The Great Difference in the Two Advents of Christ

By / Dec 22

Spurgeon lived during a time when the doctrine of the incarnation was being challenged. With the growth of German higher criticism, the authority and trustworthiness of Scripture were increasingly being questioned. The translation of David Strauss’ The Life of Jesus into English in 1846 led many to adopt a rationalistic understanding of the Gospels, stripping it of its supernatural elements. For them, the incarnation was no longer the miraculous joining of the eternal Son of God with our humanity. Instead, it was simply mythical language pointing to the disciples’ high view of their rabbi. Even as Christmas grew in cultural popularity, its meaning was increasingly lost.

But Spurgeon would have none of this. Even as he led his church in celebrating Christmas, Spurgeon made sure that this was a celebration rooted in doctrine. They rejoiced in the arrival of the Son of God, the miracle of the incarnation for their salvation. Jesus was no ordinary man. He is the Word made flesh. And His first coming lays a claim on our lives because He is coming back again.

On his first Christmas Sunday at the newly-built Metropolitan Tabernacle in 1861, Spurgeon drove this point home as he chose Hebrews 9:27-28 for his Christmas sermon text: “And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment, so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.”

His takeaway was this: to understand Christ’s midnight birth rightly, we must see it in the radiance of his second coming. Even as we adore the Savior-infant in the manger, we must recognize He is also the coming Judge and King. What difference would it make in our Christmas celebration if we kept both advents in view?

Consider, then, four ways his second coming will be different from his first.

“How different I say will be his coming.”

At first he came an infant of a span long; now he shall come— “In rainbow-wreath and clouds of storm,” the glorious one.

Then he entered into a manger, now he shall ascend his throne.

Then he sat upon a woman’s knees, and did hang upon a woman’s breast, now earth shall be at his feet and the whole universe shall hang upon his everlasting shoulders.

Then he appeared the infant, now the infinite.

Then he was born to trouble as the sparks fly upward, now he comes to glory as the lightning from one end of heaven to the other.

A stable received him then; now the high arches of earth and heaven shall be too little for him.

Horned oxen were then his companions, but now the chariots of God which are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels, shall be at his right hand.

Then in poverty his parents were too glad to receive the offerings of gold and frankincense and myrrh; but now in splendor,

King of kings, and Lord of lords, all nations shall bow before him, and kings and princes shall pay homage at his feet. Still he shall need nothing at their hands, for he will be able to say, “If I were hungry I would not tell ye, for the cattle are mine upon a thousand hills.” “Thou hast put all things under his feet; all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field.” “The earth is the Lords, and the fullness thereof.”

“There will be a most distinct and apparent difference in his person.”

He will be the same, so that we shall be able to recognize him as the Man of Nazareth, but O how changed!

Where now the carpenter’s smock? Royalty hath now assumed its purple.

Where now the toil-worn feet that needed to be washed after their long journeys of mercy? They are sandaled with light, they “are like unto fine brass as if they burned in a furnace.”

Where now the cry, “Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but I, the Son of Man, have not where to lay my head?” Heaven is his throne; earth is his foot-stool.

Methinks in the night visions, I behold the day dawning. And to the Son of Man there is given “dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages, should serve him.” Ah! who would think to recognize in the weary man and full of woes, the King eternal, immortal, invisible. Who would think that the humble man, despised and rejected, was the seed-corn out of which there should grow that full corn in the ear,

Christ all-glorious, before whom the angels veil their faces and cry, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth!” He is the same, but yet how changed!

Ye that despised him, will ye despise him now? Imagine the judgment-day has come, and let this vast audience represent the gathering of the last dreadful morning. Now ye who despised his cross, come forward and insult his throne! Now ye who said he was a mere man, come near and resist him, while he proves himself to be your Creator! Now, ye who said, “We will not have this man to reign over us,” say it now if you dare; repeat now if you dare your bold presumptuous defiance! What! are ye silent? Do you turn your backs and flee? Verily, verily, so was it said of you of old. They that hate him shall flee before him. His enemies shall lick the dust. They shall cry to the rocks to cover them, and to the hills to hide them from his face. How changed, I say, will he be in the appearance of his person.

“But the difference will be more apparent in the treatment which he will then receive.“

Alas, my Lord, thy reception on earth the first time was not such as would tempt thee here again. “All they that see me laugh me to scorn; they thrust out—the lip; they say, He trusted in God that he would deliver him, let him deliver him if he delighteth in him; I am become a reproach; the song of the drunkard, a by-word and a proverb.” “When we shall see him, there is no beauty in him that we should desire him.” This was the world’s opinion of God’s Anointed. So they did salute Jehovah’s Christ when he came the first time.

Blind world, open thine eyes while the thunder-claps of judgment make thee start up in terror and amazement, and look about thee. This is the man in whom thou couldst see no beauty darest thou say the same of him now? His eyes are like flames of fire, and out of his mouth goeth a two-edged sword; his head and his hair are white like wool, as white as snow, and his feet like much fine gold. How glorious now! How different now the world’s opinion of him! Bad men weep and wail because of him. Good men cry, “All hail! all hail! all hail!” and clap their hands, and bow their heads, and leap for joy. Around him an innumerable company of angels wait; cherubim and seraphim with glowing wheels attend at his feet, and ever unto him they continually, continually, continually do cry, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts.”

Let us suppose again that the judgment-day has come, and let us challenge the world to treat the Savior as it did before. Now, then, crowds, come and drag him down, to hurl him from the hill headlong! Step forward, ye Pharisees, and tempt him, and try to entangle him in his words. Herodians, have ye no penny now, that ye may ask him a difficult question to entrap him? What, Sadducees, have ye no riddles left? Aha! aha! laugh at the Scribes and at the wise men; see how the wise Man of Nazareth hath confounded them all. See how the sufferer hath put to nought the persecutors! Come Judas, arch-traitor, sell him for thirty pieces of silver! Come and give him another kiss and play the traitor o’er again! Pilate, come forward and wash thy hands in innocency and say,” I am clear of the blood of this just person!”

See ye to it ye fathers of the Sanhedrim, wake from your long slumbers and say again, if ye dare, “This man blasphemeth.” Smite him on the cheek ye soldiers; buffet him again ye praetorians. Set him once more in the chair and spit into his face. Weave your thorn-crown and put it on his head, and put the reed into his right hand. What! have ye ne’er an old cloak to cast about his shoulders again? What, have ye no songs, no ribald jests, and is there not a man among you that dareth now to pluck his hair? No, see them how they flee! Their loins are loosed; the shields of the mighty have been cast to the winds. Their courage has failed them; the brave Romans have turned cowards, and the haughty bulls of Bashan have hastened away from their pastures. And now ye Jews cry, “Away with him,” now let his blood be on you and on your children. Now come forward ye ribald crew, and mock him as ye did upon the cross. Point to his wounds; jeer at his nakedness; mock ye his thirst; revile his prayer; stand ye and thrust out your tongues, and insult his agonies if ye dare. Ye did it once! ‘Tis the same person; do it over again.

But, no; they throw themselves upon their faces and there goeth up from the assembled mass a wail such as earth never heard before, not even in the day when Mizraim’s children felt the angel’s sword, and, weeping worse than ever than was known in Bochim, hotter tears than Rachel shed when she would not be comforted for her children. Weep on, ‘tis too late for your sorrow now. Oh! if there had been the tear of penitence before, there had not been the weeping of remorse now. Oh! if there had been the glancing of the eye of faith, there had not been the blasting and the scorching of your eyes with horrors that shall utterly consume you. Christ comes, I say, to be treated very differently from the treatment he received before.

“He will come again for a very different purpose.”

He came the first time with, “I delight to do thy will O God.” He comes a second time to claim the reward and to divide the spoil with the strong.

He came the first time with a sin-offering; that offering having been once made, there is no more sacrifice for sin. He comes the second time to administer righteousness.

He was righteous at his first coming, but it was the righteousness of allegiance. He shall be righteous at his second coming with the righteousness of supremacy.

He came to endure the penalty, he comes to procure the reward.

He came to serve, he comes to rule.

He came to open wide the door of grace, he comes to shut to the door.

He comes not to redeem but to judge; not to save but to pronounce the sentence; not to weep while he invites, but to smile while he rewards; not to tremble in heart while he proclaims grace, but to make others tremble while he proclaims their doom.

Oh Jesu! how great the difference between thy first and thy second Advent!

Read the full sermon here.



Spurgeon’s Heart-Knowledge of God: The Necessity of This Knowledge (III of V)

By / Oct 30

From a sermon delivered on December 6th, 1874, by C.H. Spurgeon, published in the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, No. 1206, Pgs. 836-850.

“I will give them a heart to know that I am the LORD, and they shall be my people and I will be their God…” – Jeremiah 24:7

See Part I here and Part II here.

