The Curse Removed

Charles Spurgeon

6/15/1911
 

"Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangs on a tree."—Galatians 3:13

THE law of God is a divine law, holy, heavenly, perfect. Those who find fault with the law, or in the least degree depreciate it, do not understand its design, and have no right idea of the law itself. Paul says, "the law is holy, but I am carnal; sold under sin." In all we ever say concerning justification by faith, we never intend to lower the opinion which our hearers have of the law, for the law is one of the most sublime of God's works. There is not a commandment too many; there is not one too few; but it is so incomparable, that its perfection is a proof of its divinity. No human lawgiver could have given forth such a law as that which we find in the decalogue. It is a perfect law; for all human laws that are right are to be found in that brief compendium and epitome of all that is good and excellent toward God, or between man and man.

But while the law is glorious, it is never more misapplied than when it is used as a means of salvation. God never intended men to be saved by the law. When he proclaimed it on Sinai, it was with thunder, fire, and smoke; as if he would say, "O man, hear my law; but you shall tremble while you hear it." Hear it! It is a law which has the blast of a terrible trumpet, even like the day of destruction, of which it is but the herald, if you offend it, and find none to bear the doom for you. It was written on stone; as if to teach us that it was a hard, cold, stony law—one which would have no mercy upon us, but which, if we break it, would fall upon us, and dash us into a thousand pieces. O you who trust in the law for your salvation! you have erred from the faith; you do not understand God's designs; you are ignorant of every one of God's truths. The law was given by Moses to make men feel themselves condemned, but never to save them; its very intention was to "conclude us all in unbelief, and to condemn us all, that he might have mercy upon all." It was intended by its thunders to crush every hope of self-righteousness, by its lightnings to scathe and demolish every tower of our own works, that we might be brought humbly and simply to accept a finished salvation through the one mighty Mediator who has "finished the law, and made it honorable, and brought in an everlasting righteousness," whereby we stand, stand complete before our Maker at last, if we be in Christ. All that the law does, you will observe, is to curse; it can not bless. In all the pages of revelation you will find no blessings that the law ever gave to one that offended it. There were blessings, and those were comparatively small, which might be gained by those who kept it thoroughly; but no blessing is ever written for one offender. Blessings we find in the gospel; curses we find in the law.

This afternoon we shall briefly consider, first, the curse of the law; secondly, the curse removed; thirdly, the great Substitute who removed it—"He was made a curse for us." And then we shall come, in the last place, solemnly to ask each other, whether we are included in the mighty number for whom Christ did bear iniquities, and for whom "He was made a curse."

I. First, then, THE CURSE OF THE LAW. All who sin against the law are cursed by the law; all who rebel against its commands are cursed—cursed instantly, cursed terribly.

1. We shall regard that curse, first as being a universal curse, resting upon every one of the seed of Adam. Perhaps some here will be inclined to say, "Of course the law of God will curse all those who are loose in their lives, or profane in their conversation. We can all of us imagine that the swearer is a cursed man, cursed by God. We can suppose that the wrath of God rests upon the head of the man who is filthy in his life, and whose conversation is not upright, or who is a degraded man, under the ban of society." But ah! my friend, it is not quite so easy to get at the real truth, which is this, that the curse of God rests upon every one of us, as by nature we stand before him. You may be the most moral in the world, but yet the curse of God is upon you; you may be lovely in your life, modest in your carriage, upright in your behavior, almost Christlike in your conduct, yet, if you have not been born again, and regenerated by sovereign grace, the curse of God still rests upon your head. If you have but committed one sin in your life, God's justice is so inexorable, that it condemns a man for one solitary offense; and though your life should henceforth be one continued career of holiness, if you have sinned but once, unless you have an interest in the blood of Christ, the thunders of Sinai are launched at you, and the lightnings of terrible vengeance flash all around you.

