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SUBJECT: 24 PRO 18:24 A Faithful Friend
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A Faithful Friend
March 8, 1857
by
C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892)
"There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."- Pro_18:24.
Cicero has well said, "Friendship is the only thing in the world concerning
the usefulness of which all mankind are agreed." Friendship seems as
necessary an element of a comfortable existence in this world as fire or
water, or even air itself. A man may drag along a miserable existence in
proud solitary dignity, but his life is scarce life, it is nothing but an
existence, the tree of life being stripped of the leaves of hope and the
fruits of joy. He who would be happy here must have friends; and he who would
be happy hereafter, must, above all things, find a friend in the world to
come, in the person of God, the Father of his people.
Friendship, however, though very pleasing and exceedingly blessed, has been
the cause of the greatest misery to men when it has been unworthy and
unfaithful; for just in proportion as a good friend is sweet, a false friend
is full of bitterness. "A faithless friend is sharper than an adder's tooth."
It is sweet to repose in some one; but O! how bitter to have that support
snapped, and to receive a grievous fall as the effect of your confidence.
Fidelity is an absolute necessary in a true friend; we can not rejoice in men
unless they will stand faithful to us. Solomon declares that "there is a
friend that sticketh closer than a brother." That friend, I suppose, he never
found in the pomps and vanities of the world. He had tried them all, but he
found them empty; he passed through all their joys, but he found them "vanity
of vanities." Poor Savage spoke from sad experience when he said-
"You'll find the friendship of the world a show!
Mere outward show! 'Tis like the harlot's tears,
The statesman's promise, or false patriot's zeal,
Full of fair seeming, but delusion all."
And so for the most part they are. The world's friendship is ever brittle.
Trust to it, and you have trusted a robber; rely upon it, and you have leaned
upon a thorn; ay, worse than that, upon a spear which shall pierce you to the
soul with agony. Yet Solomon says he had found "a friend that sticketh closer
than a brother." Not in the haunts of his unbridled pleasures, nor in the
wanderings of his unlimited resources, but in the pavilion of the Most High,
the secret dwelling-place of God, in the person of Jesus, the Son of God, the
Friend of sinners.
It is saying a great thing to affirm that "there is a friend that sticketh
closer than a brother;" for the love of brotherhood has produced most valiant
deeds. We have read stories of what brotherhood could do, which, we think,
could hardly be excelled in the annals of friendship. Timoleon, with his
shield, stood over the body of his slain brother, to defend him from the
insults of the foe. It was reckoned a brave deed of brotherhood that he
should dare the spears of an army in defense of his brother's corpse. And
many such instances have there been, in ancient and modern warfare, of the
attachment of brethren. There is a story told of a Highland regiment, who,
while marching through the Highlands, lost their way; they were overtaken by
one of the terrible storms which will sometimes come upon travelers unawares,
and blinded by the snow, they lost their way upon the mountains. Well nigh
frozen to death, it was with difficulty they could continue their march. One
man after another dropped into the snow and disappeared. There were two
brothers, however, of the name of Forsythe; one of them fell prostrate on the
earth, and would have lain there to die, but his brother, though barely able
to drag his own limbs across the white desert, took him on his back, and
carried him along, and as others fell one by one, this brave, true-hearted
brother carried his loved one on his back, until at last he himself fell down
overcome with fatigue, and died. His brother, however, had received such
warmth from his body that he was enabled to reach the end of his journey in
safety, and so lived. Here we have an instance of one brother sacrificing his
life for another. I hope there are some brothers here who would be prepared
to do the same if they should ever be brought into the same difficulty. It is
saying a great thing, to declare that "there is a friend that sticketh closer
than a brother." It is putting that friend first of all in the list of loving
ones; for, surely, next to a mother's love, there is, and there ought to be,
no higher affection in the world than the love of a brother to one begotten
of the same father, and dandled on the same knee. Those who have "grown in
beauty side by side, and filled one house with glee," ought to love one
another. And we think there have been many glorious instances and mighty
proofs of the love of brethren. Yet, says Solomon, "there is a friend that
sticketh closer than a brother."
