The Prayer of Jabez
Sermon by Charles H. Spurgeon
Metropolitian Tabernacle, London, England
"Oh that thou wouldest bless me
indeed!"—1 Chronicles 4:10.
We know very little about Jabez, except that he was more honorable than
his brethren, and that he was called Jabez because his mother bare him
with sorrow. It will sometimes happen that where there is the most
sorrow in the antecedents, there will be the most pleasure in the
sequel. As the furious storm gives place to the clear sunshine, so the
night of weeping precedes the morning of joy. Sorrow the harbinger;
gladness the prince it ushers in. Cowper says:
"The path of sorrow, and that path
alone,
Leads to the place where sorrow is unknown."
To a great extent we find that we must sow in tears before we can reap
in joy. Many of our works for Christ have cost us tears. Difficulties
and disappointments have wrung our soul with anguish. Yet those
projects that have cost us more than ordinary sorrow, have often turned
out to be the most honorable of our undertakings. While our grief
called the offspring of desire "Benoni," the son of my sorrow, our
faith has been afterwards able to give it a name of delight,
"Benjamin," the son of my right hand. You may expect a blessing in
serving God if you are enabled to persevere under many discouragements.
The ship is often long coming home, because detained on the road by
excess of cargo. Expect her freight to be the better when she reaches
the port. More honorable than his brethren was the child whom his
mother bore with sorrow. As for this Jabez, whose aim was so well
pointed, his fame so far sounded, his name so lastingly embalmed—he was
a man of prayer. The honor he enjoyed would not have been worth having
if it had not been vigorously contested and equitably won. His devotion
was the key to his promotion. Those are the best honors that come from
God, the award of grace with the acknowledgment of service. When Jacob
was surnamed Israel, he received his princedom after a memorable night
of prayer. Surely it was far more honorable to him than if it had been
bestowed upon him as a flattering destinction by some earthly emperor.
The best honor is that which a man gains in communion with the Most
High. Jabez, we are told, was more honorable than his brethren, and his
prayer is forthwith recorded, as if to intimate that he was also more
prayerful than his brethren. We are told of what petitions his prayer
consisted. All through it was very significant and instructive. We have
only time to take one clause of it—indeed, that one clause may be said
to comprehend the rest: "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!" I
commend it as a prayer for yourselves, dear brethren and sisters; one
which will be available at all seasons; a prayer to begin Christian
life with, a prayer to end it with, a prayer which would never be
unseasonable in your joys or in your sorrows.
Oh that thou, the God of Israel, the covenant God, would bless me
indeed! The very pith of the prayer seems to lie in that word,
"indeed." There are many varieties of blessing. Some are blessings only
in name: they gratify our wishes for a moment, but permanently
disappoint our expectations. They charm the eye, but pall on the taste.
Others are mere temporary blessings: they perish with the using. Though
for awhile they regale the senses, they cannot satisfy the higher
cravings of the soul. But, "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!" I
wot whom God blesseth shall be blessed. The thing good in itself is
bestowed with the good-will of the giver, and shall be productive of so
much good fortune to the recipient that it may well be esteemed as a
blessing "indeed," for there is nothing comparable to it. Let the grace
of God prompt it, let the choice of God appoint it, let the bounty of
God confer it, and then the endowment shall be something godlike
indeed; something worthy of the lips that pronounce the benediction,
and verily to be craved by every one who seeks honor that is
substantial and enduring. "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!"
Think it over, and you will see that there is a depth of meaning in the
expression.
We may set this in contrast with human blessings: "Oh that thou
wouldest bless me indeed!" It is very delightful to be blessed by our
parents, and those venerable friends whose benedictions come from their
hearts, and are backed up by their prayers. Many a poor man has had no
other legacy to leave his children except his blessing, but the
blessing of an honest, holy, Christian father is a rich treasure to his
son. One might well feel it were a thing to be deplored through life if
he had lost a parent's blessing. We like to have it. The blessing of
our spiritual parents is consolatory. Though we believe in no
priestcraft, we like to live in the affections of those who were the
means of bringing us to Christ, and from whose lips we were instructed
in the things of God. And how very precious is the blessing of the
poor! I do not wonder that Job treasured that up as a sweet thing.
