“Wherefore he in able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God
by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.” Hebrews 7:25
SALVATION is a doctrine peculiar to revelation. Revelation affords us a
complete history of it, but nowhere else can we find any trace thereof. God
has written many books, but only one book has had for its aim the teaching
of the ways of mercy. He has written the great book of creation, which it is
our duty and our pleasure to read. It is a volume embellished on its surface
with starry gems and rainbow colors, and containing in its inner leaves
marvels at which the wise may wonder for ages, and yet find a fresh theme
for their conjectures. Nature is the spelling-book of man, in which he may
learn his Maker’s name, he hath studded it with embroidery, with gold,
with gems. There are doctrines of truth in the mighty stars, and there are
lessons written on the green earth and in the flowers upspringing from the
sod. We read the books of God when we see the storm and tempest, for all
things speak as God would have them; and if our ears are open we may
hear the voice of God in the rippling of every rill, in the roll of every
thunder, in the brightness of every lightning, in the twinkling of every star,
in the budding of every flower. God has written the great book of creation,
to teach us what he is — how great, how mighty. But I read nothing of
salvation in creation. The rocks tell me, “Salvation is not in us;” the winds
howl, but they howl not salvation: the waves rush upon the shore, but
among the wrecks which they wash up, they reveal no trace of salvation;
the fathomless eaves of ocean bear pearls but they bear no pearls of grace;
the starry heavens have their flashing meteors, but they have no voices of
salvation. I find salvation written nowhere, till in this volume of my
Father’s grace I find his blessed love unfolded towards the great human
family, teaching them that they are lost, but that he can save them, and that
in saving them he can be “just, and yet the justifier of the ungodly.”
Salvation, then, is to be found in the Scriptures, and in the Scriptures only;
for we can read nothing of it elsewhere. And while it is to be found only in
Scripture, I hold that the peculiar doctrine of revelation is salvation. I
believe that the Bible was sent not to teach me history, but to teach me
grace — not to give me a system of philosophy, but to give me a system of
divinity — not to teach worldly wisdom, but spiritual wisdom. Hence I
hold all preaching of philosophy and science in the pulpit to be altogether
out of place. I would cheek no mans liberty in this matter, for God only is
the Judge of man’s conscience; but it is my firm opinion that if we profess
to be Christians, we are bound to keep to Christianity; if we profess to be
Christian ministers, we drivel away the Sabbath-day, we meek our hearers,
we insult God, if we deliver lectures upon botany, or geology, instead of
delivering sermons on salvation. He who does not always preach the
gospel, ought not to be accounted a true-called minister of God.
Well, then it is salvation I desire to preach to you. We have, in our text,
two or three things. In the first place, we are told who they are who will be
saved,” them that come unto God by Jesus Christ;” in the second place we
are told the extent of the Savior’s ability to save, “he is able to save to the
uttermost ;” and in the third place, we have the reason given why he can
save, “seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.”
I. First, we are told THE PEOPLE WHO ARE TO BE SAVED. And the people
who are to be saved are “those who come unto God by Jesus Christ.”
There is no limitation here of sect or denomination: it does not say, the
Baptist, the Independent, or the Episcopalian that comes unto God by
Jesus Christ, but it simply says, “them,” by which I understand men of all
creeds, men of all ranks, men of all classes, who do but come to Jesus
Christ. They shall be saved, whatever their apparent position before men,
or whatever may be the denomination to which they have linked
themselves.
1. Now. I must have you notice, in the first place, where these people come
to. They “come unto God.” By coming to God we are not to understand
the mere formality of devotion, since this may be but a solemn means of
sinning. What a splendid general confession is that in the Church of
England Prayer Book: “We have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost
sheep; we have done those things which we ought not to have done, and
we have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and there
is no health in us.” There is not to be found a finer confession in the
English language. And yet how often, my dear friends, have the best of us
mocked God by repeating such expressions verbally, and thinking we have
done our duty! How many of you go to chapel, and must confess your own
absence of mind while you have bowed your knee in prayer, or uttered a
song of praise! My friends it is one thing to go to church or chapel; it is
quite another thing to go to God. There are many people who can pray
right eloquently, and who do so; who have learned a form of prayer by
heart, or, perhaps, use an extemporary form of words of their own
composing: but who, instead of going to God, are all the while going from
God. Let me persuade you all not to be content with mere formality. There
will be many damned who never broke the Sabbath, AS they thought, but
who, all their lives were Sabbath-breakers. It is as much possible to break
the Sabbath in a church as it is to break the Sabbath in the park, it is as
easy to break it here in this solemn assembly as in your own houses. Every
one of you virtually break the Sabbath when you merely go through a
round of duties, having done which, you retire to your chambers, fully
content with yourselves, and fancy that all is over — that you have done
your day’s work — whereas, you have never come to God at all, but have
merely come to the outward ordinance and to the visible means, which is
quite another thing from coming to God himself.
