Why Are Men Saved? 2
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But by continually praying in his own family at home, he came to pray like the rest of the brethren, and he went on until he became a preacher, and, singularly enough, he had suddenly — a depth of understanding and a power of thought, such as are seldom found among ministers who only occasionally occupy pulpits. Strange it was, that grace should even tend to develop his natural powers, giving him an object, setting him devoutly and firmly upon it, and so bringing out all his resources that they were fully shown. Ah, ignorant ones, you need not despair. He saved them; not for their sakes — there was nothing in them why they should be saved. He saved them, not for their wisdom's sake, but, ignorant though they were, understanding not the meaning of his miracles, "he saved them for his name's sake."
Note, again, they were a very ungrateful people, and yet he saved them. He delivered them times without number, and worked for them mighty miracles but they still rebelled. Ah, that is like you, my hearer. You have had many deliverances from the borders of the grave; God has given you house and food day after day, and provided for you, and kept you to this hour; but how ungrateful you have been, As Isaiah said, "The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master's crib; but my people cloth not know, Israel cloth not consider." Mow many there are of this character, who have favors from God, the history of which they could not give in a year; but yet what have they ever done for him? They would not keep a horse that did not work for them, nor as much as a dog that would not notice them. But here is God; he has kept them day by day, and they have done a great deal against him but they have done nothing for him. He has put the bread into their very mouths, nurtured them, and sustained their strength, and they have spent their strength in defying him, in cursing his name and breaking his Sabbath. "Nevertheless he saved them." Some of this sort have been saved. I hope I have some here now who will be saved by conquering grace, made new men by the mighty power of God's Spirit. "Nevertheless he saved them." When there was nothing to recommend them but every reason why they should be cast away for their ingratitude, "Nevertheless he saved them."
And note, once more, they were a provoking people — "They provoked him at the sea, even at the Red Sea." Ah! how many people there are in this world that are a provoking people to God! If God were like man, who among us would be here to-day? If we are provoked once or twice, up goes the hand. With some men their passion stirs at the very first offense others, who are somewhat more placid will bear offense after offense, until at last they say, "there is an end to everything, and I can bear that no longer; you must stay it, or else I must stay you!" Ah! if God had that temper, where should we be? Well might he say, "My thoughts are not as your thoughts; I am God, I change not, or else you sons of Jacob had been consumed." They were a provoking people, "nevertheless he saved them." Have you provoked him? Take heart; if you repent, God has promised to save you; and what is more, he may this morning give you repentance, and even give you remission of sins, for he saves provoking people for his name's sake. I hear one of my hearers say, — "Well, sir, that is encouraging sin with vigilance!" Is it indeed, sir! Why? "Because you are talking to the very worst of men, All you are saying that they may yet be saved." Pray, sirs, when I spoke to the worst of men, did I speak to you or not? You say "No; I am one of the most respectable and best of men." Well then, sir I have no need to preach to you, for you think you do not need any. "The whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick."
But these poor people, whom you say I am encouraging in sin, need to be spoken to. I will leave you. Good morning to you! You keep to your own gospel, and I wonder whether you will find your way to heaven by it. Nay, I do not wonder, I know you will not, unless you are brought as a poor sinner to take Christ at his word, and be saved for his name's sake. But I say farewell to you, and I will keep on in my course. But why did you say I encourage men in sin? I encourage them to turn from it. I did not say he saved the provoking people, and then let them still provoke him as they had done before; I did not say he saved the wicked people, and then let them sin as they did before. But you know the meaning of the word "saved;" I explained it the other morning. The word "saved" does not mean merely taking men to heaven, it means more — it means saving them from their sin; it means giving them a new heart, new spirits, new lives; it means making them into new men. Is there anything licentious in saying that Christ takes the worst of men to make them into saints? If there be, I cannot see it. I only wish he would take the worst of this congregation and make them into the saints of the living God, and then there would be far less licentiousness.
Sinner, I comfort you; not in your sin, but in your repentance. Sinner, the saints of heaven were once as bad as you hast been. Are you a drunkard, a swearer, an unclean person? "Such were some of them; but they have been washed — but they have been sanctified." Is your robe black? Ask them whether their robes were ever black? They will tell you, "Yes, we have washed our robes." If they had been black, they would not have wanted washing. "We have washed our robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Then, sinner, if they were black, and were saved, why not yourself? "Are not his mercies rich and free? Then say, my soul, why not for you? Our Jesus died upon the tree, Then why, my soul, why not for you?" Take heart, penitents; God will have mercy on you. "Nevertheless he saved them for his name's sake."
