“Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me
more than these? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I
love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my lambs. He saith to him again
the second time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? He saith
unto him, Yea, Lord thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto
him, Feed my sheep. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son
of Jonas, Lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto
him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord,
thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith
unto him, Feed my sheep.” John 21:15-17
How very much like to Christ before his crucifixion was Christ after his
resurrection! Although he had lain in the grave, and descended into the
regions of the dead, and had retraced his steps to the land of the living, yet
how marvellously similar he was in his manners and how unchanged in his
disposition. His passion his death, and his resurrection, could not alter his
character as a man any more than they could affect his attributes as God.
He is Jesus for ever the same. And when he appeared again to his disciples,
he had cast aside none of his kind manners, he had not lost a particle of
interest in their welfare; he addressed them just as tenderly as before, and
called them his children and his friends. Concerning their temporal
condition he was mindful, for he said, “Children, have ye any meat?” And
he was certainly quite as watchful over their spiritual state for after he had
supplied their bodies by a rich draught from the sea, with fish (which
possibly he had created for the occasion), he enquires after their souls’
health and prosperity, beginning with the one who might be supposed to
have been in the most sickly condition, the one who had denied his Master
thrice, and wept bitterly — even Simon Peter. “Simon, son of Jonas,” said
Jesus, “lovest thou me?”
Without preface, for we shall have but little time this morning — may God
help us to make good use of it! — we shall mention three things: first a
solemn question — “Lovest thou me?” secondly, a discreet answer, “Yes,
Lord, thou knowest that I love thee,” and thirdly, a required
demonstration of the fact, “He saith unto him, Feed my lambs;” or, again,
“Feed my sheep.”
I. First, then, here was a SOLEMN QUESTION, which our Savior put to
Peter, not for his own information, for, as Peter said, “Thou knowest that I
love thee,” but for Peter’s examination. It is well, especially after a foul sin,
that the Christian should well probe the wound. It is right that he should
examine himself; for sin gives grave cause for suspicion, and it would be
wrong for a Christian to live an hour with a suspicion concerning his
spiritual estate, unless he occupy that hour in examination of himself. Self examination
should more especially follow sin, though it ought to be the
daily habit of every Christian, and should be practiced by him perpetually.
Our Savior, I say, asked this question of Peter, that he might ask it of
himself; so we may suppose it asked of us this morning that we may put It
to our own hearts. Let each one ask himself then in his Saviour’s name, for
his own profit, “Lovest thou the Lord? Lovest thou the Savior? Lovest
thou the ever-blessed Redeemer?”
Note what this question was. It was a question concerning Peter’s love.
He did not say, “Simon, son of Jonas, fearest thou me.” He did not say,
“Dost thou admire me? Dost thou adore me?” Nor was it even a question
concerning his faith. He did not say, “Simon, son of Jonas, believest thou in
me?” but he asked him another question, “Lovest thou me?” I take it, that
is because love is the very best evidence of piety. Love is the brightest of
all the graces; and hence it becomes the best evidence. I do not believe love
to be superior to faith, I believe faith to be the groundwork of our
salvation. I think faith to be the mother grace, and love springs from it,
faith I believe to be the root grace, and love grows from it. But then, faith
is not an evidence for brightness equal to love. Faith, if we have it, is a sure
and certain sign that we are God’s children, and so is every other grace a
sure and certain one, but many of them cannot be seen by others. Love is a
more sparkling one than any other. If I have a true fear of God in my heart,
then am I God’s child; but since fear is a grace that is more dim and hath
not that halo of glory over it that love has, love becomes one of the very
best evidences and one of the easiest signs of discerning whether we are
alive to the Savior. He that lacketh love, must lack also every other grace
in the proportion in which he lacketh love. If love be little, I believe it is a
sign that faith is little, for he that believeth much loveth much. If love be
little, fear will be little, and courage for God will be little, and whatsoever
graces there be, though faith lieth at the root of them all, yet do they so
sweetly hang on love, that if love be weak, all the rest of the graces most
assuredly will be so. Our Lord asked Peter, then, that question, Lovest
thou me?”