To repeat our assertion, we believe that this friend is the blessed Redeemer,
Jesus Christ. It shall be ours, first, to prove, this morning, the fact that
he sticks closer than a brother; then, as briefly as we can, to show you why
he sticks closer than a brother; and then to finish up by giving you some
lessons which may be drawn from the doctrine, that Jesus Christ is a faithful
Friend.
I. First, then, beloved, we assert that CHRIST IS "A FRIEND THAT STICKETH
CLOSER THAN A BROTHER." And in order to prove this from facts, we appeal to
such of you as have had him for a friend. Will you not, each of you, at once
give your verdict, that this is neither more nor less than an unexaggerated
truth? He loved you before all worlds; long ere the day star flung his ray
across the darkness, before the wing of angel had flapped the unnavigated
ether, before aught of creation had struggled from the womb of nothingness,
God, even our God, had set his heart upon all his children. Since that time,
has he once swerved, has he once turned aside, once changed? No; ye who have
tasted of his love and know his grace, will bear me witness, that he has been
a certain friend in uncertain circumstances.
"He, near your side hath always stood.
His loving-kindness. O! how good."
You fell in Adam; did he cease to love you? No; he became the second Adam to
redeem you. You sinned in practice, and brought upon your head the
condemnation of God; you deserved his wrath and his utter anger; did he then
forsake you? No!
"He saw you ruined in the fall,
Yet loved you notwithstanding all."
He sent his minister after you; you despised him; he preached the gospel in
your ears; you laughed at him; you broke God's Sabbath, you despised his
Word. Did he then forsake you? No!
"Determined to save, he watched o'er your path,
Whilst, Satan's blind slave, you sported with death."
And at last he arrested you by his grace, he humbled you, he made you
penitent, he brought you to his feet, and he forgave you all your sins. Since
then, has he left you? You have often left him; has he ever left you? You
have had many trials and troubles; has he ever deserted you? Has he ever
turned away his heart, and shut up his bowels of compassion? No, children of
God, it is your solemn duty to say "No," and bear witness to his
faithfulness. You have been in severe afflictions and in dangerous
circumstances; did your friend desert you then? Others have been faithless to
you; he that eat bread with you has lifted up his heel against you; but has
Christ ever forsaken you? Has there ever been a moment when you could go to
him, and say, "Master, thou hast betrayed me?" Could you once, in the
blackest hour of your grief, dare to impugn his fidelity? Could you dare to
say of him, "Lord, thou hast promised what thou didst not perform?" Will you
not bear witness now, "Not one good thing hath failed of all that the Lord
God hath promised; all hath come to pass?" And do you fear he will yet
forsake you? Ask, then, the bright ones before the throne-"Ye glorified
spirits! did Christ forsake you? Ye have passed through Jordan's stream; did
he leave you there? Ye have been baptized in the black flood of death; did he
there forsake you? Ye have stood before the throne of God; did he then deny
you?" And they answered, "No; through all the troubles of our life, in all
the bitterness of death, in all the agonies of our expiring moments, and in
all the terrors of God's judgment, he hath been with us, 'a friend that
sticketh closer than a brother.'" Out of all the millions of God's redeemed,
there is not one he hath forsaken. Poor they have been, mean and distressed,
but he hath never abhorred their prayer, never turned aside from doing them
good. He hath been ever with them.
"For his mercy shall endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure."
But I shall not longer stay, since I can not prove this to the ungodly, and
to the godly it is already proven, for they know it by experience; therefore
it is but little necessary that I should do more than just certify the fact
that Christ is a faithful friend-a friend in every hour of need and every
time of distress.
II. And now I have to tell you THE REASONS WHY WE MAY DEPEND UPON CHRIST AS
BEING A FAITHFUL FRIEND.
There are some things in himself which render it certain that he will stick
close to his people.
1. True friendship can only be made between true men. Hearts are the soul of
honor. There can be no lasting friendship between bad men. Bad men may
pretend to love each other, but their friendship is a rope of sand, which
shall be broken at any convenient season; but if a man have a sincere heart
within him, and be true and noble, then we may confide in him. Spenser sings
in fine old English verse-
"No, certes can that friendship long endure,
However gay and goodly be the style,
That doth ill cause or evil end enure,
For Vertue is the band that bindeth Harts most sure."
