The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon

therefore, you think God must cast you out. You think if you were like Paul or Peter you might be safe. Ah! beloved, do not talk like that; Jesus Christ says he will not quench the useless flax, nor break the worthless bruised reed; he has something for the useless and for the worthless ones. But note, I do not say this to excuse laziness — to excuse those that can do, but do not; that is a very different thing. There is a whip for the ass, a scourge for idle men, and they must have it sometimes. I am speaking now of those who cannot do it; not of Issachar, who is like a strong ass, crouching down between two burdens, and too lazy to get up with them. I say nothing for the sluggard, who will not plough by reason of the cold, but of the men and women who really feel that they can be of little service — who cannot do more; and to such, the words of the text are applicable.

      5. Now we will make another remark. The two things here mentioned are offensive things. A bruised reed is offensive, for I believe there is an illusion here to the pipes of Pan, which you all know are reeds put together, along which a man moves his mouth, thus causing some kind of music. This is the organ, I believe which Jubal invented, and which David mentions, for it is certain that the organ we use was not then in use. The bruised reed, then, would of course spoil the melody of all the pipes; one unsound tube would so let the air out, as to produce a discordant sound, or no sound at all, so that one’s impulse would be to take the pipe out and put in a fresh one. And, as for smoking flax, the wick of a candle or anything of that kind, I need not inform you that the smoke is offensive. To me no odour in all the world is so abominably offensive as smoking flax. But some say, “How can you speak in so low a style?” I have not gone lower than I could go myself, nor lower than you can go with me; for I am sure you are, if God the Holy Spirit has really humbled you, just as offensive to your own souls, and just as offensive to God as a bruised reed would be among the pipes, or as smoking flax to the eyes and nose. I often think of dear old John Bunyan, when he said he wished God had made him a toad, or a frog, or a snake or anything rather than a man, for he felt he was so offensive. Oh! I can conceive a nest of vipers, and I think that they are obnoxious; I can imagine a pool of all kinds of loathsome creatures, breeding corruption, but there is nothing half so worthy of abhorrence as the human heart. God spares from all eyes except his own that awful sight — a human heart; and could you and I only once see our heart, we should be driven mad, so horrible would be the sight. Do you feel like that? Do you feel that you must be offensive in God’s sight — that you have so rebelled against him, so turned away from his commandments, that surely you must be obnoxious to him? If so, my text is yours.

      6. Now, I can imagine some woman here this morning who has departed from the paths of virtue; and, while she is standing in the throng up there, or sitting down she feels as if she had no right to tread these hallowed courts, and stand among God’s people. She thinks that God might almost make the chapel break down upon her to destroy her, she is so great a sinner. Never mind, broken reed and smoking flax! Though you are the scorn of man, and loathsome to yourself, yet Jesus says to you, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you.” There is some man here who has something in his heart that I do not know of — who may have committed crimes in secret, that we will not mention in public; his sins stick like a leech to him, and rob him of all comfort. Here you are young man, shaking and trembling, lest your crime should be divulged before high heaven; you are broken down, bruised like a reed, smoking like flax. Ah! I have a word for you too. Comfort! comfort! comfort! Do not despair; for Jesus says he will not quench the smoking flax, he will not break the bruised reed.

      7. And yet, my dear friends, there is one thought before I leave this point. Both of these articles, however worthless they may be, may yet be of some service. When God puts his hand to a man, if he were worthless and useless before, he can make him very valuable. You know the price of an article does not depend so much upon the value of the raw material as upon workmanship put into it. Here is very bad raw material to begin with — bruised reeds and smoking flax, but by Divine workmanship both these things become of wondrous value. You tell me the bruised reed is good for nothing; I tell you that Christ will take that bruised reed and mend it, and fit it into the pipes of heaven. Then when the grand orchestra shall send forth its music, when the organs of the skies shall peal forth their deep toned sounds, we shall ask, “What was that sweet note heard there, mingling with the rest?” And some one shall say, “It was a bruised reed.” Ah! Mary Magdalene’s voice in heaven, I imagine, sounds more sweet and liquid than any other; and the voice of that poor thief, who said “Lord, remember me,” if it is a deep bass voice, is more mellow and more sweet than the voice of any other, because he loved much, for he had much forgiven him. This reed may yet be of use. Do not say you are good for nothing; you shall sing up in heaven yet. Do not say your are worthless; at last you shall stand before the throne among the blood washed company, and shall sing God’s praise. Indeed! and the smoking flax too, what good can that be? I will soon tell you. There is a spark in that flax somewhere; it is nearly out, but still a spark remains. Behold the prairie on fire! Do you see the flames come rolling on? Do you see stream after stream of hot fire deluging the plain until all the continent is burnt and scorched — until heaven is reddened with the flame. Old night’s black face is scarred with the burning, and the stars appear frightened at the conflagration. How was that mass ignited? By a piece of smoking flax dropped by some traveller, fanned by the soft wind, until the whole prairie caught the flame. So one poor man, one ignorant man, one weak man, even one backsliding man, may be the means of the conversion of a whole nation. Who knows that you who are nothing now, may be of more use than those of us who appear to stand better before God, because we have more gifts and talents? God can make a spark set a world on fire — he can light up a whole nation with the spark of one poor praying soul. You may be useful yet; therefore be of good cheer. Moss grows upon gravestones; the ivy clings to the rotting pile; the mistletoe grows on the dead branch; and even so shall grace, and piety, and virtue, and holiness, and goodness, come from smoking flax and bruised reeds.

      8. II. Thus, then, my dear friends, I have tried to determine the people to whom this text applies, and I have shown you something of mortal frailty; now I mount; step higher — TO DIVINE COMPASSION. “The bruised reed he will not break, the smoking flax he will not quench.”

      9. Notice what is first of all stated, and then let me tell you that Jesus Christ means a great deal more than he says. First of all, what does he say? He says plainly enough that he will not break the bruised reed. There is a bruised reed before me — a poor child of God under a deep sense of sin. It seems as if the whip of the law would never stop. It keeps on, lash, lash, lash; and though you say, “Lord, stop it, and give me a little respite,” still comes down the cruel thong, lash, lash, lash. You feel your sins. Ah! I know what you are saying this morning: “If God continues this a little longer my heart will break: I shall perish in despair; I am almost distracted by my sin”; if I lie down at night I cannot sleep; it appears as if ghosts were in the room — ghosts of my sins — and when I awake at midnight, I see the black form of death staring at me, and saying, “You are my prey, I shall have you”; while hell behind seems to burn. Ah! poor bruised reed, he will not break you; conviction shall be too strong; it shall be great enough to melt you, and to make you go to Jesus’ feet; but it shall not be strong enough to break your bones altogether, so that you should die. You shall never be driven to despair; but you shall be delivered; you shall come out of the fire, poor bruised reed, and shall not be broken.

      10. So there is a backslider here this morning; he is like the smoking flax. Years gone by you found such happiness in the ways of the Lord, and such delight in his service, that you said, “There I would for ever stay.

      What peaceful hours I then enjoyed;

      How sweat their memory still!

      But they have left an aching void,

      The world can never fill.”

      You are smoking, and you think God will put you out. If I were an Arminian, I would tell you that he would, but being a believer in the Bible, and nothing else, I tell you that he will not quench you. Though you are smoking, you shall not die. Whatever your crime has been, the Lord says, “Return you backsliding children of men, for I will have mercy upon you.” He will not cast you away, poor Ephraim; only come back to him — he will not despise