A Sermon Published on Thursday, October 1, 1914,
Delivered by C.H. Spurgeon, At The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
“They have forgotten their resting-place.” — Jeremiah 1:6.
THE people of Israel had been so hunted about that they forgot the place where once they rested. The like remark may be made of some congregations. There are Christian people who have the great misfortune of an unchristly pastor. The preaching is eloquent; they are constantly exhorted to do one thing and another; it may be the preaching is intellectual; they are encouraged to speculate upon this and that doctrine, or it may happen that the preaching is rhetorical, the people are covered with flowers, the preacher seems to be constantly scattering from himself a display of fireworks, an explosion of dazzling words. There is no manifestation of Christ — no opening up of the completeness of the atoning sacrifice — no uplifting of Jesus in his love to his people, in his union with them, in the covenant which he has made on their behalf. Oftentimes have we met with good people who fretted because the ministry failed to supply for their souls. They could have done without the eloquence; they could have been happy without the new theories, however intellectual; they could have survived if there had been less exhortation: what they wanted was a little food to strengthen them, a little repose to invigorate them, a little faith to encourage them in resting upon the finished work of Jesus Christ. Oh! what an account will they have to give who, instead of being shepherds of God’s sending to feed his flock with discretion, and make them lie down in green pastures, come to them as legal task-masters wielding the rod, but never using the pastoral staff to guide the flocks by still waters! However, I fear me, there are some who though no less worried, nevertheless forget their resting-place. Let us talk familiarly with one another on this theme.
What is our resting-place, beloveds? We have only one answer, I am sure. “We who have believed have entered into rest,” but our rest is in Jesus Christ himself. We believed on him, he took away our burden, and we found rest. We bowed our neck to his yoke, became his disciples, and we found yet fuller rest unto our souls. Not a particle of rest do we get from ourselves, neither doth the world contribute to it, for “in the world ye shall have tribulation.” All our rest is found in him, for he is our peace, who hath said, “It is finished,” and in that finished work we confidently repose. It is possible for us to forget, however, to enjoy the rest which faith has made it our privilege to possess, and, if we do, it is not only a loss to our comfort, but it is a very serious loss to us in all respects. If sheep, under the charge of any, should lose their rest, besides the cruelty to the creatures, and the suffering it would involve them, it would be a serious loss to their owner. A sheep does, after it has been fed, lie down; it must naturally chew the cud. The food it has gathered it must digest in peace, or else it cannot grow fat. It cannot, in fact, be in health at all. Fancy a field of sheep, in which some worrying dog constantly amused himself by hunting them from end to end. They would become lean and valueless. They would ultimately die. We must have rest. It is important, therefore, not partly and in measure, but to the uttermost degree, that when Christ has become our rest, we should continue to enjoy him and to rest in him. The sense of such need urges me at this time to endeavor to lead you, as God shall help me, to Christ Jesus our rest, by reminding you of some who forget their resting-place. If it should happen to come home to your own souls, may you have grace to escape from the calamity which the text describes.
Three things: here is, first, a sin of which to be convinced; secondly, the cause of it to be sought out; and thirdly, the cure of it to be brought about. “They have forgotten their resting-place.”
I. This To Be Accounted A Sin For Many Reasons.
Let us recollect how dearly our resting-place was purchased for us. To give your soul rest, my brothers, Jesus Christ gave up his rest, and more, his heaven, his throne, his honor, his life. No rest could there ever have been for you, a wandering sheep, if the Shepherd had not given up himself as a ransom for the flock. Did it cost him Gethsemane’s bloody sweat? did it cost him Calvary’s wounds and death? and did you receive it and yet forget it? Have not you often thought that, whatever else might have passed away from your mind, never could the thought of that dying love depart? Yet it has faded on the tablet of your heat; for you have forgotten the priceless boon which that dying love has procured for you. Oh! chide yourself that Immanuel’s purchase should be lightly esteemed, that he, your rest, should ever slip away from your thought.
Remember, too, how graciously that rest was given to you. My own remembrances may help yours. I remember well — and did I live to twice the age of Methuselah, I never could forget — the time of my wearisome bondage under the law and under the slavery of sin. Oh! what I would have given then to have had rest, to have had my sins pardoned. I dare to say, I think a thousand deaths would have been cheaply endured by me, if I might have escaped the wrath to come. My burdened soul chose strangling rather than life, because my life had become weariness, and even like unto wormwood and gall had the cup of life been embittered. But as in a moment rest came to my soul by a glance at that crucified Savior. An act of simple faith exercised upon Christ’s Atonment brought me perfect rest.
