God

Knowing God. — We have heard also of Juggernauth, and of the thousand and millions of gods of Hindustan, but we have no acquaintance with them. I have felt thankful when I have seen likenesses of Krishna and Siva that they were no relations of mine. There is one god with an elephant’s head, and another god with a cat’s head: I am delighted to think that I never was on speaking terms with such monsters, and could never call them mine. If they be gods to others they are not so to us: we know them not, their names we despise, and their pretensions we detest. But, brethren, we know that we know our God.

For His Son’s Sake. — There has been a war, and a wounded soldier comes home, and he goes to the house of a father and mother who have a son out in the army, and he inquires, “Does so-and-so live here? “” Yes.” “Can I see him?” “Yes.” “I have a letter from your son, whom I left in the army, he was my dear comrade.” “Are you sure you have such a letter?” The man looks disreputable, and his garments are torn, and he is evidently very poor, but he replies, “Yes, I have a letter from your son.” He puts his hands into his pockets, and he cannot find it. The master of the house is angry, and says, “It is of no use your coming here with this tale, you are deceiving me.” He fumbles still in his pockets, and at last he brings it out. Yes, there is the token, the father knows the handwriting of his dear boy. The letter says, “Father, this is a choice companion of mine, and I want you, when he reaches home, to treat him kindly for my sake. Tell mother that any thing she does for him shall be the same as if she had done it to her own boy.” See how well he is received at sight of that token, and even so when we present the blood-mark, we say to the Lord, “There is the token that we are Jesus’ friends,” and the Lord does not look at the rags in which our poor nature is arrayed, but he looks at the token of his own Son’s blood and accepts us for his sake. “What surer and more suggestive token could we desire? When cleansed in the blood of Jesus we are comely with his comeliness, and dear to the heart of God for his Son’s sake.

The Love of God. — In the French Revolution, there was a young man condemned to the guillotine, and shut up in one of the prisons. He was greatly loved by many, but there was one who loved him more than all put together. How know we this? It was his own father; and the love he bore his son was proved in this way: when the lists were called, the father, whose name was exactly the same as his son’s, answered to the name, and the father rode in the gloomy tumbril out to the place of execution, and his head rolled beneath the axe in stead of his son’s, a victim to mighty love. See here an image of the love of Christ to sinners; for thus Jesus died for the ungodly, viewed as such. If they had not been ungodly, neither they nor he had needed to have died; if they had not sinned, there would have been no need for a suffering Savior, but Jesus proved his boundless love “in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Your name was in the condemned list, my fellow-sinner, but, if you believe in Jesus, you shall find that your name is there no longer, for Christ’s name is put in your stead, and you shall learn that he suffered for you, the just for the unjust, that he might bring you to God. Is not this the greatest wonder of divine love, that it should be set upon us as sinners? I can understand God’s loving reformed sinners, and repenting sinners; but here is the glory of it, “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners — yet sinners! — Christ died for us.”

God Like a Mother. — It little matters where you seek the Lord. He will be sure to see you; and even if it be in the crowded street of Cheapside of Cornhill, if your soul is in prayer, all the din of noisy London cannot stop the prayer from reaching the ear of God. You know, mothers, how quick you are of a night to hear your children if they are ill. If you had a nurse, she might slumber on; but as for you, with little Jane up stairs sick, if you do fall asleep, the faintest noise awakes you; yet you are not one-half so wakeful as God is; for he neither slumbers nor sleeps. When your heart begins to say, “My God, my God, I would be reconciled; my Lord, I would be cleansed,” the Lord is waiting to be gracious. Before you call, God hears you, for he is a God ready to pardon.