"When the ear heard me, then it blessed me." If you have relieved the
widow and the fatherless, and their thanks are returned to you in
benediction, it is no mean reward. But, dear friends, after all—all
that parents, relatives, saints, and grateful persons can do in the way
of blessing, falls very far short of what we desire to have. O Lord, we
would have the blessings of our fellow-creatures, the blessings that
come from their hearts; but, "Oh that Thou wouldest bless me indeed!"
for thou canst bless with authority. Their blessings may be but words,
but thine are effectual. They may often wish what they cannot do, and
desire to give what they have not at their own disposal, but thy will
is omnipotent. Thou didst create the world with but a word. O that such
omnipotence would now bespeak me thy blessing! Other blessings may
bring us some tiny cheer, but in thy favor is life. Other blessings are
mere tittles in comparison with thy blessing; for thy blessing is the
title "to an inheritance incorruptible" and unfading, to "a kingdom
which cannot be moved." Well therefore might David pray in another
place, "With thy blessing let the house of thy servant be blessed for
ever." Perhaps in this place, Jabez may have put the blessing of God in
contrast with the blessings of men. Men will bless thee when thou doest
well for thyself. They will praise the man who is successful in
business. Nothing succeeds like success. Nothing has so much the
approval of the general public as a man's prosperity. Alas! they do not
weigh men's actions in the balances of the sanctuary, but in quite
other scales. You will find those about you who will commend you if you
are prosperous; or like Job's comforters, condemn you if you suffer
adversity. Perhaps there may be some feature about their blessings that
may please you, because you feel you deserve them. They commend you for
your patriotism: you have been a patriot. They commend you for your
generosity: you know you have been self-sacrificing. Well, but after
all, what is there in the verdict of man? At a trial, the verdict of
the policeman who stands in the court, or of the spectators who sit in
the court-house, amounts to just nothing. The man who is being tried
feels that the only thing that is of importance at all will be the
verdict of the jury, and the sentence of the judge. So it will little
avail us whatever we may do, how others commend or censure. Their
blessings are not of any great value. But, "Oh that thou wouldest bless
me," that thou wouldest say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Commend thou the feeble service that through thy grace my heart has
rendered. That will be to bless me indeed.
Men are sometimes blessed in a very fulsome sense by flattery. There
are always those who, like the fox in the fable, hope to gain the
cheese by praising the crow. They never saw such plumage, and no voice
could be so sweet as yours. The whole of their mind is set, not on you,
but on what they are to gain by you. The race of flatterers is never
extinct, though the flattered usually flatter themselves it is so. They
may conceive that men flatter others, but all is so palpable and
transparent when heaped upon themselves, that they accept it with a
great deal of self-complacency, as being perhaps a little exaggerated,
but after all exceedingly near the truth. We are not very apt to take a
large discount off the praises that others offer us; yet, were we wise,
we should press to our bosom those who censure us; and we should always
keep at arm's length those who praise us, for those who censure us to
our face cannot possibly be making a market of us; but with regard to
those who extol us, rising early, and using loud sentences of praise,
we may suspect, and we shall very seldom be unjust in the suspicion,
that there is some other motive in the praise which they render to us
than that which appears on the surface. Young man, art thou placed in a
position where God honors thee? Beware of flatterers. Or hast thou come
into a large estate? Hast thou abundance? There are always flies where
there is honey. Beware of flattery. Young woman, art thou fair to look
upon? There will be those about thee that will have their designs,
perhaps their evil designs, in lauding thy beauty. Beware of
flatterers. Turn thou aside from all these who have honey on their
tongue, because of the poison of asps that is under it. Bethink thee of
Solomon's caution, "meddle not with him that flattereth with his lips."
Cry to God, "Deliver thou me from all this vain adulation, which
nauseates my soul." So shalt thou pray to him the more fervently, "Oh
that thou wouldest bless me indeed!" Let me have thy benediction, which
never says more than it means; which never gives less than it promises.
If you take then the prayer of Jabez as being put in contrast with the
benedictions which come from men, you see much force in it.
But we may put it in another light, and compare the blessing Jabez
craved with those blessings that are temporal and transient. There are
many bounties given to us mercifully by God for which we are bound to
be very grateful; but we must not set too much store by them. We may
accept them with gratitude, but we must not make them our idols. When
we have them we have great need to cry, "Oh that thou wouldest bless me
indeed, and make these inferior blessings real blessings;" and if we
have them not, we should with greater vehemence cry, "Oh that we may be
rich in faith, and if not blessed with these external favors, may we be
blessed spiritually, and then we shall be blessed indeed."
Let us review some of these mercies, and just say a word or two about
them.