And note, again, that he did not ask Peter anything about his doings. He
did not say, “Simon Peter, how much hast thou wept? How often hast thou
done penance on account of thy great sin? How often hast thou on thy
knees sought mercy at my hand for the slight thou hast done to me and for
that terrible cursing and swearing wherewith thou didst disown thy Lord,
whom thou hadst declared thou wouldst follow even to prison and to
death?” No. it was not in reference to his works, but in reference to the
state of his heart that Jesus said, “Lovest thou me?” To teach us this; that
though works do follow after a sincere love, yet love excellent the works,
and works without love are not evidences worth having. We may have
some tears; but they are not the tears that God shall accept, if there be no
love to him. We may have some works; but they are not acceptable works,
if they are not done out of love to his person. We may perform very many
of the outward, ritual observances of religion; but unless love lieth at the
bottom, all these things are vein and useless. The question, then, “Lovest
thou me?” is a very vital question; far more so than one that merely
concerns the outward conduct. It is a question that goes into the very
heart, and in such a way that it brings the whole heart to one question; for
if love be wrong, everything else is wrong. “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest
thou me?”
Ah! dear beloved, we have very much cause for asking ourselves this
question. If our Savior were no more than a man like ourselves, he might
often doubt whether we love him at all. Let me just remind you of sundry
things which give us very great cause to ask this question: “Lovest thou
me?” I will deal only with the last week. Come, my Christian brother, look
at thine own conduct. Do not thy sins make thee doubt whether thou dost
love thy Master? Come, look over the sins of this week: when thou west
speaking with an angry word and with a sullen look, might not thy Lord
have touched thee, and said, “Lovest thou me?”, When thou west doing
such-and-such a thing, which thou right well knowest in thy conscience
was not according to his precept, might he not have said, “Lovest thou
me?” Canst thou not remember the murmuring word because something
had gone wrong with thee in business this week, and thou west speaking ill
of the God of providence for it? Oh, might not the loving Savior, with pity
in his languid eye, have said to thee, “What, speak thus? Lovest thou me”,
I need not stop to mention the various sins of which ye have been guilty.
Ye have sinned, I am sure, enough to give good ground for self-suspicion,
if ye did not still hang on this: that his love to you, not your love to him, is
the seal of your discipleship Oh, do you not think within yourselves, “If I
had loved him more, should I have sinned so much? And oh, can I love him
when I have broken so many of his commandments Have I reflected his
glorious image to the world as I should have done? Have I not wasted
many hours within this week that I might have spent in winning souls to
him? Have I not thrown away many precious moments in light and
frivolous conversation which I might have spent in earnest prayer? Oh!
how many words have I uttered, which if they have not been filthy, (as I
trust they have not) yet have not been such as have ministered grace to the
hearers? Oh, how many follies have I indulged in? How many sins have I
winked at? How many crimes have I covered over? How have I made my
Saviour’s heart to bleed? How have I done dishonor to his cause? How
have I in some degree disgraced my heart’s profession of love to him?” Oh,
ask these questions of thyself, beloved, and say, “Is this thy kindness to thy
Friend?”
But I hope this week has been one wherein thou hast sinned little openly as
to the world, or even in thine own estimation, as to open acts of crime. But
now let me put another question to thee, Does not thy worldliness make
thee doubt? How hast thou been occupied with the world, from Monday
morning to the last hour of Saturday night? Thou hast scarce had time to
think of him. What corners hast thou pushed thy Jesus into, to make room
for thy bales of goods? How hast thou stowed him away into one short five
minutes, to make room for thy ledger or thy day-book? How little time
hast thou given to him! Thou hast been occupied with the shop, with the
exchange, and the farmyard; and thou hast had little time to commune with
him! Come, just think! remember any one day this week; canst thou say
that thy soul always flew upward with passionate desires to him? Didst
thou pant like a hart for thy Savior during the week. Nay, perhaps there
was a whole day went by, and thou scarcely though test of him till the
winding up of it; and then thou couldst only upbraid thyself, “How have I
forgotten Christ to-day? I have not beheld his person, I have not walked
with him, I have not done as Enoch did! I knew he would come into the
shop with me; I knew he is such a blessed Christ that he would stand
behind the counter with me; I knew he was such a joyous Lord Jesus that
he would walk through the market with me! but I left him at home, and
forgot him all the day long.” Surely, surely, beloved, when thou
rememberest thy worldliness, thou must say of thyself; “O Lord, thou
mightest well ask, “Lovest thou me?’”
