Sermons

Christ’s Sympathy with His People

Charles Haddon Spurgeon December 8, 1861 Scripture: Hebrews 2:18 From: Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Volume 50

Christ’s Sympathy with His People

 

 

“For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted.” — Hebrews ii. 18.

 

*“This date is an approximation of when this sermon was delivered.”

 

THAT which is the most simple lesson the gospel has to teach, is often the most difficult lesson for the Christian to learn. That simple lesson is, that we must not look to ourselves for anything good, but that we must look to the Lord alone for all our righteousness. The lesson is short, as well as simple; it is easy to repeat; but, as often as our faith is severely tried, we find how apt we are to forget that which is the very Alpha of the gospel, its rudiments, — That man, in himself, is wholly lost, and that all his hope of help and salvation must rest on Christ; — that, apart from God, there is nothing upon which faith can fasten itself; — and that, without the atoning sacrifice and justifying righteousness of Christ, the quickening and sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, and the everlasting love of the Father, there is neither joy, nor peace, nor comfort, nor hope to be found anywhere. This seems to be a very easy lesson; yet even aged believers, when their hair is getting grey, and they are about to enter the land of perfect peace and rest, still find the temptation to unbelief too much for them, and they begin to look for something good m the creature, and to seek for happiness in themselves, instead of seeking all good in God.

     I want to try to teach you this lesson again, and also to learn it myself, for I need to learn it as much as you do, — the lesson of looking away from our temptations, and from our own weakness and inability to repel those temptations, to him who, having himself suffered being tempted, “is able to succour them that are tempted.’’ Let us fix our eye upon our great High Priest, and leave Satan and all his insinuations, his blasphemies and his temptations, out of the question. Or, rather, let us bring them to Christ, and see them all finished in him. I am going to address three separate characters that are represented here, — first, the confirmed believer; secondly, the, young beginner; and, thirdly, the backslider; and then, summoning the attention of the whole company here assembled, I shall try to commend the comfort and instruction of the text to you all.

     I. First, let me speak TO ADVANCED CHRISTIANS.

     You all have your trials, and those trials are of an advanced character. The troubles, with which the plants of God’s right-hand planting are assailed, when they are saplings, are quite inconsiderable compared with those which come upon them when they are like cedars firmly rooted. As surely as our strength increases, so will our sufferings, our trials, our labours, or our temptations. God’s power is never given to a man to be stored up unused. The heavenly food, that is sent to strengthen us, like the manna given to the Israelites in the wilderness, is intended for immediate use. If the Lord sends you much, you shall have nothing beyond what you can use for him; though, blessed be his holy name, if you have but little, you shall have no lack. When the Lord puts upon our feet the shoes of iron and brass, which he has promised us in his ancient covenant, he intends that we should wear them, and walk in them, — not that we should put them into our museum, and gaze upon them as curiosities. If he gives us a strong hand, it is because we have a strong foe to fight with. If he gives us a great meal, — like that which he gave to Elijah, — it is in order that, in the strength of that meal, we may go for forty days, or even longer.

     Perhaps, my brother or sister, you are, just now, in great trouble. You have grown in grace, and your troubles have also grown. You feel that you want someone to whom you can tell your trouble; — your trouble very likely arises from the absence of your Lord. Let me remind you that, in this respect, you are very like the Israelites in the wilderness, when Moses had been absent from them for forty days. They said, “What shall we do? Our leader is gone; he, who was king in Jeshurun, has departed from us, and we are left like sheep without a shepherd.” So they went — I dare not say that they went for counsel, but they went — to the high priest, and you remember what they said, and what he did. Alas! he gave them no good counsel, for he was as unwise as they were, and as untried; he had always had Moses by his side ever since the day that the Lord had said, “Is not Aaron the Levite thy brother? . . . He shall be to thee instead of a mouth, and thou shalt be to him instead of God.” Aaron had never been left without his great leader; so, in his absence, he miserably failed, and led the people in the making and worshipping of the golden calf. How different it will be with you, who mourn the loss of the light of your Lord’s countenance, if you go to our great High Priest, the Lord Jesus Christ! He knows the meaning of your present trial, for he had once to cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” You tell him that your “soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death,” and he tells you that it was so with him also, on that night in which he was betrayed, when, “being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” No untried priest is he; he can sympathize, and he can succour.

