"But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil."- Hebrews 5:14

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Edward D. Griffin Resources



More sermons by Edward D. Griffin at the www.puritansermons.com HERE
Sermons there include "When I Was A Child"; "Heaven"; "Enoch Walked With God"

Google books:
Sermons by the Late Rev. Edward D. Griffin, D.D. volume 1 HERE
Sermons by the Late Rev. Edward D. Griffin D. D. volume 2 HERE

Fifty-Four Plain Practical Sermons by the Late Edward D. Griffin, D.D. HERE

Sermons, Not Before Published, on Various Practical Subjects by the Late Edward D. Griffin HERE
(apparently another version of the previous book)

Griffin is included in the list of preachers in the book Sketches of Eloquent Preachers

A growing Youtube playlist of his sermons turned into audio using a text-to-speech program can be listened to HERE.

The Tender Mercies Of God by Edward D. Griffin





The Tender Mercies Of God






"I will mention the loving kindnesses of the Lord and the praises of the Lord, according to all that the Lord hath bestowed on us, and the great goodness towards the house of Israel which he hath bestowed on them, according to his mercies, and according to the multitude of his loving kindnesses." Isaiah 63:7.

The prophet, when he uttered these words, appeared to labor under an ineffable sense of the tender mercies and loving kindnesses of his God. He had been contemplating the wrath with which God would one day visit Edom when he should come to deliver his people from her oppressions. Immediately he raises an interesting contrast and sets before his eyes God's "great goodness towards the house of Israel" in loosing their Egyptian bonds and conducting them through the wilderness. In this type as through a glass, he discovered the wondrous love which redeems the Church from more oppressive chains, and supports her in her journey to the heavenly rest. Under this view he seemed transported, and in his rapture exclaimed, "I will mention the loving kindnesses of the Lord and the praises of the Lord, according to all that the Lord hath bestowed on us, and the great goodness towards the house of Israel which he hath bestowed on them, according to his mercies, and according to the multitude of his loving kindnesses."

Though we should not raise our eyes to the exalted love which shines in the Gospel, still we should have abundant reason to mention the loving kindnesses of the Lord. Without any adviser or helper he introduced us to rational existence, and raised us to intellectual enjoyment. By his unceasing care, that existence is hourly supported. Our table is furnished and our raiment supplied by his benign hand. We are blest with pleasant habitations and possessions; we enjoy the delights of refined society, the blessings of friendship, and the life and happiness of our friends. Our health is sustained by a thousand minute and constantly repeated touches of his hand to the various parts of our complicated machine. All the pleasures of imagination, of memory, of hope, of sympathy, and of sense; all the magic charms which play on nature's face, are the gifts of his bounteous hand. By his watchful care we are protected from countless visible and unseen dangers. By innumerable impressions made on our animal spirits by his careful touch, we are put in tone to enjoy the objects around us. More numerous are his mercies than the stars which look out of heaven. On no section of our life,—on no point of nature's works,—scarcely on a circumstance in our relations to society, can we fix our eyes, without seeing "the loving kindnesses of the Lord." But when we lift our thoughts to his "great goodness towards the house of Israel," our souls faint under the labor of expressing the praise we owe. Redeeming grace most fully displays the richness and extent of his loving kindnesses; redeeming grace was the theme which transported the author of our text; and redeeming grace shall be the subject of this discourse.

To discover the heights or to fathom the depths of this grace, exceeds the power of men or angels; yet the view perhaps may be enlightened by some of the following reflections.

In purposing and planning the great work of redemption, the Eternal Mind was self-moved, uncounselled, unsolicited. No angel interceded or advised; no man by his prayers or tears excited pity. Before men or angels had existence, the purpose was fixed and the plan was formed by boundless love, unmoved, unasked, untempted by any thing without but the foreseen miseries of a perishing world.

This love was wholly disinterested, having no reward in view but the pleasure of doing good. What other recompense could God expect from creatures who have nothing to give but what they receive? What other reward could eternal self-sufficience need?

This love is still more sublime considered as acting towards inferiors. When love is not the most pure, we daily see, it will overlook those who have no eminence to engage respect. On this account the condescending regard which some benevolent prince may pay to the poor and forsaken, is peculiarly affecting. What then shall we say when we behold Infinite Majesty descending to such tender concern for dust and ashes?

Redeeming love is still more wonderful as exercised towards enemies; towards those who could reject the offered salvation,—who were not to be moved by all the entreaties of heaven,—and who had malice enough to murder the Author of life in the very act of bringing it to them.

This love appears altogether astonishing when we consider the greatness of the sacrifice it made. That God himself, (infinite, eternal, and self-sufficient as he was,) should bring himself down to a mortal form; that he who made the heavens should descend from among the adorations of angels to assume the form of a servant and to receive the spittings of Roman soldiers; that he should exchange the quiet of eternal repose for a laborious life, the abodes of inaccessible light for the degrading manger,—the society of the Father and Spirit for that of illiterate fishermen,—the heights of infinite bliss for the agonies of Gethsemane and Golgotha;—and all to atone for abuses which he himself had received from men; fixes angels in astonishment and rivets their eyes to him who still bears the prints of the nails and the spear. That this divine Sufferer did not recede, but remained immovable in his purpose in a near view of his agonies; that he did not strike and rivet his insulting murderers to the centre, but spent his expiring breath in prayer for their life; evinces, not love only, but love unconquerable.

The extent of redeeming love further appears in the magnitude of the blessings which it intended for a ruined race. It stooped to catch a falling world; to snatch them from eternal flames to the transports of immortal life,—from everlasting contempt to be "kings and priests" forever "unto God" —to raise them from the depravity of sin to the purity of the divine image,—from a dungeon to the radiance of heaven,—from the society of devils to communion with angels,—from the blasphemies of hell to the songs of paradise,—from universal destitution to inherit all riches,—to be sons and heirs of God, members of the Redeemer's body,—to live in his family and heart, and forever to expand in the regions of light and life.

This mercy is heightened by the fact that the Saviour is so necessary, reasonable, and all-sufficient. Intrusted with all the offices needful for man's redemption, he possesses powers fully adequate to the infinite work, and exerts them when and where they are most needed. It is his stated business to strike off the chains from wretched prisoners,—to administer balm to those who are wounded to death, food to those who are perishing with hunger,—eyes and light to the blind and benighted. He is the "shadow of a great rock in a weary land," — "a hiding place from the wind and a covert from the tempest." In his prophetic office he brings out to view the secrets of the Eternal Mind: as a Priest he pacifies divine wrath by atonement and intercession: as a King he subdues the stubborn will, marks out the road to life by salutary precepts, defends from spiritual enemies, and renders all events subservient to the good of his people. As Captain of the Lord's host he will carry them through their warfare and bring them off victorious. As Physician of souls he will heal all their spiritual maladies and confirm them in immortal health. He is a most pleasant resting place from the perturbations of guilt, the vexations of care, and the anguish of affliction. Possessing inexhaustible life in himself, he is the source of unfailing life to his members, who before were "dead in trespasses and sins." As "Heir of all things" and Distributer of the whole estate, he has every necessary good to impart in this world and infinite riches in the world to come.

This mercy is still further heightened by the patience and condescending tenderness which he exercises towards his people. He calls them his friends, his brethren, his children, his spouse, the members of his body, the apple of his eye. In the character of a near and tender relation, he has become a mild medium through which they may look up into the insufferable splendors of the Godhead without dazzling or paining their sight. Although the awful God of majesty, he is not ashamed to own and befriend a poor race of unsightly outcasts and to take them into union with himself. With unconquerable patience he bears with all their provocations, and with unfailing faithfulness remains their friend during all their perverseness and ingratitude. Though their returns are such as would weary any other love, he is still engaged in pardoning their sins, subduing their corruptions, and conducting them to glory. As a tender shepherd he gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them in his bosom. And O with what overpowering kindness does he speak to them when he holds communion with them, when he meets them in a happy hour as they are walking out like Isaac to meditate at the evening tide, and drawing aside the veil, shows the sweetest countenance dressed in celestial smiles; or when finding them bowed to the earth and drenched in tears, he gently raises them in his arms, and with more than a mother's tenderness wipes the sorrows from their cheeks and breathes ineffable consolation into their spirits. Ye who have known his love, can witness the ineffable sweetness with which he manifests himself at such seasons. In his providence he takes care to suffer no real evil to befall his people, to withhold from them no real good, and to make them the happier for every event. And when this trying life is past, he will receive them to his own presence, to a near and ever increasing union to himself, where love perfect and reciprocal shall hold immortal reign.

This wondrous mercy is further expressed in the gift of sabbaths and sacraments, and especially the written word. When we perceive the breathings of divine love in those precious Scriptures which were inspired by the Holy Ghost; when the soul lies at some divine promise, drinking in immortal refreshment, and filling itself as from some celestial spring, O how rich and vast does the love of God appear.

Fresh evidences of this love spring up at every review of his past providence towards the Church. "In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them, and he bore them and carried them all the days of old." The preservation of Noah in the ark, the call and protection of Abraham, the deliverance of the Church from Egypt, its support in the wilderness and establishment in Canaan, the numerous deliverances wrought for Israel, their restoration from Babylon, the establishment and astonishing growth of the Christian Church, its protection during the successive persecutions, and the continued efforts of the Spirit to preserve and enlarge it, are all monuments of amazing love and faithfulness. And when we cast our eyes down the slope of ages and behold the glory of Zion filling all the earth, how do we dance as in fancied visions and think the bliss too great to be real. And then, when we open the Scriptures and behold a "Thus saith the Lord" expressly to confirm our hopes, with what rapturous gratitude do we make our boast of him; "Lo this is our God, we have waited for him and he will save us: this is the Lord, we have waited for him, we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation."

