An
earnest warning about lukewarmness
A
Sermon Delivered on Lord's-Day Morning, July 26th, 1874, by C. H.
SPURGEON, At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Unto the angel of
the church of the Laodiceans write; These things saith the Amen,
the faithful and true witness, the beginning of the creation of
God; I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I
would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm,
and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.
Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and
have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and
miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked: I counsel thee to buy
of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white
raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and [that] the shame of thy
nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve,
that thou mayest see. As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be
zealous therefore, and repent. Behold, I stand at the door, and
knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come
in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. To him that
overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I
also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his
throne." Rev. 3:14-21
The epistle to the church of Laodicea is
not an old letter which may be put into the waste basket and be
forgotten; upon its page still glow the words, "He that hath
an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the
churches." This Scripture was not meant to instruct the
Laodiceans only, it has a wider aim. The actual church of
Laodicea has passed away, but other Laodiceas still exist-indeed,
they are sadly multiplied in our day, and it has ever been the
tendency of human nature, however inflamed with the love of God,
gradually to chill into lukewarmness. The letter to the
Laodiceans is above all others the epistle for the present times.
I should judge that the church at Laodicea
was once in a very fervent and healthy condition. Paul wrote a
letter to it which did not claim inspiration, and therefore its
loss does not render the Scriptures incomplete, for Paul may have
written scores of other letters besides. Paul also mentions the
church at Laodicea in his letter to the church at Colosse; he
was, therefore, well acquainted with it, and as he does not utter
a word of censure with regard to it, we may infer that the church
was at that time in a sound state. In process of time it
degenerated, and cooling down from its former ardour it became
careless, lax, and indifferent. Perhaps its best men were dead,
perhaps its wealth seduced it into worldliness, possibly its
freedom from persecution engendered carnal ease, or neglect of
prayer made it gradually backslide; but in any case it declined
till it was neither cold nor hot. Lest we should ever get into
such a state, and lest we should be in that state now, I pray
that my discourse may come with power to the hearts of all
present, but especially to the consciences of the members of my
own church. May God grant that it may tend to the arousing of us
all.
I. My first point will be THE STATE INTO
WHICH CHURCHES ARE VERY APT TO FALL. A church may fall into a
condition far other than that for which it has a repute. It
may be famous for zeal and yet be lethargic. The address of our
Lord begins, "I know thy works," as much as to say,
"Nobody else knows you. Men think better of you than you
deserve. You do not know yourselves, you think your works to be
excellent; but I know them to be very different." Jesus
views with searching eyes all the works of his church. The public
can only read reports, but Jesus sees for himself. He knows what
is done, and how it is done, and why it is done. He judges a
church not merely by her external activities, but by her internal
pieties; he searches the heart, and tries the reins of the
children of men. He is not deceived by glitter; he tests all
things, and values only that gold which will endure the fire. Our
opinion of ourselves and Christ's opinion of us may be very
different, and it is a very sad thing when it is so. It will be
melancholy indeed if we stand out as a church notable for
earnestness and distinguished for success, and yet are not really
fervent in spirit, or eager in soul-winning. A lack of vital
energy where there seems to be most strength put forth, a lack of
real love to Jesus where apparently there is the greatest
devotedness to him, are sad signs of fearful degeneracy. Churches
are very apt to put the best goods into the window, very apt to
make a fair show in the flesh, and like men of the world, they
try to make a fine figure upon a very slender estate. Great
reputations have often but slender foundations, and lovers of the
truth lament that it should be so. Not only is it true of
churches, but of every one of us as individuals, that often our
reputation is in advance of our deserts. Men often live on their
former credit, and trade upon their past characters, having still
a name to live, though they are indeed dead. To be slandered is a
dire affliction, but it is, upon the whole, a less evil than to
be thought better than we are; in the one case we have a promise
to comfort us, in the second we are in danger of self-conceit. I
speak as unto wise men, judge ye how far this may apply to us.
