Online Resource Library
Commentary Index | Return to PrayerRequest.com | DownloadCharles Spurgeon Collection: Spurgeon - C.H. - Sermons from Luke: 46 LUK 18:42 Saving Faith
TOPIC: Spurgeon - C.H. - Sermons from Luke (Other Topics in this Collection)
SUBJECT: 46 LUK 18:42 Saving Faith
Other Subjects in this Topic:
Saving Faith
March 15, 1874
by
C. H. SPURGEON
"Thy faith hath saved thee."-- Luk_7:50; and Luk_18:42.
I do not remember that this expression is found anywhere else in the Word
of God. It is found in these two places in the Gospel by Luke, but not in
any other Gospel. Luke also gives us in two other places a kindred, and
almost identical expression, "Thy faith hath made thee whole." This you
will find used in reference to the woman whose issue of blood had been
staunched (Luk_8:48), and in connection with that one of the ten lepers
who returned to praise the Saviour for the cure he had received (Luk_17:19).
You will find the expression, "Thy faith hath made thee whole"
once in Matthew and twice in Mark, but you find it twice in Luke, and
together therewith the twice repeated words of our text, "Thy faith hath
saved thee." Are we wrong in supposing that the long intercourse of Luke
with the apostle Paul led him not only to receive the great doctrine of
justification by faith which Paul so plainly taught, and to attach to faith
that high importance which Paul always did, but also to have a peculiar
memory for those expressions which were used by the Saviour, in which
faith was manifestly honoured to a very high degree. Albeit Luke would
not have written anything which was not true for the sake of maintaining
the grand doctrine so clearly taught by the apostle, yet I think his full
conviction of it would help to recall to his memory more vividly those
words of the Lord Jesus from which it could be more clearly learned or
illustrated. Be that as it may, we know that Luke was inspired, and that he
has written neither more nor less than what the Saviour actually said, and
hence we may be quite sure that the expression, "Thy faith hath saved
thee," fell from the Redeemer's lips, and we are bound to accept it as pure
unquestionable truth, and we may repeat it ourselves without fear of
misleading others, or trenching upon any other truth. I mention this
because the other day I heard an earnest friend say that faith did not save
us, at which announcement I was rather surprised. The brother, it is true,
qualified the expression, and showed that he meant to make it clear that
Jesus saved us, and not our own act of faith. I agreed with what he meant,
but not with what he said, for he had no right to use an expression which
was in flat contradiction to the distinct declaration of the Saviour, "Thy
faith hath saved thee." We are not to strain any expression to make it mean
more than the speaker intended, and it is well to guard words from being
misunderstood; but on the other hand, we may not quite go so far as
absolutely to negative a declaration of the Lord himself, however we may
mean to qualify it. It is to be qualified if you like, but it is not to be
contradicted, for there it stands, "Thy faith hath saved thee." Now we shall
this morning, by God's help, inquire what was it that saved the two persons
whose history will come before us? It was their faith. Our second inquiry
will be what kind of faith was it which saved them? and then thirdly, what
does this teach us in reference to faith?
I. WHAT WAS IT THAT SAVED the two persons whose history we are about to
consider?
In the penitent woman's case, her great sins were forgiven her and she
became a woman of extraordinary love: she loved much, for she had much
forgiven. I feel, in thinking of her, something like an eminent father of the
church who said, "This narrative is not one which I can well preach upon;
I had far rather weep over it in secret." That woman's tears, that woman's
unbraided tresses wiping the Saviour's feet, her coming so near to her Lord
in such company, facing such proud cavillers, with such fond and resolute
intent of doing honour to Jesus; verily, among those that have loved the
Saviour, there hath not lived a greater than this woman who was a sinner.