But who can find a stain in the character of Jesus, or who can tarnish his
honor? Has there ever been a spot on his escutcheon? Has his flag ever been
trampled in the dust? Does he not stand the true witness in heaven, the
faithful and just? Is it not declared of him that he is God who can not lie?
Have we not found him so up to this moment; and may we not, knowing that he
is "Holy, holy, holy Lord," confide in him, that he will stick closer to us
than a brother? His goodness is the guaranty of his fidelity; he can not fail
us.
2. Faithfulness to us in our faults is a certain sign of fidelity in a
friend. You may depend upon that man who will tell you of your faults in a
kind and considerate manner. Fawning hypocrites, insidious flatterers, are
the sweepings and offal of friendship. They are but the parasites upon that
noble tree. But true friends put enough trust in you to tell you openly of
your faults. Give me for a friend the man who will speak honestly of me
before my face; who will not tell first one neighbor, and then another, but
who will come straight to my house, and say, "Sir, I feel there is such-and-
such a thing in you, which, as my brother, I must tell you of." That man is a
true friend; he has proved himself to be so; for we never get any praise for
telling people of their faults; we rather hazard their dislike; a man will
sometimes thank you for it, but he does not often like you any the better.
Praise is a thing we all love. I met with a man the other day who said he was
impervious to flattery; I was walking with him at the time, and turning round
rather sharply, I said, "At any rate, sir, you seem to have a high gift in
flattering yourself, for you are really doing so, in saying you are
impervious to flattery." "You can not flatter me," he said. I replied, "I
can, if I like to try; and perhaps may do so before the day is out." I found
I could not flatter him directly, so I began by saying what a fine child that
was of his; and he drank it in as a precious draught; and when I praised this
thing and that thing belonging to him, I could see that he was very easily
flattered; not directly, but indirectly. We are all pervious to flattery; we
like the soothing cordial, only it must not be labeled flattery; for we have
a religious abhorrence of flattery if it be so called; call it by any other
name, and we drink it in, even as the ox drinketh in water. Now, child of
God, has Christ every flattered you? Has he not told you of your faults right
truly? Has he not pricked your conscience even upon what you thought to gloss
over-your little secret sins? Has he not provoked conscience to thunder in
your ears notes of terror, because of your misdeeds? Well, then, you may
trust him, for he shows that faithfulness which renders a man right
trustworthy. Thus I have pointed out to you that there are reasons in himself
for which we may trust him.
3. In the next place, there are some things in his friendship which render us
sure of not being deceived, when we put our confidence in him. True
friendship must not be of hasty growth. As quaint old Master Fuller says:
"Let friendship creep gently to a height; if it rush to it, it may soon run
itself out of breath." It is even so. I think it was Joanna Baillie said-
"Friendship is no plant of hasty growth.
Though planted in esteem's deep fixed soil,
The gradual culture of kind intercourse
Must bring it to perfection."
In vain thou trustest the gourd over thy head, O Jonah; it will not be of
much use to thee; it came up in a night, it may wither in a night. It is the
strong stiff oak, of ages' growth, which shall abide the tempest; which shall
alike put out its wings to shield thee from the sun, and shall afterward find
thee a hovel in its heart, if necessary, in its gray old age, when its
branches tremble in the blast. Friendship is true when it begins; but we must
have a man's friendship long before we can say of him, that he will stick
closer than a brother. And how long has Christ loved you? That you can not
tell. When the ages were not born he loved you; when this world was an
infant, wrapped in the swaddling clothes of mist, he loved you; when the old
pyramids had not begun to be builded, his heart was set upon you; and ever
since you have been born he has had a strong affection for you. He looked on
you in your cradle, and he loved you then; he was affianced to you when you
were an infant of a span long, and he has loved you ever since. Some of you I
see with gray hairs, some with heads all bald with age; he has loved you up
till now, and will he now forsake you? O! no, his friendship is so old that
it must last; it has been matured by so many tempests, it has been rooted by
so many winds of trouble, that it can not but endure; it must stand. Even as
the granite peak of the mountain shall not be melted, because, unlike the
snow, it has braved the blast, and borne the heat of the burning sun; it has
stood out always, catching in its face every blow from the face of nature,
and yet been unmoved and uninjured. It shall last, for it has lasted. But
when the elements shall melt, and in a stream of dissolving fire shall run
away, then shall Christ's friendship still exist, for it is of older growth
than they. He must be "a friend that sticketh closer than a brother;" for his
friendship is a hoary friendship-hoary as his own head, of which it is said,
"His head and his hair are white like snow, as white as wool."