And shall I forget my resting-place? I am sure, if some spirit prophetic of the future could have whispered in my ear at the time of my conversion, “You will forget your resting-place,” I should quickly have answered, with Hazael, to the prophet, “Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?” and I might have said, “Is thy servant a devil, that he should ever think of doing such a thing?” “Love so amazing, so divine” — shall this be cast behind my back? A gift so precious, brought to me when I deserved it not, and just when I most required it, shall it ever be lightly esteemed or carelessly neglected Oh! memory, let fall what thou mayest, but retain, as with an iron grasp, the recollection of that blessed day in which my soul found her resting-place.
Beloved, there are other reasons to make this forgetfulness of ours greatly sinful. Forsooth how sweetly we have enjoyed that rest since then! It was not one day a honeymoon, and then ever afterwards Christ and our souls strangers — oh! no, I speak to some of you who have had many high-days and holidays since time of your conversion, you have feasted upon dying love. That banqueting house of Solomon’s Song is a place well known to you; the banner of love that waved over the spouse of old, its silken folds have waved over you also. ‘Twas but the other night when some of us were together in prayer and communion with Christ, and we could not help singing: —
“My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.”
Could we have such enjoyments and yet forget them! such rest in the resting-place, and yet make light of it! Such peace of God that passeth all understanding, and yet be listless about it! Wretch that I am to wander thus in search of vain delights, to leave the flowing fountain for the broken cisterns, which, if they had been whole, had been but stagnant reservoirs unworthy to be compared to the clear living stream that bursts from the fountain of fellowship with Christ. Let every sweet season of past spiritual enjoyment gently rebuke you, beloved, if you do at all forget your resting-place.
Further, does it not seem strange and marvellous that any of us should forget our resting-place, when we so greatly need it? Oh! I think I speak for the most of you, when I say it is a weary world after all the mercy that God has made to pass before us; it is a weary, weary world. Solomon, with all his wealth, with all the accessories of pleasure, with all the tastes to enjoy them, deliberately said, “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.” And I am sure it is easy amidst pains and toils, blunders and disappointments, for many of us to utter the same lament. When afflicted in body, distressed with severe labor, or reduced to poverty, we might as well try to find rest on the sea, or on a bed of thorns, or on a bed of name, as find rest in the things of this world. What weariness of the flesh, what vexation of spirit we endure! Oh! then, why is it we forget our resting-place Men, jaded and faint with the fag and drudgery of labor, are glad to throw themselves upon the bed and fall to sleep, and ye that have much toil and travail under the sun, will ye forget that couch that Christ has brought for you, upon which your spirits may take delicious repose? With such need for rest, and such a rest so sweetly proven to be restful in the past ‘tis strange, ‘tis passing strange, ‘tis wonderful that we should ere forget our resting-place.
Since our resting-place is so suitable to us, it becomes the more strange that we should forget it. Suitable for a sinner is a finished salvation, suitable for a warrior is the great shield that covers his head in the day of battle; suitable for a fugitive is that castle and high tower of our defense, which is found in Christ the Lord’s anointed. “The coney goeth to her place in the rock, and the stork hath her nest among the fir trees.” Oh! ye children of God, ye have a resting-place suitable to your nature; how is it ye can forget it? Touch upon the things of nature, how they chide you! Bring to your remembrance the birds of the air, the beasts of the forest, the dumb driven cattle accustomed to the yoke, and let them chide you, or they forget not their resting-place. Carried away to the city the other day the dove was taken from its cage, and they let it loose, fastening to it the message. It mounted aloft, it whirled round a while that it might see where it was. It was far, far away from the dovecot; it was found hundreds of miles away, but whither did it fly? Swift as an arrow from the bow, it sought its resting-place with infallibility of affection; it found its nearest way to the cot where it had been reared, and brought its message safely there. Wilt thou let the pigeon outstrip thee in affection for thy resting-place? Look at the swift-winged dove and be ashamed. And even the dog which thou despiseth, taken away from its master, carried many miles away, in darkness, too, so, that it might not know its way, has been known to swim rivers, cross by-ways it could not have known, and there it is found barking for admission at its master’s door; oh! so happy when it heard its master’s voice again. It could not rest elsewhere. Oh! my heart, art thou more doggish than a dog? Dost thou forget thy Lord when dogs remember well their masters? Let us learn even from these creatures, I say, and henceforth let us not forget our resting-place. As all ingratitude is base, this sin cannot be light or venial. Now, let us ask: —
II. WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF THE FORGETFULNESS which we sometimes have of Jesus Christ — our heart’s dear rest?
