Clothed in white garments

It seems that the elders sitting around the throne were represented to the illuminated eye of John as “clothed in white raiment.” Not in raiment of party-colors, whereon there were some spots, and yet some signs of whiteness. They are without fault before the throne of God; they have “washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb,” and the Spirit of God also has so thoroughly renewed them, that they are “without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing;” they have been presented holy and unblameable before the throne of God. Brothers and sisters, in this too, they are an example to us.

Oh that the Spirit of God might keep the members of this Church, that our garments might be always white. Perfection we must not hope to see here; but oh, we must aim after it. If one should never unite with a Christian Church till he found one which is perfect and free from all fault, then such a man must be a schismatic for ever, for with no Christian people could he ever join. Yet, this is what we aspire unto - to be faultless before God. We desire so to walk, and so to act among men, that our conduct may never bring a slur upon our profession - that our language, our actions, our motives, everything that is about us, may witness to the fact that we have been with Jesus, and have learned of him.

From a sermon entitled "The Elders Before The Throne," delivered March 23, 1862. Flickr photo by Benjie Ordoñez; some rights reserved.

Not for common purposes

Brothers and sisters, have we ever realized this truth as we ought to do? When a vessel, cup, altar, or instrument was set apart for divine worship, it was never used for common purposes again. No man but the priest might drink out of the golden cup; the altar might not be trifled with; God’s brazen lacer was not for ordinary ablution; even the tongs upon the altar and the snuffers for the lamps were never to be profaned for any common purpose whatsoever. What a suggestive and solemn fact is this! If you and I be sanctified by God the Father, we ought never to be used for any purpose but for God. “What,” say you, “not for ourselves?” My brethren, not for ourselves. Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price. “But must we not work and earn our own bread?” Verily ye must, but still not with that as your object. You must still be “diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.” Remember, if ye be servants, ye are to serve not with eye service as men pleasers, but serving the Lord. If any man shall say “I have an occupation in which I cannot serve the Lord,” leave it, you have no right in it; but I think there is no calling in which man can be found, certainly no lawful calling, in which he may not be able to say, “Whether I eat or drink, or whatsoever I do, I do all to the glory of God.”

From a sermon entitled "Threefold Sanctification," delivered. Flickr photo by Louise Docker; some rights reserved.

Perceiving the Presence of God

If you would feel God’s presence, you must have an affinity to his nature. Your soul must have the spirit of adoption, and it will soon find out its Father. Your spirit must have a desire after holiness, and it will soon discover the presence of Him who is holiness itself. Your mind must be heavenly, and you will soon detect that the God of Heaven is here. The more nearly we become like God, the more sure shall we be that God is where we are. To a man who has reached the highest stage of sanctification the presence of God becomes a more sure fact than the presence of anything else beside. In fact, he may even get to such a state that he will look upon the fields, streets, inhabitants and events of the world as a dream, a passing background, while the only real thing to him will be the unseen God which his new nature so clearly manifests to him, that his faith becomes the evidence of things not seen, the substance of things which sense cannot perceive. Likeness to God is first necessary for the clear perception of his presence.

From a sermon entitled "Jacob's Waking Exclamation." Flickr photo by Denise Avila; some rights reserved.

Holiness Unto The Lord

I would, my dear brethren, that you would make your common toils Holiness unto the Lord. Come to look upon your meals as though they were sacraments, your clothes as though they were priestly vestments; your common words as though you were preaching daily sermons; and your every-day thoughts as though you were thinking for the Sabbath of holy things. It is not to be always talking religion, but to be talking religiously that makes the Christian; it is not to be performing outward symbols, it is to be possessing the inward spirit. I do believe that there is more piety in going to visit the poor and needy and scattering your substance among them; more piety in teaching the poor ignorant ragged child, more piety in seeking to help some poor struggling tradesman, than there is in many a long prayer, and many a sanctimonious whine, ay and in many a long and eloquent discourse.