And let me tell you, again that coming to God is not what some of you
suppose — now and then sincerely performing an act of devotion, but
giving to the world the greater part of your life. You think that if
sometimes you are sincere, if now and then you put up an earnest cry to
heaver, God will accept you; and though your life may be still worldly, and
your desires still carnal, you suppose that for the sake of this occasional
devotion God will be pleased, in his infinite mercy, to blot out your sins. I
tell you, sinners, there is no such thing as bringing half of yourselves to
God, and leaving the other half away. If a man has come here, I suppose he
has brought his whole self with him, and so if a man comes to God, he
cannot come, half of him and half of him stay away. Our whole being must
be surrendered to the service of our Maker. We must come to him with an
entire dedication of ourselves giving up all we are, and all we ever shall be,
to be thoroughly devoted to his service, otherwise we have never come to
God aright. I am astonished to see how people in these days try to love the
world and love Christ too, according to the old proverb, they “hold with
the hare and run with the hounds.” They are real good Christians
sometimes, when they think they ought to be religious; but they are right
bad fellows at other seasons, when they think that religion would be a little
loss to them. Let me warn you all. It is of no earthly use for you to pretend
to be on two sides of the question. “If God be God, serve him; If Baal be
God, serve him.” I like an out-and-out man of any sort. Give me a man that
is a sinner; I have some hope for him when I see him sincere in his vices,
and open in acknowledging, his own character, but if you give me a man
who is half-hearted, who is not quite bold enough to be all for the devil,
nor quite sincere enough to be all for Christ, I tell you, I despair of such a
man as that. The man who wants to link the two together is in an extremely
hopeless case. Do you think, sinners, you will be able to serve two masters,
when Christ has said you cannot? Do you fancy you can walk with God
and walk with mammon too? Will you take God on one arm and the devil
on the other? Do you suppose you can be allowed to drink the cup of the
Lord, and the cup of Satan at the same time? I tell you, ye shall depart, as
cursed and miserable hypocrites, if so you come to God. God will have the
whole of you come, or else you shall not come at all. The whole man must
seek after the Lord, the whole soul must be poured out before him,
otherwise it is no acceptable coming to God at all. Oh, halters between two
opinions, remember this and tremble.
I think I hear one say “Well, then tell us what it is to come to God.” I
answer, coming to God implies leaving something else. If a man comes to
God, he must leave his sins; he must leave his righteousness; he must leave
both his bad works and his good ones, and come to God, leaving them
entirely.
Again, coming to God implies, that there is no aversion towards him, for a
man will not come to God while he hates God, he will be sure to keep
away. Coming to God signifies having some love to God. Again: coming to
God signifies desiring God, desiring to be near to him. And, above all, it
signifies praying to God and putting faith in him. That is coming to God;
and those that have come to God in that fashion are among the saved. They
come to God: that is the place to which their eager spirits hasten.