     Take another case, that of Hannah, the “woman of a sorrowful spirit.” She was in a peculiarly trying position. Her husband’s other wife had children, but she had none; though she was greatly beloved of her husband, her adversary vexed her sorely to make her fret. Day by day, this was thrown in her teeth, that, because of some sin, God had not granted her the desire of her heart. A trial in one’s own house is one of the saddest places where it can come; the saddest, perhaps, with the exception of a thorn in the flesh, which comes still closer home. So poor Hannah, having that trial at home, thought she would go up to the sanctuary in Shiloh. There, she “prayed unto the Lord, and wept sore, and she vowed a vow.” But “she spake in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard.” So Eli, the high priest, thought that she was drunken; and, instead of comforting and consoling her, he spoke harshly to her, depressed and broken as her spirit was. You, my brethren, and you, my sisters, too, may have some trouble which you dare not tell to another, though it is sorely vexing you, and threatens even to break your heart. But when you go to the great High Priest, he will understand all about you, he will not need you to explain your sorrow to him, for he knows exactly what it is, and ho will apply the healing balm to your sorrowful spirit, and send you on your way full of peace and comfort.

     I offer, then, to you, who are advanced believers, this very comforting reflection, — in Christ’s sufferings, you are quite certain to find something akin to your own; and, in Christ’s heart, you are quite sure to find a deep well of divine sympathy; so you need not hesitate to go to him, or doubt that his loving heart will overflow with sympathy towards you, whatever your tidal may be.

     But, more than that, while I would console you by reminding you that Christ has suffered even as you have, I would also comfort you with the reflection that, this very day, he still suffers with you. Suppose, now, that a man could be so high in stature that his head could be in heaven while his feet were on earth, yet, whenever his feet suffered, his head would suffer, too. In the Canticles, the spouse says of her Heavenly Bridegroom, “His head is as the. most fine gold, . . . his legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold.” As John saw him, “in the isle that is called Patinos,” “his eyes were as a flame of fire; and his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace.” This suggests to me a parable; the feet of Christ, which form His Church on earth, still glow “as if they burned-in a furnace.” The glorious Head of the Church, up in heaven, “is as the most fine gold;” but there is not the least glow of heat, in the feet on earth, which is not felt by the Head in heaven. There is not a pang, that rends your heart, which Jesus does not feel. There is not a sorrow, that cuts deeply into your soul, which does not also cut into his; so you can still sing, —

“He feels at his heart all our sighs and our groans
For we are most near him, his flesh and his bones;
n all our distresses our Head feels the pain,
They all are most needful, not one is in vain.”

 Does it not comfort you to know that Christ can sympathize with you, and that he must sympathize with you; — can, because he has suffered; must, because he suffers still?

     I may also add, for your comfort, that all this — Christ’s suffering as you do, and his suffering with you, — must tend to shield you in your trials. A country minister, preaching upon the text, “Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there?” made the remark that Christ is a good Physician. “Ah!” said he, “Christ is not like those doctors, who come and say they are sorry for you, whereas, in their hearts, they are glad you are ill; for, if you and others were not ill, there would be no work for them. Or else,” said the preacher, “they look down upon you, and pity you, but not half as much as if they themselves had your complaint, and felt all the pains that you are feeling. But suppose,” he added, “that the doctor had all your pains himself, — suppose you had the headache, and that he looked down on you, and had your headache; — suppose, when you had palpitation of the heart, he had palpitation of the heart, too; — why, he would be very quick to cure you; certainly, he would not let you lie there a moment longer than was necessary, because he himself would be suffering with you.” Now, there is just one objection that may be made to the countryman’s argument, — that is, that the physician might be willing to raise the patient up at once, because he was himself suffering with him; yet he might say, “Here are two of us in the same plight, but my skill fails me here. If I could deliver you, you can well imagine that I would gladly do so, for, in so doing, I should deliver myself as well; but, alas! it is beyond my power, I cannot lighten your burden, nor my own; we can only sit down together, and mingle our tears, but we cannot assist one another.”