Yet for all that Jesus did not say to her, "Thy love hath saved thee." Love is
a golden apple of the tree of which faith is the root, and the Saviour took
care not to ascribe to the fruit that which belongs only to the root. This
loving woman was also right notable for her repentance. Mark ye well
those tears. Those were no tears of sentimental emotion, but a rain of holy
heart-sorrow for sin. She had been a sinner and she knew it; she
remembered well her multitude of iniquities, and she felt each sin deserved
a tear, and there she stood weeping herself away, because she had offended
her dear Lord. Yet it is not said, "Thy repentance hath saved thee." Her
being saved caused her repentance, but repentance did not save her. Sorrow
for sin is an early token of grace within the heart, yet it is nowhere said,
"Thy sorrow for sin hath saved thee." She was a woman of great humility.
She came behind the Lord and washed his feet, as though she felt herself
only able to be a menial servant to perform works of drudgery, and to find
a pleasure in so serving her Lord. Her reverence for him had reached a
very high point; she regarded him as a king, and she did what has
sometimes been done for monarchs by zealous subjects--she kissed the feet
of her heart's Lord, who well deserved the homage. Her loyal reverence led
her to kiss the feet of her Lord, the Sovereign of her soul, but I do not find
that Jesus said, "Thy humility hath saved thee;" or that he said, "Thy
reverence hath saved thee;" but he put the crown upon the head of her
faith, and said expressly, "Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace."
In the case of the blind man to whom my second text refers--this man was
notable for his earnestness; he cried, and cried aloud, "Son of David, have
mercy on me." He was notable for his importunity, for they who would
have silenced him rebuked him in vain; he cried so much the more, "Son of
David, have mercy on me." But I do not discover that Christ attributed his
salvation to his prayers, earnest and importunate though they were. It is not
written, "Thy prayers have saved thee"; it is written, "Thy faith hath saved
thee." He was a man of considerable and clear knowledge, and he had a
distinct apprehension of the true character of Christ: he scorned to call him
Jesus of Nazareth, as the crowd did, but he proclaimed him "Son of
David," and in the presence of that throng he dared avow his full
conviction that the humble man, dressed in a peasant's garb, who was
threading his way through the throng, was none other than the royal heir of
the royal line of Judah, and was indeed the fulfiller of the type of David,
the expected Messiah, the King of the Jews, the Son of David. Yet I do not
find that Jesus attributed his salvation to his knowledge, to his clear
apprehension, or to his distinct avowal of his Messiahship; but he said to
him, "Thy faith hath saved thee," laying the entire stress of his salvation
upon his faith.
This being so in both cases, we are led to ask, what is the reason for it?
What is the reason why in every case, in every man that is saved, faith is
the great instrument of salvation? Is it not first because God has a right to
choose what way of salvation he pleases, and he has chosen that men
should be saved, not by their works, but by their faith in his dear Son? God
has a right to give his mercy to whom he pleases; he has a right to give it
when he pleases; he has a right to give it in what mode he pleases; and
know ye this, O sons of men, that the decree of heaven is immutable, and
standeth fast forever--"He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; he
that believeth not shall be damned." To this there shall be no exception;
Jehovah has made the rule and it shall stand. If thou wouldst have
salvation, "believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved"; but if
not, salvation is utterly impossible to thee. This is the appointed way;
follow it, and it leads to heaven; refuse it, and thou must perish. This is
God's sovereign determination, "He that believeth on him is not
condemned, but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he
hath not believed on the Son of God." Jehovah's will be done. If this be his
method of grace, let us not kick against it. If he determines that faith shall
save, so let it be; only, Good Master, create and increase our faith.
