Charles Spurgeon Collection: Spurgeon - C.H. - Sermons from Psalms: 078 PSA 106:9 Israel at the Red Sea

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Charles Spurgeon Collection: Spurgeon - C.H. - Sermons from Psalms: 078 PSA 106:9 Israel at the Red Sea



TOPIC: Spurgeon - C.H. - Sermons from Psalms (Other Topics in this Collection)
SUBJECT: 078 PSA 106:9 Israel at the Red Sea

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                 Israel at the Red Sea



March 30, 1856

by

C. H. SPURGEON

(1834-1892)



"He rebuked the Red Sea also, and it was dried up: so he led them through the

depths, as through the wilderness."- Psa_106:9.



Several Sabbaths ago we preached upon the deliverance of the children of

Israel out of Egypt, by the blood of the passover: and we told you then, that

we believed that event to be typical of the coming forth of God's people from

that spiritual house of bondage, that furnace of mental suffering whence they

are delivered by the omnipotent grace of God, at the time of their

conversion. This morning we pursue the narrative. No doubt the children of

Israel supposed that now all was over; the Egyptians has sent them away,

entreating them to depart, and loading them with riches. Terror had smitten

the heart of Egypt, for from the king on the throne to the prisoner in the

dungeon, all was dismay and fear on account of Israel. Egypt was glad for

them when they departed. Therefore the children of Israel said within

themselves, "We shall now march to Canaan at once; there will be no more

dangers, no more troubles, no more trials; the Egyptians themselves have sent

us away, and they are too much afraid of us ever to molest us again. Now

shall be tread the desert through with hasty footstep; and when a few more

days have passed, we shall enter into the land of our possession-the land

that floweth with milk and honey." "Not quite so speedily," says God; "the

time is not arrived yet for you to rest. It is true I have delivered you from

Egypt; but there is much you have to learn before you will be prepared to

dwell in Canaan. Therefore I shall lead you about, and instruct you, and

teach you." And it came to pass that the Lord led the children of Israel

about, through the way of the wilderness of the Red Sea, till they arrived

over against Baalzephon, where on either side the craggy mountains shut them

in. Pharoah hears of it; he comes upon them, to overcome them; and they stand

in terrible fright and jeopardy of them, to overcome them; and they stand in

terrible fright and jeopardy of their lives. Now, beloved, it is usually so

with the believer: he marches out of Egypt spiritually at the time of his

conversion, and he says within himself, "Now I shall always be happy." He has

a bright eye, and a light heart, for his fetters have been dashed to the

ground, and he feels no longer the lash of conscience upon his shoulder.

"Now," says he, "I may have a short life, but it will be a happy one."



"'A few more rolling years at most,

Will land me on fair Canaan's coast.'



And then I shall have no more warfare, no more fighting, no more disturbance;

but I shall be at peace." "Not quite as thou desirest," says God. "Oh! thou

little one; I have more to teach thee ere thou art prepared for my palace."

Then he commences to lead us about, and bring us into straits and perils. The

sins which we thought had utterly left us are hunting us behind, while

impassible floods block up the way. Even trembling Israel halting by the Red

Sea is but a faint emblem of that terrible position into which the child of

God usually falls, within a few weeks or months after he has come out of the

land of Egypt.



I shall preach this morning a sermon, which I hope will be useful to such of

you as have lately come to know the Lord. You were expecting to build

tabernacles, in which to dwell on the summit of the mountains of joy for

ever; but you find, on the contrary, that you have very great troubles and

conflicts; and perhaps now you have a more terrible trial than you ever

experienced in all your life before. I will endeavour to show you, that this

is just what you might have expected; that there will be a Red Sea very soon

after you come out of your house of bondage. Others of you, my dear friends,

have passed through all these things many years ago. You can say,-



"Many days have passed since then,

Many changes I have seen,

Yet have been upheld till now;

Who could hold me up but thou?"



