Morning, December 27, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Can the rushes grow without water? (mire, KJV)” — Job 8:11

The reeds and rushes are spongy and hollow, and even so is a hypocrite; there is no substance or stability in him. It is shaken to and fro in every wind just as formalists yield to every influence; for this reason the rush is not broken by the tempest, neither are hypocrites troubled with persecution. I would not willingly be a deceiver or be deceived; perhaps the text for this day may help me to try myself whether I am a hypocrite or no. The rush by nature lives in water, and owes its very existence to the mire and moisture where it has taken root; let the mire become dry, and the rush withers very quickly. Its greenness is absolutely dependent upon circumstances; an abundance of water makes it flourish, and a drought destroys it at once. Is this my case? Do I only serve God when I am in good company, or when religion is profitable and respectable? Do I love the Lord only when earthly comforts are received from his hands? If so I am a dishonorable hypocrite, and like the withering rush, I shall perish when death deprives me of outward joys. But can I honestly assert that when bodily comforts have been few, and my surroundings have been rather adverse to grace than at all helpful to it, I have still held fast my integrity? Then have I hope that there is genuine, vital godliness in me. The rush cannot grow without mire, but plants of the Lord’s right hand planting can and do flourish even in the year of drought. A godly man often grows best when his worldly circumstances decay. He who follows Christ for his bag is a Judas; they who follow for loaves and fishes are children of the devil; but they who be present with him out of love to himself are his own beloved ones. Lord, let me find my life in you, and not in the mire of this world’s favor or gain.

Evening, December 26, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Surely I am with you always.” — Matthew 28:20

The Lord Jesus is in the midst of his church; he walks among the golden candlesticks; his promise is, “Surely I am with you always.” He is as surely with us now as he was with the disciples at the lake, when they saw a fire built, and fish laid upon it, and bread. Not physically, but still in reality, Jesus is with us. And a blessed truth it is, for where Jesus is, love becomes set afire. Of all the things in the world that can set the heart burning, there is nothing like the presence of Jesus! A glimpse of him so overcomes us, that we are ready to say, “Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me.” Even the smell of the aloe, and the myrrh, and the cassia, which drop from his perfumed garments, causes the sick and the weak to grow strong. Let there be just a moment’s leaning of the head into that gracious embrace, and a reception of his divine love into our poor cold hearts and we are cold no longer, but glow like angelic fire, equal to every labor, and capable of enduring any suffering. If we know that Jesus is with us, every skill will be developed, and every grace will be strengthened, and we shall cast ourselves into the Lord’s service with heart, and soul, and strength; therefore the presence of Christ is to be desired above all things. His presence will be realized most by those who are most like him. If you desire to see Christ, you must grow in conformity to him. Bring yourself, by the power of the Spirit, into union with Christ’s desires, and motives, and plans of action, and you are likely to be favored with his company. Remember his presence may be obtained. His promise is as true as ever. He delights to be with us. If he does not come, it is because we hinder him by our indifference. He will reveal himself to our earnest prayers, and graciously tolerate himself to be detained by our entreaties, and by our tears, for these are the golden chains which bind Jesus to his people.

Morning, December 26, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The last Adam.”– 1 Corinthians 15:45

Jesus is the covenant head of his chosen. As in Adam, every heir of flesh and blood has a personal interest, because he is the covenant head and representative of the race as considered under the law of works; so under the law of grace, every redeemed soul is one with the Lord from heaven, since he is the Second Adam, the Sponsor and Substitute of the chosen in the new covenant of love. The apostle Paul declares that Levi was in the loins of Abraham when Melchizedek met him: it is a certain truth that the believer was in the loins of Jesus Christ, the Mediator, when in old eternity the covenant settlements of grace were decreed, ratified, and made assured forever. Thus, whatever Christ has done, he has created for the whole body of his Church. We were crucified in him and buried with him (Col. 2:10-13), and to make it still more wonderful, we are risen with him and even ascended with him to the seats on high (Eph. 2:6). Consequently  the Church has fulfilled the law, and is “accepted in the beloved.” Also, consequently she is regarded with contentment by the just Jehovah, for he views her in Jesus, and does not look upon her as separate from her covenant head. As the Anointed Redeemer of Israel, Christ Jesus has nothing distinct from his Church, but all that he has he holds for her. Adam’s righteousness was ours so long as he maintained it, and his sin was ours the moment that he committed it; and in the same manner, all that the Second Adam is or does, is ours as well as his, seeing that he is our representative. Here is the foundation of the covenant of grace. This is the gracious system of representation and substitution, which moved Justin Martyr to cry out, “O blessed change, O sweet permutation!” This is the very groundwork of the gospel of our salvation, and is to be received with strong faith and rapturous joy.

Evening, December 25, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“When the days of feasting had completed their cycle, Job would send and consecrate them, rising up early in the morning and offering burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, ‘Perhaps my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.’ Thus Job did continually.” — Job 1:5

What the patriarch did early in the morning, after the family festivities, it will be well for the believer to do for himself before he rests tonight. Amid the cheerfulness of household gatherings it is easy to slide into sinful levity, and to forget our affirmed character as Christians. It ought not to be so, but so it is, that our days of feasting are very seldom days of sanctified enjoyment, but too frequently degenerate into unhallowed mirth. There is a way of joy as pure and sanctifying as though one bathed in the rivers of Eden: holy gratitude should be quite as purifying an element as grief. Alas! For our poor hearts, that facts prove that the house of mourning is better for us than the house of feasting. Come, believer, in what have you sinned today? Have you been forgetful of your high calling? Have you been just like others in careless words and indiscreet speech? Then confess the sin, and look to the sacrifice. The sacrifice sanctifies. The precious blood of the slain Lamb removes the guilt, and purges away the defilement of our sins of ignorance and carelessness. This is the best ending of a Christmas day–to wash anew in the cleansing fountain. Believer, come to this sacrifice continually; if it is so good tonight, it is good every night. To live at the altar is the privilege of the royal priesthood; to them sin, great as it is, is nevertheless no cause for despair, since they draw near yet again to the sin-atoning sacrifice, and their conscience is purged from dead works.

Gladly I close this festive day,

Grasping the altar’s hallow’d horn;

My slips and faults are washed away,

The Lamb has all my trespass borne.

Morning, December 25, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, and she will call His name Immanuel.”  — Isaiah 7:14

Let us go today down to Bethlehem, and in company with wondering shepherds and adoring Magi, let us see him who was born King of the Jews; for we by faith can claim an interest in him, and can sing, “Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.” Jesus is Jehovah incarnate, our Lord and our God, and yet our brother and friend; let us adore and admire him.

Let us notice at the very first glance his miraculous conception. It was a thing unheard of before, and unparalleled since, that a virgin should conceive and bear a Son. The first promise in Genesis ran thus: “The seed of the woman,” not the offspring of the man. Since audacious woman led the way in the sin which brought forth Paradise lost, she, and she alone, ushers in the Regainer of Paradise. Our Savior, although truly man, was as to his human nature the Holy One of God. Let us reverently bow before the holy Child whose innocence restores to manhood its ancient glory; and let us pray that he may be formed in us, the hope of glory.

Do not fail to note his humble parentage. His mother has been described simply as “a virgin,” not a princess, or prophetess, nor a manager of a large estate. Truly the blood of kings ran in her veins; her mind was neither simple nor untaught, for she could sing most sweetly a song of praise; but her position was humble, her fiancé poor, and the accommodation afforded to the new-born King, miserable!

Immanuel, God with us in our nature, in our sorrow, in our lifework, in our punishment, in our grave, is now with us — or rather we with him — in resurrection, ascension, triumph, and Second Advent splendor.

Evening, December 24, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all flesh will see it together.”  Isaiah 40:5

We anticipate the happy day when the whole world shall be converted to Christ; when the gods of the nations shall be cast to the moles and the bats; when godless state religion shall be blown apart, and the crescent of Mohammed shall fade, never again to cast its hostile rays upon the nations; when kings shall bow down before the Prince of Peace, and all nations shall call their Redeemer blessed. Some despair of this. They look upon the world as a vessel breaking up and going to pieces, never to float again. We know, though, that the world and all that it contains is one day to be burnt up, and afterwards we look for new heavens and for a new earth; but we cannot read our Bibles without the conviction that–

“Jesus shall reign where’er the sun

Does his successive journeys run.”

We are not discouraged by the length of his delay; we are not disheartened by the long period which he allots to the church in which to struggle with seemingly little success and much defeat. We believe that God will never allow this world, which has once seen Christ’s blood shed upon it, to continue to be the devil’s stronghold. Christ came here to deliver this world from the detested sway of the powers of darkness. What a shout it will be when men and angels shall unite to cry “Hallelujah, hallelujah, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigns!” What a satisfaction will it be in that day to have had a share in the fight, to have helped to break the arrows of the bow, and to have aided in winning the victory for our Lord! Happy are they who trust themselves with our conquering Lord, and who fight side by side with him, doing what they can in his name and by his strength! How unhappy are those on the side of evil! It is a losing side, and it is a matter in which to lose is to lose and to be lost forever. On whose side are you?

Morning, December 24, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“For your sake he became poor.” — 2 Corinthians 8:9

The Lord Jesus Christ was eternally rich, glorious, and exalted; but “though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor.” As the rich believer cannot be true in his unity with his poor brethren unless he ministers to their necessities our of his resources, so (with the same rule holding with our Head as between the members), it is impossible that our Divine Lord could have had fellowship and communion with us unless he had imparted to us of his own abounding wealth, and had become poor to make us rich. Had he remained upon his throne of glory, and had we continued in the ruins of the fall without receiving his salvation, fellowship would have been impossible on both sides. Our position from the fall, apart from the covenant of grace, made it as impossible for fallen man to communicate with God as it is for Belial to be in harmony with Christ.

