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“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” — Luke 2:7

Have you room for Christ?  Have you room for Christ? As the palace, and the forum, and the inn, have no room for Christ, and as the places of public resort have none, have you room for Christ?

“Well,” says one, “I have room for him, but I am not worthy that he should come to me.”  Ah! I did not ask about worthiness; have you room for him?  “Oh,” says one, “I have an empty void the world can never fill!”  Ah! I see you have room for him.  “Oh! but the room I have in my heart is so base!”  So was the manger.  “But it is so despicable!”  So was the manger a thing to be despised.  “Ah! but my heart is so foul!”  So, perhaps, the manger may have been.  “Oh! but I feel it is a place not at all fit for Christ!”  Nor was the manger a place fit for him, and yet there was he laid.”  Oh! but I have been such a sinner; I feel as if my heart had been a den of beasts and devils!”  Well, the manger had been a place where beasts had fed.  Have you room for him?  Never mind what the past has been; he can forget and forgive.  It matters not what even the present state may be if thou mourn it.  If thou hast but room for Christ he will come and be thy guest.

Do not say, I pray you, “I hope I shall have room for him;” the time is come that he shall be born; Mary cannot wait months and years.  Oh! sinner, if thou hast room for him let him be born in thy soul today.  “Today if ye will hear his voice harden not your hearts as in the provocation.”  “Today is the accepted time; today is the day of salvation.”  Room for Jesus! Room for Jesus now!

“Oh!” saith one, “I have room for him, but will he come?”  Will he come indeed!  Do you but set the door of your heart open, do but say, “Jesus, Master, all unworthy and unclean I look to thee; come, lodge within my heart,” and he will come to thee, and he will cleanse the manger of thy heart, nay, will transform it into a golden throne, and there he will sit and reign forever and forever.  Oh! I have such a free Christ to preach this morning!  I would I could preach him better. I have such a precious loving, Jesus to preach, he is willing to find a home in humble hearts.  What!  Are there no hearts here this morning that will take him in?  Must my eye glance round these galleries and look at many of you who are still without him and are there none who will say, “Come in, come in?”

Oh! it shall be a happy day for you if you shall be enabled to take him in your arms and receive him as the consolation of Israel!  You may then look forward even to death with joy, and say with Simeon — “Lord, now let thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.”  My Master wants room!  Room for him!  Room for him!  I, his herald, cry aloud, Room for the Savior!  Room!  Here is my royal Master — have you room for him?  Here is the Son of God made flesh — have you room for him?  Here is he who can forgive all sin — have you room for him?  Here is he who can take you up out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay — have you room for him?  Here is he who when he cometh in will never go out again, but abide with you forever to make your heart a heaven of joy and bliss for you-have you room for him?  ‘Tis all I ask.  Your emptiness, your nothingness, your want of feeling, your want of goodness, your want of grace — all these will be but room for him.  Have you room for him?  Oh! Spirit of God, lead many to say, “Yes, my heart is ready.”

Ah! then he will come and dwell with you.

“Joy to the world the Savior comes,

The Savior promised long;

Let every heart prepare a throne

And every voice a song.”

But I must remind you … that if you have room for Christ, then from this day forth remember THE WORLD HAS NO ROOM FOR YOU; for the text says not only that there was no room for him, but look — “There was no room for them,” — no room for Joseph, nor for Mary, any more than for the babe.

Who are his father, and mother, and sister, and brother, but those that receive his word and keep it?  So, as there was no room for the blessed Virgin, nor for the reputed father, remember henceforth there is no room in this world for any true follower of Christ.  There is no room for you to take your ease; no, you are to be a soldier of the cross, and you will find no ease in all your life-warfare.  There is no room for you to sit down contented with your own attainments, for you are a traveler, and you are to forget the things that are behind, and press forward to that which is before; no room for you to hide your treasure in, for here the moth and rust doth corrupt; no room for you to put your confidence, for “Cursed is he that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm.”  From this day there will be no room for you in the world’s good opinion — they will count you to be an offscouring; no room for you in the world’s polite society — you must go without the camp, bearing his reproach. From this time forth, I say, if you have room for Christ, the world will hardly find room of sufferance for you; you must expect now to be laughed at; now you must wear the fool’s cap in men’s esteem; and your song must be at the very beginning of your pilgrimage.

“Jesus, I thy cross have taken,

All to leave and follow thee;

Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,

Thou from hence my all shall be.”

There is no room for you in the worldling’s love.  If you expect that everybody will praise you, and that your good actions will all be applauded, you will quite be mistaken.  The world, I say, has no room for the man who has room for Christ.  If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. “Woe unto you when all men speak well of you.”  “Ye are not of the world, even as Christ is not of the world.”  Thank God, you need not ask the world’s hospitality.  If it will give you but a stage for action and lend you for an hour a grave to sleep in, ‘tis all you need; you will require no permanent dwelling-place here, since you seek a city that is to come, which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God.  You are hurrying through this world as a stranger through a foreign land, and you rejoice to know that though you are an alien and a foreigner here, yet you are a fellow citizen with the saints, and of the household to God.  What say you, young soldier, will you enlist on such terms as these?  Will you give room for Christ when there is to be henceforth no room for you — when you are to be separated forever, cut off from among the world’s kith and kin mayhap — cut off from carnal confidence forever? Are you willing, notwithstanding all this, to receive the traveler in?  The Lord help you to do so and to him shall be glory forever and ever.  Amen.

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The Day of Atonement by C. H. Spurgeon

“This shall be an everlasting statute unto you, to make an atonement for the children of Israel for all their sins once a year.”—Leviticus 16:34

The Jews had many striking ceremonies which marvelously set forth the death of Jesus Christ as the great expiation of our guilt and the salvation of our souls.  One of the chief of these was the day of atonement, which I believe was pre-eminently intended to typify that great day of vengeance of our God, which was also the great day of acceptance of our souls, when Jesus Christ “died, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.”  That day of atonement happened only once a year, to teach us that only once should Jesus Christ die; and that though he would come a second time, yet it would be without a sin offering unto salvation. The lambs were perpetually slaughtered; morning and evening they offered sacrifice to God, to remind the people that they always needed a sacrifice; but the day of atonement being the type of the one great propitiation, it was but once a year that the high priest entered within the veil with blood as the atonement for the sins of the people.  And this was on a certain set and appointed time; it was not left to the choice of Moses, or to the convenience of Aaron, or to any other circumstance which might affect the date; it was appointed to be on a peculiar set day, as you find at the 29th verse: “In the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month;” and at no other time was the day of atonement to be, to show us that God’s great day of atonement was appointed and predestinated by himself. Christ’s expiation occurred but once, and then not by any chance; God had settled it from before the foundation of the world; and at that hour when God had predestinated, on that very day that God had decreed that Christ should die, was he led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers he was dumb.  It was but once a year, because the sacrifice should be once; it was at an appointed time in the year, because in the fulness of time Jesus Christ should come into the world to die for us.

Now, I shall invite your attention to the ceremonies of this solemn day, taking the different parts in detail.  First, we shall consider the person who made the atonement; secondly, the sacrifice whereby the atonement was typically made; thirdly, the effects of the atonement; and fourthly, our behavior on the recollection of the atonement, as well set forth by the conduct prescribed to the Israelites on that day.

<!–[if supportFields]>PRIVATE “TYPE=PICT;ALT=    “<![endif]–><!–[if supportFields]><![endif]–>I. First, THE PERSON WHO WAS TO MAKE THE ATONEMENT.

