The Savior's Many Crowns 2
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And then again, Christ wears about his head the crown of DEATH. He died, and in that dreadful hour he overcame death, rifled the sepulcher, split the stone which guarded the mouth of the grave, hewed death in pieces and destroyed the arch-destroyer! Christ seized the iron limbs of Death and ground them to powder in his hand! Death swayed his scepter over all the bodies of men, but Christ has opened the gate of resurrection for his redeemed ones, and in that day when he shall put the trumpet to his lips and blow the resurrection blast, then shall it be seen how Christ is universal monarch over all the domains of death, for as the Lord our Savior rose, so all his followers must!
And then again, Christ is not only Lord of the world, king of sin, and king of death, but he is king of SATAN also. He met that arch fiend foot to foot. Fearful was the struggle, for our Champion sweat as it were, great drops of blood falling to the ground — but he hewed his way to victory through his own body, and through the agonies of his own soul.
Desperate was the encounter. Head and hands, and feet and heart were wounded, but the Savior did not flinch from the fight. He tore the lion of the pit as though it were a lamb, and broke the dragon's head in pieces! Satan was nibbling at Christ's heel, Christ trod on him and smashed his head! Now has Jesus led captivity captive, and is master over all the hosts of hell. Glorious is that victory! Angels repeat the triumphant strain, his redeemed take up the song; and you, you blood-bought sons of Adam, praise him too, for he has overcome all the evil of hell itself.
And yet, once again, another crown has Christ, and that is the crown of victory over MAN. Would to God, my hearers, that he wore a crown for each of you. What hard work it is to fight with the evil heart of man. If you wish him to do evil, you can soon overcome him; but if you would overcome him with good, how hard the struggle!
Christ could have man's heart, but man would not give it to him. Christ tried him in many a way- he wooed him, but man's heart was hard and would not melt. Moses came, and said, "My Master, let me try and open man's heart;" and he used the fire, and the whirlwind, and the hammer of God — but the heart would not break, and the spirit would not open to Christ. Then Christ came, and he said, "Hard-heart, I WILL win you; O, icy Soul, I WILL melt you." And the Soul said. "No, Jesus, I defy you." But Christ said, "I WILL do it."
And he came once upon a time to the poor Hard-heart, and brought his CROSS with him. "See, Hard-heart," said he, "I love you; though you love not me, yet I love you, and in proof of this, see here — I will hang upon this cross." And as Hard-heart looked on, suddenly fierce men nailed the Savior to the tree. His hands were pierced; his soul was torn in agony, and looking down on the Hard-heart, Jesus said, "Hard-heart, will you not love me? I love you; I have redeemed you from death; though you hate me, yet do I die for you; though you kick against me, yet will I surely carry you to my throne."
And the Hard-heart said, "Jesus, I can bear it no longer, I yield to you. Your love has overcome me! Oh, I would be your subject for ever, only remember me when you come into your kingdom, and let me be numbered with your subjects both now and for ever."
My hearers, has Christ ever overcome you? Say, has his love been too much for you? Have you been compelled to give up your sins, wooed by his love divine? Have your eyes been made to run with tears at the thought of his affection for you, and of your own ingratitude to him? Have you ever thought this over — "I, the blackest of sinners, have despised him- his Bible I have left unread- his blood I have trampled under foot, and yet he died for me, and loved me with an everlasting love!" Surely, this has made you bow your knee; this has made your spirit cry — "Oh, sovereign grace my heart subdue; I will be led in triumph, too, A willing captive to my Lord To sing the triumphs of his Word." If this be the case with you, then you may yourself recognize one of the many crowns that are on his head.
III. Now, this brings me to the third point, and may I very earnestly ask your prayers, that, feeble as I am this morning, I may be helped while I endeavor to dwell upon this sweet subject.
I am preaching in my own spirit against wind and tide. There are times when one preaches with pleasure and delight, enjoying the Word, but now I can get nothing for myself, even if I am giving you anything. Pray for me, that nevertheless the Word may be blessed, that in my weakness God's strength may appear.