One of the first cravings of men's hearts is wealth. So universal the
desire to gain it, that we might almost say it is a natural instinct.
How many have thought if they once possessed it they should be blessed
indeed! but there are ten thousand proofs that happiness consists not
in the abundance which a man possesseth. So many instances are well
known to you all, that I need not quote any to show that riches are not
a blessing indeed. They are rather apparently than really so. Hence, it
has been well said, that when we see how much a man has we envy him;
but could we see how little he enjoys we should pity him. Some that
have had the most easy circumstances have had the most uneasy minds.
Those who have acquired all they could wish, had their wishes been at
all sane, have been led by the possession of what they had to be
discontented because they had not more.
"Thus the base miser starves amidst
his store,
Broods o'er his gold, and griping still at more,
Sits sadly pining, and believes he's poor."
Nothing is more clear to any one who chooses to observe it, than that
riches are not the chief good at whose advent sorrow flies, and in
whose presence joy perennial springs. Full often wealth cozens the
owner. Dainties are spread on his table, but his appetite fails,
minstrels wait his bidding, but his ears are deaf to all the strains of
music; holidays he may have as many as he pleases, but for him
recreation has lost all its charms: or he is young, fortune has come to
him by inheritance, and he makes pleasure his pursuit till sport
becomes more irksome than work, and dissipation worse than drudgery. Ye
know how riches make themselves wings; like the bird that roosted on
the tree, they fly away. In sickness and despondency these ample means
that once seemed to whisper, "Soul, take thine ease," prove themselves
to be poor comforters. In death they even tend to make the pang of
separation more acute, because there is the more to leave, the more to
lose. We may well say, if we have wealth, "My God, put me not off with
these husks; let me never make a god of the silver and the gold, the
goods and the chattels, the estates and investments, which in thy
providence thou hast given me. I beseech thee, bless me indeed. As for
these worldly possessions, they will be my bane unless I have thy grace
with them." And if you have not wealth, and perhaps the most of you
will never have it, say, "My Father, thou hast denied me this outward
and seeming good, enrich me with thy love, give me the gold of thy
favor, bless me indeed; then allot to others whatever thou wilt, thou
shalt divide my portion, my soul shall wait thy daily will; do thou
bless me indeed, and I shall be content."
Another transient blessing which our poor humanity fondly covets and
eagerly pursues is fame. In this respect we would fain be more
honorable than our brethren, and outstrip all our competitors. It seems
natural to us all to wish to make a name, and gain some note in the
circle we move in at any rate, and we wish to make that circle wider if
we can. But here, as of riches, it is indisputable that the greatest
fame does not bring with it any equal measure of gratification. Men, in
seeking after notoriety or honor, have a degree of pleasure in the
search which they do not always possess when they have gained their
object. Some of the most famous men have also been the most wretched of
the human race. If thou hast honor and fame, accept it; but let this
prayer go up, "My God, bless thou me indeed, for what profit were it,
if my name were in a thousand mouths, if thou shouldest spue it out of
thy mouth? What matter, though my name were written on marble, if it
were not written in the Lamb's Book of Life? These blessings are only
apparently blessings, windy blessings, blessings that mock me. Give me
thy blessing: then the honor which comes of thee will make me blessed
indeed." If you happen to have lived in obscurity, and have never
entered the lists for honors among your fellow-men, be content to run
well your own course and fulfill truly your own vocation. To lack fame
is not the most grievous of ills; it is worse to have it like the snow,
that whitens the ground in the morning, and disappears in the heat of
the day. What matters it to a dead man that men are talking of him? Get
thou the blessing indeed.