But I am sure you will be glad to re-visit the spot, where God delivered you

from your distresses. We find it very pleasant to look upon the place where

we were taught in our school-boy days, or to visit the haunts of our

childhood. So you who are grey-headed in the cause of your Master, will not

find it very tedious work to go back a little way, and look to that Red Sea

which God rebuked and dried up, that you might be led through it even as

through the wilderness.



Coming, then, to the subject; the children of Israel had their difficulties,

and so generally the child of God has his very soon after he comes out of

Egypt. But then they had their refuges; and moreover, God had a great and

grand design to answer in all the troubles into which they were brought.



I. Taking the first point, the children of Israel just now had THREE

DIFFICULTIES-three exceeding great dangers. And so I believe that every heir

of heaven, within a very short period after the time of his deliverance, will

meet with the same.



The first they had was a great trial sent by God himself. There was the Red

Sea in the front of them. Now, it was not an enemy that put the sea there; it

was God himself. We may therefore think, that the Red Sea represents some

great and trying providence, which the Lord will be sure to place in the path

of every new-born child; in order to try his faith, and to test the sincerity

of his trust in God. I do not know, beloved, whether your experience will

back up mine: but I can say this, that the worst difficulty I ever met with,

or I think I can ever meet with, happened a little time after my conversion

to God. And you must generally expect, very soon after you have been brought

to know and love him, that you will have some great, broad, deep Red Sea

straight before your path, which you will scarcely know how to pass.

Sometimes it will occur in the family. The husband says, for instance-if he

is an ungodly man-"You shall not attend such-and-such a place of worship; I

positively forbid you to be baptized, or to join that church;" there is a Red

Sea before you. You had done nothing wrong; it is God himself who places that

Red Sea before your path. Or perhaps before that time, you were carrying on a

business which now you cannot conscientiously continue; and there is a Red

Sea which you have to cross in renouncing your means of livelihood. You don't

see how it is to be done; how you are to maintain yourself, and to provide

things honest in the sight of all men. Or perhaps your employment calls you

amongst men with whom you lived before on amicable terms, and now on a

sudden, they say, "Come! won't you do as you used to do?" There, again, is a

Red Sea before you. It is a hard struggle; you do not like to come out and

say, "I cannot, I shall not, for I am a Christian." You stand still, half

afraid to go forward. Or perhaps it is something proceeding more immediately

from God. You find that just when he plants a vine in your heart, he blasts

all the vines in your vineyard; and when he plants you in his own garden,

then it is that he uproots all your comforts and your joys. Just when the Sun

of Righteousness is rising upon you, your own little candle is blown out;

just when you seem to need it most, your gourd is withered, your prosperity

departs, and your flood becomes an ebb. I say again, it may not be so with

all of you, but I think that most of God's people have not long escaped the

bondage of Egypt, before they find some terrible, rolling sea, lashed perhaps

by tempestuous winds directly in their path; they stand aghast, and say, "O

God, how can I bear this? I thought I could give up all for thee; but now I

feel as if I could do nothing! I thought I should be in heaven, and all would

be easy; but here is a sea I cannot ford-there is no squadron of ships to

carry me across: it is not bridged even by thy mercy; I must swim it, or else

I fear I must perish."