2. But notice, next, how they come. They “come unto God by Jesus
Christ.” We have known many persons who call themselves natural
religionists. They worship the God of nature, and they think that they can
approach God apart from Jesus Christ. There be some men we wot of who
despise the mediation of the Savior, and, who, if they were in an hour of
peril, would put up their prayer at once to God, without faith in the
Mediator. Do such of you fancy that you will be heard and saved by the
great God your Creator, apart from the merits of his Son? Let me solemnly
assure you, in God’s most holy name, there never was a prayer answered
for salvation, by God the Creator, since Adam fell, without Jesus Christ the
Mediator. “No man can come unto God bus by Jesus Christ ,” and if any
one of you deny the Divinity of Christ, and if any soul among you do not
come to God through the merits of a Savior, bold fidelity obliges me to
pronounce you condemned persons, for however amiable you may be, you
cannot be right in the rest, unless you think rightly of him. I tell you, ye
may offer all the prayers that ever may be prayed, but ye shall be damned,
unless ye put them up through Christ. It is all in vain for you to take your
prayers and carry them yourself to the throne. “Get thee hence, sinner, get
thee hence,” says God; “I never knew thee. Why didst not thou put thy
prayer into the hands of a Mediator? It would have been sure of an answer.
But as thou presentest it thyself, see what I will do with it!” And he reads
your petition, and casts it to the four winds of heaven, and thou goest away
unheard, unsaved. The Father will never save a man apart from Christ;
there is not one soul now in heaven who was not saved by Jesus Christ
there is not one who ever came to God aright, who did not come through
Jesus Christ. If you would be at peace with God, you must come to him
through Christ, as the way the truth, and the life, making mention of his
righteousness and of his only.
3. But when these people come, what do they come for? There are some
who think they come to God, who do not come for the right thing. Many a
young student cries to God to help him in his studies, many a merchant
comes to God that he may be guided through a dilemma in his business.
They are accustomed, in any difficultly, to put up some kind of prayer,
which if they knew its value, they might cease from offering, for “the
sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord.” But the poor sinner,
in coming to Christ, has only one object. If all the world were offered to
him, he would not think it worth his acceptance if he could not have Jesus
Christ. There is a poor man, condemned to die, locked up in the
condemned cell: the bell is tolling: he will soon be taken off to die on the
gallows. There, man, I have brought you a fine robe. What! not smile at it?
Look! it is stiff with silver! Mark you not how it is bedizened with jewels?
Such a robe as that cost many and many a pound, and much fine
workmanship was expended on it. Contemptuously he smiles at it! See
here, man, I present thee something else: here is a glorious estate for thee,
with broad acres, fine mansions, parker and lawns; take that title deed, ‘tis
thine. What! not smile, sir? Had I given that estate to any man who walked
the street, less poor than thou art, he would have danced for very joy. And
wilt not thou afford a smile, when I make thee rich and clothe thee with
gold? Then let me try once more. There is Caesar’s purple for thee; put it
on thy shoulders — there is his crown; it shall sit on no other head but
thine. It is the crown of empires that know no limit. I’ll make thee a king,
thou shalt have a kingdom upon which the sun shall never set, thou shalt
reign from pole to pole. Stand up, call thyself Caesar. Thou art emperor.
What! no smile? What dost thou want? “Take away that bauble,” says he
of the crown “rend up that worthless parchment; take away that robe; ay,
cast it to the winds. Give it to the kings of the earth who live; but I have to
die, and of what use are these to me? Give me a pardon, and I will not care
to be a Caesar. Let me live a beggar, rather than die a prince.” So is it with
the sinner when he comes to God: he comes for salvation. He says —
“Wealth and honor I disdain;
Earthly comforts, Lord, are vain,
These will never satisfy,
Give me Christ, or else I die.”
Mercy is his sole request. O my friends, if you have ever come to God,
crying out for salvation, and for salvation only, then you have come unto
God right. It were useless then to mock you. You cry for bread: should I
give you stones? You would but hurl them at me. Should I offer you
wealth? It would be little. We must preach to the sinner who comes to
Christ, the gift for which he asks — the gift of salvation by Jesus Christ the
Lord — as being his own by faith.
4. One more thought upon this coming to Christ. In what style do these
persons come? I will try and give you a description of certain persons, all
coming to the gate of mercy, as they think, for salvation. There comes one,
a fine fellow in a coach and six! See how hard he drives, and how rapidly
he travels, he is a fine fellow, he has men in livery, and his horses are richly
caparisoned, he is rich, exceeding rich. He drives up to the gate, and says,
“Knock at that gate for me; I am rich enough, but still I dare say it would
be as well to be on the safe side; I am a very respectable gentleman, I have
enough of my own good works and my own merits, and this chariot, I dare
say, would carry me across the river death, and land me safe on the other
side, but still, it is fashionable to be religious, so I will approach the gate.