There is another temporal blessing which wise men desire, and
legitimately may wish for rather than the other two—the blessing of
health. Can we ever prize it sufficiently? To trifle with such a boon
is the madness of folly. The highest eulogiums that can be passed on
health would not be extravagant. He that has a healthy body is
infinitely more blessed than he who is sickly, whatever his estates may
be. Yet if I have health, my bones well set, and my muscles well
strung, if I scarcely know an ache or pain, but can rise in the
morning, and with elastic step go forth to labor, and cast myself upon
my couch at night, and sleep the sleep of the happy, yet, oh let me not
glory in my strength! In a moment it may fail me. A few short weeks may
reduce the strong man to a skeleton. Consumption may set in, the cheek
may pale with the shadow of death. Let not the strong man glory in his
strength. The Lord "delighteth not in the strength of the horse: he
taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man." And let us not make our
boast concerning these things. Say, thou that are in good health, "My
God, bless me indeed. Give me the healthy soul. Heal me of my spiritual
diseases. Jehovah Rophi come, and purge out the leprosy that is in my
heart by nature: make me healthy in the heavenly sense, that I may not
be put aside among the unclean, but allowed to stand amongst the
congregation of thy saints. Bless my bodily health to me that I may use
it rightly, spending the strength I have in thy service and to thy
glory; otherwise, though blessed with health, I may not be blessed
indeed." Some of you, dear friends, do not possess the great treasure
of health. Wearisome days and nights are appointed you. Your bones are
become an almanac, in which you note the changes of the weather. There
is much about you that is fitted to excite pity. But I pray that you
may have the blessing indeed, and I know what that is. I can heartily
sympathise with a sister that said to me the other day, "I had such
nearness to God when I was sick, such full assurance, and such joy in
the Lord, and I regret to say I have lost it now; that I could almost
wish to be ill again, if thereby I might have a renewal of communion
with God." I have oftentimes looked gratefully back to my sick chamber.
I am certain that I never did grow in grace one half so much anywhere
as I have upon the bed of pain. It ought not to be so. Our joyous
mercies ought to be great fertilizers to our spirit; but not
unfrequently our griefs are more salutary than our joys. The pruning
knife is best for some of us. Well, after all, whatever you have to
suffer, of weakness, of debility, of pain, and anguish, may it be so
attended with the divine presence, that this light affliction may work
out for you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, and so
you may be blessed indeed.
I will only dwell upon one more temporal mercy, which is very
precious—I mean the blessing of home. I do not think any one can ever
prize it too highly, or speak too well of it. What a blessing it is to
have the fireside, and the dear relationships that gather round the
word "Home," wife, children, father, brother, sister! Why, there are no
songs in any language that are more full of music than those dedicated
to "Mother." We hear a great deal about the German "Fatherland"—we like
the sound. But the word, "Father," is the whole of it. The "land" is
nothing: the "Father" is key to the music. There are many of us, I
hope, blessed with a great many of these relationships. Do not let us
be content to solace our souls with ties that must ere long be
sundered. Let us ask that over and above them may come the blessing
indeed. I thank thee, my God, for my earthly father; but oh, be thou my
Father, then am I blessed indeed. I thank thee, my God, for a mother's
love; but comfort thou my soul as one whom a mother comforteth, then am
I blessed indeed. I thank thee, Savior, for the marriage bond; but be
thou the bridegroom of my soul. I thank thee for the tie of
brotherhood; but be thou my brother born for adversity, bone of my
bone, and flesh of my flesh. The home thou hast given me I prize, and
thank thee for it; but I would dwell in the house of the Lord for ever,
and be a child that never wanders, wherever my feet may travel, from my
Father's house with its many mansions. You can thus be blessed indeed.
If not domiciled under the paternal care of the Almighty, even the
blessing of home, with all its sweet familiar comforts, does not reach
to the benediction which Jabez desired for himself. But do I speak to
any here that are separated from kith and kin? I know some of you have
left behind you in the bivouac of life graves where parts of your heart
are buried, and that which remains is bleeding with just so many
wounds. Ah, well! the Lord bless you indeed! Widow, thy maker is thy
husband. Fatherless one, he hath said, "I will not leave you
comfortless: I will come to you." Oh, to find all your relationships
made up in him, then you will be blessed indeed! I have perhaps taken
too long a time in mentioning these temporary blessings, so let me set
the text in another light. I trust we have had human blessings and
temporary blessings, to fill our hearts with gladness, but not to foul
our hearts with worldliness, or to distract our attention from the
things that belong to our everlasting welfare.
