3541. A Memorable Interview

A Sermon Published On Thursday, December 7, 1916.

Then he says to Thomas, “Reach your finger here, and behold my hands; and reach your hand here, and thrust it into my side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing.” And Thomas answered, and said to him, “My Lord and my God.” {Joh 20:27,28}

For other sermons on this text:

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2061, “Evidence of Our Lord’s Wounds, The” 2062}

   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3541, “Memorable Interview, A” 3543}

   Exposition on Joh 20:11-29 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2475, “My Garden—His Garden” 2476 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Joh 20:18-31 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3541, “Memorable Interview, A” 3543 @@ "Exposition"}

   Exposition on Joh 20:19-31 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2721, “Faith Without Sight” 2722 @@ "Exposition"}

   {See Spurgeon_SermonTexts "Joh 20:28"}

1. All of us are apt to fall into a wrong state of heart, not because we are unconverted, nor even because we are false to Christ, but simply because of our natural infirmity. As long as we are in this body, exposed to trial and temptation, we shall be prone to turn aside like a broken bow. Thomas was a true-hearted follower of Jesus. He loved his Master. It had been a severe shock to his sensitive disposition and his thoughtful mind to see his Master betrayed, arraigned, scourged, crucified, dead, and buried. He could not at once rally from the agitation it caused him, or think it possible that Jesus could have risen from the dead. Pondering the matter scrupulously, it seemed to him to involve too great a miracle to be credited—far beyond anything to be expected. He would require, he said, very clear and satisfactory proofs before he would believe it. In the same way, each one of us has our characteristic faults. We may not be too thoughtful, like Thomas; we may, perhaps, be too thoughtless, and that is quite as mischievous. Even our pleasing qualities which adorn us as virtues may become our temptations. The best point about us, just as sound judgment was in the case of Thomas, may become the very snare that entangles us. Let no man judge his fellow. Above all, let no man exalt himself. He who is in his best state today may be in spiritual poverty tomorrow. He who rejoices in God and walks in holy consistency may, before another sun has risen—few though the hours of interval may be—have felt his feet slide from under him, and so fallen from his steadfastness as to have dishonoured his God, and pierced himself through with many sorrows.

2. May God grant that our meditation may be for the comfort of some present, while we proceed to notice the Master and the servant—Jesus and Thomas—closely looking at the actions of each of them.

3. I. Our first point is:—LET THE MASTER FIRST ENGAGE OUR ATTENTION—THE MASTER IN THE PRESENCE OF AN UNBELIEVING DISCIPLE WHO HAS TREATED HIM WITH GREAT PRESUMPTION AND RASHNESS.

4. How exquisitely touching is his gentleness! Does he upbraid Thomas? Is there indignation in his tone? Is there petulance in his chiding? Does he exclaim, “How dare you doubt that I am alive?” Or does he turn on him with some rough sentence, asking, “Where does this impertinence come from that you should speak of putting your finger into my wounds, and thrusting your hand into my side? Unworthy servant, from this moment I disown you for having spoken so disrespectfully of your Lord and Master.” No, far from it. He rather takes Thomas on his own ground; considers his infirmities, and meets them precisely as they are, without a single word of rebuke until the close, and even then he puts it very lovingly. The whole conversation was indeed a rebuke, but so veiled with love that Thomas could scarcely think it was so. He speaks to him as if nothing had occurred to give any reason of offence, or by his presumption to cause any estrangement.