But while I attribute this to the sovereign choice of God, I do see, for
Scripture plainly indicates it, a reason in the nature of things why faith
should thus have been selected. The apostle tells us it is of faith that it
might be of grace. If the condition of salvation had been either feeling or
working, then, such is the depravity of our nature, that we should
inevitably have attributed the merit of salvation to the working or the
feeling. We should have claimed something whereof to glory. It matters not
how low the condition may have been, man would have still considered
that there was something required of him, that something came from him,
and that, therefore, he might take some credit to himself. But no man,
unless he be demented, ever claims credit for believing the truth. If he
hears that which convinces him, he is convinced; and if he be persuaded,
he is persuaded; but he feels that it could not well be otherwise. He
attributes the effect to the truth and the influence used. He does not go
about and boast because he believes what is so clear to him that he cannot
doubt it. If he did so boast of spiritual faith, all thinking men would say at
once, "Wherefore dost thou boast in the fact of having believed, and
especially when this believing would never have been thine if it had not
been for the force of the truth which convinced thee, and the working of
the Spirit of God which constrained thee to believe?" Faith is chosen by
Christ to wear the crown of salvation because--let me contradict myself--it
refuses to wear the crown. It was Christ that saved the penitent woman, it
was Christ that saved that blind beggar, but he takes the crown from off his
own head, so dear is faith to him, and he puts the diadem upon the head of
faith and says, "Thy faith hath saved thee," because he is absolutely certain
that faith will never take the glory to herself, but will again lay the crown
at the pierced feet, and say, "Not unto myself be glory, for thou hast done
it; thou art the Saviour, and thou alone." In order, then, to illustrate and
to protect the interests of sovereign grace, and to shut out all vain
glorying, God has been pleased to make the way of salvation to be by faith,
and by no other means.
Nor is this all. It is clear to every one who chooses to think that in order
to the renewal of the heart, which is the chief part of salvation, it is well
to begin with the faith; because faith once rightly exercised becomes the
mainspring of the entire nature. The man believes that he is forgiven.
What then? He feels gratitude to him who has pardoned him. Feeling
gratitude, it is but natural that he should hate that which displeases his
Saviour, and should love intensely that which is pleasing to him who saved
him, so that faith operates upon the entire nature, and becomes the
instrument in the hand of the regenerating Spirit by which all the faculties
of the soul are put into the right condition. As a man thinketh in his heart
so is he, but his thinkings come out of his believings; if he be put right in
his believings, then his understanding will operate upon his affections, and
all the other powers of his manhood, and old things will pass away, all
things will become new through the wonderful effect of the faith, which is
of the operation of God. Faith works by love, and through love it purifies
the soul, and the man becomes a new creature. See ye then the wisdom of
God? He may choose what way he will, but he chooses a way which at once
guards his grace from our felonious boastings, and on the other hand
produces in us a holiness which other wise never would have been there.
Faith in salvation, however, is not the meritorious cause; nor is it in any
sense the salvation itself. Faith saves us just as the mouth saves from
hunger. If we be hungry, bread is the real cure for hunger, but still it would
be right to say that eating removes hunger, seeing that the bread itself
could not benefit us, unless the mouth should eat it. Faith is the soul's
mouth, whereby the hunger of the heart is removed. Christ also is the
brazen serpent lifted up; all the healing virtue is in him; yet no healing
virtue comes out of the brazen serpent to any who will not look; so that the
looking is rightly considered to be the act which saves. True, in the deepest
sense it is Christ uplifted who saves, to him be all the glory; but without
looking to him ye cannot be saved, so that
"There is life in a look,"
as well as life in the Saviour to whom you look. Nothing is yours until you
appropriate it. If you be enriched, the thing appropriated enriches you; yet
it is not incorrect but strictly right to say it is the appropriation of the
blessing which makes you rich. Faith is the hand of the soul. Stretched out,
it lays hold of the salvation of Christ, and so by faith we are saved. "Thy
faith hath saved thee." I need not dwell longer on that point. It is self-
evident from the text that faith is the great means of salvation.
II. WHAT KIND OF FAITH WAS IT that saved these people? I will mention, first,
the essential agreements; and then, secondly, the differentia, or the points
in which this faith differed in its external manifestations in the two cases.
In the instances of the penitent woman and the blind beggar, their faith
was fixed alone in Jesus. You cannot discover anything floating in their
faith in Jesus which adulterated it; it was unmixed faith in him. the woman
pressed forward to him, her tears fell on him; her ointment was for him;
her unloosed tresses were a towel for his; feet she cared for no one else, not
even for the disciples whom she respected for his sake; her whole spirit and
soul were absorbed in him. He could save her; he could blot out her sins.