Consider again, I beseech thee, how cold thou hast been this week at the
mercy-seat. Thou hast been there, for thou canst not live without it; thou
hast lifted up thy heart in prayer, for thou art a Christian, and prayer is as
necessary to thee as thy breath. But oh! with what a poor asthmatic breath
hast thou lived this week! How little hast thou breathed? Dost not
remember how hurried was thy prayer on Monday morning, how driven
thou wast on Tuesday night? Canst thou not recollect how languid was thy
heart, when on another occasion thou west on thy knees? Thou hast had
little wrestling, mayhap, this week; little agonising; them hast had little of
the prayer which prevaileth; thou hast scarcely laid hold of the horns of the
altar; thou hast stood in the distance, and seen the smoke at the altar, but
thou hast not laid hold of the horns of it. Come, ask thyself, do not thy
prayers make thee doubt? I say, honestly before you all, my own prayers
often make me doubt, and I know nothing that gives me more grave cause
of disquietude. When I labor to pray — oh! that rascally devil! — fifty
thousand thoughts he tries to inject, to take me off from prayer; and when I
will and must pray, oh, what an absence there is of that burning fervent
desire; and when I would come right close to God, when I would weep my
very eyes out in penitence, and would believe and take the blessing, oh,
what little faith and what little penitence there is! Verily, I have thought
that prayer has made me more unbelieving than anything else. I could
believe over the tops of my sins, but sometimes I can scarcely believe over
the tops of my prayers — for oh! how cold is prayer when it is cold! Of all
things that are bad when cold, I think prayer is the worst, for it becomes
like a very mockery, and instead of warming the heart, it makes it colder
than it was before, and seems even to damp its life and spirit- and fills it full
of doubts whether it is really a heir of heaven and accepted of Christ. Oh!
look at thy cold prayers, christian, and say is not thy Savior right to ask
this question very solemnly, “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
But stop, again; just one more word for thee to reflect upon. Perhaps thou
hast had much prayer, and this has been a time of refreshing from the
presence of the Lord. But yet, mayhap, thou knowest, thou hast not gone
so far this week as thou mightest have done, in another exercise of
godliness that is even better than prayer, — I mean communion and
fellowship. Oh I beloved, thou hast this week had but little sitting under the
apple tree, and finding its shadow great delight to thee. Thou hast not gone
much this week to the banqueting house, and had its banner of love over
thee. Come, bethink thyself, how little hast thou seen thy Lord this week!
Perhaps he has been absent the greater part of the time; and hast thou not
groaned? hast thou not wept? hast thou not sighed after him? Sure, then,
thou canst not have loved him as thou shouldst, else thou couldst not have
borne his absence, thou couldst not have endured it calmly, if thou hadst
the affection for him a sanctified spirit has for its Lord. Thou didst hare one
sweet visit from him in the week, and why didst thou let him go? Why didst
thou not constrain him to abide with thee? Why didst thou not lay hold of
the skirts of his garment, and say, “Why shouldst thou be like a wayfaring
man, and as one that turneth aside, and tarrieth for a night? Oh I my lord,
thou shalt dwell with me. I will keep thee. I will detain thee in my
company. I cannot let thee go. I love thee, and I will constrain thee to
dwell with me this night and the next day. Iong as I can keep thee, will I
keep thee.” But no; thou west foolish; thou didst let him go. Oh! soul, why
didst thou not lay hold of his arm, and say, “I will not let thee go.” But
thou didst lay hold on him so feebly, thou didst suffer him to depart so
quickly, he might have turned round, and said to thee, as he said to Slmon,
“Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
Now, I have asked you all these questions, because I have been asking
them of myself. I feel that I must answer to nearly every one of them,
“Lord, there is great cause for me to ask myself that question,” and I think
that most of you, if you are honest to yourselves, will say the same. I do
not approve of the man that says, “I know I love Christ, and I never have a
doubt about it;” because we often have reason to doubt ourselves, a
believer’s strong faith is not a strong faith in his own love to Christ — it is
a strong faith in Christ’s love to him. There is no faith which always
believes that it loves Christ. Strong faith has its conflicts, and a true
believer will often wrestle in the very teeth of his own feelings. Lord, if I
never did love thee, nevertheless, if I am not a saint, I am a sinner Lord, I
still believe; help thou mine unbelief. The disciple can believe, when he
feels no love; for he can believe that Christ loveth the soul; and when he
hath no evidence he can come to Christ without evidence, and lay hold of
him, just as he is, with naked faith, and still hold fast by him. Though he
see not his signs, though he walk in darkness and there be no light, still
may he trust in the Lord, and stay upon his God; — but to be certain at all
times that we love the Lord is quite another matter; about this we have
need continually to question ourselves, and most scrupulously to examine
both the nature and the extent of our evidences.
