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SUBJECT: 55 JOH 17:16 The Character of Christ's People
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The Character of Christ's People
November 22, 1855
By
C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892)
"They are not of the world, even as I am not
of the world."-Joh_17:16.
CHRIST'S prayer was for a special people. He
declared that he did not offer an universal
intercession. "I pray for them," said he. "I pray
not for the world, but for them which thou hast
given me, for they are thine." In reading this
beautiful prayer through, only one question arises
to our minds; Who are the people that are
described as "them," or as "they?" Who are these
favoured individuals, who share a Saviour's
prayers, are recognized by a Saviour's love, have
their names written on the stones of his precious
breastplate, and have their characters and their
circumstances mentioned by the lips of the High
Priest before the throne on high? The answer to
that question is supplied by the words of our
text. The people for whom Christ prays are an
unearthly people. They are a people somewhat,
above the world, distinguished altogether from it.
"They are not of the world, even as I am not of
the world."
I shall treat my text, first of all, docrtrinally;
secondly, experimentally; and thirdly,
practically.
I. First, we shall take our text and look at it
DOCTRINALLY.
The doctrine of it is, that God's people are
people who are not of the world, even as Christ
was not of the world. It is not so much that they
are not of the world, as that they are "not of the
world, even as Christ was not of the world." This
is an important distinction, for there are to be
found certain people who are not of the world, and
yet they are not Christians. Amongst these I would
mention sentimentalists-people who are always
crying and groaning in affected sentimental ways.
Their spirits are so refined, their characters are
so delicate, that they could not attend to
ordinary business. They would think it rather
degrading to their spiritual nature to attend to
anything connected with the world. They live much
in the air of romances and novels; love to read
things that fetch tears from their eyes; they
would like continually to live in a cottage near a
wood, or to inhabit some quiet cave, where they
could read "Zimmerman on Solitude" for ever; for
they feel that they are "not of the world." The
fact is, there is something too flimsy about them
to stand the wear and tear of this wicked world.
They are so pre-eminently good, that they cannot
bear to do as we poor human creatures do. I have
heard of one young lady, who thought herself so
spiritually-minded that she could not work. A very
wise minister said to her, "That is quite correct!
you are so spiritually-minded that you cannot
work; very well, you are so spiritually-minded
that you shall not eat unless you do." That
brought her back from her great spiritual-
mindedness. There is a stupid sentimentalism that
certain persons nurse themselves into. They read a
parcel of books that intoxicate their brains, and
then fancy that they have a lofty destiny. These
people are "not of the world," truly; but the
world does not want them, and the world would not
miss them much, if they were clean gone for ever.
There is such a thing as being "not of the world,"
from a high order of sentimentalism, and yet not
being a Christian after all. For it is not so much
being "not of the world," as being "not of the
world, even as Christ was not of the world." There
are others, too, like your monks, and those other
made individuals of the Catholic church, who are
not of the world. They are so awfully good, that
they could not live with us sinful creatures at
all. They must be distinguished from us
altogether. They must not wear, of course, a boot
that would at all approach to a worldly shoe, but
they must have a sole of leather strapped on with
two or three thongs, like the far-famed Father
Ignatius. They could not be expected to wear
worldly coats and waistcoats; but they must have
peculiar garbs, cut in certain fashions, like the
Passionists. They must wear particular dresses,
particular garments, particular habits. And we
know that some men are "not of the world," by the
peculiar mouthing they give to all their words-the
sort of sweet, savoury, buttery flavor they give
to the English language, because they think
themselves so eminently sanctified that they fancy
it would be wrong to indulge in anything in which
ordinary mortals indulge. Such persons are,
however, reminded, that their being "not of the
world," has nothing to do with it. It is not being
"not of the world," so much as being "not of the
world, even as Christ was not of the world."
This is the distinguishing mark-being different
from the world in those respects in which Christ
was different. Not making ourselves singular in
unimportant points, as those poor creatures do,
but being different from the world in those
respects in which the Son of God and the Son of
man, Jesus Christ, was not of the world in nature;
that he was not of the world again, in office; and
above all, that he was not of the world in his
character.
