CHARLES SPURGEON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND THE ONE CHURCH
“These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit.”
Jude 1:19
WHEN a farmer comes to thrash out his wheat, and get it ready for the
market there are two things that he desires — that there may be plenty of
it, of the right sort, and that when he takes it to market, he may be able to
carry a clean sample there. He does not look upon the quantity alone; for
what is the chaff to the wheat ? He would rather have a little clean than he
would have a great heap containing a vast quantity of chaff, but less of the
precious corn. On the other hand, he would not so winnow his wheat as to
drive away any of the good grain, and so make the quantity less than it
need to be. He wants to have as much as possible — to have as little loss
as possible in the winnowing, and yet to have it as well winnowed as may
be. Now, that is what I desire for Christ’s Church, and what every
Christian will desire. We wish Christ’s church to be as large as possible.
God forbid that by any of our winnowing, we should ever cast away one of
the precious sons of Zion. When we rebuke sharply, we would be anxious
lest the rebuke should fall where it is not needed, and should bruise and
hurt the feelings of any who God hath chosen. But on the other hand, we
have no wish to see the church multiplied at the expense of its purity. We
do not wish to have a charity so large that it takes in chaff as well as
wheat: we wish to be just charitable enough to use the fan thoroughly to
purge God’s floor, but yet charitable enough to pick up the most shrivelled
ear of wheat, to preserve it for the Master’s sake, who is the husbandman.
I trust, in preaching this morning, God may help me so to discern between
the precious and the vile that I may say nothing uncharitable, which would
cut off any of God’s people from being part of his true and living and
visible church; and yet at the same time I pray that I may not speak so
loosely, and so without God’s direction, as to embrace any in the arms of
Christian affection whom the Lord hath not received in the eternal
covenant of his love.
Our text suggests to us three things: first, an inquiry — Have we the
Spirit? secondly, a caution — if we have not the spirit we are sensual;
thirdly, a suspicion — there are many persons that separate themselves.
Our suspicion concerning them is, that notwithstanding their extrasuperfine
profession, they are sensual, not having the Spirit; for our text
says, “These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the
Spirit.”
I. First, then, our text suggests AN INQUIRY — Have we the Spirit? This is
an inquiry so important, that the philosopher may well suspend all his
investigations to find an answer to this question on his own personal
account. All the great debates of politics, all the most engrossing subjects
of human discussion, may well stop to-day, and give us pause to ask
ourselves the solemn question — “Have I the Spirit?” For this question
does not deal with any externals of religion, but it deals with religion in its
most vital point. He that hath the Spirit, although he be wrong in fifty
things, being right in this, is saved; he that hath not the Spirit, be he never
so orthodox, be his creed as correct as Scripture- ay and in his morals
outwardly as pure as the law, is still unsaved; he is destitute of the essential
part of salvation — the Spirit of God dwelling in him.
To help us to answer this question, I shall try to set forth the effects of the
Spirit in our hearts under sundry Scriptural metaphors. Have I the Spirit? I
reply, And what is the operation of the, Spirit? How am I to discern it?
Now the Spirit operates in divers ways, all of them mysterious, and
supernatural, all of them bearing the real marks of his own power, and
having certain signs following whereby they may be discovered and
recognised.
