101. The Exaltation of Christ

by Charles H. Spurgeon on May 5, 2009

The text I have selected is one that has comforted me, and in a great measure, enabled me to come here today—the single reflection upon it had such a power of comfort on my depressed spirit.

A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, November 2, 1856, By Pastor C. H. Spurgeon, At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

Therefore God also has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Php 2:9-11)

1. I almost regret this morning that I have ventured to occupy this pulpit, because I feel utterly unable to preach to you for your profit. I had thought that the quiet and repose of the last two weeks had removed the effects of that terrible catastrophe;1 but on coming back to the same spot again, and more especially, standing here to address you, I feel somewhat of those same painful emotions which almost prostrated me before. You will therefore excuse me this morning, if I make no allusion to that solemn event, or scarcely any. I could not preach to you upon a subject that should be in the least allied to it. I should be obliged to be silent if I would bring to my remembrance that terrific scene in the midst of which it was my solemn lot to stand. God shall overrule it doubtlessly. It may not have been so much by the malice of men, as some have asserted; it was perhaps simple wickedness—an intention to disturb a congregation; but certainly with no thought of committing so terrible a crime as that of the murder of those unhappy creatures. God forgive those who were the instigators of that horrible act! They have my forgiveness from the depths of my soul. It shall not stop us, however; we are not in the least degree daunted by it. I shall preach there again yet; aye, and God shall give us souls there, and Satan’s empire shall tremble more than ever. “God is with us; who is he that shall be against us?” The text I have selected is one that has comforted me, and in a great measure, enabled me to come here today—the single reflection upon it had such a power of comfort on my depressed spirit. It is this:—“Therefore God also has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Php 2:9-11)

2. I shall not attempt to preach upon this text; I shall only make a few remarks that have occurred to my own mind; for I could not preach today; I have been utterly unable to study, but I thought that even a few words might be acceptable to you this morning, and I trust to your loving hearts to excuse them. Oh, Spirit of God, magnify your strength in your servant’s weakness, and enable him to honour his Lord, even when his soul is cast down within him.

3. When the mind is intensely set upon one object, however much it may by various calamities be tossed to and fro, it invariably returns to the place which it had chosen to be its dwelling place. You have noticed this in the case of David. When the battle had been won by his warriors, they returned flush with victory. David’s mind had doubtless suffered much turmoil in the mean time, he had dreaded alike the effects of victory and defeat; but have you not noticed how his mind in one moment returned to the darling object of his affections? “Is the young man Absalom safe?” he said, as if it did not matter what else had occurred, if only his beloved son was secure! So, beloved, is it with the Christian. In the midst of calamities, whether they are the wreck of nations, the crash of empires, the heaving of revolutions, or the scourge of war, the great question which he asks himself, and asks of others too, is this—“Is Christ’s kingdom safe?” In his own personal afflictions his chief anxiety is,—“Will God be glorified, and will his honour be increased by it?” “If it is so,” says he, “although I be only as smoking flax, yet if the sun is not dimmed I will rejoice, and though I be a bruised reed, if the pillars of the temple are unbroken, what matters it that my reed is bruised?” He finds it sufficient consolation, in the midst of all the breaking in pieces which he endures, to think that Christ’s throne stands fast and firm, and that though the earth has rocked beneath his feet, yet Christ stands on a rock which never can be moved. Some of these feelings, I think, have crossed our minds. Amid much tumult and various rushings to and fro of troublous thoughts our souls have returned to the darling object of our desires, and we have found it no small consolation after all to say, “It does not matter what shall become of us: God has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.”

4. This text has afforded sweet consolation to every heir of heaven. Allow me, very briefly, to give you the consolations of it. To the true Christian there is much comfort in the very fact of Christ’s exaltation. In the second place, there is no small degree of consolation in the reason for it. “Therefore, also, God has highly exalted him;” that is, because of his previous humiliation. And thirdly, there is no small amount of really divine solace in the thought of the person who has exalted Christ. “Therefore God also”—although men despise him and cast him down—“God also has highly exalted him.”