5. Dwell for a moment on the mercy which our Lord must have shown: and the blessed patience he must have exercised, to bear like this with Thomas. Ought he not to have known from the Old Testament that the Christ would rise from the dead? Had he not been reminded time and again by his Master of the prophecies which spoke concerning the death of Christ, and the glory that should follow? Had he not heard the Master himself frequently say that the third day he would rise again? He must have been present with the other disciples when they thought over what he said, and said to each other, “What does he mean by this, that he shall suffer and that he shall rise?” And had he not just before seen the women and conferred with the disciples who testified that they had found an empty tomb, that they had been told by angels that Jesus had risen—yes, more; that when they were sitting together Jesus had appeared in their midst? Yet, so strong was his unbelief, that he puts his own judgment against their assertion of fact, against the inspired Scriptures, against the thrilling words that fell from the Master’s own lips, against the united, concurrent acknowledgment of all the brethren. And do you not think, brethren, that our wilfulness is sometimes as irrational and unwarranted as his? We harbour doubts in the teeth of accumulated evidences, and then credit ourselves with being wise and right, while we disparage all others as being foolish and wrong. The principle which lies at the root of all the heresies and the schisms that rend and divide the Church is just that self-confidence which will not let us yield, even though better men than ourselves—yes, though the united consent of the whole Church should bear testimony to a fact or a truth to which we demur. Through some lack of information or through some flaw of judgment, we judge differently from our companions; and immediately our self-approbation is unyielding, and our conduct is intolerant. So it was a great scandal to put himself in opposition to the Master, in opposition to the Scripture, and in opposition to all his fellow servants. Still, our Lord Jesus Christ forbears to utter a word of denunciation. He just says, “Reach your finger here and behold my hands; and reach your hand here and thrust it into my side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing.” He could not have spoken softer words. He responds without reproach. Such lovingkindness and tender mercy as David was accustomed to sing of old, did our blest Redeemer show.

6. Another reason for admiring our Lord’s great patience with Thomas is that he had dared to dictate the terms on which he would believe, and he had selected such terms as must have been most offensive had Jesus Christ been of a lofty, imperious, uncondescending spirit. Who is Thomas that he should put his hands into those wounds so recently healed; that side pierced by the soldier’s spear? Is Thomas to make a road again to that sacred heart? Strange that he should have asked for so mysterious a sign to strengthen his faith! What! was there no other way of believing in his Lord but that he must pass his finger and his hand into the very wounds of that blessed body? Ah! see how presumptuous the servant is; see, also, how sympathizing the Master is! Was it not asking too much—far too much? Such a prayer ought not to have come from a disciple who had never forsaken his Master, much less from Thomas, who had fled with the rest, and had been absent when the disciples had gathered together and seen the Master. But yet Jesus is so forbearing towards him. I do not know whether to wonder more at the impertinence of the servants, or the clemency of the Master. Let us apply the lesson to ourselves. Have we during the past week fallen into an exceptional state of gross unbelief? Have we been thinking harsh thoughts of God? Has some sin suspended our communion with our Saviour? Are we now cold at heart and devoid of spiritual emotion? Do we feel quite unworthy to draw near to him who loved us with so great a love? Do not be desponding. The God of all patience will not desert you. The love which our Lord Jesus Christ has for his people is so great that he passes by their transgression, iniquity, and sin. No; there is no anger on his part to separate you from your Lord. Behold! he comes over the mountains of your sins; he leaps over the hills of your follies. Since he so graciously comes to you, will you not gladly come to him? Do not think for a moment that he will frown or repulse you. He will not remind you of your cold prayers, your neglected closet, your unread Bible, nor will he chide you for missing occasions for fellowship; but he will receive you graciously and love you freely, and grant you just what you need at this moment. Please notice the Master’s patience. Come to him, dear child of his, you beloved disciple of his, and have fellowship with him now.