1. The first work of the Spirit in the heart is a work during which the Spirit
is compared to the wind. You remember that when our Savior spoke to
Nicodemus he represented the first work of the Spirit in the heart as being
like the wind, “which bloweth where it listeth ;” “even so;” saith he, “is
every one that is born of the Spirit.” Now you know that the wind is a
most mysterious thing; and although there be certain definitions of it which
pretend to be explanations of the phenomenon, yet they certainly leave the
great question of how the wind blows, and what is the cause of its blowing
in a certain direction, where it was before. Breath within us, wind without
us, all motions of air, are to us mysterious. And the renewing work of the
Spirit in the heart is exceedingly mysterious. It is possible that at this
moment the Spirit of God may be breathing into some of the thousand
hearts before me; yet it would be blasphemous if any one should ask,
“Which way went the Spirit from God to such a heart? How entered it
there?” And it would be foolish for a person who is under the operation of
the Spirit to ask how it operates: thou knowest not where is the storehouse
of the thunder; thou knowest not where the clouds are balanced; neither
canst thou know how the Spirit goeth forth from the Most High and enters
into the heart of man. It may be, that during a sermon two men are
listening to the same truth; one of them hears as attentively as the other and
remembers as much of it; the other is melted to tears or moved with
solemn thoughts; but the one though equally attentive, sees nothing in the
sermon, except, maybe, certain important truths well set forth; as for the
other, his heart is broken within him and his soul is melted. Ask me how it
is that the same truth has an effect upon the one, and not upon his fellow: I
reply, because the mysterious Spirit of the living God goes with the truth to
one heart and not to the other. The one only feels the force of truth, and
that may be strong enough to make him tremble, like Felix; but the other
feels the Spirit going with the truth, and that renews the man, regenerates
him, and causes him to pass into that gracious condition which is called the
state of salvation. This change takes place instantaneously. It is as
miraculous a change as any miracle of which we read in Scripture. It is
supremely supernatural. It may be mimicked, but no imitation of it can be
true and real. Men may pretend to be regenerated without the Spirit, but
regenerated they cannot be. It is a change so marvellous that the highest
attempts of man can never reach it. We may reason as long as we please,
but we cannot reason ourselves into regeneration; we may meditate till our
hairs are grey with study; but we cannot meditate ourselves into the new
birth. That is worked in us by the sovereign will of God alone.
“The Spirit, like some heavenly wind,
Blows on the sons of flesh,
Inspires us with a heavenly mind,
And forms the man afresh.”
But ask the man how: he cannot tell you. Ask him when: he may recognize
the time, but as to the manner thereof he knoweth no more of it than you
do. It is to him a mystery.
You remember the story of the valley of vision. Ezekiel saw dry bones
lying scattered here and there in the valley. The command came to Ezekiel,
“Say to :these dry bones, live.” He said, “Live,” and the bones came
together, “bone to his bone, and flesh came upon them;” but as yet they did
not live. “Prophesy, son of man; say to the wind, breathe upon these slain,
that they may live.” They looked just like life: there was flesh and blood
there; there were the eyes and hands and feet; but when Ezekiel had spoken
there was a mysterious something given which men call life, and it was
given in a mysterious way, like the blowing of the wind. It is even so today.
Unconverted and ungodly persons may be very, moral and excellent;
they are like the dry bones, when they are put together and clothed with
flesh and blood. But to make them live spiritually it needs the divine
afflatus from the breath of the Almighty, the divine pneuma, the divine
Spirit, the divine wind should blow on them, and then they would live. Say,
my hearer, hast thou ever had any supernatural influence on thine Heart?
For if not I may seem to be harsh with thee, but I am faithful: if thou hast
never had more than nature in thy heart, thou art “in the gall of bitterness
and in the bonds of iniquity.” Nay, sir, sneer not at that utterance; it is as
true as this Bible, for tis from this Bible it was taken, and for proof thereof
hear thou me. “except a man be born again (from above) of water and of
the Spirit, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” What sayest thou to that? It
is in vain for thee to talk of making thyself to be born again; thou canst not
be born again except by the Spirit, and thou must perish, unless thou art.
You see, then, the first effect of the Spirit, and by that you may answer the
question.
2. In the next place, the Spirit in the word of God is often compared to
fire. After the Spirit, like the wind, has made the dead sinner live, then
comes the Spirit like fire. Now, fire has a searching and tormenting power.
It is purifying, but it purifies by a terrible process. Now, after the Holy
Spirit has given us the life of Christianity, there immediately begins a
burning in our heart: the Lord searches and tries our reins, and lights a
candle within our spirits which discovers the wickedness of our nature, and
the loathsomeness of our iniquities. Say, my hearer, dost thou know
anything about that fire in thine heart? For if not, thou hast not yet received
the Spirit. To explain what I mean, let me just tell a piece of my own
experience, by way of illustrating the fiery effects of the Spirit. I lived
careless and thoughtless; I could indulge in sin as well as others, and did do
so. Sometimes my conscience pricked me, but not enough to make me
cease from vice. I could indulge in transgression, and I could love it: not so
much as others loved it — mine early training would not let me do that —
but still enough to prove that my heart was debased and corrupt. Once on a
time something more than conscience pricked me: I knew not then what it
was. I was like Samuel, when the Lord called him; I heard the voice, but I
knew not whence it came. A stirring began in my heart, and I began to feel
that in the sight of God I was a lost, ruined, and condemned sinner. That
conviction I could not shake off. Do what I might it followed me. If I
sought to amuse my mind and take it off from serious thoughts it was of no
use; I was obliged still to carry about with me a heavy burden on my back.