5. I. First, then, IN THE VERY FACT OF CHRIST’S EXALTATION THERE IS TO EVERY TRUE CHRISTIAN A VERY LARGE DEGREE OF COMFORT. Many of you who have no part nor lot in spiritual things, not having love for Christ, nor any desire for his glory, will only laugh when I say that this is a very bottle of cordial to the lip of the weary Christian, that Christ, after all, is glorified. To you it is no consolation, because you lack that condition of heart which makes this text sweet to the soul. To you there is nothing of joy in it; it does not stir your heart; it gives no sweetness to your life; for this very reason, that you are not joined to Christ’s cause, nor do you devoutly seek to honour him. But the true Christian’s heart leaps for joy, even when cast down by various sorrows and temptations, at the remembrance that Christ is exalted, for in that he finds enough to cheer his own heart. Note here, beloved, that the Christian has certain features in his character which make the exaltation of Christ a matter of great joy to him. First, he has in his own opinion, and not in his own opinion only, but in reality, a relationship to Christ, and therefore he feels an interest in the success of his kinsman. You have watched the father’s joy, when step by step his boy has climbed to opulence or fame; you have marked the mother’s eye, as it sparkled with delight when her daughter grew up to womanhood, and burst forth in all the grandeur of beauty. You have asked why they should feel such interest; and you have been told, because the boy was his, or the girl was hers. They delighted in the advancement of their little ones, because of their relationship. Had there been no relationship, they might have been advanced to kings, emperors, or queens, and they would have felt very little delight. But from the fact of kindred, each step was invested with a deep and stirring interest. Now, it is so with the Christian. He feels that Jesus Christ, the glorified “Prince of the kings of the earth,” is his brother. While he reverences him as God, he admires him as the man-Christ, bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, and he delights, in his calm and placid moments of communion with Jesus, to say to him, “Oh Lord, you are my brother.” His song is, “My beloved is mine, and I am his.” It is his joy to sing—

In ties of blood with sinners one,

Christ Jesus is; for he is man, even as we are: and he is no less and no more man than we are, except only for sin. Surely, when we feel we are related to Christ, his exaltation is the source of the greatest joy to our spirits; we take a delight in it, seeing it is one of our family that is exalted. It is the Elder Brother of the great one family of God in heaven and earth; it is the Brother to whose all of us are related.

6. There is also in the Christian not only the feeling of relationship merely, but there is a feeling of unity in the cause. He feels that when Christ is exalted, it is himself exalted in some degree, seeing he has sympathy with his desire of promoting the great cause and honour of God in the world. I have no doubt that every common soldier who stood by the side of the Duke of Wellington felt honoured when the commander was applauded for the victory; for, he said, “I helped him, I assisted him; it was but a small part that I played; I only kept my rank; I only endured the enemy’s fire; but now the victory is gained. I feel an honour in it, for I helped, in some degree, to gain it.” So the Christian, when he sees his Lord exalted, says, “It is the Captain that is exalted, and all his soldiers share in his exaltation. Have I not stood by his side? Little was the work I did, and poor the strength which I possessed to serve him; but still I aided in the labour;” and the most common of soldiers in the spiritual ranks feels that he himself is in some degree exalted when he reads this—“Therefore God also has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name:” a renown above every name—“that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.”