How frequently it arises from neglect of thought, a culpable remissness! So busy, up in the morning, at it, the whirl, the noise, and clatter of business in the ear — always in the ear, every nerve on the strain, right on till one falls asleep through sheer exhaustion! Oh! our times are hard for deep piety; they are hard and trying times for souls that would walk near to Christ. I know more grace can match the evil of the times; but still our Puritan forefathers with their quiet lives, calm and undistracted, with the time they could have for studying the Word of God, and for private prayer — no wonder they outstripped us! I am afraid some Christians neglect the reading of the Word of god, almost as a rule forget it. You don’t get your daily text; you don’t get your meditation. Ah! souls, if a thing never comes across the mind, it is not remarkable that you should forget it. If any of you are going on a journey, you don’t forget your wives; no, they come often across your thoughts; you may forget some stranger whom you saw but once, you may never think of him again. Were the mind more occupied with Christ, there would be less likelihood of our forgetting him! You know, when the photographer takes a likeness, if he does it rapidly, it may be that, by-and-by, it will fade. If they want to take a picture that shall be definite, fixed, and permanent, they let the sensitive plate continue long exposed to the view that there may be a good, thoroughly well-fixed impression. I would that my soul had many opportunities of being like a sensitive plate fixed right in front of Jesus to take his portrait thoroughly, to have it so upon my soul that it could never fade away. Oh! to have much more communion with Christ, to contemplate him with steady gaze and undistracted attention is the way to overcome our present forgetfulness. This is a flimsy age — a superficial age. It has its waves of religious excitement; but they are all on the surface. We have not many of those great ground-swell waves where the ocean of manhood seems to heave up from the very bottom. These are the waves that work wonders for men and-glorify God. May we have many such in our own souls.
Another reason why we forget our Savior is our tendency to self-sufficiency. A poor man, who has nothing of his own, and who lives day by day a pensioner upon some rich man’s bounty, cannot forget the man who helps him, because if he should forget him this morning, he will be sure to recollect him to-morrow morning when he wants bread; and he who receives his money weekly might forget his friend on the Tuesday, but he will recollect him again on the Saturday, when he must needs go to him again. If we were always sensible as we should be of our absolute dependence on Christ for everything, and going to him for all, there would be no fear of our memories falling us; but we very soon set up a little independency of our own — poor worms as we are — as a brother said in prayer the other night,”Dustheaps”; that is all we are the very best of us, poor “dustheaps.” We imagine we are kingdoms, and we talk such great things, and think such big things about our experience and our wisdom! Oh! away with it all! We might well not see the sun when we eclipse him with our self-sufficiency. Thou poor beggarly worm, naked, poor, and miserable, I counsel thee to buy of Christ gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich, and white raiment that thou mayest be clothed, and go to him again, leaving thy self-sufficiency behind thee.
With others it is worldliness that keeps them from remembering their dear Savior. They forget their resting-place because they are so worldly, grasping after so much. Enough is not enough to them; they must have more. The early rising and the sitting up late are right enough for industry, but wrong enough for avarice; these are the things that keep the soul from Christ — the getting money rightly if you can, but, anyhow, the getting money. A man cannot live for this, and yet abide in Christ; when the heart gets the world into it, it doth eat as doth a canker. If thou wilt have the world, thou shalt have it; but thou shalt not have Christ. Oh! canst thou make an exchange of Christ for such poor stuff, for such heavy clay? keep all the world outside thy heart. If you keep all the sea outside the ship, it cannot sink. Is the world inside thy heart? and a little water there will prove a leak that will sink thy vessel — beware of worldliness. Those of you can be worldly that are poor, as well as those that are rich. You may have cares that worry and devour, and keep you from your Savior. Strive against these; be not cankered with this canker. Love not the world, or thou canst not walk with Jesus; lay thy cares on him who careth for thee, and thou wilt come back to thy resting-place.
I fear me that some Christians forget their resting-place through idolatry. “Idolatry?” We are not idolaters; we are not, even as the Romanists are that will worship their crucifixes or their relics.” No idolatry? Was not that idolatry this afternoon with that boy of yours? Ah! what a boy! Your heart all but adores him, and if he were taken from you, you would feel you could not forgive God. Not idolatry? The other day, when you looked upon your fair estate, and all the comforts of life with which God had surrounded you, did not you feel your heart go after these things? Not idolatry? “Little children, keep yourselves from idols,” was once an exhortation of John, and it is also my exhortation to you this evening. We so soon make idols. I am afraid, if an idol breaking were to take place to-night, many of you would go home broken-hearted; or if your idols are at home, you would go home to see them broken, and yourself be ready to despair. There is much idolatry, and if thou lovest son or daughter more than Christ, thou art not worthy of him. If thou lovest husband or wife more than Christ, thou art not worthy of him. Oh! be it so, that they take low seats, and Christ sits on the throne. Go down, beloved, go down; I love thee there as I may and should I but come up, my Savior, take the highest room, for there thou must sit King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Once more, I do think some genuine Christians forget their resting-place for a while through despondency of spirit. It is sometimes hard to remember our sweet rest in Jesus when we get oppressed. I can speak very feelingly here. There are some of us that carry about with us a constitution which elevates us at times up to the very heavens of delight, and sinks us down at other periods very, very low. Those that have high tides must expect to have very dry ebbs. If you mount high, you will fall low sometimes, and then, when the liver won’t act, when the spirits won’t move, when the whole heart hangs its harp upon the willows, it is hard then to come and rest in Jesus. And some feel grinding trouble, or a perpetual affliction of body, till at last they get into a chronic state of sadness. Dear brother, dear sister, before you get there, make a rally, if you can, to get away from it. It is to be escaped from. After all, Christ died for sinners, such as you are. Hang on him, cling to him, come and wash again in the fountain which is filled with his blood, he loves thee; he gives himself for thee; he ne’er can forget thee, or cast thee away. Come and rejoice in him yet again, and lift up thy heart once more by simple, confident faith in him, for “he is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him.” Don’t let Satan triumph; don’t let the world laugh because a Christian is in despair. “Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. “Begone, ye fears! Let the winds take them away.” Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. His mercy is not clean gone for ever; he will be mindful of his covenant; he will not cast away his people whom he did foreknow.”