All these are the more affecting as being marks of distinguishing love. Redeeming grace passed by the fallen angels to bring salvation to men. The privileges of Gospel light and ordinances were taken from the heathen to be given to us. The blessings of personal holiness and divine communion are conferred on the people of God while withheld from the rest of the world. Our lives are continued in a world of hope while millions are called to their last account. While God was preserving the Hebrew Church and nourishing it with a Father's care, Edom, Moab, and Ammon were given to the sword. And while angels sing only of the goodness of the Lord, the redeemed will shout "grace, grace," and with higher notes and ecstacies chant the praises of redeeming love.

The grace of God appears still greater as being abundant and free for all. The language of divine compassion is, "Ho every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat; yea come, buy wine and milk without money and without price."

Having drawn this outline of the mercies of God, I shall now present them as motives to holy feelings and practical godliness.

What admiration should possess our minds as we contemplate this wonderful love of God. Nothing in the universe is so amazing. Not an angel in heaven but lives in astonishment continually. And yet it is infinitely greater than ever Gabriel imagined. As the sublime intellects of the upper world expand, it will appear more and more amazing to eternity.

And while we wonder let gratitude fill our hearts. Of what avail is our admiration without our thanks? It would only bring us to the condition of those who gaze "and wonder and perish." What are our hearts made of if they can lie under the weight of all these obligations and be unthankful still? Let us retain a sense of divine mercies always upon our heart, and not suffer them, after a transient impression, to pass off into oblivion. Let not the blessings of former years be forgotten, but let them frequently be brought in review before us, that we may never cease to remember how much we owe to our Lord.

To lasting gratitude let lasting love be added. What infinite beauty and worth belong to Israel's God. And shall we be thankful for personal favors and not love the benevolence which embraces the universe? This would be only the contracted gratitude of a heart that can be engaged by nothing but the loaves and fishes.

Let it be our daily joy that the universe contains such a God,—a God whose happiness consists in doing good, and who is executing so vast a plan for the promotion of creature happiness, that he already realizes infinite blessedness in gratified benevolence. Let universal joy catch from heart to heart and circulate through heaven and earth that such a God lives, reigns, and is happy. Let this be our morning and our evening song. Let it break in like the dawn of day upon our gloomy hours; and like the sinking but recovered David, let us be transported with the thought, "But thou, O Lord, shalt endure forever, and thy remembrance unto all generations."

To such a God our highest praise belongs. He is the object of the incessant and rapturous praise of all the choirs of paradise, and shall men neglect their harps? In the warm transports of David's heavenly muse, let us invoke the sun and all the orbs of light, the earth and all the things thereon, the heavens and all their happy spirits, to praise the Lord,—to praise him in the heights and in the depths,—to praise him with the voice of song, and with all the varieties of instrumental harmony.

Let such a God be the supreme object of our faith, our hope, our confidence. On him let us place our dependance for every thing we need for time and eternity. Renouncing this delusive world and every idol which would rival him in our hearts, let us make him our only point of rest, our only portion. Let him be the object of our daily and cheerful worship. Let hypocrisy be banished from our religion, and let sincerity mark our worship of him whose friendship for man has been so sincere. Disclaiming all self-seeking, after his disinterested love to us, let us live only for him; and in duty to one who so greatly denied himself for us, let us largely practise self-denial. Henceforth let us consecrate ourselves to the service of him who served us in death; and by our obedience to all his commands attest the sincerity of our love and gratitude.

God forbid that we should be ashamed to confess him before men who was not ashamed to own and befriend us before his Father and the holy angels; or that we should fail to speak to a listening world of his excellent greatness and his excellent loving kindness. It becomes us to imitate his devotedness to the glory of God and the happiness of men; to put on sincere mercy and kindness, forbearing one another in love, doing good to all as we have opportunity, especially to the household of faith; condescending to men of low degree, meek and gentle to all, affable, courteous, and obliging, ready to forgive injuries, given to hospitality, and generous in distributing to the poor the gifts of a generous God.

To the dominion of enthroned love it becomes us to submit; resigning all our interests to the divine disposal, and enduring with patience and not with petulance whatever such a God is pleased to impose.

Against such a God it is that we have been found in arms. O "tell it not in Gath." Under the weight of all these obligations we have risen up to oppose unbounded love. Alas we knew not what we did. In vain might our tears and blood be applied to efface stains so ignominious and deep. Well may we go softly all our years in the bitterness of our soul. Let pride never again appear in natures capable of this. Let humility and brokenness of heart mark our future lives; and in sympathy with the publican let us smite on our guilty breasts and cry, "God be merciful to me a sinner."

And since our crimes are of so deep a die that nothing but atoning blood can wash them out, and since such infinite pains have been taken to provide a Saviour for us,—a Saviour every way suited to our wants; let us gratefully seize the offered salvation and cast ourselves on him as the only ground of hope. And then, "though" our "sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool."

Ah sinners, how long will you slight such endearing love and reject such heaven-astonishing mercy? How long shall infinite tenderness be grieved at your ingratitude? Why will you treat with abuse that excellence which angels adore? Why will you tread under foot that love which dissolves all heaven? When will you at length be wise, and for once, after so long a time, act like ingenuous creatures? Let the goodness of God lead us all to repentance, and let us spend our days in making mention of the loving kindnesses of the Lord, and in preparing to unite with the redeemed in singing, "Worthy is the lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing."

"Now ,unto him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen."


An Exhortation to Serve the Lord by Edward D. Griffin






An Exhortation to Serve the Lord






"And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all His ways and to love Him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul." Deut. 10:12.

Complaints are often made against the ministers of Christ that their preaching is too rigorous and pungent. I sincerely wish that the world might once see what discourses the eternal God would himself deliver should he undertake to preach to men. —What do I say? He has published a volume of discourses, and they have been more harshly treated than any of the sermons of his ministers. The words which I have read were taken from a sermon which God delivered in tones of awful grandeur from Mount Sinai, or else through the medium of Moses. If it seems hard to you to be required "to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways and to love him, and to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul," be it remembered that the source of this command is not ministers, but God himself. If any murmur at this, I have no controversy with them; I leave it to be settled between them and their Maker. Having often preached with little effect myself, I would now retire and leave the God of Israel to preach to you. I would stand concealed in humble awe behind him, while he delivers his heavenly instructions to the people. Sermons are often heard as the words of men. It is difficult, to a distressing degree, to produce a realizing sense that the truths we preach proceeded from the lips of God. In the present case I hope this difficulty will not be felt. Had you stood at the foot of Sinai and heard the trumpet and the thunders, and heard the words of our text issuing from the thick darkness, you would not have doubted that they came from God. But they were heard in substance by a million people, who trembled and fled as these sentiments were poured upon their ears from the burning mount. And now, after the lapse of more than three thousand years, it is still as true as ever that they proceeded from the lips of God. Receive them therefore with as much veneration as though a throne were set in this house, and the God of glory were seated on it, and these words were sounded from his divine lips. And now, my people, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul?

Who obeys this command? A part of my hearers obey it in some degree. They esteem God above every other object. They consider his glory as their highest interest, and communion with him as their supreme happiness. They would sooner forget father and mother than forget him. It is their greatest grief that their treacherous hearts are so prone to wander from him. Their most fervent desires pant after him. And when in a favored hour they find him whom their "soul loves," they hold him fast and will not let him go. I have no reproaches for these. It is our Master's will that we should speak kindly to them and encourage them in his name. But are all such? Would to God all were. But charity herself would blush should we so far profane her sacred office as to lend her sanction to such an opinion. Charity herself must fear that in such a congregation as this there are many who have never yielded any service to God. Yet in most cases it is difficult to fix the charge where it ought to lie. So superficial are men's ideas of God's service, that they often think themselves his servants merely because they have been baptised, and attend public worship, and are charitable to the poor, and free from scandalous vices. But there is no service without love. "Love is the fulfilling of the law." "Good," you say, "and I love the Lord. I should be very sorry not to love so bountiful and good a God." Do you indeed? Do you indeed? Let us see. "If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." "No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to the one and despise the other: you cannot serve God and mammon." There is no love to God which is not habitually supreme. For though love enough to give a cup of cold water constitutes a disciple, none are disciples but those who love Christ supremely. "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple."

Supreme love to God will certainly produce self denial for his sake. It will habitually avoid every thing which he has forbidden, and obey, not a part, but all his commands. He that offends "in one point," knowingly and habitually, "is guilty of all." Supreme love will seek communion with its object more than any worldly pleasure. It will pant after him and after greater conformity to him; it will seek his glory as the highest interest; it will count him the most desirable portion; it will delight in thinking of him more than in any worldly thoughts; it will delight in prayer, —will renounce the world and idols and cultivate a heavenly mind. Unless we have that which will produce all these effects, we have no supreme love to God; and if we have no supreme love, we have no love at all; and if we have no love, as there is no neutral state, we are his enemies. "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters abroad." As humiliating as the thought is, we know that no man is otherwise than God's enemy until he is born again. "The carnal mind is enmity against God." Hence it is that so many people who attend public worship and lead regular lives, are unmindful of God from day to day, neglect prayer, put eternal things out of view, and lose themselves in the eager pursuit of the world. They must be conscious, if they will but reflect, that the world engages more of their care than God or their souls, and is of course their supreme deity. They must be conscious that the Sabbath is a burden unless devoted to sloth or amusement,—that prayer is a burden,—that religious society is a burden,—that the thoughts of God which sometimes intrude are unwelcome,—that the divine service is not agreeable to their taste,—that they would rather be employed in business or pleasure than in religion, in reading an amusing story than in searching the Scriptures. Surely such people do not love God. Such minds could not be happy in heaven if admitted to the place. They must undergo a radical change or certainly they can find no happiness beyond the grave. Ah Lord God, how many such are to be found among us,—among the dearest friends of our hearts. It is distressing to look through our congregations and see how men neglect God; how they live without him in the world, —live as though there were no God. Is there no remedy for our lost brethren? Will nothing awaken them to their duty and danger? The necessity of making some attempt to rouse them is so pressing, that I trust Christians will excuse me if I turn my attention altogether to these. Let them stand by and assist me with their prayers, while I attempt to recall from death this interesting multitude.