I went to my bed, and there I dreamed about hell, and about “the wrath to
come.” I woke up, and this dreary nightmare, this incubus, still brooded on
me. What could I do? I renounced first one vicious habit, then another: it
mattered not; all this was like pulling one firebrand from a flame, that fed
itself with blazing forests. Do what I might, my conscience found no rest.
Up to the house of God I went to hear the gospel: there was no gospel for
me; the fire burned but the more fiercely, and the very breath of the gospel
seemed to fan the flame. Away I went to my chamber and my closet to
pray: the heavens were like brass, and the windows of the sky were barred
against me. No answer could I get; the fire burned more vehemently. Then
I thought, “I would not live always; would God I had never been born!”
But I dared not die, for there was hell when I was dead; and I dared not
live, for life had become intolerable. Still the fire blazed right vehemently;
till at last I came to this resolve: “If there be salvation in Christ, I will have
it. I have nothing of my own to trust to; I do this hour, O God, renounce
my sin, and renounce my own righteousness too.” And the fire blazed
again, and burned up all my good works, ay, and my sins with them. And
then I saw that all this burning was to bring me to Christ. And oh! the joy
and gladness of my heart, when Jesus came and sprinkled water on the
flame, and said, “I have bought thee with my blood; put thy trust in me; I
will do for thee what thou canst not do for thyself; I will take thy sins
away; I will clothe thee with a spotless robe of righteousness; I will guide
thee all thy journey through, and land thee at last in heaven.” Say, my dear
hearer, Dost know anything about the Spirit of burning? For if not, again I
say, I am not harsh, I am but true; if thou hast never felt this, thou knowest
not the Spirit.
3. To proceed a little further. When the Spirit has thus quickened the soul
and convinced it of sin, then he comes under another metaphor. He comes
under the metaphor of oil. The Holy Spirit is very frequently in Scripture
compared to oil. “Thou anointest mine head with oil; my cup runneth
over.” Ah! brethren, though the beginning of the Spirit is by fire, it does
not end there. We may be first of all convinced and brought to Christ by
misery; but when we get to Christ there is no misery in him, and our
sorrow results from not getting close enough to him. The Holy Spirit
comes, like the good Samaritan, and pours in the oil and the wine. And oh!
what oil it is with which he anoints our head, and with which he heals our
wounds! How soft the liniments which he binds round our bruises! How
blessed the eye-salve with which he anoints our eyes! How heavenly the
ointment with which he binds up our sores, and wounds, and bruises, and
makes us whole, and sets our feet upon a rock, and establishes our goings!
The Spirit, after he has convinced, begins to comfort; and ye that have felt
the comforting power of the Holy Spirit, will bear me witness there is no
comforter like him that is the Paraclete. Oh! bring hither the music, the
voice of song, and the sound of harps; they are both as vinegar upon nitre
to him that hath a heavy heart. Bring me here the enchantments of the
magic world, and all the enjoyments of its pleasures; they do but torment
the soul and prick it with many thorns. But oh! Spirit of the living God,
when thou dost blow upon the heart, there is not a wave of that
tempestuous sea which does not sleep for ever when thou biddest it be still;
there is not one single breath of the proud hurricane and tempest which
doth not cease to howl and which doth not lie still, when thou sayest to it,
“Peace be unto thee; thy sins are forgiven thee.” Say, do you know the
Spirit under the figure of oil? Have you felt him at work in your spirits,
comforting you, anointing your head, making you glad, and causing you to
rejoice?
There are many people that never felt this. They hope they are religious;
but their religion never makes them happy. There are scores of professors
who have just enough religion to make them miserable. Let them be afraid
that they have any religion at all; for religion makes people happy; when it
has its full sway with man it makes him glad. It may begin in agony, but it
does not end there. Say, hast thou ever had thine heart leaping for joy?
Hath thy lip ever warbled songs of ecstatic praise? Doth thine eye ever
flash the fire of joy? If these things be not so, I fear lest thou art still
without God, and without Christ; for where the Spirit comes, his fruits are,
joy in the Spirit, and peace, and love, and confidence, and assurance for
ever.