In order, therefore, that communion might be embraced, it was necessary that the rich kinsman should bestow his estate upon his poor relatives; that the righteous Savior should give to his sinful brethren that from of his own perfection, and that we, the poor and guilty, should receive of his fullness grace for grace. In this way, in giving and receiving, the One might descend from the heights, and the other ascend from the depths, and so be able to embrace each other in true and hearty fellowship. Our poverty must be enriched by Him in whom reside infinite treasures, before communion and fellowship can occur; and guilt must lose itself in imputed and imparted righteousness before the soul can walk in fellowship with purity. Jesus must clothe his people in his own garments, or he cannot admit them into his palace of glory; and he must wash them in his own blood, or else they will be too defiled for the embrace of his fellowship.

O believer, here lies true love! For your sake the Lord Jesus “became poor” that he might lift you up into communion with himself.

Evening, December 23, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Yours also is the night.” — Psalm 74:16

No, Lord, you do not abdicate your throne when the sun goes down, nor do you leave the world all through these long wintry nights to be the prey of evil; your eyes watch us like the stars, and your arms surround us as the constellations belt the sky. The dew of kind sleep and all the influences of the moon are in your hand, and the alarms and solemnities of night are equally with you. This is very dear to me when watching through the midnight hours, or tossing to and fro in anguish. There are precious fruits put forth by the moon as well as by the sun: may my Lord make me to be a favored partaker in them.

The night of affliction is as much under the arrangement and control of the Lord of Love as the bright summer days when all is blissful. Jesus is in the tempest. His love wraps the night about itself as a mantle, but to the eye of faith the sable robe is scarcely a disguise. From the first watch of the night even to the break of day the eternal Watcher observes his saints, and overrules the darkness and dew of midnight for his people’s highest good. We believe in no rival deities of good and evil contending for mastery, but we hear the voice of Jehovah saying, “I create light and I create darkness; I, the Lord, do all these things.”

Gloomy seasons of religious indifference and social sin are not exempted from the divine purpose. When the altars of truth are defiled, and the ways of God forsaken, the Lord’s servants weep with bitter sorrow. They should not despair, however, for the darkest eras are governed by the Lord, and shall come to their end at his bidding. What may seem defeat to us may be victory to him.

“Though enwrapt in gloomy night,

We perceive no ray of light;

Since the Lord himself is here,

‘Tis not meet that we should fear.”

Morning, December 23, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Friend, move up higher.” — Luke 14:10

When the life of grace first begins in the soul, we do indeed draw near to God, but it is with great fear and trembling. The soul is conscious of guilt, and humbled, and overawed with the solemnity of its position; it is cast to the earth by a sense of the grandeur of Jehovah, in whose presence it stands. With unfeigned bashfulness it takes the lowest room.

But, in his life following, even as the Christian grows in grace, he will never forget the seriousness of his position, and will never lose that holy awe which must encompass a gracious man when he is in the presence of the God who can create or can destroy. However, his fear has all its terror taken out of it; it becomes a holy reverence, and no longer an overshadowing dread. He is called up higher, to greater access to God in Christ Jesus.

Then the man of God, walking amid the splendors of Deity, and veiling his face like the glorious cherubim, with those twin wings (the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ) will, reverent and bowed in spirit, approach the throne. There seeing a God of love, of goodness, and of mercy, he will realize the covenant character rather of God more than his absolute Deity. He will see in God his goodness rather than his greatness, and more of his love than of his majesty. Then will the soul, bowing still as humbly as before, enjoy a more sacred freedom of intercession. While prostrate before the glory of the Infinite God, his soul will be sustained by the refreshing consciousness of being in the presence of boundless mercy and infinite love, and by the realization of acceptance “in the Beloved.” Therefore the believer is called to come up higher, and is enabled to exercise the privilege of rejoicing in God, and drawing near to him in holy confidence, saying, “Abba, Father.”

“So may we go from strength to strength,

And daily grow in grace,

Till in thine image raised at length,

We see thee face to face.”

Evening, December 22, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“They have acted corruptly toward Him, they are not His children, because of their defect; but are a perverse and crooked generation.” — Deuteronomy 32:5

What is the secret quality which infallibly differentiates the child of God from the world? It would be useless presumption to decide upon this in our own judgment; but God’s word reveals it to us, and we may walk with sure steps where we have revelation as our guide. Now, we are told concerning our Lord, “But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name.” Then, if I have received Christ Jesus into my heart, I am a child of God. That reception is described in the same verse as believing on the name of Jesus Christ. If, then, I believe on Jesus Christ’s name–that is, simply from my heart trust myself with the crucified, but now exalted, Redeemer, I am a member of the family of the Most High. Whatever else I lack, if I have this, I have the privilege to become a child of God. Our Lord Jesus puts it in another form. “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” Here is the matter in a nutshell. Christ appears as a shepherd to his own sheep, not to others. As soon as he appears, his own sheep perceive him–they trust him, they are prepared to follow him; he knows them, and they know him–there is a mutual knowledge–there is a constant connection between them. Thus, the one mark, the sure mark, the infallible mark of regeneration and adoption is a hearty faith in the appointed Redeemer. Reader, are you in doubt, are you uncertain whether you bear the secret mark of God’s children? Then let not an hour pass over your head till you have said, “Search me, O God, and know my heart.” Toy not here, I charge you! If you must flirt anywhere, let it be about some secondary matter: your health, if you will, or the title deeds of your estate; but about your soul, your eternal soul and its unending destiny, I implore you to be in earnest. Make sure work for eternity.

Morning, December 22, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I will strengthen you.” — Isaiah 41:10

God has a strong reserve with which to discharge this commitment; for he is able to do all things. Believer, until you can drain dry the ocean of omnipotence, until you can break into pieces the towering mountains of almighty strength, you never need to fear. Do not think that the strength of man shall ever be able to overcome the power of God. While the earth’s huge pillars stand, you have enough reason to abide firm in your faith. The same God who directs the earth in its orbit, who feeds the burning furnace of the sun, and trims the lamps of heaven, has promised to supply you with daily strength. While he is able to uphold the universe, do not dream that he will prove unable to fulfil his own promises. Remember what he did in the days of old, in the former generations. Remember how he spoke and it was done; how he commanded, and it stood immovable? Shall he that created the world grow weary? He hangs the world upon nothing; shall he who does this be unable to support his children? Shall he be unfaithful to his word for a lack of power? Who is it that restrains the hurricane? Does he not ride upon the wings of the wind, and make the clouds his chariots, and hold the ocean in the hollow of his hand? How can he fail you? When he has put such a faithful promise as this on record, will you for a moment indulge the thought that he has over promised himself, and gone beyond his power to fulfil? Ah, no! You can doubt no longer.

O you who are my God and my strength, I can believe that this promise shall be fulfilled, for the boundless reservoir of your grace can never be exhausted, and the overflowing storehouse of your strength can never be emptied by your friends or ransacked by your enemies.

“Now let the feeble all be strong,

And make Jehovah’s arm their song.”

Evening, December 21, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I also clothed you with embroidered cloth and put sandals of porpoise skin on your feet; and I wrapped yoy with fine linen and covered you with silk.” — Ezekiel 16:10

See with what matchless generosity the Lord provides for his people’s apparel. They are so arrayed that his divine skill is seen producing an unrivalled embroidered work, in which every attribute takes its part and every divine beauty is revealed. No art is like the art displayed in our salvation, no astute workmanship is like that beheld in the righteousness of the believers.

Justification has captivated scholarly pens in all ages of the church, and will be the theme of admiration in eternity. God has indeed “curiously fashioned it.” With all this elaborate design there is mingled together both utility and durability, comparable to our being shod with porpoise’s skins. The animal here noted is unknown, but its skin covered the tabernacle, and formed one of the finest and strongest leathers known. The righteousness which is of God by faith endures forever, and he who is shod with this divine preparation will tread the desert safely, and may even set his foot upon the lion and the adder. Purity and dignity of our holy clothing are brought out in the fine linen. When the Lord sanctifies his people, they are clad as priests in pure white; not even the snow itself excels them; they are in the eyes of men and angels fair to look upon, and even in the Lord’s eyes they are without spot. Meanwhile the royal apparel is delicate and rich as silk. No expense is spared, no beauty withheld, no elegance denied.

What, then? Is there no inference from this? Surely there is gratitude to be felt and joy to be expressed. Come, my heart, do not refuse your evening hallelujah! Tune your pipes! Play your chords!

“Strangely, my soul, art thou arrayed

By the Great Sacred Three!

In sweetest harmony of praise

Let all thy powers agree.”

Morning, December 21, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“For He has made an everlasting covenant with me.” — 2 Samuel 23:5

This covenant is divine in its origin. “He has made an everlasting covenant with me.” Oh that great word He! Stop, my soul. God, the everlasting Father, has positively made a covenant with you; yes, that God who spoke the world into existence by a word; he, stooping from his majesty, takes hold of your hand and makes a covenant with you. Is it not a amazing deed, the astounding descent of God to us of which might overpower our hearts forever if we could really understand it? “HE has made a covenant with me.” A king has not made a covenant with me–that would be something of note; but the Prince of the kings of the earth, Shaddai, the Lord All-sufficient, the Jehovah of ages, the everlasting Elohim, “He has made an everlasting covenant with me.” But notice, it is specific in its application. “For He has made an everlasting covenant with me.” Here lies the delightfulness of it to each believer. It means little for me that he made peace for the world; I want to know whether he made peace for me! It means little that he has made a covenant, I want to know whether he has made a covenant with me. Blessed is the assurance that he has made a covenant with me! If God the Holy Spirit gives me assurance of this, then his salvation is mine, his heart is mine, he himself is mine–he is my God.