4. But note, further, the friendship which lasts does not take it rise in the
chambers of mirth, nor is it fed and fattened there. Young lady, you speak of
a dear friend whom you acquired last night in a ball-room. Do not, I beseech
you, misuse the word; he is not a friend if he was acquired merely there;
friends are better things than those which grow in the hot-house of pleasure.
Friendship is a more lasting plant than those. You have a friend, have you?
Yes; and he keeps a pair of horses, and has a good establishment. Ah! but
your best way to prove your friend is to know that he will be your friend
when you have not so much as a mean cottage, and when, houseless and without
clothing, you are driven to beg your bread. Thus you would make true proof of
a friend. Give me a friend who was born in the winter time, whose cradle was
rocked in the storm; he will last. Our fair weather friends shall flee away
from us. I had rather have a robin for a friend than a swallow; for a swallow
abides with us only in the summer time, but a robin cometh to us in the
winter. Those are tight friends that will come the nearest to us when we are
in the most distress; but those are not friends who speed themselves away
when ill times come. Believer, hast thou reason to fear that Christ will
leave you now? Has he not been with you in the house of mourning? You found
your friend where men find pearls, "in caverns deep, where darkness dwells;"
you found Jesus in your hour of trouble. It was on the bed of sickness that
you first learned the value of his name; it was in the hour of mental anguish
that you first did lay hold of the hem of his garment; and since then, your
nearest and sweetest intercourse has been held with him in the hours of
darkness. Well, then, such a friend, proved in the house of sorrow-a friend
who gave his heart's blood for you, and let his soul run out in one great
river of gore-such a friend never can and never will forsake you; he sticketh
closer than a brother.
5. Again, a friend who is acquired by folly is never a lasting friend. Do a
foolish thing, and make a man your friend; 'tis but a confederacy in vice,
and you will soon discover that his friendship is worthless; the friendship
you acquire by doing wrong, you had better be without. O! how many silly
friendships there are springing up, the mere fruit of a sentimentalism,
having no root whatever, but like the plant of which our Saviour tells us,
"It sprang up because it had no depth of earth." Jesus Christ's friendship is
not like that; there is no ingredient of folly in it; he loves us discreetly,
not winking or conniving at our follies, but instilling into us his wisdom.
His love is wise; he hath chosen us according to the counsel of his wisdom;
not blindly and rashly, but with all judgment and prudence.
Under this head I may like wise observe, that the friendship of ignorance is
not a very desirable one. I desire no man to call himself my friend, if he
doth not know me. Let him love me in proportion to his knowledge of me. If he
loves me for the little he knows, when he knoweth more he may cast me aside.
"That man," says one, "seems to be a very amiable man." "I am sure I can love
him," says another, as he scans his features. Ay, but do not write "friend"
yet; wait a wee bit, until you know more of him; just see him, examine him,
try him, test him, and not till then enter him on the sacred list of friends.
