214. His Name—Wonderful!

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The world has been passing through these clouds of darkness, and the light is gleaming on us now, like the glintings of the first rays of morning.

A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, September 19, 1858, By Pastor C. H. Spurgeon, At The Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.

His name shall be called Wonderful. (Isa 9:6)

1. One evening last week I stood by the seashore when the storm was raging. The voice of the Lord was upon the waters; and who was I that I should stay indoors, when my Master’s voice was heard sounding along the water? I rose and stood to see the flash of his lightnings, and listen to the glory of his thunders. The sea and the thunders were contesting with one another; the sea with infinite clamour striving to hush the deep throated thunder, so that his voice would not be heard; yet over and above the roar of the billows might be heard that voice of God, as he spoke with flames of fire, and divided the way for the waters. It was a dark night, and the sky was covered with thick clouds, and scarcely a star could be seen through the rifts of the tempest; but at one particular time, I noticed far away on the horizon, as if miles across the water, a bright shining, like gold. It was the moon hidden behind the clouds, so that she could not shine upon us; but she was able to send her rays down upon the waters, far away, where no cloud happened to intervene. I thought as I read this chapter last evening, that the prophet seemed to have stood in a similar position, when he wrote the words of my text. All around him were clouds of darkness; he heard prophetic thunders roaring, and he saw flashes of the lightnings of divine vengeance; clouds and darkness, for many a league, were scattered through history; but he saw far away a bright spot—one place where the clear shining came down from heaven. And he sat down, and he penned these words: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light: they who live in the land of the shadow of death, the light has shone upon them;” and though he looked through whole leagues of space, where he saw the battle of the warrior “with confused noise and garments rolled in blood,” yet he fixed his eye upon one bright spot in the future, and he declared, that there he saw hope of peace, prosperity and blessedness; for said he, “To us a child is born, to us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful.”

2. My dear friends, we live today upon the verge of that bright spot. The world has been passing through these clouds of darkness, and the light is gleaming on us now, like the glintings of the first rays of morning. We are coming to a brighter day, and “at evening time it shall be light.” The clouds and darkness shall be rolled up as a mantle that God no longer needs, and he shall appear in his glory, and his people shall rejoice with him. But you must mark, that all the brightness was the result of this child being born, this son being given, whose name is called Wonderful; and if we can discern any brightness in our own hearts, or in the world’s history, it can come from nowhere else, than from the one who is called “Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God.”

3. The person spoken of in our text, is undoubtedly the Lord Jesus Christ. He is a child who is born, with reference to his human nature; he is born of the virgin, a child. But he is a son who is given, with reference to his divine nature, being given as well as born. Of course, the Godhead could not be born of woman. That was from everlasting, and is to everlasting. As a child he was born, as a son he was given. “The government is upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful.” Beloved, there are a thousand things in this world, that are called by names that do not belong to them; but in entering upon my text, I must announce at the very outset, that Christ is called Wonderful, because he is so. God the Father never gave his Son a name which he did not deserve. There is no extravagant praise here, no flattery. It is just the simple name that he deserves, they who know him best will say that the word does not exaggerate his qualities, but rather falls infinitely short of his glorious deserving. His name is called Wonderful. And mark, it does not merely say, that God has given him the name of Wonderful—though that is implied; but “his name shall be called” so. It shall be; it is at this time called Wonderful by all his believing people, and it shall be. As long as the moon endures, there shall be found men, and angels, and glorified spirits, who shall always call him by his rightful name. “His name shall be called Wonderful.”

