Awake! Awake!
November 15, 1857
by
C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892)
"Therefore let us not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober."
1 Thessalonians 5:6.
What sad things sin hath done. This fair world of ours was once a glorious
temple, every pillar of which reflected the goodness of God, and every part
of which was a symbol of good, but sin has spoiled and marred all the
metaphors and figures that might be drawn from earth. It has so deranged the
divine economy of nature, that those things which were inimitable pictures of
virtue, goodness, and divine plenitude of blessing, have now become the
figures and representatives of sin. 'Tis strange to say, but it is strangely
true, that the very best gifts of God have by the sin of man become the worst
pictures of man's guilt. Behold the flood! breaking forth from its fountains,
it rushes across the fields, bearing plenty on its bosom; it covers them
awhile, and anon it doth subside and leaves upon the plain a fertile deposit,
into which the farmer shall cast his seed and reap an abundant harvest. One
would have called the breaking forth of water a fine picture of the plenitude
of providence, the magnificence of God's goodness to the human race; but we
find that sin has appropriated that figure to itself. The beginning of sin is
like the breaking forth of waters. See the fire! how kindly God hath bestowed
upon us that element, to cheer us in the midst of winter's frosts. Fresh from
the snow and from the cold we rush to our household fire, and there by our
hearth we warm our hands, and glad are we. Fire is a rich picture of the
divine influences of the Spirit, a holy emblem of the zeal of the Christian;
but, alas! sin hath touched this, and the tongue called "a fire;" "it is set
on fire of hell," we are told, and it is so evidently full often, when it
uttereth blasphemy and slanders; and Jude lifts up his hand and exclaims,
when he looks upon the evils caused by sin, "Behold how great a matter a
little fire kindleth." And then there is sleep, one of the sweetest of God's
gifts, fair sleep
"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."
Sleep God hath selected as the very figure for the repose of the blessed.
"They that sleep in Jesus,'' saith the Scripture. David puts it amongst the
peculiar gift's of grace: "So he giveth his beloved sleep." But alas! sin
could not let even this alone. Sin did over-ride even this celestial
metaphor; and though God himself had employed sleep to express the excellence
of the state of the blessed, yet sin must have even this profaned, ere itself
can be expressed. Sleep is employed in our text as a picture of a sinful
condition. "Therefore let us not sleep as do others; but let us watch and be
sober."
With that introduction, I shall proceed at once to the text. The "sleep" of
the text is an evil to be avoided. In the second place, the word "therefore"
is employed to show us that there are certain reasons for the avoiding of
this sleep. And since the apostle speaks of this sleep with sorrow, it is to
teach us that there are some, whom he calls "others," over whom it is our
business to lament, because they sleep, and do not watch, and are not sober.
I. We commence, then, in the first place, by endeavoring to point out the
EVIL WHICH THE APOSTLE INTENDS TO DESCRIBE UNDER THE TERM SLEEP. The apostle
speaks of "others" who are asleep. If you turn to the original you will find
that the word translated "others" has a more emphatic meaning. It might be
rendered (and Horne so renders it) "the refuse,"-"Let us not sleep as do the
refuse," the common herd, the ignoble spirits, those who have no mind above
the troubles of earth. "Let us not sleep as do the others," the base ignoble
multitude who are not alive to the high and celestial calling of a Christian.
"Let us not sleep as do the refuse of mankind." And you will find that the
word "sleep," in the original, has also a more emphatic sense. It signifies a
deep sleep, a profound slumber; and the apostle intimates, that the refuse of
mankind are now in a profound slumber. We will now try if we can explain what
he meant by it.
First, the apostle meant, that the refuse of mankind are in a state of
deplorable ignorance. They that sleep know nothing. There may be merriment in
the house, but the sluggard shareth not in its gladness; there may be death
in the family but no tear bedeweth the cheek of the sleeper. Great events may
have transpired in the world's history, but he wots not of them. An
earthquake may have tumbled a city from its greatness, or war may have
devastated a nation, or the banner of triumph may be waving in the gale, and
the clarions of his country may be saluting us with victory, but he knoweth
nothing.