And at the outset, we remark that Aaron, the high priest, did it.  “Thus shall Aaron come into the holy place; with a young bullock for a sin offering, and a ram for a burnt offering.”  Inferior priests slaughtered lambs; other priests at other times did almost all the work of the sanctuary; but on this day nothing was done by any one, as a part of the business of the great day of atonement, except by the high priest.  Old rabbinical traditions tell us that everything on that day was done by him, even the lighting of the candles, and the fires, and the incense, and all the offices that were required, and that, for a fortnight beforehand, he was obliged to go into the tabernacle to slaughter the bullocks and assist in the work of the priests and Levites, that he might be prepared to do the work which was unusual to him.  All the labor was left to him. So, beloved, Jesus Christ, the High Priest, and he only, works the atonement.  There are other priests, for “he hath made us priests and kings unto God.”  Every Christian is a priest to offer sacrifice of prayer and praise unto God, but none save the High Priest must offer atonement; he, and he alone, must go within the veil; he must slaughter the goat and sprinkle the blood; for though thanksgiving is shared in by all Christ’s elect body, atonement remains alone to him, the High Priest.

Then it is interesting to notice, that the high priest on this day was a humbled priest.  You read in the 4th verse, “He shall put on the holy linen coat, and he shall have the linen breeches upon his flesh, and shall be girded with a linen girdle, and with linen mitre shall he be attired: these are holy garments.”  On other days he wore what the people were accustomed to call the golden garments; he had the mitre with a plate of pure gold around his brow, tied with brilliant blue; the splendid breastplate, studded with gems, adorned with pure gold and set with precious stones; the glorious ephod, the tinkling bells, and all the other ornaments, wherewith he came before the people as the accepted high priest.  But on this day he had none of them.  The golden mitre was laid aside, the embroidered vest was put away, the breastplate was taken off, and he came out simply with the holy linen coat, the linen breeches, the linen mitre, and girded with a linen girdle.  On that day he humbled himself just as the people humbled themselves.  Now, that is a notable circumstance.  You will see sundry other passages in the references which will bear this out, that the priest’s dress on this day was different.  As Mayer tells us, he wore garments, and glorious ones, on other days, but on this day he wore four humble ones.  Jesus Christ, then, when he made atonement, was a humbled priest.  He did not make atonement arrayed in all the glories of his ancient throne in heaven.  Upon his brow there was no diadem, save the crown of thorns; around him was cast no purple robe, save that which he wore for a time in mockery; on his head was no scepter, save the reed which they thrust in cruel contempt upon him; he had no sandals of pure gold, neither was he dressed as king; he had none of those splendors about him which should make him mighty and distinguished among men; he came out in his simple body, ay, in his naked body, for they stripped off even the common robe from him, and made him hang before God’s sun and God’s universe, naked, to his shame, and to the disgrace of those who chose to do so cruel and dastardly a deed.  Oh! my soul, adore thy Jesus, who when he made atonement, humbled himself and wrapped around him a garb of thine inferior clay.  Oh! angels, ye can understand what were the glories that he laid aside.  Oh! thrones, and principalities, and powers, ye can tell what was the diadem with which he dispensed, and what, the robes he laid aside to wrap himself in earthly garbs.  But, men, ye can scarce tell how glorious is your High Priest now, and ye can scarce tell how glorious he was before.  But oh! adore him, for on that day it was the simple clean linen of his own body, of his own humanity, in which he made atonement for your sins.

In the next place, the high priest who offered the atonement must be a spotless high priest; and because there were none such to be found, Aaron being a sinner himself as well as the people, you will remark that Aaron had to sanctify himself and make atonement for his own sin before he could go in to make an atonement for the sins of the people.  In the 3rd verse you read, “Thus shall Aaron come into the holy place: with a young bullock for a sin offering, and a ram for a burnt offering.”  These were for himself.  In the 6th verse it is said, “And Aaron shall offer his bullock of the sin offering, which is for himself, and make an atonement for himself, and for his house.”  Yea, more, before he went within the veil with the blood of the goat which was the atonement for the people, he had to go within the veil to make atonement there for himself. In the 11th, 12th, and 13th verses, it is said, “And Aaron shall bring the bullock of the sin offering, which is for himself, and shall make an atonement for himself, and for his house, and shall kill the bullock of the sin offering, which is for himself.  And he shall take a censer full of burning coals of fire from off the altar before the Lord, and his hands full of sweet incense beaten small, and bring it within the veil.  And he shall put the incense upon the fire before the Lord that the cloud of the incense may cover the mercy seat that is upon the testimony that he die not.”  “And he shall take of the blood of the bullock (that is, the bullock that he killed for himself), and sprinkle it with his finger upon the mercy seat eastward; and before the mercy seat shall he sprinkle of the blood with his finger seven times.”  This was before he killed the goat, for it says, “Then shall he kill the goat.”  Before he took the blood which was a type of Christ within the veil, he took the blood (which was a type of Christ in another sense), wherewith he purified himself.  Aaron must not go within the veil until by the bullock his sins had been typically expiated, nor even then without the burning smoking incense before his face, lest God should look on him, and he should die, being an impure mortal.  Moreover, the Jews tell us that Aaron had to wash himself, I think, five times in the day; and it is said in this chapter that he had to wash himself many times.  We read in the 4th verse, “These are holy garments; therefore shall he wash his flesh in water, and so put them on.”  And at the 24th verse, “He shall wash his flesh with water in the holy place, and put on his garments.”

So you see it was strictly provided for that Aaron on that day should be a spotless priest.  He could not be so as to nature, but, ceremonially, care was taken that he should be clean.  He was washed over and over again in the sacred bath.  And besides that, there was the blood of the bullock and the smoke of the incense, that he might be acceptable before God.  Ah! beloved, and we have a spotless High Priest; we have one who needed no washing, for he had no filth to wash away; we have one who needed no atonement for himself, for he, forever, might have sat down at the right hand of God, and ne’er have come on earth at all.  He was pure and spotless; he needed no incense to wave before the mercy seat to hide the angry face of justice; he needed nothing to hide and shelter him; he was all pure and clean.  Oh! bow down and adore him, for if he had not been a holy High Priest, he could never have taken thy sins upon himself, and never have made intercession for thee.  Oh! reverence him, that, spotless as he was, he should come into this world and say, “For this cause I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified through the truth.”  Adore and love him, the spotless High Priest, who, on the day of atonement took away thy guilt.

Again, the atonement was made by a solitary high priest—alone and unassisted.  You read in the 17th verse, “And there shall be no man in the tabernacle of the congregation when he goeth in to make an atonement in the holy place, until he come out, and have made an atonement for himself, and for his household, and for all the congregation of Israel.”  No other man was to be present, so that the people might be quite certain that everything was done by the high priest alone.  It is remarkable, as Matthew Henry observes, that no disciple died with Christ.  When he was put to death, his disciples forsook him and fled; they crucified none of his followers with him, lest any should suppose that the disciple shared the honor of atonement.  Thieves were crucified with him because none would suspect that they could assist him; but if a disciple had died, it might have been imagined that he had shared the atonement.  God kept that holy circle of Calvary select to Christ, and none of his disciples must go to die there with him.  O glorious High Priest, thou hast done it all alone.  O, glorious antitype of Aaron, no son of thine stood with thee; no Eliezer, no Phineas, burned incense; there was no priest, no Levite save himself.  “I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with me.”  Then give all the glory unto his holy name, for alone and unassisted he made atonement for your guilt.  The bath of his blood is your only washing; the stream of water from his side is your perfect purification.  None but Jesus, none but Jesus, has wrought out the work of our salvation.

