The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon

Let us go to him and say, “He shall heal our backslidings, he shall love us freely and forgive us graciously, for his Son’s name’s sake.” Oh! if I may only win one soul today, I will go home contented. If I may only gain twenty, then I will rejoice. The more I have, the more crowns I shall wear. Wear! No, I will take them all at once, and cast them at Jesus’ feet, and say, “Not to me, but to your name be all the glory, for ever.”

      Prayer was appointed to convey

      The blessings God designs to give;

      Long as they live, should Christians pray,

      For only while they pray they live.

      And will you still in silence lie,

      When Christ stands waiting for your prayer?

      My soul, you have a friend on high,

      Arise, and try your interest there.

      ’Tis prayer supports the soul that’s weak,

      Though thought be broken, language lame;

      Pray, if you can, or cannot speak,

      But pray with faith in Jesus’ name.

      {a} Peri: In Persian Mythology, one of a race of superhuman beings, originally represented as of evil or malevolent character, but subsequently as good genii, fairies, or angels, endowed with grace and beauty. OED.

      Joseph Attacked By The Archers

      No. 17-1:125. A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, April 1, 1855, By C. H. Spurgeon, At Exeter Hall, Strand.

      The archers have bitterly grieved him, and shot at him, and hated him; but his bow remained in strength, and his hands were made strong by the hands of the Mighty God of Jacob; (from there is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel:) {Genesis 49:23,24}

      1. It must have been a fine sight to see the hoary headed Jacob sitting up in his bed while he bestowed his parting benediction upon his twelve sons. He had been noble in many instances during his life — at the sleeping place of Bethel, the brook of Jabbok, and the halting of Peniel. He had been a glorious old man, one before whom we might bow down with reverence, and truly say, “There were giants in those days.” But his closing scene was the best. I think if ever he stood out more illustriously than at any other time, if his head was, at any one season more than another, encircled with a halo of glory, it was the time when he came to die. Like the sun at setting, he seemed then to be the greater in brilliance, tinging the clouds of his weakness with the glory of grace within. Like good wine which runs clear to the very bottom, unalloyed by dregs, so did Jacob, until his dying hour, continue to sing of love, of mercy, and of goodness, past and future. Like the swan, which (as old writers say) does not sing all its life until it comes to die, so the old patriarch remained silent as a songster for many years, but when he stretched himself on his last couch of rest, he propped himself up in his bed, turned his burning eye from one to another, and although with a hoarse and faltering voice, he sang a sonnet for each of his offspring, such as earthly poets, uninspired, cannot attempt to imitate. Looking upon his son Reuben, a tear was in his eye, for he remembered Reuben’s sin; he passed over Simeon and Levi, giving some slight rebuke; upon the others he sung a verse of praise, as his eyes saw into the future history of the tribes. By and by his voice failed him, and the good old man, with long drawn breath, with eyes pregnant with celestial fire, and heart swelled with heaven, lifted his voice to God, and said, “I have waited for your salvation, oh God,” rested a moment on his pillow, and then, again, sitting up, recommenced the strain, passing briefly by the names of each. But oh! when he came to Joseph, his youngest son except one — when he looked on him, I picture that old man as the tears ran down his cheeks. There stood Joseph, with all his mother Rachel in his eyes — that dearly loved wife of his — there he stood, the boy for whom that mother had prayed with all the eagerness of an eastern wife. For a long fourteen years she had tarried a barren woman and kept no house, but then she was a joyful mother, and she called her son “increase.” Oh! how she loved the boy; and for that mother’s sake, though she had been buried for some years and hidden under the cold sod, old Jacob loved him too. But more than that, he loved him for his troubles. He was parted from him to be sold into Egypt. His father remembered Joseph’s trials in the round house and the dungeon, and remembered his royal dignity as prince of Egypt; and now with a full burst of harmony, as if the music of heaven had united with his own, as when the widened river meets the sea, and the tide coming up does amalgamate with the stream that comes down, and swells into a broad expanse, so did the glory of heaven meet the rapture of his earthly feelings, and giving vent to his soul, he sang “Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough by a well, whose branches run over the wall; the archers have bitterly grieved him, and shot at him, and hated him; but his bow remained in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the Mighty God of Jacob; (from there is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel:) even by the God of your father, who shall help you; and by the Almighty, who shall bless you with blessings of heaven above, blessings of the deep that lies under, blessings of the breasts, and of the womb: the blessings of your fathers have prevailed above the blessings of my progenitors to the utmost bound of the everlasting hills: they shall be on the head of Joseph, and on the crown of the head of him who was separate from his brethren.” What a splendid stanza with which to close! He has only one more blessing to give; but surely this was the richest which he conferred on Joseph.

      2. Joseph is dead, but the Lord has his Josephs now. There are some still who understand by experience — and that is the best kind of understanding — the meaning of this passage, “The archers have bitterly grieved him, and shot at him, and hated him: but his bow remained in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the Mighty God of Jacob.”

      3. There are four things for us to consider this morning: first of all, the cruel attack, — “the archers have bitterly grieved him, shot at him, and hated him”; secondly, the shielded warrior, — “but his bow remained in strength”; thirdly, his secret strength, — “the arms of his hands were made strong by the mighty power of the God of Jacob”; and fourthly, the glorious parallel drawn between Joseph and Christ, — “from there is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel.”

      4. I. First, then, we commence with THE CRUEL ATTACK. “The archers have bitterly grieved him.” Joseph’s enemies were archers. The original has it, “masters of the arrows,” that is, men who were well skilled in the use of the arrow. Though all weapons are alike approved by the warrior in his thirst for blood, there seems something more cowardly in the attack of the archer, than in that of the swordsman. The swordsman plants himself near you, foot to foot, and lets you defend yourself and deal your blows against him; but the archer stands at a distance, hides himself in ambush, and, without your knowing it, the arrow comes whizzing through the air, and perhaps penetrates your heart. Just so are the enemies of God’s people. They very seldom come foot to foot with us; they will not show their faces before us; they hate the light, they love darkness; they dare not come and openly accuse us to our face, for then we could reply; but they shoot the bow from a distance, so that we cannot answer them; cowardly and dastardly as they are, they forge their arrowheads, and aim them, winged with hell’s bird feathers, at the hearts of God’s people. The archers bitterly grieved poor Joseph. Let us consider who the archers were who so cruelly shot at him. First, there were the archers of envy; secondly, the archers of temptation; and thirdly, the archers of slander and calumny.

      5. 1. First, Joseph had to endure the archers of ENVY. When he was a boy, his father loved him. The youth was fair and beautiful; in person, he was to be admired; moreover, he had a mind that was gigantic, and an intellect that was lofty; but, best of all, in him dwelt the Spirit of the living God. He was one who talked with God; a youth of piety and prayerfulness; beloved of God, even more than he was of his earthly father. Oh! how his father loved him! for in his fond affection, he made him a princely coat of many colours, and treated him better than the others — a natural but foolish way of showing his fondness. Therefore, his brothers hated him. Frequently they jeered at the youthful Joseph, when he retired to his