1. First, Christ was not of the world in nature.
What was there about Christ that was worldly? In
one point of view his nature was divine; and as
divine, it was perfect, pure unsullied, spotless,
he could not descend to things of earthliness and
sin; in another sense he was human; and his human
nature, which was born of the Virgin Mary, was
begotten of the Holy Ghost, and therefore was so
pure that in it rested nothing that was worldly.
He was not like ordinary men. We are all born with
worldliness in our hearts. Solomon well says,
"Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child."
It is not only there, but it is bound up in it; it
is tied up in his heart, and is difficult to
remove. And so with each of us; when we were
children, earthliness and carnality were bound up
in our nature. But Christ was not so. His nature
was not a worldly one; it was essentially
different from that of every one else, although he
sat down and talked with them. Mark the
difference! He stood side by side with a Pharisee;
but every one could see he was not of the
Pharisee's world. He sat by a Samaritan woman, and
though he conversed with her very freely, who is
it that fails to see that he was not of that
Samaritan woman's world-not a sinner like her? He
mingled with the Publicans, nay, he sat down at
the Publican's feast, and eat with Publicans and
sinners; but you could see by the holy actions and
the peculiar gestures he there carried with him,
that he was not of the Publicans' world, though he
mixed with them. There was something so different
in his nature, that you could not have found an
individual in all the world whom could have set
beside him and said, "There! he is of that man's
world," Nay, not even John, though he leaned on
his bosom and partook very much of his Lord's
spirit, was exactly of that world to which Jesus
belonged; for even he once in his Boanergean
spirit, said words to this effect, "Let us call
down fire from heaven on the heads of those who
oppose thee,"-a thing that Christ could not endure
for a moment, and thereby proved that he was
something even beyond John's world.
Well, beloved, in some sense, the Christian man is
not of the world even in his nature. I do not mean
in his corrupt and fallen nature, but in his new
nature. There is something in a Christian that is
utterly and entirely distinct from that of anybody
else. Many persons think that the difference
between a Christian and worldling consists in
this: one goes to chapel twice on a Sabbath-day,
another does not go but once, or perhaps not at
all; one of them takes the sacrament, the other
does not; one pays attention to holy things, the
other pays very little attention to them. But, ah,
beloved, that does not make a Christian. The
distinction between a Christian and a worldling is
not merely external, but internal. The difference
is one of nature, and not of act.
A Christian is as essentially difference from a
worldling as a dove is from a raven, or a lamb
from a lion. He is not of the world even in his
nature. You could not make him a worldling. You
might do what you liked; you might cause him to
fall into some temporary sin; but you could not
make him a worldling. You might cause him to
backslide; but you could not make him a sinner, as
he used to be. He is not of the world by his
nature. He is a twice-born man; in his veins run
the blood of the royal family of the universe. He
is a nobleman; he is a heaven-born child. His
freedom is not merely a bought one, but he hath
his liberty his new-born nature; he is essentially
and entirely different from the world. There are
persons in this chapel now who are more totally
distinct from one another than you can even
conceive. I have some here who are intelligent,
and some who are ignorant; some who are rich, and
some who are poor; but I do not allude to those
distinctions: they all melt away into nothing in
that great distinction-dead or alive, spiritual or
carnal, Christian or worldling. And oh! if ye are
God's people, then ye are not of the world in your
nature; for ye are "not of the world, even as
Christ was not of the world."
