particular redemption

A Sermon

(No. 181)

Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 28, 1858 by the

REV. C.H. SPURGEON

at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.

"Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to

minister, and to give His life a ransom for many."--Matthew 20:28.

WHEN first it was my duty to occupy this pulpit, and preach in this

hall, my congregation assumed the appearance of an irregular mass of

persons collected from all the streets of this city to listen to the

Word. Twas then simply an evangelist, preaching to many who had not

heard the Gospel before. By the grace of God, the most blessed change

has taken place; and now, instead of having an irregular multitude

gathered together, my congregation is as fixed as that of any minister

in the whole city of London. I can from this pulpit observe the

countenance of my friends, who have occupied the same places, as nearly

as possible, for these many months; and I have the privilege and the

pleasure of knowing that a very large proportion, certainly

three-fourths of the persons who meet together here, are not persons

who stray hither from curiosity, but are my regular and constant

hearers. And observe, that my character also has been changed. From

being an evangelist, it is now my business to become your pastor. You

were once a motley group assembled to listen to me, but now we are

bound together by the ties of love; through association we have grown

to love and respect each other, and now you have become the sheep of my

pasture, and members of my flock; and I have now the privilege of

assuming the position of a pastor in this place, as well as in the

chapel where I labour in the evening. I think, then, it will strike the

judgment of every person, that as both the congregation and office have

now changed, the teaching itself should in some measure suffer a

difference. It has been my wont to address you from the simple truths

of the Gospel; I have very seldom, in this place, attempted to dive

into the deep things of God. A text which I have thought suitable for

my congregation in the evening, I should not have made the subject of

discussion in this place in the morning. There are many high and

mysterious doctrines which I have often taken the opportunity of

handling in my own place, that I have not taken the liberty of

introducing here, regarding you as a company of people casually

gathered together to hear the Word. But now, since the circumstances

are changed, the teaching will be changed also. I shall not now simply

confine myself to the doctrine of faith, or the teaching of believer's

baptism; I shall not stay upon the surface of matters, but shall

venture, as God shall guide me, to enter into those things that lie at

the basis of the religion that we hold so dear. I shall not blush to

preach before you the doctrine of God's Divine Sovereignty; I shall not

stagger to preach in the most unreserved and unguarded manner the

doctrine of election. I shall not be afraid to propound the great truth

of the final perseverance of the saints; I shall not withhold that

undoubted truth of Scripture, the effectual calling of God's elect; I

shall endeavour, as God shall help me, to keep back nothing from you

who have become my flock. Seeing that many of you have now "tasted that

the Lord is gracious," we will endeavour to go through the whole system

of the doctrines of grace, that saints may be edified and built up in

their most holy faith.

I begin this morning with the doctrine of Redemption. "He gave his life

a ransom for many."

The doctrine of Redemption is one of the most important doctrines of

the system of faith. A mistake on this point will inevitably lead to a

mistake through the entire system of our belief.

Now, you are aware that there are different theories of Redemption. All

Christians hold that Christ died to redeem, but all Christians do not

teach the same redemption. We differ as to the nature of atonement, and

as to the design of redemption. For instance, the Arminian holds that

Christ, when He died, did not die with an intent to save any particular

person; and they teach that Christ's death does not in itself secure,

beyond doubt, the salvation of any one man living. They believe that

Christ died to make the salvation of all men possible, or that by the

doing of something else, any man who pleases may attain unto eternal

life; consequently, they are obliged to hold that if man's will would

not give way and voluntarily surrender to grace, then Christ's

atonement would be unavailing. They hold that there was no

particularity and speciality in the death of Christ. Christ died,

according to them, as much for Judas in Hell as for Peter who mounted

to Heaven. They believe that for those who are consigned to eternal

fire, there was a true and real a redemption made as for those who now

stand before the throne of the Most High. Now, we believe no such

thing. We hold that Christ, when He died, had an object in view, and

that object will most assuredly, and beyond a doubt, be accomplished.