Let us proceed, thirdly, to speak of imaginary blessings. There are
such in the world. From them may God deliver us. "Oh that thou wouldest
bless me indeed!" Take the Pharisee. He stood in the Lord's house, and
he thought he had the Lord's blessing, and it made him very bold, and
he spoke with unctuous self-complacency, "God, I thank thee, that I am
not as other men are," and so on. He had the blessing, and well indeed
he supposed himself to have merited it. He had fasted twice in the
week, paid tithes of all that he possessed, even to the odd farthing on
the mint, and the extra halfpenny on the cummin he had used. He felt he
had done everything. His the blessing of a quiet or a quiescent
conscience; good, easy man. He was a pattern to the parish. It was a
pity everybody did not live as he did; if they had, they would not have
wanted any police. Pilate might have dismissed his guards, and Herod
his soldiers. He was just one of the most excellent persons that ever
breathed. He adored the city of which he was a burgess! Ay; but he was
not blessed indeed. This was all his own overweening conceit. He was a
mere wind-bag, nothing more and the blessing which he fancied had
fallen upon him, had never come. The poor publican whom he thought
accursed, went to his home justified rather than he. The blessing had
not fallen on the man who thought he had it. Oh, let every one of us
here feel the sting of this rebuke, and pray: "Great God, save us from
imputing to ourselves a righteousness which we do not possess. Save us
from wrapping ourselves up in our own rags, and fancying we have put on
the wedding garments. Bless me indeed. Let me have the true
righteousness. Let me have the true worthiness which thou canst accept,
even that which is of faith in Jesus Christ."
Another form of this imaginary blessing is found in persons who would
scorn to be thought self-righteous. Their delusion, however, is near
akin. I hear them singing—
"I do believe, I will believe
That Jesus died for me,
And on his cross he shed his blood,
From sin to set me free."
You believe it, you say. Well, but how do you know? Upon what authority
do you make so sure? Who told you? "Oh, I believe it." Yes, but we must
mind what we believe. Have you any clear evidence of a special interest
in the blood of Jesus? Can you give any spiritual reasons for believing
that Christ has set you free from sin? I am afraid that some have got a
hope that has not got any ground, like an anchor without any
fluke—nothing to grasp, nothing to lay hold upon. They say they are
saved, and they stick to it they are, and think it wicked to doubt it;
but yet they have no reason to warrant their confidence. When the sons
of Kohath carried the ark, and touched it with their hands, they did
rightly; but when Uzzah touched it he died. There are those who are
ready to be fully assured; there are others to whom it will be death to
talk of it. There is a great difference between presumption and full
assurance. Full assurance is reasonable: it is based on solid ground.
Presumption takes for granted, and with brazen face pronounces that to
be its own to which it has no right whatever. Beware, I pray thee, of
presuming that thou art saved. If with thy heart thou dost trust in
Jesus, then art thou saved; but if thou merely sayest, "I trust in
Jesus," it doth not save thee. If thy heart be renewed, if thou shalt
hate the things that thou didst once love, and love the things that
thou didst once hate; if thou hast really repented; if there be a
thorough change of mind in thee; if thou be born again, then hast thou
reason to rejoice: but if there be no vital change, no inward
godliness; if there be no love to God, no prayer, no work of the Holy
Spirit, then thy saying, "I am saved," is but thine own assertion, and
it may delude, but it will not deliver thee. Our prayer ought to be,
"Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed, with real faith, with real
salvation, with the trust in Jesus that is the essential of faith; not
with the conceit that begets credulity. God preserve us from imaginary
blessings!" I have met with persons who said, "I believe I am saved,
because I dreamt it." Or, "Because I had a text of Scripture that
applied to my own case. Such and such a good man said so and so in his
sermon." Or, "Because I took to weeping and was excited, and felt as I
never felt before." Ah! but nothing will stand the trial but this,
"Dost thou abjure all confidence in everything but the finished work of
Jesus, and dost thou come to Christ to be reconciled in him to God?" If
thou dost not, thy dreams, and visions, and fancies, are but dreams,
and visions, and fancies, and will not serve thy turn when most thou
needest them. Pray the Lord to bless thee indeed, for of that sterling
verity in all thy walk and talk there is a great scarcity.
Too much I am afraid, that even those who are saved—saved for time and
eternity—need this caution, and have good cause to pray this prayer
that they may learn to make a distinction between some things which
they think to be spiritual blessings, and others which are blessings
indeed. Let me show you what I mean. Is it certainly a blessing to get
an answer to your prayer after your own mind? I always like to qualify
my most earnest prayer with, "Not as I will, but as thou wilt." Not
only ought I to do it, but I would like to do it, because otherwise I
might ask for something which it would be dangerous for me to receive.