This covenant is everlasting in its duration. An everlasting covenant means a covenant which had no beginning, and which shall never, never end. How sweet amidst all the uncertainties of life, to know that “the foundation of the Lord stands sure,” and to have God’s own promise, “My covenant I will not violate, nor will I alter the utterance of My lips.” Like dying David, I will sing of this, even though my house be not in standing with God as my heart desires.

Evening, December 20, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Call the laborers and pay them their wages.” — Matthew 20:8

God is a good paymaster; he pays his servants while at work as well as when they have finished it; and one of his payments is this: an easy conscience. If you have spoken faithfully of Jesus to one person, when you go to bed at night you feel happy in thinking, “I have this day discharged my conscience of that man’s blood.” There is a great comfort in doing something for Jesus. Oh, what  happiness to place jewels in his crown, and show  him the fruit of the travail of his soul! There is also very great reward in watching the first buddings of conviction in a soul! To say of that girl in the class, “She has a tender heart, I do hope that the Lord is working within.” To go home and pray over that boy, who said something in the afternoon which made you think he must know more of divine truth than you had thought! Oh, the joy of hope! But as for the joy of success, it is unspeakable! This joy, overwhelming as it is, is a unsatisfying thing–you yearn for more of it. To be a soul-winner is the happiest thing in the world. With every soul you bring to Christ, you get a new heaven upon earth. But who can conceive the happiness which awaits us above! Oh, how delightful is that sentence, “Enter into the joy of your Lord!” Do you know what the joy of Christ is over a saved sinner? This is the very joy which we are to possess in heaven. Yes, when he mounts the throne, you shall mount with him. When the heavens ring with “Well done, well done,” you shall share in the reward; you have labored with him, you have suffered with him, you shall now reign with him; you have sown with him, you shall reap with him; your face was covered with sweat like his, and your soul was grieved for the sins of men as his soul was, but now your face shall be bright with heaven’s splendor as is his visage, and now shall your soul be filled with heavenly joys even as his soul is.

Morning, December 20, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.”— Jeremiah 31:3

Sometimes the Lord Jesus tells his Church his thoughts of love.

“He does not think it enough behind her back to tell it, but in her very presence he says, Thou art all fair, my love.’ It is true, this is not his ordinary method; he is a wise lover, and knows when to keep back the intimation of love and when to let it out; but there are times when he will make no secret of it; times when he will put it beyond all dispute in the souls of his people” (Ralph Erskine).

The Holy Spirit is often pleased, in a most gracious manner, to witness with our spirits of the love of Jesus. He takes of the things of Christ and reveals them to us. No voice is heard from the clouds, and no vision is seen in the night, but we have a testimony surer than either of these. If an angel should fly from heaven and inform the believer personally of the Savior’s love to him, the evidence would not be one bit more satisfactory than that which is borne in the heart by the Holy Spirit. Ask the Lord’s people who have lived the nearest to the gates of heaven, and they will tell you that they have had seasons when the love of Christ towards them has been a fact so clear and sure, that they could no more doubt it than they could question their own existence. Yes, beloved believer, you and I have had times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, and then our faith has mounted to the topmost heights of assurance. We have had confidence to lean our heads into the embrace of our Lord, and we have no more questioned our Master’s affection to us than John did when in that same blessed posture; indeed, not even so much: for the dark question, “Lord, is it I that shall betray you?” has been put far from us. He has kissed us with the kisses of his mouth, and killed our doubts by the closeness of his embrace. His love has been sweeter than wine to our souls.

Evening, December 19, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And there is no longer any sea.” — Revelation 21:1

Scarcely could we rejoice at the thought of losing the glorious old ocean: the new heavens and the new earth are not made any fairer to our imagination, if, indeed, literally there is to be no great and wide sea, with its gleaming waves and shelly shores. Perhaps the text is to be read as a metaphor, tinged with the prejudice with which the Oriental mind universally regarded the sea in the ancient times? A real physical world without a sea is mournful to imagine; it would be an iron ring without the sapphire which made it precious. There must be a spiritual meaning here. In the new dispensation there will be no division–the sea separates nations and severs peoples from each other. To John in Patmos the deep waters were like prison walls, shutting him out from his brethren and his work: there shall be no such barriers in the world to come. Leagues of rolling breakers lie between us and many a kinsman whom tonight we prayerfully remember, but in the bright world to which we go there shall be unbroken fellowship for all the redeemed family. In this sense there shall be no more sea. The sea is the emblem of change; with its ebbs and flows, its glassy smoothness and its mountainous breakers, its gentle murmurs and its tumultuous roaring, it is never the same for long. Slave of the fickle winds and the changing moon, its instability is proverbial. In this mortal state we have too much of this; earth is constant only in her inconstancy, but in the heavenly state all sorrowful change shall be unknown, and with it all fear of storm to wreck our hopes and drown our joys. The sea of glass glows with a glory unbroken by a wave. No tempest howls along the peaceful shores of paradise. Soon shall we reach that happy land where partings, and changes, and storms shall be ended! Jesus will carry us there. Are we in him or not? This is the grand question.

Morning, December 19, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” — Proverbs 16:33

If the decision of the lot is the Lord’s whose is the arrangement of our whole life? If the simple casting of a lot is guided by him, how much more the events of our entire life–especially when we are told by our blessed Savior, “The very hairs of your head are all numbered: not a sparrow falls to the ground without your Father.” It would bring a divine calm over your mind, dear friend, if you were always to remember this. It would so relieve your mind from anxiety, that you would be the better able to walk in patience, quiet, and cheerfulness as a Christian should. When a man is anxious he cannot pray with faith; when he is troubled about the world, he cannot serve his Master; his thoughts are serving himself. If you would “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” all things would then be added unto you. You are meddling with Christ’s business, and neglecting your own when you worry about your situation and circumstances. You have been trying to work to provide and forgetting that it is your part to obey. Be wise and attend to the obeying, and let Christ manage the providing. Come and survey your Father’s storehouse, and ask whether he will let you starve while he has laid up so great an abundance in his cache? Look at his heart of mercy; see if that can ever prove unkind! Look at his unfathomable wisdom; see if that will ever be at fault. Above all, look up to Jesus Christ your Intercessor, and ask yourself, while he pleads for you, can your Father deal ungraciously with you? If he remembers even sparrows, will he forget one of the least of his poor children? “Cast your burden upon the Lord, and he will sustain you. He will never tolerate the righteous to be moved.”

My soul, rest happy in thy low estate,

Nor hope nor wish to be esteem’d or great;

To take the impress of the Will Divine,

Be that thy glory, and those riches thine.

Evening, December 18, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Know well the condition of your flocks, and pay attention to your herds.” — Proverbs 27:23

Every wise merchant will occasionally hold an inventory, when he will look up his accounts, examine what he has on hand, and ascertain decisively whether his trade is prosperous or declining. Every man who is wise in the kingdom of heaven, will cry, “Search me, O God, and try me,” and he will frequently set apart special seasons for self-examination, to discover whether things are right between God and his soul. The God whom we worship is a great heart-searcher; and of old his servants knew him as “the Lord which searches the heart and tries the reins of the children of men.” Let me stir you up in his name to make a diligent search and solemn evaluation of your state, in case you come short of the promised rest. That which every wise man does, that which God himself does with us all, I exhort you to do with yourself this evening. Let the oldest believer look clearly to the fundamentals of his virtue, for grey heads may cover black hearts: and do not let the young professor despise the word of warning, for the freshness of youth may be joined to the rottenness of hypocrisy. Every now and then a cedar falls into our midst. The enemy still continues to sow tares among the wheat. It is not my aim to introduce doubts and fears into your mind —certainly not—but I shall hope rather that the rough wind of self-examination may help to drive them away. It is not security, but worldly security, which we would kill; not confidence, but self-confidence, which we would overthrow; not peace, but false peace, which we would destroy. By the precious blood of Christ—which was not shed to make you a hypocrite, but that sincere souls might show forth his praise—I beseech you: Search and look, for fear that at the last it be said of you, “Mene, Mene, Tekel: You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.”

Morning, December 18, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And rend your heart and not your garments.” — Joel 2:13

Tearing garments and other outward signs of religious expression, are easily manifested and are frequently hypocritical; but to feel true repentance is far more difficult, and consequently far less common. Men will attend to the most numerous and detailed ceremonial regulations–for such things are pleasing to our self-nature–but true religion is too humbling, too heart-searching, too thorough for the tastes of worldly men; they prefer something more ostentatious, flimsy, and worldly. Outward observances are temporarily comfortable; eye and ear are pleased; self-conceit is fed, and self-righteousness is puffed up: but they are ultimately delusive, for in the finished article of death, and at the day of judgment, the soul needs something more substantial than ceremonies and rituals to lean upon. Apart from essential godliness all religion is utterly vain; offered without a sincere heart, every form of worship is a solemn sham and an impertinent mockery of the majesty of heaven.

Heart-rending is divinely fashioned and solemnly felt. It is a secret grief which is personally experienced, not in mere form, but as a deep, soul-moving work of the Holy Spirit upon the innermost heart of each believer. It is not a matter to be merely talked of and believed in, but keenly and sensitively felt in every living child of the living God. It is powerfully humiliating, and completely sin-purging; but then it is pleasantly preparative for those gracious comforts which proud, unhumbled spirits are unable to receive; and it is distinctly discriminating, for it belongs to the chosen of God, and to them alone.

The text commands us to rend our hearts, but they are naturally hard as marble: how, then, can this be done? We must take them to Calvary: a dying Savior’s voice rent the rocks once, and it is as powerful now. O blessed Spirit, let us hear the death-cries of Jesus, and our hearts shall be rent even as men rend their clothing in the day of lamentation.