2. Again: you are not of the world in your office.
Christ's office had nothing to do with worldly
things. "Art thou a king them?" Yes; I am a king;
but my kingdom is not of this world. "Art thou a
priest?" Yes; I am a priest; but my priesthood is
not the priesthood which I shall soon lay aside,
or which shall be discontinued as that of others
has been. "Art thou a teacher?" Yes; but my
doctrines are not the doctrines of morality,
doctrines that concern earthly dealings between
man and man simply; my doctrine cometh down from
heaven. So Jesus Christ, we say, is "not of the
world." He had no office that could be termed a
worldly one, and he had no aim which was in the
least worldly. He did not seek his own applause,
his own fame, his own honour; his very office was
not of the world. And, O believer! what is thy
office? Hast thou none at all? Why, yes, man! Thou
art a priest unto the Lord thy God; thy office is
to offer a sacrifice of prayer and praise each
day. Ask a Christian what he is. Say to him: "What
is your official standing? What are you by
office?" Well, if he answers you properly, he will
not say, "I am a draper, or druggist," or anything
of that sort. No; he will say, "I am a priest unto
my God. The office unto which I am called, is to
be the salt of the earth. I am a city set on a
hill, a light that cannot be hid. That is my
office. My office is not a worldly one." Whether
yours be the office of the minister, or the
deacon, or the church member, ye are not of this
world is your office, even as Christ was not of
the world; your occupation is not a worldly one.
3. Again, ye are not of the world in your
character; for that is the chief point in which
Christ was not of the world. And now, brethren, I
shall have to turn somewhat from doctrine to
practice before I get rightly to this part of the
subject; for I must reprove many of the Lord's
people, that they do not sufficiently manifest
that they are not of the world in character, even
as Christ was not of the world. Oh! how many of
you there are, who will assemble around the table
at the supper of your Lord, who do not live like
your Saviour. How many of you there are, who join
our church and walk with us, and yet are not
worthy of your high calling and profession. Mark
you the churches all around, and let your eyes run
with tears, when you remember that of many of
their members it cannot be said, "ye are not of
this world," for they are of the world. O, my
hearers, I fear many of you are worldly, carnal,
and covetous; and yet ye join the churches, and
stand well with God's people by a hypocritical
profession. O ye whitewashed sepulchres! ye would
deceive even the very elect! ye make clean the
outside of the cup and platter, but your inward
part is very wickedness. O that a thundering voice
might speak this to your ears!-"Those whom Christ
loves are not of the world," but ye are of the
world; therefore ye cannot be his, even though ye
profess so to be; for those that love him are not
such as you. Look at Jesus character; how
different from every other man's-pure, perfect,
spotless, even such should be the life of the
believer. I plead not for the possibility of
sinless conduct in Christians, but I must hold
that grace makes men to differ, and that God's
people will be very different from other kinds of
people. A servant of God will be a God's-man
everywhere. As a chemist, he could not indulge in
any tricks that such men might play with their
drugs; as a grocer-if indeed it be not a phantom
that such things are done-he could not mix sloe
leaves with tea or red lead in the pepper; if he
practised any other kind of business, he could not
for a moment condescend to the little petty
shifts, called "methods of business." To him it is
nothing what is called "business;" it is what is
called God's law, he feels that he is not of the
world, consequently, he goes against its fashions
and its maxims. A singular story is told of a
certain Quaker. One day he was bathing in the
Thames, and a waterman called out to him, "Ha!
there goes the Quaker." "How do you know I'm a
Quaker?" "Because you swim against the stream; it
is the way the Quakers always do." That is the way
Christians always ought to do-to swim against the
stream. The Lord's people should not go along with
the rest in their worldliness. Their characters
should be visibly different. You should be such
men that your fellows can recognise you without
any difficulty, and say, "Such a man is a
Christian." Ah! beloved, it would puzzle the angel
Gabriel himself, to tell whether some of you are
Christians or not, if he were sent down to the
world to pick out the righteous from the wicked.
None but God could do it, for in these days of
worldly religion they are so much alike. It was an
ill day for the world, when the sons of God and
the daughters of men were mingled together: and it
is an ill day now, when Christians and worldlings
are so mixed, that you cannot tell the difference
between them. God save us from a day of fire that
may devour us in consequence! But O beloved! the
Christian will be always different from the world.
This is a great doctrine, and it will be found as
true in ages to come as in the centuries which are
past. Looking back into history, we read this
lesson: "They are not of the world, even as I am
not of the world." We see them driven to the
catacombs of Rome; we see them hunted about like
partridges; and wherever in history you find God's
servants, you can recognise them by their
distinct, unvarying character-they are not of the
world, but were a people scarred and peeled; a
people entirely distinct from the nations. And if
in this age, there are no different people, if
there are none to be found who differ from other
people, there are no Christians; for Christians
will be always different from the world. They are
not of the world; even as Christ is not of the
world. This is the doctrine.