Come, my unhappy friends, and let us reason together. Lend your whole attention while one who hopes he is a friend to both parties, makes an humble attempt to reconcile you to your Maker. It is not an enemy you hear; not one who would needlessly disturb your peace. God knows I wish you nothing but happiness in time or eternity; and if the present address might be the instrument of making you all blest, I should account this the happiest day of my life. But in what language shall I address you? What new arguments shall I set before you? The enemy of God in your breast has resisted so many sermons, that those who love you are afraid that nothing will ever avail. O when shall it once be? Would God that this might be the sermon. But so many better discourses have been lost upon you, that I tremble for the fate of this. The longer you hear without improvement the longer you may. Every resisted sermon renders future resistance more easy and certain. And this very address, unless it softens will harden you; unless it proves a "savour of life," will become a "savour of death."—Shall I stop or shall I proceed? —I must proceed; but first let me entreat you to lift one earnest prayer to God that he would carry the truth home to your hearts. You may have sometimes complained that your fears, rather than your reason, were addressed. You shall have no cause for this complaint now. I mean to appeal to your understandings and to treat you like rational beings. For such indeed you are,—rational beings, endowed with Godlike faculties, capable of enjoying and adorning the heavenly city; infinitely too precious to be lost and devoted to eternal blasphemy and pain.

The great reason of your insensibility is, that under the stupifying influence of unbelief, you have secretly doubted whether there is a God, or if there is, whether you have any thing to do with him or he with you. The thought has lurked in your heart, that if there is a God, he is so far from you, and so unconnected with you, that you have nothing more to do with him than with an inhabitant of another planet. You have never conceived that you owed him your whole heart and life. But now for God's sake attend.

"What dost thou here, Elijah?" Child of dust, what dost thou here in this world? Who sent you hither? and for what end? You are conscious that you did not create yourself, and your parents know that they did not create you. It was God that made you what you are, and put you into a world which he had richly furnished for your use. Have you nothing to do with him or he with you? You are absolutely his property, and he is your Lord and Master, and has a right to you and to the use of all your talents. What was the precise end for which he sent you into the world? I wish to draw your attention to this single point: for I am persuaded that if this one consideration could be fastened on your mind, you would be convinced that you have neglected the great end of your being. Do you imagine that he created you and raised you so much above the brutes, and put you into a world on which he had expended so much labor, that you might wander from him into the regions of darkness? That you might seek your happiness out of him, and live in rebellion against him? that you might spend your life only in preparing to live in this transitory state? Or that you might live only to eat and drink? The latter the brutes are fitted to do; but can you imagine that you have no higher end than they? Indulge no such fatal mistake. As God is true, he sent you into his world for the same end that a master sends a servant into his vineyard,—to labor for him. The sole reason that you are in this world rather than not here, is that you may have an opportunity to serve and enjoy God. He has sent you into the field abundantly furnished with powers and means to serve him, and has strictly commanded you to use these talents in his service. Say not that he is too far above you to be apprehended.

He has brought himself down and spread himself out before you in his works and word, and it is only to unbelief that he is invisible. As your Proprietor and Master, he has a right to expect that all your time and talents, all your wealth and influence, should be consecrated to his service; that your affections should all be engaged for him; that every motive and aim should be "holiness to the Lord;" that "whether you eat or drink" or whatsoever you do, you should do all to his glory; that this should be the general scope of every action and the leading care of every hour.

Having sent you into his vineyard, he looks after you to see whether you are faithful or not. Has he nothing to do with you? His eyes are upon you every moment,—upon the very bottom of your heart. They follow you wherever you go, and mark you out and contemplate all you do, as though you were the only object of his attention in the universe. The fixed design for which they follow you is, to observe whether you perform or neglect the great business for which he sent you into the world. Dream not that he is too distant to concern himself with you; he is "not far from everyone of us." He is by your side and on the very seat with you this moment. Has he nothing to do with you? In him you "live and move and have [your] being." For so many years he has sustained you out of hell, and suffered you to live on his earth and breathe his air. And why is all this? I beseech you to consider the end for which he has done all this for you. Why do you feed and clothe your bond servant? It is that he may not die but live and labor for you. And what would you think, if, while living at your expense and sharing your kindness, he should altogether neglect your service? Should you assign him his task for a certain day in the field, and lie behind the hedge and watch him, and see him all day long doing nothing but wasting your property, what would be your feelings towards that servant? God has sent you into his field,—has solemnly charged you to be faithful to him,—has supported your life,—has fed and clothed you,—and from his invisible seat has kept his eye upon you through all the day of life; and now the day is drawing to a close, and you have not yet begun your work, but have been only marring his estate. And now you are about to return from the field with nothing done, to give in your account to your Master. And what, in the name of eternal justice, will your account be? How will your Master receive you? Ah think of it; it will be a serious hour.

Your Lord and Master, having sent you into his world to serve him,—having sustained you from year to year, with great expense and care, and kept you from the eternal pit, for the express purpose that you might live and labor for him; has added one mercy more which has astonished heaven and earth. At the expense of the life of his own Son he has redeemed you from death. And why was all this? For no other purpose than that you might yet live and labor for him. He has given you opportunities for the means of grace,—has followed you with calls,—has offered to pardon the past if you will only be faithful in future,—has waited upon you and labored with you, with so much pains, for so many years, under so many discouragements, to see if you would not at length feel some sincere regrets and return to his service; and yet, to the shame of all creation, you refuse to serve him still. These amazing kindnesses have well entitled him to the name of Father. He is your Father, and as such you owe him honor. He is your Redeemer, and as such you owe him the tenderest thanks that a grateful heart can render. And have you nothing to do with him? Is he so distant and unconnected with you, that you have no cause to move a thought towards him? Better to say that the inmost fibre of your heart is a stranger and foreigner. Better to sever the bonds of nature and turn off your dearest friends as outcasts from your love.

Did your Creator turn you loose into the world, to run wild in pursuit of your own imaginations, without law or restraint, intending to look no further after you, but to throw you out from his care? Woe to you if he had done this; though this, I fear, you have often wished. But he did no such thing. His intention was still to follow you with his cares, as beloved creatures whom his own bands had formed,—to exercise government over you,—to establish eternal communion with you,—to lead your desires up to him,—to fill you with his own sublime happiness, and to make you a part of an harmonious, blessed, and glorious kingdom. To accomplish these ends he put you under law,—a law admirably calculated to unite you to him and to consummate your happiness. As he is infinitely the greatest and best of beings, whom no man can hate and be happy; who, in order to further an harmonious kingdom, must be acknowledged as the Head, and must be the centre of affection and the great bond of attraction; therefore he has commanded all his rational creatures to love him supremely. In this he has required no more than was his due, and the very least that it was for his honor to accept. Indeed he has conferred an infinite favor on creatures by making a law so essential to public order, and pointing out the only way to individual happiness. The unreasonable will complain of anything, and murmurs have filled the world because this law requires the heart. But were it otherwise,—were God to relinquish his claims on the heart and compound for outward service only, would it be better then? Could they be happy here, could they be happy in heaven, without a holy heart? They had better never been born than be excused from loving God. Should God give up his law, still they are wretches to eternity without love to him. The law enjoins nothing but what in the nature of things is essential to happiness. Have you nothing to do with God or he with you? You have forgotten that you are subjects under law, bound by all the authority of Jehovah. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart." This comes to you under the great seal of heaven. It is the express command of the eternal God. Whatever you may think of it, neither the praise nor the blame of making or publishing it belongs to men. From this moment you must either renounce your Bible, or understand that God accounts you rebels for not loving and serving him with all the heart and soul. He admits no excuse. Your plea that you cannot, is only pleading guilty. A heart that refuses to love the Creator and Redeemer of the world, is the very thing for which God condemns you,—is the vilest rebel in the universe.

And now have you nothing to do with God or he with you? Know well, my unhappy hearers, that God will have to do with you through the interminable ages of eternity, and on his sovereign pleasure it depends whether you shall spend your eternity in heaven or hell. You cannot be disconnected from him if you would. You are in his hands, and you must remain in his hands to eternity.