Then the children of Israel had a second difficulty. They would not have

cared about the Red Sea a single atom, if they had not been terrified by the

Egyptians who were behind them. These Egyptians, I think may be interpreted

this morning, by way of parable, as the representatives of those sins of

ours, which we thought were clean dead and gone. For a little while after

conversion sin does not trouble a Christian; he is very happy and cheerful,

in a sense of pardon; but before many days are past, he will understand what

Paul said, "I find another law in my members, so that when I would do good,

evil is present with me." The first moment when he wins his liberty he laughs

and leaps in an ecstacy of joy. He thinks, "Oh! I shall soon be in heaven; as

for sin, I can trample that beneath my feet!" But mark you, scarce has

another Sabbath gladdened his spirit, ere he finds that sin is too much for

him; the old corruptions which he fancied were laid in their graves get a

resurrection and start up afresh, and he begins to cry, "O wretched man that

I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" He sees all his old

sins galloping behind him: like Pharoah and his host pursuing him to the

borders of the Red Sea. There is a great trial before him. Oh! he thinks he

could bear that; he thinks he could walk through the Red Sea; oh! those

Egyptian-they are behind him! He thought he should never have seen them any

more for ever; they were the plague and torment of his life when they made

him work in the brick-kiln. He sees his old master, the very man who was wont

to lay the lash on his shoulders, riding post haste after him; and there are

the eyes of that black Pharoah, flashing like fire in the distance; he sees

the horrid scowling face of the tyrant, and how he trembles! Satan is after

him, and all the legions of hell seem to be let loose, if possible, utterly

to destroy his soul. At such a time, moreover, our sins are more formidable

to us than they were before they were forgiven; because, when we were in

Egypt, we never saw the Egyptians mounted on horses, or in chariots; they

only appeared as our task-masters, with their whips; but now these people see

the Egyptians on horseback, clad in armour; they behold all the mighty men of

valour come out with their warlike instruments to slay them. So did I find,

speaking for myself, that when I first knew the weight of sin, it was as a

burden, as a labour, as a trouble; but when the second time



"I asked the Lord that I might grow,

In faith, and love, and every grace;

Might more of his salvation know,

And seek more earnestly his face;"



and when he answered me by letting all my sins loose upon me they appeared

more frightful than before. I thought the Egyptians in Egypt were not half so

bad as the Egyptians out of Egypt; I thought the sins I knew before, though

they were cruel task-masters, were not half so much to be dreaded as those

soldier-sins, armed with spears and axes, with chariots of iron with scythes

upon their axles, hastening to assault me. It is true they did not come so

near to me as heretofore; nevertheless they occasioned more fright than when

I was their slave. It may be, poor child of God, thou art astonished and

amazed to find, that thy sins are more black now than they were when thou

wast under conviction; that thou hast less hope than thou hadst even then;

and that thy condition is possibly far worse than when the law was beating

thee from head to foot, and rubbing brine into the wounds of thy conscience.

Thou mayest be saying, "Ah! well, I never thought of this; if I be a child of

God, if I were really pardoned and forgiven, how could it be that I should be

so vexed and tormented with a sense of my guilt? And if all my transgressions

have been cast into the depths of the sea, how is it that I hear the armies

of my sins, rattling their horse-hoofs and chariot-wheels behind me?" I tell

thee, beloved, in the name of the Lord, that is just what you ought to have

expected. The pangs after we come out of Egypt are at times even more painful

than those we feel in the house of bondage; and there is usually a time of

trial a little while after the new birth, which is even more terrible and

awful than the previous agony of the soul, though not usually so protracted.

This was the second difficulty.



But there was a third difficulty, which perhaps wrought them more misery than

either of the other two: these poor children of Israel had such faint hearts.

They no sooner saw the Egyptians than they began to cry out; and when they

beheld the Red Sea before them, they murmured against their deliverer. A

faint heart is the worst foe a Christian can have; whilst he keeps his faith

firm, whilst the anchor is fixed deep in the rock, he never need fear the

storm; but when the hand of faith is palsied, or the eye of faith is dim, it

will go hard with us. As for the Egyptian, he may throw his spear; while we

can catch it on the shield of faith, we are not terrified by the weapon, but

if we lose our faith, the spear becomes a deadly dart. While we have faith,

the Red Sea may flow before us, as deep and dark as it pleases: for like

Leviathan, we trust we can snuff up Jordan at a draught. But if we have no

faith, then at the most insignificant streamlet, which Faith could take up in

her hands in a single moment, and drink like Gideon's men, poor Unbelief

stands quivering and crying, "Ah! I shall be drowned in the floods, or I

shall be slain by the foe; there is no hope for me; I am driven to despair.