4. I find that this name may bear two or three interpretations. The word is sometimes in Scripture translated “marvellous.” Jesus Christ may be called marvellous; and a learned German interpreter says, that without doubt, the meaning of miraculous is also wrapped up in it. Christ is the marvel of marvels, the miracle of miracles. “His name shall be called Miraculous,” for he is more than a man, he is God’s highest miracle. “Great is the mystery of godliness; God was revealed in the flesh.” It may also mean separated, or distinguished. And Jesus Christ may well be called this; for as Saul was distinguished from all men, being head and shoulders taller than they, so is Christ distinguished above all men; he is anointed with the oil of gladness above all other men, and in his character, and in his acts he is infinitely separated from all comparison with any of the sons of men. “You are fairer than the children of men; grace is poured into your lips.” He is “the chief among ten thousand and altogether lovely.” “His name shall be called the Separated One,” the distinguished one, the noble one, set apart from the common race of mankind.

5. We shall, however, this morning, keep to the old version, and simply read it thus, “His name shall be called Wonderful.” And first I shall notice that Jesus Christ deserves to be called Wonderful for what he was in the past; secondly, that he is called Wonderful by all his people for what he is in the present; and thirdly, that he shall be called Wonderful, for what he shall be in the future.

6. I. First, Christ shall be called Wonderful for WHAT HE WAS IN THE PAST. Collect your thoughts, my brethren, for a moment, and centre them all on Christ, and you will soon see how wonderful he is. Consider his eternal existence, “begotten of his Father from before all worlds,” being of the same substance with his Father: begotten, not made, co-equal, co-eternal, in every attribute, “very God of very God.” For a moment remember that he who became an infant of a span long, was no less than the King of ages, the everlasting Father, who was from eternity, and is to be to all eternity. The divine nature of Christ is indeed wonderful. Just think for a moment, how much interest centres around the life of an old man. Those of us who are only as children in years, look up to him with wonder and astonishment, as he tells us the varied stories of the experience through which he has passed; but what is the life of an aged man—how brief it appears when compared with the life of the tree that shelters him. It existed long before that old man’s father crept as helpless infant into the world. How many storms have swept over its brow! how many kings have come and gone! how many empires have risen and fallen since that old oak was slumbering in its acorn cradle! But what is the life of the tree compared with the soil on which it grows? What a wonderful story that soil might tell! What changes it has passed through in all the eras of time that have elapsed since “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” There is a wonderful story connected with every atom of black mould which furnishes the nourishment of the oak. But while is the history of that soil compared with the marvellous history of the rock on which it rests—the cliff on which it lifts its head. Oh! what stories might it tell, what records lie hidden within it. Perhaps it could tell the story of the time when “the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the earth.” Perhaps it might speak and tell us of those days when the morning and the evening were the first day, and the morning and the evening were the second day, and could explain to us the mysteries of how God made this marvellous piece of miracle,—the world. But what is the history of the cliff, compared with that of the sea that rolls at its base—that deep blue ocean, over which a thousand navies have swept, without leaving a furrow upon its brow! But what is the history of the sea, compared with the history of the heavens that are stretched like a curtain over that vast basin! What a history is that of the hosts of heaven—of the everlasting marches of the sun, moon, and stars! Who can tell their generation, or who can write their biography? But what is the history of the heavens, compared with the history of the angels? They could tell you of the day when they saw this world wrapped in swaddling bands of mist—when, like a newborn infant, the last of God’s offspring, it came forth from him, and the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy. But what is the history of the angels that excel in strength, compared with the history of the Lord Jesus Christ? The angel is only of yesterday, and he knows nothing; Christ, the Eternal One, charges even his angels with folly, and looks upon them as his ministering spirits, that come and go at his good pleasure. Oh, Christians, gather with reverence and mysterious awe around the throne of him who is your great Redeemer; for “his name is called Wonderful,” since he has existed before all things, and “by him all things were made; and without him was not anything made that was made.”