"Their labor and their love are lost,
Alike unknowing and unknown."
The sleeper knoweth not anything. Behold how the refuse of mankind are alike
in this! Of some things they know much, but of spiritual things they know
nothing; of the divine person of the adorable Redeemer they have no idea; of
the sweet enjoyments of a life of piety they can not even make a guess;
toward the high enthusiasms and the inward raptures of the Christian they can
not mount. Talk to them of divine doctrines, and they are to them a riddle;
tell them of sublime experiences, and they seem to them to be enthusiastic
fancies. They know nothing of the joys that are to come; and alas! for them,
they are oblivious of the evils which shall happen to them if they go on in
their iniquity. The mass of mankind are ignorant; they know not; they have
not the knowledge of God, they have no fear of Jehovah before their eyes;
but, blind-folded by the ignorance of this world, they march on through the
paths of lust to that sure and dreadful end, the everlasting ruin of their
souls. Brethren, if we be saints, let us not be ignorant as are others. Let
us search the Scriptures, for in them we have eternal life, for they do
testify of Jesus. Let us be diligent; let not the Word depart out of our
hearts; let us meditate therein both by day and night, that we may be as the
tree planted by the rivers of water. "Let us not sleep as do others."
Again, sleep pictures a state of insensibility. There may be much knowledge
in the sleeper, hidden, stored away in his mind, which might be well
developed, if he could but be awakened. But he hath no sensibility, he
knoweth nothing. The burglar hath broken into the house; the gold and silver
are both in the robbers hands; the child is being murdered by the cruelty of
him that hath broken in; but the father slumbereth, though all the gold and
silver that he hath, and his most precious child, are in the hands of the
destroyer. He is unconscious, how can he feel, when sleep had utterly sealed
his senses! Lo! in the street there is mourning. A fire hath just now burned
down the habitation of the poor, and houseless beggars are in the street.
They are crying at his window, and asking him for help. But he sleeps, and
what wots he, though the night be cold, and though the poor are shivering in
the blast? He hath no consciousness; he feeleth not for them. There! take the
title-deed of his estate, and burn the document. There! set light to his
farm-yard! burn up all that he hath in the field; kill his horse and destroy
his cattle; let now the fire of God descend and burn up his sheep; let the
enemy fall upon all that he hath and devour it. He sleeps as soundly as if he
were guarded by the angel of the Lord.
Such are the refuse of mankind. But alas! that we should have to include in
that word "refuse" the great bulk thereof! How few there are that feel
spiritually! They feel acutely enough any injury to their body, or to their
estate; but alas! for their spiritual concerns they have no sensation
whatever! They are standing on the brink of hell, but they tremble not; the
anger of God is burning against them, but they fear not; the sword of Jehovah
is unsheathed, but terror doth not seize upon them. They proceed with the
merry dance; they drink the bowl of intoxicating pleasure; they revel and
they riot, still do they sing the lascivious song; yea, they do more than
this; in their vain dreams they do defy the Most High, whereas, if they were
once awakened to the consciousness of their state, the marrow of their bones
would melt, and their heart would dissolve like wax in the midst of their
bowels. They are asleep, indifferent and unconscious. Do what you may to
them; let every thing be swept away that is hopeful, that might give them
cheer when they come to die, yet they feel it not; for how should a sleeper
feel anything? But, "Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us
watch and be sober."