7. Moreover, the Christian knows not only that there is this unity in design, but that there is a real union between Christ and all his people. It is a doctrine of revelation seldom discoursed upon, but never too much thought of—the doctrine that Christ and his members are all one. Do you not know, beloved, that every member of Christ’s church is a member of Christ himself? We are “of his flesh and of his bones,” parts of his great mystical body; and when we read that our head is crowned, oh rejoice, you members of his, his feet or his hands, though the crown is not on you, yet being on your Head, you share the glory, for you are one with him. See Christ up there, sitting at his Father’s right hand! Believer! he is the pledge of your glorification; he is the surety of your acceptance; and, moreover he is your representative. The seat which Christ possesses in heaven he has not only by his own right, as a person of the Deity, but he has it also as the representative of his whole church, for he is their forerunner, and he sits in glory as the representative of everyone of them. Oh rejoice, believer, when you see your Master exalted from the tomb, when you behold him exalted up to heaven. Then, when you see him climb the steps of light, and sit upon his lofty throne, where angels’ sight can scarcely see him—when you hear the acclamations of a thousand seraphs—when you do note the loud pealing choral symphony of millions of the redeemed; think, when you see him crowned with light—think that you are exalted too in him, seeing that you are a part of him. You are happy if you know this, not only in doctrine, but in sweet experience too. Knit to Christ, wedded to him, grown into him, parts and portions of his very self, we throb with the heart of the body; when the head itself is glorified we share in the praise; we feel that his glorification bestows an honour upon us. Ah! beloved, have you ever felt that unity to Christ? Have you ever felt a unity of desire with him? If so, you will find this rich with comfort; but if not—if you do not know Christ—it will be a source of grief rather than a pleasure to you that he is exalted, for you will have to reflect that he is exalted to crush you, exalted to judge you and condemn you, exalted to sweep this earth of its sins, and cut the curse up by the roots, and you with it, unless you repent and turn to God with full purpose of heart.

8. There is yet another feeling, which I think is extremely necessary for any very great enjoyment of this truth, that Christ is exalted. It is a feeling of entire surrender of one’s whole being to the great work of seeking to honour him. Oh! I have striven for that: would to God I might attain to it! I have now concentrated all my prayers into one, and that one prayer is this, that I may die to self, and live wholly for him. It seems to me to be the highest stage of man—to have no wish, no thought, no desire but Christ—to feel that to die would be bliss, if it was for Christ—that to live in penury and woe, and scorn, and contempt, and misery, would be sweet for Christ—to feel that it did not matter what became of one’s self, so that only one’s Master was exalted—to feel that though, like a dry leaf, you are blown in the blast, you are quite indifferent about where you are going, as long as you feel that the Master’s hand is guiding you according to his will. Or rather to feel that though like the diamond you must be cut, that you do not care how sharply you may be cut, so that you may be made fit to be a brilliant gem in his crown; that you care little what may be done to you, if you may but honour him. If any of you have attained to that sweet feeling of self-annihilation, you will look up to Christ as if he was the sun, and you will say of yourself, “Oh Lord, I see your beams; I feel myself to be not a beam from you—but darkness, swallowed up in your light. The most I ask is, that you would live in me, that the life I live in the flesh may not be my life, but your life in me, that I may say with emphasis, as Paul did, "For me to live is Christ."” A man who has attained this, never needs to care what is the opinion of this world. He may say, “Do you praise me? Do you flatter me? Take back your flatteries; I do not ask for them from your hands; I sought to praise my Master; you have laid the praises at my door; go, lay them at his, and not at mine. Do you scorn me? Do you despise me? Thrice happy am I to bear it, if you will not scorn and despise him!” And if you will, yet know this, that he is beyond your scorn; and, therefore, smite the soldier for his Captain’s sake; aye, strike, strike; but the King you cannot touch—he is highly exalted—and though you think you have gotten the victory, you may have routed one soldier of the army, but the main body is triumphant. One soldier seems to be smitten to the dust, but the Captain is coming on with his victorious cohorts, and shall trample you, flush with your false victory, beneath his conquering feet. As long as there is a particle of selfishness remaining in us, it will mar our sweet rejoicing in Christ; until we get rid of it, we shall never feel constant joy. I do think that the root of sorrow is self. If we once got rid of that, sorrow would be sweet, sickness would be health, sadness would be joy, penury would be wealth, as far as our feelings with regard to them are concerned. They might not be changed, but our feelings under them would be vastly different. If you would seek happiness, seek it at the roots of your selfishness; cut down your selfishness, and you will be happy. I have found that whenever I have yielded to the least joy when I have been praised, I have made myself effeminate and weak; I have then been prepared to feel acutely the arrows of the enemy; but when I have said of the praises of men, “Yes, what are you? worthless things!”—then I could also say of their contempt—“Come on! come on! I’ll send you all where I sent the praises; you may go together, and fight your battles with one another; but as for me, let your arrows rattle on my mail—they must not, and they shall not, reach my flesh.” But if you give way to one you will to another. You must seek and learn to live wholly on Christ—to sorrow when you see Christ maligned and dishonoured, to rejoice when you see him exalted, and then you will have constant cause for joy. Sit down now, oh reviled one, poor, despised, and tempted one; sit down, lift up your eyes, see him on his throne, and say within yourself, “Little though I am, I know I am united to him; he is my love, my life, my joy; I care not what happens, so long as it is written, "The Lord reigns."”

