One Antidote for Many Ills

One Antidote for Many Ills

Spurgeon takes the repeated refrain of Psalm 80 — "Turn us again, O Lord, cause your face to shine, and we shall be saved" — as the church's one all-sufficient prayer for every ill, arguing that because all problems trace to one source (the withdrawal of God's favor) they can all be cured by one remedy (his return), and he identifies the genuine benefits of revival as the salvation of sinners, the healing of church quarrels and divisions that flourish in idleness, the silencing of enemies by holy living, and above all the glory of God which only a spiritually alive church can render. He then turns the two-part prayer into a searching personal application — "turn us again" is addressed in turn to the minister (who must preach with fearless fidelity), to workers (who must serve with deeper dependence on the Spirit), to intercessors (who must pray with greater agonizing earnestness), and to every member (whose daily business, family life, speech, and habits must be brought into full honesty and godliness) — and "cause your face to shine" is identified as the indispensable divine element without which all human effort and increased numbers amount to nothing. He closes by urging every believer to turn present resolutions immediately into prayers rather than letting them dissolve, and with a tender appeal to unconverted hearers to recognize how much God's people groan over their souls and how precious those souls are in heaven's reckoning, before turning with a final corporate prayer that God would do what no human effort can — pour out revival upon his church and bring many reluctant hearts to himself. Sermon delivered by Charles Spurgeon on November 9th, 1859.

The Sweet Uses Of Adversity

When people go through hard times, they often ask God, “Why are You letting this happen to me?” Spurgeon explains that when God allows struggles, it isn’t because He hates us — it’s because He loves us and is doing something important in our lives. Sometimes God uses difficulties to show His strength by helping us stand firm even when life is painful. Other times, He uses problems to help us grow stronger in our faith, the same way exercise strengthens muscles. Hard times can also reveal hidden sins or bad habits we need to let go of. God may even use suffering to protect us from future mistakes we don’t see coming. Most of all, Spurgeon says that suffering makes us more like Jesus, who also suffered. Even though adversity hurts, it can bring us closer to God, teach us humility, and help our faith become deeper and more real. Sermon delivered by Charles Spurgeon on November 13th, 1859.

Christ's Estimate of His People

Spurgeon takes Christ's words to his bride in Song of Solomon 4:10-11 as a genuine expression of how Jesus actually estimates his people — their love is to him better than wine (a luxury and a refreshment), their graces smell sweeter than all spices, their words drop like honeycomb, the thoughts they never quite manage to speak lie under their tongue like honey and milk, and their daily actions smell to him like the cedars of Lebanon — and he argues this is not flattery but Christ's sincere valuation, which he set so high that even during his agony on the cross it was the thought of his people's love that cheered him. He is at pains to show that Christ does not estimate these things by their strength but by their sincerity, so the believer's feeble prayers, cold faith, stumbling words, and humble daily work are all precious to him — and he delights especially in the thought that even unspoken groans, unformed meditations, and the things too good to quite come out in words, are all observed and treasured. He closes with a practical application: since Christ so values the common actions of servants, tradespeople, and shopkeepers done honestly and conscientiously as much as sermons preached from pulpits, every believer can serve him all day long in any calling — and rather than producing pride, this knowledge of Christ's approval should overwhelm the soul with humility and drive it to love him more, pray more richly, and live more holily in grateful response. Sermon delivered by Charles Spurgeon on January 23rd, 1859.

The Savior's Many Crowns

Spurgeon organizes his meditation on "many crowns" into three categories: crowns of dominion — Christ reigns as King of Heaven commanding angels, King of Hell holding the chains of the damned, King of creation who spoke the universe into being, King of providence who sustains every atom, and King of grace who opens and shuts the door of mercy — making the point that there is nowhere a believer can go where Christ does not reign, so every fear is groundless and every burden should be left in his hands. He then turns to crowns of victory — won in fierce battles against the world (which tried poverty, threats, and blandishments and failed), against sin (whose poison Christ absorbed in his own body), against death (whose domain he broke open at the resurrection), against Satan (whose head he crushed in the very hour of his own wounding), and against the hard human heart (which yields only to the sight of the bleeding Savior on the cross). He closes with the sweetest category — crowns of thanksgiving — tracing how prophets, apostles, martyrs, soul-winners, infants, aged saints, and chief sinners all stream into heaven and without exception take their crowns off and lay them at Christ's feet, because every crown was won by his grace and blood, and he invites every hearer to make this day their day of espousals to Christ and so put one more crown on his already-adorned head. Sermon delivered by Charles Spurgeon on October 30th, 1859.

The Chaff Driven Away

Spurgeon begins by carefully defining the "ungodly" — not primarily the blasphemer or the open rebel, but the far larger class of respectable, church-attending people who live without a genuine eye to God, who have no love for him, no delight in prayer, and no dependence on Christ's blood — and then works through the fearful negative of Psalm 1:4 clause by clause, showing that the ungodly lack the special providence that watches over the righteous, have no perennial river of consolation to draw from in times of drought and death, bring forth no fruit and stand under the curse of Meroz for doing nothing, will find their leaf withering when trials come, and have no promise that what they do shall prosper. He then lingers on the terrible comparison to chaff — sapless, fruitless, light, unstable, and utterly worthless — and draws particular force from the nearness of chaff to grain, pressing home the solemn thought that ungodly fathers, sons, and mothers sit side by side with God's people, wrapped around them like a husk, and that the great winnowing day will sever these closest relationships forever. He closes with the awful prophecy — the wind drives the chaff away into unquenchable fire — and pivots from thunder to gospel, urging every ungodly hearer to cherish any spark of desire toward Christ, yield to the Spirit's movement, and look to the crucified Savior who came to save the lost and will in no wise cast out any who come to him. Sermon delivered by Charles Spurgeon on October 23rd, 1859.