Again: the sleeper cannot defend himself. Behold yonder prince, he is a
strong man, ay, and a strong man armed. He hath entered into the tent. He is
wearied. He hath drunken the woman's milk; he hath eaten her "butter in a
lordly dish;" he casteth himself down upon the floor, and he slumbereth. And
now she draweth nigh. She hath with her her hammer and her nail. Warrior!
thou couldst break her into atoms with one blow of thy mighty arm; but thou
canst not now defend thyself. The nail is at his ear, the woman's hand is on
the hammer, and the nail hath pierced his skull; for when he slept he was
defenseless. The banner of Sisera had waved victoriously over mighty foes;
but now it is stained by a woman. Tell it, tell it, tell it! The man, who
when he was awake, made nations tremble, dies by the hand of a feeble woman
when he sleepeth.
Such are the refuse of mankind. They are asleep; they have no power to resist
temptation. Their moral strength is departed, for God is departed from them.
There is the temptation to lust. They are men of sound principle in business
matters, and nothing could make them swerve from honesty; but lasciviousness
destroyeth them; they are taken like a bird in the snare; they are caught in
a trap; they are utterly subdued. Or, mayhap, it is another way that they are
conquered. They are men that would not do an unchaste act, or even think a
lascivious thought, they scorn it. But they have another weak point, they are
entrapped by the glass. They are taken and they are destroyed by drunkenness.
Or, if they can resist these things, and are inclined neither to looseness of
life nor to excess in living, yet mayhap covetousness entereth into them; by
the name of prudence it slideth into their hearts, and they are led to grasp
after treasure and to heap up gold, even though that gold be wrung out of the
veins of the poor, and though they do suck the blood of the orphan. They seem
to be unable to resist their passion. How many times have I been told by men,
"I can not help it, sir, do what I may; I resolve, I re-resolve, but I do the
same; I am defenseless; I can not resist the temptation!" Oh, of course you
can not, while you are asleep. O Spirit of the living God! wake up the
sleeper! Let sinful sloth and presumption both be startled, lest haply Moses
should come their way, and finding them asleep should hang them on the
gallows of infamy for ever.
Now, I come to give another meaning to the word "sleep." I hope there have
been some of my congregation who have been tolerable easy whilst I have
described the first three things, because they have thought that they were
exempt in those matters. But sleep signifies also inactivity. The farmer can
not plow his field in his sleep, neither can he cast the grain into the
furrows, nor watch the clouds, nor reap his harvest. The sailor can not reef
his sail, nor direct his ship across the ocean, whilst he slumbereth. It is
not possible that on the Exchange, or the mart, or in the house of business,
men should transact their affairs with their eyes fast closed in slumber. It
would be a singular thing to see a nation of sleepers; for they would be a
nation of idle men. They must all starve; they would produce no wealth from
the soil; they would have nothing for their backs, nought for clothing and
nought for food. But how many we have in the world that are inactive through
sleep! Yes, I say inactive. I mean by that, that they are active enough in
one direction, but they are inactive in the right. Oh how many men there are
that are totally inactive in anything that is for God's glory, or for the
welfare of their fellow creatures! For themselves, they can "rise up early,
and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness;"-for their children, which
is an alias for themselves, they can toil until their fingers ache-they can
weary themselves until their eyes are red in their sockets, till the brain
whirls, and they can do no more. But for God they can do nothing. Some say
they have no time, others frankly confess that they have no will: for God's
church they would not spend an hour, whilst for this worlds pleasure they
could lay out a month. For the poor they can not spend their time and
attention. They may haply have time to spare for themselves and for their own
amusment; but for holy works, for deeds of charity, and for pious acts they
declare they have no leisure; whereas, the fact is, they have no will.
