Spurgeon and His Saviour

 
 

Christ – The believer’s Vision.

In the final vision, it is Christ that the glorified saints shall see; and further; it is his face that they behold. They shall not see the skirts of his robe as Moses saw the back parts of Jehovah; they shall not touch the hem of his garment, or sit down at his feet so they can only see his sandals, but they “shall see his face.” By this I understand two things; first, that they shall literally and physically, with their risen bodies, actually look into the face of Jesus; and secondly, that spiritually, their mental faculties shall be so enlarged that they shall be enabled to look into the very heart, and soul, and character of Christ, so as to understand him in his work, his love, his all-in-all, as they never understood him before. They shall literally, I say, see his face, for Christ is no phantom; and in heaven, though divine and therefore spiritual, he is still a Man, and therefore material like ourselves. The very flesh and blood that suffered upon Calvary is in heaven; the hand that was pierced with the nail, now at this moment grasps the sceptre of all worlds; that very head which was bowed down with anguish is now crowned with a royal diadem; and the face that was so marred is the very face which beams resplendent amidst the thrones of heaven. Into that self-same countenance we shall be permitted to gaze.


Christ – the Preacher’s Theme for Sinners.

I will preach my Lord upon the throne and delight therein, but the great remedy for ruined manhood is not Christ in glory, but Christ in shame and death. We know some who “select” Christ’s second advent as their one great theme, and we would not silence them ; yet they do err. The second coming is a glorious hope for saints, but there is no cure in it for sinners; to them the coming of the Lord is darkness and not light; but Christ smitten for our sins, there is the star which breaks the sinners midnight. I know that if I preached Christ on the throne continually, many proud hearts would have him; but oh, sirs, ye must have Christ on the cross before you can know him on the throne. You must bow before the crucified; you must trust a dying Saviour; for if you pretend to honour him by the glories that are to come, you do but belie him, and you know him not. To the cross, to the cross; write that upon the signposts of the road to the city of refuge! Fly there, you guilty ones, as to the only sanctuary for the sinful, for “With his stripes we are healed.”


Christ – the Father’s Joy.

You have in your home, no doubt, some trifle which, notwithstanding its little value, you would not sell for a thousand times its weight in gold, because it belonged to a son or daughter now, perhaps, departed this life. That little memento is connected with some small deed of daring or act of generosity on the part of your beloved child, and therefore, though in itself nothing, you count it very precious. Now, to the Father in heaven, you, fellow-believer, are a memorial of the Saviour’s condescension in taking upon himself the form of a servant, and being made in the likeness of human flesh. You are a memorial of his being found in fashion as a man, and becoming subject to death, even the death of the cross. As God looks at each of you, he sees what his Son has done, beholds in you the griefs of Calvary, hears anew the sighs of Olivet and the groans of Golgotha. You are to God, therefore, most precious, as the token and memorial of the death of his Well-beloved.


Christ – the Believer’s Reality.

The Christ of some professors of religion is only fit to occupy a niche on the church wall, as a dead, inactive, yet revered person of the past. Jesus is not a real Christ to many; he is not a Christ who can really befriend them in the hour of grief; not a brother born for adversity; not a condescending companion. But the Christ of a well taught Christian is one that liveth and was dead and is alive for evermore.


Let not Jesus be a shadow to you, or your religion will be unsubstantial. Let him not be simply a name to you, or your religion will be nominal. Let him not be a myth of history, or your religion will be mere fancy. Let him not be alone a teacher, or you will lack a Saviour. Let him not be alone an example, or you will fail to appreciate the merit of his blood. But let him be the beginning and the ending, the first and last, the all-in-all of your spirits.