II. And now I come to the second thing, which is A DISCREET ANSWER.
“Simon son of Jonas, lovest thou me?” Simon gave a very good answer.
Jesus asked him, in the first place, whether he loved him better than others.
Simon would not say that: he had once been a little proud — more than a
little — and thought he was better than the other disciples. But this time he
evaded that question, he would not say that he loved better than others.
And I am sure there is no loving heart that will think it loves even better
than the least of God’s children. I believe the higher a man is in grace, the
lower he will be in his own esteem, and he will be the last person to claim
any supremacy over others in the divine grace of love to Jesus. But mark
how Simon Peter did answer: he did not answer as to the quantity but as to
the quality of his love. He would aver that he loved Christ, but not that he
loved Christ better than others. “Lord, I cannot say how much I love thee;
but thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I do love thee. So far I can
aver: as to the quantity of my love, I cannot say much about it.”
But just notice, again, the discreet manner in which Peter answered. Some
of us, if we had been asked that question, would have answered foolishly.
We should have said, “Lord, I have preached for thee so many times this
week; Lord, I have distributed of my substance to the poor this week.
Blessed be thy name, thou last given me grace to walk humbly, faithfully,
and honestly, and therefore, Lord, I think I can say, ‘I love thee.’” We
should have brought forward our good works before our Master, as being
the evidences of our love; we should have said, “Lord, thou hast seen me
during this week, as Nehemiah did of old, “Forget not my good works. O
Lord, I thank thee. I know they are thy gifts, but I think they are proofs of
my love.” That would have been a very good answer if we had been
questioned by our fellow man, and he had said, “You do not always love
your Savior;” but it would be foolish for us to tell the Master that. Peter’s
answer was wise; “Lord, thou knowest that I love thee.” You know the
Master might have said to Peter, had he appealed to his works, “Yes thou
mayest preach, and yet not love me; thou mayest pray, after a fashion, and
jet not love me; thou mayest do all these works and yet have no love to
me. I did not ask thee what are the evidences of thy love I asked thee the
feet of it.” Very likely all my dear friends here would not have answered in
the fashion I have supposed; but they would have said, “Love thee Lord?
Why, my heart is all on fire towards thee; I feel as if I could go to prison
end to death for thee! Sometimes, when I think of thee, my heart is
ravished with bliss; and when thou art absent, O Lord, I moan and cry like
a dove that has lost its mate. Yes, I feel I love thee, O my Christ.” But that
would have been very foolish, because although we may often rejoice in
our own feelings — they are joyful things — it would not do to plead them
with our Lord, for he might answer, “Ah! thou feelest joyful at the mention
of my name. So. no doubt, has many a deluded one, because he had a
fictitious faith, and a fancied hope in Christ; therefore the name of Christ
seemed to gladden him. Thou sayst, ‘I have felt dull when thou hast been
absent.’ That might have been accounted for from natural circumstances;
you had a headache, perhaps, or some other ailment. ‘But,’ sayest thou, ‘I
felt so happy when he was present that I thought I could die.’ Ah! in such
manner Peter had spoken many a time before; but a sorry mess he made of
it when he trusted his feelings, for he would have sunk into the sea but for
Christ; and eternally damned his soul, if it had not been for his grace, when,
with cursing and swearing he thrice denied his Lord. But no, Peter was
wise; he did not bring forward his frames and feelings, nor did he bring his
evidences: though they are good in themselves, he did not bring them
before Christ. But, as though he shall say, “Lord, I appeal to thine
omnipotence. I am not going to tell thee that the volume of my heart must
contain such-and-such matter, because there is such-and-such a mark on its
cover; for, Lord, thou canst read inside of it; and, therefore I need not tell
thee what the title is, nor read over to thee the index of the content; Lord,
thou knowest that I love thee.”