Again, it was a laborious high priest who did the work on that day.  It is astonishing how, after comparative rest, he should be so accustomed to his work as to be able to perform all that he had to do on that day.  I have endeavored to count up how many creatures he had to kill, and I find that there were fifteen beasts which he slaughtered at different times, besides the other offices, which were all left to him.  In the first place, there were the two lambs, one offered in the morning, and the other in the evening; they were never omitted, being a perpetual ordinance.  On this day the high priest killed those two lambs.  Further, if you will turn to Numbers 29:7-11, “And ye shall have on the tenth day of this seventh month an holy convocation; and ye shall afflict your souls: ye shall not do any work therein: But ye shall offer a burnt unto the Lord for a sweet savor; one young bullock, one ram, and seven lambs of the first year; they shall be unto you without blemish: And their meat offering shall be of flour mingled with oil, three tenth deals to a bullock, and two tenth deals to one ram.  A several tenth deal for one lamb, throughout the seven lambs: One kid of the goats for a sin offering: besides the sin offering of atonement, and the continual burnt offering, and the meat offering of it, and their drink offerings.”  Here, then, was one bullock, a ram, seven lambs, and a kid of the goats; making ten.  The two lambs made twelve.  And in the chapter we have been studying, it is said in the 3rd verse: “Thus shall Aaron come into the holy place: with a young bullock for a sin offering, and a ram for a burnt offering;” which makes the number fourteen.  Then, after that, we find there were two goats, but only one of them was killed, the other being allowed to go away.  Thus, then, there were fifteen beasts to be slaughtered, besides the burnt offerings of thanksgiving which were offered by way of showing that the people now desired to dedicate themselves to the Lord from gratitude, that the atonement of sin offering had been accepted.  He who was ordained priest in Jeshurun, for that day, toiled like a common Levite, worked as laboriously as priest could do, and far more so than on any ordinary day.

Just so with our Lord Jesus Christ.  Oh, what a labor the atonement was to him!  It was a work that all the hands of the universe could not have accomplished; yet he completed it alone.  It was a work more laborious than the treading of the wine-press, and his frame, unless sustained by the divinity within, could scarce have borne such stupendous labor.  There was the bloody sweat in Gethsemane; there was the watching all night, just as the high priest did for fear that uncleanness might touch him; there was the hooting and the scorn which he suffered every day before—something like the continual offering of the Lamb; then there came the shame, the spitting, the cruel flagellations in Pilate’s hall; then there was the via dolorosa through Jerusalem’s sad streets; then came the hanging on the cross, with the weight of his people’s sins on his shoulders.  Ay, it was a Divine labor that our great High Priest did on that day—a labor mightier than the making of the world: it was the new making of a world, the taking of its sins upon his Almighty shoulders and casting them into the depths of the sea.  The atonement was made by a toilsome laborious High Priest, who worked, indeed, that day; and Jesus, thought he had toiled before, yet never worked as he did on that wondrous day of atonement.

<!–[if supportFields]>PRIVATE “TYPE=PICT;ALT=    “<![endif]–><!–[if supportFields]><![endif]–>II. Thus have I led you to consider the person who made the atonement: let us now consider for a moment or two THE MEANS WHEREBY THIS ATONEMENT WAS MADE. You read at the 5th verse, “And he shall take of the congregation of the children of Israel two kids of the goats for a sin offering, and one ram for a burnt offering.”  And at the 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th verses, “And he shall take the two goats, and present them before the Lord at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.  And Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats; one lot for the Lord, and the other lot for the scapegoat.  And Aaron shall bring the goat upon which the Lord’s lot fell, and offer him for a sin offering.  But the goat, on which the lot fell to be the scapegoat, shall be presented alive before the Lord, to make an atonement with him, and to let him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.”  The first goat I considered to be the great type of Jesus Christ the atonement: such I do not consider the scapegoat to be.  The first is a type of the means whereby the atonement was made, and we shall keep to that first.

Notice that this goat, of course, answered all the pre-requisites of every other thing that was sacrificed; it must be a perfect, unblemished goat of the first year.  Even so was our Lord a perfect man, in the prime and vigor of his manhood.  And further, this goat was an eminent type of Christ from the fact that it was taken of the congregation of the children of Israel, as we are told at the 5th verse.  The public treasury furnished the goat.  So, beloved, Jesus Christ was, first of all, purchased by the public treasury of the Jewish people before he died.  Thirty pieces of silver they had valued him at, a goodly price; and as they had been accustomed to bring the goat, so they brought him to be offered: not, indeed, with the intention that he should be their sacrifice, but unwittingly they fulfilled this when they brought him to Pilate, and cried, “Crucify him, crucify him!”  Oh, beloved! Indeed, Jesus Christ came out from the midst of the people, and the people brought him.  Strange that it should be so!  “He came unto his own, and his own received him not;” his own led him forth to slaughter; his own dragged him before the mercy seat.

Note, again, that though this goat, like the scapegoat, was brought by the people, God’s decision was in it still.  Mark, it is said, “Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats: one lot for the Lord, and the other lot for the scapegoat.”  I conceive this mention of lots is to teach that although the Jews brought Jesus Christ of their own will to die, yet, Christ had been appointed to die; and even the very man who sold him was appointed to it—so saith the Scripture. Christ’s death was fore-ordained, and there was not only man’s hand in it, but God’s.  “The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.”  So it is true that man put Christ to death, but it was of the Lord’s disposal that Jesus Christ was slaughtered, “the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.”

Next, behold the goat that destiny has marked out to make the atonement.  Come and see it die.  The priest stabs it.  Mark it in its agonies; behold it struggling for a moment; observe the blood as it gushes forth. Christians, ye have here your Savior.  See his Father’s vengeful sword sheathed in his heart; behold his death agonies; see the clammy sweat upon his brow; mark his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth; hear his sighs and groans upon the cross; hark to his shriek, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani,” and you have more now to think of than you could have if you only stood to see the death of a goat for your atonement.  Mark the blood as from his wounded hands it flows, and from his feet it finds a channel to the earth; from his open side in one great river see it gush.  As the blood of the goat made the atonement typically, so, Christian, thy Savior dying for thee, made the great atonement for thy sins, and thou mayest go free.

But mark, this goat’s blood was not only shed for many for the remission of sins as a type of Christ, but that blood was taken within the veil, and there it was sprinkled.  So with Jesus’ blood, “Sprinkled now with blood the throne.”  The blood of other beasts (save only of the bullock) was offered before the Lord, and was not brought into the most holy place; but this goat’s blood was sprinkled on the mercy seat, and before the mercy seat, to make an atonement.  So, O child of God, thy Savior’s blood has made atonement within the veil; he has taken it there himself; his own merits and his own agonies are now within the veil of glory, sprinkled now before the throne.  O glorious sacrifice, as well as High Priest, we would adore thee, for by thy one offering hot hast made atonement forever, even as this one slaughtered goat made atonement once in a year for the sins of all the people.

<!–[if supportFields]>PRIVATE “TYPE=PICT;ALT=    “<![endif]–><!–[if supportFields]><![endif]–>III. We now come to the EFFECTS.