We measure the design of Christ's death by the effect of it. If any one

asks us, "What did Christ design to do by His death?" we answer that

question by asking him another--"What has Christ done, or what will

Christ do by His death?" For we declare that the measure of the effect

of Christ's love, is the measure of the design of it. We cannot so

belie our reason as to think that the intention of Almighty God could

be frustrated, or that the design of so great a thing as the atonement,

can by any way whatever, be missed of. We hold--we are not afraid to

say that we believe--that Christ came into this world with the

intention of saving "a multitude which no man can number;" and we

believe that as the result of this, every person for whom He died must,

beyond the shadow of a doubt, be cleansed from sin, and stand, washed

in blood, before the Father's throne. We do not believe that Christ

made any effectual atonement for those who are for ever damned; we dare

not think that the blood of Christ was ever shed with the intention of

saving those whom God foreknew never could be saved, and some of whom

were even in Hell when Christ, according to some men's account, died to

save them.

I have thus just stated our theory of redemption, and hinted at the

differences which exist between two great parties in the professing

church. It shall be now my endeavour to show the greatness of the

redemption of Christ Jesus; and by so doing, I hope to be enabled by

God's Spirit, to bring out the whole of the great system of redemption,

so that it may be understood by us all, even if all of us cannot

receive it. For you must bear this in mind, that some of you, perhaps,

may be ready to dispute things which I assert; but you will remember

that this is nothing to me; I shall at all times teach those things

which I hold to be true, without let or hindrance from any man

breathing. You have the like liberty to do the same in your own places,

and to preach your own views in your own assemblies, as I claim the

right to preach mine, fully, and without hesitation.

Christ Jesus "gave his life a ransom for many;" and by that ransom He

wrought out for us a great redemption. I shall endeavour to show the

greatness of this redemption, measuring it in five ways. We shall note

its greatness, first of all from the heinousness of our own guilt, from

which He has delivered us; secondly, we shall measure His redemption by

the sternness of divine justice; thirdly, we shall measure it by the

price which He paid, the pangs which He endured; then we shall

endeavour to magnify it, by noting the deliverance which He actually

wrought out; and we shall close by noticing the vast number for whom

this redemption is made, who in our text are described as "many."

I. First, then we shall see that the redemption of Christ was no little

thing, if we do but measure it, first by OUR OWN SINS. My brethren, for

a moment look at the hole of the pit whence ye were digged, and the

quarry whence you were hewn. Ye, who have been washed, and cleansed,

and sanctified, pause for a moment, and look back at the former state

of your ignorance; the sins in which you indulged, the crimes into

which you were hurried, the continual rebellion against God in which it

was your habit to live. One sin can ruin a soul for ever; it is not in

the power of the human mind to grasp the infinity of evil that

slumbereth in the bowels of one solitary sin. There is a very infinity

of guilt couched in one transgression against the majesty of Heaven.

If, then, you and I had sinned but once, nothing but an atonement

infinite in value could ever have washed away the sin and made

satisfaction for it. But has it been once that you and I have

transgressed? Nay, my brethren, our iniquities are more in number than

the hairs of our head; they have mightily prevailed against us. We

might as well attempt to number the sands upon the sea-shore, or count

the drops which in their aggregate do make the ocean, as attempt to

count the transgressions which have marked our lives. Let us go back to

our childhood. How early we began to sin! How we disobeyed our parents,

and even then learned to make our mouth the house of lies! In our

childhood, how full of wantonness and waywardness we were! Headstrong

and giddy, we preferred our own way, and burst through all restraint

which godly parents put upon us. Nor did our youth sober us. Wildly we

dashed, many of us, into the very midst of the dance of sin. We became

leaders in iniquity; we not only sinned ourselves, but we taught others

to sin. And as for your manhood, ye that have entered upon the prime of

life, ye may be more outwardly sober, ye may be somewhat free from the

dissipation of your youth; but how little has the man become bettered!