     But it is not so with the good Physician, for he has both the will and the power to heal us. One motion of that eternal arm, and every cloud, that is wrapped about the sky, shall be folded up, like a worn-out vesture, and cast away. Jesus speaks, and the boisterous billows cease their raging, and the wild winds are hushed to sleep. “Let there be light,” saith he; and, over the thick darkness of our affliction and adversity, comes the bright gleam of joy arid prosperity He did but lift up his voice, and “kings of armies did flee apace.” O Jesus, our Lord, when thou comest forth for the deliverance of thy people, who can stand before thee? As the wax melteth before the fire, and as the fat of rams is consumed upon thine altar, so do our trials and troubles melt and vanish away when thou comest forth for the deliverance of thy people! Remember, believers, that you not only have the love of Christ’s heart, but you also have the strength of Christ’s arm at your disposal. He ruleth over all things, in heaven, and earth, and hell, so rest in him, for still he bears the scars of his wounds to show that he has suffered even as you do. Still doth he prove himself to be man, seeing that he suffers with you; yet is he also “very God of very God,” into whose hand all power in heaven and earth is committed. He can, he must, he will deliver his people, and bring them out of all their trials into his eternal kingdom and glory.

     II. Secondly, I am going to speak TO ANXIOUS ENQUIRERS AND YOUNG BEGINNERS.

     I hear a plaintive voice, over yonder, saying to me, “I know, sir, that the precious blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin; and I know that, the moment I believe in him, I have nothing to fear concerning the past, for that sin is blotted out, once for all; but my fear is that, if I commence a Christian life, it will not last long. I am afraid I shall be like Pliable, and turn back at. the Slough of Despond; or if my neighbours jeer at me, I fear that I shall be ashamed to go forward in spite of their opposition. Even if I get over that, I feel that I cannot trust my own evil heart, which is so apt to deceive me. If old temptations should be overcome, new ones will be sure to arise, and I cannot help fearing as to what will become of me. I have seen some, who made a fair show in the flesh, turn back, and go straight to perdition; and I tremble lest it should be so with me also. How can I hope to withstand the imperious lusts which were too strong for me when first they allured my simple heart? How much more shall they be too mighty for me now that sin has gathered the force of habit, and practice, like an iron net, has enfolded me in its cruel grip! When I was a youth, I could not stand against this great enemy of my soul; how, then, shall I be a match for him now that I have grown old and feeble? The old Adam will be too strong for the young Melanethon.”

      Well, dear friends, I have seen some persons, who have been truly converted to God, who have been greatly troubled with this fear. Indeed, in some instances, I have even known of poor men kneeling down, and praying that God would let them die, there and then, sooner than that they should live to prove that their feelings were only a delusion, and that their supposed repentance was merely a passing excitement. Some of us can fully sympathize with those who pray such a prayer as that, for we have often felt that the most terrible death would be preferable to the disgrace of bringing dishonour upon the name of Jesus by turning back to the City of Destruction after we had once started for the Celestial City. But, my dear friend, if the Lord has begun a good work in thy soul, and led thee to trust in Jesus as thy Saviour, my text will just meet that fear of thine, for the apostle hero says that Christ “is able to succour them that are tempted.” You will be tempted; — I will not delude you with the notion that you will not; — and you cannot, by yourself, stand up against that temptation; but Christ, “in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, is able to succour them that are tempted.” This truth we set before you as a shield against all these dark, mysterious thoughts; — Christ can, and he will, if you trust in him, protect you from the sin and the temptation which you rightly dread.

     “But how is this to be done?” asks someone. Well, first of all, Chris t can do it by the force of his own example. He can show you — as he has done in his Word: but he can show you, by his Spirit opening up that Word, how he was once subject to just the same temptation that now assails you. Are you poor, and are you tempted to use wrong means to get rich? Christ can tell you how, in the wilderness, “when he had fasted forty days, and forty nights, he was afterwards an hungred,” and Satan came to him, and said, “If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread.” Are you a man in a high position, and are you tempted to do some daring and reckless deed? Christ can remind you how, when he was on a pinnacle of the temple, Satan said to him, “If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down.” Or do you seem, just now, to have great power within your reach if you will but stain your hand to grasp it? Christ can tell you how Satan showed him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, and said to him, “All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.” Then he will remind you how he passed through all these ordeals without sin, for the prince of this world could find nothing in him to respond to his temptations. He was tried and tested again and again, but no trace of alloy could be discovered even by the devil himself. Though he was often shot at by his great adversary, he was never wounded by the fiery shafts; so, inspired by his glorious example, you may say, —

 “Through floods and flames, if Jesus lead
I’ll follow where he goes.”