She believed him; she did it unto him. The same was the case with that
blind man. He had no thought of any ceremonies to be performed by
priests; he had no idea of any medicine which might be given him by
physicians. His cry was, "Son of David, Son of David." The only notice he
took of others was to disregard them, and still to cry, "Son of David, Son of
David." "What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?" was the Lord's
question, and it answered to the desire of his soul, for he knew that if
anything were done it must be done by the Son of David. It is essential that
our faith must rest alone on Jesus. Mix anything with Christ, and you are
undone. If your faith shall stand with one foot upon the rock of his merits,
and the other foot upon the sand of your own duties, it will fall, and great
will be the fall thereof. Build wholly on the rock, for if so much as a corner
of the edifice shall rest on anything beside, it will ensure the ruin of the
whole:--
"None but Jesus, none but Jesus
Can do helpless sinners good."
All true faith is alike in this respect.
The faith of these two was alike in its confession of unworthiness. What
meant her standing behind? What meant her tears, her everflowing tears,
but that she felt unworthy to draw near to Jesus? And what meant the
beggar's cry, "Have mercy on me?" Note the stress he lays upon it. "Have
mercy on me." He does not claim the cure by merit, nor ask it as a reward.
To mercy he appealed. Now I care not whose faith it is, whether it be that
of David in his bitter cries of the fifty-first Psalm, or whether it be that
of Paul in his highest exaltation upon being without condemnation through
Christ, there is always in connection with true faith a thorough and deep
sense that it is mercy, mercy alone, which saves us from the wrath to come.
Dear hearer, do not deceive yourself. Faith and boasting are as opposite to
one another as the two poles. If you come before Christ with your
righteousness in your hand, you come without faith; but if you come with
faith you must also come with confession of sin, for true faith always walks
hand in hand with a deep sense of guiltiness before the Most High. This is
so in every case.
Their faith was alike, moreover, in defying and conquering opposition.
Little do we know the inward struggles of the penitent as she crossed the
threshold of Simon's house. "He will repel thee," the stern, cold Pharisee
will say, "Get thee gone, thou strumpet; how darest thou defile the doors of
honest men." But whatever may happen she passes through the door, she
comes to where the feet of the Saviour are stretched out towards the
entrance as he is reclining at the table, and there she stands. Simon
glanced at her: he thought the glance would wither her, but her love to
Christ was too well rooted to be withered by him. No doubt he made many
signs of his displeasure, and showed that he was horrified at such a
creature being anywhere near him, but she took no notice of him. Her Lord
was there, and she felt safe. Timid as a dove, she trembled not while he
was near; but she returned no defiant glances for Simon's haughty looks;
her eyes were occupied with weeping. She did not turn aside to demand an
explanation of his unkind motions, for her lips were all engrossed with
kissing those dear feet. Her Lord, her Lord, was all to her. She overcame
through faith in him, and held her ground, and did not leave the house till
he dismissed her with "Go in peace."
It was the same with the blind man. He said, "Son of David, have mercy on
me." They cried, "Hush! Why these clamours, blind beggar? His eloquence
is music; do not interrupt him. Never man spake as he is speaking. Every
tone rings like the harps of the angels. Hush! How darest thou spoil his
discourse?" But over and above them all went up the importunate prayer,
"Son of David, have mercy upon me," and he prevailed. All true faith is
opposed. If thy faith be never tried it is not born of the race of the church
militant. "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith,"
but it is indicated in that very declaration that there must be something to
overcome, and that faith must wage war for its existence.