Unless the sovereign grace of God hath renewed us, we are now no better

than we were when we began; and even if it has operated, we have still

sins to repent of, for we all lay our mouths in the dust, and cast

ashes on our head, and cry, "Unclean! Unclean!" And oh! ye that lean

wearily on your staff, the support of your old age, have ye not sins

still clinging to your garments? Are your lives as white as the snowy

hairs that crown your head? Do you not still feel that transgression

besmears the skirts of your robe, and mars its spotlessness? How often

are you now plunged into the ditch, till your own clothes do abhor you!

Cast your eyes over the sixty, the seventy, the eighty years, during

which God hath spared your lives; and can ye for a moment think it

possible, that ye can number up your innumerable transgressions, or

compute the weight of the crimes which you have committed? O ye stars

of Heaven! the astronomers may measure your distance and tell your

height, but O ye sins of mankind! ye surpass all thought. O ye lofty

mountains! the home of the tempest, the birthplace of the storm! man

may climb your summits and stand wonderingly upon your snows; but ye

hills of sin! ye tower higher than our thoughts; ye chasms of

transgressions! ye are deeper than our imagination dares to dive. Do

you accuse me of slandering human nature? It is because you know it

not. If God had once manifested your heart to yourself, you would bear

me witness, that so far from exaggerating, my poor words fail to

describe the desperateness of our evil. Oh! if we could each of us look

into our hearts today--if our eyes could be turned within, so as to see

the iniquity that is graven as with the point of the diamond upon our

stony hearts, we should then say to the minister, that however he may

depict the desperateness of guilt, yet can he not by any means surpass

it. How great then, beloved, must be the ransom of Christ, when He

saved us from all these sins! The men for whom Jesus died, however

great their sin, when they believe, are justified from all their

transgressions. Though they may have indulged in every vice and every

lust which Satan could suggest, and which human nature could perform,

yet once believing, all their guilt is washed away. Year after year may

have coated them with blackness, till their sin hath become of double

dye; but in one moment of faith, one triumphant moment of confidence in

Christ, the great redemption takes away the guilt of numerous years.

Nay, more, if it were possible for all the sins that men have done, in

thought, or word, or deed, since worlds were made, or time began, to

meet on one poor head--the great redemption is all-sufficient to take

all these sins away, and wash the sinner whiter than the driven snow.

Oh! who shall measure the heights of the Saviour's all-sufficiency?

First, tell how high is sin, and, then, remember that as Noah's flood

prevailed over the tops of earth's mountains, so the flood of Christ's

redemption prevails over the tops of the mountains of our sins. In

Heaven's courts there are today men that once were murderers, and

thieves, and drunkards, and whoremongers, and blasphemers, and

persecutors; but they have been washed--they have been sanctified. Ask

them whence the brightness of their robes hath come, and where their

purity hath been achieved, and they, with united breath, tell you that

they have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the

Lamb. O ye troubled consciences! O ye weary and heavy-laden ones! O ye

that are groaning on account of sin! the great redemption now

proclaimed to you is all-sufficient for your wants; and though your

numerous sins exceed the stars that deck the sky, here is an atonement

made for them all--a river which can overflow the whole of them, and

carry them away from you for ever.

This, then, is the first measure of the atonement--the greatness of our

guilt.

II. Now, secondly, we must measure the great redemption BY THE

STERNNESS OF DIVINE JUSTICE. "God is love," always loving; but my next

proposition does not at all interfere with this assertion. God is

sternly just, inflexibly severe in His dealings with mankind. The God

of the Bible is not the God of some men's imagination, Who thinks so

little of sin that He passes it by without demanding any punishment for

it. He is not the God of the men who imagine that our transgressions

are such little things, such mere peccadilloes that the God of Heaven

winks at them, and suffers them to die forgotten. No; Jehovah, Israel's

God, hath declared concerning Himself, "The Lord thy God is a jealous

God." It is His own declaration, "I will by no means clear the guilty."