One of the first effects of the death of this goat was sanctification of the holy things which had been made unholy. You read at the end of the 15th verse, “He shall sprinkle it upon the mercy seat: and he shall make an atonement for the holy place, because of the uncleanness of the children of Israel, and because of their transgressions in all their sins: and so shall he do for the tabernacle of the congregation, that remaineth among them in the midst of their uncleanness.” The holy place was made unholy by the people. Where God dwelt should be holy, but where man comes there must be some degree of unholiness. This blood of the goat made the unholy place holy. It was a sweet reflection to me as I came here this morning. I thought, “I am going to the house of God, and that house is a holy place;” but when I thought how many sinners had trodden its floors, how many unholy ones had joined in its songs, I thought, “Ah! it has been made defiled; but oh! there is no fear, for the blood of Jesus has made it holy again.” “Ah!” I thought, “there is our poor prayer that we shall offer: it is a holy prayer, for God the Holy Spirit dictates it, but then it is an unholy prayer, for we have uttered it, and that which cometh out of unholy lips like ours, must be tainted.” “But ah!” I thought again, “it is a prayer that has been sprinkled with blood, and therefore it must be a holy prayer.” And as I looked on all the harps of this sanctuary, typical of your praises, and on all the censers of this tabernacle, typical of your prayers, I thought within myself, “There is blood on them all; our holy service this day has been sprinkled with the blood of the great Jesus, and as such it will be accepted through him.” Oh! beloved, it is not sweet to reflect that our holy things are now really holy; that through sin is mixed with them all, and we think them defiled, yet they are not, for the blood has washed out every stain; and the service this day is as holy in God’s sight as the service of the cherubim, and is acceptable as the psalms of the glorified; we have washed our worship in the blood of the Lamb, and it is accepted through him.

But observe, the second great fact was that their sins were taken away.  This was set forth by the scapegoat.  You read at the 20th, “And when he hath made an end of reconciling the holy place, and the tabernacle of the congregation, and the altar, he shall bring the live goat: And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away by the hand of a fit man into the wilderness: And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited, and he shall let go the goat in the wilderness.”  When that was done, you see, the great and wonderful atonement was finished, and the effects of it were set forth to the people.

Now, I do not know how many opinions there are about this scapegoat.  One of the most strange opinions to me is that which is held by a very large portion of learned men, and I see it is put in the margin of my Bible.  Many learned men thing that this word scapegoat, Azazel, was the name of the devil who was worshipped by the heathen in the form of a goat; and they tell us that the first goat was offered to God as an atonement for sin, and the other went away to be tormented by the devil, and was called Azazel, just as Jesus was tormented by Satan in the wilderness.  To this opinion, it is enough to object that it is difficult to conceive when the other goat was offered to God, this should be sent among demons.  Indeed, the opinion is too gross for belief.  It needs only to be mentioned to be refuted.  Now the first goat is the Lord Jesus Christ making atonement by his death for the sins of the people; the second is sent away into the wilderness, and nothing is heard of it any more forever; and here a difficulty suggests itself—“Did Jesus Christ go where he was never heard of any more forever?”  That is what we have not to consider al all.  The first goat was a type of the atonement; the second is the type of the effect of the atonement.  The second goat went away, after the first was slaughtered, carrying the sins of the people on its head, and so it sets froth, as a scapegoat, how our sins are carried away into the depth of the wilderness.  There was this year exhibited in the Art Union a fine picture of the scapegoat dying in the wilderness: it was represented with a burning sky above it, its feet sticking in the mire, surrounded by hundreds of skeletons, and there dying a doleful and miserable death.  Now, that was just a piece of gratuitous nonsense, for there is nothing the Scripture that warrants it in the least degree.  The rabbis tell us that this goat was taken by a man into the wilderness and here tumbled down a high rock to die; but, as an excellent commentator says, if the man did push it down the rock he more than God ever told him to do.  God told him to take a goat and let it go: as to what became of it neither you nor I know anything; that is purposely left.  Our Lord Jesus Christ has taken away our sins upon his head, just as the scapegoat, and he is gone from us—that is all: the goat was not a type in its dying, or in regard to its subsequent fate.  God has only told us that it should be taken by the hand of a fit man into the wilderness.

The most correct account seems to be that of one Rabbi Jarchi, who says that they generally took the goat twelve miles out of Jerusalem, and at each mile there was a booth provided where the man who took it might refresh himself till he came to the tenth mile, when there was no more rest for him till he had seen the goat go.  When he had come to the last mile he stood and looked at the goat till it was gone, and he could see it no more. Then the people’s sins were all gone too.  Now, what a fine type that is if you do not enquire any further! But if you will get meddling where God intended you to be in ignorance, you will get nothing by it.  This scapegoat was not designed to show us the victim or the sacrifice, but simply what became of the sins.  The sins of the people are confessed upon that head; the goat is going; the people lose sight of it; a fit man goes with it; the sins are going from them, and now the man has arrived at his destination; the man sees the goat in the distance skipping here and there overt the mountains, glad of its liberty; it is not quite gone; a little farther, and now it is lost to sight.  The man returns, and says he can no longer see it; then the people clap their hands, for their sins are all gone too.  Oh! soul; canst thou see thy sins all gone?  We may have to take a long journey, and carry our sins with us; but oh! how we watch and watch till they are utterly cast into the depths of the wilderness of forgetfulness, where they shall never be found any more against us forever.  But mark, this goat did not sacrificially make the atonement; it was a type of the sins going away, and so it was a type of the atonement; for you know, since our sins are thereby lost, it is the fruit of the atonement; but the sacrifice is the means of making it.  So we have this great and glorious thought before us, that by the death of Christ there was full, free, perfect remission for all those whose sins are laid upon his head.  For I would have you notice that on this day all sins were laid on the scapegoat’s head—sins of presumption, sins of ignorance, sins of uncleanness, sins little and sins great, sins few and sins many, sins against the law, sins against morality, sins against ceremonies, sins of all kinds were taken away on that great day of atonement.  Sinner, oh, that thou hadst a share in my Master’s atonement!  Oh! that thou couldst see him slaughtered on the cross!  Then mightest thou see him go away leading captivity captive, and taking thy sins where they might ne’er be found.

I have now an interesting fact to tell you, and I am sure you will think it worth mentioning.  Turn to Leviticus 25:9, and you will read: “Then shalt thou cause the trumpet of the jubilee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month, in the day of atonement shall yet make the trumpet sound throughout all your land.”  So that one of the effects of the atonement was set forth to us in the fact that when the year of jubilee came, it was not on the first day of the year that it was proclaimed, but “on the tenth day of the seventh month.”  Ay, methinks, that was the best part of it.  The scapegoat is gone, and the sins are gone, and no sooner are they gone than the silver trumpet sounds,

“The year of jubilee is to come,
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.”

On that day sinners go free; on that day our poor mortgaged lands are liberated, and our poor estates which have been forfeited by our spiritual bankruptcy are all returned to us.  So when Jesus dies, slaves win their liberty, and lost ones receive spiritual life again; when he dies, heaven, the long lost inheritance is ours.  Blessed day!  Atonement and jubilee ought to go together.  Have you ever had a jubilee, my friends, in your hearts?  If you have not, I can tell you it is because you have not had a day of atonement.