4. Bear with me once more. I have to show you one more figure of the
Spirit, and by that also you will be able to ascertain whether you are under
his operation. When the Spirit has acted as wind, as fire, and as oil, he then
acts like water. We are told that we are “born again of water and of the
Spirit.” Now I do not think you foolish enough to need that I should say
that no water, either of immersion or of sprinkling, can in the least degree
operate in the salvation of a soul. There may be some few poor creatures,
whose heads were put on their shoulders the wrong way, who still believe
that a few drops of water from a priest’s hands can regenerate souls. There
may be such a few, but I hope the race will soon die out. We trust that the
day will come when all those gentry will have no “other Gospel” to preach
in our churches, but will have clean gone over to Rome, and when that
terrible plague-spot upon the Protestant Church, called Puseyism, will have
been cut out like a cancer, and torn out by its very roots. The sooner we
get rid of that the better; and whenever we hear of any of them going over
to Rome, let them go — I wish we could as easily get rid of the devil, they
may go together — we do not want either of them in the Protestant
Church, anyhow. But the Holy Spirit when he comes in the heart comes
like water. That is to say, he comes to purify the soul. He that is to-day as
foul a liver as he was before his pretended conversion is a hypocrite and a
liar; he that this day loveth sin and liveth in it just as he was wont to do, let
him know that the truth is not in him, but he hath received the strong
delusion to believe a lie: God’s people are a holy people; God’s Spirit
works by love, and purifies the soul. Once let it get into our hearts, and it
will have no rest till it has turned every sin out. God’s Holy Spirit and
man’s sin cannot live together peaceably; they may both be in the same
heart, but they cannot both reign there, nor can they both be quiet there;
for “the Spirit lusteth against the flesh, and the flesh lusteth against the
Spirit;” they cannot rest, but there will be a perpetual warring in the soul,
so that the Christian will have to cry, “O wretched man that I am! who
shall deliver me from the body of this death?” But in due time the Spirit
will drive out all sin, and will present us blameless before the throne of his
Majesty with exceeding great joy.
Now, my hearer, answer thou this question for thyself, and not for another
man. Hast thou received this Spirit? Answer me, anyhow; if it be with a
scoff, answer me; if thou sneerest and sayest, “I know nothing of your
enthusiastic rant,” be it so, sir; say, nay, then. It may be thou carest not to
reply at all. I beseech thee do not put away my entreaty. Yes or no. Hast
thou received the Spirit? “Sir no man can find fault with my character; I
believe I shall enter heaven through my own virtues.” It is not the question,
sir. Hast thou received the Spirit? All that thou sayest thou mayest have
done; but if thou hast left the other undone, and hast not received the
Spirit, it will go ill with thee at last. Hast thou had a supernatural operation
upon thine own heart? Hast thou been made a new man in Christ Jesus!
For if not, depend on it, as God’s Word is true, thou art out of Christ, and
dying as thou art thou wilt be shut out of heaven, be thou who thou mayest
and what thou mayest.
II. Thus, I have tried to help you to answer the first question — the
inquiry, Have we received the Spirit? And this brings me to the CAUTION.
He that has not received the Spirit is said to be sensual. Oh, what a gulf
there is between the least Christian and the greatest moralist! What a wide
distinction there is between the greatest professor destitute of grace, and
the least of God’s believers who has grace in his heart. As great a
difference as there is between light and darkness between death and life,
between heaven and hell, is there between a saint and a sinner; for mark,
my text says, in no very polite phrase, that if we have not the Spirit we are
sensual. “ Sensual!” says one; “well, I am not converted man — I don t
pretend to be; but I am not sensual.” Well, friend, and it is very likely that
you are not — not in the common acceptation of the term sensual; but
understand that this word, in the Greek, really means what an English word
like this would mean, if we had such a one — soulish. We have not such a
word — we want such a one. There is a great distinction between mere
animals and men, because man hath a soul, and the mere animal hath none.