Introduction

Why is it necessary for man to have a heart-knowledge of God? Spurgeon writes, “The knowledge of God is at once the beginning and the end of wisdom.”[1] In other words, without a right relationship with God, what is perceived as truth becomes distorted. In knowing God, however, all matters of life are placed into their rightful order and perspective. When considering the necessity of knowing God, there are two key points addressed by Spurgeon. First, this knowledge is necessary for all other true knowledge, and second, this knowledge is necessary for man to have a spiritual life. It is in knowing God that we can distinguish truth from error and discover the One through whom any meaningful spiritual life may be found.

Knowing God and All True Knowledge

Having a heart-knowledge of God is necessary because truth in all matters of life is given by his hand. As is commonly paraphrased from Augustine, “All truth is God’s truth.” God is the origin of truth in its fullest and purest form and the absolute standard by which all other truth is to be measured. Scripturally, we see that Jesus is the Truth (John 14:6), God’s word is truth (John 17:17), God does not lie (Num. 23:19), and He does not tempt anyone (James 1:13). Any truth to be found is of God. Knowledge, outside of knowing God, however, can have consequences. Spurgeon writes, “We must know God, or our other knowledge may be dangerous to others, and certainly will be hurtful to ourselves; it will puff us up, or load us with responsibilities which we shall not be able to meet.”[2] Outside of a right knowledge of God, what we perceive to be truth can, in reality, be far from it. “For the highest and most practical purposes, without the knowledge of God, we abide in utter ignorance.”[3] Therefore, the knowledge of God is necessary for a right understanding of truth in all matters of life. Knowing God doesn’t mean that our knowledge becomes infallible. Rather, the Christian worldview is the only one that provides a right standard of truth and a right perspective of the world. This can only be found through having a heart to know God.

“To know God is a needful preparation for every other true knowledge, because the Lord is the center of the universe, the basis, the pillar, the essential force, the all in all, the fullness of all things. Not to know God is as if a student should attempt to construct a system of astronomy and be altogether ignorant of the sun, or a mariner should be a stranger to the sea, or a husbandman should not know the existence of seeds. The place which God occupies must be settled in our minds or we shall have no arrangement in our knowledge, and our science will be nothing but a conglomeration of truth and error.”[4]

Knowing God and the Spiritual Life

Next, Spurgeon leads us to see that a heart-knowledge of God is necessary for man to have a spiritual life. He raises the question, “That this knowledge of God is necessary is clear, for how could it be possible for a man to have spiritual life and yet not to know God?”[5] The idea of being spiritual but not having that spirituality rooted in God seems to be increasingly prevalent in our day. But this idea was not foreign in Spurgeon’s day. It has always been common for people to refer to themselves as being spiritual but grounding that spirituality in their imagination. However, unless one’s spirituality is rooted in the one true God, it will always fall short in every respect and carry with it no eternal significance. John 17:3 says, “And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” A spiritual life only leads to eternal life if it knows Christ and the only true God. Further, Spurgeon writes, “The knowledge of God is an absolute and necessary concomitant of the spiritual life, without which we cannot see or enter into the kingdom of heaven.”[6] Given a heart-knowledge of God by the Spirit, man has all that is necessary in Christ to live eternally with the Father in Heaven. God must be the one in whom our spirituality is founded. 

While this knowledge is necessary for eternal life, it is not without practical application in man’s daily life. A man who lives his life apart from God is prone to wander, but a man whose life is lived under Christ’s Lordship finds straight and well-lit paths for himself. As Solomon writes, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” (Prov. 3:5-6) In knowing God, man grows to know himself better. He can recognize how far off he is from the perfect standard that has been set before him in Christ and how dependent on God he must be to follow it. Spurgeon puts it this way,

“I venture to say that no man rightly knows himself till he knows his God, because it is by the light and purity of God that we see our own darkness and sinfulness. There must be a perfect model before us before we can discern our own departures from perfection. You must have a standard by which to weigh yourself or you cannot tell whether you are wanting or no: God is the standard, and until a man knows the standard he does not know how far he himself has fallen short of it.”[7]

Concluding Remarks

For man to experience any lasting peace, he must know the God by Whom he was created. “There is no peace in the heart while God is unknown. He is the God of peace, and there can be no peace till the soul knows him.”[8] Through knowing God, our understanding of truth is solidly grounded, both in its source and the standard by which it is measured. Given a new heart, man is enabled by the Spirit to distinguish truth from error and follow the straight path in life into eternity. Ultimately, the knowledge of God is necessary for man to have a spiritual life of any significance, and he is the only one in whom eternal life may be found. Has the necessity of the heart-knowledge of God become clear in your life?

[1] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 843.

[2] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 843.

[3] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 843.

[4] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 843.

[5] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 844.

[6] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 844.

[7] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 843.

[8] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 844.

Jaron Button is a Th.M. student at Midwestern Seminary in Kansas City, MO. He serves as a Research Assistant for Dr. Chang and The Spurgeon Center, and as Corporal for Midwestern Seminary’s campus security. He is married to Tiffany and together they are members of Northtown Trinity Church in North Kansas City, MO.



Acta Non Verba

By / Oct 9

This article comes from the January 1873 edition of The Sword and The Trowel magazine.

Introduction

Christians are not to just be hearers of the word but doers. From Spurgeon’s perspective, to love the Word of God is to do and live the Word of God. “Acta Non Verba,” by C.H. Spurgeon, laments the Christian’s lack of motivation for Christlike service. As Spurgeon says, those who “teach the ignorant, feed the hungry, and reclaim the lost,” are practicing faithful Christlike service. The church’s need does not lay at the feet of men with eloquent speech but of those who are affected by the gospel and “live it.” “ACTA NON VERBA,”—Deeds not Words.

Acta Non Verba

A CHURCH, in the United States, lately advertised for a minister, and stated that, having been for some years over done with eloquence, they desired a pastor who would preach to them the gospel of Jesus Christ: there are churches on this side of the Atlantic, sickened with essays and “intellectual treats,” whose aspirations are much of the same kind. Fine language amuses the ear, as the tinkling of their little bells pleases the continental coach-horses, but it cannot satisfy the soul any more than the aforesaid tintinabulations can supply the place of corn and hay. The art of arranging words, and balancing sentences, is a mental jugglery, as astonishing when perfectly practiced, as the feats of the Chinese or Japanese artistes who just lately have charmed vast audiences at the Crystal Palace; but cui bono? what is the good of it, and who is the better for it? Who was ever convinced of sin by an oratorical flourish? What heart was led to Jesus, and to joy and peace in believing, by a fine passage resplendent with all the graces of diction? What chaff is to the wheat, and dross to gold, that is the excellence of human speech to the simplicity of the word of God. For awhile fascinated by the siren voice of vain philosophy and affected culture, many of the churches have drawn perilously near to the rocks of heresy and doubt, but divine grace is visiting them, and they will shake off the spell. Everywhere there is a cry for the gospel, for men who will preach it in the love of it, for ministers who will live it, and inoculate others with its life: the church is growing sick of essayists, and asks for men of God. She is weary of word-spinners, and pretenders to deep thought, and she cries for men full of the Holy Spirit, who are lovers of the word and not speakers only. Soul-winners will soon be in demand, and your genteel essayists will have to carry their dry goods to another market. Sane men do not need fiddlers, while the life-boat is being manned to save yonder perishing ones from the devouring deep.

The intensely practical character of Christianity might be inferred from the life of its founder. In Jesus we see no display, no aiming at effect, nothing spoken or done to decorate or ornament the simplicity of his daily life. True, he was a prophet, mighty in words as well as in deeds; but his words were downright and direct, winged with a purpose, and never uttered for speaking’s sake. Nobody ever looks at Jesus as an orator to be compared with Cicero. “Never man spake like this man.” He was not of the schools. No graver’s tool had passed over his eloquence. In his presence Demosthenes is seen to be a statue, carved with great skill, and the very counterfeit of life; but Jesus is life itself,—not art’s sublimest fac simile of nature, but the living truth. Jesus, whether speaking or acting, was still practical. His words were but the wings of his deeds. He went about, not discoursing upon benevolence, but “doing good;” he itinerated not to stir up a missionary spirit, but “to preach glad-tidings to the poor.” Where others theorized he wrought, where they planned he achieved, where they despaired he triumphed. Compared with him, our existence is a mere windbag; his life was solid essential action, and ours a hazy dream, an unsubstantial would-be which yet is not. Most blessed Son of the Highest, thou who workest evermore, teach us also how to begin to live, ere we have stumbled into our graves while prating about purposes and resolves!