Be friendly to all, but make none your friends until they know you, and you
know them. Many a friendship born in the darkness of ignorance, hath died
suddenly in the light of a better acquaintance with each other. You supposed
men to be different from what they were, and when you discovered their real
character you disregarded them. I remember one saying to me, "I have great
affection for you, sir," and he mentioned a certain reason. I replied, "My
dear fellow, your reason is absolutely false; the very thing you love me for,
I am not, and hope I never shall be." And so I said, "I really can not accept
your friendship, if it be founded upon a misunderstanding of what I may have
said." But our Lord Jesus never can forsake those whom once he loves, because
he can discover nothing in us worse than he knew, for he knew all about us
beforehand. He saw our leprosy, and yet he loved us; he knew our
deceitfulness and unbelief, and yet he did press us to his bosom; he knew
what poor fools we were, and yet he said he would never leave us nor forsake
us. He knew that we should rebel against him and despise his counsel often
times; he knew that even when we loved him our love would be cold and
languid, but he loved for his own sake. Surely, then, he will stick closer
than a brother.
6. Yet again, friendship and love, to be real, must not lie in words, but in
deeds. The friendship of bare compliment is the fashion of this age, because
this age is the age of deceit. The world is the great house of sham. Go where
you may in London, sham is staring you in the face; there are very few real
things to be discovered. I allude not merely to tricks in business,
adulterations in food, and such like. Deception is not confined to the
tradesman's shop. It prevails throughout society; the sanctuary is not
exempt. The preacher adopts a sham voice. You hardly ever hear a man speak in
the pulpit in the same way he would speak in the parlor. Why, I hear my
brethren, sometimes, when they are at tea or dinner, speak in a very
comfortable decent sort of English voice, but when they get into their
pulpits they adopt a sanctimonious tone, and fill their mouths with inflated
utterance, or else whine most pitifully. They degrade the pulpit by
pretending to honor it; speaking in a voice which God never intended any
mortal to have. This is the great house of sham; and such little things show
which way the wind blows. You leave your card at a friend's house; that is an
act of friendship-the card! I wonder whether, if he were hard up for cash,
you would leave your banker's book! You write "My dear sir," "Yours very
truly;" it is a sham; you do not mean it. "Dear!" that is a sacred word; it
ought to be used to none but those you regard with affection; but we tolerate
falsehoods now, as if they were truths; and we call them courtesies.
Courtesies they may be; but untruths they are in many cases. Now, Christ's
love lieth not in words, but in deeds. He saith not, "My dear people;" but he
let his heart out, and we could see what that was. He doth not come to us,
and say, "Dearly beloved" simply; but he hangs upon the cross, and there we
read "Dearly beloved" in red letters. He does not come to us with the kisses
of his lips first-he giveth us blessings with both his hands; he giveth
himself for us, and then he giveth himself to us. Trust no complimentary
friend; rely upon the man who giveth you real tokens worth your having, who
does for you deeds to show the truthfulness of his heart. Such a friend-and
such is Jesus-"sticketh closer than a brother."
7. Once more, and I shall not weary you, I trust. A purchased friend will
never last long. Give to a man nineteen times, and deny him the twentieth,
and he shall hate you; for his love sprang only from your gifts. The love
which I could buy for gold I would sell for dross; the friendship that I
could buy for pearls I would dispense with for pebbles; it were of no value,
and therefore the sooner lost the better. But O believer, Christ's love was
unpurchased love. Thou broughtest him no present. Jacob said, when his sons
went to Egypt, "Take the man a present, a little oil, a little balm, a few
nuts and almonds;" but you took Christ no presents. When you came to him you
said,
"Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling."
You did not even promise that you would love him; for you had such a
faithless heart, you durst not say so. You asked him to make you love him;
that was the most you could do. He loved you for nothing at all-simply
because he would love you. Well, that love which so lived on nothing but its
own resources, will not starve through the scantiness of your returns; the
love which grew in such a rocky heart as this, will not die for want of soil.
That love which sprang up in the barren desert, in your unirrigated soul,
will never, never die for want of moisture; it must live, it can not expire.
Jesus must be "a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
8. Shall I stay to urge more reasons? I may but mention one other, namely,
this-that there can not, by any possibility, arise any cause which could make
Christ love us less. You say, how is this? One man loves his friend, but he
on a sudden grows rich, and now he says I am a greater man than I used to be,
I forget my old acquaintances. But Christ can grow no richer; he is as rich
as he can be, infinitely so. He loves you now; then it can not be possible
that he will by reason of an increase in his own personal glory forsake you,
for everlasting glories now crown his head; he can never be more glorious and
great, and therefore he will love you still. Sometimes, on the other hand,
one friend grows poorer, and then the other forsakes him; but you never can
grow poorer than you are, for you are "a poor sinner and nothing at all" now;
you have nothing of your own; all you have is borrowed, all given you by him.