Ah! my hearers, how humbling is this doctrine to our pride, that the curse of God is on every man of the seed of Adam; that every child born in this world is born under the curse, since it is born under the law; and that the moment I sin, though I transgress but once, I am from that moment condemned already; for "cursed is every one that continues not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them."—cursed without a single hope of mercy, unless he find that mercy in the Substitute "who was made a curse for us." It is an awful thought, that the trail of the serpent is on the whole earth; that the poison is in the fountain of every heart; that the stream of the blood in all our veins is corrupt; that we are all condemned; that each one of us, without a single exception, whether he be philanthropist, senator, philosopher, divine, prince, or monarch, is under the curse unless he has been redeemed from it by Christ.

2. The curse, too, we must remark, while universal, is also just. This is the great difficulty. There are many persons who think that the curse of God upon those who are undeniably wicked is, of course, right; but that the curse of God upon those who for the most part appear to be excellent, and who may have sinned but once, as an act of injustice. We answer, "Nay, when God pronounces the curse, he does it justly; he is a God of justice; 'just and right is he.'" And mark you, man, if you are condemned, it shall be by the strictest justice; and if you have sinned but once, the curse is righteous when it lights upon your head. Do you ask me how this is? I answer, You say your sin is little; then, if the sin be little, how little trouble it might have taken you to have avoided it! If your transgression be but small, at how small an expense you might have refrained from it! Some have said, "Surely the sin of Adam was but little; he did but take an apple." Ay, but in its littleness was its greatness. If it was a little thing to take the fruit, with how little trouble might it have been avoided! And because it was so small an act, there was couched within it the greater malignity of guilt. So, too, you may never have blasphemed your God, you may never have desecrated his Sabbath; yet, insomuch as you have committed a little sin, you are justly condemned, for a little sin has in it the essence of all sin; and I know not but that what we call little sins may be greater in God's sight than those which the world universally condemns, and against which the hiss of the execration of humanity continually rises. I say, God is just, although from his lips should rush thunders to blast the entire universe; God is just, although he curses all. Tremble, man, and "kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish by the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him."

So the curse is universal, and it is just.

3. But let us notice, next, the curse is also fearful. Some there be who think it little to be cursed of God; but O! it they knew the fearful consequences of that curse; they would think it terrible indeed. It were enough to make our knees knock together, to chill our blood, and start each individual hair of our head upon its end, if we did but know what it is to be under the curse of God. What does that curse include? It involves death, the death of this body; that is by no means an insignificant portion of its sentence. It includes spiritual death, a death of that inner life which Adam had—the life of the spirit, which has now fled, and can only be restored by that holy Spirit who "quickens whom he will." And it includes, last of all, and worst of all, that death eternal, a dwelling forever in the place

"Where solemn groans, and hollow moans,
 And shrieks of tortured ghosts,"

make up the only music. Death eternal includes all that can be gathered in that terrible, that awful—we had almost said unutterable—word "Hell." This is a curse which rests on every man by nature. We make no exception of rank or degree; for God has made none. We offer no hope of exception of character or reputation; for God has made none. The whole of us are shut up to this, that (so far as the law is concerned) we must die—die here and die in the next world, and die a death which never dies; feel a worm which shall gnaw forever, and a fire which never can be extinguished, even by a fold of tears of future penitence. There we must be forever, O! forever lost. Could we estimate that curse, I say again, the torments that tyrants could inflict we might well afford to ridicule, the injuries that this body can sustain we might well afford to despise, compared with that awful avalanche of threatening which rushes down with fearful force form the mountain of God's truth. Condemnation—that curse of God—abides on us all.