The first champions of the cross were also men in whom the truth displayed itself in deeds rather than in words. Paul’s roll of labors and of sufferings would contrast strangely with the diary of a reader of pretty little sermonettes; or, for the matter of that, with the biography of the most zealous among us. The apostles were intensely active, rather than intellectually refined; they made no pretense to be philosophers, but thought it sufficient to be servants of Jesus Christ. Their hearers remembered them, not because they had melodiously warbled sweet nothings into their ears; but because they spoke in the demonstration of the Spirit and in the power of God. They were no mystics, but workmen; not elocutionists, but laborers. We track them by the cities which they evangelized, the churches which they founded, the tribes which they converted to Christ. By some means or other, they came to grapple with the world hand to hand, whereas the good men of these times do anything but that: they tell us what was done of old, what should be done now, and what will be done in the millenium, but they themselves mingle not in the fray. Where are the heroic combats of the first ages of the faith? Where hear we the din of real fighting? We see shaking of fists, feints, and challengings in abundance, but of downright blows there is a lamentable scarcity; the modern battle of church and world is too frequently a mere stage imitation, a sham fight of the most wretched order. See the combatants of those days—a whole-souled fight was theirs. The world, like a veteran gladiator, defied the young combatant with fierce terms of hate, and gazed upon him with tiger-like ferocity, determined to wash his hands in the intruder’s blood; while the church quailed not in the presence of her savage opponent, but avowed her determination to make no terms with sin, and accept no truce with idolatry. They meant fighting, and they fought! A divine of the modern school is of opinion that the lines have faded considerably between what is known as the church and the world, arising from a mutual movement towards each other; we cannot look upon this fact with the complacency which he manifests, but we are compelled to observe and lament it. Many professors play at being Christians; they are not real in their church-membership, not in very deed separate from sinners, or devoted to the service of God; hence the world has no care to oppose them, and leaves them utterly ignorant of the very meaning of the word “persecution.” Of course, if we never rebuke the world’s sin, nor bear witness against its follies, it will have no cause of offense, and will leave us unassailed. The apostles’ blows were laid on with a will, and left their impress where they fell. Fussy officials they were not; pompous dignitaries they could not be; but real workmen of the Lord they evidently were; hence their power under God to move their age, and all succeeding ages.

The marks by which, according to the Scriptures, genuine believers are to be known, are very matter-of-fact tokens. “By their fruits shall ye know them,” is a pretty plain intimation that no amount of profession or religious talk can evidence godliness, if holy actions be absent. At the last great day, the blessed of the Father are not represented as having advocated the relief of the poor, but as having actually fed the hungry. No mention is made of writers upon the inspection of gaols, or the suppression of mendacity; but a hearty word of praise is given to those who visited the prisoner and gave drink to the thirsty. The main point seems to have been the real and actual doing of good; whatever went with it is cast into the scale without mention, as being comparatively insignificant. True faith proves itself not by its boastings, but by its effect upon the life of its possessor.

Here is the bone of contention which the earnest man will have with himself. We know what we ought to be, but are we all that? Our neighbors perish for lack of the gospel, but do we carry it to them? The poor swarm around us, in what measure do we feed them? They would be well enough off if good intentions and excellent suggestions could clothe and feed them, but as it is, they derive small benefit from us. To know how to do good, and to leave it undone, is no small sin. Accountability grows with the amount of information. Mountains of lead ought to press down consciences which now lie at ease in the bosoms of men of great powers, who have eloquently proclaimed duties which they do not touch with one of their fingers; nor much less should be the discomfort of those who have again and again resolved upon duties which they have never yet performed. They own their obligations to the poor, but no orphan is fed by their help: they lament the ignorance of the people, but no ministry is aided by their gifts; they long to see zealous evangelists sent forth, but no student is succored by their bounty. Alas! for the piety which ends in feelings and words! It is vain as the foam of the sea!

Everywhere the evil is the same. Saying over-rides doing. One of the most evident weaknesses of most religious societies is a lack of practical common sense. They are great in red tape, rich in committees, and positively gorgeous with presidents and vice-presidents, and secretaries, and honorary secretaries, and minute secretaries, etc., etc.; but what comes of it all? We behold a fine display of wooden cannon and pasteboard soldiery, but conquests there are none. There will be a sub-committee on Tuesday, and surely something will come of it; or, if not, the quarterly board-meeting will doubtless work wonders:—no, there will be cackling and cackling, but of eggs none—or addled. In many of our denominational conferences resolutions are picked over word by word, as if every syllable might conceal a heresy; amendments are moved, seconded, re-amended, fought for valorously, or withdrawn; hours are spent, and lung force without stint, and what comes of the parturition of the mountain? Has the pitiful mouseling strength enough to crawl across the floor of the assembly? If any holy project needs putting out of the world in a legal fashion, so that no charge of willful murder shalt be laid against any one of its destroyers, consign it to a committee: it will have every care and loving attention, and the soothing syrup will be of the most excellent quality. If, perchance, the thing of beauty remain among us, it will be a joy for ever; never viciously fanatical, or vehemently enthusiastic, but, clothed in a regulation strait-waistcoat, its life will be spent within those sacred bounds which officialism is inspired to prescribe. If it be asked to which or what society we refer, our reply must be, “Let every dog follow its own master:” to some more, and to some less, our strictures apply. In general, a society is a creature of the imagination, a group of shades impalpable, a collection of names without persons; if its business be well worked, the credit is due to one or two worthy men, who are, in fact, the society; if it be badly managed, it is because it is nobody’s business, being generally understood to be everybody’s. The fault does not lie in the principle of association—which is excellent—but in the everlasting overlaying of the hand by the jaw: the mistaking words for actions, speeches for service. A dozen or two General Grants, eloquently silent, would form a fine board of management; men who can give, and work, and pray, are worth a hundred times as much as those who can compose resolutions, cavil over expressions, move the previous question, discuss and re-discuss, till all is blue-moulded or green with verdigris. Not that we would kill off the talkers, we are not intent upon signing our own death-warrant; but a little gentle choking of those who will neither be quiet nor practically helpful, we humbly venture to prescribe. The fact is, we don’t get at the work before us. The drowning heathen lies at the bottom of the pond, and our drags do not touch the body, much less fetch it to shore. The ignorant masses around us glide from our fingers like slippery eels, we have not learned the nack of holding them. We seem to be bobbing after our great objects like boys trying to bite at apples which swim in a tub of water. We are planning, suggesting, arranging; but when are we going to begin? For scores of years we have been tuning up: when will the music commence? So much time is spent in chopping the chaff, and bruising the oats, that poor Bucephalus is getting lean as Rosinante.

Gentle reader, has no self-accusing thought crossed your mind while trying to keep yourself awake over these lines? No; you are really active, and by no means loquacious. It is well! All honor to you! But where do you live, and of what mother were you born, and what is your age next birthday? The writer inquires eagerly, and will be glad if you should turn out to be one of a numerous family. Our own confession tells no such flattering story. We have, by God’s grace, done something, but how little! It is as nothing! Compared with high resolves, and day-dreams, and proposals, what are our achievements? Tears are the fittest comments upon our life’s review. We long to begin to live. We have loitered long, like too many more, and work undone accuses and condemns us. Shall we write about it, or from the pulpit pour out a verbal plaint which will die away with its own echo? No; but if God will help us we will try to glorify him, and publish his salvation. To lift up Christ is real work; to cry “Behold the Lamb!” is practical ministry. To teach the ignorant, to feed the hungry, to reclaim the lost, this is Christlike service. What is all else, if we serve not the Lord Christ?

For the year 1873 we suggest the motto, “ACTA NON VERBA,”—Deeds not Words.



Spurgeon’s Heart-Knowledge of God: The Seat of This Knowledge (II of V) 

By / Oct 2

From a sermon delivered on December 6th, 1874, by C.H. Spurgeon, published in the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, No. 1206, Pgs. 836-850.

“I will give them a heart to know that I am the LORD, and they shall be my people and I will be their God…” – Jeremiah 24:7

See Part I here and Part III here.

Introduction

Though natural revelation is insufficient to bring us to a saving knowledge of himself, God, in his plan of redemption, has established an even more glorious way: the regenerating work of the Spirit made possible through the sacrificial work of Christ. Spurgeon believed that this saving knowledge of God rested in the heart. However, man’s heart has been spiritually blinded by his sin. Therefore, the Holy Spirit must shine into his heart, renewing within him a right knowledge of God. This is the permanent work of regeneration, whereby the Spirit changes the heart of the believer, provides him with the desire to call upon the Lord, and creates a deep affection for the Lord. But how can we know if we have experienced this work of the Spirit? In the sermon, “Heart-Knowledge of God,” Spurgeon gives us four evidences of God’s work upon our hearts.  