There is another distinction between mere men and a converted man. The
converted man hath the Spirit — the unconverted man hath none; he is a
soulish man — not a spiritual man; he has got no further than mere nature
and has no inheritance in the spiritual kingdom of grace. Strange it is that
soulish and sensual should after all mean the same! Friend, thou hast not
the Spirit. Then thou art nothing better — be thou what thou art, or
whatsoever thou mayest be — than the fall of Adam left thee. That is to
say, thou art a fallen creature, having only capacities to live here in sin, and
to live for ever in torment; but thou hast not the capacity to live in heaven
at all, for thou hast no Spirit; and therefore thou art unable to know or
enjoy spiritual things. And mark you, a man may be in this state, and be a
sensual man, and yet he may have all the virtues that could grace a
Christian; but with all these, if he has not the Spirit, he has got not an inch
further than where Adam’s fall left him — that is, condemned and under
the curse. Ay, and he may attend to religion with all his might — he may
take the sacrament, and be baptized, and may be the most devout
professor; but if he hath not the Spirit he hath not started a solitary inch
from where he was, for he is still in “the bonds of iniquity,” a lost soul.
Nay, further, he may pick up religious phrases till he may talk very fast
about religion; he may read biographies till he seems to be a deep taught
child of God; he may be able to write an article upon the deep experience
of a believer; but if this experience be not his own, if he hath not received it
by the Spirit of the living God, he is still nothing more than a carnal man,
and heaven is to him a place to which there is no entrance. Nay, further, he
might go so far as to become a minister of the gospel, and a successful
minister too, and God may bless the word that he preaches to the salvation
of sinners, but unless he has received the Spirit, be he as eloquent as
Apollos, and as earnest as Paul, he is nothing more than a mere soulish
man, without capacity for spiritual things.
Nay, to crown all, he might even have the power of working miracles, as
Judas had — he might even be received into the church as a believer, as
was Simon Magus, and after all that, though he had cast out devils, though
he had healed the sick, though he had worked miracles, he might have the
gates of heaven shut in his teeth, if he had not received the Spirit. For this
is the essential thing, without which all others are in vain — the reception
of the Spirit of the living God. It is a searching truth, is it not, my friends?
Do not run away from it. If I am preaching to you falsehood, reject it; but
if this be a truth which I can substantiate by Scripture, I beseech you, rest
not till you have answered this question: Hast thou the Spirit, living,
dwelling, working in thy heart?
III. This brings me, in the third place, to THE SUSPICION. How singular
that “separation” should be the opposite of having the Spirit. Hark! I hear a
gentle man saying, “Oh! I like to hear you preach smartly and sharply; I am
persuaded, sir, there are a great many people in the church that ought not
to be there; and so I, because there is such a corrupt mixture in the church,
have determined not to join anywhere at all. I do not think that the Church
of Christ now a days is at all clean and pure enough to allow of my joining
with it. At least, sir, I did join a church once, but I made such a deal of
noise in it they were very glad when I went away. And now I am just like
David’s men; I am one that is in debt and discontented, and I go round to
hear all new preachers that arise. I have heard you now these three months;
I mean to go and hear some one else in a very little time if you do not say
something to flatter me. But I am quite sure I am one of God’s special
elect. I don’t join any church because a church is not good enough for me;
I don’t become a member of any denomination, because they are all wrong,
every one of them.” Hark ye brother, I have something to tell you, that will
not please you. “These be they that separate themselves, sensual, having
not the Spirit.” I hope you enjoy the text: it certainly belongs to you, above
every man in the world. “These be they who separate themselves, sensual,
having not the Spirit.” When I read this over I thought to myself, there be
some who say, “Well, you are a dissenter, how do you make this agreeable
with the text, ‘These be they who separate themselves;’ “ you are separated
from the Church of England. Ah, my friends, that a man may be, and be all
the better for it; but the separation here intended is separation from the one
universal Church of Christ. The Church of England was not known in
Jude’s day: so the apostle did not allude to that. “These be they who
separate themselves,” — that is from the Church of Christ; from the great
universal body of the elect. Moreover, let us just say one thing. We did not
separate ourselves — we were turned out. Dissenters did not separate
themselves from the Church of England, from the Episcopal church; but
when the Act of Uniformity was passed, they were turned out of their
pulpits. Our forefathers were as sound Churchmen as any in the world, but
they could not take in all the errors of the Prayer Book, and they were
therefore hounded to their graves by the intolerance of the conforming
professors. So they did not separate themselves. Moreover, we do not
separate ourselves. There is not a Christian beneath the scope of God’s
heaven from whom I am separated. At the Lord’s table I always invite all
Churches to come and sit down and commune with us. If any man were to
tell me that I am separate from the Episcopalian, the Presbyterian, or the
Methodist, I would tell him he did not know me, for I love them with a
pure heart fervently, and I am not separate from them. I may hold different
views from them, and in that point truly I may be said to be separate; but I
am not separate in heart, I will work with them — I will work with them
heartily; nay, though my Church of England brother sends me in, as he has
done, a summons to pay a churchrate that I cannot in conscience pay, I will
love him still; and if he takes chairs and tables it matters not — I will love
him for all that; and if there be a ragged-school or anything else for which I
can work with him to promote the glory of God, therein will I unite with
him with all my heart. I think this bears rather hard on our friends — the
Strict Communion Baptists. I should not like to say anything hard against
them, for they are about the best people in the world, but they really do
separate themselves from the great body of Christ’s people. The Spirit of
the living God will not let them do this really, but they do it professedly.