II. But now for treating this text EXPERIMENTALLY.
Do we, dearly beloved, feel this truth? Has it
ever been laid to our souls, so that we can feel
it is ours? "They are not of the world, even as I
am not of the world." Have we ever felt that we
are not of the world? Perhaps there is a believer
sitting in a pew to-night, who says, "Well, sire,
I can't say that I feel as if I was not of the
world, for I have just come from my shop, and
worldliness is still hanging about me." Another
says, "I have been in trouble and my mind is very
much harassed-I can't feel that I am different
from the world; I am afraid that I am of the
world." But, beloved, we must not judge ourselves
rashly, because just at this moment we discern not
the spot of God's children. Let me tell you, there
are always certain testing moments when you can
tell of what kind of stuff a man is made. Two men
are walking. Part of the way their road lies side
by side. How do you tell which man is going to the
right, and which to the left? Why, when they come
to the turning point. Now, to-night is not a
turning point, for you are sitting with worldly
people here, but at other times we may
distinguish.
Let me tell you one or two turning points, when
every Christian will feel that he is not of the
world. One is, when he gets into very deep
trouble. I do believe and protest, that we never
feel so unearthly as when we get plunged down into
trouble. Ah! when some creature comfort hath been
swept away, when some precious blessing hath
withered in our sight, like the fair lily, snapped
at the stalk; when some mercy has been withered,
like Jonah's gourd in the night-then it is that
the Christian feels, "I am not of the world." His
cloak is torn from him, and the cold wind whistles
almost through him; and then he says, "I am a
stranger in the world, as all my fathers were.
Lord, thou hast been my dwelling-place in all
generations." You have had at times deep sorrows.
Thank God for them! They are testing moments. When
the furnace is hot, it is then that the gold is
tried best. Have you felt at such a time that you
were not of the world? Or, have you rather sat
down, and said, "Oh! I do not deserve this
trouble?" Did you break under it? Did you bow down
before it and let it crush you while you cursed
your Maker? Or did your spirit, even under its
load, still lift itself unto him, like a man all
dislocated on the battle-field, whose limbs are
cut away, but who still lifts himself up as best
he can, and looks over the field to see if there
be a friend approaching. Did you do so? Or did you
lie down in desperation and despair? If you did
that, methinks you are no Christian; but if there
was a rising up, it was a testing moment, and it
proved that you were "not of the world," because
you could master affliction; because you could
tread it under foot, and say-
"When all created streams are dry,
His goodness is the same;
With this I well am satisfied,
And glory in his name."
But another testing moment is prosperity. Oh!
there have been some of God's people, who have
been more tried by prosperity than by adversity.
Of the two trials, the trial of adversity is less
severe to the spiritual man than that of
prosperity. "As the fining pot for silver, so is a
man to his praise." It is a terrible thing to be
prosperous. You had need to pray to God, not only
to help you in your troubles, but to help you in
your blessings. Mr. Whitfield once had a petition
to put up for a young man who had-stop, you will
think it was for a young man who had lost his
father or his property. No! "The prayers of the
congregation are he has need of much grace to keep
him humble in the midst of riches." That is the
kind of prayer that ought to be put up; for
prosperity is a hard thing to bear. Now, perhaps
you have become almost intoxicated with worldly
delights, even as a Christian. Everything goes
well with you; you have loved, and you are loved.
Your affairs are prosperous; your heart rejoices,
your eyes sparkle; you tread the earth with a
happy soul and a joyous countenance; you are a
happy man, for you have found that even in worldly
things, "godliness with contentment is great
gain." Did you ever feel,-
"These can never satisfy;
Give me Christ, or else I die."