7. Consider, again, the incarnation of Christ, and you will rightly say, that his name deserves to be called “Wonderful.” Oh! what is that I see? Oh! world of wonders, what is that I see? The Eternal of ages, whose hair is white like wool, as white as snow, becomes an infant. Can it be? You angels, are you not astonished? He becomes an infant, rests on a virgin’s bosom, draws his nourishment from the breast of a woman. Oh wonder of wonders! Manger of Bethlehem, you have miracles poured into you. This is a sight that surpasses all others. Talk of the sun, moon, and stars; consider the heavens, the work of God’s fingers, the moon and the stars that he has ordained; but all the wonders of the universe shrink into nothing, when we come to the mystery of the incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was a marvellous thing when Joshua ordered the sun to stand still, but more marvellous when God seemed to stand still, and no longer to move forward, but rather, like the sun upon the dial of Ahaz, went back ten degrees, and veiled his splendour in a cloud. There have been matchless and wonderful sights, at which we might look for years, and yet turn away and say, “I cannot understand this; here is a deep into which I dare not dive; my thoughts are drowned; this is a steep without a summit; I cannot climb it; it is too high, I cannot attain to it!” But all these things are as nothing, compared with the incarnation of the Son of God. I do believe that the very angels have wondered incessantly ever since they first saw it. They never cease to tell the astonishing story, and to tell it with increasing astonishment too, that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was born of the Virgin Mary, and became a man. Is he not rightly called Wonderful? Infinite, and an infant—eternal, and yet born of a woman—Almighty, and yet resting on a woman’s bosom—supporting the universe, and yet needing to be carried in a mother’s arms—king of angels, and yet the reputed son of Joseph—heir of all things, and yet the carpenter’s despised son. Wonderful are you, oh Jesus, and that shall be your name for ever.

8. But trace the Saviours course, and all the way he is wonderful. Is it not marvellous that he submitted to the taunts and jeers of his enemies—that for all his life he should allow the bulls of Bashan to surround him and the dogs to encompass him? Is it not surprising that he should have bridled in his anger, when blasphemy was uttered against his sacred person? Had you or I been possessed of his matchless might, we should have dashed our enemies down the brow of the hill, if they had sought to cast us there; we should never have submitted to shame and spitting; no, we would have looked upon them, and with one fierce look of wrath, have dashed their spirits into eternal torment. But he hears it all—keeps in his noble spirit—the lion of the tribe of Judah, but bearing still the lamb-like character of

The humble man before his foes,
A weary man, and full of woes.

I do believe that Jesus of Nazareth was the king of heaven, and yet he was a poor, despised, persecuted, slandered man; but while I believe it I never can understand it. I bless him for it; I love him for it; I desire to praise his name while immortality endures for his infinite condescension in thus suffering for me; but to understand it, I can never pretend. His name must all his life long be called Wonderful.

9. But see him die. Come oh my brothers, you children of God, and gather around the cross. See your Master. There he hangs. Can you understand this riddle: God was revealed in the flesh, and crucified by men? My Master, I cannot understand how you could stoop your sacred head to such a death as this—how then could take from your brow the coronet of stars which from old eternity had shone resplendently there; but how you should permit the thorn crown to gird the temples astonishes me far more. That you should cast away the mantle of your glory, the azure of your everlasting empire, I cannot comprehend; but how you should have become veiled in the ignominious purple for awhile, and then be bowed to by impious men, who mocked you as a pretended king, and how you should be stripped naked to your shame, without a single covering, this is still more incomprehensible. Truly your name is Wonderful. Oh your love to me is wonderful, surpassing the love of a woman. Was there ever grief like yours? Was there ever love like yours, that could open the flood gates of such grief. Your grief is like a river; but was there ever a spring that poured out such a torrent? Was there ever love so mighty as to become the fount from which such an ocean of grief could come rolling down? Here is matchless love—matchless love to make him suffer, matchless power to enable him to endure all the weight of his Father’s wrath. Here is matchless justice, that he himself should acquiesce to his Father’s will, and not allow men to be saved without his own sufferings; and here is matchless mercy to the chief of sinners, that Christ should suffer even for them. “His name shall be called Wonderful.”