4. We hasten from this point, beloved, for it is fearful work to speak upon it; but yet we must not depart from it entirely, until we have hinted at one thought more; and that is, that the curse of God which comes upon sinful men is a present curse. O! my dear hearers, could I lay hold of your hands, it you be not converted, I would labor with tears and groans to get you to grasp this thought. It is not so much a condemnation in the future that you have to dread as a damnation now. Yes, sitting where you are, my hearer, if you are out of Christ, you are condemned now; your condemnation is sealed; your death-warrant has been stamped by the great seal of the Majesty of Heaven; the angel's sword of vengeance is already unsheathed, and over your head this afternoon. Whoever you may be, it you are out of Christ, there hangs a sword over you, a sword suspended by a hair, which death shall cut; and then that sword shall descend, dividing your soul from your body, and sending both of them to pains eternal. O! you might start up from your seats with fear, if you did but know this, some of you. You are reputable, you are respectable, you are honorable, perhaps right honorable, and yet condemned men, condemned women. On the walls of Heaven you are proscribed, written up there as deicides, who have slain the Savior—as rebels against God's government, who have committed high treason against him; and perhaps even now the dark-winged angel of death is spreading his pinions upon the blast, hastening to hurry you down to destruction. Say not, O sinner, that I would affright you; say, rather, that I would bring you to the Savior; for whether you hear this or not, or Believe it or not, you can not alter the truth thereof—that you are now, if you have not given yourself to Christ, "condemned already;" and wherever you sit, you are but still in your condemned cell; for this whole earth is but one huge prison-house, wherein the condemned one does drag along a chain of condemnation, until death takes him to the scaffold, where the fearful execution of terrific woe must take place upon him. Now condemned and forever condemned; hear that word. "The curse of the law!"

II. But now I must speak, in the second place, of THE REMOVAL OF THAT CURSE. This is a sweet and pleasant duty. Some of you, my dear friends, will be able to follow me in your experience, while I just remind you how it was, that in your salvation Christ removed the curse.

1. First, you will agree with me when I say that the removal of the curse from us is done in a moment. It is an instantaneous thing. I may stand here one moment under the curse; and if the Spirit look upon me, and I breathe a prayer to heaven—if by faith I cast myself on Jesus—in one solitary second, before the clock has ticked, my sins may be all forgiven. Deer sung truly, when he said—

"The moment a sinner believes,
And trusts in his crucified God,
His pardon at once he receives,
Salvation if full, through his blood."

You will remember in Christ's life, that most of the curses he wrought—yes, I believe all—were instantaneous cures. See! there lies a man stretched on his couch, from which he has not risen for years. "Take up your bed, and walk," said Christ in majesty. The man takes up that bed, and without the intervention of weeks of convalescence at once carries it, leaping like a deer. There is another. From his closed lips a sound has scarcely ever escaped; he is dumb; Christ touches his lips; "Ephphatha, be opened;" and he sings at once. He does not barely speak, but he speaks plain; the tongue of the dumb sings. Ay, and even in the cases where Christ healed death itself, he did it instantaneously. When that beautiful creature lay asleep in death upon the bed, Jesus went to her; and though her dark ringlets covered up her eyes, which were now glazed in death, Jesus did but take her clay-cold hand in his, and say, "Talitha cumi! damsel, I say unto you, Arise;" and no sooner had he said it, than she sat up, and opened her eyes; and to show that she was not merely half alive, or half restored, she rose up, and ministered to him. We do not say that the great work of conversion is instantaneous; that may take some time; for Christ commences in the heart a work, which is to be carried on through life in sanctification; but the justification, the taking away the curse, is done in a single moment. "Unwrite the curse," says God. It is done. The acquittal is signed and sealed; it takes not long.

"Fully discharged by Christ I am,
From sin's tremendous curse and blame."

I may stand here at this moment, and I may have believed in Christ but five minutes ago; still, if I have believed in Christ but that short space of time, I am as justified, in God's sight, as I would be should I live until these hairs are whitened by the sunlight of Heaven, or as I shall be when I walk among the golden lamps of the city of palaces. God justifies his people at once; the curse is removed in a single moment. Sinner, hear that! You may now be under condemnation; but before you can say "now" again, you may be able to say—"There is, therefore, now no condemnation to me, for I am in Christ Jesus." We may be fully absolved in a moment.