The Heart as the Organ of Knowledge

The heart is represented in Scripture as the organ of knowledge and where our spiritual life is seated. One clear example of this is in Romans 10:10, where Paul says, “For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” To believe is to know, and just as with the heart one believes, so also with the heart one knows. Additionally, we are taught these truths elsewhere in Scripture concerning matters of the heart: the heart is where God’s love has been poured into through the Holy Spirit (Rom. 5:5); out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks (Mat. 12:34); God has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God (2 Cor. 4:6); circumcision is a matter of the heart (Rom. 2:29); our adorning ought to be the hidden person of the heart (1 Pet. 3:4); and that we may gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12).

The heart, therefore, is the seat of the spiritual life and the seat of the knowledge of God. Furthermore, Spurgeon understood the heart to be man’s essential self. He writes, “The heart is the true man; it is the very citadel of the City of Mansoul; it is the fountain and reservoir of manhood, and all the rest of man may be compared to the many pipes which run from the fountain through the streets of a city.”[1] Man’s intellect, will, and emotions are all found to be rooted in and flow out of the heart. The heart is the innermost being, the self, and to be given a new heart is to be given a new self. A heart of flesh is a new creation; from it arises a new man with new dispositions and a new nature. This heart is given the Holy Spirit-enabled power to put away the old self that is corrupt with deceitful desires and the power to put on the new self that is created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness (Eph. 4:22-24). Having set the stage for understanding the heart as the seat of this knowledge, let’s proceed to unpack four aspects of it as understood by Spurgeon. These include admiration, appropriation, affection, and adhesion. 

Admiration

The greater our understanding of the sinful nature that resides within us, the greater our admiration of God, who is wholly different from us. With a heart of stone, man suppresses the knowledge of God and is hardened toward his perfect being, but given a heart of flesh, man is renewed to a right understanding of God and thereby admires his character and attributes. The Lord declares in Isaiah 55:8-9, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” The man with a new heart admires God, whose ways and thoughts are infinitely higher than his own. God becomes the greatest being of his contemplation and one to whom none other compares. The great distinction between Creator and creature is realized, and with it, his supremacy and providential care over all that exists is cherished. The first aspect of the seat of man’s heart-knowledge of God, therefore, is admiration. Spurgeon writes:

“I understand by the fact that the knowledge of God here promised lies in the heart, first, that God renews the heart so that it admires the character of God. The understanding perceives that God is just, powerful, faithful, wise, true, gracious, longsuffering, and the like; then the heart being purified admires all these glorious attributes, and adores him because of them.”[2]

Appropriation

No matter how great his concept of God may be, man will not be content solely in admiration of Him. Admiration is not enough to fill the void that has left his heart empty. He desires not only the idea of God, as beautiful as he has seen him to be, but God himself. He will find no rest until the presence of God becomes realized; he must appropriate God unto himself and call upon him as Father. By “appropriate,” it means that man who once merely admired the Lord now knows him as the Lord of his life. Only when we enter into communion with God does our longing for something greater become satisfied. We do not rightly know God solely through admiration but through faith, and therefore, we move past admiration to appropriation. 

By appropriation, Spurgeon intends for man not only to approve of the God of Scripture but to cling to him in faith, submit to his Lordship, and make him his God. Man comes to a turning point when the sin that once satisfied him no longer provides fulfillment. Ultimately, he discovers that he is lost without God and, through the work of the Spirit, becomes aware of his need for redemption. Given a new heart, man chooses God over his sin and cherishes Christ as his Savior. What at a time he lacked the power to do, he now, by the Spirit, acknowledges Christ as King and follows him over and against the straying of his heart and the ruler of this world. Regarding appropriation, Spurgeon writes: 

“The heart-knowledge promised in the covenant of grace means, however, much more than approval: grace enables the renewed heart to take another step and appropriate the Lord, saying, ‘O God, thou art my God, early will I seek thee’… The man who only knows the Lord with his head regards him as anybody’s God, or another man’s God; but the man who knows the Lord with his heart exclaims with Thomas, ‘My Lord and my God.’ By an act of appropriating faith the gracious man cries out, ‘The Lord is my portion saith my soul…’”[3]

Affection

In the work of Spurgeon, admiration and appropriation of the Lord lead to affection for him. It is out of our affection for the Lord that we truly begin to know him and experience him. Spurgeon writes, “All true knowledge of God is attended by affection for him. In spiritual language to know God is to love him.”[4] This love brings our disposition from what was once alienated and hostile towards God (Col. 1:21) to that which now seeks to please God. When we are given a new heart, we are given new affections for God – affections that increasingly desire Him and increasingly separate us from our former passions and shallow pursuits. God becomes what is most dear to our hearts. On this new disposition, Spurgeon writes: 

“It is the great passion of the renewed soul to glorify God, whom he knows and loves; knowledge without love would be a powerless thing, but God has joined this knowledge and love together in a sacred wedlock, and they can never be put asunder. As we love God we know him, and as we know him we love him.”[5]

Adhesion

Lastly, admiration, appropriation, and affection are made permanent by adhesion. To know something by heart is to know something thoroughly, assuredly, and rightly. It is to know something at such a level that it is not easily forgotten. On the depth of this knowledge, Spurgeon writes, “That which is learned in the head may be unlearned, for our understanding is very fickle and our memory frail, but that which is written upon the heart cannot be erased.”[6] To have a heart-knowledge of God is one that can never be taken away; it is an abiding knowledge that will remain to our final day. In the words of Spurgeon, “Memories of the heart abide when all others depart.”[7] The man of faith can be assured that as the knowledge of the mind decays, the knowledge of the heart will stay. On the permanency of this knowledge, Spurgeon writes: 

“If we can sing, ‘O God, my heart is fixed, O my heart is fixed,’ then the knowledge which it possesses will never be taken away from it. To know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, is not a fleeting attainment, but shall abide with us and increase until we know even as we are known. This is not the knowledge which shall vanish away, but that which shall be perfected when the day breaks and the shadows flee away.”[8]

Concluding Remarks 

How about you, dear reader, do you love God? Has your heart come to know him? When speaking of God, love and knowledge are inseparable; the terminology of heart-knowledge interlinks the two. In loving God, you know him, and in knowing God, you love him. The seat of this knowledge we speak of is in the heart because that is the seat of our spiritual life and affections. May the affections of your heart be ever increasingly directed towards the one true God. Looking ahead to Part III, we will uncover the necessity of having a heart-knowledge of God. For now, I will leave you with this quote from Spurgeon to consider, “Where the Lord is fully known he is intensely loved.”[9]

[1] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 13, 50.

[2] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 840.

[3] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 841.

[4] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 841.

[5] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 841-842.

[6] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 842.

[7] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 842.

[8] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 842.

[9] Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 841.

Jaron Button is a Th.M. student at Midwestern Seminary in Kansas City, MO. He serves as a Research Assistant for Dr. Chang and The Spurgeon Center, and as Corporal for Midwestern Seminary’s campus security. He is married to Tiffany and together they are members of Northtown Trinity Church in North Kansas City, MO.



By Grace Are Ye Saved

By / Sep 25

This article comes from the February 1865 edition of The Sword and The Trowel magazine.

Introduction

Debates surrounding the doctrines of grace have gone on for centuries within the universal church. From Spurgeon’s perspective, the problem was simple—men were saved Dei Gratia (by the grace of God). “By Grace Are Ye Saved,” by C.H. Spurgeon, testifies to the reader of the undeserved gift of grace from God. This grace is for those, as Spurgeon says, “who have no worth, no merit, no goodness whatever!”

By Grace Are Ye Saved

IT is by the grace of God that ungodly men are preserved from instant death. The sharp ax of justice would soon fell the barren tree if the interceding voice of Jesus did not cry, “Spare him yet a little.” Many sinners, when converted to God, have gratefully acknowledged that it was of the Lord’s mercy that they were not consumed. John Bunyan had three memorable escapes before his conversion, and mentions them in his “Grace Abounding” as illustrious instances of long-suffering mercy. Occasionally such deliverances are made the means of affecting the heart with tender emotions of love to God, and grief for having offended him. Should it not be so? Ought we not to account that the longsuffering of God is salvation?  (2 Peter 3:15.) An officer during a battle was struck by a nearly spent ball near his waistcoat pocket, but he remained uninjured, for a piece of silver stopped the progress of the deadly missile. The coin was marked at the words DEI GRATIA (by the grace of God). This providential circumstance deeply impressed his mind, and led him to read a tract which a godly sister had given him when leaving home. God blessed the reading of the tract; and he became, through the rich face of God, a believer in the Lord Jesus.

Reader, are you unsaved? Have you experienced any noteworthy deliverances? Then adore and admire the free grace of God, and pray that it may lead you to repentance! Are you inquiring for the way of life. Remember the words DEI GRATIA, and never forget that by grace we are saved. Grace always pre-supposes unworthiness in its object. The province of grace ceases where merit begins: what a cheering word is this to those of you who have no worth, no merit, no goodness whatever! Crimes are forgiven, and follies are cured by our Redeemer out of mere free favor. The word grace has the same meaning as our common term gratis: Wickliffe’s prayer was, “Lord save me gratis.” No works can purchase or procure salvation, but the heavenly Father giveth freely, and upbraideth not.