The condition described in our text is,
secondly, one of mournful indifference and carelessness. They
were not cold, but they were not hot; they were not infidels, yet
they were not earnest believers; they did not oppose the gospel,
neither did they defend it; they were not working mischief,
neither were they doing any great good; they were not
disreputable in moral character, but they were not distinguished
for holiness; they were not irreligious, but they were not
enthusiastic in piety nor eminent for zeal: they were what the
world calls "Moderates," they were of the Broad-church
school, they were neither bigots nor Puritans, they were prudent
and avoided fanaticism, respectable and averse to excitement.
Good things were maintained among them, but they did not make too
much of them; they had prayer-meetings, but there were few
present, for they liked quiet evenings at home: when more
attended the meetings they were still very dull, for they did
their praying very deliberately and were afraid of being too
excited. They were content to have all things done decently and
in order, but vigour and zeal they considered to be vulgar. Such
churches have schools, Bible-classes, preaching rooms, and all
sorts of agencies; but they might as well be without them, for no
energy is displayed and no good comes of them. They have deacons
and elders who are excellent pillars of the church, if the chief
quality of pillars be to stand still, and exhibit no motion or
emotion. They have ministers who may be the angels of the
churches, but if so, they have their wings closely clipped, for
they do not fly very far in preaching the everlasting gospel, and
they certainly are not flames of fire: they may be shining lights
of eloquence, but they certainly are not burning lights of grace,
setting men's hearts on fire. In such communities everything is
done in a half-hearted, listless, dead-and-alive way, as if it
did not matter much whether it was done or not. It makes one's
flesh creep to see how sluggishly they move: I long for a knife
to cut their red tape to pieces, and for a whip to lay about
their shoulders to make them bestir themselves. Things are
respectably done, the rich families are not offended, the
sceptical party is conciliated, and the good people are not quite
alienated: things are made pleasant all round. The right things
are done, but as to doing them with all your might, and soul, and
strength, a Laodicean church has no notion of what that means.
They are not so cold as to abandon their work, or to give up
their meetings for prayer, or to reject the gospel; if they did
so, then they could be convinced of their error and brought to
repentance; but on the other hand they are neither hot for the
truth, nor hot for conversions, nor hot for holiness, they are
not fiery enough to burn the stubble of sin, nor zealous enough
to make Satan angry, nor fervent enough to make a living
sacrifice of themselves upon the altar of their God. They are
"neither cold not hot."
This is a horrible state, because it is
one which in a church wearing a good repute renders that
reputation a lie. When other churches are saying, "See how
they prosper! see what they do for God!" Jesus sees that the
church is doing his work in a slovenly, make-believe manner, and
he considers justly that it is deceiving its friends. If the
world recognizes such a people as being very distinctly an
old-fashioned puritanic church, and yet there is unholy living
among them, and careless walking, and a deficiency of real piety,
prayer, liberality, and zeal, then the world itself is being
deceived, and that too in the worst way, because it is led to
judge falsely concerning Christianity, for it lays all these
faults upon the back of religion, and cries out, "It is all
a farce! The thing is a mere pretence! Christians are all
hypocrites!" I fear there are churches of this sort. God
grant we may not be numbered with them!
In this state of the church there is much
self-glorification, for Laodicea said, "I am rich and
increased with goods, and have need of nothing." The members
say, "Everything goes on well, what more do we want? All is
right with us." This makes such a condition very hopeless,
because reproofs and rebukes fall without power, where the party
rebuked can reply, "We do not deserve your censures, such
warnings are not meant for us." If you stand up in the
pulpit and talk to sleepy churches, as I pretty frequently do,
and speak very plainly, they often have the honesty to say,
"There is a good deal of truth in what the man has
said": but if I speak to another church, which really is
half asleep, but which thinks itself to be quite a model of
diligence, then the rebuke glides off like oil down a slab of
marble, and no result comes of it. Men are less likely to repent
when they are in the middle passage between hot and cold, than if
they were in the worst extremes of sin. If they were like Saul of
Tarsus, enemies of God, they might be converted; but if, like Gamaliel, they are neither opposed nor
favouring, they will
probably remain as they are till they die. The gospel converts a
sincerely superstitious Luther, but Erasmus, with his pliant
spirit, flippant, and full of levity, remains unmoved. There is
more hope of warning the cold than the lukewarm.