"The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Learn ye, my friends, to look

upon God as being as severe in His justice as if He were not loving,

and yet as loving as if He were not severe. His love does not diminish

His justice, nor does His justice, in the least degree, make warfare

upon His love. The two things are sweetly linked together in the

atonement of Christ. But, mark, we can never understand the fullness of

the atonement till we have first grasped the Scriptural truth of God's

immense justice. There was never an ill word spoken, nor an ill thought

conceived, nor an evil deed done, for which God will not have

punishment from some one or another. He will either have satisfaction

from you, or else from Christ. If you have no atonement to bring

through Christ, you must for ever lie paying the debt which you never

can pay, in eternal misery; for as surely as God is God, He will sooner

lose His Godhead than suffer one sin to go unpunished, or one particle

of rebellion unrevenged. You may say that this character of God is

cold, and stern, and severe. I cannot help what you say of it; it is

nevertheless true. Such is the God of the Bible; and though we repeat

it is true that He is love, it is no more true that He is love than

that He is full of justice, for every good thing meets in God, and is

carried to perfection, whilst love reaches to consummate loveliness,

justice reaches to the sternness of inflexibility in Him. He has no

bend, no warp in His character; no attribute so predominates as to cast

a shadow upon the other. Love hath its full sway, and justice hath no

narrower limit than His love. Oh! then, beloved, think how great must

have been the substitution of Christ, when it satisfied God for all the

sins of His people. For man's sin God demands eternal punishment; and

God hath prepared a Hell into which He casts those who die impenitent.

Oh! my brethren, can ye think what must have been the greatness of the

atonement which was the substitution for all this agony which God would

have cast upon us, if He had not poured it upon Christ. Look! look!

look with solemn eye through the shades that part us from the world of

spirits, and see that house of misery which men call Hell! Ye cannot

endure the spectacle. Remember that in that place there are spirits for

ever paying their debt to divine justice; but though some of them have

been for these four thousand years sweltering in the flame, they are no

nearer a discharge than when they began; and when ten thousand times

ten thousand years shall have rolled away, they will no more have made

satisfaction to God for their guilt than they have done up till now.

And now can you grasp the thought of the greatness of your Saviour's

mediation when He paid your debt, and paid it all at once; so that

there now remaineth not one farthing of debt owing from Christ's people

to their God, except a debt of love. To justice the believer oweth

nothing; though he owed originally so much that eternity would not have

been long enough to suffice for the paying of it, yet, in one moment

Christ did pay it all, so that the man who believeth is entirely

justified from all guilt, and set free from all punishment, through

what Jesus hath done. Think ye, then, how great His atonement if He

hath done all this.

I must just pause here, and utter another sentence. There are times

when God the Holy Spirit shows to men the sternness of justice in their

own consciences. There is a man here today who has just been cut to the

heart with a sense of sin. He was once a free man, a libertine, in

bondage to none; but now the arrow of the Lord sticks fast in his

heart, and he has come under a bondage worse than that of Egypt. I see

him today, he tells me that his guilt haunts him everywhere. The Negro

slave, guided by the pole star, may escape the cruel ties of his master

and reach another land where he may be free; but this man feels that if

he were to wander the wide world over he could not escape from guilt.

He that hath been bound by many irons, can yet find a file that can

unbind him and set him at liberty; but this man tells you that he has

tried prayers and tears and good works, but cannot escape the gyves

from his wrist; he feels as a lost sinner still, and emancipation, do

what he may, seems to him impossible. The captive in the dungeon is

sometimes free in thought, though not in body; through his dungeon

walls his spirit leaps, and flies to the stars, free as the eagle that

is no man's slave. But this man is a slave in his thoughts; he cannot

think one bright, one happy thought. His soul is cast down within him;