Grace comes to us through faith in Jesus. Whosoever believeth on Him is not condemned. O, sinner, may God give thee grace to look to Jesus and live. Look now, for to-day is the accepted time!



Spurgeon’s Heart-Knowledge of God: God’s Revelation and Merciful Intervention Despite Man’s Rebellion (I of V)

By / Sep 18

From a sermon delivered on December 6th, 1874, by C.H. Spurgeon, published in the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, No. 1206, Pgs. 836-850.

“I will give them a heart to know that I am the LORD, and they shall be my people and I will be their God…” – Jeremiah 24:7

See Part II here and Part III here.

Introduction

There is nothing of greater importance to man than that he would know his Creator, a truth very near to the heart of Spurgeon. Over the course of what will be a five-part series, we will be taking an overview look into the necessary doctrine of the knowledge of God. Can we as finite beings truly know the infinite and incomprehensible God? Does God make himself known to all of humanity in the same way? What does it mean to move beyond a surface knowledge of God to, as Spurgeon puts it, a “heart-knowledge of God”? How may we attain such a knowledge?

These crucial questions are what we will be seeking to answer, though briefly, in the journey ahead. We will look first to what God has said to us through his Word as our ultimate authority on these matters, as well as to the help of Spurgeon who offers us useful insight into some key texts on this topic, particularly in his sermon entitled: The Heart-Knowledge of God, delivered on December 6th, 1874. As we explore this weighty subject, may our prayer be that of Paul’s in Ephesians 1:7, “That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ…may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him.” 

God’s Revelation

In laying the groundwork for this series, the question at hand becomes, how can man know his Creator who is incomprehensible through our finite intellect and reasoning? The answer can only be found through God’s revelation of himself to us. God can be known because he has made himself known. God has revealed himself to us. This revelation is perceived through our consciousness in view of God’s creation (Rom. 1:19-20), is sensed within our human conscience through God’s moral law (Rom. 2:14-15), and most significantly, is spoken through the Holy Scriptures (2 Tim. 3:16).

How wonderful it is that God did not create the world and then leave us hopelessly alone without the faculties to perceive his glory! As noted above with reference to Romans 1:19-20, Scripture tells us, “what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world” (Rom. 1:19-20). On knowing God through creation Spurgeon writes:

 “Any man possessed of reason may know that there is a Supreme Being, who created all things and preserves the universe in existence. The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork. The tokens of divine skill and power are so abundant that ‘The invisible things of God from the creation of the world are already seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead.’”[1]

Man’s Distance from God

This knowledge, however, as clearly as it can be perceived through our senses, still leaves man on the outside of a saving knowledge of God; it is insufficient for the task. This is not due to any insufficiency on the part of God or in the ways by which he has revealed himself, but it is due to our sinfulness which has blinded our eyes and rendered us incapable of seeing the absolute beauty of God and cherishing him as we ought. This is the consequence of the sin that has entered the world and that permeates our being. Consumed by it, we naturally suppress the knowledge of the truth and turn away from the God who has made himself known. We want no part of him, and in our sinful delusion, we desire a world without him in it (Rom. 1:18, 21). On suppressing the knowledge of the truth Spurgeon writes:

“The thought of God is distasteful to every guilty man. It would be good news to him if he could be informed, on sure authority, that there was no God at all. He cannot know God, because his whole heart, and mind, and spirit are in such a state that he is incapable of knowing and appreciating the Holy One of Israel. Darkness covers the mind, because sin has blinded the soul to all that is best and holiest. The lover of sin does not know God, and does not want to know him.”[2]

In this state, man not only has a distorted view of God as he reveals himself, but also remains in a position of hostility towards God, the very one by whom his continual existence is owed. Man willfully puts himself at a distance from the living God and lives contrary to his design. Instead of fixing his eyes upon God in adoration, man settles his affections upon objects of his own creation and the worship of self. In this abandonment, God becomes far from man in his sinful state, and correspondingly, man’s heart becomes far from him. Without divine intervention, our own passions and lusts will be continually sought after, and the object of our worship will be set upon created things over and above the Creator of all things (Rom. 1:25). On this distortion of worship Spurgeon writes:

“Man fashions for himself a god after his own liking; he makes to himself if not out of wood or stone, yet out of what he calls his own consciousness, or his cultured thought, a deity to his taste, who will not be too severe with his iniquities or deal out strict justice to the impenitent. He rejects God as he is, and elaborates other gods such as he thinks the Divine One ought to be, and he says concerning these works of his own imagination, ‘These be thy gods, O Israel.’”[3]

God’s Merciful Intervention

The truth of our depravity reveals that the bare knowledge of God, as discussed so far, is of little value towards salvation given mankind’s helpless state. But it also directs us towards a deeper, saving knowledge of God that is of infinite value. Spurgeon notes that, “The knowledge intended here is much deeper than that which comes from observation, and only affects the intellect.”[4] This knowledge of God mentioned is one that finds its root, or seat according to Spurgeon, in the heart. It is a knowledge involving our affections, a change in heart, accompanied by new inclinations. It is through this knowledge alone that we can know truly, though never comprehend fully, the one true God. It is through him alone that this saving knowledge may be imparted to sinners. This knowledge is imparted through divine intervention in the loving condescension of Jesus Christ and the regenerating work of the Spirit upon our hearts. When it is recognized just how far we have distanced ourselves from God in our sin, the beauty and necessity of this intervention becomes increasingly clear.

With this intervention, no matter how far from God your sin has separated you, he has promised in Christ to remove it “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalms 103:12) and count it against you no more. In freeing sinners from their condemnation, God creates a new heart within them by His Spirit. This new heart is one that is capable of knowing him, that desires to draw near unto him, and that is no longer made of hardened stone but of softened flesh (Ezek. 36:26). On this conversion Spurgeon writes:

“The Holy Spirit…when he illuminates their minds, leads us to see that Jehovah is God, and beside him there is none else. He teaches his people to know that the God of heaven and earth is the God of the Bible, a God whose attributes are completely balanced, mercy attended by justice, love accompanied by holiness, grace arrayed in truth, and power linked with tenderness”[5]

Concluding Remarks

As we come to a close in part one of this series, the key takeaway in anticipation for the following articles is this: while God’s natural revelation is insufficient on its own to bring us to a saving heart-knowledge of himself, God in his merciful plan of redemption has established an even more glorious way – the regenerating work of the Spirit made possible through the sacrificial work of Christ. Looking ahead, we will dive deeper into what it means to have a heart-knowledge of God, and how it is that we may attain such a knowledge. For now, let this serve the reader as an introduction to the greatest knowledge that man could ever obtain as we close with this word from Spurgeon:

 “It is not enough to know that our Creator is the Jehovah of the Bible, and that he is perfect in character, and glorious beyond thought: but to know God we must have perceived him, we must have spoken to him, we must have been made at peace with him, we must have lifted up our heart to him, and received communications from him. If you know the Lord your secret is with him, and his secret is with you, he has manifested himself unto you as he does not unto the world. He must have made himself known unto you by the mysterious influences of his Spirit, and because of this you know him.”[6]

[1]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 837.

[2]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 34, 89-90.

[3]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 837.

[4]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 837.

[5]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 837.

[6]Charles Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 20, 838-839.

Jaron Button is a Th.M. student at Midwestern Seminary in Kansas City, MO. He serves as a Research Assistant for Dr. Chang and The Spurgeon Center, and as Corporal for Midwestern Seminary’s campus security. He is married to Tiffany and together they are members of Northtown Trinity Church in North Kansas City, MO.



Spurgeon’s Theology of Baptism

By / Sep 11

In the previous article, I considered how Spurgeon became a credobaptist at an Anglican school of all places, and from the Church of England catechism. A few years later, Spurgeon was baptized in the River Lark by Mr. Cantlow, and we considered his own retelling of that day which was May 3, 1850 from his Autobiography.[1] In this piece, I will consider that account again, drawing out aspects of his baptismal theology.[2]

Convinced, but catholic in spirit

When Spurgeon was baptized as a believer at the age of fifteen, he was acting out of his personal convictions. As he read the Bible, he could not find the paedobaptism he observed his entire life and received as an infant. He writes, “I knew that my father and my grandfather took little children in their arms, put a few drops of water on their faces, and said they were baptized; but I could not see anything in my Bible about babes being baptized.”[3] Such a view placed him squarely in the Baptist tradition. Yet, to be a Baptist was not his highest aim. “If I thought it wrong to be a Baptist,” wrote Spurgeon, “I should give it up, and become what I believed to be right. . . . If we could find infant baptism in the Word of God, we should adopt it.”[4] Thus, above all, Spurgeon desired to be biblical.