Once more, the faith of these two persons was alike in being openly
avowed. I will not say that the avowal took the same form in both, for it did
not; but still it was equally open. There is the Saviour, and there comes the
weeping penitent. She loves him. Is she ashamed to say so? It may bring
her reproach; it will certainly rake up the old reproaches against her, for
she has been a sinner. Never mind what she has been, nor who may be
present to see her. She loves her Lord, and she will show it. She will bring
the ointment and she will anoint his feet, even in the presence of Pharisees,
Pharisees who would say, "Is this one of the disciples of Christ? A pretty
convert to boast of! A fine conquest this, for his kingdom! A harlot
becomes a disciple! What next and what next?" She must have known and
felt all that, but still there was no concealment. She loved her Lord, and
she would avow it, and so in the very house of the Pharisee, there being no
other opportunity so convenient, she comes forward, and without words,
but with actions far more eloquent than words, she says, "I love him. These
tears shall show it; this ointment shall diffuse the knowledge of it, as its
sweet perfume fills the room; and every lock of my hair shall be a witness
that I am my Lord's and he is mine." She avowed her faith.
And so did the blind man. He did not sit there and say, "I know he is the
Son of David, but I must not say it." They said, some of them
contemptuously, and others indifferently, "It is Jesus of Nazareth." But he
will not have it so. "Thou Son of David," saith he; and loud above their
noise I hear him cry, like a herald proclaiming the King, "Son of David."
Why, sirs, it seems to me he was exalted to a high office: he became the
herald of the King, and proclaimed him, and this belongs to a high officer
of State in our country. The blind beggar showed great decision and
courage. He cried in effect, "Son of David thou art; Son of David I
proclaim thee; Son of David thou shalt be proclaimed, whoever may
gainsay it; only turn thine eyes and have mercy upon me." Are there any of
you here who have a faith in Christ which you are ashamed of? I also am
ashamed of you, and so also will Christ be ashamed of you when he cometh
in the glory of his Father and all his holy angels with him. Ashamed to
claim that you are honest? Then methinks you must live in bad company,
where to be a rogue is to be famous; and if you are ashamed to say, "I love
my Lord," methinks you are courting the friendship of Christ's enemies,
and what can you be but an enemy yourself: If you love him, say it. Put on
your Master's regimentals, enlist in his army, and come forward and
declare, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Their faith was
alike then in these four particulars, it was fixed alone on him, it was
accompanied with a sense of unworthiness, it struggled and conquered
opposition, and it openly declared itself before all comers.
By your patience I shall now try to show the differences between the same
faith as to its manifestations. First, the woman's faith acted like a woman's
faith. She showed tender love, and the affections are the glory and the
strength of women. They were certainly such in her. Her love was intense,
womanly love, and she poured it out upon the Saviour. The man's faith
acted like a man's in its determination and strength. He persisted in crying,
"Thou Son of David." There was as much that was masculine about his
faith as there was of the feminine in the penitent's faith, and everything
should be in its order and after its season. It would not have been meet for
the woman's voice to be heard so boldly above the crowd; it would have
seemed out of place for a man's tears to have been falling upon the
Saviour's feet. Either one or the other might have been justifiable, but they
would not have been equally suitable. But now they are as suitable as they
are excellent. The woman acts as a godly woman should. The man like a
godly man. Never let us measure ourselves by other people. Do not, my
brother, say, "I could not shed tears." Who asked thee to do so? A man's
tears are mostly within, and so let them be: it is ours to use other modes of
showing our love. And, my sister, do not say, "I could not act as a herald
and publicly proclaim the King." I doubt not thou couldest do so if there
were need, but thy tears in secret, and those wordless tokens of love to
Jesus which thou are rendering, are not less acceptable because they are not
the same as a man would give. Nay, they are the better because they are
more suitable to thee. Do not think that all the flowers of God's garden
must bloom in the same colour or shed the same perfume.
Notice next that the woman acted like a woman who had been a sinner.