     You not only have Christ’s example to' keep you from sin, but you also have his presence. Do you know what this means? Let me give you an instance of it. There was a certain merchant, who had been, again and again, tempted to an act of sin. It was the usual custom in his trade, everybody else did it; but he knew that it was wrong, and his soul revolted against it. As he sat in his counting-house, he saw, pictured before his mind’s eye, his wife homeless, and his children crying for bread; and the demon whispered to him, “Do it; do it.” Then another picture flitted before his eyes, — he and his wife and children were rich, their home was filled with good things, and again the adversary said, “Do it; do it.” He saw the advantages that were to be gained by doing it, but he went home, and pondered the whole matter. His soul was heavy, and a stern struggle was proceeding within him. Then he went to his chamber, and shut himself in alone, and, falling upon his knees, told out all his difficulty and temptations to his Father in heaven. Then, suddenly, not before his eyes, but to faith’s inner eye, there appeared a vision of the crucified Christ, who showed him his pierced hands, and feet, and side, and then said to him, “He that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. Thou hast not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” The merchant, fixing his tearful eyes upon his Saviour, remembered Paul’s words, “Consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds; he came down from his bedroom, his soul was glad, for his mind was made up, and he said to himself, “I will not do it; I can be poor, but I cannot sin.” Others marked the man, and wondered at the change in his appearance. He walked erect, no longer like one bowed down beneath a heavy burden. Many men marvelled at him, and asked what had happened to him, but none could tell. The secret was, I hat the crucified Christ had appeared to him, and had given him the support of his divine presence. That was sufficient to silt con r him in the time of temptation, for Christ, having himself suffered being tempted, was able to succour his faithful follower when ho also was tempted.

     I know that I am addressing someone, who says, — I will use, as far as possible, his own words, — “Look here, sir; I have always been in the habit of being a jolly fellow, meeting with a number of been companions to drink, and chat, and sing, and so on. I do not know that we did very much amiss; but, still, I could not do it again if I became a Christian. Suppose, now, that I should be invited to join the same company to-morrow; — I am not sure what I might do, I might refuse their invitation; — but if I were asked again and again, and they jeered at me for refusing, I might give in. Suppose that I did not yield, there is another difficulty. I have been a man of such-and-such a character, and have formed such-and-such habits; now, how in the world am I to overcome those habits? I low am I to become a Christian, and to continue so to the end?”

     These are very proper questions, and I answer, — You are utterly helpless, apart from him who is able to succour them that are tempted; but if you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, he will give you a now nature. That new nature, it is true, will not at once cast out the old nature; your old nature will still be there, but the new nature will struggle against it ; and, ultimately, through the effectual working of the Holy Spirit, the new nature will prevail over the old nature, and you will be “a new creature in Christ Jesus;” old things will have passed away, and all things will have become new. You will say, as a young convert did, when he came to join the church, “I don't know which it is, but either everything else is changed, or else I am.” It was in himself, of course, that the great change had been wrought, but that changed the aspect of everything else.

     Let me give you a little parable to illustrate this point. A lion and a tiger used, frequently, to roam the forests together, in search of prey that might satisfy their bloodthirsty appetites. But, one day, an angel came, touched the lion, and changed him into a lamb. The next day, the tiger came, and wanted the lion to go with him to his feast of Mood. Do you think it was difficult for him to refuse the invitation? Oh, no! “I have no inclination to go,” said he. The tiger laughed scornfully, and said, “Aha! you have become pious, have you? Now you will go to the sheepfolds, and sneak behind the shepherds' heels, — you that were once so brave!” And the tiger despised him, and said, “You are miserable to be thus tied up like a dog, and not to dare to come and do as we have always done.” “Nay,” said the lion, “it is not that I dare not go with you, but I have no wish to go. I am not miserable because I cannot go with you on such an errand, — I should be miserable if I did go. The fact is, I cannot now do what I once did, for I am not what I once was. My new nature has brought me new loves, new hatreds, new preferences, new pursuits, so I cannot go with you on your blood-thirsty expedition.”