Did you feel that these comforts were nothing but
the leaves of the tree, and not the fruit, and
that you could not live upon mere leaves? Did you
feel they were after all nothing but husks? Or did
you not sit down and say, "Now, soul, take thine
ease; thou hast goods laid up for many years; eat,
drink, and be merry?" If you did imitate the rich
fool, then you were of the world; but if your
spirit went up above your prosperity so that you
still lived near to God, then you proved that you
were a child of God, for you were not of the
world. These are testing points; both prosperity
and adversity.
Again: you may test yourselves in this way in
solitude and in company. In solitude you may tell
whether you are not of the world. I sit me down,
throw the window up, look out on the stars, and
think of them as the eyes of God looking down upon
me! And oh! does it not seem glorious at times to
consider the heavens when we can say, "Ah! beyond
those stars in my house not made with hands; those
stars are mile-stones on the road to glory, and I
shall soon tread the glittering way, or be carried
by seraphs far beyond them, and be there!" Have
you felt in solitude that you are not of the
world? And so again in company. Ah! beloved,
believe me, company is one of the best tests for a
Christian. You are invited to an evening party.
Sundry amusements are provided which are not
considered exactly sinful, but which certainly
cannot come under the name of pious amusements.
You sit there with the rest; there is a deal of
idle chat going on, you would be thought
puritanical to protest against it. Have you not
come away-and notwithstanding all has been very
pleasant, and friends have been very
agreeable-have you not been inclined to say, "Ah!
that does not do for me; I would rather be in a
prayer meeting; I could be with the people of God,
than in fine rooms with all the dainties and
delicacies that could be provided without the
company of Jesus. By God's grace I will seek to
shun all these places as much as possible." That
is a good test. You will prove in this way that
you are not of the world. And you may do so in
great many other ways, which I have no time to
mention. Have you felt this experimentally, so
that you can say, "I know that I am not of the
world, I feel it; I experience it." Don't talk of
doctrine. Give me doctrine ground into experience.
Doctrine is good; but experience is better.
Experimental doctrine is the true doctrine which
comforts and which edifies.
IV. And now, lastly we must briefly apply this in
PRACTICE. "They are not of the world, even as I am
not of the world." And, first, allow me, man or
woman, to apply this to thee. Thou who art of the
world, whose maxims, whose habits, whose
behaviour, whose feelings, whose everything is
worldly and carnal, list thee to this. Perhaps
thou makest some profession of religion. Hear me,
then. Thy boasting of religion is empty as a
phantom, and shall pass away when the sun rises,
as the ghosts sleep in their grave at the crowing
of the cock. Thou hast some pleasure in that
professioned religion of thine wherewith thou art
arrayed, and which thou carriest about thee as a
cloak, and usest as a stalking-horse to thy
business, and a net to catch the honour of the
world, and yet thou art worldly, like other men.
Then I tell thee if there be no distinction
between thyself and the worldly, the doom of the
worldly shall be thy doom. If thou wert marked and
watched, thy next door tradesman would act as thou
dost, and thou actest as he does; there is no
distinction between thee and the world. Hear me,
then; it is God's solemn truth. Thou art none of
his. If thou art like the rest of the world, thou
art of the world. Thou art a goat, and with goats
thou shalt be cursed; for the sheep can always be
distinguished from the goats by their appearance.
O ye worldly men of the world! ye carnal
professors, ye who crowd our churches, and fill
our places of worship, this is God's truth! let me
say it solemnly. If I should say it as I ought, it
would be weeping tears of blood. Ye are, with all
your profession, "in the gall of bitterness;" with
all your boastings, ye are "in bonds of iniquity;"
for ye act as others and ye shall come where
others come; and it shall be done with you as with
more notorious heirs of hell. There is an old
story which was once told of a Dissenting
minister. The old custom was, that a minister
might stop at an inn, and not pay anything for his
bed or his board; and when he went to preach, from
place to place, he was charged nothing for the
conveyance in which he rode. But on one occasion,
a certain minister stopped at an inn and went to
bed. The landlord listened and heard no prayer; so
when he came down in the morning, he presented his
bill. "Oh! I am not going to pay that, for I am a
minister." "Ah!" said the landlord, "you went to
bed last night like a sinner, and you shall pay
this morning like a sinner; I will not let you
go." Now, it strikes me, that this will be the
case with some of you when you come to God's bar.