Behold ye, how many professing Christians there are that are asleep in this
sense! They are inactive. Sinners are dying in the street by hundreds; men
are sinking into the flames of eternal wrath, but they fold their arms, they
pity the poor perishing sinner, but they do nothing to show that their pity
is real. They go to their places of worship; they occupy their well-cushioned
easy pew; they wish the minister to feed them every Sabbath; but there is
never a child taught in the Sunday-school by them; there is never a tract
distributed at the poor man's house; there is never a deed done which might
be the means of saving souls. We call them good men; some of them we even
elect to the office of deacons; and no doubt good men they are; they are as
good as Anthony meant to say that Brutus was honorable, when he said, "So are
we all, all honorable men." So are we all, all good, if they be good. But
these are good, and in some sense-good for nothing; for they just sit and eat
the bread, but they do not plow the field; they drink the wine, but they will
not raise the vine that doth produce it. They think that they are to live
unto themselves, forgetting that "no man liveth unto himself, and no man
dieth unto himself." Oh, what a vast amount of sleeping we have in all our
churches and chapels; for truly if our churches were once awake, so far as
material is concerned, there are enough converted men and women, and there is
enough talent with them, and enough money with them, and enough time with
them, God granting the abundance of His Holy Spirit, which he would be sure
to do if they were all zealous-there is enough to preach the gospel in every
corner of the earth. The church does not need to stop for want of
instruments, or for want of agencies; we hare everything now except the will;
we have all that we may expect to give for the conversion of the world,
except just a heart for the work, and the Spirit of God poured out into our
midst. Oh! brethren, "let us not sleep as do others." You will find the
"others" in the church and in the world: "the refuse" of both are sound
asleep.
Ere, however, I can dismiss this first point of explanation, it is necessary
for me just to say that the apostle himself furnishes us with part of an
exposition; for the second sentence, "let us watch and be sober," implies
that the reverse of these things is the sleep, which he means. "Let us
watch." There are many that never watch. They never watch against sin; they
never watch against the temptations of the enemy; they do not watch against
themselves, nor against "the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, and
the pride of life." They do not watch for opportunities to do good; they do
not watch for opportunities to instruct the ignorant, to confirm the weak, to
comfort the afflicted, to succor them that are in need; they do not watch for
opportunities of glorifying Jesus, or for times of communion; they do not
watch for the promises; they do not watch for answers to their prayers; they
do not watch for the second coming of our Lord Jesus. These are the refuse of
the world: they watch not because they are asleep. But let us watch: so shall
we prove that we are not slumberers.
Again: let us "be sober." Albert Barnes says, this most of all refers to
abstinence, or temperance in eating and drinking, Calvin says, not so; this
refers more especially to the spirit of moderation in the things of the
world. Both are right; it refers to both. There be many that are not sober;
they sleep because they are not so; for insobriety leadeth to sleep. They are
not sober-they are drunkards, they are gluttons. They are not sober-they can
not be content to do a little business-they want to do a great deal. They are
not sober-they can not carry on a trade that is sure-they must speculate.
They are not sober-if they lose their property, their spirit is cast down
within them, and they are like men that are drunken with wormwood. If on the
other hand, they get rich, they are not sober: they so set their affections
things on earth that they become intoxicated with pride, because of their
riches-become purse-proud, and need to have the heavens lifted up higher,
lest their heads should dash against the stars. How many people there are
that are not sober! Oh! I might especially urge this precept upon you at this
time, my dear friends. We have hard times coming, and the times are hard
enough now. Let us be sober. The fearful panic in America has mainly risen
from disobedience to this command-"Be sober;" and if the professors of
America had obeyed this commandment, and had been sober, the panic might at
any rate have been mitigated, if not totally avoided. Now, in a little time,
you who have any money laid by will be rushing to the bank to have it drawn
out, because you fear that the bank is tottering. You will not be sober