What more meet than tears? What more fitting place for her than at the
Saviour's feet? She had been a sinner, she acts like a sinner; but the man
who had been a beggar acted like a beggar. What does a beggar do but
clamour for alms? Did he not beg gloriously? Never one plied the trade
more earnestly than he. "Son of David," said he, "have mercy on me." I
should not have liked to have seen the beggar sitting there weeping; nor to
have heard the penitent woman shouting. Neither would have been natural
or seemly. Faith works according to the condition, circumstances, sex, or
ability of the person in whom it lives, and it best shows itself in its own
form, not in an artificial manner, but in the natural outflow of the heart.
Observe, also, that the woman did not speak. There is something very
beautiful in the golden silence of the woman, which was richer than her
silver speech would have been. But the man was not silent; he spoke; he
spoke out, and his words were excellent. I venture to say that the woman's
silence spoke as powerfully as the man's voice. Of the two I think I find
more eloquence in the tears bedewing, and unbraided hair wiping the
Saviour's feet, than in the cry, "Son of David, have mercy on me." Yet both
forms of expression were equally good, the silence best in the woman with
her tears, and the speech best in the man with his confident trust in Christ.
Do not think it necessary, dear friend, in order to serve, to do other
people's work. What thine own hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. If you
think you can never honour Christ till you enter a pulpit, it may be just
possible that you will afterwards honour him best by getting out of it as
quickly as you can. There have been persons well qualified to adorn the
religion of Christ with a lapstone on their lap who have thought it
necessary to mount a pulpit, and in that position have been a hindrance to
Christ and his gospel. Sister, there is a sphere for you; keep to it, let none
push you out of it; but do not think there is nothing else to do except the
work which some other woman does. God has called her, let her follow
God's voice; he calls you in another direction, follow his voice thither. You
will be most like that other excellent woman when you are most different
from her: I mean, you will be most truly obedient to Christ, as she is, if you
pursue quite another path.
There was a difference, again, in this. The woman gave--she brought her
ointment. The man did the opposite--he begged. There are various ways of
showing love to Christ, which are equally excellent tokens of faith. To give
him of her ointment, and give him of her tears, and give him the
accommodation of her hair, was well; it showed her faith, which worked by
love: to give nothing, for the beggar had nothing to give, but simply to
honour Christ by appealing to his bounty and his royal power, was best in
the beggar. I can commend neither above the other, for I doubt not that
both the penitent and the beggar gave Christ their whole heart, and what
more does Jesus ask for from any one?
The thoughts of the woman and the thoughts of the beggar were different
too. Her thoughts were mainly about the past, and her sins--hence her
tears. To be forgiven, that was her point. His thoughts were mainly about
the present, and did not so much concern his sin as his deficiency,
infirmity, and inability, and so he came with different thoughts. I do not
doubt that he thought of sin, as I dare say she also thought of infirmity; but
in her case the thought of sin was uppermost, and hence the tears; in his
the infirmity was uppermost, and hence the prayer, "Lord, that I might
receive my sight." Do not, then, compare your experience with that of
another. God is a God of wonderful variety. The painter who repeats
himself in many pictures has a paucity of conception, but the master artist
scarcely ever sketches the same thing a second time. There is a boundless
variety in genius, and God who transcends all the genius of men, creates an
infinite variety in the works of his grace. Look not, therefore, for likeness
everywhere. The woman, it is said, loved much, and she proved her love by
her acts; but the man loved much too, and showed his love by actions
which were most admirable, for he followed Jesus in the way, glorifying
God. Yet they were different actions. I do not find that he brought any box
of ointment, or anointed Christ's feet, neither do I find that she literally
followed Christ in the way, though no doubt she followed him in the spirit;
neither did she with a loud voice glorify God as the restored blind beggar
did. There are differences of operation, but the same Lord; there are
differences of capacity and differences of calling, and by this reflection I
hope you will be enabled to deliver yourselves from the fault of judging one
by another, and that you will look for the same faith, but not for the same
development of it.
So interesting is this subject that I want you to follow me while I very
rapidly sketch the woman's case, and then the man's, not mentioning the
differences one by one, but allowing the two pictures to impress themselves
separately upon your minds.