Evening, December 17, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.” — John 10:9

 Jesus, the great I AM, is the entrance into the true church, and the way of access to God himself. He gives to the man who comes to God by him four choice privileges:

1. He shall be saved. The fugitive manslayer was safe when he passed the gate of the city of refuge. Noah entered the door of the ark, and was secure. None can be lost who take Jesus as the door of faith to their souls.
2. He shall go in. He shall be privileged to go in among the divine family, sharing the children’s bread, and participating in all their honor and enjoyment. He shall go in to the chambers of communion, to the banquets of love, to the treasures of the covenant, to the storehouses of the promises. He shall go in to the King of kings in the power of the Holy Spirit, and the secret of the Lord shall be with him.
3. He shall go out. This blessing is much forgotten. We go out into the world to labor and suffer, but what a mercy to go in the name and power of Jesus! We are called to bear witness to the truth, to cheer the dejected, to warn the careless, to win souls, and to glorify God; and as the angel said to Gideon, “Go in the strength you have,” even so the Lord would have us proceed as his messengers in his name and strength.
4. He shall find pasture. He who knows Jesus shall never hunger. Going in and out shall be alike helpful to him: in fellowship with God he shall grow, and in watering others he shall be watered. Having made Jesus his all, he shall find all in Jesus. His soul shall be as a watered garden, and as a well of water whose waters will not fail.

Morning, December 17, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I remember you.” — Jeremiah 2:2

Let us take note that Christ delights to think about his Church, and to look upon her beauty. As the bird returns often to its nest, and as the traveler hurries to his home, so does the mind continually pursue the object of its choice. We cannot look too often upon that face which we love; we desire always to have our precious things in our sight. It is even so with our Lord Jesus. From all eternity “having delight with the sons of men,” his thoughts rolled onward to the time when his chosen should be born into the world; he viewed them in the mirror of his foreknowledge. “In your book,” he says, “Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.” (Ps. 139:16). When the world was set upon its supports, he was there, and he set the bounds of the people according to the number of the children of Israel. Many times before his incarnation, he descended to this lower earth in the semblance of a man; on the plains of Mamre (Gen. 18), by the brook of Jabbok (Gen. 32:24-30), beneath the walls of Jericho (Jos. 5:13), and in the fiery furnace of Babylon (Dan. 3:19, 25), the Son of Man visited his people. Because his soul delighted in them, he could not rest while away from them, for his heart longed after them. Never were they absent from his heart, for he had written their names upon his hands, and engraved them upon his side. As the breastplate containing the names of the tribes of Israel was the most brilliant ornament worn by the high priest, so the names of Christ’s chosen were his most precious jewels, and glittered on his heart. We may often forget to meditate upon the perfections of our Lord, but he never ceases to remember us. Let us scold ourselves for past forgetfulness, and pray for grace to ever bear him in fondest remembrance. Lord, paint upon the eyeballs of my soul the image of your Son.

Evening, December 16, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“You have not heard, you have not known. Even from long ago your ear has not been open.” — Isaiah 48:8

It is painful to remember that, to a certain degree, this accusation may be laid at the door of believers, who too often are spiritually oblivious. We may well lament that we do not hear the voice of God as we ought, “Yes, you have not heard.” There are gentle motions of the Holy Spirit in the soul which are unheeded by us: there are whisperings of divine command and of heavenly love which are alike unobserved by our leaden intellects. Alas! We have been carelessly ignorant; “you have not known.” There are matters which we ought to have discerned, corruption which has made headway unnoticed; precious affection which is being blighted like flowers in the frost, untended by us; glimpses of the divine face which might be perceived if we did not wall up the windows of our soul. But we “have not known.” As we think of it we are humbled in the deepest humiliation. How must we adore the grace of God as we learn from the context that all this folly and ignorance, on our part, was foreknown by God, and, despite that foreknowledge, he still has been pleased to deal with us in a way of mercy! Admire the marvelous sovereign grace which could have chosen us in the sight of all this! Wonder at the price that was paid for us when Christ knew what kind of people we should be! He who hung upon the cross foresaw us as unbelieving, backsliding, cold of heart, indifferent, careless, lax in prayer, and yet he said, “For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.  Since you are precious in My sight, since you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in your place and other peoples in exchange for your life.” O redemption, how wondrously resplendent do you shine when we think how black we are! O Holy Spirit, give us from this time forward hearing ear, the understanding heart!

Morning, December 16, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Come unto me.” — Matthew 11:28

The cry of the Christian religion is the gentle word, “Come.” The Jewish law harshly said, “Go, take heed to your steps as to the path in which you shall walk. Break the commandments, and you shalt perish; keep them, and you shall live.” The law was a dispensation of terror, which drove men before it as with a whip; the gospel draws with bonds of love. Jesus is the good Shepherd going before his sheep, bidding them follow him, and ever leading them onward with the inviting word, “Come.” The law repels, the gospel attracts. The law shows the distance which there is between God and man; the gospel bridges that awful chasm, and brings the sinner across it.

From the first moment of your spiritual life until you are ushered into glory, the language of Christ to you will be, “Come, come to me.” As a mother puts out her finger to her little child and entices it to walk by saying, “Come,” even so does Jesus. He will always be ahead of you, bidding you to follow him as the soldier follows his captain. He will always go before you to pave your way, and clear your path, and you shall hear his enlivening voice calling you after him all through life; while in the solemn hour of death, his sweet words with which he shall usher you into the heavenly world shall be, “Come, you, blessed of my Father.”

Indeed, further, this is not only Christ’s cry to you, but, if you are a believer, this is your cry to Christ: “Come! come!” You will be longing for his second advent; you will be saying, “Come quickly, even so come Lord Jesus.” You will be hungering for nearer and closer communion with him. As his voice to you is “Come,” your response to him will be, “Come, Lord, and abide with me. Come, and occupy alone the throne of my heart; reign there without a rival, and consecrate me entirely to your service.”

Evening, December 15, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And your foundations I will lay in sapphires.” — Isaiah 54:11

Not only what is seen of the church of God, but that which is unseen, is fair and precious. Foundations are out of sight, and so long as they are firm it is not expected that they should be valuable; but in Jehovah’s work everything is of a larger piece, nothing ran together, nothing average. The deep foundations of the work of grace are as sapphires in value; no human mind is able to measure their glory. We build upon the covenant of grace, which is firmer than diamond, and as enduring as jewels upon which age spends itself in vain. Sapphire foundations are eternal, and the covenant abides throughout the lifetime of the Almighty. Another foundation is the person of the Lord Jesus, which is clear and spotless, everlasting and beautiful as the sapphire; blending in one the deep blue of earth’s ever rolling ocean and the azure of its all embracing sky. Once might our Lord have been likened to the ruby as he stood covered with his own blood, but now we see him radiant with the soft blue of love, love abounding, deep, eternal. Our eternal hopes are built upon the justice and the faithfulness of God, which are clear and cloudless as the sapphire. We are not saved by a compromise, by mercy defeating justice, or law suspending its operations; no, we defy the eagle’s eye to detect a flaw in the groundwork of our confidence–our foundation is of sapphire, and will endure the fire.

The Lord himself has laid the foundation of his people’s hopes. It is matter for solemn enquiry whether our hopes are built upon such a basis. Good works and ceremonies are not a foundation of sapphires, but of wood, hay, and stubble; neither are they laid by God, but by our own conceit. Foundations will all be tried before long: grief to him whose lofty tower shall come down with a crash, because it was based on a quicksand. He who is built on sapphires may await storm or fire with composure, for he shall stand the test.

Morning, December 15, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her.” — Ruth 1:14

Both of them had an affection for Naomi, and therefore set out with her upon her return to the land of Judah. But the hour of test came; Naomi most unselfishly set before each of them the trials which awaited them, and instructed them that if they cared for ease and comfort they should return to their Moabite friends. At first both of them declared that they would cast in their lot with the Lord’s people; but upon still further consideration Orpah with much grief and a respectful kiss left her mother in law, and her people, and her God, and went back to her idolatrous friends, while Ruth with all her heart gave herself up to the God of her mother in law. It is one thing to love the ways of the Lord when all is fair, and quite another to be faithful to them under all discouragements and difficulties. The kiss of outward profession is very cheap and easy, but the practical abiding by the Lord, which must show itself in holy decisions for truth and holiness, is not so small a matter. How does the case stand with us; is our heart fixed upon Jesus, is the sacrifice bound with cords to the horns of the altar? Have we counted the cost, and are we solemnly ready to suffer all worldly loss for the Master’s sake? The gain after will be an abundant reward, for Egypt’s treasures are not to be compared with the glory to be revealed. Orpah is heard of no more; in splendid ease and idolatrous pleasure her life melts into the gloom of death; but Ruth lives in history and in heaven, for grace has placed her in the noble lineage from which sprung the King of kings. Blessed among women shall those be who for Christ’s sake can renounce all; but forgotten and worse than forgotten shall those be who in the hour of temptation do violence to conscience and turn back to the world. O that this morning we may not be content with a form of devotion, which may be no better than Orpah’s kiss, but may the Holy Spirit work in us a binding of our whole heart to our Lord Jesus.

Evening, December 14, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I have been crucified with Christ.” — Galatians 2:20

The Lord Jesus Christ acted in what he did as a great public representative, and his dying upon the cross was the virtual dying of all his people. Then he for all his saints rendered to justice what was due, and made amends to divine vengeance for all their sins. Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles delighted to think that as one of Christ’s chosen people, he died upon the cross in Christ. He did more than believe this doctrinally, he accepted it confidently, resting his hope upon it. He believed that by virtue of Christ’s death, he had satisfied divine justice, and found reconciliation with God. Beloved, what a blessed thing it is when the soul can, as it were, stretch itself upon the cross of Christ, and sense, “I am dead; the law has slain me, and I am therefore free from its power, because in my Guarantor I have borne the curse, and in the person of my Substitute the whole that the law could do, by way of condemnation, has been executed upon me, for I am crucified with Christ.”

