The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon

the willows? I am glad you have not broken the harp altogether. Better, to hang it on the willows than to break it; be sure not to break it. Instead of being distressed about your trouble, rejoice in it; you will then honour God, you will glorify Christ, you will bring sinners to Jesus, if you will sing in the depths of trouble, for then they will say, “There must be something in religion after all, otherwise the man would not be so happy.”

      22. Then one word with you who are almost driven to despair. I would stretch my hands out, if I could, this morning — for I believe a preacher ought to be a Briareus, {b} with a thousand hands to fetch out his hearers, one by one, and speak to them. There is a man here quite despairing — almost every hope gone. Brother, shall I tell you what to do? You have fallen off the main deck, you are in the sea, the floods surround you; you seem to have no hope; you grasp at straws; what shall you do now? Do? why lie upon the sea of trouble, and float upon it; be still, and know that God is God, and you will never perish. All your kicking and struggling will sink you deeper; but lie still, for behold the lifeboat comes; Christ is coming to your help; soon he will deliver you, and fetch you out of all your perplexities.

      23. Lastly, some of you have no interest in this sermon at all. I never try to deceive my hearers by making them believe that all I say belongs to all who hear me. There are different characters in God’s Word; it is yours to search your own hearts this day, and see whether you are God’s people, or not. As the Lord lives, before whom I stand, there are two classes here. I do not own the distinction of aristocratic and democratic; in my sight, and in God’s sight, every man is alike. We are made of one flesh and blood; we do not have china gentlemen and earthenware poor people; we are all made of the same mould of fashion. There is one distinction, and only one. You are all either the children of God, or children of the devil; you are all either born again, or dead in trespasses and sins. It is yours to let the question ring in your ears: “Where am I? Is that black tyrant, with his fiery sword, my king; or do I own Jehovah Jesus as my strength, my shield, my Saviour?” I shall not force you to answer it; I shall not say anything to you about it. Only answer it for yourselves; let your hearts speak; let your souls speak. All I can do is to pose the question. May God apply it to your souls! I beseech him to send it home! and make the arrow stick fast!

      Is Jesus mine! I am now prepared,

      To meet with what I thought most hard;

      Yes, let the winds of trouble blow,

      And comforts melt away like snow,

      No blasted trees, nor failing crops,

      Can hinder my eternal hopes;

      Tho’ creatures change, the Lord’s the same,

      Then let me triumph in his name.

      {a} Parian: Belonging to the island of Paros, one of the Cyclades, famed for a white marble highly valued among the ancients for statuary. OED.

      {b} Briareus: a hundred handed giant of Greek mythology.

      The Victory Of Faith

      No. 14-1:101. A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, March 18, 1856, By C. H. Spurgeon, At Exeter Hall, Strand.

      For whoever is born of God overcomes the world: and this is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith. {1 John 5:4}

      1. The epistles of John are perfumed with love. The word is continually occurring, while the Spirit enters into every sentence. Each letter is thoroughly soaked and impregnated with this heavenly honey. If he speaks of God, his name must be love; are the brethren mentioned, he loves them; and even of the world itself, he writes, “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.” From the opening to the conclusion, love is the manner, love the matter, love the motive, and love the aim. We stand, therefore, not a little astonished, to find such martial words in so peaceful a writing; for I hear a sound of war. It is not the voice of love, surely, that says, “He who is born of God overcomes the world.” Lo, here are strife and battle. The word “overcomes” seems to have in it something of the sword and warfare; of strife and contention; of agony and wrestling; so unlike the love which is smooth and gentle, which has no harsh words within its lips; whose mouth is lined with velvet; whose words are softer than butter; whose utterances are more easily flowing than oil. Here we have war — war to the knife; for I read, “Whoever is born of God overcomes the world”; strife until death; battle throughout life; fighting with a certainty of victory. How is it that the same gospel which always speaks of peace, here proclaims a warfare? How can it be? Simply because there is something in the world which is antagonistic to love; there are principles abroad which cannot bear light, and, therefore, before light can come, it must chase the darkness. Before summer reigns, you know, it has to do battle with old winter, and to send it howling away in the winds of March, and shedding its tears in April showers. So also, before any great or good thing can have the mastery of this world, it must do battle for it. Satan has seated himself on his blood stained throne, and who shall pull him down, except by brute force, and fight, and war? Darkness broods over the nations; nor can the sun establish his empire of light until he has pierced night with the arrowy sunbeams, and made it flee away. Hence we read in the Bible that Christ did not come to send peace on earth, but a sword; he came to set “the father against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law”; not intentionally, but as a means to an end; because there must always be a struggle before truth and righteousness can reign. Alas! for that earth is the battlefield where good must combat with evil. Angels look on, and hold their breath, burning to mingle in the conflict, but the troops of the Captain of Salvation can only be the soldiers of the cross; and that slender band must fight alone, and yet shall triumph gloriously. Enough shall they be for conquest, and the motto of their standard is ENOUGH. Enough by the arm of the helping Trinity.

      2. As God shall help me, I shall speak to you of three things to be found in the text. First, the text speaks of a great victory: it says, “This is the victory.” Secondly, it mentions a great birth : “Whoever is born of God.” And, thirdly, it extols a great grace, by which we overcome the world, “even our faith.”

      3. I. First, the text speaks of a GREAT VICTORY — the victory of victories — the greatest of all. We know there have been great battles where nations have met in strife, and one has overcome the other; but who has read of a victory that overcame the world? Some will say that Alexander was its conqueror; but I answer, no. He was himself the vanquished man, even when all things were in his possession. He fought for the world, and won it; and then note how it mastered its master, conquered its conqueror, and lashed the monarch who had been its scourge. See the royal youth weeping, and stretching out his hands with idiotic cries, for another world which he might ravage. He seemed, in outward show, to have overcome old earth; but, in reality, within his inmost soul, the earth had conquered him, had overwhelmed him, had wrapped him in the dream of ambition, girdled him with the chains of covetousness, so that when he had all, he was still dissatisfied; and, like a poor slave, was dragged on at the chariot wheels of the world, crying, moaning, lamenting, because he could not win another. Who is the man that ever overcame the world? Let him stand forward: he is a Triton among the minnows; he shall outshine Caesar; he shall excel even our own lately departed Wellington, if he can say he has overcome the world. It is so rare a thing, a victory so prodigious, a conquest so tremendous, that he who can claim to have won it may walk among his fellows, like Saul with head and shoulders far above them. He shall command our respect; his very presence shall awe us into reverence; his speech shall persuade us to obedience; and, yielding honour to whom honour is due, we’ll say when we listen to his voice, “It is even as if an angel shook his wings.”

      4. I shall now attempt to expand the idea I have suggested, showing you in what varied senses the Christian overcomes the world. A tough battle, sirs, I warrant you: not one which carpet knights might win: no easy skirmish that he might win, who dashed to battle on some sunshiny day, looked at the host, then turned his horse’s reins, and daintily dismounted at the door of his silken tent — not one which he shall gain, who, but a raw recruit today, puts on his