O my dear hearers, my flesh and blood, you have not sufficiently considered these things. There is no realizing sense of one of these truths in minds that can remain at ease in a state of enmity against God. You have not considered who sent you into the world, and for what end,—who supports your lives, and for what end they are supported,—who redeemed you from death, and why you were redeemed. You have not considered what God has earnestly commanded you to do, and what connexion you must have with him to eternity. These things you have not considered; but God considers them all. He indeed keeps silence, because this is not the state of retribution, but of trial. He keeps silence, but is angry. He is angry, and he will one day speak. He will speak in a manner which does not admit of present description, but it will be such as fully to assert his rights and wipe off the stigma which his long silence has occasioned, that he is "altogether such a one as" yourselves. He will take account of his servants to whom he committed the talents. "Every work [shall be brought] into judgment, with every secret thing whether it be good or evil." At the close of all he will command them to cast "the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

And now what will you say to these things? Has not every word been calmly addressed to your reason, and been supported by positive declarations from the Word of God? If then the Bible is not a fable,—if it is the book by which you will be judged at the last day, your case is such as calls for immediate attention. God has a very heavy account against you. There is wrath gone out against you. It behooves you to get the sentence repealed without delay by deep contrition and application to the blood of atonement. Do you think it will answer for you to live any longer idle under the very eye of your Master? At this late hour ought any more time to be lost? I wish I knew what resolutions you are forming. My dear hearers, what do you intend to do? What use will you make of this exhortation when you depart? Some, I fear, will think no more of it until it meets them in judgment. Others may be impressed for a season and afterwards return to stupidity. But will not some one be wise enough this once to believe God? O God, if any are hesitating, interpose and fix their resolves! Nay, let not that thought arise again, When I have got a little more of the world I will attend. So thought Felix, but the thought was fatal. A resolution to postpone, is half a resolution to die as you are. If it were not so pressing a case, I would not be so pressing. But you have souls capable of amazing happiness or amazing woe, and they are now under sentence of eternal death. "He who does not believe is condemned already." Can a rational being rest in such a state? You see also what pressing claims your Creator and Redeemer has upon you. Most of you would be agonized at the thought of defrauding one of your fellow men. But will you be scrupulous to "render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's," and feel no concern to "render unto God the things that are God's?" O that this sentiment might vibrate in your ears and be deposited at the bottom of your hearts, "Render unto God the things that are God's." Let every thing sincere in you be stirred up at the names of Father and Redeemer, and arouse you to "render unto God the things that are God's." Then will he no longer frown, but smile upon you as dear children, and our joy on your account will be full. Amen.





Whom Have I in Heaven but Thee? by Edward D. Griffin




Whom Have I in Heaven but Thee?




"Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." Psalm 73:25.


This Psalm was composed by Asaph, one of the three chief singers whom David had appointed in the house of God. The good man had experienced a severe trial from the infirmities of his own heart; which trial, together with the manner in which he was relieved, is described in this beautiful Psalm. He had been "envious at the foolish when" he "saw the prosperity of the wicked," and had indulged in unworthy complaints against divine providence. "They are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men. Their eyes stand out with fatness; they have more than heart could wish.-Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain and washed my hands in innocency; for all the day long have I been plagued and chastened every morning." This temper of uneasiness and distrust arose so high, that in a retrospect upon it he acknowledges, "My feet were almost gone, my steps had well nigh slipped.-So foolish was I and ignorant; I was as a beast before thee." The manner in which he obtained relief from this agitation, was by repairing to the sanctuary of God, where the light of divine revelation shone. Here he discovered, as through a window which opened into eternity, the awful end to which the wicked with all their prosperity were hastening. Here also he learned the final rewards of the righteous, and saw the mysterious inequalities of divine providence cleared up. The glory of God's faithfulness and truth so opened on his soul, and the comparative emptiness of all earthly things, that with more than recovered spirits he exclaimed, "Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee."

My object will be, in the first place, to explain more fully how we are taught to feel by this example of Asaph,-how such a temper will operate and what effects it will produce; and in the second place, to suggest some reasons which urge to such a temper.

I. I am to explain more fully how we are taught to feel by this example of Asaph,-how such a temper will operate and what effects it will produce.

The Psalmist in these words expressed supreme delight in God as his all sufficient and only portion. "Whom have I in heaven but thee?" The only heaven I wish above is but to see thy face. Let others form confused ideas of the upper world, and desire it as a place where something is to be enjoyed, they know not what: but I know what a heaven I desire. Could I ascend to the highest heavens and find the presence of my God withdrawn, it would be no heaven for me. The only reason I pant to ascend above the sun and all these ruinable worlds, is that I may bask in the sunshine of his smiles, and forever behold the source of light without one envious cloud between. Let me but sit at his feet and gaze upon his lovely face, and cry, with unutterable wonder and gratitude, "My Lord and my God," and I ask no more. Let me but take some humble station in his glorious kingdom, where I may sit and read his name, where I may view his infinite happiness and glory and see his beloved kingdom blest, and my soul will be filled.

" And there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." How is this? Was it then a matter of indifference to Asaph whether his friends lived or died,-whether he enjoyed the comforts of life or perished with hunger? This was not literally and precisely his meaning. But what he intended may, I conclude, be summed up in the following ideas. First, that there was nothing among all the charms of earth which could prevent him from wishing to depart and be with the Lord. Secondly, while continuing on earth, he desired nothing besides God in a comparative sense. His soul was at that moment so filled with the supreme excellence and glory of Jehovah, that all earthly things were put out of view. Thirdly, he desired nothing besides God in that he coveted nothing which he considered distinct from the emanations of God. Did he desire food and raiment and friends? He desired them chiefly as divine goodness expressed, as God existing in his outward bounty.

Such a temper of supreme delight in God will operate in unreserved and universal submission to divine providence. While God is more beloved than all other objects, the withholding or removal of every thing besides him will not awaken a spirit of unsubmission and rebellion.

While the Christian has such supreme delight in God, he will not be inordinately leaning on friends or wealth or any worldly object for enjoyment. No high expectations will be formed except those which centre in the supreme good. Lightly valuing the things of time and sense, he will scorn the restless pursuits and unsatisfied desires of the covetous; and holding the commands of God in supreme veneration, he will practice deeds of liberal charity.

Sensible that prosperity gives and adversity takes away only those things which are least desirable, neither by prosperity nor adversity will he be greatly moved. Ever assured that God, the supreme good, is safe, he will dismiss all anxieties respecting future changes, and come what will, he will "rejoice evermore." Calmly resigning the management of all affairs into hands dearer than his own, he passes his days in unruffled serenity, and knows not the distrusts of jealousy nor the uneasiness of unbelief. Having a greater regard for the divine will than for any earthly comfort which that will can bestow, he has learned "both how to abound and to suffer need," and "in whatsoever state" he is, "therewith to be content."

The result of this supreme love to God will be faith, trust, self-denial, obedience, and an unreserved consecration of all that we are and have to him, to be disposed of according to his pleasure, and to be employed in his service, how and when and where he is pleased to appoint.

II. I am to suggest some reasons which urge to such a temper.

The infinitely wise and benevolent God is worthy to be the object of our supreme delight. There is more in him to be desired and to be rejoiced in than in all created beings and things. The whole creation has drawn all its glories from him. And can it be supposed that he has imparted more beauty and excellence than he possesses? When our eyes rove abroad over the charming scenes of nature, and traverse the wonders which shine in the heavenly orbs, we may well exclaim with the half-inspired Milton, "How wondrous fair! Thyself how wondrous then!" In God there is every thing which can satisfy and transport the immortal mind. What is the world to him; its pomp, its splendors, "and its nonsense all?" What are the treasures of India and all the glories of Greece and Rome, compared with the fruition of that God whose smiles fill heaven and earth with gladness? Possessed of him, the imprisoned beggar, with all his griefs, is rich and happy; devoid of him, kings and emperors are poor and wretched. Let every earthly comfort depart, yet while we can enjoy the immortal source of blessedness, we are blessed still, we are blest indeed. While walking out with Isaac to meditate at the evening tide,-while beholding that glory which Moses saw on Horeb and on Pisgah,- while worshipping him whose faithfulness and truth were seen by Abraham on Moriah, and whose glories appeared to John in Patmos,-while overcome with the magnificent majesty which rushed on the view of Habakkuk,-while melting away in the sweet ecstasies of David in sight of the mercy and faithfulness of his heavenly Father,-while triumphing in him who was announced by the songs of Bethlehem and by the joys of Simeon's bursting heart,-while from our streaming eyes we pour forth gratitude to the Sufferer of Gethsemane and Golgotha, and ascend to heaven with him who ascended from Olivet,-O how poor and worthless do all mortal things appear.

The claims of God to our supreme affection are further supported by his exceeding great and unnumbered mercies. He is the God of all our revivals, of all our deliverances, and of all our comforts; the God of our fathers and the God of our children. Innumerable mercies, distinguishing us from most of our fellow men, mercies affecting to angels,-have filled our lives. He supported us in our infancy, he led us through all the windings of our youth; his watchful eye has continually been upon us in riper years. Through all our days he has nourished and brought us up as children. He has been with us in six yea and in seven troubles, and brought relief to our distresses when every other helper failed. From countless dangers has he delivered us. He sent his Son from his bosom to bear our sins in his own body on the tree. From what an abyss of pollution and wretchedness have some of us been raised by his pardoning love. He has bestowed upon us the invaluable gifts of his word and ordinances. By his unspeakable grace we have enjoyed the sight of his word revived,-sinners plucked as brands from the burning, and brought to unite their young hosannas with the praises and joys of their fathers. Where shall we end the enumeration? More numerous are his mercies than the stars which look out of heaven. Has the world, have any of our friends, has all creation done for us what our God has done? Surely if kindness and mercy can engage our hearts, we lie under the most pressing obligations to say from our very souls! "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee."

From the truth and faithfulness of our divine Benefactor, we have full assurance that if we get divorced from all our idols and wed ourselves to him alone in holy trust and service, he will make ample provision for our support and comfort,-he will abundantly recompense our fidelity and renunciation of the world. We have no occasion to apply to any other comforter, to any other protector, to any other guide, to any other portion. He will be to us such a portion as will fill and satisfy our souls.