These are the things that will sometimes bring us into the dilemma of forgetting our resting-place. And now to close: —
III. What Is The Cure For It All?
I do not know what Charles the First meant when he gave his watch to Bishop Judson, and said, “Remember.” I do not care what he meant. But let the same be my word to you tonight, “Remember! Remember.” That is the cure for this distemper of the mind; this dereliction of the heart. “Remember what?” say you. Remember first the past.
“His love in time past forbids me to think,
He’ll leave me at last in trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review
Confirms his good pleasure to help me quite through.”
Remember the days of old, the everlasting covenant. Remember the sealing of the convenant with blood upon the accursed tree. Remember the day of thy sin, and the day of salvation; thy sore bondage, and thy great deliverance, when he brought thee out of Egypt with a high hand and an outstretched arm. Remember this, and thou wilt no more forget thy resting-place.
Remember again the future. You say, “Can we remember that which has not happened yet?” Let thy faith substantiate the promise, and see it as though fulfilled, and remember it to-night. Thou wilt ere long be where Jesus is. Thy soul white robed, shall appear before him, and thy poor body — vile body as it is — shall be fashioned like unto his glorious body, and thou shalt shine with the mighty host who day without night magnify the name of him that is, and was, and is to come. Remember this, and thou shalt not forget thy resting-place. “All this comes to thee through him; he has procured it for thee, and is preparing it for thee at this hour.”
Remember also something about the present. What is there that thou has to-night of all thy possessions that can afford thee rest? Have the roots of thy spirit begun to twist about the earth? Pray to have them unbound, for otherwise a painful time will come to thee. What hast thou, that thou couldest rest upon in the time of death? A Roman Catholic once said that the doctrine of justification by faith was a blessed supper doctrine — would do to end the day with; but he thought it was a bad breakfast doctrine to begin the day with. At least there is truth in the first observation, it is a blessed supper doctrine, and Christ makes a blessed supper for us in life’s end. There is no supper in life’s end — no supper that the soul can eat — but Jesus Christ, that shall give her any satisfaction and content as she goeth forth on her long journey. Well, as thou host nothing that can satisfy thee in dying, why dost thou try to satisfy thyself with it now? Have you been making an idol? Have you? Let it go; forget not thy resting-place, I pray thee. Look at thy friend’s house and read “mortal” written there; look in thy child’s face, and know that ere long thy last act of kindness for that child will be to find a narrow home in the silent grave. What, art thou immortal, and seeking to live upon mortal food! Thou eternal as God’s life, and yet seeking to satisfy thyself with the worm’s meat that springs out of earth, and goes back again to it! Shame on thee! When Christ gives thee rest, and is all in all to thee, turn not away from the everything to try and fill thyself with the nothing.
Lastly remember, and this last remembrance will be a blessed cure — remember Christ himself. For this purpose come to his table. Though thou best for a while forgotten thy resting-place, he saith, “This do ye in remembrance of me.” Come and remember him again.
“Gethsemane can I forget?
Or there thy conflict see?
Thine agony and bloody sweat,
And not remember thee?
When to the Cross I turn mine eyes,
And rest on Calvary
O Lamb of God, my sacrifice
I must, I must remember thee.”
So may it be you now.
There may be, however, in this congregation — nay, I know there are some who have never yet enjoyed rest. They are going about to find it. Dear hearer, there is only one resting-place; don’t look for another. Thy works will never rest thee; sacraments can never rest thee; tears, and groans, and prayers can never rest thee. “None but Jesus can do helpless sinners good.” “Believe in him and live”; trust in him, and you shall find rest unto your soul for ever. Amen.