Porter! undo the gates, and let me in; see what an honorable man I am.”
You will never find the gates undone for that man; he does not approach in
the right manner. There comes another; he has not quite so much merit, but
still he has some, he comes walking along, and having leisurely marched
up, he cries, “Angel! open the gate to me, I am come to Christ: I think I
should like to be saved. I do not feel that I very much require salvation, I
have always been a very honest, upright, moral man, I do not know myself
to have been much of a sinner; I have robes of my own; but I would not
mind putting Christ’s robes on; it would not hurt me. I may as well have
the wedding garment; then I can have mine own too.” Ah! the gates are
still hard and fast, and there is no opening of them. But let me show you
the right man. There he comes, sighing and groaning, crying and weeping
all the way. He has a rope on his neck, for he thinks he deserves to be
condemned. He has rags on him, he comes to the heavenly throne, and
when he approaches mercy’s gate he is almost afraid to knock. He lifts up
his eyes and he sees it written, “Knock, and it shall be opened to you;” but
he fears lest he should profane the gate by his poor touch; he gives at first a
gentle rap, and if mercy’s gate open not, he is a poor dying creature, so he
gives another rep, then another and another, and although he raps times
without number, and no answer comes, still he is a sinful man, and he
knows himself to be unworthy; so he keeps rapping still; and at last the
good angel smiling from the gate, says, “Ah! this gate was built for
beggars, not for princes; heaven’s gate was made for spiritual paupers, not
for rich men Christ died for sinners, not for those who are good and
excellent. He came into the world to save the vile.
‘Not the righteous, —
Sinners, Jesus came to call.’
Come in, poor man! Come in. Thrice welcome!” And the angels sing,
“Thrice welcome!” How many of you, dear friends, have come to God by
Jesus Christ in that fashion? Not with the pompous pride of the Pharisee,
not with the cant of the good man who thinks he deserves salvation, but
with the sincere cry of a penitent, with the earnest desire of a thirsty soul
after living water, panting as the thirsty hart in the wilderness after the
waterbrooks, desiring Christ as they that look for the morning, I say, more
than they that look for the morning. As my God who sits in heaven liveth,
if you have not come to God in this fashion, you have not come to God at
all, but if you have thus come to God, here is the glorious word for you —
“He is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him.”
II. Thus we have disposed of the first point, the coming to God; and now,
secondly, WHAT IS THE MEASURE OF THE: SAVIOR’S ABILITY? This is a
question as important as if it were for life or death — a question as to the
ability of Jesus Christ. How far can salvation go? What are its limits and its
boundaries? Christ is a Savior, how far is he able to save? He is a
Physician: to what extent will his skill reach to heal diseases? What a noble
answer the text gives! “He is able to save to the uttermost.” Now, I will
certainly affirm, and no one can deny it, that no one here knows how far
the uttermost is. David said, if he took the wings of the morning, to fly to
the uttermost parts of the sea, even there should God reach him. But who
knoweth where the uttermost is? Borrow the angel’s wing’s and fly far, far
beyond the most remote star: go where wing has never flapped before, and
where the undisturbed ether is as serene and quiet as the breast of Deity
itself: you will not come to the uttermost. Go on still; mounted on a
morning ray, fly on still, beyond the bounds of creation, where space itself
fails, and where chaos takes up its reign: you will not come to the
uttermost. It is too far for mortal intellect to conceive of; it is beyond the
range of reason or of thought. Now, our text tells us that Christ is “able to
save to the uttermost.”