It would have been better for me that I had died in Egypt, than that I should

come hither to be slain by the hand of the enemy." The child of God, when he

is first born, has but very little faith, because he has had but little

experience; he has not tried the promise, and therefore he does not know its

faithfulness. He has not used the arm of his faith, and therefore the sinews

of it have not become strong. Let him live a little longer, and become

confirmed in the faith, and he will not care for Red Seas, nor yet for the

Egyptians; but just then his little heart beats against the walls of his

body, and he laments, "Ah, me! ah, me! O wretched man that I am! How shall I

ever find deliverance?" This description of spiritual geography may be

uninteresting to some, because they may not have travelled through this part

of the wilderness, but others will view it with attention. Who cared about

maps of the Crimea till there was war there? But as soon as our soldiers were

engaged in that particular spot, every man bought a map of the Crimea and

studied the boundaries of Russia. So if you have been in these straits, you

will be very glad of my map this morning, that you may see the way in which

God leads his family. These are the three dangers-a great trial, sins

pursuing us behind, and an exceedingly faint heart.



II. But, thanks be to God! the children of Israel had THREE HELPS.



Oh! child of God? dost thou discern this mystery? Whenever thou hast three

trials, thou wilt always have three promises; and if thou hadst forty

afflictions, thou wouldst have forty measures of grace. Yes, and if thou

hadst a million troubles, thou wouldst have a million measures of mercy. The

Israelites had three difficulties, and they had three helps; and as the

difficulty was put in the way by providence, so providence did also furnish a

relief.



The first help they had was Providence. Providence put the Red Sea there, and

piled the rocks on either hand, while providence represented by the fiery

cloudy pillar, had led them to its shore, and conducted them into the defile,

and now the same pillar of providence came to their assistance. They had not

come thither undirected, and therefore they should not be left unprotected,

for the same cloudy pillar which led them there, came behind them to protect

them.



Cheer up, then, heir of grace! What is thy trial? Has providence brought it

upon thee? If so, unerring wisdom will deliver thee from it. What is it thou

art now exercised upon? As truly as thou art alive, God will remove it. Dost

thou think God's cloudy pillar would ever lead thee to a place where God's

right arm would fail thee? Dost thou imagine that he would ever guide thee

into such a defile that he could not conduct thee out again? The providence

which apparently misleads, will in verity befriend thee. That which leads

thee into difficulties guards thee against thy foes; it casts darkness on thy

sins, whilst it giveth light to thee. How sweet is providence to a child of

God, when he can reflect upon it! He can look out into this world, and say,

"However great my troubles, they are not so great as my Father's power;

however difficult may be my circumstances, yet all things around me are

working together for good. He who holds up yon unpillared arch of the starry

heavens can also support my soul without a single apparent prop; he who

guides the stars in the well-ordered courses, even when they seem to move in

hazy dances, surely he can overrule my trials in such a way that out of

confusion he will bring order; and from seeming evil produce lasting good. He

who bridles the storm, and puts the bit in the mouth of the tempest, surely

he can restrain my trial, and keep my sorrows in subjection. I need not fear

while the lightnings are in his hands and the thunders sleep within his lips;

while the oceans gurgle from his fist, and the clouds are in the hollow of

his hands; while the rivers are turned by his foot, and while he diggeth the

channels of the sea. Surely he whose might wings an angel, can furnish a worm

with strength; he who guides a cherub will not be overcome by the trials of

an emmet like myself. He who makes the most ponderous orb roll in dignity,

and keeps its predestined orbit, can make a little atom like myself move in

my proper course, and conduct me as he pleaseth. Christian! there is no

sweeter pillow than providence; and when providence seemeth adverse, believe

it still, lay it under thy head, for depend upon it there is comfort in its

bosom. There is hope for thee thou child of God! The great trouble which is

to come in thy way in the early part of thy pilgrimage, is planned by love,

the same love which shall interpose as thy protector.