A Father’s Heart. — When King Henry II., in the ages gone by, was provoked to take up arms against his ungrateful and rebellious son, he besieged him in one of the French towns, and the son, being near unto death, desired to see his father and confess his wrongdoing; but the stern old sire refused to look the rebel in the face. The young man, being sorely troubled in his conscience, said to those about him, “I am dying; take me from my bed, and let me lie in sackcloth and ashes, in token of my sorrow for my ingratitude to my father.” Thus he died, and when the tidings came to the old man outside the walls, that his boy had died in ashes, repentant for his rebellion, he threw himself upon the earth, like another David, and said, “Would God I had died for him.” The thought of his boy’s broken heart touched the heart of the father. If ye, being evil, are overcome by your children’s tears, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven find in your bemoanings and confessions an argument for the display of his pardoning love through Christ Jesus our Lord.

God Ever Present. — When Her Majesty, some months ago, heard of the desolation which had been caused by an accident in the pits, her tender heart hastened to the relief of the widow and the fatherless, but at the moment of the calamity she was not on the spot in person; she could not be in the pit to hear the groans and sustain the faith of the dying, nay she could not be in the cottage to mark the tear of the widow and to cheer her with heavenly promises; but our God is on the spot where calamity occurs, for in him we live and move and have our being. He is the greatest of comforters, and he is also the most approachable. He is “a very present help in time of trouble.”

God’s Tenderness. — When the King of Navarre was fighting for his throne, the writer who hymns the battle, says —

i( He looked upon the foemen, and his glance was stern and

high; He looked upon his people, and the tear was in his eye.”

And when he saw some of the French in arms against him —

“Then out spoke gentle Henry, No Frenchman is my foe, Down, down, with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.”

The king had an eye to his people even when they were in rebellion against him, and he had a different thought towards them from what he had towards others. “Let them go,” he seemed to say, “they are my people.” So, mark you, in the great battles and strifes of this world, when God lets loose the dread artillery of heaven, his glance is stem upon his enemies, but the tear is in his eye towards his people. He is always tender towards them. “Spare my people,” saith he, and the angels interpose lest these chosen ones should dash their feet against a stone.

Responsibility to God. — That was grand of Latimer, when he preached before Henry VIII. He had greatly displeased his majesty by his boldness in a sermon preached before the king, and was ordered to preach again on the following Sabbath, and to make an apology for the of fence he had given. After reading his text, the bishop thus began his sermon: “Hugh Latimer, dost thou know before whom thou art this day to speak? To the high and mighty monarch, the king’s most excellent majesty, who can take away thy life if thou offendest; therefore, take heed that thou speakest not a word that may displease. But then consider well, Hugh, does thou not know from whence thou cornest — upon whose message thou art sent? Even by the great and mighty God, who is all-present, and who beholdeth all thy ways, and who is able to cast thy soul into hell! Therefore, take care that thou deliverest thy message faithfully.”

God’s Call. — Standing one day in the court-house, some witness was required, I forget his name; it may have been Brown, for instance; in one moment the name was announced, “Brown, Samuel Brown,” By and by twenty others take up the cry, “Samuel Brown, Samuel Brown.” There was seen a man pushing his way through. “Make room,” said he, “make room, his honor calls me,” and tho there were many in his path, they gave way, because his being called was a sufficient command for them, not to hinder him, but to let him come. And now, soul, if thou be a willing sinner, who why name is not mentioned — if thou be a willing sinner, thou art as truly called as tho thou wert called by name, and therefore push through thy fears. Make room, and come; they that would stop thee are cowards. He has said “Let him come,” and they cannot keep you back; Jehovah has said, “Let him come,” and it is yours now to say, “I will come.” There is nothing that shall hinder me, I will push through everything and

“To the gracious King approach,
Whose sceptre mercy gives.”

God Mare Careful Than a Mother. — Look at the mother, how careful she is. If her child have a little cough, she notices it: the slightest weakness is sure to be observed. She has watched all its motions anxiously, to see whether it walked right, whether all its limbs were sound, and whether it had the use of all its powers in perfection; but she has never thought of numbering the hairs of her child’s head, and the absence of one or two of them would give her no great concern. But our God is more careful of us, even than a mother with her child — so careful that he numbers the hairs of our head. How safe are we, then, beneath the hand of God!