10. But he died. He died! See Salem’s daughters weep around him. Joseph of Arimathea takes up the lifeless body after it has been taken down from the cross. They bear it away to the sepulchre. It is put in a garden. Do you call him Wonderful now?

Is this the Saviour long foretold
To usher in the age of gold?

And is he dead? Lift his hands! They drop motionless by his side. His foot still exhibits the nail print; but there is no sign of life. “Aha,” cries the Jew, “is this the Messiah? He is dead; he shall see corruption in a little while. Oh! watchman, keep a good watch lest his disciples steal his body. His body can never come forth, unless they do steal it; for he is dead. Is this the Wonderful the Counsellor?” But God did not leave his soul in Hades; nor did he allow his body—“his holy one”—to see corruption? Yes, he is wonderful, even in his death. That cold clay corpse is wonderful. Perhaps this is the greatest wonder of all, that he who is “Death of death and hell’s destruction” should for a while endure the bonds of death. But here is the wonder. He could not be held by those bonds. Those chains which have held ten thousand of the sons and daughters of Adam, and which have never been broken yet by any man of human mould, unless by a miracle, were only to him as green bowstrings. Death bound our Samson fast and said, “I have him now, I have taken away the locks of his strength; his glory is departed, and now he is mine;” but the hands that kept the human race in chains were nothing to the Saviour; the third day he burst them, and he rose again from the dead, from henceforth to die no more. Oh! you risen Saviour—you who could not see corruption—you are wonderful in your resurrection. And you are wonderful too in your ascension—as I see you leading captivity captive and receiving gifts for men. “His name shall be called Wonderful.”

11. Pause here one moment, and let us think—Christ is surpassingly wonderful. The little story I have told you just now—not little in itself, but little as I have told it—has in it something surpassingly wonderful. All the wonders that you ever saw are nothing compared with this. As we have passed through various countries we have seen a wonder, and some older traveller than ourselves has said, “Yes this is wonderful to you, but I could show you something that utterly eclipses that.” Though we have seen some splendid landscapes, with glorious hills, and we have climbed up where the eagle in his flight seemed to knit the mountain and the sky together, and we have stood and looked down, and said, “How wonderful!” He says, “I have seen fairer lands than these, and wider and richer prospects by far.” But when we speak of Christ, no one can say they ever saw a greater wonder than he is. You have come now to the very summit of everything that may be wondered about. There are no mysteries equal to this mystery, there is no surprise equal to this surprise; there is no astonishment, no admiration that should equal the astonishment and admiration that we feel when we see Christ in the glories of the past. He surpasses everything.

12. And yet again—wonder is a short lived emotion; you know, it is proverbial that a wonder grows grayheaded in nine days. The longest period that a wonder is found to last is about that time. It is such a short lived thing. But Christ is, and ever shall be wonderful. You may think of him through threescore years and ten, but you shall wonder at him more at the end than at the beginning. Abraham might wonder about him, when he saw his day in the distant future; but I do not think that even Abraham himself could wonder about Christ so much as the very least in the kingdom of heaven of today wonders about him, since we know much more than Abraham, and therefore wonder even more. Think again for one moment, and you will say about Christ that he deserves to be called Wonderful, not only because he is always wonderful, and because he is surpassingly wonderful, but also because he is altogether wonderful. There have been some great feats of skill in the arts and sciences; for instance, if we take a common wonder of the day, the telegraph—how much there is about that which is wonderful! But there are a great many things in the telegraph that we can understand. Though there are many mysteries in it, still there are parts of it that are like keys to the mysteries, so that if we cannot completely solve the riddle, yet we can understand some of the simpler aspects of how it works. But now if you look at Christ in any manner, from anywhere, in anyway, he is all mystery, he is altogether wonderful, always to be seen and always to be admired.