enough to have a little trust in your fellow-men, and help them through their
difficulty, and so be a blessing to the commonwealth. And you who think there
is anything to be got by lending your money at usury will not be content with
lending what you have, but you will be extorting and squeezing your poor
debtors, that you may get the more to lend. Men are seldom content to get
rich slowly, but he that hasteth to be rich shall not be innocent. Take care,
my brethren-if any hard times should come, if commercial houses should smash,
and banks be broken-take care to be sober. There is nothing will get us over
a panic so well as every one of us trying to keep our spirits up-just rising
in the morning and saying; "Times are very hard, and to-day I may lose my
all; but fretting will not help it; so just let me set a bold heart against
hard sorrow, and go to my business. The wheels of trade may stop; I bless
God, my treasure is in heaven; I can not be bankrupt. I have set my
affections on the things of God; I can not lose those things. There is my
jewel; there is my heart!" Why, if all men could do that, it would tend to
create public confidence; but the cause of the great ruin of many men is the
covetousness of all men, and the fear of some. If we could all go through the
world with confidence, and with boldness, and with courage, there is nothing
in the world that could avert the shock so well. Come, I suppose, the shock
must; and there are many men now present, who are very respectable, who may
expect to be beggars ere long. Your business is, so to put your trust in
Jehovah that you may be able to say, "Though the earth be removed, and though
the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, God is my refuge and
strength, a very present help in trouble; therefore will I not fear;" and
doing that, you will be creating more probabilities for the avoidance of your
own destruction than by any other means which the wisdom of man can dictate
to you. Let us not be intemperate in business, as are others; but let us
awake. "Let us not sleep"-not be carried away by the somnambulism of the
world, for what it is better than that?-activity and greed in sleep; "but let
us watch and be sober." Oh, Holy Spirit, help us to watch and be sober.
II. Thus I have occupied a great deal of time in explaining the first point-
What was the sleep which the apostle meant? And now you will notice that the
word "therefore" implies that there are CERTAIN REASONS FOR THIS. I shall
give you these reasons; and if I should cast them somewhat into a dramatic
form, you must not wonder; they will the better perhaps, be remembered.
"Therefore," says the apostle, "let us not sleep."
We shall first look at the chapter itself for our reasons. The first reason
precedes the text. The apostle tells us that "we are all the children of the
light and of the day; therefore let us not sleep as do others." I marvel not
when, as I walk through the streets after nightfall, I see every shop closed
and every window-blind drawn down; and I see the light in the upper room
significant of retirement to rest. I wonder not that a half an hour later my
footfall startles me, and I find none in the streets. Should I ascend the
staircase, and look into the sleeper's placid countenances, I should not
wonder; for it is night, the proper time for sleep. But if, some morning, at
eleven or twelve o'clock, I should walk down the streets and find myself
alone, and notice every shop closed, and every house straitly shut up, and
hearken to no noise, should say, "'Tis strange, 'tis passing strange, 'tis
wonderful. What are these people at? 'Tis day-time, and yet they are all
asleep. I should be inclined to seize the first rapper I could find, and give
a double knock, and rush to the next door, and ring the bell, and so all the
way down the street, or go to the police station, and wake up what man I
found there, and bid them make a noise in the street; or go for the fire-
engine, and bid the firemen rattle down the road and try to wake these people
up. For I should say to myself, "There is some pestilence here; the angel of
death must have flown through these streets during the night and killed all
these people, or else they would have been sure to have been awake." Sleep in
the daytime is utterly incongruous. "Well, now," says the apostle Paul, "ye
people of God, it is day time with you; the sun of righteousness has risen
upon you with healing in his wings; the light of God's Spirit is in your
conscience; ye have been brought out of darkness into marvelous light; for
you to be asleep, for a church to slumber, is like a city a-bed in the day,
like a whole town slumbering when the sun is shining. It is untimely and
unseemly."
And now, if you look to the text again, you will find there another argument.