1. Sinner, I shall address thee first, and saints of God, I shall address you
afterwards. Sinner, Christ is “able to save to the uttermost,” by which we
understand that the uttermost extent of guilt is not beyond the power of the
Savior. Can any one tell what is the uttermost amount to which a man
might sin? Some of us conceive that Palmer has gone almost to the
uttermost of human depravity; we fancy that no heart could be much more
vile than that which conceived a murder so deliberate, and contemplated a
crime so protracted; but I can conceive it possible that there might be even
worse men than he, and that if his life were spared, and he were set at
large, he might become even a worse man than he is now. Yea SUPPOSING
he were to commit another murder, and then another, and another, would
he have gone to the uttermost? Could not a man be yet more guilty? As
long as ever he lives, he may become more guilty than he was the day
before. But yet my text says Christ is “able to save to the uttermost.” I may
imagine a person has crept in here who thinks himself to be the most
loathsome of all beings, the most condemned of all creatures. “Surely,”
says he, “I have gone to the utmost extremity of sin; none could outstrip
me in vice.” My dear friend, suppose you had gone to the uttermost,
remember that even then you would not have gone beyond the reach of
divine mercy; for he is “able to save to the uttermost,” and it is possible
that you yourself might go a little further, and therefore you have not gone
to the uttermost yet, However far you may have gone — if you have gone
to the very arctic regions of vice, where the sun of mercy seems to scatter
but a few oblique rays, there can the light of salvation reach you. If I
should see a sinner staggering on in his progress to hell, I would not give
him up, even when he had advanced to the last stage of iniquity. Though
his foot hung trembling over the very verge of perdition, I would not cease
to pray for him; and though he should in his poor drunken wickedness go
staggering on till one foot were over hell, and he were ready to perish, I
would not despair of him. Till the pit had shut her mouth upon him I would
believe it still possible that divine grace might save him See there! he is just
upon the edge of the pit, ready to fall; but ere he falls, free grace bids,
“Arrest that man!” Down mercy comes, catches him on her broad wings,
and he is saved, a trophy of redeeming love. It there be any such in this
vast assembly — if there be any here of the outcast of society, the vilest of
the vile, the scum, the draff of this poor world, — oh! ye chief of sinners!
Christ is “able to save to the uttermost.” Tell that every-where in every
garret, in every cellar, in every haunt of vice, in every kennel of sin, tell it
everywhere! “To the uttermost!” “He is able also to save them to the
uttermost.”
2. Yet again: not only to the uttermost of crime, but to the uttermost of
rejection. I must explain what I mean by this. There are many of you here
who have heard the gospel from your youth up. I see some here, who like
myself are children of pious parents. There are some of you upon whose
infant forehead the pure heavenly drops of a mother’s tears continually fell;
there are many of you here who were trained up by one whose knee,
whenever it was bent, was ever bent for you. She never rested in her bed at
night till she had prayed for you, her first-born son. Your mother has gone
to heaven, it may be, and all the prayers she ever prayed for you are as yet
unanswered. Sometimes you wept. You remember well how she grasped
your hand, and said to you, “Ah! John, you will break my heart by this your
sin, if you continue running on in those ways of iniquity: oh! if you did but
know how your mother’s heart yearns for your salvation, surely your soul
would melt, and you would fly to Christ.” Do you not remember that time?
The hot sweat stood upon your brow, and you said — for you could not
break her heart — “Mother, I will think of it;” and you did think of it; but
you met your companion outside, and it was all gone: your mother’s
expostulation was brushed away, like the thin cobwebs of the gossamer,
blown by the swift north wind, not a trace of it was left. Since then you
have often stepped in to hear the minister. Not long ago you heard a
powerful sermon; the minister spoke as though he were a man just started
from his grave, with as much earnestness as if he had been a sheeted ghost
come back from the realms of despair, to tell you his own awful fate, and
warn you of it. You remember how the tears rolled down your cheeks,
while he told you of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment to come; you
remember how he preached to you Jesus and salvation by the cross, and
you rose up from your seat in that chapel and you said, Please God I am
spared another day, I will turn to him with full purpose of heart.” And
there you are, still unchanged — perhaps worse than you were; and you
have spent your Sunday afternoon the angel knows where: and your
mother’s spirit knows where you have spent it too, and could she weep,
she would weep over you who have this day despised God’s Sabbath, and
trampled on his Holy Word. But dost thou feel in thine heart to-night the
tender motions of the Holy Spirit? Dost thou feel something say, “Sinner!
come to Christ now?” Dost thou hear conscience whispering to thee,
telling thee of thy past transgression? And is there some sweet angel voice,
saying, “Come to Jesus, come to Jesus; he will save you yet?” I tell you,
sinner, you may have rejected Christ to the very uttermost; but he is still
able to save you. There are a thousand prayers on which you have
trampled, there are a hundred sermons all wasted on you, there are
thousands of Sabbaths which you have thrown away, you have rejected
Christ you have despised his Spirit, but still he ceases not to cry, “Return,
return!” He is “able to save thee to the uttermost,” if thou comest unto
God by him.