When churches get into the condition of
half-hearted faith, tolerating the gospel, but having a sweet
tooth for error, they do far more mischief to their age than
downright heretics.
It is harder a great deal to work for
Jesus with a church which is lukewarm than it would be to begin
without a church. Give me a dozen earnest spirits and put me down
anywhere in London, and by God's good help we will soon cause the
wilderness and the solitary place to rejoice; but give me the
whole lot of you, half-hearted, undecided, and unconcerned, what
can I do? You will only be a drag upon a man's zeal and
earnestness. Five thousand members of a church all lukewarm will
be five thousand impediments, but a dozen earnest, passionate
spirits, determined that Christ shall be glorified and souls won,
must be more than conquerors; in their very weakness and fewness
will reside capacities for being the more largely blessed of God.
Better nothing than lukewarmness.
Alas, this state of lukewarmness is so
congenial with human nature that it is hard to fetch men from it.
Cold makes us shiver, and great heat causes us pain, but a tepid
bath is comfort itself. Such a temperature suits human nature.
The world is always at peace with a lukewarm church, and such a
church is always pleased with itself. Not too worldly, no! We
have our limits! There are certain amusements which of course a
Christian must give up, but we will go quite up to the line, for
why are we to be miserable? We are not to be so greedy as to be
called miserly, but we will give as little as we can to the
cause. We will not be altogether absent from the house of God,
but we will go as seldom as we can. We will not altogether
forsake the poor people to whom we belong, but we will also go to
the world's church, so as to get admission into better society,
and find fashionable friends for our children. How much of this
there is abroad! Compromise is the order of the day. Thousands
try to hold with the hare and run with the hounds, they are for
God and Mammon, Christ and Belial, truth and error, and so are
"neither hot nor cold." Do I speak somewhat strongly?
Not so strongly as my Master, for he says, "I will spue thee
out of my mouth." He is nauseated with such conduct, it
sickens him, and he will not endure it. In an earnest, honest,
fervent heart nausea is created when we fall in with men who dare
not give up their profession, and yet will not live up to it; who
cannot altogether forsake the work of God, but yet do it in a
sluggard's manner, trifling with that which ought to be done in
the best style for so good a Lord and so gracious a Saviour. Many
a church has fallen into a condition of indifference, and when it
does so it generally becomes the haunt of worldly professors, a
refuge for people who want an easy religion, which enables them
to enjoy the pleasures of sin and the honours of piety at the
same time; where things are free and easy, where you are not
expected to do much, or give much, or pray much, or to be very
religious; where the minister is not so precise as the old school
divines, a more liberal people, of broad views, free-thinking and
free-acting, where there is full tolerance for sin, and no demand
for vital godliness. Such churches applaud cleverness in a
preacher; as for his doctrine, that is of small consequence, and
his love to Christ and zeal for souls are very secondary. He is a
clever fellow, and can speak well, and that suffices. This style
of things is all too common, yet we are expected to hold our
tongue, for the people are very respectable. The Lord grant that
we may be kept clear of such respectability!
We have already said that this
condition of indifference is attended with perfect
self-complacency. The people who ought to be mourning are
rejoicing, and where they should hang out signals of distress
they are flaunting the banners of triumph. "We are rich, we
are adding to our numbers, enlarging our schools, and growing on
all sides; we have need of nothing. What can a church require
that we have not in abundance?" Yet their spiritual needs
are terrible. This is a sad state for a church to be in.