7. While we are speaking of the Master, I should next like to call your attention to the Master’s great care. He had been to see his disciples once; he had stood in their midst, and said, “Peace be to you”; he had given them their commission, had breathed on them, and given them the Holy Spirit. But there was an absent one. Well, “What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he loses one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go and seek after the one that has gone astray?” There was one away, and Jesus must come again. There must be the same greeting of peace; there must be the same blessing bestowed again, for Thomas must not be left out in the distribution of spiritual gifts. Thomas ought to have sought after Christ, especially after having been absent on the first occasion when he visited them. He surely ought to have said, “My Master came to me and I was not there; I will, therefore, seek him, no matter where he may be, and I will tell him how I regret that I should have missed the golden opportunity of his presence.” But, beloved, Thomas did not seek his Master. In this he was just like to us. It is anticipating grace, brethren—it is grace that is beforehand with us—even with our faint desires, which comes to us from Jesus Christ. Oh! how our Lord outruns us! Our sense of need is not so swift of foot as his perception of our need. Long before we know we need him, he understands that we do require him, and he comes to us to bless us. It was for one he came, and for that one who did not seek him. He was found by one who did not seek him. You might have thought that Thomas would have been just as well left alone for a little while. We should have said, “Well, if he is so obstinate as to lay down such conditions, let him cool down for a bit; let him just stay for a while in the cold until he is willing to come in at the door, and not to make conditions that he must come in at the window, or by some way of his own. So let him wait, for beggars ought not to be choosers, nor should impertinent disciples he tolerated.” Yes, but Jesus will tolerate what we will not, and he will put up with us when we cannot put up with our brethren. We do not have half so much to bear with from them as he has from us. Though Thomas might have been left like this, and deserved to have been left, yet Jesus came to him because he knew that his coming to him would be much better than letting him stay away.

8. So, disciple, do not say to yourself, “I cannot come to the table tonight, I do not feel fit; I shall not strive after fellowship with Christ; I do not feel as if my soul could enjoy it.” No, but it will do you no good to stay away. Will you turn away from the Master? Will you refuse the symbols of his death? Do not be so rash and inconsiderate, I entreat you. Why should he not come to you? Before that bread is broken, you may have experienced a delightful change in the state of your heart, and with pleasing surprise you may be crying out, like Thomas, “My Lord and my God.” And, oh! is it not blessed to think that Christ does not stay away until his disciples invite him? He does not wait for them to get ready for him. No, he comes to them and meets them, and finds them even before they have sought him. If you are in the mood of Thomas, perhaps you may be insisting on some signs and wonders, as he did. Know that the Master can give you his own sign, unfold his own wonder, and bestow on you such a blessing that your heart shall scarcely have room enough to receive it. His tenderness and his care baffle all our thoughts and expectations.

9. Though we have already observed it, linger, I beseech you, on the Master’s matchless condescension. Behold the Lord of life, who had overcome the sharpness of death, and passed out of the portals of the tomb in triumph, having spoiled principalities and powers, and overthrown sin, death, and hell; the Son of God, at whose resurrection angels had attended, glad to wait as servants on his royalty, that Lord—what do you think? He needed to unrobe himself to gratify a disobedient, unbelieving disciple—yes, he must strip himself. It would not be enough to show his hands—that would be kindness; but those hands must be touched, and those wounds themselves must be probed by a finger all too curious. It would have been profane, had it not been for the divine compassion that allowed it. The way into his heart must be revealed. Well, well, but he did it. Angels must have been shocked when they heard a man say, “I will not believe unless he bares his side to me”—still, he did it. Yes, just before he died, you will remember how he laid aside his garments, and took a towel and girded himself, and washed his disciples’ feet. Now that he is risen from the dead, he is the same Christ; and if he condescended then to wash his disciples’ feet, he will condescend now to bear with a disciple’s bad manners, and will even meet him in his infirmities. If they cannot be healed without a sight of his wounded person, he shall gaze on his side again. He will do anything for the love of his people. There is no kindness too costly for Christ to show. Now then, you who, while eagerly longing for his company, hide your face, and blush for very shame, do you say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof; my heart is not worthy to receive you as a guest?” It is true, you are not worthy; neither was Thomas. Yet you shall have his favour, and rejoice in the light of his countenance, if you sigh and cry for it. Doubtless you have been very far, during the week, from what you yourself wish you had been; nevertheless, “He will blot out your iniquities like a cloud, and your transgressions like a thick cloud.” Your old friend may have passed you in the street and did not recognise you, because you are now so poor, but Jesus knows you. No one, perhaps, knows the deprivations you have had to put up with, poor Christian. You imagine you are despised and neglected by everyone—perhaps it may be your imagination, yet it is cutting to the heart even to think that your Christian brethren look down on you. But Jesus never looks down contemptuously on his people. He condescends to stand on their platform, and put himself on a level with them with a sacred familiarity suited to their case. Very often he draws most near with most engaging smiles to those who are in the saddest plight. This is how Jesus is accustomed to act. He never speaks proudly and loftily. His condescension to his children, like his watchfulness over them, is unvarying.