God might give it me in anger, and I might find little sweetness in the
grant, but much soreness in the grief it caused me. You remember how
Israel of old asked for flesh, and God gave them quails; but while the
meat was yet in their mouths the wrath of God came upon them. Ask for
the meat, if you like, but always put in this: "Lord, if this is not a
real blessing, do not give it me." "Bless me indeed." I hardly like to
repeat the old story of the good woman whose son was ill—a little child
near death's door—and she begged the minister, a Puritan, to pray for
its life. He did pray very earnestly, but he put in, "If it be thy
will, save this child." The woman said, "I cannot bear that: I must
have you pray that the child shall live. Do not put in any ifs or
buts." "Woman," said the minister, "it may be you will live to rue the
day that ever you wished to set your will up against God's will."
Twenty years afterwards, she was carried away in a fainting fit from
under Tyburn gallows-tree, where that son was put to death as a felon.
Although she had lived to see her child grow up to be a man, it would
have been infinitely better for her had the child died, and infinitely
wiser had she left it to God's will. Do not be quite so sure that what
you think an answer to prayer is any proof of divine love. It may leave
much room for thee to seek unto the Lord, saying, "Oh that thou
wouldest blessed me indeed!" So sometimes great exhilaration of spirit,
liveliness of heart, even though it be religious joy, may not always be
a blessing. We delight in it, and oh, sometimes when we have had
gatherings for prayer here, the fire has burned, and our souls have
glowed! We felt at the time how we could sing -
"My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss."
So far as that was a blessing we are thankful for it; but I should not
like to set such seasons up, as if my enjoyments were the main token of
God's favor; or as if they were the chief signs of his blessing.
Perhaps it would be a greater blessing to me to be broken in spirit,
and laid low before the Lord at the present time. When you ask for the
highest joy, and pray to be on the mountain with Christ, remember it
may be as much a blessing; yea, a blessing indeed to be brought into
the Valley of Humiliation, to be laid very low, and constrained to cry
out in anguish, "Lord, save, or I perish!"
"If to-day he deigns to bless us
With a sense of pardon'd sin,
He to-morrow may distress us,
Make us feel the plague within,
All to make us
Sick of self, and fond of him."
These variable experiences of ours may be blessings indeed to us, when,
had we been always rejoicing, we might have been like Moab, settled on
our lees, and not emptied from vessel to vessel. It fares ill with
those who have no changes; they fear not God. Have we not, dear
friends, sometimes envied those persons that are always calm and
unruffled, and are never perturbed in mind? Well, there are Christians
whose evenness of temper deserves to be emulated. And as for that calm
repose, that unwavering assurance which comes from the Spirit of God,
it is a very delightful attainment; but I am not sure that we ought to
envy anybody's lot because it is more tranquil or less exposed to storm
and tempest than our own. There is a danger of saying, "Peace, peace,"
where there is no peace, and there is a calmness which arises from
callousness. Dupes there are who deceive their own souls. "They have no
doubts," they say, but it is because they have little heart searching.
They have no anxieties, because they have not much enterprise or many
pursuits to stir them up. Or it may be they have no pains, because they
have no life. Better go to heaven, halt and maimed, than go marching on
in confidence down to hell. "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!" My
God, I will envy no one of his gifts or his graces, much less of his
inward mood or his outward circumstances, if only thou wilt "bless me
indeed." I would not be comforted unless thou comfortest me, nor have
any peace but Christ my peace, nor any rest but the rest which cometh
from the sweet savor of the sacrifice of Christ. Christ shall be all in
all, and none shall be anything to me save himself. O that we might
always feel that we are not to judge as to the manner of the blessing,
but must leave it with God to give us what we would have, not the
imaginary blessing, the superficial and apparent blessing, but the
blessing indeed!
Equally too with regard to our work and service, I think our prayer
should always be, "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed!" It is
lamentable to see the work of some good men, though it is not ours to
judge them, how very pretentious, but how very unreal it is. It is
really shocking to think how some men pretend to build up a church in
the course of two or three evenings. They will report, in the corner of
the newspapers, that there were forty-three persons convinced of sin,
and forty-six justified, and sometimes thirty-eight sanctified; I do
not know what besides of wonderful statistics they give as to all that
is accomplished. I have observed congregations that have been speedily
gathered together, and great additions have been made to the church all
of a sudden. And what has become of them? Where are those churches at
the present moment? The dreariest deserts in Christendom are those
places that were fertilised by the patent manures of certain
revivalists. The whole church seemed to have spent its strength in one
rush and effort after something, and it ended in nothing at all. They
built their wooden house, and piled up the hay, and made a stubble
spire that seemed to reach the heavens, and there fell one spark, and
all went away in smoke; and he that came to labor next time—the
successor of the great builder—had to get the ashes swept away before
he could do any good. The prayer of every one that serves God should
be, "Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed." Plod on, plod on. If I
only build one piece of masonry in my life, and nothing more, if it be
gold, silver, or precious stones, it is a good deal for a man to do; of
such precious stuff as that, to build even one little corner which will
not show, is a worthy service. It will not be much talked of, but it
will last. There is the point: it will last. "Establish thou the work
of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." If
we are not builders in an established church, it is of little use to
try at all. What God establishes will stand, but what men build without
his establishment will certainly come to nought. "Oh that thou wouldest
bless me indeed!" Sunday-school teacher, be this your prayer. Tract
distributer, local preacher, whatever you may be, dear brother or
sister, whatever your form of service, do ask the Lord that you may not
be one of those plaster builders using sham compo that only requires a
certain amount of frost and weather to make it crumble to pieces. Be it
yours, if you cannot build a cathedral, to build at least one part of
the marvellous temple that God is piling for eternity, which will
outlast the stars.