They separate themselves from the great Universal Church. They say they
will not commune with it; and if any one comes to their table who has not
been baptized, they turn him away. They “separate,” certainly. I do not
believe it is willful schism that makes them thus act; but at the same time I
think the old man within has some hand in it.
Oh, how my heart loves the doctrine of the one church. The nearer I get to
my Master in prayer and communion, the closer am I knit to all his
disciples. The more I see of my own errors and failings, the more ready am
I to deal gently with them that I believe to be erring. The pulse of Christ’s
body is communion; and woe to the church that seeks to cure the ills of
Christ’s body by stopping its pulse. I think it sin to refuse to commune with
anyone who is a member of the Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. I desire
this morning to preach the unity of Christ’s church. I have sought to use
the fan to blow away the chaff. I have said no man belongs to Christ’s
church unless he has the Spirit; but, if he hath the Spirit, woe be to the man
that separates himself from him. Oh! I should think myself grossly in fault if
at the foot of these stairs I should meet a truly converted child of God,
who called himself a Primitive Methodist, or a Wesleyan. or a Churchman,
or an Independent, and I should say, “No, sir, you do not agree with me on
certain points; I believe you are a child of God, but I will have nothing to
do with you.” I should then think that this text would bear very hard on
me. “These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the
Spirit.” But would we do so, beloved? No, we would give them both our
hands, and say, God speed to you in your journey to heaven; so long as
you have got the Spirit we are one family, and we will not be separate from
one another. God grant the day may come when every wall of separation
shall be beaten down! See how to this day we are separate. There! you will
find a Baptist who could not say a good word to a Poedo-Baptist if you
were to give him a world. You find to this day Episcopalians who hate that
ugly word, “Dissent;” and it is enough for them that a Dissenter has done a
thing; they will not do it then, be it never so good.
Ah! and furthermore, there are some to be found in the Church of England
that will not only hate dissent, but hate one another into the bargain. Men
are to be found that cannot let brother ministers of their own church preach
in their parish. What an anachronism such men are! They would seem to
have been sent into the world in our time purely by mistake. Their proper
era would have been the time of the dark ages. If they had lived then, what
fine Bonners they would have made! What splendid fellows they would
have been to have helped to poke the fire in Smithfield! But they are quite
out of date in these times, and I look upon such a curious clergyman in the
same way that I do upon a Dodo — as an extraordinary animal whose race
is almost, if not quite extinct. Well, you may look, and look and wonder.
The animal will be extinct soon. It will not be long, I trust, before not only
the Church of England shall love itself, but when all who love the Lord
Jesus shall be ready to preach in each other’s pulpits, preaching the same
truth, holding the same faith, and mightily contending for it. Then shall the
world “see how these Christians love one another; “ and then shall it be
known in heaven that Christ s kingdom has come, and that his will is about
to be done on earth as it is in heaven.
My hearer, dost thou belong to the church? For out of the church there is
no salvation. But mark what the church is. It is not the Episcopalian,
Baptist, or Presbyterian: the church is a company of men who have
received the Spirit. If thou canst not say thou hast the Spirit, go thy way
and tremble; go thy way and think of thy lost condition; and may Jesus by
his Spirit so bless thee, that thou mayest be led to renounce thy works and
ways with grief, and fly to him who died upon the cross, and find a shelter
there from the wrath of God.
I may have said some rough things this morning, but I am not given much
to cutting and trimming, and I do not suppose I shall begin to learn that art
now. If the thing is untrue, it is with you to reject it; if it be true, at your
own peril reject what God stamps with divine authority. May the blessing
of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit rest upon the one church of
Israel’s one Jehovah. Amen and Amen.