One more thought concerning the effects of this great day of atonement, and you will observe that it runs throughout the whole of the chapter—entrance within the veil.  Only on one day in the year might the high priest enter within the veil, and then it must be for the great purposes of the atonement.  Now, beloved, the atonement is finished, and you may enter within the veil: “Having boldness, therefore, to enter into the holiest, let us come with boldness into the throne of the heavenly grace.”  The veil of the temple is rent by the atonement of Christ, and access to the throne is now ours.  O child of God, I know not of any privilege which thou hast, save fellowship with Christ, which is more valuable than access to the throne.  Access to the mercy seat is one of the greatest blessings mortals can enjoy.

Precious throne of grace!  I never should have had any right to come there if it had not been for the day of atonement; I never should have been able to come there if the throne had not been sprinkled with the blood.

<!–[if supportFields]>PRIVATE “TYPE=PICT;ALT=    “<![endif]–><!–[if supportFields]><![endif]–>IV. Now we come to notice, in the fourth place, what is our PROPER BEHAVIOUR WHEN WE CONSIDER THE DAY OF ATONEMENT. You read at the 29th verse, “And this shall be a statute forever unto you: that in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, ye shall afflict your souls.”  That is one thing that we ought to do when we remember the atonement.  Sure, sinner, there is nothing that move thee to repentance like the thought of that great sacrifice of Christ which is necessary to wash away thy guilt.  “Law and terrors do but harden.” but methinks, the thought that Jesus died is enough to make us melt.  It is well, when we hear the name of Calvary, always to shed a tear, for there is nothing that ought to make a sinner weep like the mention of the death of Jesus.  On that day “ye shall afflict your souls.”  And even you, ye Christians, when ye think that your Savior died, should afflict your souls: ye should say,

“Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
And did my Sov’reign die?
Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?”

Drops of grief ought to flow, ay, streams of undissembled sympathy with him; to show our grief for what we did to pierce the Savior.  “Afflict your souls,” O ye children of Israel, for the Day of Atonement is come.  Weep o’er your Jesus; weep for him that died; weep for him who was murdered by your sins, and “afflict your souls.”

Then, better still, we are to “do not work at all,” as ye find the same verse, 29th.  When we consider the atonement, we should rest, and “do no work at all.”  Rest from your works as God did from his on the great Sabbath of the world; rest from your own righteousness; rest from your toilsome duties: rest in him.  “We that believe do enter into rest.”  As soon as thou seest the atonement finished, say, “it is done, it is done?  Now will I serve my God with zeal, but now I will no longer seek to save myself, it is done, it is done for aye.”

Then there was another thing which always happened.  When the priest had made the atonement, it was usual for him, after he had washed himself, to come out again in his glorious garments.  When the people saw him they attended him to his house with joy, and they offered burnt offerings of praise on that day: he being thankful that his life was spared, (having been allowed to go into the holy place and to come out of it) and they being thankful that the atonement was accepted; both of them offering burnt offerings as a type that they desired now to be “a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God.”  Beloved, let us go into our houses with joy; let us go into our gates with praise.  The atonement is finished; the High Priest is gone within the veil; salvation is now complete.  He has laid aside the linen garments, and he stands before you with his breastplate, and his mitre, and his embroidered vest, in all his glory.  Hear how he rejoices over us, for he hath redeemed his people, and ransomed them out of the hands of his enemies.  Come, let us go home with the High Priest; let us clap our hands with joy, for he liveth, he liveth; the atonement is accepted, and we are accepted too; the scapegoat is gone, our sins are gone with it.  Let us then go to our houses with thankfulness, and let us come up to his gates with praise, for he hath loved his people, he hath blessed his children, and given unto us a day of atonement, and a day of acceptance, and a year of jubilee.  Praise ye the Lord!

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The Word Appreciated by C. H. Spurgeon

“How sweet are thy words unto my taste!  Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” — Psalm 119:103

It is delightful to find how exactly the experience of David, under the Jewish dispensation, tallies with the experience of the saints of God in these gospel times.  David lived in an age of miracles and divers manifestations.  He could have recourse to the Urim and the Thummim and the priesthood; he could go up to Zion and listen to the holy songs of the great assembly; he could converse with the priesthood; but, still, the food of his soul was supplied to him from the written Word of God, just as it is with us now.  As that is the food of our souls, so it was the food of David’s soul.

Martin Luther says, “I have covenanted with the Lord that I would neither ask him for visions, nor for angels, nor for miracles, but I would be satisfied with his own Word, and if I might but lay hold upon Scripture by faith, that shall be enough for me.”  Now it seems to be so with David here.  The honey that gratifies his taste is not found in angels’ visits or miraculous signs or officiating priesthoods or special revelations, but in the words of God’s mouth and in the testimonies of Holy Writ.

Let us, then dear brethren, prize this Book of God.  Be not ambitious, as some are, of seeking new revelations, or enquire for the whispers of disembodied spirits, but be satisfied with this good household bread which God has prepared for his people; and while others may loathe and dislike it, let us be thankful for it and acknowledge with gratitude the bread which came down from heaven, testifying to us, as it does, of the Lord Jesus, the Word of life that liveth and abideth forever.

This exclamation of David is clear proof that he set the highest possible value upon the Word of God.  The evidence is more valuable, because the Scripture that David had was but a slender book compared with this volume which is now before us.  I suppose he had little more than the five Books of Moses, and yet, as he opened that Pentateuch, he said, “How sweet are thy words unto my taste!”  If that first morsel so satisfied the psalmist, surely this fuller and richer feast of heavenly dainties ought to be yet more gratifying to us.  If, when God had but given him the first dish of the course, and that by no means the best, his soul was ravished with it, how should you and I rejoice with joy unspeakable, now that the King has brought on royal dainties and given us the revelation of his dear Son!

Think a minute.  The Pentateuch is what we would call, nowadays, the historical part of Scripture; and haven’t you frequently heard persons say, “Oh, the minister read a passage out of the historical parts of the Word.”  I have, with great pain, heard persons speak in a very depreciating manner of the histories of Holy Writ.  Now, understand this.  The part of the Word which David loved so much is mainly historical, and if the mere history of the Word was so sweet, what ought those holy Gospels and sacred Epistles to be which declare the mystery of that narrative — which are the honey whereof the Old Testament is but the comb — which are the treasures of which the Old Testament is but the casket?  Surely we are to be condemned indeed who do not prize the Word now that we have it all.

That Word of God, which David so much prized, was mainly typical, shadowy, symbolical.  I do not know that he understood it all.  I do know that he understood some of it, for some of his Psalms are so evangelical that he must have perceived the great sacrifice of God foreshadowed in the sacrifices described in the books of Numbers and Leviticus, or it would not have been possible that he should, in so marvelous a style, express his faith in the great offering of our Lord Jesus.  I put it to some professors here: do you often read these at all?  If, now, your Bible was so circumscribed that all was taken from you but the Pentateuch, would you be able, to say, “Thy Word is sweet unto my taste?”  Are not many of us so little educated in God’s Word that, if we were confined to the reading of that part of it, we should be obliged to confess it was unprofitable to us?  We could not give a good answer to Philip’s question, “Understandest thou what thou readest?”  Oh, shame upon us that, with so many more Books, and with the Holy Spirit so plenteously given to guide us into all truth, we should seem to value at least half of the Word of God even less than David did!