But Paul meant even more than this. He not only believed in Christ’s death, and trusted in it, but he actually felt its power in himself in causing the crucifixion of his old corrupt nature. When he saw the pleasures of sin, he said, “I cannot enjoy these: I am dead to them.” Such is the experience of every true Christian. Having received Christ, he is to this world as one who is utterly dead. Yet, while conscious of death to the world, he can, at the same time, exclaim with the apostle, “Nevertheless I live.” He is fully alive unto God. The Christian’s life is a matchless riddle. No worldly ones can comprehend it; even the believer himself cannot understand it. Dead, yet alive! Crucified with Christ, and yet at the same time risen with Christ in newness of life! Union with the suffering, bleeding Saviour, and death to the world and sin, are soul-heartening things. O for more enjoyment of them!

Morning, December 14, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“They go from strength to strength.” — Psalm 84:7

They go from strength to strength. There are various renderings of these words, but all of them contain the idea of progress.

Our own good translation is enough for us this morning. “They go from strength to strength.” That is, they grow stronger and stronger. Usually, if we are walking, we go from strength to weakness; we start fresh and in good order for our journey, but eventually the road is rough, and the sun is hot, we sit down by the wayside, and then again painfully pursue our weary way. But the Christian pilgrim, having obtained fresh supplies of grace, is as vigorous after years of hard, tedious travel as when he first set out. He may not be quite so elated and buoyant, nor perhaps quite so hot and hasty in his zeal as he once was, but he is much stronger in all that constitutes real power, and travels, if more slowly, far more surely. Some gray-haired veterans have been as firm in their grasp of truth, and as zealous in diffusing it, as they were in their younger days; but, alas, it must be confessed it is often otherwise, for the love of many grows cold and iniquity spreads, but this is their own sin and not the fault of the promise which still holds good: “Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.” Anxious spirits sit down and trouble themselves about the future. “Alas,” they say, “we go from affliction to affliction!” Very true, O you of little faith, but then you go from strength to strength also. You shall never find a bundle of affliction which has not bound up in the midst of it sufficient grace. God will give the strength of ripe manhood with the burden allotted to full-grown shoulders.

Evening, December 13, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Moreover, I will make your battlements of rubies, And your gates of crystal, And your entire wall of precious stones.” — Isaiah 54:12

The church is most instructively symbolized by a building erected by heavenly power, and designed by divine skill. Such a spiritual house must not be dark, for the Israelites had light in their dwellings; there must therefore be walls of windows to let the light in and to allow the inhabitants to gaze abroad. These walls are precious stones of all kinds: the ways in which the church beholds her Lord and heaven, and spiritual truth in general, are to be had in the highest esteem. These are not the most transparent of gems, they are but semi-transparent at the best:

“Our knowledge of that life is small,

Our eye of faith is dim.”

Faith is one of these precious jeweled windows, but alas! It is often so misty and opaque, that we only see darkly, and mistake much that we do see. Yet if we cannot gaze through windows of diamonds and know even as we are known, it is a glorious thing to behold the altogether lovely One, even though the glass be hazy as the agate. Experience is another of these dim but precious windows, yielding to us a subdued religious light, in which we see the sufferings of the Man of Sorrows, through our own afflictions. Our weak eyes could not endure windows of transparent glass to let in the Master’s glory, but when they are dimmed with weeping, the beams of the Sun of Righteousness are tempered, and shine through the crystal windows with a soft radiance inexpressibly soothing to tempted souls. Sanctification, as it conforms us to our Lord, is another opaque window. Only as we become heavenly can we comprehend heavenly things. The pure in heart see a pure God. Those who are like Jesus see him as he is. Because we are so little like him, the window is like agate, and see dimly; because we are somewhat like him, it is like agate and we see him. We thank God for what we have, and long for more. When shall we see God and Jesus, and heaven and truth, face to face?

Morning, December 13, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Salt as needed.” — Ezra 7:22

Salt was used in every offering made by fire to the Lord, and from its preserving and purifying properties it was the comforting symbol of divine grace in the soul. It is worthy of our close attention  that, when Artaxerxes gave salt to Ezra the priest, he set no limit to the quantity, and we may be quite certain that when the King of kings distributes grace among his royal priesthood, the supply is not cut short by him. Often are we impoverished in ourselves, but never in the Lord. He who chooses to gather much manna will find that he may have as much as he desires. There is no such famine in Jerusalem that the citizens should eat their bread by weight and drink their water by measure. Some things in the economy of grace are measured; for instance our bitter medicines are given us with such exactness that we never have a single drop too much, but of the salt of grace no sparing is made, “Ask what you will and it shall be given to you.” Parents need to lock up the fruit cupboard, and the jars of sweets, but there is no need to keep the salt under lock and key, for few children will eat too greedily from that. A man may have too much money, or too much honor, but he cannot have too much grace. When Jeshurun (Israel) grew fat in the flesh, he forsook God, but there is no fear of a man’s becoming too full of grace: a overabundance of grace is impossible. More wealth brings more worry, but more grace brings more joy. Increased wisdom is increased sorrow, but abundance of the Spirit is fulness of joy. Believer, go to the throne for a large supply of heavenly salt. It will season your afflictions, which are unsavory without salt; it will preserve you heart which corrupts if salt is absent, and it will kill your sins even as salt kills reptiles. You need much; seek much, and have much.

Evening, December 12, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“They have dealt treacherously against the Lord.” — Hosea 5:7

Believer, here is a sorrow filled truth! You are the beloved of the Lord, redeemed by blood, called by grace, preserved in Christ Jesus, accepted in the Beloved, on your way to heaven, and yet, “You have dealt treacherously” with God, your best friend; treacherously with Jesus, to whom you belong; treacherously with the Holy Spirit, by whom you hast been quickened unto life eternal! How treacherous you have been in the matter of vows and promises. Do you remember the love of your heart, that happy time–the springtime of your spiritual life? Oh, how closely you did cling to your Master then, saying, “He shall never accuse me of indifference; my feet shall never grow slow in the way of his service; I will not allow my heart to wander after other loves; in him is every store of pleasantness indescribable. I give all up for my Lord Jesus’ sake!” Has it been so? Alas! If conscience speaks, it will say, “He who promised so fully has performed most poorly. Prayer has oftentimes been garbled –it has been short, but not sweet; brief, but not fervent. Communion with Christ has been forgotten. Instead of a heavenly mind, there have been selfish cares, worldly vanities and thoughts of evil. Instead of service, there has been disobedience; instead of fervency, lukewarmness; instead of patience, petulance; instead of faith, confidence in your own strength; and as a soldier of the cross there has been cowardice, disobedience, and desertion, to a very shameful degree.”

“You hast dealt treacherously.” Treachery to Jesus! What words shall be used in denouncing it? Words avail little: let our repentant thoughts greatly loath the sin which is so surely in us. Treacherous to your wounds, O Jesus! Forgive us, and let us not sin again! How shameful to be treacherous to him who never forgets us, but who this day stands with our names inscribed on his breastplate before the eternal throne.

Morning, December 12, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“His ways are everlasting.” — Habakkuk 3:6

What he has done before, he will do yet again. Man’s ways are variable, but God’s ways are everlasting. There are many reasons for this most comforting truth: among them are the following: the Lord’s ways are the result of wise deliberation; he orders all things according to the counsel of his own will. Human action is frequently the hasty result of passion, or fear, and is followed by regret and change; but nothing can take the Almighty by surprise, or happen otherwise than he has foreseen. His ways are the outgrowth of an unchangeable character, and in them the fixed and established attributes of God are clearly to be seen. Unless the Eternal One himself can undergo change, his ways, which are himself in action, must remain forever the same. Is he eternally just, gracious, faithful, wise, tender? Then his ways must ever be distinguished for the same qualities. Beings act according to their nature: when those natures change, their conduct varies also; but since God cannot know any variation or shifting shadow, his ways will stand everlastingly the same. Moreover, there is no external reason which could reverse the divine ways, since they are the embodiment of irresistible might. The earth is said, by the prophet, to be cleft with rivers, with mountains trembling; the deep lifts up its hands, and sun and moon stand still, when Jehovah marches forth for the salvation of his people. Who can stay his hand, or say to him, What are you doing? But it is not might alone which gives stability; God’s ways are the manifestation of the eternal principles of Right, and therefore can never pass away. Wrong breeds decay and involves ruin, but the true and the good have about them a vitality which ages cannot diminish.

This morning let us go to our heavenly Father with confidence, remembering that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and in him the Lord is ever gracious to his people.

Evening, December 11, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.” — Colossians 3:24

To what special order of officials was this word spoken? Was it to kings who proudly boast a divine right? Ah, no! Too often do they serve themselves or Satan, and forget the God whose tolerance permits them to wear their caricature majesty for their short time. Does the apostle speak then to those so-called “right reverend fathers in God,” the bishops, or “the venerable, the archdeacons?” No, indeed, Paul knew nothing of these mere inventions of man. Not even to pastors and teachers, or to the wealthy and esteemed among believers, was this word spoken, but to servants, yes, and to slaves. As we still find today, the apostle found among the laboring crowds some of the Lord’s chosen: the journeymen, the day laborers, the domestic servants, the menial workers of the kitchen, and to them he says, “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.” This saying adds dignity to the weary routine of earthly employment, and sheds a halo around the humblest occupations. To wash feet may be servile, but to wash his feet is royal work. To unloose the shoe lace is poor employment, but to unloose the great Master’s shoe is a princely privilege. The shop, the barn, the scullery, and the smithy become temples when men and women do all to the glory of God! Then “divine service” is not a thing of only a few hours and few places, but all life becomes holiness to the Lord, and every place and thing, as consecrated as the tabernacle and its golden candlestick.

“Teach me, my God and King, in all things thee to see;

And what I do in anything to do it as to thee.