2. Mark, beloved, in the next place, that this removal of the curse from us, when it does take place, is an entire removal. It is not a part of the curse which is taken away. Christ does not stand at the foot of Sinai, and say, "Thunders! diminish your force;" he does not catch here and there a lightning, and bind its wings; nay, but when he comes he blows away all the smoke, he puts aside all the thunder, he quenches all the lightning; he removes it all. When Christ pardons, he pardons all sin; the sins of twice ten thousand years he pardons in an hour. You may be old and gray-headed, and hitherto unpardoned; but though your sins exceed in number the stars spread in the sky, one moment takes them all away. Mark that "all!" That sin of midnight; that black sin which, like a Spirit, has haunted you all your life; that hideous crime; that unknown act of blackness which has darkened your character; that awful stain upon your conscience—they shall be all taken away. And though you have a stain upon that hand—a stain which you have often sought to wash out by all the mixtures that Moses can give thee—you shall find, when you are bathed in Jesus' blood, that you shall be able to say, "All clean, my Lord, all clean; not a spot now; all is gone; I am completely washed from head to foot; the stains are all removed." It is the glory of this removal of the curse that it is all taken away; there is not a single atom left. Hushed now is the law's loud thunder; the sentence is entirely reversed, and there is no fear left.

3. We must say again upon this point, that when Christ removes the curse, it is an irreversible removal. Once let me be acquitted, who is he who condemns me? There be some in these modern times who teach that God justifies, and yet, after that, condemns the same person whom he has justified. We have heard it asserted pretty boldly, that a man may be a child of God to-day—hear it, you heavens, and be astonished—and be a child of the devil tomorrow; we have heard it said, but we know it is untrue, for we find nothing in Scripture to warrant it. We have often asked ourselves, Can men really believe that, after having been "begotten again to a lively hope," that birth in God, through Christ, and by his Spirit, can yet fail? We have asked ourselves, Can men imagine that, after God has once broken our chains, and set us free, he will call us back, and bind us once again, like Prometheus, to the great rocks of despair? Will he once blot out the handwriting that is against us, and then record the charge again? Once pardoned, then condemned? We think, that had Paul been in the way of such men, he would have said, "Who is he who condemns? It is Christ that died; yes, rather, that is risen again. Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?" There is no condemnation to us, being in Christ Jesus; we "walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." It is a sweet thought, that Satan himself can never rob me of my pardon. I may lose my copy of it, and lose my comfort; but the original pardon is filed in Heaven. It may be that gloomy doubts may arise, and I may fear to think myself forgiven: but

"Did Jesus upon me shine?
Then Jesus is forever mine!"
 

"O! my distrustful heart!
How small your faith appears.
Far greater, Lord, you are,
Than all my doubts and fears.
'Midst all my sin, and fear, and woe,
Your Spirit will not let me go."

I love, at times, to go back to the hour when I hope I was forgiven through a Savior's blood. There is much comfort in it to remember that blessed hour when first we knew the Lord.

"Do mind the place, the spot of ground,
Where Jesus did you meet?"

Perhaps you do; perhaps you can look back to the very place where Jesus whispered you were his. Can you do so? O! how much comfort it will give you! for, remember, once acquitted, acquitted forever. So says God's word. Once pardoned, you are clear; once set at liberty, you shall never be a slave again; once has Sinai been appeased, it shall never roar twice. Blessed be God's name! we are brought to Calvary, and we shall be brought to Zion too. At last shall we stand before God; and even there we shall be able to say—

"Great God! I am clean;
Through Jesus' blood I'm clean."