That common piety which like common sense is oftenest the uncommonest of all, is what we need to have, and if I could make one man among you become thus consecrated, I should think I had, under God, done as much as though I poured you out in scores upon the plain of Hindostan, or sent you to edify the Chinese, or to instruct the Ethiopian. We want you as missionaries here; we want you as missionaries in daily life, and we must have you too, or else the Church will not increase, nor will the name of Christ be magnified.

From a sermon entitled "A Peal Of Bells," delivered July 7, 1861. Flickr photo by Noël Zia Lee; some rights reserved.

The spotless life of Christ

I find that many young Christians who are very clear about being saved by the merits of Christ’s death, do not seem to understand the merits of his life. Remember, young believers, that from the first moment when Christ did lie in the cradle until the time when he ascended up on high, he was at work for his people; and from the moment when he was seen in Mary’s arms, till the instant when in the arms of death he “bowed his head and gave up the ghost,” he was at work for your salvation and mine. He completed the work of obedience in his life, and said to his Father, “I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.” Then he completed the work of atonement in his death, and knowing that all things were accomplished, he cried, “It is finished.” He was through his life spinning the web for making the royal garment, and in his death he dipped that garment in his blood. In his life he was gathering together the precious gold, in his death he hammered it out to make for us a garment which is of wrought gold. You have as much to thank Christ for loving as for dying, and you should be as reverently and devoutly grateful for his spotless life as for his terrible and fearful death.

From a sermon entitled "The Lord Our Righteousness," delivered June 2, 1861. Flickr photo by Matt McGee ; some rights reserved.

The chastening of the Lord

When a father chastises a son for anything he has done, and the boy does it again directly, it shows that he despises his father’s chastening; and so have we seen Christians who have had an error in their lives, and God has chastened them on account of it, but they have done it again. Ah! you will remember there was a man named Eli. God chastened him once when he sent Samuel to tell him dreadful news - that because he had not reproved his children those children should be destroyed, but Eli kept on the same as ever; he despised the chastening of the Lord although his ears were made to tingle, and in a little while God did something else for him. His sons were taken away, and then it was too late to mend, for the children were gone. The time he might have reformed, his character had passed away. How many of you get chastened of God and do not bear the rod. There are many deaf souls that do not hear God’s rod; many Christians are blind and cannot see God’s purposes, and when God would take some folly out of them the folly is still retained. It is not every affliction that benefits the Christian; it is only a sanctified affliction. It is not every trial that purifies an heir of light it is only a trial that God himself sanctifies by his grace. Take heed if God is trying you, that you search and find out the reason. Are the consolations of God small with you? Then, there is some reason for it. Have you lost that joy you once felt? There is some cause for it. Many a man would not have half so much suffered if he would but look to the cause of it.

I have sometimes walked a mile or two, almost limping along because there was a stone in my shoe, and I did not stop to look for it. And many a Christian goes limping for years because of the stones in his shoe, but if he would only stop to look for them, he would be relieved. What is the sin that is causing you pain? Get it out, and take away the sin, for if you do not, you have not regarded this admonition which speaketh unto you as unto sons — “My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord.”

From a sermon entitled "Chastisement," delivered October 28, 1855.

Photo by Christian Guthier; some rights reserved.

The Likeness of Christ

A Christian should be a striking likeness of Jesus Christ. You have read lives of Christ, beautifully and eloquently written, and you have admired the talent of the persons who could write so well, but the best life of Christ is his living biography, written out in the words and actions of his people. If we, my brethren, were what we profess to be; if the Spirit of the Lord were in the heart of all his children, as we could desire; and if, instead of having abundance of formal professors, we were all possessors of that vital grace, I will tell you not only what we ought to be but what we should be; we should be pictures of Christ, yea, such striking likenesses of him, that the world would not have to hold us up by the hour together, and say, “Well, it seems somewhat of a likeness;” but they would, when they once beheld us, exclaim, “He has been with Jesus; he has been taught of him, he is like him; he has caught the very idea of the holy Man of Nazareth, and he expands it out into his very life and every day actions.”