He will be all that we need and all we desire. We shall be blest beyond all previous conception. We shall be full; can need no more and can hold no more.

It is one of the lamentable marks of human weakness that men are so habituated to recede from the eternal centre of rest and to wander abroad in quest of enjoyment. Dependence is withdrawn from God and placed on other objects, which may not be obtained, or if obtained are ever liable to be lost again. The mind, thus torn from its centre and following deceitful meteors, rambles, it knows not whither,-is ever pained with uncertainty and trembling with dubious fears lest the objects in which centre all its desires should be lost. In proportion as men thus place their hopes in the creature, they find themselves the prey of restlessness and misery. To forsake the fountain of living waters for broken cisterns, is a sure prelude to disappointment and vexation. Ah when will we be wise? When will we dismiss all our vain dependencies and make God our only rest and portion? When will we thus obtain that happiness which we have long sought in vain? Could we look with indifference on all the shifting scenes beneath the sun, on prosperity and adversity, on loss and gain, and make the sincere appeal, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee," how happy might we be even in this vale of tears.

Knowing the claims which he had to our supreme affection, God has asserted those claims in his holy word, and strictly commanded us to love him with all the heart, and in comparison with him to hate father and mother, wife and children, and even life itself. And as he is infinitely the greatest and best of beings, this supreme regard to him is his due. It is perfectly right and fit, and what we owe to him, to make him the object of our supreme delight to rejoice that he holds the throne, to resign ourselves with all our interests to his disposal, to feel that we have enough and abound while possessing him, even though every thing else be taken away, and under all our trials and disappointments, to be quiet as a child that is weaned of its mother. It is infinitely unreasonable to set up any private interest in opposition to the interest of the universe,-the interest and wishes of God and his kingdom. Of what consequence is it for infinite wisdom and love to sit upon the throne if they may not govern the world? What does it signify for us to proclaim our joy that the world is under divine direction, if we will not submit and consent to be governed?

Such supreme delight in God and his government had Enoch and Noah, and Abraham and Moses, and David and Daniel and Paul. Not one of them could receive the divine approbation and enter into rest on easier terms. And on no easier terms can we enjoy the friendship and protection of Asaph's God in the present life; on no easier terms can we enter the portals of the heavenly city. But the sure reward of thus choosing him for our portion, will be the unfailing friendship and enjoyment of him in the present life, and when all these perishable worlds shall be blended in one common grave. Then shall they who have chosen him in preference to all others be everlastingly united to their glorious centre, and shall plunge into that ocean of glory which they have chosen for their all, and lose themselves in him. Then shall they know how wise their choice who prefer the immortal God to the husks that were made for the flames. Then with what hearty sincerity and bursting joy will these eternal notes go round, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee."

Let this assembly pause for a moment, while each one solemnly inquires with himself whether he has chosen the God of Asaph for his only portion and supreme delight, or whether his affections and hopes still linger among the vanities of this lower world. Do our souls stand ready, at the word of God, to break away from every scene of this enchanted ground, and leaving the world behind, to soar to regions from which all worldly things are forever excluded? Do we, like Simeon and Paul, pant to ascend to the full possession of the supreme good? Why do we wish for heaven? Is it that we may live forever at home with our God, and after a long and tedious separation, be forever united to the centre of our souls? Is it this, or is it some other heaven which is the object of our imagination and desire? And can we sincerely appeal to the Searcher of hearts, "There is none upon earth that I desire besides thee?" Have we a solemn conviction that we have chosen him for our supreme good and portion? Or do we still remain miserably encumbered with the lumber of earthly objects,-wretchedly ignorant of the Source of our being, -encompassed with darkness which has known no morning,-wickedly and fatally straying from the only source of happiness,-vagrants in the region of confusion, night, and misery? Ah wretched souls, whither do ye wander? Why prefer the night of chaos to the glories of the uncreated sun? Why flee from the fountain of happiness and love in pursuit of wretchedness and eternal war? Where can such bliss be found as you have left behind? Wherefore do you speed your course from the Author of your being as though all misery lived with him? Whither would you hurry in the wildness of your distraction? O return, return. Seek no longer for happiness in shunning its only source. O return, return. Let planets break loose from the attractions of the sun, and wander wildly and without order into the regions of night; but let not immortal souls break away from the attractions of the eternal Sun, to wander in wild and dark vagaries, in wretched confusion and ruinous disorder to all eternity. O return, while return is possible, to the substance and fountain of light and blessedness. Let the attractions of divine love draw you nearer and nearer, until you shall fall into the glorious Sun, and lose yourselves to all eternity in this beatific union. Renounce your alliance with worms and dust, sustain a glorious resurrection from the dead, and learn to say, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee."

The subject will apply itself to backsliding Christians. Ah why should they who have seen his glory and known his love, and seen the world eclipsed by his charms, so often forsake the fountain of living waters for broken cisterns? Why should that which they have known to be the supreme good, be left for things which they know cannot profit? In better hours you have avouched the Lord Jehovah to be your God and portion: you have vowed eternal fealty and subjection to him. Your oath is recorded in the rolls of heaven. Why then violate your promises thus attested, and forsake the source of happiness for comfort which you know is no where else to be found? Awake from these enchanted slumbers. Pursue no longer the unnatural course which carries you from your life and from the centre of yourselves. And what can you find abroad to allure you from home? Precisely what the dove found on leaving the ark,-no place on which to rest the sole of her foot. May you, like her, soon grow weary of the damp and cheerless regions with out, and return on lagging pinions, and with mourning notes plead for an extended arm to take you in. Consider also from what mercies you have fled, and through what obligations you have broken away: and then, with the melting griefs of the Psalmist, give it in charge to yourselves, "Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee."

In the last place, the subject addresses itself to those who have deliberately and heartily made choice of the supreme good, and who have never, by the mists of earth or hell, lost sight of the good they have chosen. Hail, happy souls! All hail, ye unrivaled few! From my heart I give you joy. Ye have found the pearl of great price. Ye have found that treasure which worlds might be sold in vain to purchase. Accept our congratulations.- Accept the congratulations of angels. Let your souls arise and shout for joy; for all the treasures of the universe are yours. The infinite God, with all that he possesses, is made over to you by a covenant well "ordered in all things and sure." Let your pious hearts be comforted under the loss of all terrestrial vanities. Let them shout for joy under all trials and crosses. For under the loss of all things, you possess all things still. The immortal God is yours; and in him you have all and need no more. Be not disheartened at the trials and conflicts in which you may be involved. Soon will you emerge from them all, and like the sun breaking from a cloud, forever shine forth in the kingdom of your Father. It is in our heart to bid you God speed, and encourage you to go on and renew your wise and virtuous choice of the God of all benignity and blessedness. Be emboldened to take a larger and still larger portion of the supreme good. God has said "Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it." Be satisfied with this portion, and murmur not though sinners take the rest. Never indulge vain regrets for the objects you have left behind. "Delight" yourselves more and more "in the Lord," and "He will (more and more) give you the desires of your heart." And whatever allurements try to draw you away, whatever terrors arise in your course, whatever crosses you may have to encounter, never suffer yourselves to be unsettled from the habit of hourly saying, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." Amen.



Salvation Taken Into God's Own Hands by Edward D. Griffin




Salvation Taken Into God's Own Hands





"Behold the days come, saith the Lord, that I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah, not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers in the day that I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt; (which my covenant they broke, although I was a husband unto them, saith the Lord.) But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel: After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts, and will be their God, and they shall be my people. And they shall teach no more every man his neighbor and every man his brother, saying, 'Know ye the Lord', for they shall all know me from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." Jeremiah 31: 31-34.


It is sometimes useful to contemplate the duties which are transferred to us as agents, and sometimes the hopes which arise from the agency of God. To the latter of these subjects our text naturally directs our attention.

The old covenant referred to in this passage was that which was made with the Hebrew nation at Sinai. It was the covenant of grace couched under types; types which had the shadow of good things to come, but not the very image nor the substance of the things, and could never make the comers hereunto perfect. Besides, it was in no sense an absolute, but in every sense a conditional covenant; the agency of God not being pledged for those supplies of the Spirit which would ensure a fulfillment of its conditions. In this respect it resembled the law. It is added as a consequence of all this, "which covenant they broke." Though it was sent forth from among the glories of the burning mount, while Sinai quaked under the weight of the presence of God and the earth trembled beneath his feet, "which covenant they broke." But it pleased God to promise a new dispensation of his covenant in the latter day, not indeed exempt from conditionality as addressed to agents, but accompanied with effectual power. In this new dispensation he brings out to view his own agency upon the heart and takes the salvation of his people into his own hands, and engages to accomplish it himself. The tenor of this covenant is more distinctly stated in the next chapter: "They shall be my people and I will be their God; and I will give them one heart and one way that they may fear me forever; and I will make an everlasting covenant with them that I will not turn away from them to do them good; but I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me." Had only a covenant of works been held out to the world, suspending the salvation of men on their perfect obedience; or had a covenant been proposed which offered pardon, without engaging the spiritual influences necessary to a fulfillment of its conditions, a covenant which offered pardon and yet suspended salvation on the unassisted or unsecured exertions of men, not a child of Adam would ever have reached the kingdom of heaven. Both of these covenants have been tried; the one with sinless man in Eden, the other with sinning men at Sinai: and although the Spirit was granted to the nation of Israel, it was because to Abraham had been made the promise of a holy seed, and "the covenant that was confirmed before of God in Christ the law, which was four hundred and thirty years after," could not "disannul, that it should make the promise of none effect." And blessed be God, the covenant that was made with Abraham is still in force and is extended to the Christian Church. It will be my object to show:

  • I. That according to the plan of grace revealed in the Gospel, God has taken the work of salvation into his own hands;
  • II. That this circumstance lays the only foundation of human hope.
I. According to the plan of grace revealed in the Gospel, God has taken the work of salvation into his own hands. The great design originated in the mind of God. In the ages of eternity it arose out of his own self-moving goodness, without the counsel of any creature, without the intercession of any creature, without respect to the merits of any creature. It was his own purpose, his own favorite choice, induced by nothing but a regard to his own glory and compassion for a ruined world. Having conceived the design, it was he that prepared the means of its execution. He organized the whole plan without the counsel or solicitation of any creature. Eternal ages before creatures had existence, the covenant of redemption between the Sacred Persons was formed, in which every circumstance relating to the salvation of the world was settled. From the resources which were found in the ever-blessed Trinity, the means of atonement and redemption were derived. The Second Person stood forth and offered himself to die in a human form to expiate human guilt. The offer was accepted, and in return a numerous seed were promised him, whose names were "written in the book of life." The plan of redemption thus settled, these lower worlds were formed. Man was placed on the earth. He fell. Immediately an intimation of the great purpose was made to him. The design was still further disclosed during the lapse of following ages. It was known on earth that God would redeem his people; but so far from man's being consulted in regard to this design, he knew not the means nor the manner of its accomplishment. In the fullness of time the Son of God appeared on earth "to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself;" and by once offering himself "to bear the sins of many", he brought in "everlasting righteousness," and "perfected forever them that are sanctified." He arose from the dead for their justification, and in his own release from the sins he had borne, received the seal of their acquittal and salvation. All this was done by God, independently of creatures. And now the charge of applying to the promised seed the benefits of redemption was committed to Christ, who, with the consent of the Father, sent out the Holy Spirit to bring invitations to a universal world, and to subdue as many as the Father had given him. The work of enlightening the world by the preaching of the Gospel was taken into the hands of the blessed Trinity, who employed in the work such human instruments as wisdom saw fit; but it was God and not man who undertook to provide that the Gospel should be preached to every nation under heaven. It was the blessed Trinity who created the Christian Church, and undertook the charge of it, and settled the point that it should be supported and enlarged, until its overflowing glory should fill the world. The management of the Church and all her interests­ her preservation, advancement, and final triumph­ the whole has God himself provided for without the counsel of creatures. His purpose is fixed and will not change. She shall live; she shall be enlarged; the gates of hell shall not prevail; her overflowing glory shall fill the earth as the waters fill the sea. In like manner God has taken into his own hands the salvation of every individual of his elect. It belongs to him to awaken the conscience, which never would be done if not done by him. It belongs to him to convince of sin, which never would be done if not done by him. It belongs to him to subdue the resistance which the heart is sure to make to the calls of the Spirit, resistance which, if he did not subdue it, would forever prevail. And after he has overcome the sinner by superior strength and changed the heart of stone to flesh, it belongs to him to carry on the work of sanctification. This also he has taken into his own hands. It is his province to subdue the remaining corruption, to deliver from the wiles of Satan and the snares of the world, to clear all obstacles from the Christian's path and to bear him in his arms all the way to heaven. The work is all the Lord's, undertaken for his own glory, undertaken from love inexhaustible and invincible, and as the Lord liveth it will be accomplished.

II. That God has taken the work of delivering his people into his own hands, is the only foundation of human hope. This doctrine of divine agency and anti-human dependence, though it is opposed by all that is proud in man, by all his love of independence, by all his hatred of divine government, is yet one of the sweetest doctrines of the Christian system. While the world complains that their salvation is dependent on the will of God, they may be very sincere, but really they know not what they do: for they murmur against that which is the only foundation of human hope. Had not God taken the salvation of men into his own hands, to begin, to carry on, and to perfect it according to his sovereign pleasure, not a fallen creature would ever have reached the kingdom of heaven. There is not a Christian on earth who could have atoned for his own sins, or conceived the wonderful plan of atonement by the death of an incarnate God. Had not God contrived and executed this plan, no provision could have been made for the salvation of men. There is not a Christian on earth who could have secured the privilege of being born and brought up under the light of the Gospel, had not God ordered his lot in this manner. Not a Christian on earth would ever have awakened himself from the slumbers of sinful repose, would have poured upon his own conscience the convincing light of truth, would have subdued his own resistance and translated himself from darkness into marvelous light. The best Christian on earth, with all his attainments, would never overcome another sin, would never gain another triumph over the world, would never demolish another idol, would never escape another snare of Satan, but for the power of God. Sustaining the combined assaults of earth and hell, what can he do? An infant whining in its mother's arms, might as well attempt to hurl the sun from his orbit and turn all the angels out of heaven, as a poor feeble creature, in his own strength, try to overcome two worlds with his own house divided against itself. His only hope is in God. At what time he is afraid he can only trust in his eternal Rock. Surrounded by armies stronger than he, with all their weapons pointed at his heart, like Jehosaphat he cries out to God for aid. Enclosing in his own bosom a host of rebels, constantly disposed to mutiny and to tumult, with no check upon them but guards which are furnished from heaven, what could he do if the heavenly aid were withdrawn? Beset from without and from within, he must soon be swallowed up if the God of his salvation did not appear for him. Finding every inch of ground disputed by the enemy, and his own mind revolting from the contest, what hope can he have but in the God of the armies of Israel? Well, let the heavenly powers aid him to prostrate long ranks of the foe;-let him a thousand times shout victory in his passage, until he arrives on the very confines of heaven;-let heaven with all the splendor of its glory be disclosed to his aged eyes, and the songs of seraphs fall upon his withered ear;-let then the heavenly aid desert him,-and from the threshold of glory,-from the vision of the Lamb he would retreat, and, urged by the malignity of his own heart, would plunge into eternal darkness and blasphemy.

The Christian who feels his own weakness, and discerns the number and power of the enemy, will resort to this delightful truth as the only ground of hope, "The salvation of the righteous is of the Lord;" and a thousand times will he say, with an eye lifted to heaven and fixed as marble, "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him." Knowing that his case is desperate unless God plucks him from the midst of a thousand deaths; perceiving that an attempt in his own strength to break through all the difficulties between him and heaven is altogether hopeless; sensible that he cannot take a single step alone,-that without Christ he can do nothing; he finds it sweet to lay his soul over on God,-by a distinct and deliberate act to deliver into the hands of Christ all that he holds dear for time and eternity, and to commit to him every part of his salvation. Sweet is the act of taking the glorious perfections of God for the pledges and agents of his salvation,-to reach out and take hold of omnipotence,-to feel a sense which it is not easy to express, but which may be indistinctly signified by saying, he feels imbosomed in God, and sheltered there from every danger and enemy.

That God has taken the salvation of individuals into his own hands, will excite no uneasiness except in those who would rather trust themselves than God, who would rather reign themselves than that God should reign. But remove from real Christians this foundation, and all their hopes and efforts will sink into motionless despair. The only encouragement they have to "work out" their "own salvation," is that "God-worketh in" them. "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure."

From this doctrine is also drawn all our encouragement in relation to the interests of the general Church. Who shall protect her from all her enemies? Every pious minister and every Christian yields the point, and concludes that if God does not support his own cause in the world, he must sit down in tears and give up all for lost. When we look abroad into the streets and see them filled with pollution, with reeling animals that spew the name of God from their drunken lips; when we see the mixed multitude driving furiously after the world, without a care for God or their souls; the most affecting events, the most solemn judgments unable to rouse them to a serious thought, when we behold those who profess the name of Christ buried deep in the world as those who have been long dead, with no seeming care for the kingdom of him who purchased them with his blood; when we behold the ministration of the word producing no effects, and not a soul under all the pleadings of divine love moved to inquire the way to heaven; the eye of benevolence, filled with tears, looks round and inquires, Is there no redress? The heart of benevolence, bleeding at every pore and trembling for the ark of God, can seize on nothing to sustain its hopes but the blessed truth held out in the text. The work of saving men is God's own work. The cause of religion is God's own cause. I know that not another soul will ever be converted in this congregation unless it be accomplished by the power of God. After human efforts have spent themselves to no purpose, this one consolation is left: the work of saving these poor perishing souls who are going down to destruction from our land by millions, the work of preserving religion in this congregation, is taken into God's own hands. There we leave it; easing our bosoms with a long sigh, there we leave it.

Come hither ye pious parents, who anxiously look on the children of your love, whom you have brought into a state of depravity and condemnation, but whom you know that you cannot restore: come, bring them and leave them here. After all your tender concern what will become of them after death, after all your prayers and tears and discouragement? Bring them in your arms and leave them here. You and your whole families may here find repose. Will that darling child be saved? You cannot tell. You exceedingly desire its salvation, but you know that you cannot save it. Will that child be saved? your beating heart again inquires. The decision of this question is reserved for infinite wisdom and love. You have confidence in God that he will do right. You love him better than you do your child. You put the work of saving your children over upon him and calmly resign them into his hands. Do you not now feel a substantial peace in reflecting that God has taken the whole work of saving men into his own hands? While your children are clustering around you, and you are regarding them with a tender tear, say, Christian parent, would you for a thousand worlds change this blessed truth?

Come hither ye pious ministers, who seem to labor in vain and spend your strength for naught, who often look around on the people of your charge and of your heart, and know that you shall soon meet them at the bar of God, and yet see most of them buried in the world and sin: come hither, after all your distresses and discouragement, after your anxious days and restless nights; come, for here a little light begins to dawn; it brightens, it breaks upon the soul with glorious effulgence. The work of succeeding in your ministry and saving the people committed to your care is taken into God's own hands. It is his own work; it is his own cause: with him you may safely leave it.