     If God has wrought a similar change in you, and transformed the lion into a lamb, and the raven into a dove, it will not be difficult for you to be kept from sin, for you will hate sin with a perfect hatred, and have no fellowship with it; and, besides that, as your nature will be renewed, day by day, by the Holy Spirit, with a constant infusion of everything that is good, and gracious, and Godlike, do you not see that sin shall no longer be like a strong spear to pierce you, but as a fragile reed which shall snap against the armour of proof which your soul shall wear?      Let me remind you, who are thinking of going upon pilgrimage, but are afraid of the lions and the dragons in the way, that he, under whose banner you hope to enlist, never suffered one soldier, who was in his service, to perish. If you become a sheep under the care of the good Shepherd, remember that —

 “His honour is engaged to save
The meanest of his sheep.”

 If you are a mariner, bound for the Fair Havens of eternal felicity, recollect that the Lord High Admiral of the seas of providence and grace has safely convoyed into port every vessel that has yet been committed to his charge; not one has ever been wrecked or lost in any way. Trust yourself to his protection and guidance, and he will bring you also in safely. What if your temper be, naturally, furious? What if your evil propensities have been indulged until they have become as giants holding you in cruel captivity? What if your passions boil, and burn, and blaze, like Vesuvius in eruption? What if your temptations should come upon you as the Philistines came upon Samson? He, to whom you commit the keeping of your soul, shall make you master over all; and you shall yet be, with the great multitude whom no man can number, more than conqueror through him who hath loved you. Oh, that the Holy Spirit would constrain many of you, straightway, to leave your old master, and to enter the service of the Saviour! You will never find a better master than the Lord Jesus Christ.

      “Ah!” said a sailor, seventy years of age, who had heard a sermon that had deeply affected him, and, I trust, had been the means of renewing his nature, “I am going to haul down my old flag to-day. I have sailed under the colours of the Black Prince all these years, but they are coming down to-day; and I am going to run up the blood-red cross in their place, and I hope to sail under that flag until I die.” So may it be with many of you! Say, O Satan, we have served thee far too long! Miserable is thy service, despicable are thy ways, degrading is our position, and awful must be our end if we remain in thy power.” Then turn to the Lord, and appeal to him. Say, “O God, help us! We cry to thee. Bring us, we pray thee, from under the tyrant’s sway. Help us to yield ourselves up to thee this very hour. Take our hearts, black as they are, and wash them in the precious blood of Jesus Christ, thy well-beloved Son. Change the hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. Make us to be thy servants while we live, and to enter into thy rest and thy glory when we die.”

     I have thus, I hope, spoken somewhat to the comfort of young beginners and anxious enquirers.

     III. Now, in the third place, I am going to speak briefly TO BACKSLIDEIIS.

     Where art thou, backslider? I cannot pick thee out; but there is an eye that sees thee, and that weeps over thee. Ten years ago, you used to sit down at the communion table; twenty years ago. you were a reputable member of the church; but you fell, and, oh, what, a fall was yours! Since that time, you have not wholly forsaken the house of God, though you have wandered hither and thither; but you have never dared to call yourself a Christian again. You lost the light of God’s countenance long ago, and you and the service of Satan very hard, yet you think you must go downward to despair. You feel that you are in the iron cage of which Bunyan wrote, and you fear that you will never get out of it. Poor backslider, I cannot mention thy name without a tear; and if I, a fellow-creature, thus weep over thee, much more does that compassionate Saviour, who suffered being tempted, and who is able to succour them that are tempted.

     Hark! If you will but incline your ear, you may hear a note that will cheer your heart, and yet break it, too! ’Tis God who speaks, and he is having a controversy with himself over you. Justice says, “Destroy him;” but Mercy says, “Spare him.” The very gospel, which thou hast despised, witnesses against thee; but, at the same time, pleads for thee. The Lord still says to backsliders, as he did to his ancient people when they wandered from him, “Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord; for I am married unto you.” “Married unto you!” This marriage bond cannot be broken; thou hast played the harlot, and gone after many lovers; but thy first Husband hates putting away, and even now invites thee to return to him. So, —

 “To thy Father’s bosom pressed,
Once again a child confessed;
rom his house no more to roam.
Come, O poor backslider, come!”