A great portion of the Pentateuch is taken up with precepts, and I may say of some of them that they are grievous.  Those commandments which are binding upon us are not grievous.  Some of the commands of Leviticus and Deuteronomy are so complex, that they were a yoke of bondage, according to Peter, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear.  Yet, that wondrous 20th chapter of Exodus with its ten commandments and all the long list of the precepts of the ceremonial law, which you may perhaps account wearisome to read, David says were sweet to his taste, sweeter than honey to his mouth.  What!  Did he so love to hear his heavenly Father speak that it did not much matter to him what he said so long as he did but speak, for the music of his voice was gladdening in its every tone to him?  Now that you and I know that all the bondage of the ceremonial law is gone, that nothing remains of it but blessing to our souls, and now that we are not under the law, but under grace, and have become inheritors of rich and precious and unspeakably great promises, how is it that we fall so far short, and do not, I fear, love the Word of God to anything like the degree that David loved it?

David here speaks of all God’s words, without making any distinction concerning some one of them.  So long as it was God’s Word, it was sweet to him, whatever form it might take. Alas, this is not true of all professors.  With an unwise partiality, they pronounce some of God’s words as very sweet, but other portions of God’s truth are rather sour and unsavory to their palates.  There are persons of a certain class who delight in the doctrines of grace.  Therein they are to be commended, for which of us do not delight in them if we know our interest in them?  The covenant and the great truths which grow out of the covenant, these are unspeakably precious things and are rightly enough the subjects of joy to all believers who understand them.  Yet certain of these persons will be as angry as though you had touched them with a hot iron if you should bring a precept anywhere near them; and if you insist upon anything being the duty of a believer, the very words seem to sting them like a whip; they cannot endure it.  If you speak of the “holiness without which no man shall see the Lord,” and speak of it as a holiness which is wrought in us by God the Holy Spirit and as a holiness of mind and thought and action — a personal holiness which is to be seen in the daily life — they are offended.  They can say, “How sweet are thy doctrinal words to my taste, but not thy precepts, Lord; those I do not love; those I call legal.  If thy servants minister them, I say they are gendering bondage and I go away from them and leave them as Arminians or duty-faith men or something of that kind; for I love half thy Word and only half of it.”  Alas, there are not a few of that class to be found every here and there.

And there are some who go on the other side they love God’s Word in the precepts of it, or the promises, but not the doctrines.  If the doctrine be preached, they say it is dangerous — too high; it will elevate some of God’s servants to presumption it will tempt them to think lightly of moral distinctions; it will lead them to walk carelessly, because they know they are safe in Christ.  Thus they love one half of the truth and not the whole of it.  But, my dear brethren and sisters, I hope you are of the same mind as David.  If God shall give you a promise, you will taste it, like a wafer of honey, and feed on it; and if he shall give you a precept, you will not stop to look at it, and say, “Lord, I don’t like this as well as the promise;” but you will receive that and feed upon that also.  And when the Lord shall be pleased afterwards to give you some revelation with regard to your inward experience or to your fellowship with his dear Son, you welcome it with joy, because you love any truth and every truth so long as you know it to be the truth of God’s own Word.

It is a blessed sign of grace in the heart when God’s words are sweet to us as a whole — when we love the truth, not cast into a system or a shape,  but as we find it in God’s Word.  I believe that no man who has yet lived has ever proposed a system of theology which comprises all the truth of God’s Word.  If such a system had been possible, the discovery of it would have been made for us by God himself: certainly it would if it had been desirable and useful for our profit and holiness.  But it has not pleased God to give us a body of divinity; let us receive it as he has given it each truth in its own proportion — each doctrine in harmony with its fellow — each precept carefully carried out into practice and each promise to be believed and by-and-by received.  Let the truth and the whole truth, be sweet to our taste.  “How sweet are thy words!”

There seems to be an emphasis on the pronoun, “How sweet are thy words!”  O my God, if the words be thine, they are sweet to me.  Had they come to me from the prophet, and I had perceived them to be merely the words of man, I might then have estimated them at their own weight, without reference to their authority; but when my Father speaks, when the Spirit lives and breathes in the truth to which I listen, when Jesus Christ himself draws near to me in the preaching of the gospel — then it is that the Word becomes sweet unto my taste.  Beloved, let us not be satisfied with the truth except we can also feel it to be God’s truth.  Let us ask the Lord to enable us, when we open this Book, to feel that we are not reading it as we read a common book — truths put there by some means, unimportant to us how; but let us recollect that we are reading truth put there by an inspired pen — that we have there God’s truth such as he would have us receive — such as he thought it worth his while to write and to preserve to all ages for our instruction.

The psalmist is not content to say, “God’s Word is sweet, and sweeter than honey,” but “How sweet are thy words unto my taste!  Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!”  After all, the blessedness of the Word is a matter to be ascertained by personal experience.  Let others choose this philosophy and that form of thought, let them gad abroad after the beauties of poetry, or dote upon the charms of oratory; my palate shall be satisfied with thy Word, O God, and my soul shall find an excess of sweetness in the things which come from thy mouth into my mouth!

The Word of God, then, while in itself certainly most sweet, and all the sweeter when we recognize it as coming from God, will only be sweet to us in proportion as we are able to receive it and to feed upon it.  Every man must in this case feed for himself.  There can be no proxy here.  I wonder not at those who think lightly of God’s Word, notwithstanding the rapturous admiration they have heard expressed by others; for, unless they have tasted it, and felt and handled it, they still must be strangers to its unspeakable sweetness.

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Lukewarmness in the Pulpit by C. H. Spurgeon

“I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth.” Revelation 3:15-16

Yet once more, notice that, wherever there is lukewarmness in religious matters, it is out of place. There is no spot, near to the throne of God, where lukewarmness could stand in a seemly position. Take the pulpit, for instance. Ah, my brethren, of all spots in the world, if lukewarmness cometh here, then is the preacher indeed undone!  He should be, of all men, the most in earnest who undertakes the charge of souls, for he has that solemn charge ringing in his ears: “I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.  When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand.”  They who have to deal with hardhearted sinners – they who have to preach unpalatable truths – surely they should not make men’s hearts harder, and the truth more unpalatable, by uttering it in a half-hearted manner.  It will go hard with the man who has exercised his ministry with indifference.  “If,” said one of old, “there be a man who finds the ministry an easy place, he will find it a hard matter, at the last, to give in his account before God.”  If, my brethren, there should be any professed ministers of Christ, who never know what it is to travail in birth for souls; if there be men who take up the ministry merely as a profession and exercise it as they might do in any secular calling if they preach merely as a matter of routine or because they consider it is a pleasant occupation; it would have been better for them if they had never been born.  Far better would it have been for them to have broken stones by the wayside than to have been preaching the gospel and leaving their hearts out of their sermon; yea, I know not whether it would not have been better to have been a devil in hell than to have been a minister in the pulpit without his heart in his work.

Baxter’s “Reformed Pastor” stirs my very soul whenever I read its glowing periods – those fiery thunderbolts which he hurls at the heads of idle shepherds and lazy minister I have read nearly the whole book through to those who are studying for the ministry in connection with this church, and often have I seen the tears start from their eyes while listening to the burning language of that fervent preacher and writer.  Every time I have read a chapter in that book, I have felt that, the next Sabbath, I could preach – I must preach – with greater earnestness after reading the solemn words of that mightiest of ministers, Richard Baxter.  Ah, beloved, we need to have more of that earnestness in the pulpit!  What though my young brethren should study less and be more earnest?  Rather let them study a much as ever they can; but, oh! if the Holy Spirit will but shed his sacred fire upon the dry fuel of their studies, how much more will be accomplished for the kingdom of Christ than is done now!  So, you see, dear friends, that lukewarmness is out of place in the pulpit.