Come hither ye pious and expanded souls who bear upon your hearts the general interests of the Church, who have been long praying for the kingdom of Christ to come: here you may settle and rest. The work of preserving and enlarging the Church and consummating her glory is taken into God's own hands. He who set up this object without consulting the wishes or opinions of men, who has placed his heart upon it as his own favorite interest, as the chosen means of spreading his glory before the inhabitants of all worlds, who for this purpose created and redeemed, who preserves and governs the earth, he will take care of the Church, and as sure as he is possessed of omnipotence, will bring to its aid sufficient strength to advance it to perfection and glory.

Come hither ye doubting Christians, who are overwhelmed with fear for your own safety, who tremble before your spiritual enemies, and often anticipate an eternal train of evils: come and rest your anxieties on the covenant of God, the only, the all sufficient ground of hope. God has taken into his own hands the salvation of his people. "This shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel: I will put my law in their inward parts and write it in their hearts, and will be their God, and they shall be my people; for I will forgive their iniquity and I will remember their sin no more." When I contemplate this promise, "I will put my law in their inward parts, and will be their God, and they shall be my people," I am prepared to say, There lies enclosed the last hope of an expiring world. I approach nearer to it; I gaze upon it; I hear it say again, "I will be their God and they shall be my people;" my mind whispers to itself, In that promise is embosomed the only hope on which my trembling soul relies. It may be that God will look upon me. I fix my eyes on the heavens: Will God be pleased to undertake for me? I read the text again: I put my life in my hands and cast myself at his feet, pouring out this sum of all my hopes, "Lord, if thou wilt thou canst make me clean." Here also is the only hope of unrenewed sinners. Come hither ye mixed multitude of impenitent men, and contemplate the only chance which remains for your salvation. Unless that God whom you have made your enemy by wicked works undertakes for you, all heaven and earth cannot save you. Unless that God whom you daily disobey, to whom you refuse to cry for relief, unless he in mercy to your poor perishing souls begins and carries on and completes your salvation, you are undone for eternity. Will you any longer treat your only helper with so much neglect and abuse? Remember that you are in his hands. One frown from him and you are plunged into eternal woe; one smile from him and you live forever. O realize your condition. Hasten to cast yourselves at his feet. "Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." Amen.

Your Heart His Target by Edward D. Griffin




Your Heart His Target





(original title: Arrows Sharp in the Heart of Enemies)

"Your arrows are sharp in the heart of the King's enemies; the peoples fall under you." Psalm 45:5

While tyrants are wading to power through the blood of slaughtered armies, and marching to the music of a nation's groans, there is a Conqueror of a far different sort. He too has his arrows and his two-edged sword, and "goes forth conquering and to conquer"; but his track is not marked with desolation and woe. His coming is not proclaimed by the cries of widows and orphans. Mercy is his banner, and with him marches salvation. He wounds only to heal, and kills only to make alive. "On his head" are "many crowns," and his name is called, "The Word of God." When the Gospel was sent forth, then this glorious Conqueror girded his sword upon his thigh, according to the prayer in verses 3 and 4 of this Psalm: "Gird Your sword upon your thigh, O Mighty One, with your glory and your majesty. And in your majesty ride prosperously because of truth, humility, and righteousness; and your right hand shall teach you awesome things." This is a devout prayer for the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom in all the fullness of its blessings. Although the idea of severity to enemies may be included, and a full view of the Conqueror as here arrayed may show us a Monarch marching into a rebellious province, reducing some to obedience and destroying others, yet the idea of mercy is much stronger. Although the Gospel, which is the grand weapon employed, may be "set for the fall" as well as "rising of many," and may prove a "savor of death unto death," yet who does not know that its leading feature is mercy? To this second view of the subject I shall confine my attention, and do my best to celebrate the gracious triumphs of our King. In order to show this, I will:

I. Examine the process of his individual conquests.

II. Contemplate the general march of the Conqueror.

I. I shall examine the process of his individual conquests.

"Your arrows are sharp in the heart of the King's enemies," (that is, the enemies of your kingdom,) whereby "The peoples fall under You."—fall prostrate at your feet after the manner of vanquished foes. Several ideas are included in these words. which, followed out in their proper order, will lead to a right understanding of these individual conquests.

1. It is plainly implied that the King marches against none but enemies. This clearly shows us the earlier character of all who are subdued, and of course the natural character of all mankind. The text does not limit its view to the conquest of thieves and robbers: it looks at the general extension of the Redeemer's kingdom. It does not limit its view to the reduction of pagans, unless all besides pagans are real subjects of his kingdom and heartily obedient to his laws. If you can find any in Christendom, any even among the baptized, who do not submit to his laws in heart as well as in practice, (for the heart is included in his requirements,) you find those who, as really as pagans, have yet to be reduced to subjection to his empire. And all who need to be thus reduced, are his enemies according to the text. If then you can find any with the Bible in their hands, who have not truly repented and forsaken their sins, who have not exercised a saving faith in Christ, who do not live a life of prayer, who have not heartily renounced the world, who do not love God supremely, who do not possess the spirit of martyrs, (for all these are essentially characteristic of his subjects,) you find those who still remain the enemies of Christ. "You are My friends if you do whatever I command you." But: "he who is not with me is against me." In a word, all who are yet to be brought into the kingdom of Christ, that is, all the world except real Christians, are his enemies.

2. The conquering of these enemies is the work of Christ. The history of all genuine conversions is written in these words: "Your arrows are sharp in the heart of the King's enemies; The peoples fall under you." Every new subject brought into his kingdom is a trophy of his conquering power. His empire is extended only by conquest. Allow that the text has reference to the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom, and all this follows with irresistible certainty.

3. We are now prepared to examine the process by which these conquests are made. The first question is, What are these arrows by which the enemies are shot through? Doubtless they are the same with the sword mentioned in a preceding verse. Now the sword of Christ is represented as proceeding out of his mouth; and long ago he said by a prophet, "He has made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shadow of his hand he has hidden me, and made me a polished shaft" "The sword of the Spirit" is expressly said to be "the word of God"; and we are told that "The word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." No doubt then that the arrows which he pierces us are the truths of his word. This piercing is accomplished by the working of his Spirit, whose special work is to "convict the world of sin and righteousness and of judgment." In an hour when the mind is thoughtless and wandering upon the world, it is made to feel one of these truths, and then another, and another still, with increasing and decreasing power. The precise order is not the same in every case; but sooner or later the same truths get into every mind thus affected. The sinner is made to feel, to a degree unknown before, that there is a God "who is angry with the wicked every day"; that he himself is the creation of God sent into the world to serve that God; that he has wickedly neglected the work; that he has violated the laws of God in numberless instances, in thought, word, and deed; that for his sins he is justly condemned to eternal death. After seeing these things he cannot but be deeply affected and dismayed. The careless world may well pronounce him mad: but is he really insane? Is it madness to believe the truths of God? The things which he sees and feels are everlasting truths; and the only difference between his present and former state is, that then he did not realise the truth, now he does. Formerly he lived in unbelief, like the rest of a careless world, heedless of the things which God has spoken; now he believes them. Which is the real madman, one who can refuse to believe infinite truths, and rush on to eternity unmindful of the terrible declarations of God respecting the world he lives in, or he who views things as they are?

It is a fashionable opinion among the heedless, that men submit to the empire of Christ in a calm manner, without any distress or ferment; that as religion is a pleasant service, all gloom at the entrance upon it must indicate a morbid state of the imagination. But this does not agree with the statement of the text. The heart of a rebel will be transfixed with arrows: and if arrows enter a heart there must be pain. And to look at the thing in its own light, how can a man wake up and find himself an enemy to God and under condemnation, and not be distressed? How can the sins of his life be laid open to his sight without filling him with confusion and anguish? How can "the wrath of God," which "is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness," be applied to him without producing trembling and dread? You say, he ought to trust in the mercies of God in Christ: and so he will as soon as he has fully seen his need and humbled himself for his sins. But are there no pains of sickness to be felt before he will apply to the physician? Is there no view of ruin before he will prize the grace which came "to save that which was lost?" —before he will flee to the refuge provided? Are there no bitter tears of repentance before he can be pardoned? And is it necessary to suppose that all these realizations occur in a single moment? Is it not more consistent with the nature of the human mind, with facts recorded in Scripture, and with the testimony of daily experience, to suppose that these new understandings must pass in succession, and often in slow succession? And that the mind, hard and obstinate as it is, must ordinarily linger for a considerable time under a sense of guilt and ruin before it will embrace a Saviour? And is it not reasonable to suppose that one who has been so deep in guilt, will be held off a while, (like Miriam who was left to "be ashamed seven days,"). before he is admitted to the embraces of pardoning love? It is perfectly reasonable and Scriptural and agrees with personal experience, that a sinner should remain a while in darkness and distress before he tastes the sweetness of forgiving mercy. And there are too many reasons to fear that those who condemn these temporary glooms, and find no difficulty in trusting at once on divine mercy without a conflict or a pain, have never seen their need of mercy and do in fact rely rather on the general clemency of God to which they feel themselves justly entitled.