9. II. Now, briefly upon the second point. Here also is the very fountain and wellspring of joy, in THE REASON OF CHRIST’S EXALTATION. “Therefore God also has highly exalted him.” Why? Because, “he being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God has also highly exalted him.” This of course relates to the manhood of our Lord Jesus Christ. As God, Christ needed no exaltation; he was higher than the highest, “God over all, blessed for ever.” But the symbols of his glory having been for a while obscured, having wrapped his Godhead in mortal flesh, his flesh with his Godhead ascended up on high, and the God-Man, Christ Jesus, who had stooped to shame, and sorrow, and degradation, was highly exalted “far above all principalities and powers,” that he might reign Prince regent over all worlds, yes, over heaven itself. Let us consider, for a moment, that depth of degradation to which Christ descended; and then, my beloved, it will give you joy to think, that for that very reason his manhood was highly exalted. Do you see that man—

The humble Man before his foes,
The weary Man and full of woes?

Do you see him as he speaks? Note the marvellous eloquence which pours from his lips, and see how the crowds attend him? But do you hear, in the distance, the growling of the thunders of calumny and scorn? Listen to the words of his accusers. They say he is “a gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners;” “he has a devil, and is mad.” All the whole vocabulary of abuse is exhausted by the censure heaped upon him. He is slandered, abused, persecuted! Stop! Do you think that he is cast down or degraded by this? No, for this very reason: “God has highly exalted him.” Look at the shame and spitting that have come upon the cheek of that man of sorrows! See his hair plucked with cruel hands; mark how they torture him and how they mock him. Do you think that this is all dishonourable to Christ? It is apparently so, but listen to this: “He became obedient,” and therefore “God has highly exalted him.” Ah! there is a marvellous connection between that shame, and spitting, and the bending of the knee of seraphs; there is a strange yet mystic link which unites the calumny and the slander with the choral sympathies of adoring angels. The one was, as it were, the seed of the other. Strange that it should be, but the black, the bitter seed brought forth a sweet and glorious flower which blooms for ever. He suffered and he reigned; he stooped to conquer, and he conquered for he stooped, and was exalted for he conquered.

10. Consider him further still. Do you see him in your imagination nailed to that cross! Oh yes! your eyes are full of pity and filled with tears! Oh! how I see the floods gushing down his cheeks! Do you see his hands bleeding, and his feet too, gushing gore? Behold him! The bulls of Bashan gird him around and the dogs are hounding him to death! Hear him! “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” The earth startles with fright. A God is groaning on a cross! What! Does this not dishonour Christ? No; it honours him! Each of the thorns becomes a brilliant gem in his diadem of glory; the nails are forged into his sceptre, and his wounds do clothe him with the purple of empire. The treading of the winepress has stained his garments, but not with stains of scorn and dishonour. The stains are embroideries upon his royal robes for ever. The treading of that winepress has made his garments purple with the empire of a world; and he is the Master of a universe for ever. Oh Christian! sit down and consider that your Master did not mount from earth’s mountains into heaven, but from her valleys. It was not from heights of bliss on earth that he strode to bliss eternal, but from depths of woe he mounted up to glory. Oh! what a stride was that, when, at one mighty step from the grave to the throne of The Highest, the man Christ, the God, did gloriously ascend. And yet reflect! He in some way, mysterious yet true, was exalted because he suffered. “Being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name.” Believer, there is comfort for you here, if you will take it. If Christ was exalted through his degradation, so shall you be. Do not count your steps to triumph by your steps upward, but by those which are seemingly downward. The way to heaven is downhill. He who would be honoured for ever must sink in his own esteem, and often in that of his fellowmen. Oh! do not think of that fool who is mounting to heaven by his own light opinions of himself and by the flatteries of his fellows, that he shall safely reach Paradise; no, that shall burst on which he rests, and he shall fall and be broken in pieces. But he who descends into the mines of suffering, shall find unbounded riches there; and he who dives into the depths of grief, shall find the pearl of everlasting life within its caverns. Remember Christian, that you are exalted when you are disgraced; read the slanders of your enemies as the plaudits of the just; count that the scoff and jeer of wicked men are equal to the praise and honour of the godly; consider their accusations to be censure, and their censure praise. Know also, if your body should ever be exposed to persecution, that it is no shame to you, but the reverse, and if you should be privileged, (and you may) to wear the blood red crown of martyrdom, count it no disgrace to die. Remember, the most honourable in the church are “the noble army of martyrs.” Know also that the greater the sufferings they endured, so much the greater is their “eternal weight of glory;” and so do you, if you stand in the brunt and thick of the fight, remember that you shall stand in the midst of glory. If you have the hardest part to bear, you shall have the sweetest to enjoy. On with you, then—through floods, through fire, through death, through hell, if it should lie in your path. Do not fear. He who glorified Christ because he stooped shall glorify you; for after he has caused you to endure awhile, he will give you “a crown of life which does not fade away.”