From a sermon entitled "Christ's People - Imitators of Him," delivered April 29, 1855.

Photo by tomt6788; some rights reserved.

Jesus has come to purify

“And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.” — Malachi 3:3.

It is well for us to know that, whenever Jesus Christ draws near to a soul, he comes in utmost mercy to make it clean. Because he is in himself the incarnation of ineffable love, his coming always means that he is about to purify the soul, for the highest mercy is to rid us of sin. The grandest thing that God himself can do in the purpose of his love is to purify us into his own glorious holiness. Christ loved his church, and this is how he showed it; “He gave himself for it, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing.”

The Well Beloved seeks to purify his chosen by the washing of water through the word. It is the way his love takes: for true love doth ever choose the way of holiness. That love which would lead its beloved into sin is lust; it deserves not the name of love; but true love will ever seek the highest health and wholeness (which is holiness) of its object. Pure affection will grieve to see a fault, mourn over a folly, and seek to remove a blot. Perfect love seeks the perfection of the thing it loves. Such is the perfect love of Christ: whenever he comes to a soul in love he comes as a refiner. He comes with this object, — to take away the dross from the silver, and to make the fine gold purer still.

From a sermon entitled "The Sitting of the Refiner."

Photo by Scott Robinson; some rights reserved.

You must be born again

Perhaps someone here says, “I have given up drunkenness....” “Well,” says another, “I am very different from what I was twelve months ago. I am glad of it, I say again, as glad as when I read that this blind man’s eyes were opened. But, my dear friend, that is not the main point. “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” Morality is excellent as far as it goes, but without holiness no man shall see the Lord, and holiness far exceeds mere morality. Holiness can only be produced by a real change of heart, and that real change of heart can only come through the regenerating power of the Holy Spirit which manifests itself through faith in Jesus Christ. Moral changes are commendable, and we would be the last to say a word against them; but just as silver is not gold, so morality is not holiness, and the message we have still to deliver is this, “Ye must be born again.”

So we press the question of the text home upon the conscience of everyone here because it concerns the vital point of faith in Christ. I am convinced that this question, “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” is the most important question that a man can ever have to answer; this is vitally and overwhelmingly important. “I am a Churchman,” says one. “I am a Nonconformist,” says another. “I am a Calvinist,” says one. “I am an Arminian,” says another. Well now, I am not going to ask you anything about your belief on any of these points, though I know what I think is the right view concerning all of them. But I can tell you that you may go to heaven or you may go to hell either as a Churchman or as a Nonconformist, as a Calvinist or as an Arminian; but if you believe on Jesus Christ, you shall never perish, neither shall any pluck you out of his hands. It is believing on him that is the all-important point, so I still urge each one of you to answer the question, “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?”

From a sermon entitled, "A Question For Thee," delivered August 9, 1874.

Photo by Peter Emmett. Some rights reserved.

Are we truly useful to God?

If we do that which is pleasing in God’s sight the Lord will be with us in our work, but not else. Suppose a minister to have been living through the week a careless, prayerless life; he may preach his best, but as he is not a vessel fit for the Master’s use he may not reckon upon being used by the Lord. If the Sunday-school teacher goes to her class after indulging in light conversation or in an angry temper, there is no wonder that souls are not converted by her teaching. If the city missionary does not find souls blessed in his district, need he wonder, when upon looking within he sees a cold heart, and upon looking without he sees a negligent life? A mother wonders that her children are not saved, and yet it would be a far greater wonder if they were, when her general conduct and spirit are taken into consideration. A father has been astonished that his boys have not turned out Christians, while every one except himself can see that it would have been a thousand miracles if they had become religious, for their father’s religion is of that sour, melancholy, rigid, frigid, unlovely type, that you could not suppose anybody could like it unless they had a partiality for sour grapes and bitter aloes.