Again: the children of Israel had another refuge, in the fact, that they knew

that they were the covenant people of God, and that, though they were in

difficulties, God had brought them there, and therefore God, (with reverence

let me say it,) was bound in honor to bring them out of that trouble into

which he had brought them. "Well," says the child of God, "I know I am in a

strait, but this one thing I also know, that I did not come out of Egypt by

myself-I know that he brought me out; I know that I did not escape by my own

power, or slay my first-born sins myself-I know that he did it; and though I

fled from the tyrant-I know that he made my feet mighty for travel, for there

was not one feeble in all our tribes; I know that though I am at the Red sea,

I did not run there uncalled, but he bade me go there, and therefore I give

to the winds my fears; for it he hath led me here into this difficulty, he

will lead me out, and lead me through.



But the point to which I want to direct your attention most of all is this.

The third refuge which the children of Israel had, was in a man; and neither

of the two others, without that, would have been of any avail. It was the man

Moses. He did everything for them. Thy greatest refuge, O child of God! in

all thy trials, is in a man: not in Moses, but in Jesus; not in the servant,

but in the master. he is interceding for thee, unseen and unheard by thee,

even as Moses did for the children of Israel. If thou couldst but, in the dim

distance, catch the sweet syllables of his voice as they distil from his

lips, and see his heart as it speaks for thee, thou wouldst take comfort; for

God hears that man when he pleads. He can overcome every difficulty. He has

not a rod, but a cross, which can divide the Red sea; he has not only a

cloudy pillar of forgiving grace, which can dim the eyes of your foes and

keep them at a distance; but he has a cross, which can open the Red sea and

drown thy sins in the very midst. He will not leave thee. Look! on yonder

rock of heaven he stands, cross in hand, even as Moses with his rod. Cry to

him, for with that uplifted cross he will cleave a path for thee, and guide

thee through the sea; he will make those hoary floods, which had been friends

for ever, and stand asunder like foes. Call to him, and he will make thee a

way in the midst of the ocean, and a path through the pathless sea. Cry to

him, and there shall not a sin of thine be left alive; he will sweep them all

away; and the king of sin, the devil, he too shall be overwhelmed beneath the

Saviour's blood, whilst thou shalt sing-



"Hell and my sins obstruct my path,

But hell and sin are conquer'd foes;

My Jesus nailed them to his cross,

And sang the triumph as he rose."



Still look thou to that man who once on Calvary died!



III. GOD HAD A DESIGN IN IT. And here, also, we wish you to regard with

attention what God's design is, in leading the Christian into exceeding great

trials in the early part of his life. This is explained to us by the Apostle

Paul. A reference Bible is the best commentator in the world; and the most

heavenly exposition is the searching out of kindred, texts, and comparing

their meaning. "They were all baptized," says the Apostle, "unto Moses, in

the cloud and in the sea." God's design in bringing his people into trouble,

and raising all their sins at their heels, is to give them a thorough baptism

into his service, consecrating them for ever to himself. I mean by baptism

this morning, not the rite, but what baptism represents. Baptism signifies

dedication to God-initiation into God's service. It is not when we are first

converted that we so fully dedicate ourselves to God, as afterwards, when

some great Red sea rolls before us. I should be delighted to see some of you

get into trouble. Am I unkind to utter such a wish? Well I repeat it, I

should; for I shall never get you into the church unless you do; you will

never come forward and make a thorough dedication of yourselves to God, till

you have had a sharp trial. Rest assured of this, that sharp trials were no

slight cause of the heroic devotion of the martyrs, confessors, and

missionaries, who so thoroughly consecrated themselves to their Master's

service. The great purpose of all our affliction is the promotion of an

entire dedication to Christ in all our hearts. It is only in the font of

sorrow that we are baptized with Christ's baptism. No holy chrism hath

efficacy to baptize; it is the Spirit, who alone can dedicate us in the

waters of the sea of tribulation. You are brought into these straits, young

believer, that you may at such a time receive the baptism for God. Do not, I

beseech you, let the time pass by; for there are some who neglect it, who,

afterwards, never perfectly know what it is to be "baptized unto Jesus, in

the cloud and in the sea." They say, "they will wait a little while," but the

consequence is, they wait a very long while. They say they will do to-morrow

what they ought to do to-day. Beware how you let slip the opportunity which

God presents you, that you may devote yourself publicly to him. The very

first time after conversion, when we come into straits and difficulties, is

intended that we should then be dedicated to Jesus, and come out openly as

the children of the living God.