Spiritually poor and proud. A church crying out to God because it
feels itself in a backsliding state; a church mourning its
deficiency, a church pining and panting to do more for Christ, a
church burning with zeal for God, and therefore quite
discontented with what it has been able to do; this is the church
which God will bless: but that which writes itself down as a
model for others, is very probably grossly mistaken and is in a
sad plight. This church, which was so rich in its own esteem, was
utterly bankrupt in the sight of the Lord. It had no real joy in
the Lord; it had mistaken its joy in itself for that. It had no
real beauty of holiness upon it; it had mistaken its formal
worship and fine building and harmonious singing for that. It had
no deep understanding of the truth and no wealth of vital
godliness, it had mistaken carnal wisdom and outward profession
for those precious things. It was poor in secret prayer, which is
the strength of any church; it was destitute of communion with
Christ, which is the very life blood of religion; but it had the
outward semblance of these blessings, and walked in a vain show.
There are churches which are poor as Lazarus as to true religion,
and yet are clothed in scarlet and fare sumptuously every day
upon the mere form of godliness. Spiritual leanness exists side
by side with vain-glory. Contentment as to worldly goods makes
men rich, but contentment with our spiritual condition is the
index of poverty.
Once more, this church of Laodicea had
fallen into a condition which had chased away its Lord.
The text tells us that Jesus said, "I stand at the door and
knock." That is not the position which our Lord occupies in
reference to a truly flourishing church. If we are walking aright
with him, he is in the midst of the church, dwelling there, and
revealing himself to his people. His presence makes our worship
to be full of spirituality and life; he meets his servants at the
table, and there spreads them a feast upon his body and his
blood; it is he who puts power and energy into all our
church-action, and causes the word to sound out from our midst.
True saints abide in Jesus and he in them. Oh, brethren, when the
Lord is in a church, it is a happy church, a holy church, a
mighty church, and a triumphant church; but we may grieve him
till he will say, "I will go and return to my place, until
they acknowledge their offence and seek my face." Oh, you
that know my Lord, and have power with him, entreat him not to go
away from us. He can see much about us as a people which grieves
his Holy Spirit, much about any one of us to provoke him to
anger. Hold him, I pray you, and do not let him go, or if he be
gone, bring him again to his mother's house, into the chamber of
her that bare him, where, with holy violence, we will detain him
and say, "Abide with us, for thou art life and joy, and all
in all to us as a church. Ichabod is written across our house if
thou be gone, for thy presence is our glory and thy absence will
be our shame." Churches may become like the temple when the
glory of the Lord had left the holy place, because the image of
jealousy was set up and the house was defiled. What a solemn
warning is that which is contained in Jeremiah 7:12-15, "But
go ye now unto my place which was in Shiloh, where I set my name
at the first, and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my
people Israel. And now, because ye have done all these works,
saith the Lord, and I spake unto you, rising up early and
speaking, but ye heard not; and I called you, but ye answered
not; therefore I will do unto this house, which is called by my
name, wherein ye trust, and unto the place which I gave to you
and to your fathers, as I have done to Shiloh. And I will cast
you out of my sight, as I have cast out all your brethren, even
the whole seed of Ephraim."
II. Now let us consider, secondly, THE
DANGER OF SUCH A STATE. The great danger is, first, to be
rejected of Christ. He puts it, "I will spue thee out of
my mouth," as disgusting him, and causing him nausea. Then
the church must first be in his mouth, or else it could not be
spued from it. What does this mean? Churches are in Christ's
mouth in several ways, they are used by him as his testimony to
the world; he speaks to the world through their lives and
ministries. He does as good as say, "O sinners, if ye would
see what my religion can do, see here a godly people banded
together in my fear and love, walking in peace and
holiness." He speaks powerfully by them, and makes the world
see and know that there is a true power in the gospel of the
grace of God. But when the church becomes neither cold nor hot he
does not speak by her, she is no witness for him. When God is
with a church the minister's words come out of Christ's mouth.