Observe this woman. What a strange compound she was. She was
consciously unworthy, and therefore she wept, yet she drew very near to
Jesus. Her acts were those of nearness and communion; she washed his feet
with her tears, she wiped them with the hairs of her head, and meanwhile
she kissed them again and again. "She hath not ceased," said Christ, "to
kiss my feet." A sense of unworthiness, and the enjoyment of communion,
were mixed together. Oh, divine faith which blends the two! She was
shamefaced, yet was she very bold. She dared not look the Master in the
face as yet; she approached him from behind; yet she dared face Simon,
and remain in his room, whether he frowned or no. I have known some
who have blushed in the face of Christ who would not have blushed before
a judge, nor at the stake, if they had been dragged there for Christ's sake.
Such a woman was Anne Askew, humble before her Master, but like a lioness
before the foes of God.
The penitent woman wept, she was a mourner, yet she had a deep joy; I
know she had, for every kiss meant joy. Every time she lifted that blessed
foot, and kissed it, her heart leaped with the transport of love. Her heart
knew bitterness for sin, but it knew also the sweetness of pardon. What a
mixture! Faith made the compound. She was humble, never one more so;
yet see how she takes upon herself to deal with the King himself. Brethren,
you and I are satisfied, and well we may be, if we may wash the saints' feet,
but she was not. Oh, the courage of this woman! She will pass through the
outer court, and get right to the King's own throne, and there pay her
homage, in her own person, to his person, and wash the feet of the
wonderful, the Counsellor, the mighty God. I know not that an angel ever
performed such suit and service, and therefore this woman takes
preeminence as having done for Jesus what no other being ever did. I have
said that she was silent, and yet she spake; I will add, she was despised, but
Christ set her high in honour, and made Simon, who despised her, to feel
little in her presence. I will also add she was a great sinner, but she was a
great saint. Her great sinnership, when pardoned, became the raw stuff out
of which great saints are made by the mighty power of God. Finally she
was saved by faith, so says the text, but if ever there was a case in which
James could not have said, "Shall faith save thee?" and in which he must
have said, "Here is one that shows her faith by her works," it was the case
of this woman. There she is before you. Imitate her faith itself, though you
cannot actually copy her deeds.
Now look at the man. He was blind, but he could see a great deal more
than the Pharisees, who said they could see. Blind, but his inward optics
saw the king in his beauty, saw the splendour of his throne, and he
confessed it. He was a beggar, but he had a royal soul, and a strong
sovereign determination which was not to be put down. He had the kind of
mind which dwells in men who are princes among their fellows. He is not
to be stopped by disciples, nay, nor by apostles. He has begun to pray, and
pray he will till he obtains the boon he seeks. Note well that what he knew
he avowed, what he desired he pleaded for, and what he needed he
understood. "Lord, that I might receive my sight;" he was clear about his
needs, and clear about the only person who could supply them. What he
asked for he expected, for when he was bidden to come he evidently
expected that his sight would be restored, for we are told by another
Evangelist that he cast away his beggar's cloak. He felt he should never
want to beg again. He was sure his eyes were about to be opened. Lastly,
what he received he was grateful for, for as soon as he could walk without
a guide he took Christ to be his guide, and followed him in the way,
glorifying him. Look on both pictures. May you have the shadows and the
lights of both, as far as they would tend to make you also another and
distinct picture by the selfsame artist, whose hand alone can produce such
wonders.
III. WHAT DOES THIS TEACH US IN REFERENCE TO FAITH?
It teaches us first that faith is all important. Do, I pray you, my hearers,
see whether you have the precious faith, the faith of God's elect. Remember
there are not many things in Scripture called precious, but there is the
precious blood, and there goes with it the precious faith. If you have not
that you are lost; if you have not that you are neither fit to live nor fit to
die; if you have not that, your eternal destiny will be infinite despair; but
if you have faith, though it be as a grain of mustard seed, you are saved.
"Thy faith hath saved thee."