10. Once more, the Master’s bounty challenges our admiration and our confidence. When Thomas had received what he asked for, you might easily have conjectured that he would be put down in the second class of disciples. Instead of that, however, he was well commended in the apostleship, and though not present when Jesus breathed on them, and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” yet on the Day of Pentecost Thomas received the same cloven tongue and the same power as the rest. Indeed, we have reason to believe that Thomas became as earnest an apostle, as faithful a witness, and as blessed a martyr of the faith of Christ, as either Peter or James. The Master will not stint his goodness because we once and a while betray our baseness. No, beloved; he will give us according to our ability to receive. If we are not able to receive today, he will enlarge our desires and expand our capacities, until tomorrow we may be able to receive from his fulness, and grace for grace. Come, then, you hungry, starving souls, you believers who are coming near to penury and spiritual bankruptcy, draw near in the spirit of love to Christ, who is as certainly present in this place with us as he was with them in that room where the eleven were gathered. Draw near in spirit and in truth to him, and your souls shall be enriched to your own profit and to the glory of God.

11. II. And now I have a few words to say about:—THE SERVANT.

12. Thomas, struck with the Master’s knowledge of what had been going on in his heart, and overwhelmed with the manifestation of the Master’s presence and his power, exclaimed, “My Lord and my God.” These five words are full of meaning. Let me endeavour to interpret them for you. First, they were an expression of faith. Thomas now affirms the faith which he had previously disclaimed. “I will not believe,” he said, “unless—unless—unless.” Now he believes a great deal more than some of the other disciples did; so he openly affirms it. He was the first divine who ever taught the deity of Christ from his wounds. Nor has every divine since then been able to see the deity of Christ in his wounded humanity risen from the dead. But Thomas did this. He declared the proper humanity of Christ when he touched him, and he declared his proper deity when he affirmed him to be both Lord and God. Thomas was slow in arriving at facts, but he had a comprehensive mind, and when he did arrive at a conviction he grasped it thoroughly in all its bearings. Peter would be impetuous, and leap to a conclusion, but Thomas must consider the circumstances, weigh the testimony, try, judge, and prove the evidences before he acknowledged a truth. When his judgment yielded assent he was firm; there was no shaking, he understood the truth he adhered to better than others. Delightful in the ear of Christ, my brethren, is the expression of our faith. Let none of us hesitate to go over in our minds our affirmation of faith in him “who lives and was dead, and is alive, for evermore.” It well becomes us sometimes to perform what the Catholics call “acts of faith.” I mean in holy contemplation and quiet meditation, to declare before the Lord that we believe in the facts that are made known to us, and the doctrines that have been delivered to us. We believe that Jesus is the Son of God—for ever be his name adored; that he is self-existent, and full of power and glory; we believe that he laid aside that glory, and became a man in the likeness of sinful flesh; that he did not disdain to sleep on his virgin mother’s breast. He lived a life of holiness, and died a death of scorn and ignominy; he slept in the tomb, and the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, he sits at the right hand of God, even the Father; he reigns over all things for his people, having power over all flesh that he may give eternal life to as many as the Father has given him; he shall shortly come to judge the quick and the dead; he shall reign among the sons of men; he shall sit on the throne of his father David; prayer also shall be made for him continually, and he shall be praised daily.

