The Spurgeon Series 1859 & 1860. Charles H. Spurgeon

Even when the “Goodbye” is given, which translated means, “God be with you” — if that could only be true, and if God could be with us, in answer to that prayer, so little understood, how rich might we be! But alas! the way of the world is, “Be warmed and be filled”; but it has not what could warm, nor what could fill. It is a world of words; high sounding, empty, all deceiving words. Now, not so, does Christ give. If he says “Peace be with you,” his benediction is most true and full of sweet sincerity. He left his own peace in heaven, that he might give the peace which he enjoyed with his Father, to us in this world of sorrow, for thus he puts it, “My peace I give to you.” Christ, when he blesses, blesses not in word only, but in deed. The lips of truth cannot promise more than the hands of love will surely give. He does give in compliment.

      4. Furthermore, even when the world’s wishes of peace are sincere, what are they except mere wishes. If I am met by my most sincere friend, and he wishes to give a benediction, he cannot bestow one. It is for God only to bless his people with peace. We may bless with the wish but not with the deed. It may be our desire that every mercy should cluster around the head of our friend — that his pillow should be smooth, that his path should be easy, that his heart should be happy, that his end may be peace; but we must leave it with God to fulfil our prayers. If our power were equal to our will, how richly would we bless our friends with the priceless jewel of peace. But Christ says, “Not as the world gives do I give to you.” His wishes for us shall be accomplished, and he himself shall work them out. Does he wish for us that we may be sanctified? Lo! he will sanctify us, and present us without spot, or wrinkle, or any such things. Is it his will that we should be with him where he is? It shall be done, and we shall behold his glory and we shall share in it. There was never a wish in Christ’s heart with regard to his people that merely ended in a wish. The wish is only the bowstring; the blessing is the arrow shot from it. Christ does not have an empty bow, but his quiver is filled with arrows, and every time he wishes, he places a blessing on the string and sends it to us. Oh rest assured that not as the world gives, with the empty wish, the deceitful brook, the empty well does Christ give to us, but he gives a fulness and a reality in all that he bestows.

      5. Yet, furthermore, I may remark that, with regard to peace, the world gives only peace in prospect. There is not a man alive who is not hoping for better times; even boys believe that better times are coming — times of rest and peace. The man who is just beginning in business expects that he shall take his rest and be much at ease, when he shall have succeeded in establishing a connection; or if he finds that, as business increases, cares multiply, he hopes that, in a little while, the whole matter will become more steady, and that by the employment of honest people, much of the care may be taken from him. And that time comes; but he finds that, even then, there are fresh cares which have arisen as the others have died out. He then looks forward to the time when, in his ripe old age, he shall retire to some country retreat, and there spend the rest of his days in peace. For the most part that is only a dream, and grey age in its retirement has its troubles still; still, when men grow old, trouble is as young as ever, and man finds just as much to prick and wound in the thorns of earth as when for the first time he trod its soil. We are all intending and beginning to be peaceful; we are all going to be happy by and by. We have all made up our minds that soon we will have finished with desiring more, and then we will take our rest. This is the miraculous mistake of man, — that he is always beginning to live; but he never does live; he always intends to be satisfied, but he never is; he always means to sit down in contentment, but that period never arrives. He has always something to vex him, but still hopes the day shall come when he shall be vexed no more. Now, not as the world gives does Christ give to us. The world puts before us a mirage in the desert. We see before us what we imagine to be springs of water, and spreading palm trees; and we rush forward, but it is not there. It is only a few hundred yards ahead, and on we go, full wearily and footsore, and now it is a little further on; still we hurry on, but as we progress the vision stretches before us, but we never reach it. Christ does not bless like this. He gives, and gives now; he gives in present foretaste, and will give assuredly in the world which is to come. Yes, even now, the true Christian can say he has peace in Christ. Oh! there are some of us who know what it is to be so content and happy when our thoughts are exercised upon our standing in Christ, that we could say we have not a wish for anything more; we could sit still for ever, and rest in him. Truly, we can testify that those who have believed do enter into rest. We have seen the billows roar, we have noticed the storm gathering, we have seen the black clouds full of tempest, gathering overhead; and we have been enabled to defy all these things, and to find rest in Christ, notwithstanding. No, and when the clouds have emptied out their horrors, when the lightnings have scathed the brow of darkness, and the thunder has rolled, tremendous, through the sky, we have known what it is, even then, to rest in the bosom of Christ, as a babe upon the breast of its mother. We have had a quiet and a perfect rest while the world has been in arms abroad. Christ gives a real peace, not something that we have to hunt after for tomorrow, but a thing that we have now. And the true believer can say that, when he is enabled to see himself in Christ, he has all he wants; he can rest on beds of spices, feed among the lilies of satisfaction, and neither ask nor wish for anything beyond. “Peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.”

      6. Yet again, I remark once more, that all the peace which the world ever did give to any man, was a delusion. I know some who possess the world’s peace; I wish that that peace were broken. Some of you are content with yourselves; you are good enough you say, or, if not good enough, it is easy to amend. You fold your arms, and you say, “Why make myself miserable about religion? Why trouble myself about the interests of another world?” Ah man! I wish that you could be made wretched — that you could be made miserable, for take it from me your sleep is the sleep of death. It is one of the devil’s great devices for destroying souls, to satisfy men — to give them the drug of indifference, the laudanum of procrastination, and so to stultify and stupefy them, that they go on from day to day, careless and reckless, until in hell they lift up their eyes. Why, if you are concerned about your souls there is hope for you; the way to peace lies through distress. You must first be agitated before you can be pacified. But, if you now say, “peace, peace,” I tell you there is no peace; and if you now say, “be quiet, be still, hush!” I warn you, that all the quiet of which you boast is the hush before the hurricane, when the world seems as if it stood still in terror, when the birds droop their wings upon the trees, and cease their songs, when the very lion hides himself in the thicket, and when he roars no more, but is still, waiting for the rushing wings of tempest. Here is a picture of your vaunted peace! Your calm is only a prelude of an eternal storm. The sunshine of today is only the index of the awful shower of tomorrow, a shower of red rain of vengeance, and of hail mingled with fire. Oh, the peace the world gives is delusive. Those who rest there, rest upon a bed of death; but the peace which Christ gives is no delusion. When the Christian can sit down and say “I have nothing to fear; I have nothing to trouble me — nothing to tremble about, neither for this world, nor for the next,” he is not saying one word more than he has good ground for saying; no he is not going so far as he might go. He may say

      Now let earth’s old pillars shake,

      And all the wheels of nature break,

      My steadfast soul shall fear no more,

      Than solid rocks when billows roar.

      That peace has no pretence in it. It is not bombast; it is a reality, Profound though it is, it is not one whit more profound than it is warranted to be. The believer rests upon a solid rock, and all the waves of trouble can never make that rock give way, or shake the foundation of his peace. “Not as the world gives do I give to you.”

      7. II. Now having touched upon the first point, I come to the second IN THE MATTER OF GIVING. Take a broad view of it. In whatever the world gives, Christ does not give after the same fashion.

      8. In the first place, the world gives scantily. Even the world’s best friends have had cause to complain of its shabby treatment. In reading the biographies of mighty men whom the world honours, you will soon be convicted that the world is a most ungrateful friend. If you should devote your whole life to serve the world, and make it happy, do not think the world would ever return