"Out of his mouth went a two-edged sword," says John in
the Revelation, and that "two-edged sword" is the
gospel which we preach. When God is with a people they speak with
divine power to the world, but if we grow lukewarm Christ says,
"Their teachers shall not profit, for I have not sent them,
neither am I with them. Their word shall be as water spilt on the
ground, or as the whistling of the wind." This is a dreadful
thing. Better far for me to die than to be spued out of Christ's
mouth.
Then he also ceases to plead for such a
church. Christ's special intercession is not for all men, for he
says of his people, "I pray for them: I pray not for the
world, but for them which thou hast given me." But there are
churches for which he is pleading, for he has said, "For
Zion's sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's sake I
will not rest, until the righteousness thereof go forth as
brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that burneth." Mighty are his pleadings for those he really
loves, and countless are the blessings which comes in
consequence. It will be an evil day when he casts a church out of
that interceding mouth, and leaves her unrepresented before the
throne because he is none of his. Do you not tremble at such a
prospect? Will you not ask for grace to return to your first
love? I know that the Lord Jesus will never leave off praying for
his own elect, but for churches as corporate bodies he may cease
to pray, because they become anti-Christian, or are mere human
gatherings, but not elect assemblies, such as the church of God
ought to be. Now this is the danger of any church if it declines
from its first ardour and becomes lukewarm. "Remember
therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do thy
first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will
remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou
repent."
What is the other danger? This first
comprehends all, but another evil is hinted at, such a church
will be left to its fallen condition, to become wretched,
that is to say, miserable, unhappy, divided, without the presence
of God, and so without delight in the ways of God, lifeless,
spiritless, dreary, desolate, full of schisms, devoid of grace,
and I know not what beside, that may come under the term
"wretched." Then the next word is
"miserable," which might better be rendered
"pitiable." Churches which once were a glory shall
become a shame. Whereas men said, "The Lord has done great
things for them," they shall now say, "see how low they
have fallen! What a change has come over the place! What
emptiness and wretchedness! What a blessing rested there for so
many years, but what a contrast now!" Pity will take the
place of congratulation, and scorn will follow upon admiration.
Then it will be "poor" in membership, poor in effort,
poor in prayer, poor in gifts and graces, poor in everything.
Perhaps some rich people will be left to keep up the semblance of
prosperity, but all will be empty, vain, void, Christless,
lifeless. Philosophy will fill the pulpit with chaff, the church
will be a mass of worldliness, the congregation an assembly of
vanity. Next, they will become blind, they will not see
themselves as they are, they will have no eye upon the
neighborhood to do it good, no eye to the coming of Christ, no
eye for his glory. They will say, "We see," and yet be
blind as bats. Ultimately they will become "naked,"
their shame will be seen by all, they will be a proverb in
everybody's mouth. "Call that a church!" says one.
"Is that a church of Jesus Christ?" cries a second.
Those dogs that dared not open their mouths against Israel when
the Lord was there will begin to howl when he is gone, and
everywhere will the sound be heard, "How are the mighty
fallen, how are the weapons of war broken."
In such a case as that the church will fail
of overcoming, for it is "to him that overcometh"
that a seat upon Christ's throne is promised; but that church
will come short of victory. It shall be written concerning it
even as of the children of Ephraim, that being armed and carrying
bows they turned their backs in the day of battle. "Ye did
run well," says Paul to the Galatians, "what did hinder
you that ye should not obey the truth?" Such a church had a
grand opportunity, but it was not equal to the occasion, its
members were born for a great work, but inasmuch as they were
unfaithful, God put them aside and used other means. He raised up
in their midst a flaming testimony for the gospel, and the light
thereof was cast athwart the ocean, and gladdened the nations,
but the people were not worthy of it, or true to it, and
therefore he took the candlestick out of its place, and left them
in darkness. May God prevent such an evil from coming upon us:
but such is the danger to all churches if they degenerate into
listless indifference.