13. The short but expressive affirmation of faith which Thomas made suggests to me this word of counsel. We should frequently make before God a declaration of our faith in the deity of our Lord Christ, and in all the glories which surround his character. Let this be done vocally when you can—or otherwise mentally—for the exercise is profitable. But these words. “My Lord and my God,” sound a little different to me from a simple affirmation of faith. It was, as someone has said, like the cry of a dove that at last had found its mate. Poor Thomas. He doubted his Master, but he wanted him, and could not be happy without him. Now he has come flying back, and he has found him, and he seems to put his head, as it were, into the bosom of his Master, and to begin to weep and sigh like a poor child who has lost his mother in the streets of London, and, when he is brought back again, cannot say anything else but “My mother, and my mother, and my mother,” and feels so happy to think he has found again the dear bosom on which to rest. So Thomas seems to say, “I have found you, my Master, my Lord, and my God.” He seems to humble himself, as though he would say, “How could I doubt you? Where have I been? What have I been thinking of? What has my obstinate mind driven me to? What did I say? What did I ask? How could I be so impertinent? My Lord and my God! You have forgiven it all, and in your presence I seem to moan it out in those few words. Your silly servant, your foolish servant, but you, my blessed Master, my condescending Master, my Lord and my God!” Well now, beloved, there is something very sweet in this. Though I called it moaning, yet there is much music in it. Come now, you who have wandered, come and tell Christ at the table about it. Come and tell him that you are grieved, and that you are not so grieved as you ought to be. Tell him you are sorry that you should not have lived with him day by day. Your self-reproach may well be keen.

   Wretch that I am to wander thus

   In search of vain delights.

Penitently bewail before him that you should have been so bewitched as to cleave to things below, and let your God, your Saviour, go. Intense feeling commonly finds expression in few words. Silence is sometimes more stirring than speech. “My Lord and my God” is the breathing of a contrite heart relieved in having found the grace it needs.

14. The exclamation, however “My Lord and my God,” is the outcome of more than one emotion. If it involved a pang, it included an intense pleasure. Was it not a joyful astonishment which begot those words? It was so sweet to Thomas that he hardly thought his fellow disciples would be able to appreciate so great a wonder. It was too much for him, so he addresses himself to the Master, as if he alone, being the greatest marvel, could sympathize with him. “I marvel!” he seemed to say. “I could not have believed it. I saw the traitor kiss your cheek. I saw you dragged off with staves and lanterns to that lion’s den. I saw you when you were in Pilate’s hall, tried and mocked. I saw you when you were fastened to the tree; I stood there, and I saw you bleed and die. I saw your body taken down and wrapped in spices; and is it the same, the very same? Oh! yes; I recognise you. I know those hands. I took those loaves from them when the thousands were fed in Galilee. I know that face; very many a time I have looked with beaming eye on that loving countenance of yours. I know that side; it is the same side I saw the soldier pierce, and I know it. It is the same; it is you, you, you, the risen Christ! Oh! wonder of wonders! I can say no less; I can say no more. ‘My Lord and my God.’” Well now, holy wonder, beloved, is no lowly kind of worship; it is, perhaps, no lowly part of the worship of heaven. I like that verse we sing:—

   Then let me mount the starry way,

   To the bright worlds of endless day;

   And sing with rapture and surprise,

   Thy lovingkindness in the skies.

15. Will it not be a surprise when we get there? Though, indeed, we shall see nothing in heaven but what we have been told about on earth for it will be just such a heaven as God has told us about, yet we shall say that the half was not told us because we did not understand what we heard, and could not enter into the meaning of deep spiritual revelations. Oh! what astonishment might seize us now if we could really grip the thought, and I hope we shall! “Jesus has loved, and lived, and died for me, and now he lives and pleads for me.” Oh! believer, get to see Christ now with the optics of your mind; see him now exalted in the highest heavens, though once rejected by men, and as with astonishment you behold the ineffable splendour of that starry throne, surrounded by ten thousand times ten thousand of the chariots of God, and cohorts of messengers of fire, all waiting to obey his sovereign will; as you see the Man whose head was once crowned with thorns, from the highest seat that heaven affords claiming eternal sovereignty, bow your head in devout astonishment, fall at his feet, and, giving tongue to your rapture, exclaim, “My Lord and my God.”