"Let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith
and love." So, then, it seems, it is war-time; and therefore, again, it is
unseemly to slumber. There is a fortress, yonder, far away in India. A troop
of those abominable Sepoys have surrounded it. Blood thirsty hell-hounds, if
they once gain admission, they will rend the mother and her children, and cut
the strong man in pieces. They are at the gates: their cannon are loaded,
their bayonets thirst for blood, and their swords are hungry to slay. Go
through the fortress, and the people are all asleep. There is the warder on
the tower, nodding on his bayonet. There is the captain in his tent, with his
pen in his hand, and his dispatches before him, asleep at the table. There
are soldiers lying down in their tents, ready for the war, but all
slumbering. There is not a man to be seen keeping watch there is not a sentry
there. All are asleep. Why, my friends, you would say, "Whatever is the
matter here? What can it be? Has some great wizard been waving his wand, and
put a spell upon them all? Or are they all mad? Have their minds fled? Sure,
to be asleep in wartime is indeed outrageous. Here! take down that trumpet;
go close up to the captain's ear, and blow a blast, and see if it does not
awake him in a moment. Just take away that bayonet from the soldier that is
asleep on the walls, and give bin a sharp prick with it, and see if he does
not awake." But surely, surely, nobody can have patience with people asleep,
when the enemy surround the walls and are thundering at the gates.
Now, Christians, this is your case. Your life is a life of warfare; the
world, the flesh, and the devil; that hellish trinity, and your poor flesh is
a wretched mudwork behind which to be intrenched. Are you asleep? Asleep,
when Satan has fire-balls of lust to hurl into the windows of your eyes-when
he has arrows of temptation to shoot into your heart-when he has snares into
which to trap your feet? Asleep, when he has undermined your very existence,
and when he is about to apply the match with which to destroy you, unless
sovereign grace prevents? Oh! sleep not, soldier of the cross! To sleep in
war-time is utterly inconsistent. Great Spirit of God forbid that we should
slumber.
But now, leaving the chapter itself, I will give you one or two other reasons
that will, I trust, move Christian people to awake out of their sleep. "Bring
out your dead! Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!" Then comes the
ringing of a bell. What is this? Here is a door marked with a great white
cross. Lord, have mercy upon us! All the houses down that street seem to be
marked with that white death cross. What is this? Here is the grass growing
in the streets; here are Cornhill and Cheapside deserted; no one is found
treading the solitary pavement there is not a sound to be heard but those
horse-hoofs like the hoofs of death's pale horse upon the stones, the ringing
of that bell that sounds the death-knell to many, and the rumbling of the
wheels of that cart, and the dreadful cry, "Bring out your dead! Bring out
your dead! Bring out your dead!" Do you see that house? A physician lives
there. He is a man who has great skill, and God has lent him wisdom. But a
little while ago, whilst in his study, God was pleased to guide his mind, and
he discovered the secret of the plague. He was plague-smitten himself, and
ready to die; but he lifted the blessed phial to his lips, and he drank a
draught and cured himself. Do you believe what I am about to tell you? Can
you imagine it? That man has the prescription that will heal all these
people; he has it in his pocket. He has the medicine which, if once
distributed in those streets, would make the sick rejoice, and put that dead
man's bell away. And he is asleep! he is asleep! He is asleep! O ye heavens!
why do ye not fall and crush the wretch? O earth! how couldst thou bear this
demon upon thy bosom? Why not swallow him up quick? He has the medicine; he
is too lazy to go and tell forth the remedy. He has the cure, and is too idle
to go out and administer it to the sick and the dying! No, my friends, such
an inhuman wretch could not exist! But I can see him here to-day. There are
you! You know the world is sick with the plague of sin, and you yourself have
been cured by the remedy which has been provided. You are asleep, inactive,
loitering. You do not go forth to
"Tell to others round,
What a dear Saviour you have found."