While Spurgeon was persuaded of the Baptist teaching, he maintained a catholic spirit towards other believers. On one occasion, Spurgeon’s grandfather wanted to assure that his grandson would “not be one of the tight-laced, strict-communion sort.”[5] The reference here is to those who practice closed communion which barred paedobaptists from the Lord’s Table. Spurgeon assured his grandfather that on this issue, they were in agreement and that each man should follow his own conscience. Open communion was practiced at The New Park Street Chapel and The Metropolitan Tabernacle under Spurgeon’s leadership and paedobaptists who belonged to evangelical churches were welcomed to the Table. Membership, however, remained closed, being available only for those baptized as believers.[6]

The nature of baptism

What was Spurgeon’s understanding of the nature of baptism? In a letter to his mother, Spurgeon wrote, “Conscience has convinced me that it is a duty to be buried with Christ in baptism, although I am sure it constitutes no part of salvation.”[7] In his testimony, he says, “I had no superstitious idea that baptism would save me, for I was saved” even prior to being baptized.[8] Thus, baptism was an act of obedience for Spurgeon. He answers his own question, “Why was I thus baptized?” by saying, “because I believed it to be an ordinance of Christ, very specially joined by Him with faith in His name.”[9] So, even though he did not believe baptism as essential for salvation, he would reject the notion that baptism is non-essential.[10]

Though baptism did not save, it symbolized or was emblematic of salvation. Spurgeon says, “I regarded baptism as the token to the believer of cleansing, the emblem of his burial with his Lord, and the outward avowal of his new birth.”[11] That word avowal conveys the idea of baptism as a public profession or declaration to the world that a person belongs to Christ. At the time, there was a practice developed by Doddridge where a believer could prayerfully sign and seal a document as a sign of dedication.[12] While not entirely condemning the practice, Spurgeon said, “I conceive that burial with Christ in baptism is a far more Scriptural and expressive sign of dedication.”[13] Peter J. Morden calls this aspect of Spurgeon’s baptismal theology, “a solemn pledge of absolute commitment,” and a “complete consecration to Christ.”[14] Thus, baptism was the ordained means whereby a person dedicated himself to Christ.

There were two further realities that baptism signified according to Spurgeon. First was the union of a believer to Christ’s dying and rising which is best displayed by dipping, or immersion. When the believer goes under the water and comes back up, his death to the world and his being raised to newness of life are visibly signified. Second is separation from the world. Morden says of baptized believers that “they had crossed the Rubicon and there was no turning back.”[15] A believer cannot go back to the world in the same way because he has crossed a point of no return. He must sever all ties with the world, for he has died to the world.

The final aspect that I will consider is the integral connection of baptism and the local church.[16] Spurgeon says, “Baptism is the mark of distinction between the Church and the world.”[17] Spurgeon makes clear that such profession ought to happen through believers’ baptism: “I never dreamed of entering the Church except by Christ’s own way, and I wish that all other believers were led to make a serious point of commencing their visible connection with the Church by the ordinance which symbolizes death to the world, burial with Christ, and resurrection to newness of life.”[18] Baptism is the entry point into the church.

Application for today

How can Spurgeon’s baptismal theology help pastors today? First, Spurgeon’s resolve to be baptized out of his biblical convictions while maintaining a spirit of honor towards his parents is instructive.[19] Spurgeon was driven by sound conviction based primarily on a reading of the New Testament, and not so much from familial, historical, traditional, or even doctrinal sources. At the same time, he maintained respectful relations with his family and sought to obtain their approval prior to his baptism.

Second, we should not miss the significance of the occasion of baptism for Spurgeon. In his journal entry for that day, he wrote, “In the afternoon, I was privileged to follow my Lord, and to be buried with Him in baptism. Blest pool! Sweet emblem of my death to all the world! May I, henceforward, live alone for Jesus!”[20] Baptism should result in joyful reflection in our union with and devotion to Christ.

Third, the combined practice of closed membership and open communion, in the way that Spurgeon understood it, seems a wise approach.[21] It upholds a Baptist ecclesiology, while maintain a catholic spirit towards our paedobaptist brothers and sisters.

Fourth, Spurgeon’s understanding of baptism—non-salvific, emblematic in nature, an act of obedience, a pledge of consecration, and a public profession—undergirds, clarifies, and sharpens our own baptismal theology and practice.

[1] This account can be found in C. H. Spurgeon, C.H. Spurgeon Autobiography, vol. 1,  The Early Years, 1834–1859, vol. 1 (London: Banner of Truth, 1962), 145–52.

[2] “In Spurgeon’s accounts of his baptism as a believer the main features of his baptismal theology appear.” Tim Grass and Ian Randall, “C. H. Spurgeon on the Sacraments,” in Baptist Sacramentalism, ed. Anthony R. Cross and Philip E. Thompson, Studies in Baptist History and Thought 5 (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2003), 57. This insight was first pointed out to me by Michael Haykin who advised me to “begin with his accounts in his autobiography of his baptism. In that you have the essence of his baptismal theology.”

[3] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:145.

[4] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:152.

[5] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:119.

[6] Grass and Randall, “C.H. Spurgeon on the Sacraments,” 61.

[7] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:113.

[8] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:151.

[9] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:151.

[10] Grass and Randall, “C. H. Spurgeon on the Sacraments,” 59.

[11] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:151. Two helpful articles on Spurgeon’s baptismal theology are by Peter J. Morden. In the first article, Morden argues that Spurgeon’s baptismal theology was non-sacramental. Peter J. Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Question of Baptismal Sacramentalism,” The Baptist Quarterly 43, no. 4 (October 2009): 196–220. In the second article, he presents Spurgeon’s baptismal theology more positively and then proceeds to critique his non-sacramental view. Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Importance of Baptism,” The Baptist Quarterly 43, no. 7 (July 2010): 388–409.

[12] Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Importance of Baptism,” 395.

[13] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:148.

[14] Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Importance of Baptism,” 394.

[15] Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Importance of Baptism,” 394.

[16] Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Importance of Baptism,” 396.

[17] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:147.

[18] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:150.

[19] Our church receives two interns from a German missions organization each year. Since many of them were baptized in the state church, some of them will end up wrestling with the issue of baptism during their time at our Baptist church. Perhaps reading Spurgeon’s correspondence with his parents, along with his recounting of his own baptism, would be a helpful starting point. Those who are convinced of the soundness of credobaptism should have a sense of urgency to pursue baptism in obedience to Christ.

[20] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:131.

[21] Spurgeon’s reticence to participate in the Lord’s Table prior to his (believer’s) baptism should be a check to those who take Spurgeon to be supportive of an open communion in which the only requirement for partaking is belief in Christ and the gospel. In other words, Spurgeon seems to be saying, one may partake in communion at this church if they are a genuine believer, have been baptized (whether by pedobaptism or credobaptism), and belong to a local church. To those who would call themselves Christians but are not yet baptized, the words of Spurgeon should be instructive, “I was invited to the communion table, although I had not been baptized [i.e., as a believer]. I refused [to take communion], because it did not appear to me to be according to the New Testament order.” Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:145.

Yuta Seki serves as the Associate Pastor of Youth at Maple Avenue Baptist Church in Georgetown, Ontario. He earned a Master of Divinity at The Master’s Seminary and is pursuing a Doctor of Educational Ministry at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is happily married to Alyssa, and they have three boys.



“A Seal of Consecration”: Spurgeon’s Account Of His Own Baptism

By / Aug 28

Spurgeon’s “Conversion” to Credobaptism[1]

Charles Haddon Spurgeon was sent to an Anglican school, St. Augustine’s College of Maidstone, Kent, at the age of fourteen.[2] He excelled in the school and rose to the top of his class, his intellectual acumen being evident even in those early years. Ironically, it was there at an Anglican school, during an instruction given by one of the clergymen on the Church of England Catechism, that the young Spurgeon came to a conviction concerning believer’s baptism. Spurgeon, reflecting on this event forty years later, wrote, “When I afterwards became a Christian, I also became a Baptist; and here I am, and it is due to the Church of England Catechism that I am a Baptist.”[3]

At the school, Spurgeon was given a homework assignment to locate any passages that denied that faith and repentance must come before baptism. This was the teaching in the Anglican Prayer Book. Spurgeon’s teacher was seeking to demonstrate that the Anglican Church’s teaching on this matter was superior to that of the Congregationalists. This was motivated by the fact that Spurgeon had been baptized by his grandfather who was a dissenter. Congregationalists did not require godparents to act as sponsors, but Anglicans did.[4] Thus, Spurgeon’s teacher was contending that the Anglican practice was more in line with scriptural teaching, as the godparents made promises of faith and repentance on behalf of the infant.