He can not love you, then, less, because you grow poorer; for poverty that
hath nothing is at least as poor as it can be, and can never sink lower in
the scale. Christ, therefore, must love thee for all thy nakedness and all
thy poverty.
"But I may prove sinful," sayest thou. Yes, but thou canst not be more so
than he foreknew thou wouldst be; and yet he loved thee with the
foreknowledge of all thy sins. Surely, then, when it happens it will occasion
no surprise to him; he knew it all beforehand, and he can not swerve from his
love; no circumstance can possibly arise that ever will divide the Saviour
from his love to his people, and the saint from his love to his Saviour. He
is "a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
III. Now, then, AN INFERENCE TO BE DERIVED FROM THIS. Lavater says, "The
qualities of your friends will be those of your enemies; cold friends, cold
enemies, half friends, half enemies, fervid enemies, warm friends." Knowing
this to be a truth, I have often congratulated myself, when my enemies have
spoken fiercely against me. Well, I have thought, "My friends love me hard
and fast; let my enemies be as hot as they please; it only indicates that the
friends are proportionately firm in affection. Then we draw this inference,
that if Christ sticks close, and he is our friend, then our enemies will
stick close, and never leave us till we die. O, Christian, because Christ
sticks close, the devil will stick close too; he will be at you and with you;
the dog of hell will never cease his howlings, till you reach the other side
of Jordan; no place in this world is out of bow-shot of that great enemy;
till you have crossed the stream his arrows can reach you, and they will. If
Christ gave himself for you, the devil will do all he can to destroy you; if
Christ has been long-suffering to you, Satan will be persevering, in hopes
that Christ may forget you; he will strive after you, and strive until he
shall see you safely landed in heaven. But be not disappointed: the louder
Satan roars, the more proof you shall have of Christ's love. "Give me," said
old Rutherford, "give me a roaring devil rather than a sleeping one; for
sleeping devils make me slumber, but roaring ones provoke me to run to my
Master." O! be glad, then, if the world rant at thee, if thy foes attack thee
fiercely. Christ is just as full of love to thee as they are of hatred.
Therefore,
"Be firm and strong;
Be grace thy shield and Christ thy song."
And now I have a question to ask: that question I ask of every man and every
woman in this place, and of every child too-Is Jesus Christ your friend? Have
you a friend at court-at heaven's court? Is the judge of quick and dead your
friend? Can you say that you love him, and has he ever revealed himself in
the way of love to you? Dear hearer, do not answer that question for thy
neighbor; answer it for thyself. Peer or peasant, rich or poor, learned or
illiterate, this question is for each of you; therefore, ask it: Is Christ my
friend? Did you ever consider that question? Have you ever asked it? O! to be
able to say "Christ is my friend," is one of the sweetest things in the
world. A man who had lived much in sin, one day casually entered a place of
worship. Before the sermon, this hymn was sung-
"Jesus, lover of my soul."