Now, beloved, let these thoughts rest with you. You may think them

unimportant, but I am sure they are not. Believe me, you ought, indeed, to

own yourselves on the Lord's side. If God be God, serve him; if Baal be God,

serve him. There is nothing which I would more earnestly and ardently press

upon you, than the great duty of decision for Jesus Christ. How many of you

have a faint and indistinct hope, that when you die you will be Christ's

people; and yet you must confess that you are not decided for Christ. You

think you are his, but you often neglect duty, and frequently allow what you

think a little sin to stain your conscience. You are not godly in worldly

affairs. But I beseech you, put truth and righteousness into one scale, and

put your own worldly gain into the other, and see which is the most

important, and if you think that prudence dictates attention to this world

instead of God, then remember, that is hellish prudence, and cometh of the

devil, and, therefore, reject it. If ye were Egyptians, I might tell you to

serve another master; but since you are God's people, or profess to be, I

charge home upon you; and I beg of you, if you make a profession, to be out-

and-out with it. How we do loathe those hot and cold people, who are neither

one thing nor the other! You, who hold with the hare and run with the hounds-

you, who are first one thing and then another-you, who are half horse, half

alligator, and neither of them-you, who are something between the two, who

are neither Christians nor worldlings in your own opinions. We know which you

are. I have often thought what a consistent religion the Roman Catholic would

be for some of you go-between people. You are not exactly children of God;

but you would not like to be called the children of the devil. Where should

we put you at last? It would be a very convenient thing to have a purgatory

for you, to place you somewhere between the two. But as we have no such

place, we do not wish to have any such characters, and we believe there are

none such; you are either servants of God, or servants of the devil. Don't

stand halting between two opinions, but just say, once for all, whom you will

serve. If you choose the devil, choose him, love him, serve him, and rejoice

in your choice. If you choose hell, go there, rush madly there; it's a

fearful dwelling place for eternity-an awful home for ever! But if you choose

God, I beseech you be in downright earnest about it. The religion of the

present day, what mockery it is to call it religion at all! I protest, I

believe the common religion of this age will not carry half those who profess

it to heaven. It is a religion which they might easily carry to heaven, for

it is too light to burden them, but it is too fragile to carry them there.

They have a godliness which has not eaten up their soul. I heart a minister

say once to his people, that "it would be a long time before the zeal of

God's house would eat them up." Take the churches all round: what a

slumbering brotherhood they are! There might almost be a controversy between

the prince of this world, and the prince of heaven to whom they belonged. But

I beseech you, let there be a marked and decided difference between you and

the world. Let your heart be steeped in godliness; let your life be saturated

with religion. Take care that, "whether you eat, or drink, or whatsoever you

do, you do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks unto God and

the Father by him." So shall God see his great design subserved of making you

to be baptized unto Jesus, "in the cloud and in the sea."