The plan backfired, however, and Spurgeon came to the conclusion that both the Church of England and the Congregationalists were wrong regarding baptism. Spurgeon could not find any biblical passages that denied that faith and repentance must come before baptism. This was in contrast to what his father and grandfather believed. But he was also not convinced by the argument of his teacher that a godparent legitimatized the Anglican practice. Instead, Spurgeon, who had not yet been converted, resolved, “If ever Divine grace should work a change in me, I would be baptized” as a believer by immersion.[5] Thus, Spurgeon departed from the conviction of his forebearers, and he was never won to the Anglican position.

Spurgeon’s Baptism

Spurgeon would follow through on that commitment on May 3, 1850, incidentally on his mother’s birthday. In the spring of that year, Spurgeon was away at school in Newmarket and exchanged letters with his parents. He was converted to Christ on January 6, 1850 and began thinking about baptism.[6] In his Autobiography, there are six letters written prior to his baptism and five of them mention some aspect of baptism. The thrust of those letters is twofold: to convey his personal convictions concerning credobaptism and to ask his parent’s blessing for acting on those beliefs.

From that same period we also have Spurgeon’s diary entries from April to June.[7] In the diary, the references to baptism are far less, proportionately speaking—in the twenty-seven entries up until he was baptized, he mentioned thinking seriously about baptism, receiving a letter from Mr. Cantlow, a comment his father had made, an anticipation of baptism, and an exuberant entry on the actual day of his baptism. All this clarifies Spurgeon’s thoughts at this juncture of his life. While he felt the tensions of familial relations (and departing from his religious upbringing) expressed in the letters, the diary entries do not reveal an inner wrestling concerning baptism. To put it slightly differently, Spurgeon seemed to have made up his mind regarding baptism and he was now navigating how to live out his convictions while still honoring his mother and father (Eph 6:2).

This brings us to the baptism event itself.[8] Michael Reeves recounts the events of the day succinctly: “Unable to find a Baptist church any nearer where he was then living, in Newmarket, Spurgeon arranged to be baptized by immersion in the river Lark, eight miles away.”[9] Spurgeon took a day off of work and spent a few hours in “prayer and dedication to God” before embarking on an joyful and prayerful eight-mile walk to Isleham, which took two to three hours.[10] Together with Mr. Cantlow, who was the minister that conducted the baptism, Spurgeon walked to the Isleham Ferry on the River Lark. Spurgeon commends the Isleham believers for they “had not degenerated to indoor immersion in a bath by the art of man, but used the ampler baptistery of the flowing river.”[11] This river served as the baptistry for no less than five churches across seven or eight miles. Mr. Cantlow, Spurgeon and two women, found the customary spot where there is sure footing and a gentle flow of water. There was a service prior but Spurgeon relates no details concerning it, claiming that “all remembrance of it has gone from me.”[12] He does recall, however, the weather conditions of the day, saying that there was a chilling wind and that it was a not so warm day.

It was a glorious day for Spurgeon. He remembers there being observers on both shores, on the ferry-boat, and in other boats. He says that all the cosmos could have been looking on, for he was unashamed of following the Lord Jesus in baptism and “to own myself a follower of the Lamb.” He continues, “My timidity was washed away; it floated down the river into the sea, and must have been devoured by the fishes, for I have never felt anything of the kind since. Baptism also loosed my tongue, and from that day it has never been quiet.”[13] Indeed, Spurgeon would have great boldness throughout his life, and became a mighty herald of the gospel from that time forth.

Spurgeon never really got over his baptism. Towards the end of the account that we have been considering, he writes, “That open stream, the crowded banks, and the solemn plunge, have never faded from my mind, but have often operated as a spur to duty, and a seal of consecration.”[14] His baptism, thus, anchored him and spurred him on over the course of his life and ministry.

[1] C. H. Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, vol. 1, The Early Years, 1834–1859 (1962; repr., London: Banner of Truth, 2018), 33–36.

[2] Peter J. Morden dates this event to “sometime in the academic year 1848–49.” Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Question of Baptismal Sacramentalism,” The Baptist Quarterly 43, no. 4 (October 2009): 198.

[3] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:38.

[4] Morden, “C. H. Spurgeon and Baptism: The Question of Baptismal Sacramentalism,” 199.

[5] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:35.

[6] For Spurgeon’s account of his conversion, see Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:78–96.

[7] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:123–43.

[8] For details concerning his baptism, see C.H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:145–52.

[9] Michael Reeves, Spurgeon on the Christian Life: Alive in Christ, Theologians on the Christian Life (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2018), 87.

[10] In his account of the baptism, Spurgeon says that he enjoyed “the two or three hours of quiet foot-travel,” then mentions being greeted by a smiling Mr. Cantlow. Yet, in his diary entry for that day (May 3), Spurgeon wrote, “Started with Mr. Cantlow at eleven, reached Isleham at one o’clock.” Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:131. It is unclear to me whether Mr. Cantlow accompanied Spurgeon from his walk from Newmarket to Isleham, or not. That is besides the point, though.

[11] Spurgeon, C.H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:148.

[12] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:149.

[13] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:149.

[14] Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon Autobiography, 1:150.

Yuta Seki serves as the Associate Pastor of Youth at Maple Avenue Baptist Church in Georgetown, Ontario. He earned a Master of Divinity at The Master’s Seminary and is pursuing a Doctor of Educational Ministry at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is happily married to Alyssa, and they have three boys.



Personal Hurt in Ministry: Spurgeon on Feelings of Betrayal

By / Aug 14

Anyone engaged in pastoral ministry will need to grapple with feelings of personal hurt at some point or another. Occasionally these feelings are the fruit of misunderstanding, sin, or leadership failure on the part of the pastor. But other times, they arise from a genuine sense of abandonment or betrayal.

Spurgeon knew well the hurt that can accompany the departure of close friends. The latter portion of his ministry seemed acutely marked by convictional stands that brought with them a deep personal cost. But would Spurgeon’s later reactions to personal abandonment mirror his earlier writings on the topic? Would he, in short, practice what he preached? The record seems to indicate so.

Spurgeon and the Bible on Personal Hurt

Psalm 55 represents a touchstone passage on the visceral nature of relational breakdown. In it, David lamented over his broken relationship, likely with Saul or Ahithophel.[1] Indeed, David’s hurt is magnified not merely by the devices of his enemy, but by the close personal connection previously shared between them.

For it is not an enemy who taunts me—then I could bear it; it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me— then I could hide from him. But it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend. We used to take sweet counsel together; within God’s house we walked in the throng.

Psalm 55:12-14

Spurgeon treated this Psalm in his first volume of The Treasury of David. This work was likely finalized in late 1869 and was being sold from bookstore shelves by November 1870.[2] In it, Spurgeon taught the following:

None are such real enemies as false friends. Reproaches from those who have been intimate with us, and trusted by us, cut us to the quick; and they are usually so well acquainted with our peculiar weaknesses that they know how to couch us where we are the most sensitive, and to speak so as to do us the most damage. The slanders of an avowed antagonist are seldom so mean and dastardly as those of a traitor, and the absence of the elements of ingratitude and treachery renders them less hard to bear. . . We can find a hiding-place from open foes, but who can escape from treachery?[3]

Spurgeon waxed poetic on the deep hurt of betrayal:

“But thou.” Et tu, Brute? And thou, Ahithophel, art thou here? Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man? “A man mine equal.” Treated by me as one of my own rank, never looked upon as an inferior, but as a trusted friend. . . Religion had rendered their intercourse sacred, they had mingled their worship, and communed on heavenly themes. If ever any bonds ought to be held inviolable, religious connection should be.[4]

It is true that the closer the relationship, the greater the propensity for hurt when a relationship breaks down. David knew this from experiencing outright betrayal. Spurgeon knew it from experiencing the departure of those he’d mentored during a time of doctrinal upheaval.