13. And again, he is universally wondered about. They tell us that the religion of Christ is very good for old women. I was once complimented by a person, who told me he believed my preaching would be extremely suitable for blacks—for negroes. He did not intend it as a compliment, but I replied, “Well sir, if it is suitable for blacks I should think it would be very suitable for whites; for there is only a little difference of skin, and I do not preach to people’s skins, but to their hearts.” Now, with respect to Christ we can say that he is universally a wonder, the strongest intellects have wondered about him. Our Lockes and our Newtons have felt themselves to be as little children when they have come to the foot of the cross. The wonder has not been confined to ladies, to children, to old women and dying men; the highest intellects, and the lustiest minds have all wondered about Christ. I am sure it is a difficult task to make some people wonder. Hard thinkers and close mathematicians are not easily made to wonder; but such men have covered their faces with their hands and cast themselves in the dust, and confessed that they have been lost in wonder and amazement. Most certainly then may Christ be called Wonderful.

14. II. “His name shall be called Wonderful.” He is wonderful for WHAT HE IS IN THE PRESENT. And here I will not diverge, but will just appeal to you personally. Is he wonderful to you? Let me tell the story of my own wonderment about Christ, and in telling it, I shall be relating the experience of all God’s children. There was a time when I did not wonder about Christ. I heard about his beauties, but I had never seen them; I heard about his power, but it was nothing to me; it was only news of something done in a far country—I had no connection with it, and therefore I did not pay any attention to it. But there was a time when there came one to my house of a black and terrible appearance. He pounded the door; I tried to bolt it—to hold it fast. He struck again and again, until at last he entered, and with a rough voice he summoned me before him; and he said, “I have a message from God for you; you are condemned on account of your sins.” I looked at him with astonishment; I asked him his name. He said, “My name is the Law;” and I fell at his feet as one who was dead. “I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died.” As I lay there, he struck me. He struck me until every rib seemed as if it must break, and the bowels be poured forth. My heart was melted like wax within me; I seemed to be stretched upon a rack—to be pinched with hot irons—to be beaten with whips of burning wire. An extreme misery lived and reigned in my heart. I did not dare to lift up my eyes, but I thought within myself, “There may be hope, there may be mercy for me. Perhaps the God whom I have offended may accept my tears and my promises of reformation, and I may live.” But when that thought crossed my mind, the blows were heavier and my sufferings more poignant than before, until hope entirely failed me, and I had nothing to trust in. Black and dense darkness gathered around me; I heard a voice as it were, of rushing to and fro, and of wailing and gnashing of teeth. I said within my soul, “I am cast out from his sight, I am utterly abhorred by God, he has trampled me in the mire of the streets in his anger.” And one passed by, of sorrowful but of loving appearance, and he stooped over me, and he said, “Awake oh sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.” I arose in astonishment, and he took me, and he led me to a place where a cross stood, and he seemed to vanish from my sight. But he appeared again hanging there. I looked upon him as he bled upon that tree. His eyes darted a glance of love unutterable into my spirit, and in a moment, looking at him, the bruises that my soul had suffered were healed; the gaping wounds were cured; the broken bones rejoiced; the rags that had covered me were all removed; my spirit was white as the spotless snows of the far off north; I had melody within my spirit, for I was saved, washed, cleansed, forgiven, through him that hung upon the tree. Oh, how I wondered that I should be pardoned! It was not the pardon that I wondered about so much; the wonder was that it should come to me. I wondered that he should be able to pardon such sins as mine; such crimes, so numerous and so black, and that after such an accusing conscience he should have power to still every wave within my spirit, and make my soul like the surface of a river, undisturbed, quiet, and at ease. His name then to my spirit was Wonderful. But, brothers and sisters, if you have felt this, you can say you thought him wonderful then—if you are feeling it, a sense of adoring wonder enraptures your heart even now.