3. There is another case which demands my particular attention to- light. It
is that of the man who has gone to the uttermost of despair. There are
some poor creatures in this world, who from a course of crime have
become hardened, and when at last aroused by remorse and the prickings
of conscience, there is an evil spirit which broods over them, telling them it
is hopeless for such as they are to seek salvation. We have met with some
who have gone so far that they have thought that even devils might be
saved rather than they could. They have given themselves tip for lost, and
signed their own death-warrant, and in such a state of mind have positively
taken the halter in their hand, to end their unhappy lives. Despair has
brought many a man to a premature death; it hath sharpened many a knife,
and mingled many a cup of poison. Have I a despairing person here? I
know him by his sombre face and downcast looks. He wishes he were
dead, for he thinks that hell itself could be scarce worse torment than to be
here expecting it. Let me whisper to him words of consolation. Despairing
soul! hope yet, for Christ “is able to save to the uttermost;” and though
thou art put in the lowest dungeon of the castle of despair, though key
after key hath been turned upon thee, and this iron grating of thy window
forbids all filing, and the height of thy prison-wall is so awful that thou
couldst not expect to escape, yet let me tell thee, there is one at the Fate
who can break every bolt, and undo every lock, there is one who can lead
thee out to God’s free air and save thee yet, for though the worst may
come to the worst, he “is able to save thee to the uttermost.”
4. And now a word to the saint, to comfort him for this text is his also.
Beloved brother in the gospel! Christ is able to save thee to the uttermost.
Art thou brought very low by distress? hast thou lost house and home,
friend and property? Remember, thou hast not come “to the uttermost”
yet. Badly off as thou art, thou mightest be worse. He is able to save thee,
and suppose it should come to this, that thou hadst not a rag left, nor a
crust, nor a drop of water, still he would be able to save thee, for “he is
able to save to the uttermost.” So with temptation. If thou shouldst have
the sharpest temptation with which mortal was ever tried, he is able to save
thee. If thou shouldst be brought into such a predicament that the foot of
the devil should be upon thy neck, and the fiend should say, “Now I will
make an end of thee,” God would be able to save thee then. Ay, and in the
uttermost infirmity shouldst thou live for many a year, till thou art leaning
on thy staff, and tottering along thy weary life, if thou shouldst outlive
Methusaleh, thou couldst not live beyond the uttermost, and he would save
thee then. Yea, and when thy little bark is launched by death Upon the
unknown sea of eternity, he will be with thee, and though thick vapours of
gloomy darkness gather round thee, and thou canst not see into the dim
future, though thy thoughts tell thee that thou wilt be destroyed, yet God
will be “able to save thee to the uttermost.”
Then, my friends, if Christ is able to save a Christian to the uttermost, do
you suppose he will ever let a Christian perish? Wherever I go, I hope
always to bear my hearty protest against the most accursed doctrine of a
saint’s falling away and perishing. There are some ministers who preach
that a man may be a child of God (now, angels! do not hear what I am
about to say, listen to me, ye who are down below in hell, for it may suit
you) that a man may be a child of God to-day, and a child of the devil tomorrow;
that God may acquit a man, and yet condemn him — save him by
grace, and then let him perish — suffer a man to be taken out of Christ’s
hands, though he has said such a thing shall never take place. How will you
explain this? It certainly is no leek of power. You must accuse him of a
want of love, and will you dare to do that? He is full of love; and since he
has also the power, he will never suffer one of his people to perish. It is
true, and ever shall be true, that he will save them to the very uttermost.
III. Now, in the last place, WHY IS IT THAT JESUS CHRIST IS “ABLE TO
SAVE TO THE UTTERMOST?” The answer is, that he “ever liveth to make
intercession for them.” This implies that he died, which is indeed the great
source of his saving power. Oh! how sweet it is to reflect upon the great
and wonderous works which Christ hath done, whereby he hath become
“the high priest of our profession,” able to save us! It is pleasant to look
back to Calvary’s hilt and to behold that bleeding form expiring on the tree;
it is sweet, amazingly sweet, to pry with eyes of love between those thick
olives, and hear the groanings of the Man who sweat great drops of blood.