Now, could we, this morning, dear friends, give such an answer as that to
the question? If Christ should come here, if he were now to walk down
these aisles, and along the pews, could we appeal to his own divine
Omniscience, his infallible knowledge of our hearts, that we all love him?
There is a test-point between a hypocrite and a real Christian. If thou art a
hypocrite, thou mightest say, “Lord, my minister knows that I love thee.
Lord, the deacons know that I love thee; they think I do, for they have
given me a ticket, the members think I love thee; for they see me sitting at
thy table; my friends think I love thee, for they often hear me talk about
thee.” But thou couldst not say, “Lord, thou knowest that I love thee;”
thine own heart is witness that thy secret works belie thy confession, for
thou art without prayer in secret, and thou canst preach a twenty minutes’
prayer in public. Thou art niggardly and parsimonious in giving to the
cause of Christ; but thou canst sport thy name to be seen. Thou art an
angry, petulant creature; but when thou comest to the house of God, thou
hast a pious whine, and talkest like a canting hypocrite, as if thou were a
very gentlemanly man, and never seemed angry. Thou canst take thy
Maker’s name in vain, but if thou hear another do it thou wouldst be
mighty severe upon him. Thou affectest to be very pious, and yet if men
knew of that widow’s house that is sticking in thy throat, and of that
orphan’s patrimony which thou hast taken from him, thou wouldst leave
off trumpeting thy good deeds. Thine own heart tells thee thou art a liar
before God. But thou, O sincere Christian, thou canst welcome thy Lord’s
question, and answer it with holy fear and gracious confidence. Yes, thou
mayest welcome the question. Such a question was never put to Judas. The
Lord loved Peter so much that he was jealous over him, or he never would
have thus challenged his attachment. And in this kind cloth he often appeal
to the affections of those whom he dearly loves. The response likewise is
recorded for thee, “Lord, thou knowest all things.” Canst thou not look up,
though scorned by men, though even rejected by thy minister, though kept
back by the deacons, and looked upon with disesteem by some — canst
thou not look up, and say, “Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest
that I love thee?” Do it not in brag and bravado; but if you can do it
sincerely, be happy, bless God that he has given you a sincere love to the
Savior, and ask him to increase it from a spark to a flame, and from a grain
to a mountain. “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Yea, Lord, thou
knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. “
III. And now here is a DEMONSTRATION REQUIRED — “Feed my lambs:
feed my sheep.” That was Peter’s demonstration. It is not necessary that it
should be our way of showing our love. There are different ways for
different disciples. There are some who are not qualified to feed lambs, for
they are only little lambs themselves. There are some that could not feed
sheep, for they cannot at present see afar off; they are weak in the faith,
and not qualified to teach at all. They have other means, however, of
showing their love to the Savior. Let us offer a few words upon this
matter.
“Lovest thou me?” Then one of the best evidences thou canst give is to
feed my lambs. Have I two or three little children that love and fear my
name? If thou wantest to do a deed, which shall show that thou art a true
lover, and not a proud pretender; go and feed them. Are there a few little
ones whom I have purchased with my blood in an infant class? Dost thou
went to do something which shall evidence that thou art indeed mine? Then
sit not down with the elders, dispute not in the temple; I did that myself;
but go thou, and sit down with the young orphans, and teach them the way
to the kingdom. “Feed my lambs.” Dearly beloved, I have been of late
perplexing myself with one thought: that our church-government is not
scriptural. It is scriptural as far as it goes; but it is not according to the
whole of Scripture; neither do we practice many excellent things that ought
to be practiced in our churches. We have received into our midst a large
number of young persons; in the ancient churches there was what was
called the catechism class — I believe there ought to be such a class now.