The third head deals with the CROWNS OF THANKSGIVING. Surely, concerning these we may well say, "On his head are many crowns." In the first place, all the mighty DOERS in Christ's church ascribe their crown to him. What a glorious crown is that which Elijah will wear — the man who went to Ahab, and when Ahab said, "Have you found me, O my enemy?" reproved him to his very face — the man who took the prophets of Baal, and let not one of them escape, but hewed them in pieces and made them a sacrifice to God. What a crown will he wear who ascended into heaven in a chariot of fire!
What a crown, again, belongs to Daniel, saved from the lion's den — Daniel, the earnest prophet of God. What a crown will be that which shall glitter on the head of the weeping Jeremiah, and the eloquent Isaiah! What crowns are those which shall begirt the heads of the apostles! What a weighty diadem is that which Paul shall receive for his many years of service! And then, my friends, how shall the crown of Luther glitter, and the crown of Calvin; and what a noble diadem shall that be which Whitfield shall wear, and all those men who have so valiantly served God, and who by his might have put to flight the armies of the aliens, and have maintained the gospel banner erect in troublous times!
No, but let me point to you a scene. Elijah enters heaven, and where does he go with that crown which is instantly put upon his head? See, he flies to the throne, and stooping there, he uncrowns himself; "Not unto me, not unto me but unto your name be all the glory!" See the prophets as they steam in one by one; without exception, they put their crowns upon the head of Christ. And mark the apostles, and all the mighty teachers of the church; they all bow there and cast their crowns at his feet, who, by his grace, enabled them to win those crowns. "I ask them whence their victory came; They, with united breath, Ascribe their triumph to the Lamb, Their conquest to his death."
Not only the mighty doers, but the mighty SUFFERERS do this. How brilliant are the 'ruby crowns' of the martyred saints. From the stake, from the gibbet, from the fire, they ascended up to God; and among the bright ones they are doubly bright, fairest of the mighty host that surrounds the throne of the Blessed One. What crowns they wear! I must confess that I have often envied them. It is a happy thing to live in peaceful days; but while happy, it is not honorable. How much more honorable to have died the death of Lawrence- grilled to death upon that fiery gridiron. Or to die pierced with spears, with every bone dislocated on the rack! A noble way of serving Christ- to have stood calmly in the midst of the fires, and have clapped one's hands, and cried. "I can do all things, even give my body to be burned for his dear names sake!"
What crowns are those which martyr's wear! An angel might blush to think that his dignity was so small compared with that of those riders in chariots of fire. Where are all those crowns? They are on the head of Christ! Not a martyr wears his crown; they all take their blood-red crowns, and then they place them on his brow — the fire crown, the rack crown, there I see them all glitter on the head of Christ! For it was his love that helped them to endure; it was by his blood that they overcame.
And then, brethren, think of another list of crowns. They who turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. There are a few men whom God has enabled to do much for the church and much for the world. They spend and are spent. Their bodies know no rest, their souls no ease. Like chariots instinct with life, or dragged by unseen but resistless coursers, they fly from duty to duty, from labor to labor. What crowns shall theirs be when they come before God, when the souls they have saved shall enter paradise with them, and when they shall say, "Here am I and the children which you have given me!
What shouts of acclamation, what honors, what rewards shall then be given to the WINNERS OF SOULS! What will they do with their crowns? Why, they will take them from their heads and lay them there where sits the Lamb in the midst of the throne. There will they bow and cry, "Jesus, we were not saviors, you did it all- we were but your servants. The victory belongs not to us but to our Master. We did reap, but you did sow. We did cast in the net, but you did fill it full. Our success is accomplished through your strength, and by the power of your grace." Well may it be said of Christ, "On his head are many crowns."