We must get rid of the things that displease God, if we are to be useful, and when that is done then shall we be able to say, “He that sent me is with me; the Father hath not left me alone.”

Now I close, and closing I ask you — is this too high a model for you? Would you prefer an example which would let you abide contented in a measure of sin? I hear many say, “I love Christ,” but their love does not make them imitate the Lord. I fear that they do not know him, and if they did they would not love him, but would think him a deal too precise and self-denying. There is such a thing as loving a Christ of our imagining, and not the Christ of the New Testament, whose character is absolute perfection. Do you love the holy Jesus? If you do, then I am sure you do not think his character too elevated, or his example too pure, nay, you say, “Lord, I love this holy living, I only wish I could in all things copy it. Oh, for more holiness! Grant it to me!”

From a sermon entitled "The Christian's Motto, delivered March 22, 1874.

Photo by Kyle Simourd.

Consecrated to Christ

The littleness of Christians of this age results from the littleness of their consecration to Christ. The age of John Owen was the day of great preachers; but let me tell you, that that was the age of great consecration. Those great preachers whose names we remember, were men who counted nothing their own: they were driven out from their benefices, because they could not conform to the Established Church, and they gave up all they had willingly to the Lord. They were hunted from place to place; the disgraceful five-mile act would not permit them to come within five miles of any market town; they wandered here and there to preach the gospel to a few poor sheep, being fully given up to their Lord.

Those were foul times; but they promised they would walk the road fair or foul, and they did walk it knee deep in mud; and they would have walked it if it had been knee deep in blood too. They became great men, and if we were, as they were, wholly given up to God — if we could say of ourselves, “From the crown of my head to the sole of my foot, there is not a drop of blood that is not wholly God’s; all my time, all my talents, everything I have is God’s” — if we could say that, we [would] be strong like Samson, for the consecrated must be strong.

From a sermon entitled, "Samson Conquered," delivered November 21, 1858.

Christians who are enemies of the cross of Christ

The world will not care about my testimony with the lip, unless there be also a testimony in my daily life for God, for truth, for holiness, for everything that is honest, lovely, pure, and of good report. There is that in a Christian's character which the world, though it may persecute the man himself, learns to value. It is called consistency,—that is, the making of the life stand together, not being one thing in one place and another thing in another, or one thing at one time and quite different on another occasion.

It is not consistency to be devout on Sunday and to be dishonest on Monday. It is not consistency to sing the songs of Zion to-day, and to shout the songs of lustful mirth tomorrow. It is not consistency occasionally to wear the yoke of Christ, and yet frequently to make yourself the serf of Satan. But to make your life all of a piece is to make it powerful, and when God the Holy Ghost enables you to do this, then your testimony will tell upon those amongst whom you live. It would be ludicrous, if it were not so sorrowful a thing, to be spoken of even with weeping, that there should be professed Christians who are through inconsistency among the worst enemies of the cross of Christ. I heard, the other day, a story which made me laugh. A poor creature, in a lunatic asylum, had got it into his head that he was some great one, and he addressed a person who was visiting the asylum in the following words:—"I am Sir William Wallace; give me some tobacco!" What a ridiculous contrast between his proud assertion and his poor request! Who but a lunatic would have said such a thing? Yet alas! we know people who say, by their actions, if not in words, "I am a Christian, but I will take advantage of you when I can; I am one of the blood-royal of heaven, my life is hid with Christ in God, and my conversation is in heaven, but—but—I like worldliness, and sensual pleasure, and carnal mirth quite as well as other men!"

I say again, that this kind of thing would be superlatively ludicrous if it were not ineffably sorrowful, and it is, anyhow, utterly contemptible. If your life be not all of a piece, the world will soon learn how to estimate your testimony, and will count you to be either a fool or a knave, and perhaps both.

From a sermon entitled, "The Incomparable Bridegroom and His Bride," delivered June 10, 1886.