the iron has entered into his spirit, and he is sorely afflicted. The

captive sometimes forgets his slavery in sleep, but this man cannot

sleep; by night he dreams of hell, by day he seems to feel it; he bears

a burning furnace of flame within his heart, and do what he may he

cannot quench it. He has been confirmed, he has been baptized, he takes

the sacrament, he attends a church or he frequents a chapel, he regards

every rubric and obeys every canon, but the fire burns still. He gives

his money to the poor, he is ready to give his body to be burned, he

feeds the hungry, he visits the sick, he clothes the naked, but the

fire burns still, and do what he may he cannot quench it. O, ye sons of

weariness and woe, this that you feel is God's justice in full pursuit

of you, and happy are you that you feel this, for now to you I preach

this glorious Gospel of the blessed God. You are the man for whom Jesus

Christ has died; for you He has satisfied stern justice; and now all

you have to do to obtain peace of conscience, is just to say to your

adversary who pursues you, "Look you there! Christ died for me; my good

works would not stop you, my tears would not appease you: look you

there! There stands the cross; there hangs the bleeding God! Hark to

His death-shriek! See Him die! Art thou not satisfied now?" And when

thou hast done that, thou shalt have the peace of God which passeth all

understanding, which shall keep thy heart and mind through Jesus Christ

thy Lord; and then shalt thou know the greatness of His atonement.

III. In the third place, we may measure the greatness of Christ's

Redemption by THE PRICE HE PAID. It is impossible for us to know how

great were the pangs of our Saviour; but yet some glimpse of them will

afford us a little idea of the greatness of the price He paid for us. O

Jesus, who shall describe thine agony?

"Come, all ye springs,

Dwell in my head and eyes; come, clouds and rain!

My grief hath need of all the wat'ry things,

That nature hath produc'd. Let ev'ry vein

Suck up a river to supply mine eyes,

My weary weeping eyes; too dry for me,

Unless they get new conduits, new supplies,

To bear them out, and with my state agree."

O Jesus! thou wast a sufferer from thy birth, a man of sorrows and

grief's acquaintance. Thy sufferings fell on thee in one perpetual

shower, until the last dread hour of darkness. Then not in a shower,

but in a cloud, a torrent, a cataract of grief, thine agonies did dash

upon thee. See Him yonder! It is a night of frost and cold; but He is

all abroad. It is night; He sleeps not, but He is in prayer. Hark to

His groans! Did ever man wrestle as He wrestles? Go and look in His

face! Was ever such suffering depicted upon mortal countenance as you

can there behold? Hear His own words: "My soul is exceeding sorrowful,

even unto death." He rises: He is seized by traitors and is dragged

away. Let us step to the place when just now He was engaged in agony. O

God! and what is this we see? What is this that stains the ground? It

is blood! Whence came it? Had He some wound which oozed afresh through

His dire struggle? Ah! no. "He sweat, as it were, great drops of blood,

falling down to the ground." O agonies that surpass the word by which

we name you! O sufferings that cannot be compassed in language! What

could ye be that thus could work upon the Saviour's blessed frame, and

force a bloody sweat to fall from His entire body? This is the

beginning; this is the opening of the tragedy. Follow Him mournfully,

thou sorrowing church, to witness the consummation of it. He is hurried

through the streets; He is dragged first to one bar and then to

another; He is cast and condemned before the Sanhedrin; He is mocked by

Herod; He is tried by Pilate. His sentence is pronounced--"Let Him be

crucified!" And now the tragedy cometh to its height. His back is

bared; He is tied to the low Roman column; the bloody scourge ploughs

furrows on His back, and with one stream of blood His back is red--a

crimson robe that proclaims Him emperor of misery. He is taken into the

guard room; His eyes are bound, and then they buffet Him, and say,

"Prophesy who it was that smote thee?" They spit into His face; they

plait a crown of thorns, and press His temples with it; they array Him

in a purple robe; they bow their knees, and mock Him. All silently He

sits; He answers not a word. "When He was reviled, He reviled not

again," but committed Himself unto Him whom He came to serve. And now

they take Him, and with many a jeer and jibe they drive Him from the

place, and hurry Him through the streets. Emaciated by continual

fastings, and depressed with agony of spirit He stumbles beneath His

cross. Daughters of Jerusalem! He faints in your streets. They raise

Him up; they put His cross upon another's shoulders, and they urge Him

on, perhaps with many a spear-prick, till at last He reaches the mount

of doom. Rough soldiers seize Him, and hurl Him on His back; the

transverse wood is laid beneath Him; His arms are stretched to reach

the necessary distance; the nails are grasped; four hammers at one

moment drive four nails through the tenderest parts of His body; and

there He lies upon His own place of execution dying on His cross. It is

not done yet. The cross is lifted by the rough soldiers. There is the

socket prepared for it. It is dashed into its place: they fill up the

place with earth; and there it stands.