In concluding, there is one sad aspect of this picture, which I wish you to

regard. It is this. Some of you are journeying in an unconverted state to

that bourne from which there is no return. At death you will find a Red Sea

in your way-the sea of death staring you in the face. When you come before

it, you will find no bridge, no ships; but you must wade that sea alone. And,

mark you, if you are living now in an ungodly condition, and are doing so

when you die, as certainly as you are here, just when that great sea of death

is rolling before you, all the Egyptian hosts of your sins will harass you in

the rear. All your sins will come bellowing after you; you will have your

iniquities like wild winter wolves pursuing you, athrist for blood, and swift

to slay. You will hear fiends howling in your ears. And when already the

raging flood of Jordan hath made your bones shake, and your marrow quiver,

just then you will see the red eyes of your sins peering through the darkness

of your despair, and hear the howlings of your former transgressions, as they

hound you to the pit, seeking after your soul's blood. Ah, then, my hearer,

thou wilt have no cloudy pillar to give thee light; thou wilt have no pillar

of darkness to confound thy foes; but thou wilt have behind thee all thy

sins, and before thee that black sea of death, which thou art compelled to

cross. But mark thee, those sins will swim that sea with thee; they will not

be like the Egyptians which were drowned; but when thou art wading through

the sea, thou wilt find thy sins like hounds fixing on a stag, drinking thy

heart's blood. Ay, when thou hast landed in eternity, thou wilt find there

was not a single one drowned in the sea, but that they are all alive; every

sin grown into a giant, every lust brandishing a thousand arms, each arm

bearing a thousand horrid fingers of flame, and each finger a claw of iron,

which shall tear thy soul. Oh! I warn thee against these Egyptians of thy

sins, for unless the blood be sprinkled on thy door-post and on thy lintel,

and unless the destroying angel smite those sins for thee, they will

assuredly follow thee across the sea. Methinks I see thee there! Thou art

just in the midst of the Jordan. Poor soul! the river itself is work enough

for a man to wade through it; for dying is not easy labour. The waters are

rushing into his lips, and gurgling in his throat, like a whirlpool. See how

he shakes. White as the floods around him, he quivers, like the very waves

themselves. And, ah! just when in his fell despair, he shrieks-see, the

harpies feed him with black fruits of hell; and when he quivers most, see

there the scalding brimstone of Almighty God rained upon his body. Just when

he is shrieking in death's torments, then is it that Satan takes the

opportunity to howl in his face, and show him his glaring eyes of fire, to

terrify his poor soul, worse than death itself. Sinner! when thou diest,

remember that thou wilt have to die two deaths, one death which we shall see,

another death which we only know of by the shrieks, and groans, and anguish,

which even we may hear on this side of the grave. But what thou wilt

experience in the next world, I cannot picture to thee, I cannot tell thee;

those dim shapes of horror I cannot paint to thee; those fierce flames of

misery I cannot now describe; that doleful miserere of desolation, and that

awful lament of eternity, I cannot endure to hear; I dare not lift the veil

that conceals the dread scenes, which haunt the spirits of the ungodly

departed.



Well, then, what shalt thou do to escape this death? What canst thou do to be

saved? Why, sinner, in the first place, of thyself thou canst do nothing at

all. But, in the second place, there is one-a Man, who can do all for thee.

He is the Man Christ Jesus; if thou believest on him, filthy as thou art, and

wretched, and outcast, and vile, thou shalt never see the second death, but

shalt have eternal life abiding in thee; and when thou diest in this world,

instead of black fiends to hound thee through the river, thou wilt have sweet

angels playing o'er the stream, waiting to waft thee unto glory; thou wilt

feel bright spirits fanning thy hot brow with their soft wings; thou wilt

hear songs, sweet as the music of paradise, and when thy troubles are the

strongest, thou wilt have a peace with God "which passeth all understanding;"

a "joy unspeakable and full of glory," which shall enable thee to "swallow up

death in victory." "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, and he

that believeth not shall be damned." Poor, trembling, penitent sinner, put

thine hand inside the hand of Christ; now fall on his mercy; "to-day, if you

will hear his voice, harden not your heart." I beseech you for Christ's sake,

"be ye reconciled to God." And if ye be penitents, may God give you faith

that ye may be believers! As for the rest of you, remember, ere you go, I

have told you no fable, but the truth. You may go away and say, "There is no

hell." Well, suppose there is none, believers will be as well off as you are.

But suppose there is-and there is for a certainty-suppose yourselves in it,

you cannot then suppose yourselves out of it any more. May God grant his

blessing, for Jesus' sake; turning many of you to righteousness.



Provided by:



Tony Capoccia

Bible Bulletin Board

Box 314          

Columbus, NJ, USA 08022