III. Thirdly, I have to speak of THE
REMEDIES WHICH THE LORD EMPLOYS. I do earnestly pray that what I
say may come home to all here, especially to every one of the
members of this church, for it has come very much home to me, and
caused great searching of heart in my own soul, and yet I do not
think I am the least zealous among you. I beseech you to judge
yourselves, that you be not judged. Do not ask me if I mean
anything personal. I am personal in the most emphatic sense. I
speak of you and to you in the plainest way. Some
of you show plain symptoms of being lukewarm, and God forbid that
I should flatter you, or be unfaithful to you. I am aiming at
personality, and I earnestly want each beloved brother and sister
here to take home each affectionate rebuke. And you who come from
other churches, whether in America or elsewhere, you want
arousing quite as much as we do, your churches are not better
than ours, some of them are not so good, and I speak to you also,
for you need to be stirred up to nobler things.
Note, then, the first remedy. Jesus gives
a clear discovery as to the church's true state. He says
to it "Thou are lukewarm, thou art wretched and miserable,
and poor, and blind, and naked." I rejoice to see people
willing to know the truth, but most men do not wish to know it,
and this is an ill sign. When a man tells you that he has not
looked at his ledger, or day-book, or held a stock-taking for
this twelvemonths, you know whereabouts he is, and you say to
your manager, "Have you an account with him? Then keep it as
close as you can." When a man dares not know the worst about
his case, it is certainly a bad one, but he that is right before
God is thankful to be told what he is and where he is. Now, some
of you know the faults of other people, and in watching this
church you have observed weak points in many places - have you
wept over them? Have you prayed over them? If not, you have not
watched as you should do for the good of your brethren and
sisters, and, perhaps, have allowed evils to grow which ought to
have been rooted up: you have been silent when you should have
kindly and earnestly spoken to the offenders, or made your own
example a warning to them. Do not judge your brother, but judge
yourself: if you have any severity, use it on your own conduct
and heart. We must pray the Lord to use this remedy, and make us
know just where we are. We shall never get right as long as we
are confident that we are so already. Self-complacency is the
death of repentance.
Our Lord's next remedy is gracious
counsel. He says, "I counsel thee to buy of me gold
tried in the fire." Does not that strike you as being very
like the passage in Isaiah, "Come ye, buy, and eat; yea,
come, buy wine and milk without money and without price?" It
is so, and it teaches us that one remedy for lukewarmness is to
begin again just as we began at first. We were at a high
temperature at our first conversion. What joy, what peace, what
delight, what comfort, what enthusiasm we had when first we knew
the Lord! We bought gold of him then for nothing, let us go and
buy again at the same price.
If religion has not been genuine with us
till now, or if we have been adding to it great lumps of shining
stuff which we thought was gold and was not, let us now go to the
heavenly mint and buy gold tried in the fire, that we may be
really rich. Come, let us begin again, each one of us. Inasmuch
as we may have thought we were clothed and yet we were naked, let
us hasten to him again, and at his own price, which is no price,
procure the robe which he has wrought of his own righteousness,
and that goodly raiment of his Spirit, which will clothe us with
the beauty of the Lord. If, moreover, we have come to be rather
dim in the eye, and no longer look up to God and see his face,
and have no bright vision of the glory to be revealed, and cannot
look on sinners with weeping eyes, as we once did, let us go to
Jesus for the eye-salve, just as we went when we were stone blind
at first, and the Lord will open our eyes again, and we shall
behold him in clear vision as in days gone by. The word from
Jesus is, "Come near to me, I pray you, my brethren. If you
have wandered from me, return; if you have been cold to me I am
not cold to you, my heart is the same to you as ever, come back
to me, my brethren. Confess your evil deeds, receive my
forgiveness, and henceforth let your hearts burn towards me, for
I love you still and will supply all your needs." That is
good counsel, let us take it.
Now comes a third remedy, sharp and
cutting, but sent in love, namely, rebukes and chastenings.