III. And now we are brought, in the third place, to observe THE GREAT SUBSTITUTE by whom the curse is removed.

The curse of God is not easily taken away; in fact, there was but one method whereby it could be removed. The lightnings were in God's hand; they must be launched; he said they must. The sword was unsheathed; it must be satisfied; God vowed it must. How, then, was the sinner to be saved? The only answer was this. The Son of God appears; and he says, "Father! launch your thunderbolts at me; here is my breast—plunge that sword in here; here are my shoulders—let the lash of vengeance fall on them;" and Christ, the Substitute, came forth and stood for us, "the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God." It is our delight to preach the doctrine of substitution, because we are fully persuaded that no gospel is preached where substitution is omitted. Unless men are told positively and plainly that Christ did stand in their room and stead, to bear their guilt and carry their sorrows, they never can see how God is to be "just, and yet the justifier of the ungodly."

We have heard some preach a gospel, something after this order—that though God is angry with men, yet out of his great mercy, for the sake of something that Christ has done, he does not punish them, but remits the penalty. Now, we hold, that this is not of God's gospel; for it is neither just to God, nor safe to man. We believe that God never remitted the penalty, that he did not forgive the sin without punishing it, but that there was blood for blood, and stroke for stroke, and death for death, and punishment for punishment, without the abatement of a solitary jot or tittle; that Jesus Christ, the Savior, did drink the veritable cup of our redemption to its very dregs; that he did suffer beneath the awful crushing wheels of divine vengeance, the self-same pains and sufferings which we ought to have endured. O! the glorious doctrine of substitution! When it is preached fully and rightly, what a charm and what power it has. O! how sweet to tell sinners, that though God has said, "You must die," their Maker stoops his head to die for them and Christ incarnate breathes his last upon a tree, that God might execute his vengeance, and yet might pardon all believers in Jesus because he has met all the claims of divine justice on their account.

Should there be one here who does not understand substitution, let me repeat what I have said. Sinner, the only way you can be saved is this. God must punish sin; if he did not, he would undeify himself; but if he has punished sin in the person of Christ for you, you are fully absolved, you are quite clear; Christ has suffered what you ought to have suffered, and you may rejoice in that. "Well," say you, "I ought to have died." Christ has died! "I ought to have been sent to Hell." Christ did not go there to endure that torment forever; but he suffered an equivalent for it, something which satisfied God. The whole of Hell was distilled into his cup of sorrows; he drank it. The cup which his father gave him, he drank to its dregs.

"At one tremendous draught of love,
He drank destruction dry."

for all who believe in him. All the punishment, all the curse, on him was laid. Vengeance now was satisfied; all was gone, and gone forever; but not gone without having been taken away by the Savior. The thunders have not been reserved, they have been launched at him, and vengeance is satisfied, because Christ has endured the full penalty of all his people's guilt.

IV. Now we come to answer that last question: HOW MANY AMONG US CAN SAY, THAT "CHRIST HAS REDEEMED US FROM THE CURSE OF THE LAW, HAVING BEEN MADE A CURSE FOR US?"

The first part of our discourse has been entirely doctrinal; some of you have not cared for it, because you did not feel you were interested in it. It was natural it should be so. At the reading of a will, does the servant stay to listen? Nay, there is nothing for her; but if a man be a son, how does he open his ear to catch the sound, to know if there be an estate for him; and however ill the lawyer may read that will, how anxious he is to catch every word, and know if there is a portion for him among the children! Now, beloved, let us read the will again, to see if you belong to those for whom Christ made a satisfaction. The usual way with most of our congregation is this—they write themselves down for Christ's long before God has done it. You make a profession of religion, you wear a Christian's cloak, you behave like a Christian, you take a seat in a Christian church or chapel, and you think you are christianized at once; whereas one half of our congregations who fancy themselves to be Christians have made a great mistake; never were they more apart from any character than from being true Christians. Let me beg you not to suppose yourselves to be believers, because your parents were so, or because you belong to an orthodox church. Religion is a thing which we must have for ourselves; and it is a question which we all ought to ask, whether we are all interested in the atonement of Christ, and have a portion in the merits of his agonies?