Helpless Without God. — I find faith just the easiest thing in the world when there is nothing to believe; but when I have room and exercise for my faith, then I do not find I have so much strength to accomplish it. Talking one day with a countryman, he used this figure: “In the middle of winter I sometimes think how well I could mow; and in early spring I think, oh! how I would like to reap; I feel just ready for it; but when mowing time comes, and when reaping time comes, I find I have not strength to spare.” So when you have no troubles, couldn’t you mow them down at once? When you have no work to do, couldn’t you do it? But when work and trouble come you find how difficult it is. Many Christians are like the stag, who talked to itself, and said, “Why should I run away from the dogs? Look what a fine pair of horns I’ve got, and look what heels I’ve got, too; I might do these hounds some mischief. Why not let me stand and show them what I can do with my antlers? I can keep off any quantity of dogs.” No sooner did the dogs bark, than off the stag went. So with us. “Let sin arise,” we say, “we will soon rip it up, and destroy it; let trouble come, we will soon get over it; but when sin and trouble come, we then find what our weakness is. Then we have to cry for the help of the Spirit; and through him we can do all things, tho without him we can do nothing at all.

Depth of a Father’s Love. — There was a little boy at the corner of the table, and his father asked him, “Why does your father love you, John?” Said the dear little lad, very prettily, “Because I’m a good boy.” “Yes,” said the father, “he would not love you if you were not a good boy.” I turned to the good father and remarked that I was not quite sure ajjout the truth of the last remark, for I believed he would love him if he were ever so bad. “Well,” he said, “I think I should.” And said a minister at the table, “I had an instance of that yesterday. I stepped into the house of a woman who had a son transported for life, and she was as full of her son Richard as if he had been prime minister, or had been her most faithful and dutiful son.”

God Our Deliverer. — If God does not deliver his servants at one time as well as another, he has not kept his promise. For a man of truth is always true, and a promise once given always stands. A promise cannot be broken now and then, and yet the honor of the person giving it be maintained by his keeping it at other times. The word of a true man stands always good: it is good now. This is logic, bitter logic, cold steel logic, logic which seems to cut right down your backbone and cleave your chine. “He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him: let him deliver him now.” Yet this hard logic can be turned to comfort. I told you a story the other day of the brother in Guy’s Hospital to whom the doctors said he must undergo an operation which was extremely dangerous. They gave him a week to consider whether he would submit to it. He was troubled for his young wife and children, and for his work for the Lord. A friend left a bunch of flowers for him, with this verse as its motto, “He trusted in God; let him deliver him now.” “Yes,” he thought, “now.” In prayer he cast himself upon the Lord, and felt in his heart, “Come on, doctors, I am ready for you.” When the next morning came, he refused to take chloroform, for he desired to go to heaven in his senses. He bore the operation man fully, and he is yet alive.

God Our Defender.- — Contend not with a man who has God at his back. Years ago, the Mentonese desired to break away from the dominion of the Prince of Monaco. They therefore drove out his agent. The prince came with his army, not a very great one, it is true, but still formidable to the Mentonese. I know not what the high and mighty princeling was not going to do; but news came that the King of Sardinia was coming up in the rear to help the Mentonese, and therefore his lordship of Monaco very prudently retired to his own rock. When a be liever stands out against evil he may be sure that the lord of hosts will not be far away. The enemy shall hear the dash of his horse-hoof and the blast of his trumpet, and shall flee before him. Wherefore be of good courage, and compel the world to say of you, “He trusted in the Lord that he would deliver him.”

The Father’s Love. — Your dear children do not trouble themselves much, do they? If they have a want, they go to father; if they are puzzled, they ask father; if they are ill-treated, they appeal to father. If but a thorn is in their finger, they run to mother for relief. Be it little or great, the child’s sorrow is the parent’s care. This makes a child’s life easy: it would make ours easy if we would but act as children towards God. Let us imitate the Elder Brother, and when we, too, are in our Gethsemane, let us, as he did, continue to cry, “My Father, My Father.” This is a better defence than shield or sword.