The Sabbath-school, I believe, is in the Scripture; and I think there ought
to be on the Sabbath afternoon, a class of the young people of this church,
who are members already, to be taught by some of the elder members.
Now-a-days, when we get the lambs, we just turn them adrift in the
meadow, and there we leave them. There are more than a hundred young
people in this church who positively, though they are members, ought not
to be left alone; but some of our elders, if we have elders, and some who
ought to be ordained elders, should make it their business to teach them
further, to instruct them in the faith, and so keep them hard and fast by the
truth of Jesus Christ. If we had elders, as they had in all the apostolic
churches, this might in some degree be attended to. But now the hands of
our deacons are full, they do much of the work of the eldership, but they
cannot do any more than they are doing, for they are toiling hard already. I
would that some here whom God has gifted, and who have time, would
spend their afternoons in taking a class of those who live around them, of
their younger brethren, asking them to their houses for prayer and pious
instruction, that so the lambs of the flock may be fed. By God’s help I will
take care of the sheep; I will endeavor under God to feed them, as well as I
can, and preach the gospel to them. Yon that are older in the faith and
stronger in it, need not that careful cautious feeding which is required by
the lambs. But there are many in our midst, good pious souls who love the
Savior as much as the sheep do; but one of their complaints which I have
often heard is, “Oh! sir, I joined your church, I thought they would be all
brothers and sisters to me, and that I could speak to them, and they would
teach me and be kind to me. Oh I sir, I came, and nobody spoke to me.” I
say, “Why did not you speak to them first?” “Oh!” they reply, “I did not
like.” Well, they should have liked, I am well aware; but if we had some
means of feeding the lambs, it would be a good way of proving to our
Savior and to the world, that we really do endeavor to follow him. I hope
some of my friends will take that hint; and if, in concert with me, my
brethren in office will endeavor to do something in that way, I think it will
be no mean proof of their love to Christ. “Feed my lambs,” is a great duty;
let us try to practice it as we are able.
But, beloved, we cannot all do that; the lambs cannot feed the lambs; the
sheep cannot feed the sheep exactly. There must be some appointed to
these offices. And therefore, in the Saviour’s name, allow me to say to
some of you, that there are different kinds of proof you must give. “Simon
son of Jonas, lovest thou me? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord; thou knowest
that I love thee.” Then preserve that prayer-meeting; attend to it; see that it
is kept going on, and that it does not fall to the ground. “Simon son of
Jonas lovest thou me?” See to thy servants; see that they go to the house
of God, and instruct them in the faith. There is a sister: Lovest thou Christ?
“Yea, Lord.” Perhaps it is as much as you can do — perhaps it is as much
as you ought to do — to train up your children in the fear of the Lord. It is
of no use to trouble yourselves about duties that God never meant you to
do, and leave your own vineyard at home to itself. Just take care of your
own children; perhaps that is as good a proof as Christ wants of you that
you are feeding his lambs. You have your own office, to which Christ has
appointed you: seek not to run away from it, but endeavor to do what you
can to serve your Master therein. But, I beseech you, do something to
prove your love; do not be sitting down doing nothing. Do not be folding
your hands and arms, for such people perplex a minister most, and bring
the most ruin on a church — such as do nothing. You are always the
readiest to find fault. I have marked it here, that the very people who are
quarrelling with everything are the people that are doing nothing, or are
good for nothing. They are sure to quarrel with everything else, because
they are doing nothing themselves; and therefore they have time to find
fault with other people. Do not O Christian, say that thou lovest Christ,
and yet do nothing for him. Doing is a good sign of living; and he can
scarce be alive unto God that does nothing for God. We must let our
works evidence the sincerity of our love to our Master. “Oh!” say you,
“but we are doing a little.” Can you do any more? If you can, then do it. If
you cannot do more, then God requires no more of you; doing to the
utmost of your ability is your best proof; but if you can do more, inasmuch
as ye keep back any part of what ye can do, in that degree ye give cause to
yourselves to distrust your love to Christ. Do all you canto your very
utmost; serve him abundantly; ay, and superabundantly: seek to magnify his
name; and if ever you do too much for Christ, come and tell me of it; if you
ever do too much for Christ, tell the angels of it — but you will never do
that. He gave himself for you; give yourselves to him.