Sinner, if thou askest me how Christ can save thee, I tell thee this — he
can save thee, because he did not save himself; he can save thee, because
he took thy guilt and endured thy punishment. There is no way of salvation
apart from the satisfaction of divine justice. Either the sinner must die, or
else some one must die for him. Sinner, Christ can save thee, because, if
thou comest to God by him, then he died for thee. God has a debt against
us, and he never remits that debt; he will have it paid. Christ pays it, and
then the poor sinner goes free.
And we are told another reason why he is able to save: not only because he
died, but because he lives to make intercession for us. That Man who once
died on the cross is alive; that Jesus who was buried in the tomb is alive. If
you ask me what he is doing, I bid you listen. Listen, if you have ears! Did
you not hear him, poor penitent sinner? Did you not hear his voice, sweeter
than harpers playing on their harps? Did you not hear a charming voice?
Listen! what did it say? “O my Father! forgive!” Why, he mentioned your
own name! “O my Father, forgive him; he knew not what he did. It is true
he sinned against light, and knowledge, and warnings; sinned wilfully and
woefully; but, Father, forgive him!” Penitent, if thou canst listen, thou wilt
hear him praying for thee. And that is why he is able to save.
A warning and a question, and I have done. First, a warning. Remember,
there is a limit to God’s mercy. I have told you from the Scriptures, that
“he is able to save to the uttermost;” but there is a limit to his purpose to
save. If I read the Bible rightly, there is one sin which can never be
forgiven. It is the sin against the Holy Ghost. Tremble, unpardoned sinners,
lest ye should commit that. If I may tell you what I think the sin against the
Holy Ghost is, I must say that I believe it can be different in different
people; but in many persons, the sin against the Holy Ghost consists in
stifling their convictions. Tremble, my hearers, lest to-night’s sermon
should be the last you hear. Go away and scorn the preacher, if you like;
but do not neglect his warning. Perhaps the very next time thou laughest
over a sermon, or mockest at a prayer, or despisest a text, the very next
oath thou swearest God may say, “He is given to idols, let him alone, my
Spirit shall no more strive with that man; I will never speak to him again.”
That is the warning.
And now, lastly, the question. Christ has done so much for you: what have
you ever done for him? Ah! poor sinner, if thou knewest that Christ died
for thee — and I know that he did, if thou repentest — if thou knewest
that one day thou wilt be his, wouldst thou spit upon him now? wouldst
thou scoff at God’s day, it thou knewest that one day it will be thy day?
wouldst thou despise Christ, if thou knewest that he loves thee now, and
will display that love by-and-bye? Oh I there are some of you that will
loathe yourselves when you know Christ because you did not treat him
better. He will come to you one of these bright mornings, and he will say,
“Poor sinner, I forgive you,” and you will look up in his face, and say,
“What! Lord, forgive me? I used to curse thee, I laughed at thy people, I
despised every thing that had to do with religion. Forgive me?” “Yes,” says
Christ, “give me thy hand; I loved thee when thou hatedst me: come here!”
And sure there is nothing will break a heart half so much as thinking of the
way in which you sinned against one who loved you so much.
Oh! beloved, hear again the text, — “He is able also to save to the
uttermost them that come unto God by him.” I am no orator I have no
eloquence, but if I were the one, and had the other, I would preach to you
with all my soul. As it is, I only talk right on, and tell you what I do know;
I can only say again,
“He is able
He is willing: doubt no more.
Come, ye thirsty, come and welcome,
God’s free bounty glorify:
True belief and true repentance
Every grace that brings us nigh —
Without money
Come to Jesus Christ, and buy.”
For he is able also to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by
him.” O Lord! make sinners come! Spirit of God! make them come!
Compel them to come to Christ by sweet constraint, and let not our words
be in vain, or our labor lost; for Jesus Christ’s sake! Amen.
AMEN STEPHEN WELL SAID INDEED 