All may of thee partake, nothing can be so mean,

Which with this tincture, for thy sake, will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause makes drudgery divine;

Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws, makes that and the action fine.”

Morning, December 11, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:24

Heaven is a place where we shall never sin; where we shall cease our constant watch against an unrelenting enemy, because there will be no tempter to trip us up. There the wicked cease from troubling us, and the weary are at rest. Heaven is the “undefiled inheritance;” it is the land of perfect holiness, and therefore of complete security. But do not the believers even on earth sometime taste the joys of perfect security? The doctrine of God’s word holds that all who are in union with the Lamb are safe; that all the righteous shall continue on their way; that those who have committed their souls to the keeping of Christ shall find him a faithful and unchangeable preserver. Sustained by such a doctrine we can enjoy security even on earth; not that high and glorious security which renders us free from every slip, but that holy security which arises from the sure promise of Jesus that none who believe in him shall ever perish, but shall be with him where he is. Believer, let us often reflect with joy on the truth that “nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord,” and honor the faithfulness of our God by a holy confidence in him.

May our God bring home to you a sense of your safety in Christ Jesus! May he assure you that your name is inscribed on his hand; and whisper in your ear the promise, “Fear not, I am with you.” Look upon him, the great Guarantor of the covenant, as faithful and true, and, therefore, bound and commissioned to present you, the weakest of the family, with all the chosen race, before the throne of God; and in such a sweet reverie you will drink the juice of the spiced wine of the Lord’s pomegranate, and taste the elegant fruits of Paradise. You will have a foretaste of the enjoyments which delight the souls of the perfected saints above, if you can believe with unwavering faith that “Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.”

Evening, December 10, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The Lord opened her heart to respond to the things spoken by Paul.” — Acts 16:14

In Lydia’s conversion there are many interesting points. It was brought about by providential circumstances. She was a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira, but just at the right time for hearing Paul we find her at Philippi; providence, which is the companion of grace, led her to the right spot. Again, grace was preparing her soul for the blessing–grace preparing for grace. She did not know the Savior, but as a Jewish woman, she knew many truths which were excellent stepping stones to a knowledge of Jesus. Her conversion took place as she practiced religion. On the Sabbath she went when prayer was accustomed to be made, and there prayer was heard. Never neglect the methods of grace; God may bless us when we are not in his house, but we have the greater reason to hope that he will when we are in fellowship with his saints. Observe the words, “Whose heart the Lord opened.” She did not open her own heart. Her prayers did not do it; Paul did not do it. The Lord himself must open the heart, to receive the things which make for our peace. He alone can put the key into the hole of the door and open it, and get admittance for himself. He is the heart’s master as he is the heart’s maker. The first outward evidence of the opened heart was obedience. As soon as Lydia had believed in Jesus, she was baptized. It is a precious sign of a humble and broken heart, when the child of God is willing to obey a command which is not essential to his salvation, which is not forced upon him by a selfish fear of condemnation, but is a simple act of obedience and of communion with his Master. The next evidence was love, manifesting itself in acts of grateful kindness to the apostles. Love of the believers has always been a mark of the true convert. Those who do nothing for Christ or his church give pathetic evidence of an “opened” heart. Lord, forever give me an opened heart.

Morning, December 10, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And so we will be with the Lord forever.” — 1 Thessalonians 4:17

Even the sweetest visits from Christ, how short they are–and how transitory! One moment our eyes see him, and we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory, but again a little time later we do not see him, for our beloved withdraws himself from us; like a small deer or a young buck he leaps over the mountain divide; he is gone to the far east, and feeds no more among the valley lilies.

“If today he deigns to bless us

With a sense of pardoned sin,

He to-morrow may distress us,

Make us feel the plague within.”

Oh, how delightful the prospect of the time when we shall not behold him at a distance, but see him face to face: when he shall not be as a wayfaring man tarrying but for a night, but shall eternally enfold us in the embrace of his glory. We shall not see him for a little season, but

“Millions of years our wondering eyes,

Shall o’er our Savior’s beauties rove;

And myriad ages we’ll adore,

The wonders of his love.”

In heaven there shall be no interruptions from needless cares or sin; no weeping shall blur our eyes; no earthly business shall distract our happy thoughts; we shall have nothing to hinder us from gazing forever on the Sun of Righteousness with unwearied eyes. Oh, if it is so precious to envision him now and then, how sweet to always gaze on that blessed face, and never have a cloud rolling between, and never have to turn one’s eyes away to look on a world of weariness and affliction! Blessed day, when will you dawn? Rise, O unsetting sun! The joys of our senses may leave us as time passes, but this shall make for glorious compensation. If to die is but to enter into uninterrupted communion with Jesus, then death is indeed gain, and the drop into darkness is swallowed up in a sea of victory.

Evening, December 9, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.” — Isaiah 32:18

Peace and rest do not belong to the unregenerate; they are the special possession of the Lord’s people, and of them only. The God of Peace gives perfect peace to those whose hearts are stayed upon him. Before man fell, his God gave him the flowery arbors of Eden as his quiet resting places; alas, how soon sin ruined the fair abode of innocence! In the day of universal wrath when the flood swept away a guilty race, the chosen family were quietly secured in the resting place of the ark, which floated them from the old condemned world into the new earth of the rainbow and the covenant, herein typifying Jesus, the ark of our salvation. Israel rested safely beneath the blood-sprinkled habitations of Egypt when the destroying angel struck the firstborn; and in the wilderness the shadow of the pillar of cloud, and the flowing rock, gave the weary pilgrims delightful tranquility. At this hour we rest in the promises of our faithful God, knowing that his words are full of truth and power; we rest in the doctrines of his word, which are comfort themselves; we rest in the covenant of his grace, which is a haven of delight. More highly favored are we than David in Adullam, or Jonah beneath his gourd-tree, for none can invade or destroy our shelter. The person of Jesus is the quiet resting place of his people, and when we draw near to him in the breaking of the bread, in the hearing of the word, the searching of the Scriptures, prayer, or praise, we find any form of approach to him to be the return of peace to our spirits.

“I hear the words of love, I gaze upon the blood,

I see the mighty sacrifice, and I have peace with God.

‘Tis everlasting peace, sure as Jehovah’s name,

‘Tis stable as his steadfast throne, for evermore the same:

The clouds may go and come, and storms may sweep my sky,

This blood-sealed friendship changes not, the cross is ever nigh.”

Morning, December 9, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Therefore the Lord longs to be gracious to you, and therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you.” — Isaiah 30:18

God often delays in answering prayer. We have several instances of this in sacred Scripture. Jacob did not get the blessing from the angel until near the dawn of day–he had to wrestle all night for it. The poor woman of Syrophoenicia was not answered a word for a long while. Paul implored the Lord three times that “the thorn in the flesh” might be taken from him, but he received no assurance that it should be taken away, but instead received a promise that God’s grace should be sufficient for him. If you have been knocking at the gate of mercy, and have received no answer, could I tell you why the mighty Maker has not opened the door and let you in? Our Father has reasons particular to himself for consequently keeping us waiting. Sometimes it is to show his power and his sovereignty, that men may know that Jehovah has a right to give or to withhold. More frequently the delay is for our profit. You are perhaps kept waiting in order that your desires may be more passionate. God knows that delay will give life to and increase desire, and that if he keeps you waiting you will see your necessity more clearly, and will seek more earnestly; and that you will prize the mercy all the more for its long delay. There may also be something wrong in you which needs to be removed, before the joy of the Lord is given. Perhaps your views of the Gospel are confused, or you may be placing some bit of reliance on yourself, instead of trusting simply and entirely in the Lord Jesus. Or, God makes you wait awhile that he may more fully display the riches of his grace to you at last. Your prayers are all recorded in heaven, and if not immediately answered they are certainly not forgotten, but in a little while shall be fulfilled to your delight and satisfaction. Do not let despair make you silent, but continue constantly in earnest appeal.

Evening, December 8, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“You provided in Your goodness for the poor, O God.” — Psalm 68:10

All God’s gifts are prepared gifts laid up in store for desires he has foreseen. He anticipates our needs; and out of the fullness which he has treasured up in Christ Jesus, he provides of his goodness for the poor. You may trust him for all the necessities that can occur, for he has infallibly foreknown every one of them. He can say of us in all conditions, “I knew that you would be this and that.” A man goes a journey across the desert, and when he has made a day’s advance, and pitched his tent, he discovers that he wants many comforts and necessaries which he has not brought in his baggage. “Ah!” says he, “I did not foresee this: if I had this journey to go again, I should bring these things with me, things so necessary to my comfort.” But God has marked with prescient eye all the requirements of his poor wandering children, and when those needs occur, supplies are ready. It is goodness which he has prepared for the poor in heart, goodness and goodness only. “My grace is sufficient for you.” “As your days, so shall your strength be.”

Reader, is your heart heavy this evening? God knew it would be; the comfort which your heart wants is treasured in the pleasant assurance of the text. You are poor and needy, but he has thought upon you, and has the exact blessing which you require in store for you. Beseech the promise, believe it and obtain its fulfillment. Do you feel that you never were so consciously vile as you are now? Behold, the crimson fountain is open still, with all its former efficiency, to wash your sin away. Never shall you come into such a position that Christ cannot aid you. No pinch shall ever arrive in your spiritual affairs in which Jesus Christ shall not be equal to the emergency, for your history has all been foreknown and provided for in Jesus.

Morning, December 8, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“But you have a few people in Sardis who have not soiled their garments; and they will walk with Me in white, for they are worthy.” — Revelation 3:4

We may understand this to refer to justification. “They shall walk in white;” that is, they shall enjoy a constant sense of their own justification by faith; they shall understand that the righteousness of Christ is credited to them, that they have all been washed and made whiter than the newly fallen snow.