11. III. And now, in the last place, beloved, here is yet another comfort for you. THE PERSON who exalted Christ is to be noticed. “GOD also has highly exalted him.” The tzar of all the Russians crowns himself: he is an autocrat, and puts the crown upon his own head: but Christ has no such foolish pride. Christ did not crown himself. “GOD also has highly exalted him.” The crown was put upon the head of Christ by God; and there is to me a very sweet reflection in this,—that the hand that put the crown on Christ’s head, will one day put the crown on ours;—that the same Mighty One who crowned Christ, “King of kings, and Lord of lords,” will crown us, when he shall make us “kings and priests to him for ever.” “I know,” said Paul, “there is laid up for me a crown of glory which does not fade away, which God, the righteous judge, shall give to me in that day.”

12. Now, just pause over this thought—that Christ did not crown himself, but that his Father crowned him; that he did not elevate himself to the throne of majesty, but that his Father lifted him there, and placed him on his throne. Why, reflect thus: Man never highly exalted Christ. Put this then in opposition to it.—“God also has highly exalted him.” Man hissed him, mocked him, hooted him. Words were not hard enough—they would use stones. “They took up stones again to stone him.” And stones failed; nails must be used, and he must be crucified. And then there comes the taunt, the jeer, the mockery, while he hangs languishing on his death cross. Man did not exalt him. Set the black picture there. Now put this with this glorious, this bright scene, side by side with it, and one shall be a foil to the other. Man dishonoured him; “God also exalted him.” Believer, if all men speak ill of you, lift up your head, and say, “Man did not exalted my Master; I thank him that he does not exalt me. The servant should not be above his master, nor the servant above his lord, nor he that is sent greater than he that sent him.”

If on my face for his dear name,
  Shame and reproach shall be;
I’ll hail reproach and welcome shame,
  For he’ll remember me.

God will remember me, and highly exalt me after all, though man casts me down.

13. Put it, again, in opposition to the fact, that Christ did not exalt himself. Poor Christian! you feel that you cannot exalt yourself. Sometimes you cannot raise your poor depressed spirits. Some say to you, “Oh! you should not feel like this.” They tell you, “Oh! you should not speak such words, nor think such thoughts.” Ah! “the heart knows its own bitterness, and a stranger does not intermeddle with it,”—aye, and I will improve upon it, “nor a friend either.” It is not easy to tell how another ought to feel and how another ought to act. Our minds are differently made, each in its own mould, and this mould is broken afterwards, and there shall never be another like it. We are all different, each one of us; but I am sure there is one thing in which we are all brought to unite in times of deep sorrow, namely, in a sense of helplessness. We feel that we cannot exalt ourselves. Now remember, our Master felt just like that. In the 22nd Psalm, which, if I read it correctly, is a beautiful soliloquy of Christ upon the cross, he says to himself, “I am a worm and no man.” As if he felt himself so broken, so cast down, that instead of being more than a man, as he was, he felt for awhile less than man. And yet, when he could not lift a finger to crown himself, when he could scarcely heave a thought of victory, when his eye could not flash with even a distant glimpse of triumph,—then his God was crowning him. Are you so broken in pieces, Christian? Do not think that you are cast away for ever; for “God also has highly exalted him” who did not exalt himself; and this is a picture and prophecy of what he will do for you.