So it is, my brethren and sisters, in the Sunday school, with the tract-distributor, and even with the private Christian, the humble attendant upon the means of grace. Everywhere, lukewarmness in religion is to be loathed and abandoned, for it is a gross and glaring inconsistency.  I would not have you go, with a lukewarm heart, even to distribute tracts.  I would not have you dare to visit the sick unless your heart is filled with love to Christ.  Either do such work well or do not do it at all.  Either put your heart into the work or let someone else do it.  We have had too many men of straw filling up our ranks; we have had too many automatons going forth to fight our battles.  We have counted our legions, and said, “A brave host they will be;” but if our army is sifted, if our ranks are thinned, we shall probably find that fewer true soldiers of the cross will accomplish more if they are not impeded in their onward march by the mixed multitude of those who pretend to join the army of the living God.

I hope that lukewarm professors will find themselves thoroughly out of place amongst us; I do not think they could long be happy here.  There are so many brethren here with a red-hot spirit that they would soon get burned, and they would say “This is not the spot for us.”  If you, lukewarm professors, come amongst us, you will be asked to do fifty things, and you will be teased till you do them, for the good people here will not be content unless you do all that you can, and they will probably want you to do two or three times more than you can.  I am sure that, in all places where God has sent warm-hearted men to preach the gospel, you will find yourselves extremely uncomfortable if you want to be lukewarm.  I certainly could tell you of some chapels where you could take your seat, and where you would be greatly needed for the support of the ministry.  The minister would never wake you; I daresay, if you paid an extra half-crown a quarter, he would let you sleep on as long as you liked.  If you did not join the church, nobody would ever think of asking you whether you were a member or not.  In our fashionable churches, of course, people do not speak to one another; that would be quite beneath their assumed dignity.  No man would dare, in such a place as that, to turn to his neighbor, and say, “Are you a child of God?”  Well, if you mean to be lukewarm, go to one of those places; but do not stay here, lest we should worry you by our importunities.  I question whether anybody would come here, for a few Sundays, without some brother walking up to him, and asking him whether he was a follower of Christ, or not; and the question would be repeated, by one or another, until he came to some decision concerning his soul.

Let me remind you that you have to do with solemn realities. You have to do with death, with eternity, with heaven, with hell, with Christ, with Satan, with souls that must live forever; can you deal with these things in a cold spirit?  If you can deal thus with them successfully, it will be one of the greatest marvels in the world, for these things demand the whole man.  If but to praise God requires that we call up all the powers of our soul, how much more is needed to serve God, and to serve him, not in the hewing of wood and the drawing of water, but in the winning of souls, in preaching his gospel, in propagating his cause, and extending his kingdom.  Here, my brethren, are stern and solemn things for us to deal with, and they must not be touched by any but those who come warm-heartedly to deal with them.

And remember, further, that there have been times, with you, when these things did seem worthy of a warm heart.  Perhaps you recollect when a child out of your Sunday-school class died, and then you thought, “Oh, that I had taught that child more earnestly, and prayed over it with all my heart!”  Possibly, when your own child died, you cried, “O Absalom, my son, my son!” and the thought wounded you to the quick, that you had not taught that child as you might have done, and that you had not wrestled with God in prayer for that child’s soul as you ought to have done.  Have not I also had to think like this when I have buried some of your kinsfolk or acquaintances?  As I have looked down into the grave of some unconverted hearer, the tears have streamed from my eyes; and, afterwards, I have awoke at night with some solemn and terrible dream embodying this black thought, “Have I been faithful to that soul?  Have I dealt with that spirit, now departed, as I would deal with it if I had another opportunity of preaching to it?”  Sometimes, I feel that I can even say, with the apostle Paul, “I take you to record this day that I am pure from the blood of all men.  For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God.”  But there are other seasons of awful questioning when I tremble lest, out of so numerous a flock, the loss of even one should be attributed to the shepherd’s neglect.

Let me remind you, also, that the day is coming when you will think these things worthy of your whole heart, when you and I shall be stretched upon our dying beds; I think we shall have to regret, above everything else, our coldness of heart.  Among the many sins, which we must then confess, perhaps this will lie the heaviest upon our heart and conscience, “I did not live as I ought to have done; I was not as earnest in my Lord’s cause as I should have been.”  Then will our cold sermons, like sheeted ghosts, march before our eyes in dread array.  Then will our neglected days start up and to look right into our hearts and make our very blood curdle in our veins.  Then will our Sunday-school classes appear again before us; and those who taught us to teach others will come and reprove us for having despised their training and not having profited by that holy instruction which we received when we were set apart for God’s cause and were first trained to serve in his great army.  We may reckon these things of small importance now; but when we lie on the borders of eternity, we shall think them worth living for, and worth dying a thousand deaths for.    If you have lived lukewarmly, the things of God will then, even though you be a child of his, darken your dying hour, and weigh down your spirit with a fearful load of sad reflections.

Ay, and there will come a time when the things of God will seem yet more real than even on our dying bed; that will be when we stand at the bar of God.  Am I prepared to stand there with a ministry half discharged?  What shall I do if I have to give account before God for sermons preached without my heart being put into them?  How shall I appear before my Maker if I have ever kept back anything which I thought might have been useful to you, if I have shunned to rebuke any of you when I ought to have done so, if I have not warned you faithfully, and loved you tenderly, even as my own soul, and sought to woo you to the Savior?  How can I give in my account, as a steward of the Lord, if I have only served him half-heartedly?  O God, grant, I beseech thee that, notwithstanding a thousand infirmities, thy servant may ever be free from that great sin of being lukewarm in thy cause!

I am fearful, full often, in addressing the same congregation, Sabbath after Sabbath, and week after week, now by the space of seven years, lest my voice should grow stale to you; and I can truthfully say that, I would rather cease to preach at all than preach to people to whom my voice had become so familiar that it was only like the ringing of an old bell to which they gave no heed.  No, there must be feeling in the congregation as well as earnestness in the preacher; otherwise, let me resign my commission.  I pray God, if I am spared to minister to you, year after year, and you are spared to sit in the pew to hear the Word, that there may be earnestness in you, and earnestness in me that we may never come down to the dead level of some of the churches of which I spoke a little while ago – as you may think, in a spirit of censure; but as God knows, in a spirit of loving faithfulness – old churches that have come to be like pools without outlets, covered over with the sickly duckweed of respectability.  Stagnation in a church is the devil’s delight. I do not think he cares how many Baptist chapels you build nor how many churches you open, if you have only lukewarm preachers and people in them.  He cares not for your armies if your soldiers will but sleep; nor for your guns if they are not loaded.  God give us grace to make our religion all, that we may put our whole heart into it, and live it out, and then be prepared to die for it, if need be, and God so please, that we may live to enjoy the results of it in glory everlasting!

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The Angel’s Christmas Song by C. H. Spurgeon

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men.”—Luke 2:14

It is superstitious to worship angels; it is but proper to love them.  Although it would be a high sin, and an act of misdemeanor against the Sovereign Court of Heaven to pay the slightest adoration to the mightiest angel, yet it would be un­kind and unseemly, if we did not give to holy angels a place in our heart’s warmest love.  In fact, he that contemplates the character of angels, and marks their many deeds of sympathy with men, and kindness towards them, cannot resist the impulse of his nature—the impulse of love towards them.  The one incident in angelic his­tory, to which our text refers, is enough to weld our hearts to them forever.  How free from envy the angels were!  Christ did not come from heaven to save their peers when the fell.  When Satan, the mighty angel, dragged with him a third part of the stars of heaven, Christ did not stoop from his throne to die for them; but he left them to be reserved in chains and darkness until the last great day.  Yet angels did not envy men.  Though they remembered that he took not up angels, yet they did not murmur when he took up the seed of Abraham; and though the blessed Master had never condescended to take the angers form, they did not think it beneath them to express their joy when they found him arrayed in the body of an infant.