Come, then, I will put a question to you. First, let me ask you this, my friend—Were you ever condemned by the law in your own conscience? "Nay, say you, "I know not what you meanest." Of course you do not; and you have no hope, then, that you are safe. But I will ask you yet again: Have you been condemned by the law in your conscience? Have you ever heard the word of God saying in your own soul, "Cursed is every one that continues not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them?" And have you felt that you were cursed? Did you ever stand before God's bar, like a poor condemned criminal before the judge, ready for execution? Have you, as John Bunyan would have had it, ever had the rope upon your neck? Have you ever seen the black cap put upon the face of your Judge? Have you ever thought yourself about to be turned off from the gallows? Have you ever walked the earth, as if at every step the earth would open beneath you, and swallow you up? Have you ever felt yourself to be a worthless, ruined, sin-condemned, law-condemned, conscience-condemned sinner? Have you ever fallen down before God, and said: "Lord, you are just; though you slay me, I will say, You are just; for I am sinful, and I deserve your wrath?" As the Lord lives, if you have never felt that, you are a stranger to his grace; for the man who acquits himself God condemns; and if the law condemn you, God will acquit you. So long as you have felt yourself condemned, you may know that Christ died for condemned ones, and shed his blood for sinners; but and if you fold your arms in self-security, if you say: "I am good, I am righteous, I am honorable," be you warned of this—your armor is the weaving of a spider; it shall be broken in pieces; the garments of the righteousness are light as the web of the gossamer, and shall be blown away by the breath of the Eternal, in that day when he will unspin all that nature has ever woven. Ay, I bid you now take heed; if you have never been condemned by the law, you have never been acquitted by grace.

And now another question I will ask you: Have you ever felt yourself to be acquitted by Christ? "No," says one, "I never expected to feel that; I thought that we might know it perhaps when we came to die—that a few eminent Christians might then possibly know themselves to be forgiven; but I think, sir, you are very enthusiastic to ask me whether I have ever felt myself to be forgiven." My dear friend, you mistake. Do you think, if a man had been a galley-slave, chained to an oar for many a year, if he were once set free he would not know whether he were free or not? Do you think that a slave who had been toiling for years, when once he trod upon the land of freedom, if you should say to him: "Do you know that you are emancipated?" Do you think he would not know it? Or a man that has been dead in his grave, if he were awakened to life, do you think he would not know it? There may be times when he has forgotten the season; but he will know himself to be alive; he will feel and know himself to be free. Tell me it is enthusiastic to ask you whether you have ever felt your chains broken? Sirs, if you have never felt your chains fall off from you, then be it know that your chains are on you; for when God breaks our chains from off us, we know ourselves to be free. The most of us, when God did set us free from our prison-house, did leap for very joy; and we remember the mountains and the hills did burst forth before us into singing, and the trees of the field did clap their hands. We shall never forget that gladsome moment; it is impressed upon our memory; we shall remember it until life's latest hour. I ask you, again, Did you ever feel yourself forgiven? And if you say "No," then you have no right to think you are. If Jesus has never whispered in your ear, "I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions," you have no right to think yourself pardoned. O! I beseech you, examine yourself, and know whether you have been condemned by the law, and whether you have been acquitted by Christ!

And, lastly, my friends, I may have, and doubtless have, many present here who have simply come to spend an hour, but who have no care, no interest, no concern about their own souls—who are, perhaps, utterly and entirely careless as to whether they are condemned or not. O! if I could speak to you as I would wish, I would speak—

"As though I never might speak again,
 A dying man to dying men."