III. Now we come to the third point — THE REASON OF SALVATION: "He saved them for his name's sake." There is no other reason why God should save a man, but for his name's sake, there is nothing in a sinner which can entitle him to salvation, or recommend him to mercy; it must be God's own heart which must dictate the motive why men are to be saved. One person says, "God will save me, because I am so upright." Sir, he will do no such thing. Says another, "God will save me because I am so talented." Sir, he will not. Your talent! Why you drivelling, self-conceited idiot, your talent is nothing compared with that of the angel that once stood before the throne, and sinned, and who now is cast into the bottomless pit for ever! If he would save men for their talent, he would have saved Satan; for he had talents enough. As for your morality and goodness, it is but filthy rags, and he will never save you for aught you do. None of us would ever be saved, if God expected anything of us: we must be saved purely and solely for reasons connected with himself, and lying in his own bosom. Blessed be his name, he saves us for "his name's sake." What does that mean? I think it means this: the name of God is his person, his attributes, and his nature.
For his nature's sale, for his very attributes' sake, he saved men; and, perhaps, we may include this also: "My name is in him" — that is, in Christ; he saves us for the sake of Christ, who is the name of God. And what does that mean? I think it means this; He saved them, first that he might manifest his nature. God was all love, and he wanted to manifest it; he did show it when he made the sun, the moon, and the stars, and scattered flowers o'er the green and laughing earth. He did show his love when he made the air balmy to the body, and the sunshine cheering to the eye. He gives us warmth even in winter, by the clothing and by the fuel which he has stored in the affections of the earth, but he wanted to reveal himself still more. "How can I show them that I love them with all my infinite heart? I will give my Son to die to save the very worst of them, and so I will manifest my nature." And God has done it, he has manifested his power, his justice, his love, his faithfulness, and his truth, he has manifested his whole self on the great platform of salvation. It was, so to speak, the balcony on which God stepped to show himself to man — the balcony of salvation — here it is he manifests himself, by saving men's souls.
He did it, again, to vindicate his name. Some say God is gruel; they wickedly call him tyrant. "Ah!" says God, "but I will save the worst of sinners, and vindicate my name; I will blot out the stigma; I will remove the slur; they shall not be able to say that, unless they be filthy liars, for I will be abundantly merciful. I will take away this stain, and they shall see that my great name is a name of love." And said he, again, "I will do this for my name's sake, that is, to make these people love my name. I know if I take the best of men, and save them, they will love my name; but if I take the worst of men, oh, how they will love me! If I go and take some of the off-scouring of the earth, and make them my children, oh, how they will love me! Then they will cleave to my name, they will think it more sweet than music; it will be more precious to them than the spikenard of the Eastern merchants; they will value it as gold, yes, as much fine gold. The man who loves me best, is the man who has most sins forgiven: he owes much, therefore he will love much."
This is the reason why God often selects the worst of men to make them his. Says an old writer, "In the carvings of heaven were made out of knots; the temple of God, the king of heaven, is a cedar one, but the cedars were all knotty trees before he cut them down." He chose the worst, that he might display his workmanship and his skill, to make unto himself a name; as it is written, "It shall be unto me for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." Now, dear hearers, of whatever class you are, here is something I have to offer well worthy of your consideration, namely — that if saved, we are saved for the sake of God, for his name's sake, and not for our own.
Now this puts all men on a level with regard to salvation. Suppose that in coming into this garden, the rule had been that every one should have made mention of my name as the key of admittance; the law is, that no man is to be admitted for his rank or title, but only by the use of a certain name. Up comes a lord; he makes use of the name and comes in: up comes a beggar, all in patches, he makes use of the name — the law says it is only the use of the name that will admit you — he makes use of it and he enters, for there is no distinction. So, my lady, if you come, with all your morality, you must male use of His name: if you come, poor filthy inhabitant of a cellar or a garret, and make use of His name, the doors will fly wide open, for there is salvation for every one who makes mention of the name of Christ, and for none other. This pulls down the pride of the moralist, abases the self-exaltation of the self-righteous, and puts us all, as guilty sinners, on an equal footing before God, to receive mercy at his hands, "For his name's sake," and for that reason alone.
IV. I have detained you too long; let me close by noticing obstacles removed, in the word "nevertheless." I shall do that in somewhat of an interesting form, by way of parable.
Once on a time, Mercy sat upon her snow-white throne, surrounded by the troops of love. A sinner was brought before her, whom Mercy designed to save. The herald blew the trumpet, and after three blasts thereof; with a loud voice, he said, "O heaven, and earth, and hell, I summon you this day to come before the throne of Mercy, to tell why this sinner should not be saved." There stood the sinner trembling with fear; he knew that there were multitudes of opponents, who would press into the hall of Mercy, and with eyes full of wrath, would say "He must not, and he shall not escape; he must be lost!" The trumpet was blown, and Mercy sat placidly on her throne, until there stepped in one with a fiery countenance, his head was covered with light, he spoke with a voice like thunder and out of his eyes flashed lightning "Who are you?" said Mercy. He replied, "I am Law; the law of God." "And whet hast you to say?" "I have this to say," and he lifted up a stony tablet, written on both sides. "these ten commands this wretch has broken. My demand is blood; for it is written, ‘The soul that sins it shall die.' Die he, or justice must."