15. And has he not been wonderful to you ever since that auspicious hour, when you first heard Mercy’s voice spoken to YOU? How often have you been in sadness, sickness, and sorrow! But your pain has been light, for Jesus Christ has been with you on your sickbeds; your care has been no care at all, for you have been able to cast your burden upon him. The trial which threatened to crush you, rather lifted you up to heaven, and you have said “How wonderful that Jesus Christ’s name should give me such comfort, such joy, such peace, such confidence.” Various things bring to my remembrance of a time almost two years ago.1 Never shall we forget, beloved, the judgments of the Lord, when by terrible things in righteousness he answered our prayer that he would give us success in this house. We cannot forget how the people were scattered—how some of the sheep were slain, and the shepherd himself was smitten. I may not have told in your hearing the story of my own woe. Perhaps never soul went so near the burning furnace of insanity, and yet came away unharmed. I have walked by that fire until these locks seemed to be crisp with its heat. My brain was racked. I dared not look up to God, and prayer that was once my solace, was cause of my fright and terror, if I attempted it. I shall never forget the time when I first became restored to myself. It was in the garden of a friend. I was walking, solitary and alone, musing upon my misery, much cheered as that was by the kindness of my loving friend, yet far too heavy for my soul to bear, when suddenly the name of Jesus flashed through my mind. The person of Christ seemed visible to me. I stood still. The burning lava of my soul was cooled. My agonies were hushed. I bowed myself there, and the garden that had seemed a Gethsemane became to me a Paradise. And then it seemed so strange to me, that nothing should have brought me back except that name of Jesus. I thought indeed at that time that I would love him better all the days of my life. But there were two things I wondered about. I wondered that he should be so good to me, and I wondered more that I should have been so ungrateful to him. But his name has been from that time “Wonderful” to me, and I must mention what he has done for my soul.

16. And now, brothers and sisters, you shall all find, every day of your life, whatever your trials and troubles, that he shall always be made the more wonderful by them. He sends your troubles to be like a black foil, to make the diamond of his name shine the brighter. You would never know the wonders of God if you did not discover them in the furnace. “Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters, these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep,” and we shall never see the wonders of God except in that deep; we must go into the depths before we know how wonderful is his power and his might to save.

17. I must not leave this point without one more remark. There have been times when you and I have said of Christ, “His name is wonderful indeed, for by it we have been transported entirely above the world, and carried upward to the very gates of heaven itself.” I pity you, beloved, if you do not understand the rhapsody I am about to describe. There are moments when the Christian feels the charms of earth all broken, and his wings are unbound, and he begins to fly; and up he soars, until he forgets earth’s sorrows and leaves them far behind; and up he goes until he forgets earth’s joys, and leaves them like the mountain tops far below, as when the eagle flies to meet the sun; and up, up, up he goes, with his Saviour fully before him almost in vision most beautiful. His heart is full of Christ; his soul beholds his Saviour, and the cloud that darkened his view of the Saviour’s face seems to be dispersed. At such a time the Christian can sympathise with Paul. He says, “Whether in the body or out of the body I cannot tell—God knows!” but I am, as it were, “caught up to the third heaven.” And how is this rapture produced? By the music of flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and all kinds of instruments? No. How then? By riches? By fame? By wealth? Ah, no. By a strong mind? By a lively disposition? No. By the name of Jesus. That one name is all sufficient to lead the Christian into heights of transport that verge upon the region where the angels fly in cloudless day.

18. III. I have no more time to spend on this point, although the text is infinite, and one might preach upon it for ever. I have only to notice that his name shall be called Wonderful IN THE FUTURE.