Again, it refers to joy and gladness: for white robes were holiday dress among the Jews. They who have not defiled their garments shall have their faces always bright; they shall understand what Solomon meant when he said “Go then, eat your bread in happiness and drink your wine with a cheerful heart; for God has already approved your works.” He who is accepted of God shall wear white garments of joy and gladness, while he walks in sweet communion with the Lord Jesus. From what source comes so many doubts, so much misery, and mourning? It is because so many believers defile their garments with sin and oversight, and hence they lose the joy of their salvation, and the comfortable fellowship of the Lord Jesus; they do not here below walk in white.

The promise also refers to walking in white before the throne of God. Those who have not defiled their garments here shall most certainly walk in white in heaven, where the white-robed hosts sing perpetual praise to the Most High. They shall possess joys inconceivable, happiness beyond a dream, bliss which imagination cannot know, blessedness which even the extent of desire has not reached. The “undefiled in the way” shall have all this–not of merit, nor of works, but of grace. They shall walk with Christ in white, for he has made them “worthy.” In his delightful company they shall drink of the living fountains of waters.

Evening, December 7, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I have become all things to all men, so that I may by all means save some.” — 1 Corinthians 9:22

Paul’s great objective was not merely to instruct and to improve, but to save. Anything short of this would have disappointed him; he would have men renewed in heart, forgiven, sanctified, in fact, saved. Have our Christian labors been aimed at anything below this great goal? Then let us amend our ways, for of what avail will it be at the last great day to have taught and moralized men if they appear before God unsaved? Blood will be on our hands be if through life we have sought inferior objectives, and forgotten that men needed to be saved. Paul knew the ruin of man’s natural state, and did not try to educate him, but to save him; he saw men sinking to hell, and did not talk of refining them, but of saving from the wrath to come. To accomplish their salvation, he gave himself up with untiring zeal to tell the gospel abroad, to warn and implore men to be reconciled to God. His prayers were persistent and his labor incessant. To save souls was his consuming passion, his ambition, his calling. He became a servant to all men, laboring for his race, feeling a grief within him if he did not preach the gospel. He laid aside his preferences to prevent prejudice; he submitted his will in things passable, and if men would just receive the gospel, he raised no questions about forms or ceremonies: the gospel was the one all-important business with him. If he might save some he would be content. This was the crown for which he strove, the sole and sufficient reward of all his labors and self-denial. Dear reader, have you and I lived to win souls at this honorable rate? Are we possessed with the same all-absorbing desire? If not, why not? Jesus died for sinners, cannot we live for them? Where is our tenderness? Where our love to Christ, if we do not seek his honor in the salvation of men? O that the Lord would saturate us through and through with an undying zeal for the souls of men.

Morning, December 7, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen.” — 1 Corinthians 1:28

Walk the streets by moonlight, if you dare, and you will see sinners then. Watch when the night is dark, and the wind is howling, and the picklock is grating in the door, and you will see sinners then. Go to yonder jail, and walk through the cellblocks, and mark the men with forceful and angry faces, men whom you would not like to meet at night, and there are sinners there. Go to the youth correctional facilities, and note those who have revealed a rampant juvenile depravity, and you will see sinners there. Go across the seas to the place where a man will gnaw a bone upon which is reeking human flesh, and there is a sinner there. Go where you will; you need not rummage through the earth to find sinners, for they are common enough; you may find them in every lane and street of every city, and town, and village, and neighborhood. It is for such as these that Jesus died. If you will select me the most uncivilized specimen of humanity, if he is only born of woman, I will have hope of him yet, because Jesus Christ is come to seek and to save sinners. God’s love has selected some of the worst to be made the best. Grace turns pebbles of the brook into jewels for the royal crown. Worthless dross he transforms into pure gold. Redeeming love has set apart many of the worst of mankind to be the reward of the Savior’s sacrifice. Effective grace calls forth many of the vilest of the vile to sit at the table of mercy, and therefore, let none despair.

Reader, by that love looking out of Jesus’ tearful eyes, by that love streaming from those bleeding wounds, by that faithful love, that strong love, that pure, impartial, and abiding love, by the heart and by the depths of the Savior’s compassion, we suggest you not turn away as though it were nothing to you; but believe on him and you shall be saved. Trust your soul with him and he will bring you to his Father’s right hand in glory everlasting.

Evening, December 6, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 ‘Girded across His chest with a golden sash.” — Revelation 1:13

“One like the Son of Man” appeared to John in Patmos, and the beloved disciple marked that he wore a sash of gold. A sash, for Jesus never was unadorned while upon earth, but stood always ready for service, and now before the eternal throne he does not relax His holy ministry, but as a priest is girt about with “the curious girdle of the ephod.” It is well for us that he has not ceased to fulfill his responsibility of love for us, since this is one of our choicest safeguards, that he ever lives to make intercession for us. Jesus is never a shirker; his garments are never undone as though his responsibilities were ended; he diligently carries on the cause of his people. A golden sash, to manifest the superiority of his service, the royalty of his person, the dignity of his state, the glory of his reward. No longer does he cry out of the dust, but he pleads with authority, a King as well as a Priest. Safe enough is our cause in the hands of our enthroned Melchizedek.

Our Lord presents all his people with an example. We must never unbind our sashes. This is not the time for lying down at ease, it is the season of service and warfare. We need to bind the sash of truth more and more tightly around our haunches. It is a golden sash, and so will be our richest adornment, and we greatly need it, for a heart that is not well braced up with the truth as it is in Jesus, and with the fidelity which is fashioned by the Spirit, will be easily entangled with the things of this life, and tripped up by the snares of temptation. It is in vain that we possess the Scriptures unless we bind them around us like a sash, surrounding our entire nature, keeping each part of our character in order, and giving solidity to our whole man. If in heaven Jesus unbinds not the sash, much less may we upon earth. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth.

Morning, December 6, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And as is the heavenly, so also are those who are heavenly.” — 1 Corinthians 15:48

The head and other members are of one nature, and not like that monstrous image which Nebuchadnezzar saw in his dream. The head was of fine gold, but the belly and thighs were of brass, the legs of iron, and the feet, part of iron and part of clay. Christ’s mystical body is no absurd combination of opposites; the members were mortal, and therefore Jesus died; the glorified head is immortal, and therefore the body is immortal too, for accordingly the record states, “Because I live, you shall live also.” As our loving Head is, such is the body, and every member in particular. A chosen Head and chosen members; an accepted Head, and accepted members; a living Head, and living members. If the head is pure gold, all the parts of the body are of pure gold also. Thus is there a double union of nature as a basis for the closest communion.

Pause here, devout reader, and see if you can, without delighted amazement, contemplate the infinite act of the descent of the Son of God and consequent exalting of your desolate state into holy union with his glory. You are of such low standing that in remembrance of your mortality, you may say to decay, “You are my father,” and to the worm, “You are my sister”; and yet in Christ you are so honored that you can say to the Almighty, “Abba, Father,” and to Jesus, the Incarnate God, “You are my brother and my husband.” Surely if relationships to ancient and noble families make men think highly of themselves, we have that which to glory over the heads of them all. Let the poorest and most despised believer lay hold upon this privilege. Do not let a senseless lethargy make him negligent to trace his pedigree, and do not let him tolerate any foolish attachments to this day’s worthless pleasures, as to occupy his thoughts to the exclusion of this glorious and heavenly honor of union with Christ.

Evening, December 5, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Then the Lord showed me four craftsmen.” — Zechariah 1:20

In the vision described in this chapter, the prophet saw four terrible horns. They were pushing this way and that way, dashing down the strongest and the mightiest; and the prophet asked, “What are these?” The answer was, “These are the horns which have scattered Israel.” He saw before him a representation of those powers which had oppressed the church of God. There were four horns; for the church is attacked from all four quarters. The prophet might well have felt dismayed; but all in a sudden there appeared before him four craftsmen. He asked, “What shall these do?”

These are the men whom God has found to break those horns in pieces. God will always find men for his work, and he will find them at the right time. The prophet did not see the craftsmen first, when there was nothing to do, but first the “horns,” and then the “craftsmen.” Furthermore, the Lord finds enough men. He did not find three craftsmen, but four; there were four horns, and there must be four workmen. God finds the right men; not four men with pens to write; not four architects to draw plans; but four craftsmen to do rough work. Rest assured, you who tremble for the ark of God, that when the “horns” grow troublesome, the “craftsmen” will be found. You do not need to fret concerning the weakness of the church of God at any moment; there may be growing up in obscurity the valiant reformer who will shake the nations: Chrysostoms may come forth from our schools for the poor, and Augustines from the thickest darkness of London’s poverty. The Lord knows where to find his servants. He has set in ambush a multitude of mighty men, and at his word they shall start up to the battle; “for the battle is the Lord’s,” and he shall get for himself the victory. Let us abide faithful in Christ, and he, in the right time, will raise up for us a defense, whether it is in the day of our personal need, or in a season of peril to his Church.

Morning, December 5, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Ask, and it will be given to you.” — Matthew 7:7

We know of a place in England still existing, where a piece of bread is served to every passerby who chooses to ask for it. Whoever the traveler may be, he has only to knock at the door of St. Cross Hospital, and there is the portion of bread for him. Jesus Christ so loves sinners that he has built a St. Cross Hospital, so that whenever a sinner is hungry, he has but to knock and have his needs supplied. No, he has even done better; he has attached to this Hospital of the Cross a bath; and whenever a soul is black and filthy, it has but to go there and be washed. The fountain is always full, always successful. No sinner ever went into it and found that it could not wash away his stains. Sins which were scarlet and crimson have all disappeared, and the sinner has been made whiter than snow. As if this were not enough, there is attached to this Hospital of the Cross a wardrobe, and a sinner making application simply as a sinner, may be clothed from head to foot; and if he wishes to be a soldier, he may not merely have a garment for ordinary wear, but armor which shall cover him from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. If he asks for a sword, he shall have that given to him, and a shield too. Nothing that is good for him shall be denied him. He shall have spending-money so long as he lives, and he shall have an eternal heritage of glorious treasure when he enters into the joy of his Lord.