Christ will have his favoured church walk with great care, and if
she will not follow him fully by being shown wherein she has
erred, and will not repent when kindly counselled, he then
betakes himself to some sharper means. "As many as I love I
rebuke and chasten." The word here used for "love"
is a very choice one; it is one which signifies an intense
personal affection. Now, there are some churches which Christ
loves very specially, favouring them above others, doing more for
them than for others, and giving them more prosperity; they are
the darlings of his heart, his Benjamins. Now, it is a very
solemn thing to be dearly loved by God. It is a privilege to be
coveted, but mark you, the man who is so honoured occupies a
position of great delicacy. The Lord thy God is a jealous God,
and he is most jealous where he shows most love. The Lord lets
some men escape scot free for awhile after doing many evil
things, but if they had been his own elect he would have visited
them with stripes long before. He is very jealous of those whom
he has chosen to lean upon his bosom and to be his familiar
friends. Your servant may do many things which could not be
thought of by your child or your wife; and so is it with many who
profess to be servants of God they live a very lax life, and they
do not seem to be chastened for it, but if they were the Lord's
own peculiarly beloved ones he would not endure such conduct from
them. Now mark this, if the Lord exalts a church, and gives it a
special blessing, he expects more of it, more care of his honour,
and more zeal for his glory than he does of any other church; and
when he does not find it, what will happen? Why, because of his
very love he will rebuke it with hard sermons, sharp words, and
sore smitings of conscience. If these do not arouse it he will
take down the rod and deal out chastenings. Do you know how the
Lord chastens churches? Paul says, "For this cause some are
sickly among you, and many sleep." Bodily sickness is often
sent in discipline upon churches, and losses, and crosses, and
troubles are sent among the members, and sometimes leanness in
the pulpit, breakings out of heresy and divisions in the pew, and
lack of success in all church work. All these are smitings with
the rod. It is very sad, but sometimes that rod does not fall on
that part of the church which does the wrong. Sometimes God may
take the best in the church, and chasten them for the wrong of
others. You say, "How can that be right?" Why, because
they are the kind of people who will be most benefited by it. If
a vine wants the knife, it is not the branch that bears very
little fruit which is trimmed, but the branch which bears much
fruit is purged because it is worth purging. In their case the
chastening is a blessing and a token of love. Sorrow is often
brought upon Christians by the sins of their fellow-members, and
many an aching heart there is in this world that I know of, of
brethren and sisters who love the Lord and want to see souls
converted, but they can only sigh and cry because nothing is
done. Perhaps they have a minister who does not believe the
gospel, and they have fellow-members who do not care whether the
minister believes it or not, they are all asleep together except
those few zealous souls who besiege the throne of grace day and
night, and they are the ones who bear the burden of the lukewarm
church. Oh, if the chastening comes here, whoever bears it, may
the whole body be the better for it, and may we never rest till
the church begins to glow with the sacred fire of God, and boil
with enthusiastic desire for his glory.
The last remedy, however, is the best of
all to my mind. I love it best and desire to make it my food when
it is not my medicine. The best remedy for backsliding churches
is more communion with Christ. "Behold," saith
he, "I stand at the door and knock." I have known this
text preached upon to sinners numbers of times as though Christ
knocked at their door and they had to open it, and so on. The
preacher has never managed to keep to free grace for this reason,
that the text was not meant to be so used, and if men will ride a
text the wrong way, it will not go. This text belongs to the
church of God, not to the unconverted. It is addressed to the
Laodicean church. There is Christ outside the church, driven
there by her unkindness, but he has not gone far away, he loves
his church too much to leave her altogether, he longs to come
back, and therefore he waits at the doorpost. He knows that the
church will never be restored till he comes back, and he desires
to bless her, and so he stands waiting, knocking and knocking,
again and again; he does not merely knock once, but he stands
knocking by earnest sermons, by providences, by impressions upon
the conscience, by the quickenings of his Holy Spirit; and while
he knocks he speaks, he uses all means to awaken his church. Most
condescendingly and graciously does he do this, for having
threatened to spue her out of his mouth, he might have said,
"I will get me gone; and I will never come back again to
thee," that would have been natural and just; but how
gracious he is when, having expressed his disgust he says,
"Disgusted as I am with your condition, I do not wish to
leave you; I have taken my presence from you, but I love you, and
therefore I knock at your door, and wish to be received into your
heart. I will not force myself upon you, I want you voluntarily
to open the door to me." Christ's presence in a church is
always a very tender thing. He never is there against the will of
the church, it cannot be, for he lives in his people's wills and
hearts, and "worketh in them to will and to do of his own
good pleasure." He does not break bolt and bar and come in
as he often does into a sinner's heart, carrying the soul by
storm, because the man is dead in sin, and Christ must do it all,
or the sinner will perish; but he is here speaking to living men
and women, who ought also to be loving men and women, and he
says, "I wish to be among you, open the door to me." We
ought to open the door at once, and say, "Come in, good
Lord, we grieve to think we should ever have put thee outside
that door at all."