God’s Consideration. — A person may happen to do you a good turn; but if you are sure that he did it by accident, or with no more thought than that wherewith a passing stranger throws a penny to a beggar, you are not impressed with gratitude. But when the action of your friend is the result of earnest deliberation, and you see that he acts in the tenderest regard to your welfare, you are are far more thankful: traces of anxiety to do you good are very pleasant. Have I not heard persons say, “It was so kind and so thoughtful of him!” Do you not notice that men value kindly thought, and set great store by tender consideration! Remember, then, that there is never a thoughtless action on the part of God. His mind goes with his hand: his heart is in his acts. He thinks so much of his people, that the very hairs of their heads are all numbered: he thinks not only of the great thing, but of all the little things which are incidental to the great thing; as the hairs are to the head. Every affliction is timed and measured, and every comfort is sent with a loving thoughtfulness which makes it precious in a sevenfold degree. 0 believer, the great thoughtfulness of the divine mind is exercised towards you, the chosen of the Lord.

God’s Pity. — The old father had a very long range of eyesight; and tho the prodigal could not see him in the distance, he could see the prodigal. And the father’s first thought when he saw him was this — “0 my poor son, 0 my poor boy! that ever he should have brought himself into such a state as this!” He looked through his telescope of love, and he saw him, and said, “Ah! he did not go out of my house in such trim as that. Poor creature, his feet are bleeding; he has come a long way, I’ll be bound. Look at his face, he doesn’t look like the same boy he was when he left me. His eye that was so bright, is now sunken in its socket; his cheeks that once stood out with fatness, have now become hollow with famine. Poor wretch, I can tell all his bones, he is so emaciated.” Instead of feeling any anger in his heart, he felt just the contrary; he felt such pity for his poor son. And so the Lord feels for you.

God’s Fatherhood. — A child may be happy at school, but he longs for the holidays. Is it merely to escape his lessons? Ah, no! Ask him, and he will tell you. “I want to go home to see my father.” The same is equally true, and possibly more so, if we include the feminine form of parentage. What a home-cry is that of “mother!” The sight of that dear face has been longed and hungered for by many a child when far away. Mother or father, which you will; they are blended in the great Fatherhood of God. Let it but be said that any one has gone to his father, and no further question is asked as to the right of his going thither. To the father belongs the first possession of the child; should he not have his own child at home? The Savior wipes our tears away with a handkerchief which is marked in the corner with this word — “Father.”

At Home in God’s Arms. — I had a great sorrow yesterday of speaking to a dear brother whom I had hoped would be spared for great usefulness in a distant land; but he had just received from the doctor’s examination the solemn information that he was hopelessly diseased. We proposed that he should go to the seaside; but I saw which way his heart went. He thought of his wife and his habitation, and he said, “Let me go home. If I must die, let it be in my own house.” He spoke as I should have done in like case. At home one might not have all the skill of the hospital at command; but one would be sure of a certain priceless tenderness which no nurse can rival. Lord, thou hast been my dwelling-place: I will die in thy arms. When I am sick and weary there is none like thee, my God! When my heart breaks and all things seem lost, none can bind it up but thee, my God!

God’s Defence of His Children. — A man is generally much grieved with any one who injures his children. I have known a man behave patiently to his neighbors, and put up with a great deal from them; but when one of them has struck his child I have seen him incensed to the last degree. He has said, “I cannot stand that, I will not look on and see my own children ill-used.” The Lord says, “He that touches you touches the apple of my eye.” Jesus rises from his throne in glory and stands up indignantly while his servant Stephen is being stoned. If I had no other amusement whatever, I would not for merriment sake mock the people of God; for it will go hard with those who make unhallowed mirth out of the saints of the Most High.

The Patience of God. — They said of Cranmer that he was more than ready to forgive, for he always returned good for evil. It was a common saying, u Do my Lord of Canterbury an ill turn, and he will be your friend as long as you live.” That was fine; but my lord of Canterbury was nothing in gentleness compared with the Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The holy Leighton, also was of such a gentle spirit that one day when he went out for a walk and came back he could not get into his own house, for it was locked up, and his servant had gone away for a day’s fishing without leave or notice. All the good man said was, “John, next time you go fishing, please to let me know, or at least leave me the key, so that I may open the door.” That was all. If even men have come up to such a degree of patience, much more will you find longsuffering in God.