      I may even be addressing some, who once drank from the cup of communion, but who have turned aside to drink the cup of devils. I may be speaking to some, to whom, for years, the Sabbath has been a day for business instead of a day for worship. Yet you could never get the sound of the Sabbath bell out of your ears; and, even now, you cannot forget the profession you once made, nor the joys you once knew; and you cannot be easy in your sins. There is a spark of heavenly fire that still lingers within you, and it will not die out, even though you seek to quench it that it may not hinder you from going after your lusts. That is God’s grip still upon you; oh, that I might be his ambassador of peace, to fling wide the doors of his mercy to you! Poor prodigal, thou art clad in rags; the sty is thine only sleeping-place, and the swine thine only companions; thou wouldst fain fill thy belly with the husks that they eat: but thou must not, for thou art a God-made man, and swine’s food can never satisfy thee, As thou standest here, perhaps there is a tear trickling clown thy cheek because of the many years that thou hast spent in sin, and thou art saying, “I would arise, and go unto my Father, but I fear that he has forgotten me.” Oh, say not that! But do as the prodigal did; arise, and come unto thy Father, for he will give thee such a reception as the prodigal received. You shall have the kiss of forgiveness upon your brow, the best robe of your Saviour’s perfect righteousness shall be cast all around you, the ring of everlasting love shall be placed upon your finger, the shoes of peace shall be fitted to your feet, you shall eat the fat things of the promises of God ; there shall be music in your ears, music in your house, music on earth, and music in heaven itself, because he that was dead is alive again, he that was lost is found.

     This should be your consolation: “In that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted.” Bid I hear you say, “But I cannot see how Christ was ever in the same position that I am in, for he was never a backslider”? That is quite true; but what are your trials? First, you are tried by the burden of sin that is resting upon you; and Christ had the sins of all his people resting upon him, so he knows what that burden means. Next, you are tried by the loss of the light of God’s countenance; so was he, for he cried, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Then, you say that you have lost all your friends; so had he, for, in his time of trial, “they all forsook him, and fled.” You say, also, that you are despised, that you are the subject of the song of the drunkard and the mirth of the mocker; so was he, for he could truly say, “Reproach hath broken mine heart.” So Christ can sympathize — not with your sin, for he never had any of his own, — but with your sorrow, which is the consequence of sin, for he had to bear all that before you did.

     IV. Now I have to close by speaking TO THE WHOLE ASSEMBLY.

     I think I might liken you, on a large scale, to that little band of pilgrims, — Christiana, and Mercy, and Matthew, and James, and the rest of them who started from the City of Destruction, — who, when they came to the Interpreter’s House, were put under the escort of Mr. Greatheart. I am not Mr. Greatheart; — I am but one of the children; — but our great Saviour is Mr. Greatheart, and he is going with us all the way to the Celestial City. We are but like those boys and girls, and we are afraid of what we may meet on the road. There are lions in the way; but Mr. Greatheart can kill them, or restrain them from hurting us. There is Apollyon in the valley, but our Greatheart is more than a match for the arch-fiend. We shall have to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, yet each one of us shall be able to say, “I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” We shall have to go through the Enchanted Ground; but, as Christ will be with us, we shall not fall asleep there to our grievous hurt. We shall have to go through Vanity Fair, and to bear the jeer and the jibe of the mocking mob; but we can hear all that, for we shall have our great Captain with us. But, — and here comes the dark thought to some, — we shall at last come to the dark river without a bridge. Mr. Greatheart — whom Bunyan meant to be the minister, bad to go through the stream with the rest; but when we come to the river, our Mr. Greatheart, Christ himself, — will go through the river with each one of us. He will put his almighty arm around us; and when we get where our feet cannot feel the bottom, ho will say to each one of us, “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” To die with Jesus is better even than living with him except that higher style of living with him beyond the river of death, for —

 “Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are,
While on his breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.”

 In this sense, our text shines like a cluster of stars. Jesus died, Jesus rose again; in that lie died, he can sympathize; in that he rose again, he can succour. Lay hold of this text whenever you think of death with any gloomy cast in your mind; and let us go on our way, each one singing, —

 “Since Jesus is mine. I’ll not fear undressing,
But gladly put off this garment of clay;
To die in the Lord is a covenant blessing,
Since Jesus to glory through death led the way.”