The Spurgeon Series 1857 & 1858. Charles H. Spurgeon

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СКАЧАТЬ the burning metal running forth from the cauldron into the mould; death cools you in your mould, and you are cast in that shape throughout eternity. The voice of doom cries over the dead, “He who is holy let him be holy still; he who is unjust let him be unjust still; he who is filthy, let him be filthy still.” The damned are lost for ever; they cannot be born again; they go on cursing, ever being cursed; ever fighting against God, and ever being trampled beneath his feet; they go on ever mocking, ever being laughed at for their mockery; ever rebelling and ever being tortured with the whips of conscience, because they are ever sinning. They cannot be regenerated because they are dead.

      17. “Well,” another says, “I will take care that I am regenerated just before I die.” Sir, I repeat again, you are a fool in talking thus; how do you know that you shall live? Have you taken a lease on your life, as you have on your house? Can you ensure the breath within your nostrils? Can you say in certainty, that another ray of light shall ever reach your eye? Can you be sure that as your heart is beating a funeral march to the grave, you will not soon beat the last note; and so you shall die where you stand or sit now? Oh, man! if your bones were iron, and your sinews brass, and your lungs steel, then might you say, “I shall live.” But you are made of dust; you are like the flower of the field; you may die now. Lo! I see death standing over there, moving to and fro the stone of time upon his scythe, to sharpen it; today, today, for some of you he grasps the scythe — and away, away, he mows the fields, and you fall one by one. You must not, and you cannot live. God carries us away as a flood, like a ship in a whirlpool; like the log in a current, dashed onward to the cataract. There is no stopping anyone of us; we are all dying now! and yet you say you will be regenerated before you die! Indeed, sirs, but are you regenerated now? For if not, it may be too late to hope for tomorrow. Tomorrow you may be in hell, sealed up for ever by adamantine destiny, which never can be moved.

      18. “Well,” cries another, “I do not care much about it; for I see very little in being shut out of Paradise.” Ah, sir, it is because you do not understand it. You smile at it now; but there will be a day when your conscience will be tender, when your memory will be strong, when your judgment will be enlightened, and when you will think very differently from what you do now. Sinners in hell are not the fools they were on earth; in hell they do not laugh at everlasting burnings; in the pit they do not despise the words, “eternal fire.” The worm that never dies, when it is gnawing, gnaws out all joke and laughter; you may despise God now, and despise me now for what I say, but death will change your tune. Oh! my hearers, if that would be all, I would be willing. You may despise me, yes you may; but oh! I beseech you, do not despise yourselves; oh! do not be so fool hardy as to go whistling to hell, and laughing to the pit; for when you are there, sirs, you will find it a different thing from what you dream it to be now. When you see the gates of Paradise shut against you, you will find it to be a more important matter than you now judge it to be. You came to hear me preach today, as you would have gone to the opera or theatre; you thought I would amuse you. Ah! that is not my aim, God is my witness, I came here solemnly in earnest, to wash my hands of your blood. If you are damned, anyone of you, it shall not be because I did not warn you. Men and women, if you perish, my hands are washed in innocency; I have told you of your doom. I again cry, repent, repent, repent, for “unless you repent you shall all likewise perish.” I came here determined this morning, if I must use rough words to use them; to speak right out against men and for men too; for the things we say against you now are really for your good. We do only warn you, lest you perish. But ah! I hear one of you saying, “I do not understand this mystery, please explain it to me.” Fool, fool, that you are; do you see that fire? We are startled from our beds, the light is at the window; we rush downstairs; people are hurrying to and fro; the street is trampled thick with crowds: they are rushing towards the house, which is in a burst of flame. The firemen are at their work; a stream of water is pouring upon the house; but listen! listen! there is a man upstairs; there is a man in the top room; there is just time for him to escape, and barely. A shout is raised — “Aho! fire! fire! fire! aho!” — but the man does not make his appearance at the window. See, the ladder is placed against the walls; it is up to the windowsill — a strong hand dashes over the casement! What is the man after, all the while? What! is he tied down in his bed? Is he a cripple? Has some fiend got hold of him and nailed him to the floor? No, no, no; — he feels the boards getting hot beneath his feet, the smoke is stifling him, the flame is burning all around, he knows there is only one way of escape, by that ladder! What is he doing? He is sitting down — no, you cannot believe me — he is sitting down and saying, “The origin of this fire is very mysterious; I wonder how it is to be explained; how shall we understand it?” Why, you laugh him! You are laughing at yourselves. You are seeking to have this question and that question answered, when your soul is in peril of eternal fire! Oh! when you are saved, it will be time then to ask questions; but while you are now in the burning house, and in danger of destruction, it is not your time to be puzzling yourselves about free will, fixed fate, absolute predestination. All these questions are good and well enough afterwards for those who are saved. Let the man on shore try to find out the cause of the storm; your only business now is to ask, “What must I do to be saved? And how can I escape from the great damnation that awaits me?”