There is the precious gospel; you do not go and put it to the lips of a
sinner. There is the all-precious blood of Christ; you never go to tell the
dying what they must do to be saved. The world is perishing with worse than
plague: and you are idle! And you are a minister of the gospel; and you have
taken that holy office upon yourself; and you are content to preach twice on
a Sunday, and once on a weekday, and there is no remonstrance within you. You
never desire to attract the multitudes to hear you preach; you had rather
keep your empty benches, and study propriety, than you would once, at the
risk of appearing over-zealous, draw the multitude and preach the word to
them. You are a writer; you have great power in writing; you devote your
talents alone to light literature, or to the production of other things which
may furnish amusement, but which can not benefit the soul. You know the
truth, but you do not tell it out. Yonder mother is a converted woman: you
have children, and you forget to instruct them in the way to heaven. You,
yonder, are a young man, having nothing to do on the Sabbath-day, and there
is the Sunday school; you do not go to tell those children the sovereign
remedy that God has provided for the cure of sick souls. The death-bell is
ringing even now; hell is crying out, howling with hunger for the souls of
men. "Bring out the sinner! Bring out the sinner! Bring out the sinner! Let
him die and be damned!" And there are you, professing to be a Christian, and
doing nothing which might make you the instrument of saving souls-never
putting out your hand to be the means in the hand of the Lord, of plucking
sinners as brands from the burning! Oh! May the blessing of God rest on you,
to turn you from such an evil way, that you may not sleep as do others, but
may watch and be sober. The world's eminent danger demands that we should be
active and not be slumbering.
Hark how the mast creaks! See the sails there, rent to ribbons. Breakers
ahead! She will be on the rocks directly. Where is the captain? Where is the
boatswain? Where are the sailors? Ahoy there! Where are you? Here's a storm
come on. Where are you? You are down in the cabin. And there is the captain
in a soft sweet slumber. There is the man at the wheel, as sound asleep as
ever he can be; and there are all the sailors in their hammocks. What! and
the breakers ahead? What! the lives of two hundred passengers in danger, and
here are these brutes asleep? Kick them out. What is the good of letting such
men as these be sailors, in such a time as this especially? Why, out with
you! If you had gone to sleep in fine weather we might have forgiven you. Up
with you, captain! What have you been at? Are you mad? But hark! the ship has
struck; she will be down in a moment. Now you will work, will you? Now you
will work, when it is of no use, and when the shrieks of drowning women shall
toll you into hell for your most accursed negligence, in not having taken
care of them. Well, that is very much line a great many of us, in these times
too.
This proud ship of our commonwealth is reeling in a storm of sin; the very
mast of this great nation is creaking under the hurricane of vice that sweeps
across the noble vessel; every timber is strained, and God help the good
ship, or alas! none can save her. And who are her captain and her sailors,
but ministers of God, the professors of religion? These are they to whom God
gives grace to steer the ship. "Ye are the salt of the earth;" ye preserve
and keep it alive, O children of God. Are ye asleep in the storm? Are ye
slumbering now? If there were no dens of vice, if there were no harlots, if
there were no houses of profanity, if there were no murders and no crimes,
oh! ye that are the salt of the earth, ye might sleep; but to-day the sin of
London crieth in the ears of God. This behemoth city is covered with crime,
and God is vexed with her. And are we asleep, doing nothing? Then God forgive
us! But sure of all the sins he ever doth forgive, this is the greatest, the
sin of slumbering when a world is damning-the sin of being idle when Satan is
busy, devouring the souls of men. "Brethren, let us not sleep" in such times
as these; for if we do, a curse must fall upon us, horrible to bear.