But see the Saviour's limbs, how they quiver! Every bone has been put

out of joint by the dashing of the cross in that socket! How He weeps!

How He sighs! How He sobs! Nay, more hark how at last He shrieks in

agony, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" O sun, no wonder

thou didst shut thine eye, and look no longer upon a deed so cruel! O

rocks! no wonder that ye did melt and rend your hearts with sympathy,

when your Creator died! Never man suffered as this man suffered, Even

death itself relented, and many of those who had been in their graves

arose and came into the city. This, however, is but the outward.

Believe me, brethren, the inward was far worse. What our Saviour

suffered in His body was nothing compared to what He endured in His

soul. You cannot guess, and I cannot help you to guess, what He endured

within. Suppose for one moment--to repeat a sentence I have often

used--suppose a man who has passed into Hell--suppose his eternal

torment could all be brought into one hour; and then suppose it could

be multiplied by the number of the saved, which is a number past all

human enumeration. Can you now think what a vast aggregate of misery

there would have been in the sufferings of all God's people, if they

had been punished through all eternity? And recollect that Christ had

to suffer an equivalent for all the hells of all His redeemed. I can

never express that thought better than by using those oft-repeated

words: it seemed as if Hell were put into His cup; He seized it, and,

"At one tremendous draught of love, He drank damnation dry." So that

there was nothing left of all the pangs and miseries of Hell for His

people ever to endure. I say not that He suffered the same, but He did

endure an equivalent for all this, and gave God the satisfaction for

all the sins of all His people, and consequently gave Him an equivalent

for all their punishment. Now can ye dream, can ye guess the great

redemption of our Lord Jesus Christ?

IV. I shall be very brief upon the next head. The fourth way of

measuring the Saviour's agonies is this: we must compute them by THE

GLORIOUS DELIVERANCE WHICH HE HAS EFFECTED.

Rise up, believer; stand up in thy place, and this day testify to the

greatness of what the Lord hath done for thee! Let me tell it for thee.

I will tell thy experience and mine in one breath. Once my soul was

laden with sin; I had revolted against God, and grievously

transgressed. The terrors of the law gat hold upon me; the pangs of

conviction seized me. I saw myself guilty. I looked to Heaven, and I

saw an angry God sworn to punish me; I looked beneath me and I saw a

yawning Hell ready to devour me. I sought by good works to satisfy my

conscience; but all in vain, I endeavoured by attending to the

ceremonies of religion to appease the pangs that I felt within; but all

without effect. My soul was exceeding sorrowful, almost unto death. I

could have said with the ancient mourner, "My soul chooseth strangling

and death rather than life." This was the great question that always

perplexed me: "I have sinned; God must punish me; how can He be just if

He does not? Then, since He is just, what is to become of me?" At last

mine eyes turned to that sweet word which says, "The blood of Jesus

Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin." I took that text to my chamber;

I sat there and meditated. I saw one hanging on a cross. It was my Lord

Jesus. There was the thorn-crown, and there the emblems of unequalled

and peerless misery. I looked upon Him, and my thoughts recalled that

word which says, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all

acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."

Then said I within myself, "Did this man die for sinners? I am a

sinner; then He died for me. Those He died for He will save. He died

for sinners; I am a sinner; He died for me; He will save me." My soul

relied upon that truth. I looked to Him, and as I "viewed the flowing

of His soul-redeeming blood," my spirit rejoiced, for I could say,

"Nothing in my hands I bring,

Simply to this cross I cling;

Naked look to Him for dress;

Helpless come to Him for grace!

Black, I to this fountain fly;

Wash me, Saviour, or I die!"