Learn next that the main matter in faith is the person whom you believe. I
do not say in whom you believe. That would be true, but not quite so
scriptural an expression. Paul does not say, as I hear most people quote it,
"I know in whom I have believed." Faith believes Christ. Your faith must
recognise him as a person, and come to him as a person, and rest not in his
teaching merely, or his work only, but in him. "Come unto me, all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." A personal Saviour
for sinners! Are you resting on him alone? Do you believe him? You know
the safety of the building depends mainly upon the foundation, and if the
foundation be not right, you may build as you will, it will not last. Do you
build, then, on Christ alone? Inquire about that as a special point.
Observe next, that we must not expect exactly the same manifestation in
each convert. Let not the elders of the church expect it, let not parents
require it from their children; let not anxious friends look for it; do not
expect it in yourself. Biographies are very useful, but they may become a
snare. I must not judge that I am not a child of God because I am not
precisely like that good man whose life I have just been reading. Am I
resting in Christ? Do I believe him? Then it may be the Lord's grace is
striking out quite a different path for me from that which has been trodden
by my brother, that it may illustrate other phases of its power, and show to
principalities and powers the exceeding riches of divine love.
And, lastly, the matter which sums up all is this, if we have faith in Jesus
we are saved, and ought not to talk or act as if there were any question
about it. "THY FAITH HATH SAVED THEE." Jesus says it. Granted, you
have faith in Christ, and it is certain that faith hath saved you. Do not,
therefore, go on talking and acting and feeling as if you were not saved. I
know a company of saved people who say every Sabbath, "Lord, have
mercy upon us, miserable sinners"; but they are not miserable sinners if
they are saved, and for them to use such words is to throw a slight upon the
salvation which Christ has given them. If they are saved sinners they ought
to be rejoicing saints. What some say others do not say, but they act as if it
were so. They go about asking God to give them the mercy they have
already obtained, hoping one day to receive what Christ assures them is
already in their possession, talking to others as if it were a matter of
question whether they were saved or not, when it cannot be a matter of
question. "Thy faith hath saved thee." Fancy the poor penitent woman
turning round and saying to the Saviour, "Lord, I humbly hope that it is
true." There would have been neither humility nor faith in such an
expression. Imagine that blind man, when Christ said, "Thy faith hath
saved thee," saying "I trust that in future years it will be found to be so."
It would be a belying at once of his own earnest character and of Christ's
honesty of speech. If thou hast believed, thou art saved. Do not talk as if
thou wert not, but now down from the willows take thy harp, and sing unto
the Lord a new song. I have noticed in many prayers a tendency to avoid
speaking as if facts were facts. I have heard this kind of expression, "The
Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we desire to be glad." The text
is, "The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad;" and if
the Lord has done these great things for us our right is to be glad about
them, not to go with an infamous "if" upon our lips before the Lord who
cannot lie. If ye are dealing with your fellow creatures, suspect them, for
they mostly deserve it; if ye are listening to their promises, doubt them, for
their promises go to be broken; but if ye are dealing with your Lord and
Master, never suspect him, for he is beyond suspicion; never doubt his
promises, for heaven and earth and hell shall pass away, but not one jot or
tittle of his word shall fail. I claim for Christ that ye cast away forever
all the talk which is made up of "buts," and "ifs," and "peradventures," and
"I hope," and "I trust." You are in the presence of One who said, "Verily,
verily," and meant what he said, who is "the Amen, the faithful and true
witness."
You would not spit in his face if he were here, yet your "ifs" and "buts" are
so much insult cast upon his truth. You would not scourge him, but what
do your doubts do but vex him and put him to shame? If he lies, never
believe him; if he speaks the truth, never doubt him. Then shall ye know
when ye have cast aside your wicked unbelief, that your faith has saved
you, and ye will go in peace.
Provided by:
Bible Bulletin Board
internet: hyperlink
modem: 609-324-9187
Box 318
Columbus, NJ 08022
....online since 1986