You see, my friends, how I have been directing you to search your own
hearts, and I am almost afraid that some of you will mistake my intention.
Have I a poor soul here who really deplores the langour of her affections?
Perhaps you have determined to ask yourself as many questions as you can
with a view of reviving the languid sparks of love. Let me tell you then that
the pure flame of love must be always nourished where it was first kindled.
When I admonished you to look to yourself it was only to detect the evil;
would you find the remedy, you must direct your eyes, not to your own
heart, but to the blessed heart of Jesus — to the Beloved one — to my
gracious Lord and Master. And wouldst thou be ever conscious of the
sweet swellings up of thy heart towards him; thou canst only prove this by
a constant sense of his tender love to thee. I rejoice to know that the Holy
Ghost is the Spirit of love, and the ministry of the Spirit is endeared to me
in nothing so much as this, that he takes of the things of Jesus, and shows
them to me, spreading abroad the Saviour’s love in my heart, until it
constrains all my passions, awakens the tenderest of all tender emotions,
reveals my union to him, and occasions my strong desire to serve him. Let
not love appear to thee as a stern duty, or an arduous effort; rather look to
Jesus, yield thyself up to his gracious charms till thou art ravished with his
beauty and preciousness. But ah! if thou art slack in the proofs thou givest,
I shall know thou art not walking with him in holy communion.
And allow me to suggest one profitable way of improving the ordinance of
the Lord’s Supper. That is: while you are partaking of it, my friends, renew
your dedication to Christ. Seek this morning to give yourselves over afresh
to your Master. Say with your hearts, what I shall now say with my lips:
“Oh! my precious Lord Jesus, I do love thee; thou knowest I have in some
degree given myself to thee up to this time, thanks to thy grace! Blessed be
thy name, that thou hast accepted the deeds of so unworthy a servant. O
Lord, I am conscious that I have not devoted myself to thee as I ought; I
know that in many things I have come short. I will make no resolution to
live better to thine honor, but I will offer the prayer that thou wouldst help
me so to do. Oh! Lord, I give to thee my health, my life, my talents, my
power, and all I have! Thou hast bought me, and bought me wholly: then,
Lord, take me this morning, baptize me in the Spirit, let me now feel an
entire affection to thy blessed person. May I have that love which conquers
sin and purifies the soul — that love which can dare danger and encounter
difficulties for thy sake. May I henceforth and for ever be a cons crated
vessel of mercy, having been chosen of thee from before the foundation of
the world! Help me to hold fast that solemn choice of thy service which I
desire this morning, by thy grace to renew.” And when you drink the blood
of Christ, and eat his flesh spiritually — in the type and in the emblem, then
I beseech you, let the solemn recollection of his agony and suffering for
you inspire you with a greater love, that you may be more devoted to his
service than ever. If that be done, I shall have the best of churches; if that
be done by us, the Holy Spirit helping us to carry it out, we shall all be
good men and true, holding fast by him, and we shall not need to be
ashamed in the awful day.
As for you that have never given yourselves to Christ, I dare not tell you to
renew a you which you have never made; nor dare I ask you to make a
vow, which you would never keep. I can only pray for you, that God the
Savior would be pleased to reveal himself unto your heart, that “a sense of
blood-bought pardon” may “dissolve your hearts of stone ;” that you may
be brought to give yourselves to him, knowing that if you have done that,
you have the best proof that he has given himself for you. May God
Almighty bless you: those of you who depart, may he dismiss with his
blessing: and those who remain, may you receive his favor, for Christ’s
sake. Amen.