If all these things are to be had by merely knocking at mercy’s door, O my soul, knock hard this morning, and ask large things of your generous Lord. Do no leave the throne of grace until all your wants have been spread before the Lord, and until by faith you have a assured prospect that they shall be all supplied. No bashfulness need cause hesitation when Jesus invites. No unbelief should hinder when Jesus promises. No cold-heartedness should restrain when such blessings are to be obtained.

Editors note: St. Cross Hospital still gives a portion of bread and a cup of ale — the Wayfarer’s Dole — to anyone who asks….

Evening, December 4, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body.” — Romans 8:23

This groaning is universal among the believers: to a greater or lesser extent we all feel it. It is not the groan of muttering or complaint: it is rather the note of desire than of distress. Having received an down payment, we desire the whole of our inheritance; we are sighing that our entire humanity, in its trinity of spirit, soul, and body, may be set free from the last vestige of the fall; we long to put off corruption, weakness, and dishonor, and to wrap ourselves in incorruption, in immortality, in glory, in the spiritual body which the Lord Jesus will bestow upon his people. We long for the manifestation of our adoption as the children of God. “We groan,” but it is “within ourselves.” It is not the hypocrite’s groan, by which he would make men believe that he is a saint because he is wretched. Our sighs are sacred things, too hallowed for us to tell abroad. We keep our longings to our Lord alone. Then the apostle says we are “waiting,” by which we learn that we are not to be sulking, like Jonah or Elijah, when they said, “Let me die”; nor are we to whimper and sigh for the end of life because we are tired of work, nor wish to escape from our present trials till the will of the Lord is done. We are to groan for glorification, but we are to wait patiently for it, knowing that what the Lord appoints is best. Waiting implies being ready. We are to stand at the door expecting the Beloved to open it and take us away to himself. This “groaning” is a test. You may judge of a man by what he groans after. Some men groan after wealth–they worship Mammon; some groan continually under the troubles of life–they are merely impatient; but the man who sighs after God, who is uneasy till he is made like Christ, that is the blessed man. May God help us to groan for the coming of the Lord, and the resurrection which he will bring to us.

Morning, December 4, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I have many people in this city.” — Acts 18:10

This should be a great encouragement to try to do good, since God has among the vilest of the vile, the most degenerate, the most depraved and drunken, an elect people who must be saved. When you take the Word to them, you do so because God has ordained you to be the messenger of life to their souls, and they must receive it, for so the decree of predestination runs. They are as much redeemed by blood as the saints before the eternal throne. They are Christ’s property, and yet perhaps they are lovers of the tavern, and haters of holiness; but if Jesus Christ purchased them he will have them. God is not unfaithful to forget the price which his Son has paid. He will not suffer his substitution to be in any case an ineffective, dead thing. Tens of thousands of redeemed ones are not regenerated yet, but regenerated they must be; and this is our comfort when we go forth to them with the life giving Word of God.

And in addition, these ungodly ones are prayed for by Christ before the throne. “Neither pray I for these alone,” say the great Intercessor, “but for them also which shall believe on me through their word.” Poor, ignorant souls, they know nothing about prayer for themselves, but Jesus prays for them. Their names are on his breastplate, and before long they must bow their stubborn knee, breathing the penitent sigh before the throne of grace. “The time of figs is not yet.” The predestined moment has not struck; but, when it comes, they shall obey, for God will have his own; they must, for the Spirit is not to be withstood when he comes forth with fullness of power–they must become the willing servants of the living God. “My people shall be willing in the day of my power.” “He shall justify many.” “He shall see of the travail of his soul.” “I will divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong.”

Editor’s note:  Calvinist predetermination was an integral part of the theological fabric of Spurgeon’s day, and although both Calvinists and Armenians embrace Spurgeon, here he sways towards the Calvinists. When I was a young Christian (over 4 decades ago now) I had all this figured out. 

After years of study and prayer, I now know far less than I thought I did then. The attributes of God that challenge me most are His Eternity, His Omniscience, and His Incomprehensibility, all of which place Him outside of the stream of time that so closely binds our thought processes and our existence. Nothing is “yet to happen” for God; He has never had a thought occur to him; He’s never been surprised. It is simple for Him to declare who is part of the “elect,” because it is impossible for Him not to know the His children down to the last molecule. To God, no one is predetermined, because to Him there is neither pre- nor post-, no then and now, but for our benefit and limited comprehension all Scripture is revealed to us to the extent which we can understand framed within the constraints of time and our puny minds.

We understand the nature of man only slightly more than we understand God’s nature (1
Corinthians 2) and in no sense do we comprehend either.  We are never commended for our understanding, but rather for our obedience. God has indeed ordained us to be messengers of life (because He says he has); people are exhorted to call upon the name of the Lord, and believe in Him, (because He says they should).  We are encouraged to choose to follow Him (because He has paid the price for us to do so.)

Evening, December 3, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The Lord mighty in battle.” — Psalm 24:8

It is well that in the eyes of his people our God may be glorious, seeing that he has worked such wonders for them, in them, and by them.

For them, the Lord Jesus upon Calvary routed every foe, breaking all the weapons of the enemy in pieces by his finished work of acceptable obedience; by his triumphant resurrection and ascension he completely overturned the hopes of hell, leading captivity captive, making a show of our enemies openly, triumphing over them by his cross. Every arrow of guilt which Satan might have shot at us is broken, for who can lay any evil thing to the charge of God’s selected people? Useless are the sharp swords of demonic malice, and the perpetual battles of the serpent’s seed, for in the midst of the church the wounded take the prey, and the weakest warriors are crowned.

The saved may very well adore their Lord for his conquests in them, since the arrows of their natural hatred of God are snapped, and the weapons of their rebellion broken. What victories has grace won in our evil hearts! How glorious is Jesus when the will is subdued, and sin dethroned! As for our remaining corruption, it shall sustain an equally sure defeat, and every temptation, and doubt, and fear, shall be utterly destroyed. In Salem, the city of peace where our hearts dwell, the name of Jesus is great beyond compare: he has won our love, and he shall wear it.

In this security we may expect victories by us. We are more than conquerors through him that loved us. We shall cast down the powers of darkness which are in the world, by our faith, and zeal, and holiness; we shall win sinners to Jesus, we shall overturn false worldviews, we shall convert nations, for God is with us, and none shall stand before us. This evening let the Christian warrior chant the war song, and prepare for tomorrow’s fight. Greater is he that is in us than he that is in the world.

Morning, December 3, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“There is no blemish in you.” — Song of Solomon 4:7

Having pronounced his Church positively full of beauty, our Lord confirms his praise by a precious negative, “There is no blemish in you.” As if the thought occurred to the Bridegroom that the critical world would insinuate that he had only mentioned her attractive parts, and had purposely omitted those features which were deformed or defiled, he sums up all by declaring her universally and entirely fair, and utterly devoid of blemish. A spot may soon be removed, and is the very least thing that can disfigure beauty, but even from this little blemish the believer is delivered in his Lord’s sight. If he had said there is no hideous scar, no horrible deformity, no deadly ulcer, we might even then have marveled; but when he testifies that she is free from the slightest spot, all these other forms of defilement are included, and the depth of our wonder is increased. If he had only promised to remove all spots eventually, we would have had eternal reason for joy; but when he speaks of it as already done, who can restrain the most intense emotions of satisfaction and delight? O my soul, here is the richest of foods for you; eat your fill, and be satisfied with royal desserts.

Christ Jesus has no quarrel with his spouse. She often wanders from him, and grieves his Holy Spirit, but he does not allow her faults to affect his love. He sometimes reprimands, but it is always in the most tender manner, with the kindest intentions: it is, “my love” even then. There is no memory of our foolishness, he does not cherish unkind thoughts of us, but he pardons and loves as well after any offence as before it. It is well for us it is so, for if Jesus were as mindful of injuries as we are, how could he commune with us? Many times a believer will put himself in a bad mood with the Lord for some slight downturn in his provision, but our precious Husband knows our childish hearts too well to take any offence at our ill manners.

Evening, December 2, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“All is vanity and striving after wind. — Ecclesiastes 1:14

Nothing can satisfy the entire man but the Lord’s love and the Lord’s own self. His followers have tried to find security in other roads, but they have been driven out of such fatal refuges. Solomon, the wisest of men, was permitted to make experiments for us all, and to do for us what we must not dare to do for ourselves. Here is his testimony in his own words: “Then I became great and increased more than all who preceded me in Jerusalem. My wisdom also stood by me. All that my eyes desired I did not refuse them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart was pleased because of all my labor and this was my reward for all my labor. Thus I considered all my activities which my hands had done and the labor which I had exerted, and behold all was vanity and striving after wind and there was no profit under the sun.” “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” What! The whole of it vanity? O favored monarch, is there nothing in all your wealth? Nothing in that wide dominion reaching from the river even to the sea? Nothing in Palmyra’s glorious palaces? Nothing in the house of the forest of Lebanon? In all your music and dancing, and wine and luxury, is there nothing? “Nothing,” he says, “but weariness of spirit.” This was his verdict when he had travelled the whole round of pleasure. To embrace our Lord Jesus, to dwell in his love, and be fully assured of union with him–this is all in all. Dear reader, you need not try other forms of life in order to see whether they are better than the Christian’s: if you roam the world around, you will see no sights like a sight of the Savior’s face; if you could have all the comforts of life, if you lost your Savior, you would be wretched. But if you win Christ, then if you should rot in a dungeon, you would find it a paradise; if you should you live in obscurity, or die with famine, you will yet be satisfied with favor and full of the goodness of the Lord.