Imitating God. — “Be ye imitators of God, as dear children:” not as slaves might imitate their master — unwillingly, dreading the crack of his whip; but loving, willing imitators, such as children are. You do not urge your children to imitate you; they do this even in their games. See how the boy rides his wooden horse, and the girl imitates her nurse. You see the minister’s little boy trying to preach like his father; and you all remember the picture of the tiny girl with a Bible in front of her and an ancient pair of spectacles upon her nose, saying, “Now I’m grandmamma.” They copy us by force of nature: they cannot help it. Such will be the holiness of the genuine Christian. He is born from above, and hence he lives above. His imitation of God springs out of his relationship to God. Holiness must be spontaneous, or it is spurious. We cannot be driven to holiness like a bullock to his ploughing; we must delight in the law of God after the inward man. “Be ye imitators of God, as dear children,” because you do not wish for anything better than to be like your Father, and have no ambition in the world that approaches your aspiration to be holy even as God is holy, according to that word, “Be ye perfect even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.”

Under the Divine Shadow. — A Christian lady not long ago dreamed a dream which was not a dream, but fact. She saw herself as surrounded with God; encircled above, beneath, and all around, as with a blaze of light. Brilliance inconceivable made a pavilion for her; and while she stood in the midst of the glory she saw all her cares and her troubles, and her temptations, and her sins, wandering about outside of the wall of light, unable to reach her. Unless that light itself should open and make a way for them she was serenely secure, altho she could see the perils which else would destroy her. Is not the Lord a wall of fire round about us, and the glory in the midst? Is it not written, “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty?”

Chastening a Pledge of Fatherly Love.- — If any one should say to a father, after he had chastened his child, “Why is it you have chastened the child? “he would not say, it is because I am his father. It is true in one sense; but he would say,” I have chastened the child because he has done wrong.” Because the proximate reason why he had chastened his child would not be that he was his father, tho that would have something to do with it as a primary reason; but the absolute and primary cause would be, “I have chastened him because he has done wrong, because I wish to correct him for it, that he might not do so again.” Now, God, when he chastens his children, never does it absolutely; because he is his father; but he does it for a wise reason. He has some other reason besides his fatherhood. At the same time, one reason why God afflicts his children and not others, is because he is their Father. If you were to go home to-day and see a dozen boys in the streets throwing stones and breaking windows it is very likely you would start the whole lot of them; but if there is one boy that would get a sweet knock on the head it would be your own; for you would say, “What are you at, John? What business have you here? “You might not be justified, perhaps, in meddling with the others — you would let their own fathers attend to them; but because you were his father, you would tiy to make him remember it. Certain special chastisements are inflicted on God’s children, because they are his children; but it is not because they are his children that he chastens them at any one time, but because they have been doing something wrong. Now, if you are under chastisement, let this truth be certain to you. Are the consolations of God small with thee? Is there any secret thing with thee? Art thou chastened in thy busines? Then what sin hast thou committed’? Art thou cast down in thy spirit? Then what transgression has brought this on thee? Remember, it is not fair to say,” I am chastened because I am his child; “the right way to say it is, u I am his child, and therefore when he chastens me has a reason for it.”

Give God the Rudder.- — True wisdom is sure to set folly in a strong light. I have heard of a young man who went to college; and when he had been there one year, his parent said to him, “What do you know? Do you know more than when you went?” “Oh! yes,” said he, “I do.” Then he went the second year, and was asked the same question — “Do you know more than when you went?” “Oh! no,” said he, “I know a great deal less.” “Well,” said the father, “you are getting on.” Then he went the third year, and was asked the same question — “What do you know now?” “Oh!” said he, “I don’t think I know anything.” “That is right,” said the father; “you have now learnt to profit, since you say you know nothing.” He who is convinced that he knows nothing of himself as he ought to know, gives up steering his ship, and lets God put his hand on the rudder.