The Spurgeon Series 1859 & 1860. Charles H. Spurgeon

The world always gives with a sparing motive. The most of us are compelled to economy, if we give anything away to a poor man we generally hope that he will not come again. If we give him half a crown it is very often as we say to get rid of him. If we bestow a little charity it is in the hope that we shall not see his face just by and by, for really we do not like the same men continually begging at our door when the world is so full of beggars. Did you ever hear of a man who gave a beggar something to encourage him to keep on begging from him? I must confess I never did such a thing, and am not likely to begin. But that is just what Christ does. When he gives us a little grace, his motive is to make us ask for more; and when he gives us more grace it is given with the very motive, to make us come and ask again. He gives us silver blessings to induce us to ask for golden mercies; and when we have golden favours, those same mercies are given on purpose to lead us to pray more earnestly, and open our mouth wider so that we may receive more. What a strange giver Christ is! what a strange friend, that he gives on purpose to make us beg for more! The more you ask from Christ, the more you can ask; the more you have received, the more you will want; the more you know him, the more you will desire to know him; the more grace you receive, the more grace you will pant after; and when you are full of grace, you will never be content until you get full of glory. Christ’s way of giving is, “Of his fulness we have received, and grace for grace” — grace to make us pant for more grace; grace to make us long after something higher, something fuller and richer still. “Not as the world gives do I give to you.”

      13. Again; when the world gives anything it is almost always with a selfish motive. The Christian man gives, not hoping to receive again; but the world lends so that it may borrow; it gives so that it may receive. There are many men whose whole lives are devoted a looking after themselves. They would not like to be told so; but even their gifts to a hospital, or to a charity, are merely given because their name should be in the list. We know that too many people would not think of relieving private need unless they thought there was a merit in it, and so thought it would stand good for them at last. They would infinitely prefer to do their good in the lumps. I know, at this day, a man that I believe would give twenty pounds, fifty pounds, or a hundred pounds to a charity, but who would let his own relatives starve rather than give them anything, because it would never be known, — no one would talk about it. The world’s motive for bestowing a blessing is in order that some rich fruit may flow from it. If the world rewards a warrior, its ostensible reason is that other soldiers may fight bravely. If it rewards some great artist, it is to encourage the profession, that is, to help themselves, by getting others to amuse them, as well as this man has done. There is always an ulterior motive in the world’s generosity. Not so in Christ’s; when he gives us mercies, he has nothing whatever to get from us. It is our delight to live for him; but our living for him cannot increase his glory — he is God over all, blessed for ever. He gives us more than he can ever receive. And though we with grateful hearts desire to live for him, that very gratitude is his gift first. The well of love is filled out of the spring of God, otherwise it would have been the grave of mercies, and not a fountain of praise.

      14. Now, what more shall I say? I seem to have brought out the most prominent point of the worlds giving, but let me add one more. “Not as the world gives do I give to you.” All that the world gives, it only bestows for a season, it must returned again. You have riches, man, as the reward of your toils. How shall you be the better for them in a few short months? Your broad acres, your leagues of land shall dwindle into a short six feet of clay. Your mansion, what shall it shrivel into, but into a small coffin, over which shall be scratched a little earth to hide your putrid dust, and spare the world a nuisance? The world will take it all back from you. Naked you came into it, and it will take care you shall take nothing out of it, for naked shall you go out of it again. Oh, man, you have accumulated knowledge until you have become a walking encyclopedia, but what shall you take with you? What difference shall there is between your hollow skull and that of the lowliest peasant, when some wanton sexton, in some future year, shall take it up, or split it with his spade? How shall you be the better for all those big thoughts that have stretched your skull, and all those marvellous conceptions that have made it ache so much, that you could scarcely carry it upon your shoulders? You will go back again to your fellow earth, and the worm shall eat you, and the philosopher shall taste no sweeter to its tooth than did the peasant. And, then, whether you are a prince or king, or whether you are a poor, ignorant man, the worms shall make no distinction. You shall still rot — still be consumed; nauseous gases and a handful of dust shall be your whole residuum. What then can the world give? If it tried it could not give you anything that would last; it cannot give you anything better than air. It can give you nothing that can pass into eternity with you, even though it follows you with the trumpet of fame. That trumpet cannot be heard halfway across the Jordan. If all the men in the world clapped their hands in your praise, not one angel, even on the very borders of the celestial world would observe the tumult of applause. The world can give you nothing that you can carry with you. You are at the best a packhorse, that shall carry its burden until it ends its journey, and then it must lie down and die. You only carry a burden on your back, and truly, death shall unload you before you are allowed to enter another world. How different is Christ in his gifts! What he gives he gives for ever. When he bestows mercies they are lasting things; no shadows does he give, but real substance — no fancies, but eternal realities does he bestow. Oh, men of this world, when your gold is melted — when your diamonds have dissolved into gas — when your estates have gone — when your hopes are lost, and when your goods are destroyed, then the people of God shall begin to know their riches; then they shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.

      Not as the world gives do I give to you.

      15. III. Now this brings me to one PRACTICAL REFLECTION, or rather EXHORTATION TO GOD’S PEOPLE. If this is true, my hearer, I beseech you do not serve the world; serve no one except Christ, for he is the best Master; serve him with all your might, because he so richly has given and so richly will give. I would not serve the world for the best empire in it. A king once said he wished all his subjects could be kings for a day, for “they would soon discover,” he said, “that the art of governing is not so easy as they think, and that a crown is not so soft a thing to wear as they imagine.” No, the world may abuse us if it likes; if it abuse us we are not very sad about it, because the world is not our master, and as long as our own Master is satisfied we do not care about a stranger. If anyone should walk into your garden, and say to your gardener, “I do not like the arrangement of these beds; I do not like those flowers; you are evidently a careless man”; he would say, “Well, my master has been around this morning; he did not say much, but I saw a smile of satisfaction on his face, therefore, what is that to you? it is no business of yours. I am not your servant; I do not serve you.” Now, the world is a bad paymaster to those who obey and serve it. Let every Christian make up his mind that he will have nothing to do with serving the world. If the world scorns and frowns, let him say, “It is no business of yours; you are not my master; I do not serve you. If it amuses you to abuse me go on; it will not harm me.” There is even in the mind of Christians at times too much of a tendency to timeserving. We are all so apt to think that we really must bow to public opinion, to this, that, and the other. Oh! you will never be happy until the Holy Spirit has brought you to this, — that you will fear God, and that you will fear no one else — that you will serve God with an undivided heart. I go further: I would not even serve the church if I must have it for a master. I can serve God, I can serve Christ; for Christ is a blessed Master; but I would not advise any of you to make the church your master. Wherever the church is we are all bound to serve the brethren, to serve the church of Christ as we are bound to assist in a common cause, but do not think that even the dictum of the church is to be your judge. Do not imagine that even its praise is that which you are to seek. You are to seek the praise of Christ. His church may do wrong, his ministers may make mistakes, but Christ himself can never be in error. Serve Christ — this is the practical exhortation from the whole subject. My dear friends, you who love Christ, and have been chosen by him from before the foundation of the world, who have been bought with his blood, have been washed, and pardoned, and forgiven, if Christ gives to you, not as the world gives then I beseech you serve Christ better than worldlings serve the world. Oh, it is astonishing what men have done to serve the world. They have rushed to the cannon’s mouth,