16. And did not Thomas, by such an exclamation as this, renew his personal relationship to Christ, and his positive consecration to his service? “My Lord,” he says, “you are, and I am your servant; my God, from now on you are, and I am your worshipper as long as I live.” Beloved, years ago; some of us were first espoused to Christ spiritually. Gladly I would remember those blessed hours when my young heart went out after him, and his blessed heart of love was revealed to me. We ought not to forget those times, for he does not forget them. He says to Israel, “I remember you, the kindness of your youth, and the love of your espousals.” With what enthusiasm we sang:—

   ’Tis done—the great transaction’s done,

      I am my Lord’s, and he is mine;

   He drew me, and I followed on,

      Glad to obey the voice Divine.

Perhaps many years have passed over you since then, but whether they have been many or few, I am sure we have not been invariably true to those vows and resolutions; our memory of him has not been equal to his mindfulness of us. Now, if the Lord should come to you afresh, and give you a choice time of fellowship with him, would it not be a most suitable response to give yourself up to him afresh? Should we not often do this? Would not the freshness of close fellowship be particularly suitable for the renewal of our covenant with our Lord, and of our consecration of ourselves to his service? On that night you were baptised, you could sing sincerely:

   High heaven which heard the solemn vow,

      That vow renewed shall daily hear;

   Till in life’s latest hour I bow,

      And bless in death a bond so dear.

17. Oh! that God’s Holy Spirit would enable you now to say in your soul, “Jesus, the despised of men, whom the great ones of this world do not know, in whose blessed Person and redemptive work they will not believe, I take you, my Master; I acknowledge you to be my Lord; your people shall be my people; your God and Father shall be my God; your blood shall be my confidence, and your law my rule; your love shall constrain my love; your life shall be my example; your glory shall be the one object for which I strive; you, oh Christ, are ‘my Lord and my God.’” So your faith shall abound and all your graces flourish.

18. Do I hear some timid voice from this congregation whispering a complaint? “Ah! there is nothing for me; he is speaking to the disciples. When the doors are shut, I am shut outside as a stranger. There is nothing for me; I am a sinner.” Oh! but I tell you, if you will only knock, Jesus Christ will come outside to you. The doors are not shut to keep out poor sinners from the presence of the Saviour. Do you want Jesus to reveal himself to you? Exalted in the highest heavens, he looks down on you now. His voice is calling you, “Come to me, and I will give you rest.” Oh! poor sinner, if you cannot put your finger into the print of the nails, yet believe that Jesus died; then trust him and rely on his merits. Cast yourself flat at his feet. Sustain yourself on his passion and atonement, and you shall be saved—saved now—saved without a moment’s delay. So shall all these other joys be yours, for you, too, shall be numbered with the family, and you shall feast on the children’s food, and be partakers of all the privileges of the sons and daughters of the Lord God Almighty.

Exposition By C. H. Spurgeon {Joh 20:18-31}

18. Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things to her.

She was a true woman—one whom they had known well enough to be quite able to trust her, and her witness ought to have been believed, but there were some who doubted.

19. Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them, “Peace be to you.”

How he came there we do not know, but doors cannot shut him out. Is there any door between my soul and Christ tonight then? Have I shut myself up in the chamber of doubt, despondency, unbelief? He can come to me. While the doors are still shut, he can appear within my spirit, and say, “Peace be to you.” Oh! that he would do so! Do we not cry to him to come and breathe peace on us?

20. And so when he had said, he showed them his hands and his side.

That they might be sure it was he—the same who had died by crucifixion—so that they might see how intimate he was with them—familiar—that his scarcely healed wounds should be seen by them.

20. Then the disciples were glad, when they saw the Lord.

Oh! for such a sight! There is a depth of gladness in a risen Christ. Those wounds preach peace and joy.

