The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon

of every offence; in fact everything that is evil and vile lies couched in that one word — unbelief.

      8. And let me say here, that unbelief in the Christian is of the very same nature as unbelief in the sinner. It is not the same in its final issue, for it will be pardoned in the Christian; yes it is pardoned: it was laid upon the scape goat’s head of old: it was blotted out and atoned for; but it is of the same sinful nature. In fact, if there can be one sin more heinous than the unbelief of a sinner, it is the unbelief of a saint. For a saint to doubt God’s word — for a saint to distrust God after innumerable instances of his love, after ten thousand proofs of his mercy, exceeds everything. In a saint, moreover, unbelief is the root of other sins. When I am perfect in faith I shall be perfect in everything else; I should always fulfil the precept if I always believe the promise. But it is because my faith is weak, that I sin. Put me in trouble, and if I can fold my arms and say, “Jehovahjireh, the Lord will provide,” you will not find me using wrong means to escape from it. But let me be in temporal distress and difficulty, if I distrust God, what then? Perhaps I shall steal, or do a dishonest act to get out of the hands of my creditors; or if kept from such a transgression, I may plunge into excess to drown my anxieties. Once take away faith, the reins are broken; and who can ride an unbroken steed without rein or bridle? Like the chariot of the sun, with Phaeton for its driver, such should we be without faith. Unbelief is the mother of vice; it is the parent of sin; and, therefore, I say it is a pestilent evil — a master sin.

      9. 2. But secondly; unbelief not only produces, but fosters sin. How is it that men can keep their sin under the thunders of the Sinai preacher? How is it that, when Boanerges stands in the pulpit, and, by the grace of God, cries aloud, “Cursed is every man that does not keep all the commands of the law,” — how is it that when the sinner hears the tremendous threatenings of God’s justice, still he is hardened, and walks on in his evil ways? I will tell you; it is because unbelief of that threatening prevents it from having any effect upon him. When our sappers and miners go to work around Sebastopol, they could not work in front of the walls, if they did not have something to protect them from the shots; so they raise earthworks, behind which they can do what they please. So with the ungodly man. The devil gives him unbelief; he thus puts up an earthwork, and finds refuge behind it. Ah! sinners, when once the Holy Spirit knocks down your unbelief — when once he brings home the truth in demonstration and in power, how the law will work upon your soul. If man only believed that the law is holy, that the commandments are holy, just, and good, how he would be shaken over hell’s mouth; there would be no sitting and sleeping in God’s house; no careless hearers; no going away and immediately forgetting what manner of men you are. Oh! once get rid of unbelief, how would every cannon ball from the batteries of the law fall upon the sinner, and the slain of the Lord would be many. Again, how is it that men can hear the wooings of the cross of Calvary, and yet not come to Christ? How is it that when we preach about the sufferings of Jesus, and close up by saying, “yet there is room,” — how is it that when we dwell upon his cross and passion, men’s hearts are not broken? It is said,

      Law and terrors do but harden,

      All the while they work alone:

      But a sense of blood bought pardon

      Will dissolve a heart of stone.

      I think the story of Calvary is enough to break a rock. Rocks split when they saw Jesus die. I think the tragedy of Golgotha is enough to make a flint gush with tears, and to make the most hardened wretch weep his eyes out in drops of penitential love; but yet we tell it to you, and repeat it often, but who weeps over it? Who cares about it? Sirs, you sit as unconcerned as if it did not apply to you. Oh! behold and see all you that pass by. Is it nothing to you that Jesus would die? You seem to say “It is nothing.” What is the reason? Because there is unbelief between you and the cross. If there were not that thick veil between you and the Saviour’s eyes, his looks of love would melt you. But unbelief is the sin which keeps the power of the gospel from working in the sinner: and it is not until the Holy Spirit strikes that unbelief out — it is not until the Holy Spirit rends away that infidelity and smashes it completely down, that we can find the sinner coming to put his trust in Jesus.

      10. 3. But there is a third point. Unbelief disables a man for the performance of any good work; “Whatever is not of faith is sin,” is a great truth in more senses than one. “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” You shall never hear me say a word against morality; you shall never hear me say that honesty is not a good thing, or that sobriety is not a good thing; on the contrary, I would say they are commendable things; but I will tell you what I will say afterwards — I will tell you that they are just like the shells of Cowries of Hindustan; they may pass as currency among the Indians, but they will not do in England; these virtues may be current here below, but not above. If you have not something better than your own goodness, you will never get to heaven. Some of the Indian tribes use little strips of cloth instead of money, and I would not find fault with them if I lived there; but when I come to England, strips of cloth will not suffice. So honesty, sobriety, and such things, may be very good among men — and the more you have of them the better. I exhort you, whatever things are lovely and pure, and of good report, have them — but they will not do up there. All these things put together, without faith, do not please God. Virtues without faith are whitewashed sins. Obedience without faith, if it is possible, is a gilded disobedience. Not to believe, nullifies everything. It is the fly in the ointment; it is the poison in the pot. Without faith, with all the virtues of purity, with all the benevolence of philanthropy, with all the kindness of disinterested sympathy, with all the talents of genius, with all the bravery of patriotism, and with all the decision of principle — “without faith it is impossible to please God.” Do you not see then, how bad unbelief is, because it prevents men from performing good works. Yes, even in Christians themselves, unbelief disables them. Let me just tell you a tale — a story of Christ’s life. A certain man had an afflicted son, possessed with an evil spirit. Jesus was up in Mount Tabor, transfigured; so the father brought his son to the disciples. What did the disciples do? They said, “Oh, we will cast him out.” They put their hands upon him, and they tried to do it; but they whispered among themselves and said, “We are afraid we shall not be able.” By and by the diseased man began to froth at the mouth; he foamed and scratched the earth, clasping it in his convulsive fits. The demoniac spirit within him was alive. The devil was still there. In vain they repeated their exorcism, the evil spirit remained like a lion in his den, nor could their efforts dislodge him. “Go!” said they; but he do not go. “Away to the pit!” they cried; but he remained immoveable. The lips of unbelief cannot frighten the Evil One, who might well have said, “Faith I know, Jesus I know, but who are you? you have no faith.” If they had had faith, as a grain of mustard seed, they might have cast the devil out; but their faith was gone, and therefore they could do nothing. Look at poor Peter’s case, too. While he had faith, Peter walked on the waves of the sea. That was a splendid walk; I almost envy him treading upon the billows. Why, if Peter’s faith had continued, he might have walked across the Atlantic to America. But presently there came a billow behind him, and he said, “That will sweep me away”; and then another, and he cried out, “That will overwhelm me”; and he thought — how could I be so presumptuous as to be walking on the top of these waves? Down goes Peter. Faith was Peter’s lifebuoy; faith was Peter’s charm — it kept him up; but unbelief sent him down. Do you know that you and I, all our lifetime, will have to walk on the water? A Christian’s life is always walking on water — mine is — and every wave would swallow and devour him, but faith makes him stand. The moment you cease to believe, that moment distress comes in, and down you go. Oh! why do you doubt, then?

      11. Faith fosters every virtue; unbelief murders every one. Thousands of prayers have been strangled in their infancy by unbelief. Unbelief has been guilty of infanticide; it has murdered many an infant petition; many a song of praise that would have swelled the chorus of the skies, has been stifled by an unbelieving murmur; many a noble enterprise conceited in the heart has been blighted before it could come forth, by unbelief. Many a man would have been a missionary; would have stood and preached his Master’s gospel boldly; but he had unbelief. Once make a giant unbelieving, and he becomes a dwarf. Faith is the Samsonian lock of the Christian; cut it off, and you may put