I have one thing more to mention before I bring this sermon to a close.
The blessings of God's grace are blessings indeed, which in right
earnest we ought to seek after. By these marks shall ye know them.
Blessings indeed, are such blessings as come from the pierced hand;
blessings that come from calvary's bloody tree, streaming from the
Savior's wounded side—thy pardon, thine acceptance, thy spiritual life:
the bread that is meat indeed, the blood that is drink indeed—thy
oneness to Christ, and all that comes of it—these are blessings indeed.
Any blessing that comes as the result of the Spirit's work in thy soul
is a blessing indeed; though it humble thee, though it strip thee,
though it kill thee, it is a blessing indeed. Though the harrow go over
and over thy soul, and the deep plough cut into thy very heart; though
thou be maimed and wounded, and left for dead, yet if the Spirit of God
do it, it is a blessing indeed. If he convinceth thee of sin, of
righteousness, and of judgment, even though thou hast not hitherto been
brought to Christ, it is a blessing indeed. Anything that he does,
accept it; do not be dubious of it; but pray that he may continue his
blessed operations in thy soul. Whatsoever leads thee to God is in like
manner a blessing indeed. Riches may not do it. There may be a golden
wall between thee and God. Health will not do it: even the strength and
marrow of thy bones may keep thee at a distance from thy God. But
anything that draws thee nearer to him is a blessing indeed. What
though it be a cross that raiseth thee? Yet if it raise thee to God it
shall be a blessing indeed. Anything that reaches into eternity, with a
preparation for the world to come, anything that we can carry across
the river, the holy joy that is to blossom in those fields beyond the
swelling flood, the pure cloudless love of the brotherhood which is to
be the atmosphere of truth for ever—anything of this kind that has the
eternal broad arrow on it—the immutable mark—is a blessing indeed. And
anything which helps me to glorify God is a blessing indeed. If I be
sick, and that helps me to praise him, it is a blessing indeed. If I be
poor, and I can serve him better in poverty than in wealth, it is a
blessing indeed. If I be in contempt, I will rejoice in that day and
leap for joy, if it be for Christ's sake—it is a blessing indeed. Yea,
my faith shakes off the disguise, snatches the vizor from the fair
forehead of the blessing, and counts it all joy to all into divers
trials for the sake of Jesus and the recompense of reward that he has
promised. "Oh that we may be blessed indeed!"
Now, I send you away with these three words: "Search." See whether the
blessings are blessings indeed, and be not satisfied unless you know
that they are of God, tokens of his grace, and earnests of his saving
purpose. "Weigh"—that shall be the next word. Whatever thou hast, weigh
it in the scale, and ascertain if it be a blessing indeed, conferring
such grace upon you as causeth you to abound in love, and to abound in
every good word and work. And lastly, "Pray." So pray that this prayer
may mingle with all thy prayers, that whatsoever God grants or whatever
he withholds thou mayest be blessed indeed. Is it a joy-time with thee?
O that Christ may mellow thy joy, and prevent the intoxication of
earthly blessedness from leading thee aside from close walking with
him! In the night of sorrow, pray that he will bless thee indeed, lest
the wormwood also intoxicate thee and make thee drunk, lest thy
afflictions should make thee think hardly of him. Pray for the
blessing, which having, thou art rich to all the intents of bliss, or
which lacking, thou art poor and destitute, though plenty fill thy
store. "If thy presence go not with me, carry us not up hence." But "Oh
that thou wouldest bless me indeed!"