19. The day is come, the day of wrath, the day of fire. The ages are ended; the last century, like the last pillar of a dilapidated temple, has crumbled to its fall. The clock of time is about to strike its last hour. It is on the stroke. The time is come when the things that are made must disappear. Lo, I see earth’s bowels moving. A thousand hills give up the slumbering dead. The battlefields are clothed no more with the rich harvests that have been manured with blood; but a new harvest has sprung up. The fields are thick with men. The sea itself becomes a prolific mother, and though she has swallowed men alive, she gives them up again, and they stand before God, an exceedingly great army. Sinners! you have risen from your tombs; the pillars of heaven are reeling; the sky is moving to and fro; the sun, the eye of this great world, is rolling like a maniac’s, and glaring with dismay. The moon that long has cheered the night now makes the darkness terrible, for she is turned into a clot of blood. Portents, and signs, and wonders surpassing one’s imagination, make the heavens shake, and make men’s hearts quake within them. Suddenly upon a cloud there comes one like to the Son of Man. Sinners! picture your astonishment and your wonder when you see him. Where are you, Voltaire? You said, “I will crush the wretch.” Come and crush him now! “No” Voltaire says, “he is not the man I thought he was.” Oh how will he wonder when he really finds out who Christ is! Now, Judas, come and give him a traitor’s kiss! “Ah! no,” he says, “I did not know who I kissed: I thought I only kissed the son of Mary, but lo! he is the everlasting God.” Now, you kings and princes, who stood up and took counsel together against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, “Let us break his bands asunder, and cast his cords from us!” Come now, take counsel once more; rebel against him now! Oh! can you picture the astonishment, the wonder the dismay, when careless, godless infidels and Socinians really find out who Christ is? “Oh!” they will say, “this is wonderful; I did not think he was at all like this;” while Christ shall say to them, “you thought that I was altogether like as yourselves; but I am no such thing; I am come in all my Father’s glory to judge the quick and dead.”

20. Pharaoh led his hosts into the midst of the Red Sea. The path was dry and rippled, and on either side stood like a wall of alabaster the clear white water stiff as with the breath of frost, consolidated into marble. There it stood. Can you guess the astonishment and dismay of the hosts of Pharaoh, when they saw those walls of water about to close upon them? “Behold, you despisers, and wonder, and perish!” Such will be your astonishment, when Christ, whom you have despised today—Christ, whom you did not want to be your Saviour—Christ whose Bible you left unread, whose Sabbath you despised—Christ, whose gospel you rejected, shall come in the glory of his Father, and all his holy angels with him. Indeed, then truly you will “behold, and wonder, and perish,” and you shall say, “His name is Wonderful.”

21. But perhaps, the most wonderful part of the day of judgment is this, do you see all the horrors there—the black darkness, the horrible night, the clashing comets, the pale stars, sickly and wan, falling like figs from the fig tree? Do you hear the cry, “Rocks, hide us, mountains, fall on us?” “Every battle of the warrior is with confused noise;” but there never was a battle like this. This is with fire and smoke indeed. But do you see there? All is peaceful all serene and quiet. The myriads of the redeemed, are they shrieking, crying, wailing? No; see them! They are gathering—gathering around the throne. That very throne that seems to scatter, as with a hundred hands, death and destruction on the wicked, becomes the sun of light and happiness to all believers. Do you see them coming robed in white, with their bright wings? while gathering around him they veil their faces. Do you hear them cry, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts, for you were slain, and you have risen from the dead; worthy are you to live and reign, when death itself is dead?” Do you hear them? It is all song, and no shriek. Do you see them? It is all joy, and no terror. His name to them is Wonderful; but it is the wonder of admiration, the wonder of ecstasy, the wonder of affection, and not the wonder of horror and dismay. Saints of the Lord! you shall know the wonders of his name, when you shall see him as he is, and shall be like him in the day of his appearing. Oh! my enraptured spirit, you shall bear your part in your Redeemer’s triumph, unworthy though you are, the chief of sinners, and less than the least of saints. Your eye shall see him and not another; “I know that my Redeemer lives, and when he shall stand in the latter day upon the earth, though worms devour this body, yet in my flesh I shall see God.” Oh! make yourselves ready, you virgins! Behold the bridegroom comes. Arise and trim your lamps, and go out to meet him. He comes—he comes—he comes; and when he comes, you shall well say of him as you meet him with joy, “Your name is called Wonderful. All hail! all hail! all hail!”

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).

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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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