14. And now, beloved, I can say little more upon this text, except that I ask you now for a few minutes meditate and think upon it. Oh! let your eyes be lifted up; bid heaven’s blue veil divide; ask power from God—I mean spiritual power from on high, to look within the veil. I do not ask you to look at the streets of gold, nor at the walls, of jasper, nor at the pearly gated city. I do not ask you to turn your eyes to the white robed hosts, who for ever sing loud hallelujahs; but over there, my friends, turn your eyes,

There, like a man, the Saviour sits;
  The God, how bright he shines;
And scatters infinite delight
  On all the happy minds.

Do you see him?

The head that once was crowned with thorns,
  Is crowned with glory now;
A royal diadem adorns
  That mighty Victor’s brow.
No more the bloody crown,
  The cross and nails no more:
For hell itself shakes at his frown
  And all the heavens adore.

15. Look at him! Can your imagination picture him? Behold his transcendent glory! The majesty of kings is swallowed up; the pomp of empires dissolves like the white mist of the morning before the sun; the brightness of assembled armies is eclipsed. He in himself is brighter than the sun, more terrible than armies with banners. See him! See him! Oh! hide your heads, oh monarchs; put away your gaudy pageantry, oh lords of this poor narrow earth! His kingdom knows no bounds; without a limit his vast empire stretches out itself. Above him all is his; many steps beneath him are angels, and they are his; and they cast their crowns before his feet. With them stand his elect and ransomed, and their crowns too are his. And here upon this lower earth stand his saints, and they are his, and they adore him; and under the earth, among the infernals, where devils growl their malice, even there is trembling and adoration; and where lost spirits, with wailing and gnashing of teeth for ever lament their being, even there, there is the acknowledgement of his Godhead, even though the confession helps to stoke the fire of their torments. In heaven, in earth, in hell, all knees bend before him, and every tongue confesses that he is God. If not now, yet in the time that is to come this shall be carried out, that every creature of God’s making shall acknowledge his Son to be “God over all, blessed for ever. Amen.” Oh! my soul anticipates that blessed day, when this whole earth shall bend its knee before its God willingly! I do believe there is a happy era coming, when there shall not be one knee unbent before my Lord and Master. I look for that time, that latter day glory, when kings shall bring presents, when queens shall be the nursing mothers of the church, when the gold of Sheba and the ships of Tarshish, and the dromedaries of Arabia shall alike be his, when nations and tribes of every tongue shall

Dwell on his name with sweetest song,
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on his name.

Sometimes, I hope to live to see that all auspicious era—that halcyon age of this world, so much oppressed with grief and sorrow by the tyranny of its own inhabitants. I hope to see the time, when it shall be said, “Shout, for the great Shepherd reigns, and his unsuffering kingdom now is come”—when earth shall be one great orchestra of praise, and every man shall sing the glorious hallelujah anthem of the King of kings. But even now while waiting for that era, my soul rejoices in the fact, that every knee does virtually bow, though not willingly, yet really. Does the scoffer, when he bad mouths high heaven, think that he insults God? He thinks so, but his insult dies long before it reaches halfway to the stars. Does he conceive, when in his malice he forges a sword against Christ, that his weapon shall prosper? If he does, I can well conceive the derision of God, when he sees the wildest rebel, the most abandoned despiser, still working out his great decrees, still doing that which God has eternally ordained, and in the midst of his wild rebellion still running in the very track which in some mysterious way from before all eternity had been marked as the track in which that being should certainly move. “The wild steeds of earth have broken their bridles, the reins are out of the hands of the charioteer”—so some say; but they are not, or if they are, the steeds run the same round as they would have done had the Almighty grasped the reins still. The world has not gone to confusion; chance is not God; God is still Master, and let men do what they will, and hate the truth we now prize, they shall after all do what God wills, and their direst rebellion shall prove but a sample of obedience, though they do not know it.

