The Spurgeon Series 1857 & 1858. Charles H. Spurgeon

remained within, although the wall was tumbling to the ground. Rahab’s house stood alone upon the wall, a solitary fragment amidst a universal wreck, and she and her household were all saved. Now would you have thought that such a rich plant would grow in such poor soil — that strong faith could grow in such a sinful heart as that of Rahab? Ah! but here it is that God exercises his great husbandry. “My Father is the husbandman,” said Christ. Any husbandman can get a good crop out of good soil; but God is the husbandman who can grow cedars on rocks, who cannot only put the hyssop upon the wall, but put the oak there too, and make the greatest faith spring up in the most unlikely place. All glory to his grace! the greatest sinner may become great in faith. Be of good cheer, then, sinner! If Christ should make you repent, you have no need to think that you shall be the least in the family. Oh! no, your name may yet be written among the mightiest of the mighty, and you may stand as a memorable and triumphant instance of the power of faith.

      10. IV. This woman’s faith was A SELF-DENYING FAITH. She dared to risk her life for the sake of the spies. She knew that if they were found in her house she would be put to death, but though she was so weak as to do a sinful deed to preserve them, yet she was so strong that she would run the risk of being put to death to save these two men. It is something to be able to deny yourselves. An American once said, “I have a good religion; its the right sort of religion; I do not know that it costs me a cent a year; and yet I believe I am as truly a religious man as anyone.” “Ah!” one said who heard it, “the Lord have mercy on your miserable stingy soul; for if you had been saved you would not have been content with a cent a year” — a half-penny per annum! I hazard this assertion, that there is nothing in the faith of that man who does not exercise self-denial. If we never give anything to Christ’s cause, work for Christ, deny ourselves for Christ, the root of the matter is not in us. I might call some of you hypocrites: you sing —

      And if I might make some reserve,

      And duty did not call,

      I love my God with zeal so great,

      That I could give him all.

      Yes, but you would not though; you know better than that, for you do not, as it is, give all, no, nor yet half, nor yet the thousandth part. I suppose you think you are poor yourselves, though you have more than a thousand pounds income per year, and so you keep it yourself, under the notion that “He who gives to the poor lends to the Lord.” I do not know how else it is you make your religion square with itself, and be at all consistent. This woman said, “If I must die for these men, I will; I am prepared, bad name as I have, to have a worse name still; as a traitor to my country I am prepared to be handed down to infamy, if it is necessary, for having betrayed my country in taking in these spies, for I know it is God’s will it should be done, and I will do it at every hazard.” Oh men and brethren, do not trust your faith, unless it has self-denial with it. Faith and self-denial, like the Siamese twins, are born together, and must live together, and the food that nourishes one must nourish both. But this woman, poor sinner as she was, would deny herself. She brought her life, even as that other woman who was a sinner brought the alabaster box of precious ointment, and broke it on the head of Christ.

      11. V. Not to detain you too long, another point very briefly. This woman’s faith was a SYMPATHISING FAITH. She did not believe for herself only; she desired mercy for her family. She said, “I want to be saved, but that very desire makes me want to have my father saved, and my mother saved, and my brother saved, and my sister saved.” I know a man who walks seven miles every Sunday to hear the gospel preached at a certain place — a place where they preach the gospel. You know that very particular, superfine sort — the gospel, a gospel, the spirit of which consists in bad temper, carnal security, arrogance, and a seared conscience; but one day this man was met by a friend, who said to him, “Where is your wife?” “Wife?” he said to him. “What! does she not come with you?” “Oh, no,” said the man; “she never goes anywhere.” “Well, but,” he said, “do you not try to get her to go, and the children?” “No: the fact of it is, I think, if I look after myself, that is quite enough.” “Well,” said the other, “and you believe you are God’s elect, do you?” “Yes.” “Well then,” said the other “I do not think you are, because you are worse than a heathen man and a tax collector, for you do not care about your own household; therefore I do not think you give much evidence of being God’s elect, for they love their fellow creatures.” So sure as your faith is real, it will want to bring others in. You will say, “You want to make proselytes.” Yes; and you will reply, that Christ said to the Pharisees, “You encompass sea and land to make one proselyte.” Yes, and Christ did not find fault with them for doing so; what he found fault with them for, was this — “When you have found him you make him tenfold more the child of hell than yourselves.”

      12. The spirit of proselyting is the spirit of Christianity, and we ought to be desirous of possessing it. If any man will say, “I believe such-and-such a thing is true, but I do not wish any one else to believe it,” I will tell you it is a lie; he does not believe it, for it is impossible, heartily and truly, to believe a thing, without desiring to make others believe the same. And I am sure of this, moreover, it is impossible to know the value of salvation without desiring to see others brought in. Said that renowned preacher, Whitfield, “As soon as I was converted I wanted to be the means of the conversion of all that I had ever known. There were a number of young men that I had played cards with, that I had sinned with, and transgressed with; the first thing I did was, I went to their houses to see what I could do for their salvation, nor could I rest until I had the pleasure of seeing many of them brought to the Saviour.” This is a firstfruit of the Spirit. It is a kind of instinct in a young Christian. He must have other people feel what he feels. One young man says, in writing to me this week, “I have been praying for my fellow clerk in the office; I have desired that he might be brought to the Saviour, but at present there is no answer to my prayers.” Do not give a penny for that man’s piety which will not spread itself. Unless we desire others to taste the benefits we have enjoyed, we are either inhuman monsters or outrageous hypocrites; I think the last is most likely. But this woman was so strong in faith that all her family were saved from destruction. Young woman! you have a father, and he hates the Saviour. Oh! pray for him. Mother! you have a son: he scoffs at Christ. Cry out to God for him. Indeed, my friends — young people like myself — we little know what we owe to the prayers of our parents. I feel that I shall never be able sufficiently to bless God for a praying mother. I thought it was a great nuisance to be called in at such a time to pray, and more especially to be made to cry, as my mother used to make me cry. I would have laughed at the idea of anyone else talking to me about these things; but when she prayed, and said, “Lord, save my son Charles,” and then was overcome, and could not get any further for crying, you could not help crying too; you could not help feeling; it was of no use trying to stand against it. Ah! and there you are, young man! Your mother is dying, and one thing which makes her deathbed bitter is, that you scoff God and hate Christ. Oh! it is the last stage of impiety, when a man can think lightly of a mother’s feelings. I would hope there are none such here, but that those of you who have been so blessed, as to have been begotten and brought forth by pious men and women, may take this into consideration — that to perish with a mother’s prayers is to perish fearfully; for if a mother’s prayers do not bring us to Christ, they are like drops of oil dropped into the flames of hell that will make them burn more fiercely upon the soul for ever and ever. Take heed of rushing to perdition over your mother’s prayers!

      13. There is an old woman weeping — do you know why? I believe she has sons too, and she loves them. I met with a little incident in company, the other day, after preaching. There was a little boy at the corner of the table, and his father asked him, “Why does your father love you, John?” Said the dear little lad, very prettily, “Because I am a good boy.” “Yes,” said the father, “he would not love you if you were not a good boy.” I turned to the good father and remarked that I was not quite sure about the truth of the last remark, for I believe he would love him if he were ever so bad. “Well,” he said, “I think I should.” And said a minister at the table, “I had an instance of that yesterday. I stepped into the house of a woman who had a son deported for life, and