The Spurgeon Series 1857 & 1858. Charles H. Spurgeon

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СКАЧАТЬ say, were not those in heaven pardoned? Are there not many transgressors pardoned, and do they not escape without punishment? Has he not said, “I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud, and like a thick cloud your iniquities?” Yes, true, most true, and yet my assertion is true also — not one of all those sins that have been pardoned were pardoned without punishment. Do you ask me why and how such a thing as that can be the truth? I point you to that dreadful sight on Calvary; the punishment which fell not on the forgiven sinner fell there. The cloud of justice was charged with fiery hail; the sinner deserved it; it fell on him; but, for all that, it fell, and spent its fury; it fell there, in that great reservoir of misery; it fell into the Saviour’s heart. The plagues, which should have fallen on our ingratitude did not fall on us, but they fell somewhere and who was it that was plagued? Tell me, Gethsemane; tell me, oh Calvary’s summit, who was plagued. The doleful answer comes, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It is Jesus suffering all the plagues of sin. Sin is still punished, though the sinner is delivered.

      21. But, you say, this has scarcely proven that he will not acquit the wicked. I hold, it has proven it, and proven it clearly. But do you want any further proof that God will not acquit the wicked? Need I lead you through a long list of terrible wonders that God has wrought — the wonders of his vengeance? Shall I show you blighted Eden? Shall I let you see a world all drowned — sea monsters whelping and stabling in the palaces of kings? Shall I let you hear the last shriek of the last drowning man as he falls into the flood and dies, washed by that huge wave from the hilltop? Shall I let you see death riding upon the summit of a crested billow, upon a sea that knows no shore, and triumphing because his work is done; his quiver empty, for all men are drown, except where life flows in the midst of death in that ark? Need I let you see Sodom, with its terrified inhabitants, when the volcano of almighty wrath spouted fiery hail upon it? Shall I show you the earth opening its mouth to swallow up Korah, Dathan, and Abiram? Need I take you to the plagues of Egypt? Shall I again repeat the death shriek of Pharaoh, and the drowning of his host? Surely, we need not to be told of cities that are in ruins, or of nations that have been cut off in a day; you need not to be told how God has struck the earth from one side to the other, when he has been angry, and how he has melted mountains in his hot displeasure. No, we have proofs enough in history, proofs enough in Scripture, that “he will not at all acquit the wicked.” If you wanted the best proof, however, you should borrow the black wings of a miserable imagination, and fly beyond the world, through the dark realm of chaos, on, far on, where those battlements of fire are gleaming with a horrid light — if through them, with a spirit’s safety, you would fly, and would behold the worm that never dies, the pit that knows no bottom, and could you there see the fire unquenchable, and listen to the shrieks and wails of men that are banished for ever from God — if, sirs, it were possible for you to hear the sullen groans and hollow moans, and shrieks of tortured ghosts, then you would come back to this world, amazed and petrified with horror, and you would say, “Indeed he will not acquit the wicked.” You know, hell is the proof for the text; may you never have to prove the text by feeling in yourselves the proof fully carried out, “He will not at all acquit the wicked.”

      22. And now we trace this terrible attribute to its source. Why is this?

      23. We reply, God will not acquit the wicked, because he is good. What! does goodness demand that sinners shall be punished? It does. The Judge must condemn the murderer, because he loves his nation. “I cannot, let you go free; I cannot, and I must not; you would kill others, who belong to this fair commonwealth, if I were to let you go free; no, I must condemn you from the very loveliness of my nature.” The kindness of a king demands the punishment of those who are guilty. It is not wrathful in the legislature to make severe laws against great sinners; it is only love towards the rest that sin should be restrained. Those great floodgates, which keep back the torrent of sin, are painted black, and look very horrible, like horrid dungeon gates, they frighten my spirit; but are they proofs that God is not good? No sirs; if you could open wide those gates, and let the deluge of sin flow on us, then would you cry, “Oh God, oh God! shut the gates of punishment again, let law again be established, set up the pillars, and swing the gates upon their hinges; shut again the gates of punishment, that this world may not again be utterly destroyed by men who have become worse than brutes.” It needs for very goodness’ sake that sin should be punished. Mercy, with her weeping eyes (for she has wept for sinners) when she finds they will not repent, looks more terribly stern in her loveliness than Justice in all his majesty; she drops the white flag from her hand, and says — “No; I called, and they refused; I stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; let them die, let them die,” — and that terrible word from the lip of Mercy’s self is harsher thunder than the very damnation of Justice. Oh, yes, the goodness of God demands that men should perish, if they will sin.

      24. And again, the justice of God demands it. God is infinitely just, and his justice demands that men should be punished, unless they turn to him with full purpose of heart. Need I pass through all the attributes of God to prove it? I do not think I need to. We must all of us believe that the God who is slow to anger and great in power is also sure not to acquit the wicked. And now just a home thrust or two with you. What is your state this morning? My friend, man, woman, what is your state? Can you look up to heaven, and say, “Though I have sinned greatly, I believe Christ was punished in my place,”

      My faith looks back to see,

      The burden he did bear,

      When hanging on the cursed tree,

      And knows her guilt was there?

      Can you by humble faith look to Jesus, and say, “My substitute, my refuge, my shield; you are my rock, my trust; in you I do confide?” Then beloved, to you I have nothing to say, except this, — Never be afraid when you see God’s power; for now that you are forgiven and accepted, now that by faith you have fled to Christ for refuge, the power of God need no more terrify you, than the shield and sword of the warrior need terrify his wife or his child. “No,” says the woman, “is he strong? He is strong for me. Is his arm brawny, and are all his sinews fast and strong? Then they are fast and strong for me. While he lives, and wears a shield, he will stretch it over my head; and while his good sword can cleave foes, it will cleave my foes too, and ransom me.” Be of good cheer; do not fear his power.

      25. But have you never fled to Christ for refuge? Do you not believe in the Redeemer? Have you never confided your soul to his hands? Then, my friends, hear me; in God’s name, hear me just a moment. My friend, I would not stand in your position for an hour, for all the stars twice spelled in gold! For what is your position? You have sinned, and God will not acquit you; he will punish you. He is letting you live; you are reprieved. Poor is the life of one that is reprieved without a pardon! Your reprieve will soon run out; your hourglass is emptying every day. I see on some of you death has put his cold hand, and frozen your hair to whiteness. You need your staff, it is the only barrier between you and the grave now; and you are, all of you, old and young, standing on a narrow neck of land, between two boundless seas — that neck of land, that isthmus of life, narrowing every moment, and you, and you, and you, are yet unpardoned. There is a city to be sacked, and you are in it — soldiers are at the gates; the command is given that every man in the city is to be slaughtered except he who can give the password. “Sleep on, sleep on; the attack is not today; sleep on, sleep on.” “But it is tomorrow, Sir.” “Indeed, sleep on, sleep on; it is not until tomorrow sleep on, procrastinate, procrastinate.” “Listen! I hear a rumbling at the gates; the battering ram is at them; the gates are tottering.” “Sleep on, sleep on; the soldiers are not yet at your doors; sleep on, sleep on; ask for no mercy yet; sleep on, sleep on!” “Indeed, but I hear the shrill clarion sound; they are in the streets. Listen to the shrieks of men and women! They are slaughtering them; they fall they fall, they fall!” “Sleep on; they are not yet at your door.” “But listen, they are at the gate; with heavy tramp I hear the soldiers marching up the stairs!” “No, sleep on, sleep on; they are not yet in your room.” СКАЧАТЬ