They sang the story out, for they could not tell it in heavy prose.  They sang, “Glory to God on high, and on earth peace, good will towards men.”  Methinks, they sang it with gladness in their eyes; with their hearts burning with love, and with breasts as full of joy as if the good news to man had been good news to themselves.  And, verily, it was good news to them, for the heart of sympathy makes good news to others, good news to itself!  Do you not love the angels?  Ye will not bow before them, and there ye are right; but will ye not love them?

The angels sang something which men could understand—something which men ought to understand—something which will make men much better if they will understand it.  The angels were singing about Jesus who was born in the manger.  We must look upon their song as being built upon this foundation.  They sang of Christ and the salvation which he came into this world to work out.  And what they said of this salvation was this: they said, first, that it gave glory to God; secondly, that it gave peace to man; and, thirdly, that it was a token of God’s good will towards the human race.

  1. 1. First, they said that this salvation gave glory to God.

They had been present on many august occasions, and they had joined in many a solemn chorus to the praise of their Almighty Creator.  They were present at the creation: “The morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.”  They had seen many a planet fashioned between the palms of Jehovah, and wheeled by his eternal hands through the infinitude of space.  They had sung solemn songs over many a world which the Great One had created.

I doubt not, too, that their songs had gathered force through ages.  As when first created, their first breath was song, so when they saw God create new worlds, then their song received another note; they rose a little higher in the gamut of adoration.  But this time, when they saw God stoop from his throne, and become a babe, hanging upon a woman’s breast, they lifted their notes higher still; and reaching to the uttermost stretch of angelic music, they gained the highest notes of the divine scale of praise, and they sung, “Glory to God in the highest,” for higher in goodness they felt God could not go.  Thus their highest praise they gave to him in the highest act of his godhead.

“Angels, from the realms of glory, Wing your downward flight to earth,

Ye who sing creation’s story, Now proclaim Messiah’s birth;

Come and worship, Worship Christ, the new-born King.”

Ay, there is no mortal that can ever dream how magnificent was that song.  Then, note, if angels shouted before and when the world was made, their hallelujahs were more full, more strong, more magnificent, if not more hearty, when they saw Jesus Christ born of the Virgin Mary to be man’s redeemer—“Glory to God in the highest.”

What is the instructive lesson to be learned from this first syllable of the angels’ song?  Why this, that salvation is God’s highest glory.  He is glorified in every dewdrop that twinkles to the morning sun.  God is glorified in every bird that warbles on the spray; in every lamb that skips the mead.  From the tiny minnow to the huge Leviathan, do not all creatures that swim the water bless and praise his name?  Do not all created things extol him?  Is there aught beneath the sky, save man, that doth not glorify God?  Do not the stars exalt him, when they write his name upon the azure of heaven in their golden letters?  Do not the lightnings adore him when they flash his brightness in arrows of light piercing the midnight darkness?  Do not thunders extol him when they roll like drums in the march of the God of armies?  Do not all things exalt him, from the least even to the greatest?  But sing, sing, oh uni­verse, till thou hast exhausted thyself, thou canst not afford a song so sweet as the song of Incarnation.  Though creation may be a majestic organ of praise, it cannot reach the compass of the golden canticle—Incarnation!  There is more in that than in creation, more melody in Jesus in the manger, than there is in worlds on worlds rolling their grandeur round the throne of the Most High.

  1. 2. When they had sung this, they sang what they had never song before.

“Glory to God in the highest,” was an old, old song; they had sung that from before the foundations of the world.  But, now, they sang as it were a new song before the throne of God: for they added this stanza—” on, earth, peace.” They did not sing that in the garden.  There was peace there, but it seemed a thing of course, and scarce worth singing of.  There was more than peace there; for there was glory to God there.  But, now, man had fallen, and since the day when cherubim with fiery swords drove out the man, there had been no peace on earth, save in the breast of some believers, who had obtained peace from the living fountain of this incarnation of Christ.

Do you not feel my brethren, that the gospel of God is peace to man?  Where else can peace be found, but in the message of Jesus?  Go legalist, work for peace with toil and pain, and thou shalt never find it.  Go, thou, that trustest in the law: go thou, to Sinai; look to the flames that Moses saw, and shrink, and tremble, and despair; for peace is nowhere to be found, but in him, of whom it is said, “This man shall be peace.”  And what a peace it is, beloved!  It is peace like a river, and righteousness like the waves of the sea.  It is the peace of God that passeth all understanding, which keeps our hearts and minds through Jesus Christ our Lord.  This sacred peace between the pardoned soul and God the pardoner; this marvelous at-one-ment between the sinner and his judge, this was it that the angels sung when they said, “Peace On earth.”

  1. 3. And, then, they wisely ended their song with a third note.  They said, “Good will to man.”

Philosophers have said that God has a good will toward man; but I never knew any man who derived much comfort from their philosophical assertion.  Wise men have thought from what we have seen in creation that God had much good will toward man, or else his works would never have been so constructed for their comfort; but I never heard of any man who could risk his soul’s peace upon such a faint hope as that.  But I have not only heard of thousands, but I know them, who are quite sure that God has a good will towards men; and if you ask their reason, they will give a full and perfect answer.  They say, he has good will toward man for he gave his Son.  No greater proof of kindness between the Creator and his subjects can possibly be afforded than when the Creator gives his only begotten and well beloved Son to die.

So good a will moreover that he has even condescended to say, “Come, now, let us reason together; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool; though they be red like crimson, they shall be whiter than snow.”  And if you say, “Lord, how shall I know that thou hast this good will towards me,” he points to yonder manger, and says, “Sinner, if I had not a good will towards thee, would I have parted with my Son?  If I had not good will towards the human race, would I have given up my Son to become one of that race that he might by so doing redeem them from death?  He has good will to men; he is willing to pardon; he passes by iniquity, transgression, and sin.

And when the Lord Jesus has become your peace, remember, there is another thing, good will towards men.  Do not try to keep Christmas without keeping good will towards men.  If you are men of wealth, you have poor in your neighborhood.  Find something wherewith to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry, and make glad the mourner.  Remember, it is good will towards men.  Try, if you can, to show them goodwill at this special season; and if you will do that, the poor will say with me, that indeed they wish there were six Christmases in the year.

You are going home to your father and mother, young men; many of you are going from your shops to your homes.  You remember what I preached on last Christmas time.  Go home to thy friends, and tell them what the Lord hath done for thy soul, and that will make a blessed round of stories at the Christmas fire.  If you will each of you tell your parents how the Lord met with you in the house of prayer; how, when you left home, you were a gay, wild blade, but have now come back to love your mother’s God, and read your father’s Bible.  Oh, what a happy Christmas that will make!

What more shall I say?  May God give you peace with yourselves; may he give you good will towards all your friends, your enemies, and your neighbors; and may he give you grace to give gory to God in the highest.  I will say no more, except at the close of this sermon to wish every one of you, when the day shall come, the happiest Christmas you ever had in your lives.

This is an edited excerpt from a sermon preached by Spurgeon on December 20, 1857.

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