      19. But ah! my friends, I cannot speak as I wish to. I think I feel, this morning, something like Dante, when he wrote his “The Inferno.” Men said of him that he had been in hell; he looked like it. He had thought of it so long, that they said, “He has been in hell,” he spoke with such an awful earnestness. Ah! if I could, I would speak like that too. It is only a few days more, and I shall meet you face to face; I can look over the lapse of a few years, when you and I shall stand face to face before God’s bar. “Watchman, watchman,” says a voice, “did you warn them? did you warn them?” Will any of you then say I did not? No, even the most abandoned of you will, on that day, say, “We laughed, we scoffed at it, we did not care about it; but, oh Lord, we are obliged to speak the truth; the man was in earnest about it; he told us of our doom, and he is clear.” Will you say so? I know you will.

      20. But yet this one more remark — to be cast out of heaven is an awful thing. Some of you have parents there; you have dear friends there; they grasped your hands in death, and said, “Farewell, until we meet you.” But if you never see the kingdom of God, you can never see them again. “My mother,” one says, “sleeps in the graveyard; I often go to the tomb and put some flowers upon it, in remembrance of the one who nursed me; but must I never see her again?” No, never again; no, never, unless you are born again. Mothers, you have had infants that have gone to heaven; you would like to see your family all around the throne; but you will never see your children any more, unless you are born again. Will you bid adieu this day to the immortal? Will you say farewell this hour to your glorified friends in paradise? You must say so, or else be converted. You must flee to Christ, and trust in him, and his Spirit must renew you, or else you must look up to heaven, and say, “Choir of the blest! I shall never hear you sing; parents of my youth, guardians of my infancy, I love you, but between you and myself there is a great gulf fixed; I am cast away, and you are saved.” Oh, I beseech you, think on these matters; and when you go away, do not let what I have said be forgotten. If you are at all impressed this morning, do not suppress the impression; it may be your last warning; it will be a sorrowful thing to be lost with the notes of the gospel in your ears, and to perish under the ministry of truth.

      {a} Puseyite: A follower of Pusey; a supporter or promoter of the Oxford or Tractarian Movement. Puseyism was a name given by opponents to the theological and ecclesiastical principles and doctrines of Dr. Pusey and those with whom he was associated in the “Oxford Movement” for the revival of Catholic doctrine and observance in the Church of England which began about 1833; more formally and courteously called Tractarianism. Now little used. Dr. Pusey’s initials were appended to No. 18 (21 Dec. 1833, on Fasting) of the Tracts for the Times, and, of the ninety, seven were written by him. His academic and ecclesiastical position gave great weight to his support of the movement, and specially associated his name with it. OED.

      {b} Dr. William Palmer, born in Rugeley on 6th August 1824, hanged at Stafford, June 14, 1856. Christened by the Newspapers as “The СКАЧАТЬ