But our text carries the idea farther. I have said, if arrows enter a heart there must be pain; I now add, there must be death; and if life succeeds, it must be by a resurrection. By these arrows the heart of Paul was pierced on the plains of Damascus; and he himself tells us the effect: "When the commandment came, sin revived and I died." The majesty and purity of God opened to his sight; the strictness and extent of the divine law stood before him; his own sins rolled upon him like a dark cloud of thunder; he saw himself to be utterly condemned, utterly unable to atone for one sin, utterly ruined, helpless, and hopeless. Then it was that he died to all hope of justification by the law,—all hope of helping himself,—and pronounced himself a dead man. Then, and not till then, he lifted an eye to the Saviour,—lifted it from the bottom of the grave, and rose to a new life of hope,—rose to eternal life in Jesus Christ.

The work which the Saviour came to accomplish was nothing less than to raise the dead. He did not come to remodel an old life, but to raise men from their graves. He came to be, in every sense, "the resurrection and the life." His purpose was to raise to spiritual life the "dead in trespasses and sins," to raise to the life of hope and to eternal life those who had seen themselves to be dead in the sentence of the law, and had died to all hope of helping themselves. Finally he will raise the body from the grave. Every part of his work is a resurrection.

How wonderful is the literal truth behind the figurative language of our text! This glorious King and Conqueror, finding a rebel in arms against him, thrusts him through with the arrows of truth, fills him with the anguish of conviction, lays him dead at his feet, and then raises him to the life of hope and to life eternal in himself. This single figure presents the whole process of supernatural conviction and conversion, and proves the reality of such a work.

Here I pause, and ask my hearers whether they have ever experienced such a change. If you have not, you have no part in Christ. This is precisely the change intended by the Saviour himself when he said, "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." If you have not felt the arrows of truth penetrating your hearts, filling you with remorse and anguish and repentance, showing you the justice of your condemnation, causing you to die to all hope of thinking good of yourselves before God, leading you to look up from your graves to the Saviour of sinners, and raising you to a new life in him; you may be moral and charitable to the poor, but you have no part in Christ. You still lie under condemnation, and dying thus, must sink into eternal woe. Have you then, my dear hearers, ever felt those arrows penetrating your souls, and felt them extracted by him who applied the balm of Gilead? How beautifully is this process described by the tender poet Cowper!
"I was a stricken deer that left the herd
long since: with many an arrow deeply pierced
my panting side was charged, when I withdrew
to seek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by One who had himself
been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,
and in his hands and feet the cruel scars,
With gentle force extracting the darts,
he drew them forth, and healed and bade me live."

II. Let us now contemplate the general march of this divine Conqueror.

The great work of subduing a rebellious race is taken into his own hands;—a glorious truth, which, though offensive to wicked men, lays the only foundation of human hope. He made a promise to undertake this wonderful campaign when there was nothing to require him, no one to speak of our miseries, no one to plead in our behalf. He undertook it from no desire of fame, with no desire for reward but the pleasure of relieving the wretched and bestowing on prostrate rebels freedom and life. He undertook it knowing full well the perils of the war and the many pains and scars it would cost him. The scene of the battle was not to be a single district or kingdom, but a world. The interest at stake was the dearest interest of God and his creation.

The warring sides were the strongest powers in the universe. The army collected to oppose this mighty King made up of all the inhabitants of two worlds was the greatest host that ever was marshaled since time began. The great army of Xerxes was a platoon compared to this. Against such an immeasurable host, who for ages had been entrenching themselves throughout the world, in every temple, in every school, behind every throne, in every heart, he went forth single-handed. He girded his sword upon his thigh, he mounted the chariot of his Gospel, and marched directly into the heart of Satan's empire. Wherever he came he conquered. At his approach devils fled, their temples and altars fell, their oracles grew dumb. The Roman empire, the chief seat of Satan's visible kingdom, shook to its center, and afterwards opened to the Conqueror and fell prostrate at his feet. Wounds he carried, but the very blood he shed dissolved the strongest hold of Satan, the heart of man. He sent forth his arrows and three thousand wore pricked in the heart at once. He marched through the nations, breaking down the prisons which Satan had reared to confine his wretched captives. Hundreds of millions who had been confined in dungeons from their birth, were released from their chains and brought forth to joyous light. Wherever he came freedom and joy sprung up around him. He marched down the ages, scattering his arrows from his quiver and bringing his enemies to his feet.

He still rides today through the nations "conquering and to conquer." His arrows never miss their mark. No trumpet is sounded before him: his march is silent and unobserved by the world, but it is uninterrupted still. While the world dream that he has retired from the earth, he is extending his conquests every hour. It is the chief employment for which he lives. All the piety of the present generation in the four quarters of the globe, is the fruit of his recent conquests. Every saint on earth is a vanquished rebel, whose heart was once pierced by the shafts of his quiver. God speed thee, thou glorious Conqueror! Go on and prosper. "And in Your majesty ride prosperously because of truth, humility, and righteousness" and may the praises of millions ready to perish come before you.

His signs of victory are not desolated countries, but prisoners set free, souls delivered from the destroyer, sighs and groans comforted, and the sting of death removed. These are his trophies; these are his spoils. The high minded spirit of medieval legend celebrated the feats of knights uninterested in their own gain, who roamed the kingdoms, supposedly to deliver oppressed females from enchanted castles or from the grasp of giants and monsters. But how much more generous and kind a Deliverer is here,—marching through the nations and rescuing the oppressed and those that have no helper, from the tyranny of Satan. "Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, Or the captives of the righteous be delivered? But thus says the LORD: Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, And the prey of the terrible be delivered." O the divine compassion of this Godlike advance! Again we say, the Almighty God speed thee, thou glorious Conqueror! We will follow the wheels of his triumphal chariot, and shout as we go, "Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord" to redeem a wretched race: "Hosanna in the highest."

How many millions has this high-minded King subdued, from Abel to the present day? How many even of us? How many of our dear children and friends? Has not some of us seen a parent or a brother delivered from eternal slavery and ruin? Has never a parent among us seen a child set free from bondage and restored to his right mind? In the hour when that parent stood with his child to thank his Deliverer, did he not say again, "Hosanna to the Son of David: blessed is he that comes" to save our children from eternal death?

But the most glorious triumphs of this divine Conqueror are reserved for ages yet to come, which the voice of prophecy and the signs of the times declare to be now at the door. His hand is brushing away the kingdom of religious authority and dropping spiritual Babylon like a millstone into the mighty deep. His shafts will shortly pierce the curtain that hides from the seed of Abraham the glories of their Messiah; and some of you, I trust, will live to see that long lost race restored to the land of their fathers. His hand will break the Muslim powers, when they assemble on the mountains of Israel to disinherit the restored tribes, and will thus put a final end to that delusion which has long enchained that part of the human race. His bow will bring down many nations which are now kneeling to gods of wood and stone. His arrows will pierce the priests of Hinduism and Buddhism, and lay the dervishes of Turkey at his feet. They will sing his triumphs on the banks of the Ganges and in the deserts of Sahara. They will celebrate his victories on the frozen beach of Kamchatka and in the sultry regions of Congo and Peru. The mosques of Mecca and the pagodas of Hindustan shall be converted into temples of the living God: and the enemy who deceived the whole world, ejected from all his dominions on earth, shall be confined to his prison for a thousand years. For a thousand years shall he who hung on Calvary reign over this restored world, with all his enemies under his feet, with none to question his messianic office, with none to deny his godhead. At the end of this period he will triumph once more over "Gog and Magog"; and then, as the last act of his dominion on earth, will judge the world. And when he shall have committed all his enemies to prison, and shall be returning, at the head of his redeemed Church, towards heaven's gate,—going home from all his wars and victories, covered with scars and honors,—how will they shout his triumphs as they ascend: "Lift up your heads, O you gates! And be lifted up, you everlasting doors! And the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, The LORD mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O you gates! Lift up, you everlasting doors! And the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, He is the King of glory." And when they have conducted him to his throne, they will sing out the eternal strain "like the sound of many waters": voice: "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain To receive power and riches and wisdom, and strength and honor and glory and blessing!" And the whole sanctified creation will send forth the loud response: "Blessing and honor and glory and power Be to Him who sits on the throne, And to the Lamb, forever and ever!"

My dear hearers, fall down at the feet of this divine Conqueror, and submit to his empire, and risk your eternal all upon his mediation. If you refuse, know you that he has other arrows with which to reach your heart. "God shall shoot at [you] with an arrow; suddenly shall [you] be wounded." They that will not have this King to reign over them, shall be brought forth and slain before him. He will reign till all his enemies are made his footstool. His first advent, with all the kindness which attended it, was foretold in terms terrible to the wicked. "And the Lord, whom you seek, will suddenly come to His temple, even the Messenger of the covenant, in whom you delight. Behold, He is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of His coming? And who can stand when He appears? For He is like a refiner's fire." And that coming in his kingdom which is yet future, is predicted in language equally alarming. "Who is this who comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah, this One who is glorious in His apparel, traveling in the greatness of His strength?; 'I who speak in righteousness, mighty to save.' Why is Your apparel red, And Your garments like one who treads in the winepress? 'I have trodden the winepress alone, And from the peoples no one was with Me. For I have trodden them in My anger, And trampled them in My fury; Their blood is sprinkled upon My garments, And I have stained all My robes. For the day of vengeance is in My heart, And the year of My redeemed has come.'" Terrible things are to be accomplished upon the wicked, which will cause men's hearts to fail for fear. "The kings of the earth, the great men, the rich men, the commanders, the mighty men, every slave and every free man, [will hide] themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains, and [say] to the mountains and rocks, 'Fall on us and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of His wrath has come, and who is able to stand?'"

Therefore my friends, seek the arrows of his love before the time comes for the arrows of his wrath. Run to the shelter of the Savior before you wish for the shelter of the rocks. May you be a trophy of his grace and rejoice in the day of his coming. Amen.