And then see what promises he gives. He
says he will come and sup with us. Now, in the East, the supper
was the best meal of the day, it was the same as our dinner; so
that we may say that Christ will come and dine with us. He will
give us a rich feast, for he himself is the daintiest and most
plenteous of all feasts for perishing souls. He will come and sup
with us, that is, we shall be the host and entertain him: but
then he adds, "and he with me," that is, he will be the
host and guest by turns. We will give him of our best, but poor
fare is that, too poor for him, and yet he will partake of it.
Then he shall be host, and we will be guest, and oh, how we will
feast on what he gives! Christ comes, and brings the supper with
him, and all we do is to find the room. The Master says to us,
"Where is the guest chamber?" and then he makes ready
and spreads his royal table. Now, if these be the terms on which
we are to have a feast together, we will most willingly fling
open the doors of our hearts and say, "Come in, good
Lord." He says to you, "Children, have you any
meat?" and if you are obliged to say, "No, Lord,"
he will come in unto you none the less readily, for there are the
fish, the net is ready to break, it is so full, and here are more
upon the coals ready. I warrant you, if we sup with him, we shall
be lukewarm no longer. The men who live where Jesus is soon feel
their hearts burning. It is said of a piece of scented clay by
the old Persian moralist that the clay was taken up and
questioned. "How camest thou to smell so sweetly, being
nothing but common clay?" and it replied, "I laid for
many a year in the sweet society of a rose, until at last I drank
in its perfume"; and we may say to every warm-hearted
Christian, "How camest thou so warm?" and his answer
will be, "My heart bubbleth up with a good matter, for I
speak of the things which I have made touching the King. I have
been with Jesus, and I have learned of him."
Now, brethren and sisters, what can I say
to move you to take this last medicine? I can only say, take it,
not only because of the good it will do you, but because of the
sweetness of it. I have heard say of some persons that they were
pledged not to take wine except as a medicine, but then they were
very pleased when they were ill: and so if this be the medicine,
"I will come and sup with him, and he with me," we may
willingly confess our need of so delicious a remedy. Need I press
it on you? May I not rather urge each brother as soon as he gets
home today to see whether he cannot enter into fellowship with
Jesus? and may the Spirit of God help him!
This is my closing word, there is
something for us to do in this matter. We must examine ourselves,
and we must confess the fault if we have declined in grace. And
then we must not talk about setting the church right, we must
pray for grace each one for himself, for the text does not say,
"If the church will open the door," but "If any
man hear my voice and open the door." It must be done by
individuals: the church will only get right by each man getting
right. Oh, that we might get back into an earnest zeal for our
Lord's love and service, and we shall only do so by listening to
his rebukes, and then falling into his arms, clasping him once
again, and saying, "My Lord and my God." That healed
Thomas, did it not? Putting his fingers into the print of the
nails, putting his hand into the side, that cured him. Poor,
unbelieving, staggering Thomas only had to do that and he became
one of the strongest of believers, and said, "My Lord and my
God." You will love your Lord till your soul is as coals of
juniper if you will daily commune with him. Come close to him,
and once getting close to him, never go away from him any more.
The Lord bless you, dear brethren, the Lord bless you in this
thing.
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