to invite attention to the text which stands at the head of this paper. We live in an age when men profess to dislike dogmas and creeds, and are filled with a morbid dislike to controversial theology. He who dares to say of one doctrine that "it is true," and of another that "it is false," must expect to be called narrow-minded and uncharitable, and to lose the praise of men. Nevertheless, the Scripture was not written in vain. Let us examine the mighty lessons contained in Paul's words to the Hebrews. They are lessons for us—as well as for them.