There is a poor prisoner in a cell. His hair is all matted, over his eyes. A
few weeks ago the judge put on the black cap, and commanded that he should be
taken to the place from whence he came, and hung by the neck until dead. The
poor wretch has his heart broken within him, whilst he thinks of the pinion,
of the gallows, and of the drop, and of after-death. . O! who can tell how
his heart is rent and racked, whilst he thinks of leaving all, and going he
knoweth not where! There is a man there, sound asleep upon a bed. He has been
asleep there these two days, and under his pillow he has that prisoners free
pardon. I would horsewhip that scoundrel, horsewhip him soundly, for making
that poor man have two days of extra misery. Why, if I had had that man's
pardon, I would have been there, if I rode on the wings of lightning to get
at him, and I should have thought the fastest train that ever run but slow,
if I had so sweet a message to carry, and such a poor heavy heart to carry it
to. But that man, that brute, is sound asleep, with a free pardon under his
pillow, whilst that poor wretch's heart is breaking with dismay! Ah! do not
be too hard with him: he is here today. Side by side with you this morning
there is sitting a poor penitent sinner; God has pardoned him, and intends
that you should tell him that good news. He sat by your side last Sunday, and
he wept all the sermon through, for he felt his guilt. If you had spoken to
him then, who can tell? He might have had comfort; but there he is now-you do
not tell him the good news. Do you leave that to me to do? Ah! sirs, but you
can not serve God by proxy; what the minister does is nought to you; you have
your own personal duty to do, and God has given you a precious promise. It is
now on your heart. Will you not turn round to your next neighbor, and tell
him that promise? O! there is many an aching heart that aches because of our
idleness in telling the good news of this salvation. "Yes," says one of my
members, who always comes to this place on a Sunday, and looks out for young
men and young women whom he has seen in tears the Sunday before, and who
brings many into the church, "yes, I could tell you a story. He looks a young
man in the face, and says, "Haven't I seen you here a great many times?" "
Yes." "I think you take a deep interest in the service, do you not?" "Yes, I
do: what makes you ask me that question?" "Because I looked at your face last
Sunday, and I thought there was something at work with you." "O! sir," he
says, "nobody has spoken to me ever since I have been here till now, and I
want to say a word to you. When I was at home with my mother, I used to think
I had some idea of religion; but I came away, and was bound apprentice with
an ungodly lot of youths, and have done everything I ought not to have done.
And now, sir, I begin to weep, I begin to repent. I wish to God that I knew
how I might be saved! I hear the word preached, sir, but I want something
spoken personally to me by somebody." And he turns round; he takes him by the
hand and says, "My dear young brother, I am so glad I spoke to you; it makes
my poor old heart rejoice to think that the Lord is doing something here
still. Now, do not be cast down; for you know, "This is a faithful saying,
and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners.'" The young man puts his handkerchief to his eyes, and after a
minute, he says, "I wish you would let me call and see you, sir." " O! you
may," he says. He talks with him, he leads him onward, and at last by God's
grace the happy youth comes forward and declares what God has done for his
soul, and owes his salvation as much to the humble instrumentality of the man
that helped him as he could do to the preaching of the minister.
Beloved brethren, the bridegroom cometh! Awake! Awake! The earth must soon be
dissolved, and the heavens must melt! Awake! Awake! O Holy Spirit arouse us
all, and keep us awake.
III. And now I have no time for the last point, and therefore I shall not
detain you. Suffice me to say in warning, there is AN EVIL HERE LAMENTED.
There are some that are asleep, and the apostle mourns it.
My fellow sinner, thou that art this day unconverted, let me say six or seven
sentences to thee, and thou shalt depart. Unconverted man! unconverted woman!
you are asleep today, as they that sleep on the top of the mast in time of
storm; you are asleep, as he that sleeps when the water-floods are out, and
when his house is undermined, and being carried down the stream far out to
sea; you are asleep, as he who in the upper chamber, when his house is
burning and his own locks are singeing in the fire, knows not the devastation
around him; you are asleep-asleep as he that lies upon the edge of a
precipice, with death and destruction beneath him. One single start in his
sleep would send him over, but he knows it not. Thou art asleep this day; and
the place where thou steepest has so frail a support that when once it breaks
thou shalt fall into hell: and if thou wakest not till then, what a waking it
will be! "In hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment;" and he cried for
a drop of water, but it was denied him. "He that believeth in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and is baptized shall be saved; he that believeth not shall be
damned." This is the gospel. Believe ye in Jesus, and ye shall "rejoice with
joy unspeakable and full of glory."
Provided by:
Tony Capoccia
Bible Bulletin Board
Box 314
Columbus, NJ, USA 08022
Internet: www.biblebb.com
....online since 1986