The next day the man was met by an acquaintance who asked him how he liked
the sermon. Said he, "I do not know, but there were two or three words that
took such a hold of me that I did not know what to do with myself. The
minister read that hymn, 'Jesus, lover of my soul.' Ah!' said he, though he
was by no means a religious man, "to be able to say that, I would give up all
I have got! But do you think," he asked "that Jesus ever will be the lover of
such a man as I am? 'Jesus, lover of my soul!' O! could I say it." And then
he buried his head in his hands and wept. I have every reason to fear that he
went back to his sin, and was the same afterwards as before. But, you see, he
had conscience enough to let him know how valuable it was to have Christ for
his lover and his friend. Ah! rich man, thou hast many friends. There be some
here who have toiled for their country's good, and deserve a meed of honor at
their country's hands, who, for one mistake-or what, perhaps, was a mistake-
have been neglected by too many who once appeared to be their most trusty
adherents. O! put no confidence, ye great men and ye rich, in the adherence
of your friends. David said in his hast," All men are liars;" you may one day
have to say it at your leisure. And O! ye kind and affectionate hearts, who
are not rich in wealth, but who are rich in love-and that is the world's best
wealth-put this golden coin among your silver ones, and it will sanctify them
all. Get Christ's love shed abroad in your hearts, and your mother's love,
your daughter's love, your husband's love, your wife's love, will become more
sweet than ever. The love of Christ cast not out the love of relatives, but
it sanctifies our loves, and makes them sweeter far. Remember, dear hearer,
the love of men and women is very sweet; but all must pass away; and what
will you do, if you have no wealth but the wealth that fadeth, and no love
but the love which dies, when death shall come? O! to have the love of
Christ! You can take that across the river of death with you; you can wear it
as your bracelet in heaven, and set it up as a seal upon your hand; for his
love is "strong as death and mightier than the grave." Good old Bishop
Beveridge, I think it was, when dying, did not know his best friends. Said
one, "Bishop Beveridge, do you know me?" Said he, "Who are you?" and when the
name was mentioned, he said, "No." "But don't you know your wife, Bishop?"
"What is her name?" said he. Said she, "I am your wife." "I did not know I
had got one," said he. Poor old man! his faculties all failed him. At last
one stooped down and whispered, "Do you know the Lord Jesus Christ?" "Yes,"
said he, making an effort to speak, "I have known him these forty years, and
I never can forget him." It is marvelous how memory will hold the place with
Jesus, when it will with no one else; and it is equally marvelous, that,
"When all created things are dry, Christ's fullness is the same."
My dear hearers, do think of this matter. O that you might get Christ for
your friend; he will never be your friend while you are self-righteous; he
will never be your friend while you live in sin. But do you believe
yourselves guilty? Do you desire to leave off sin? Do you want to be saved?
Do you desire to be renewed? Then let me tell you, my Master loves you! Poor,
weak, and helpless worms, my Master's heart if full of love to you; his eyes
at this moment are looking down with pity on you. "O! Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem!" He now bids me tell you that he died for all of you who confess
yourselves to be sinners, and feel it. He bids me say to you, "Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." He tells me to proclaim salvation
full and free; full, needing nothing of yours to help it; free, needing
nothing of yours to buy it.
"Come ye thirsty, come and welcome;
God's free bounty glorify:
True belief and true repentance,
Every grace that brings us nigh-
Without money,
Come to Jesus Christ, and buy."
There is nothing I feel that I fail so much in as addressing sinners. O! I
wish I could cry my heart out, and preach my heart out, to you and at you.
"Dear Saviour, draw reluctant hearts,
To thee let sinners fly,
And take the bliss thy love imparts;
And drink, and never die."
Farewell, with this one thought-we shall never all of us meet together here
again. It is a very solemn thought, but according to the course of nature and
the number of deaths, if all of you were willing to come here next Sabbath
morning, it is not at all likely that all of you would be alive; one out of
this congregation will be sure to have gone the way of all flesh. Farewell,
thou that are appointed to death; I know not where thou art-yon strong man,
or yon tender maiden with the hectic flush of consumption on her cheek. I
know not who is appointed to death; but I do now most solemnly take my
farewell of such an one. Farewell, poor soul; and is it farewell for ever?
Shall we meet in the land of the hereafter, in the home of the blessed; or do
I bid you farewell now for ever? I do solemnly bid farewell to you for ever,
if you live and die without Christ. But I can not bear that dreary thought;
and I therefore say, poor sinner! stop and consider-consider thy ways, and
now "turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?" "Why will ye die?" "Why will ye
die?" "Why will ye die?" Ah! ye can not answer that question. May God help
you to answer it in a better fashion, by saying, "Here Lord!
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that thy blood was shed for me,
O Son of God I come to thee.
I trust my soul in thy kind hands." The Lord bless you all for Christ's sake!
Amen.
This File Provided by:
Tony Capoccia
Bible Bulletin Board (BBB)
Box 314
Columbus, New Jersey, USA 08022
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