The wretch trembles, his knees knock together, the marrow of his bones melts within him, as if they were foe dissolved by fire, and he shakes with very fright. Already he thought he saw the thunderbolt launched at him, he saw the lightning penetrate into his soul, hell yawned before him in imagination, and he thought himself cast away for ever. But Mercy smiled, and said, "Law, I will answer you. This wretch deserves to die; justice demands that he should perish — I award you your claim." And oh! how the sinner trembles. "But there is one yonder who has come with me to-day, my king, my Lord, his name is Jesus, he will tell you how the debt can be paid, and the sinner can go free." Then Jesus spake, and said, "O Mercy, I will do your bidding.
Take me Lord, put me in a garden, make me sweat drops of blood, then nail me to a tree, scourge my back before you put me to death; hang me on the cross; let blood run from my hands and feet. Let me descend into the grave; let me pay all the sinner owes. I will die in his stead." And the Law went out and scourged the Savior, nailed him to the cross, and coming back with his face all bright with satisfaction, stood again at the throne of Mercy, and Mercy said, "Law, what hast you now to say?" "Nothing," said he, "fair angel, nothing." "What! not one of these commands against him?" "No, not one. Jesus, his substitute, has kept them all — has paid the penalty for his disobedience, and now, instead of his condemnation, I demand as a debt of justice that he be acquitted." "Stand here," said Mercy, "sit on my throne; I and you together will now send forth another summons."
The trumpet rang again. "Come hither, all you who have aught to say against this sinner, why he should not be acquitted ," and up comes another — one who often troubled the sinner, one who had a voice not so loud as that of the Law, but still piercing and thrilling — a voice whose whispers were like the cuttings of a dagger. "Who are you?" says Mercy. "I am Conscience, this sinner must be punished; he has done so much against the law of God that he must be punished; I demand it; and I will give him no rest until he is punished, nor even then, for I will follow him even to the grave and persecute him after death with pangs unutterable," "Nay," said Mercy, "Hear me" and while he paused for a moment she took a bunch of hyssop and sprinkled Conscience with the blood, saying "Hear me, Conscience, "The blood of Jesus Christ. God's Son, cleanses us from all sin, Now hast you ought to say?" "No," said Conscience, "nothing."
"Covered is his unrighteousness
From condemnation he is free."
Henceforth I will not grieve him; I will be a good conscience unto him, through the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ." The trumpet rang a third time, and growling from the innermost vaults, up there came a grim black fiend, with hate in his eyes, and hellish majesty on his brows. He is asked, "Have you anything against that sinner?" "Yes," said he "I have he has made a league with hell, and a covenant with the grave, and here it is signed with his own hand. He asked God to destroy his soul in a drunken fit, and vowed he would never turn to God; see, here is his covenant with hell!" "Let us look at it," said Mercy; and it was handed up, while the grim fiend looked at the sinner, and pierced him through with his black looks. "Ah! but," said Mercy, "this man had no right to sign the deed; a man must not sign away another's property. This man was bought and paid for long beforehand; he is not his own; the covenant with death is disannulled, and the league with hell is rent in pieces. Go your way Satan," "Nay," said he, howling again, "I have something else to say: that man was always my friend, he listened ever to my insinuations; he scoffed at the gospel, he scorned the majesty of heaven; is he to be pardoned, while I repair to my hellish den, for ever to bear the penalty of guilt?" Said Mercy, "Avaunt, you fiend; these things he did in the days of his unregeneracy; but this word ‘nevertheless' blots them out. Go you to your hell; take this for another lash upon yourself — the sinner shall be pardoned, but you — never, treacherous fiend!"
And then Mercy, smilingly turning to the sinner, said, "Sinner, the trumpet must be blown for the last time!" Again it was blown, and no one answered. Then stood the sinner up, and Mercy said, "Sinner ask yourself the question — ask you of heaven, of earth, of hell — whether any can condemn you?" And the sinner stood up, and with a bold loud voice said, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?" And he looked into hell, and Satan lay there, biting his iron bonds; and he looked on earth, and earth was silent; and in the majesty of faith the sinner did even climb to heaven itself, and he said, "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? God?" And the answer came, "No; he justifies." "Christ?" Sweetly it was whispered, "No; he died." Then turning round, the sinner joyfully exclaimed, "Who shall separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." And the once condemned sinner came back to Mercy; prostrate at her feet he lay, and vowed henceforth to be hers for ever, if she would keep him to the end, and make him what she would desire him to be. Then no longer did the trumpet ring, but angels rejoiced, and heaven was glad, for the sinner was saved.
Thus, you see, I have what is called, dramatized the thing; but I don't care what it is called; it is a way of arresting the ear, when nothing else will. "Nevertheless;" there is the obstruction taken away! Sinner, whatever be the "nevertheless," it shall never the less abate the Savior's love; not the less shall it ever make it, but it shall remain the same. "Come, guilty soul, and flee away To Christ and heal your wounds; This is the glorious gospel-day, Wherein free grace abounds. Come to Jesus, sinner, come." On your knee weep out a sorrowful confession; look to his cross, and see the substitute; believe, and live. You almost demons, you that have gone farthest in sin, now, Jesus says, "If you know your need of me, turn unto me, and I will have mercy upon you: and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon."
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