16. But you will say, “Why do you yet find fault; for who has resisted such a will as that?” “No, but oh man, who are you who replies against God? Shall the thing formed say to him who formed it, why have you made me thus? Has not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel for honour, and another for dishonour? What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted for destruction: and that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared for glory.” Who is he that shall blame him? Woe to him who strives with his Maker! He is God—know that, you inhabitants of the land; and all things, after all, shall serve his will. I like what Luther says in his bold hymn, where, notwithstanding all that those who are haters of predestination choose to affirm, he knew and boldly declared, “He everywhere has sway, and all things serve his might.” Notwithstanding all they do, there is God’s sway, after all. Go on, oh reviler! God knows how to make all your revilings into songs! Go on, oh warrior against God, if you will; know this, your sword shall help to magnify God, and carve out glory for Christ, when you think to slaughter his church. It shall come to pass that all you do shall be frustrated; for God makes the diviners mad, and says, “Where is the wisdom of the scribe? Where is the wisdom of the wise?” Surely, “Him has God exalted, and given him a name which is above every name.”

17. And now, lastly, beloved, if it is true, as it is that Christ is so exalted that he is to have a name above every name, and every knee is to bow to him, will we not bow our knees this morning before his Majesty? You must, whether you will or not, one day bow your knee. Oh iron sinewed sinner, bow your knee now! You will have to bow it, man, in that day when the lightnings shall be loosen, and the thunders shall roll in wild fury: you will have to bow your knee then. Oh! bow it now! “Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled only a little.” Oh Lord of hosts! bend the knees of men! Make us all the willing subjects of your grace, lest afterward, we should be the unwilling slaves of your terror; dragged with chains of vengeance down to hell. Oh that now those who are on earth might willingly bend their knees lest in hell it should be fulfilled, “Things under the earth shall bow the knee before him.”

18. God bless you, my friends; I can say no more except that. God bless you, for Jesus’ sake! Amen.

Spurgeon Sermons

These sermons from Charles Spurgeon are a series that is for reference and not necessarily a position of Answers in Genesis. Spurgeon did not entirely agree with six days of creation and dives into subjects that are beyond the AiG focus (e.g., Calvinism vs. Arminianism, modes of baptism, and so on).

Terms of Use

Modernized Edition of Spurgeon’s Sermons. Copyright © 2010, Larry and Marion Pierce, Winterbourne, Ontario, Canada. Used by Answers in Genesis by permission of the copyright owner. The modernized edition of the material published in these sermons may not be reproduced or distributed by any electronic means without express written permission of the copyright owner. A limited license is hereby granted for the non-commercial printing and distribution of the material in hard copy form, provided this is done without charge to the recipient and the copyright information remains intact. Any charge or cost for distribution of the material is expressly forbidden under the terms of this limited license and automatically voids such permission. You may not prepare, manufacture, copy, use, promote, distribute, or sell a derivative work of the copyrighted work without the express written permission of the copyright owner.

Footnotes

  1. On Sunday morning, October, 19, 1856, Spurgeon was to preach to for the first time at Surrey Gardens Music Hall. The building had seating for over ten thousand people and was the one of the largest auditoriums in England at that time. The young preacher arrived early at the Hall and was amazed to see the streets and garden area thronged with people. When the doors were opened, the people entered quickly and soon the place was full. Wisely, Spurgeon started the service earlier than the time announced. He led in prayer and then announced a hymn, which the large congregation sang reverently. He then read scripture and commented on it, and this was followed by a pastoral prayer. As he was praying, voices began to shout “Fire! Fire! The galleries are giving way! The place is falling!” Spurgeon stopped praying and did his best to calm the people, but the damage had been done. In the stampede that followed, seven people were killed and twenty-eight injured. Spurgeon tried to preach, hoping that that would arrest the crowd, but the tumult and the shouting were even too much for the prince of preachers. He then asked the people to sing a hymn as they exited in an orderly manner, and he himself left in a state of shock. He spent the next week in a broken condition, wondering if he would ever preach again.

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