When I remember that I shall likely enough never see the faces of many of you again, I feel that there is a deep and an awful responsibility lying on me to speak to such of you as are careless. There are some of you who are putting off the evil day; and you are saying, "If I be condemned, I care not for it." Ah! my friend, if I saw you carelessly asleep on your bed, when the flames were raging in your chamber, I would shout in your ear, or I would drag you from your couch of slumber. If I knew that while you had a bad disease within you, you would not take the medicine, and that if you did not take it you would die, I would implore you on my knees to take that medicine that would save you. But, alas! here you are; you are in danger of destruction, many of you, and you have a disease within you that must soon destroy your lives; and yet what careless, hardened, thoughtless creatures you are, just caring for the body, and not seeking for Christ! As the angel put his hand upon Lot, and said, "Look not behind you, neither stay you in all the plain, but flee to the mountain," so would I do to you. I would come to each of you, and say, "My brother, carelessness may avail you now; but carelessness will not stop the voice of death when he speaks. Indifference may silence my voice in your conscience; but when that gloomy skeleton tyrant comes to address you, indifference will not do then. Now you may laugh; now you may dance; now you may be merry; now your cup may be full to the brim; but what will you do in that day, when the heavens are clothed with glory, when the books are opened, when the great white throne is set, and when you come to be condemned or acquitted before your Maker? Do, I beseech you, do forestall the day. I beg of you, for Christ's sake, bethink yourself even now before your Judge; conceive him there in yonder heavens upon his throne; imagine that now you are looking upon him. Oh! my hearer, what will you do? You are before the judgment-throne, without Christ; you are there naked. 'Rocks! hide me! hide me! hide me! I am naked!' But you are dragged out, sinner! What will you do now? You are dragged naked before your Judge. I see you bend your knee; I hear you cry, 'O Jesus, clothe me now!' 'Nay,' says Jesus, 'the robe now is hung up forever, not to be worn by you.' 'Savior! spread your wings over me!' 'Nay,' says he, 'I called, and you refused; I stretched out my hand, and no man regarded. I also will laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear comes.'" Do I talk realities, or mere fictions? Why, realities; and yet if I were reading a novel to you, you would be lost in tears; but when I tell you God's truth, that soon his chariot shall descend to earth, and he shall judge us all, you sit unmoved and careless of that event. But oh! be it known to every careless sinner, death and judgment are not the things they fancy; everlasting wrath and eternal severance from God are not such light things to endure as they have conceived. "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." "Who among us shall dwell with devouring fire? Who among us shall abide with everlasting torments?"

But to close: have I one here who is saying, "What must I do to be saved, for I feel myself condemned?" Hear you Christ's own words—"He who believes and is baptized shall be saved; but he who believes not shall be damned." Do you ask me what it is to believe? Hear, then, the answer. To believe is to look to Jesus. that little word "look" expresses beautifully what a sinner is to do. There is little in its appearance, but there is much in its meaning. Believing is letting the hands lie still, and turning the eyes to Christ. We can not be saved by our hands; but we are saved through our eyes, when they look to Jesus. Sinner! it is no use for you to try and save yourself; but to believe in Christ is the only way of salvation; and that is, throwing self behind your back, and putting Christ right before you.

I never can find a better figure than the Negro's one: to believe is to fall flat down upon the promise, and there to lie. To believe is as a man would do in a stream. It is said, that if we were to fold our arms, and lie motionless, we could not sink. To believe is to float upon the stream of grace. I grant you, you shall do afterward; but you must live before you can do. The gospel is the reverse of the law. The law says, "Do and live;" the gospel says, "Live first, then do." The way to do, poor sinner, is to say, "Here, Jesus, here I am; I give myself to you." I never had a better idea of believing than I once had from a poor countryman. I may have mentioned this before; but it struck me very forcibly at the time, and I can not help repeating it. Speaking about faith he said, "The old enemy has been troubling me very much lately; but I told him that he must not say anything to me about my sins, he must go to my Master, for I had transferred the whole concern to him, bad debts and all." That is believing. Believing is giving up all we have to Christ, and taking all Christ has to ourselves. It is changing houses with Christ, changing clothes with Christ, changing our unrighteousness for his righteousness, changing our sins for his merits. Execute the transfer, sinner; rather, may God's grace execute it, and give you faith in it; and then the law will be no longer your condemnation, but it shall acquit you. May Christ add his blessing! May the Holy Spirit rest upon us! And may we meet at last in Heaven! Then will we "sing to the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he has made us accepted in the Beloved.