One of My Own Rank

As far back as two decades before the Down Grade Controversy got fully underway, Spurgeon was engaged in a debate with the Baptist Missionary Society over who could be a member and to what degree the society would be unabashedly evangelical. Spurgeon had a vested interest in these questions since he was a prominent member and some of his own Pastor’s College graduates had served under the BMS’s auspices.[5]

After a season of sustained advocacy for orthodoxy and prudent organizational parameters among these affiliations, Spurgeon decided to withdraw. By October 1887, Spurgeon withdrew from the Baptist Union. In November 1887, Spurgeon announced his rationale for withdrawal from the BU.[6] In April 1888, he withdrew from the London Baptist Association, which he had helped to found. He desired to go quietly, seeing no fruit in continued advocacy within these organizations. In truth, the process hurt him deeply. The Baptist Union Council charged him of making ill-founded accusations of doctrinal infidelity and censured him.[7] The resolution to censure was moved by William Landels, an erstwhile stalwart companion during Spurgeon’s Baptismal Regeneration Controversy. To make matters worse, Spurgeon’s own brother, James, believing himself to be helping Charles’s cause, advocated for the adoption of a would-be conciliatory statement seeking to appear more in line with Spurgeon’s view. The statement was adopted, but for Charles, he wasn’t sufficiently vindicated from the false accusations.[8] The damage was done, and the Council wasn’t relenting. He lamented,

My brother thinks he has gained a great victory, but I believe we are hopelessly sold. I feel heartbroken. Certainly he has done the very opposite of what I should have done. Yet he is not to be blamed, for he followed his best judgment.[9]

While the distancing from Spurgeon of such figures as Landels and the disappointment brokered by his brother proved palpable, Spurgeon was only entering the storm. After he felt it necessary to reorganize his Pastor’s College under clearly evangelical auspices, adopting a statement of faith very similar to the proposal rejected by the Baptist Union, some 80 students revolted. They refused to follow Spurgeon into his re-tooled College. This proved devastating to Spurgeon. He penned to one friend,

“I cannot tell you by letter what I Have endured in the desertion of my own men. Ah me! Yet the Lord liveth, and blessed be my rock!”[10]

Spurgeon’s Prescription Considered

In commenting on how one might be sustained during times of abandonment and betrayal, Spurgeon provided a few prescriptions.

First, he encouraged looking to the example of Christ, who too “had to endure at its worse the deceit and faithlessness of a favored disciple.” He continued,

“let us not marvel when we are called to tread the road which is marked by his pierced feet.”[11]

Second, he counseled calling upon God alone as a source of solace.

“As for me, I will call upon God.” The Psalmist would not endeavor to meet the plots of his adversaries by counterplots, nor imitate their incessant violence, but in direct opposition to their godless behaviour would continually resort to his God.[12]

He pointed to the victory to be had in the privacy of the prayer closet:

Some cry aloud who never say a word. It is the bell of the heart that rings loudest in heaven.[13]

Finally, he entrusted himself to the vindication of God, believing that even God’s stripping us of friends is a vehicle of his kind, sanctifying power.

The Lord can soon change our condition, and he often does so when our prayers become fervent. The crisis of life is usually the secret place of wrestling. . . He who is stripped us of all friends to make us see himself in their absence, can give them back again in greater numbers that we may see him more joyfully in the fact of their presence.[14]

Physician, Heal Thyself

The exhortations written years before Spurgeon’s controversy convey one level of credence when surveyed in isolation. But when considered in light of Spurgeon’s practicing of his own remedies, they prove all the more meaningful.

Where Spurgeon could speak, he spoke. He advocated for truth in the institutions where he had a platform. But when that influence proved ineffectual, he withdrew, preferring not to “meet plots with counterplots,” and instead entrusting himself and his cause to the Lord in quiet submission.

Yet at his Pastor’s College, a realm more squarely under his purview, Spurgeon effected reform, and at great cost. When his mentees departed by the score, he rehearsed a refrain similar to the one penned from Psalm 55: “Yet the Lord liveth, and blessed be my rock!”

Spurgeon wrote powerfully of the personal hurt David endured when seeking to be faithful to the Lord. Little did he know that he too would be called upon to live out his own creed. Readers today do well to follow Spurgeon’s pattern in this regard: contending for the truth, yes, but looking to the Lord for final vindication.

[1] Spurgeon took the betraying friend of Psalm 55 to be Ahithophel. Charles H. Spurgeon, “Psalm LV,” in The Treasury of David, vol. 1 (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1988), 447-48. While Calvin took David’s enemy here to be Saul, other scholarship agrees with Spurgeon on this point. Cf. John Calvin Commentary on the Book of Psalms, vol. 2, trans. James Anderson (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 327; Carl Friedrich Keil and Franz Delitzsch, Commentary on the Old Testament, vol. 5 (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 381.

[2] Spurgeon notified his The Sword and the Trowel readers of the impending project release in November 1869. Charles Haddon Spurgeon, The Sword and the Trowel, November 1869, p.524. See also Thomas J. Nettles, Living by Revealed Truth: The Life and Pastoral Theology of Charles Haddon Spurgeon (Fearn, UK: Mentor, 2013), 400-401.

[3] Spurgeon, “Psalm LV,” in Treasury of David, vol. 1, 448.

[4] Ibid., 449.

[5] Larry James Michael, “The Effects of Controversy on the Evangelistic Ministry of C. H. Spurgeon” (PhD diss., The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1989), 194.

[6] Spurgeon, “A Fragment Upon the Down-Grade Controversy,” Sword and Trowel, November 1887, 558.

[7] Ernest A. Payne, The Baptist Union: A Short History (London, UK: The Carey Kingsgate Press Ltd., 1958), 136.

[8] It should be noted that at some points, scholars leave open the question of whether the objective actions of others or the subjective interpretation of Spurgeon caused his feelings of abandonment. These questions notwithstanding, the history of the Baptist Union’s trajectory largely vindicates Spurgeon in his feeling that men with whom he had once held fast to sound doctrine were drifting.

[9] W. Y. Fullerton, Charles H. Spurgeon: London’s Most Popular Preacher (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1966), 256.

[10] Miscellaneous correspondence, Spurgeon’s College, London. Quoted in Michael, 251.

[11] Spurgeon, “Psalm LV,” in Treasury of David, vol. 1, 449.

[12] Ibid., 450.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Ibid.



Sermon of the Week: “As Thy Days, so Shall Thy Strength Be.”

By / Jun 26

“As thy days, so shall thy strength be,” Deuteronomy 33:25

Introduction

As a preacher who struggled with periods of depression, Spurgeon proclaimed the power and grace of God amid spiritual darkness. This strange paradox enabled him to declare, “How much reason have we to bless God for nights! for if it were not for nights how much of beauty never would be discovered…were it not for winter we should never see the glistening crystals of the snow; we should never behold the beauteous festoons of the icicles that hang from the eaves.” For Spurgeon, such times were the reason that God could declare the promise of Deuteronomy 33:25 to his people in their weakness. This is the truth that he sought to bring out in his sermon “As Thy Days, So Shall Thy Strength Be.” Spurgeon understood that “we must shudder at our own trembling weakness, but we still do bless God that we are weak because it makes room for the display of his own invincible strength in fulfilling such a promise as this.”

The Sermon

In the first point, Spurgeon speaks of “the self-weakness hinted at in the text.” Here, he emphasizes that before we have the ability to “behold the brightness of this rich and exceeding promise,” we need, “a good fair idea of the great depth of our own weakness.” Spurgeon describes four contexts in which weakness is most clearly felt: 1) the day of duty, as we our overwhelmed by the work set before us; 2) the day of suffering, as we find ourselves frail and falling to sickness and impatience; 3) the pursuit of spiritual progress, when the Lord seeks to “grow us downward when we are only thinking about going up;” and 4) the time of temptation, when Satan has his arrows trained on the Achilles’s heel of our heart. Spurgeon states that the key declaration of these experiences is that “every child of God will be ready to confess that he is weak.” But God’s people are not left alone in this state.

Spurgeon’s second point is the proclamation of, “the great promise,—‘As thy days, so shall thy strength be.’” For those discouraged by their weaknesses, “this is a well guaranteed promise.” As we see in Job 38-41, we can be confident that God will fulfill His promise because He is omnipotent. But Spurgeon does not make room for his words to be mistaken for a prosperity gospel. There are limits to this promise because, “it says our strength is to be as our days are…not as our desires are.” For Spurgeon, this was a reminder that God’s people need His grace and strength every day of the week, and that God will give His grace to His people according to their needs. Spurgeon further demonstrated that the power of this promise is its omniscient quality. During, “a fine sunshiny morning; all the world is laughing…‘My strength shall be as my day is declares the pilgrim,’” and in, a day of tempest…wherever you may be and whatever trouble awaits you, ‘As thy days, so shall thy strength be.’” It is here the preacher reflects on his own daily weaknesses and the Lord’s supply of strength in the midst of weakness. Spurgeon transitions to his conclusion by staunchly declaring, “You may live till you are never so old, but this promise will outlive you.”

Therefore, Spurgeon concludes with one “inference” or point of application, “Children of the living God be rid of your doubts, be rid of your trouble and fear…your day shall never be more troublesome, or full of temptation, than your strength shall be full of deliverance.” For those in Christ, Spurgeon calls for them to press on in the confidence of God’s strength. But for those who do not know God, Spurgeon warns that their strength is fleeting and in opposition to God, and he called such people to repent lest they not know God’s strength as their own in the day they meet Him.

Conclusion

Spurgeon understood both the pain and beauty seen in the complexity of this life. In the midst of sorrows, he guarded his congregation from despair at its seeming endlessness. And in earthly pleasures, he warned his people not to revel in their own strength. In all this, our confidence should remain fixed in the Lord’s promise, “As thy days, so shall be thy strength.”

Read the sermon here.