Though you pretended to be a Christian, you acted
like a sinner, and you shall fare like a sinner
too. Your actions were unrighteous; they were far
from God; and you shall have a portion with those
whose character was the same as yours. "Be not
deceived;" it is easy to be so. "God is not
mocked," though we often are, both minister and
people. "God is not mocked; whatsoever a man
soweth, that shall he also reap."
And now we want to apply this to many true
children of God who are here, by way of caution. I
say, my brother Christian, you are not of the
world. I am not going to speak hardly to you,
because you are my brother, and in speaking to you
I speak to myself also, for I am as guilty as thou
art. Brother, have we not often been too much like
the world? Do we not sometimes in our
conversation, talk too much like the world? Come,
let me ask myself, are there not too many idle
words that I say? Ay, that there are. And do I not
sometimes give occasion to the enemy to blaspheme,
because I am not so different from the world as I
ought to be? Come, brother; let us confess our
sins together. Have we not been too worldly? Ah!
we have. Oh! let this solemn thought cross our
minds: suppose that after all we should not be
his! for it is written, "Ye are not of the world."
O God! if we are not right, make us so; where we
are a little right, make us still more right; and
where we are wrong, amend us! Allow me to tell a
story to you; I told it when I was preaching last
Tuesday morning, but it is worth telling again.
There is a great evil in many of us being too
light and frothy in our conversation. A very
solemn thing once happened. A minister had been
preaching in a country village, very earnestly and
fervently. in the midst of his congregation there
was a young man who was deeply impressed with a
sense of sin under the sermon; he therefore sought
the minister as he went out, in hopes of walking
home with him. They walked till they came to a
friend's house. On the road the minister had
talked about anything except the subject on which
he had preached, though he had preached very
earnestly, and even with tears in his eyes. The
young man thought within himself, "Oh! I wish I
could unburden my heart and speak to him; but I
cannot. He does not say anything now about what he
spoke of in the pulpit." When they were at supper
that evening, the conversation was very far from
what it should be, and the minister indulged in
all kinds of jokes and light sayings. The young
man had gone into the house with eyes filled with
tears, feeling like a sinner should feel; but as
soon as he got outside, after the conversation, he
stamped his foot, and said, "It is a lie from
beginning to end. That man has preached like an
angel; and now he has talked like a devil." Some
years after the young man was taken ill, and sent
for this same minister. The minister did not know
him. "Do you remember preaching at such-and-such a
village?" asked the young man. "I do." "your text
was very deeply laid to my heart." "Thank God for
that," said the minister. "Do not be so quick
about thanking God," said the young man. "Do you
know what you talked of that evening afterwards,
when I went to supper with you. Sir, I shall be
damned! And I will charge you before God's throne
with being the author of my damnation. On that
night I did feel my sin; but you were the means of
scattering all my impressions." That is a solemn
thought, brother, and teaches us how we should
curb our tongues, especially those who are so
light hearted, after solemn services and earnest
preachings, that we should not betray levity. Oh!
let us take heed that we are not of the world,
even as Christ was not of the world.
And Christian, lastly, by way of practice, let me
comfort thee with this. Thou art not of the world
for thy home is in heaven. Be content to be here a
little, for thou art not of the world, and thou
shalt go up to thine own bright inheritance by-and-
bye. A man in travelling goes into an inn; it is
rather uncomfortable, "Well," says he, "I shall
not have to stay here many nights; I have only to
sleep here to-night, I shall be at home in the
morning, so that I don't care much about one
night's lodging being a little uncomfortable." So,
Christian, this world is never a very comfortable
one; but recollect, you are not of the world. This
world is like an inn; you are only lodging here a
little while. Put up with a little inconvenience,
because you are not of the world, even as Christ
is not of the world; and by-and-bye, up yonder,
you shall be gathered into your father's house,
and there you will find that there is a new heaven
and a new earth provided for those who are "not of
the world."
Provided by:
Tony Capoccia
Bible Bulletin Board
internet: hyperlink
Box 318
Columbus, NJ 08022