But see, another host approaches. I see a company of cherubic spirits flying upwards to Christ; and who are these? I know them not. They are not numbered among the martyrs; I read not their names among the apostles; I do not even distinguish them as having been written among the saints of the living God. Who are these? I ask one of them, "Who are you, you bright and sparkling spirits?" The leader replies, "We are the glorious myriad of INFANTS, who compose the family above. We from our mother's breasts fled straight to heaven, redeemed by the blood of Christ. We were washed from original depravity, and we have entered heaven. From every nation of the earth have we come; from the days of the first infant even to the winding up of earth's history, we in flocks have sped hither like doves to their windows." "How came you here, you little ones?" They reply, "through the blood of Christ, and we come to crown him Lord of all." I see the countless multitude surround the Savior, and flying to him, each one puts its crown upon his head, and then begins to sing again louder than before.
But yonder I see another company following them. "And who are you?" The reply is, "Our history on earth is the very opposite of the story of those bright spirits that have gone before. We lived on earth for sixty, or seventy, or eighty years, until we tottered into our graves from very weakness; when we died there was no marrow in our bones, our hair had grown gray, and we were crisp and dry with age." "How did you come here?" They reply — "After many years of strife with the world, of trials and of troubles, we entered heaven at last." "And you have crowns I see." "Yes," they say, "but we do not intend to wear them." "Where are you going then?" "We are going to yonder throne for our crowns have been surely given us by grace, for nothing but grace could have helped us to weather the storm so many, many years." I see the grave and reverend sires pass one by one before the throne, and there they lay their crowns at his blessed feet, and then shouting with the infant throng, they cry, "Salvation unto him that sits on the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever."
And then I see following behind them another class. And who are you? Their answer is "We are the chief of sinners, saved by grace." And here they come — Saul of Tarsus, and Manasseh, and Rahab, and many of the same class. And how did you come here? They reply, "We have had much forgiven, we were grievous sinners, but the love of Christ reclaimed us, the blood of Christ washed us, and whiter than snow are we, though once we were black as hell." And where are you going? They reply, "We are going to cast our crowns at his feet, and Crown him Lord of all." Among that throng, my dear hearers, I hope it may be my lot to stand.
Washed from many sins, redeemed by precious blood, happy will that moment be, when I shall take my crown from off my head, and put it on the head of him whom having not seen I love, but in whom believing, I rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. And it is a happy thought for me, this morning that many of you will go with me there. Come brother and sisters; in a few more years, many of us who have met Sunday after Sunday in this Music Hall, will walk up in one hand; and without exception, you saints of God, I am persuaded we shall be prepared there to lay all our honors down, and to ascribe unto him the glory for ever and ever.
"Ah, but" says Little-Faith, "I fear I shall never get into heaven, and therefore I shall never crown him." Yes, but Little-Faith, do you know that one of the richest crowns Christ ever wears, and one of the brightest which adorns his brow, is the crown which Little-Faith puts on his head? For Little-Faith when it gets to heaven will say, "O what grace has been shown to me, that though the lowest of the family, I have still been kept — though least of all the saints, yet hell has not prevailed against me — though weaker than the weakest, yet as my days so has my strength been." Will not your gratitude be great? Will not your song be loud, when approaching his dear feet, you lay your honors there and cry, "Blessed be Jesus who has kept my poor soul in all its dangers, and brought me safely at last to himself!" "On his head were many crowns!"
I cannot preach any longer, but I must ask you this question, my dear hearers: Have you a crown to put on the head of Jesus Christ today? "Yes," says one, "I have. I must crown him for having delivered me out of my last great trouble." "I must crown him," says another, "for he has kept up my spirits when I was well near despairing." "I must crown him," says another, "for he has crowned me with loving-kindness and tender mercy."
Methinks I see one standing yonder who says, "Would that I could crown him. If he would but save me, I would crown him. Ah, if he would but give himself to me, I would gladly give myself to him. But I am too worthless and too vile." No, my brother, but does your heart say, "Lord have mercy upon me?" Does your soul now crave pardon and forgiveness through the blood of Christ? Then go boldly near him this day and say to him, "Jesus, I the chief of sinners am, but I rely upon you;" and in so saying you put a crown upon his head which shall make glad his heart, even as in the day when his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals. Make this the day of your espousals to him. Take him to be your all in all, and then may you look at this text with pleasure and say, "Yes, on his head are many crowns, and I have put one there, and I shall put another there before long." God add his blessing, for Jesus sake! Amen.
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