21-23. Then Jesus said to them again. “Peace be to you: just as my Father has sent me, even so I send you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are remitted to them; and if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Thus Jesus Christ supported and made for ever true the preaching of his word. Do we declare that the sins of penitents are remitted? They are remitted. Are we, in his name, told to declare that “he who does not believe shall be condemned”? So it shall be. He will make the word which is uttered to be true. We shall not speak without our Master making the utterance of his word to be a matter of fact.

24. But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.

Perhaps he lived a long way off, or else, being rather slow, he had delayed, doubting, and fearing, and questioning, and he had not got there in time; anyway, he was not there. “Do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together as the manner of some is,” for it will be a loss to you, as it was to him.

25. The other disciples therefore said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Dogged, obstinate unbelief. Some have said he was a large-hearted man, who investigated truth. I do not see it. He had not gone to the tomb, like Peter and John, to look at the grave-clothes, and to discover that Christ was not there. He does not appear to have investigated the testimony of Mary Magdalene and of the others. He was just as narrow-minded as he very well could be, as I believe modern doubters are, with all their boast of their wonderful thoughtfulness and liberality. We have only their own opinion, I am sure, on that matter; and when a man sounds his own trumpet, there is not much in it.

26, 27. And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas was with them: then Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, “Peace be to you.” Then he said to Thomas,

For our Lord has a way of making personal application of his word. He looks after the sheep that is sick, and separates it from the flock, so that he may deal with it in his wisdom. “Then he says to Thomas.”

27, 28. “Reach your finger here, and behold my hands; and reach your hand here, and thrust it into my side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing.” And Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God.”

And whether Thomas did put his finger into the print of his nails or not, we cannot tell. Everyone may think as he likes about that. He may have done so, or he may not, but this one thing happened, that he “answered and said to him, ‘My Lord and my God.’” He made a splendid leap from the depths of doubt to the firm rock of confidence. With two blessed “mys” he seems to grasp Christ with both hands, and in two grand words he pictures him, “My Lord and my God.”

29. Jesus says to him, “Thomas, because you have seen me, you have believed: blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed.”

That is the faith—the true faith—that needs no buttressing and props, but believes the testimony of God.

30, 31. And Jesus truly did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book: but these have been written, so that you might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God: and that believing you might have life through his name.

May God grant that the object of writing the New Testament may be fulfilled in each one of us.

Good Tidings of Great Joy. Christ’s Incarnation the Foundation of Christianity. “Central Truth Series.” Vol. I. Cloth boards, 1s.

Till He Come. Communion Meditations and Addresses. By C. H. Spurgeon. Cloth gilt, 2s. 6d.; leather, 7s. 6d.

Types and Emblems: A Collection of Sermons preached on the Lord’s Day and Thursday Evenings at the Metropolitan Tabernacle. By C. H. Spurgeon. 2s. 6d.

Trumpet Calls to Christian Energy: A Second Series of Mr. Spurgeon’s Lord’s Day and Thursday Evening Sermons. 2s. 6d.

Prayer Made Easy. By E. B. WILSON. With Foreword by the Bishop of Durham. Many Christians are conscious of the weakness of their devotions. They yearn to pray. They yearn to possess the praying spirit. For all such this little book has been written. Its counsels are invaluable. Cloth boards, 1/-, by post, 1/2.

Daily, A Help To Family Prayer. By CHARLES F. HARFORD. There are many households where a help in the family worship would be greatly appreciated. This is just the volume for the purpose—direct, concise, explicit. Cloth bound, 2/-post free.

Abide With Us. By CONSTANCE LADY COOTE. A volume of Family Prayers for Daily Use and for Special Occasions. The author throughout preserves a deep sense of reverence, and has the sympathetic touch of an inspired pen. This little work should be of immeasurable use in the family circle. In cloth boards, 2/6 post free. Special edition in French morocco, 3/6 post free.