And now, believer, you shall tell the rest. The moment that you

believed, your burden rolled from your shoulder, and you became light

as air. Instead of darkness you had light; for the garments of

heaviness you had the robes of praise. Who shall tell your joy since

then? You have sung on earth hymns of Heaven, and in your peaceful soul

you have anticipated the eternal Sabbath of the redeemed. Because you

have believed you have entered into rest. Yes, tell it the wide world

over; they that believe, by Jesus' death are justified from all things

from which they could not be freed by the works of the law. Tell it in

Heaven, that none can lay anything to the charge of Gods' elect. Tell

it upon earth, that God's redeemed are free from sin in Jehovah's

sight. Tell it even in Hell, that God's elect can never come there; for

Christ hath died for them, and who is he that shall condemn them?

V. I have hurried over that, to come to the last point, which is the

sweetest of all. Jesus Christ, we are told in our text, came into the

world "to give his life a ransom for many." The greatness of Christ's

redemption may be measured by the EXTENT OF THE DESIGN OF IT. He gave

His life "a ransom for many." I must now return to that controverted

point again. We are often told (I mean those of us who are commonly

nicknamed by the title of Calvinists--and we are not very much ashamed

of that; we think that Calvin, after all, knew more about the Gospel

than almost any man who has ever lived, uninspired), we are often told

that we limit the atonement of Christ, because we say that Christ has

not made a satisfaction for all men, or all men would be saved. Now,

our reply to this is, that, on the other hand, our opponents limit it:

we do not. The Arminians say, Christ died for all men. Ask them what

they mean by it. Did Christ die so as to secure the salvation of all

men? They say, "No, certainly not." We ask them the next question--Did

Christ die so as to secure the salvation of any man in particular? They

answer "No." They are obliged to admit this, if they are consistent.

They say, "No; Christ has died that any man may be saved if"--and then

follow certain conditions of salvation. We say, then, we will go back

to the old statement--Christ did not die so as beyond a doubt to secure

the salvation of anybody, did He? You must say "No;" you are obliged to

say so, for you believe that even after a man has been pardoned, he may

yet fall from grace, and perish. Now, who is it that limits the death

of Christ? Why, you. You say that Christ did not die so as to

infallibly secure the salvation of anybody. We beg your pardon, when

you say we limit Christ's death; we say, "No, my dear sir, it is you

that do it." We say Christ so died that He infallibly secured the

salvation of a multitude that no man can number, who through Christ's

death not only may be saved but are saved, must be saved, and cannot by

any possibility run the hazard of being anything but saved. You are

welcome to your atonement; you may keep it. We will never renounce ours

for the sake of it.

Now, beloved, when you hear any one laughing or jeering at a limited

atonement, you may tell him this. General atonement is like a great

wide bridge with only half an arch; it does not go across the stream:

it only professes to go half way; it does not secure the salvation of

anybody. Now, I had rather put my foot upon a bridge as narrow as

Hungerford, which went all the way across, than on a bridge that was as

wide as the world, if it did not go all the way across the stream. I am

told it is my duty to say that all men have been redeemed, and I am

told that there is a Scriptural warrant for it--"Who gave himself a

ransom for all, to be testified in due time." Now, that looks like a

very, very great argument indeed on the other side of the question. For

instance, look here. "The whole world is gone after Him." Did all the

world go after Christ? "Then went all Judea, and were baptized of him

in Jordan." Was all Judea, or all Jerusalem baptized in Jordan? "Ye are

of God, little children," and "the whole world lieth in the wicked

one." Does "the whole world" there mean everybody? If so, how was it,

then, that there were some who were "of God?" The words "world" and

"all" are used in seven or eight senses in Scripture; and it is very

rarely that "all" means all persons, taken individually. The words are

generally used to signify that Christ has redeemed some of all

sorts--some Jews, some Gentiles, some rich, some poor, and has not

restricted His redemption to either Jew or Gentile.

Leaving controversy, however, I will now answer a question. Tell me,

then, sir, whom did Christ die for? Will you answer me a question or

two, and I will tell you whether He died for you. Do you want a

Saviour? Do you feel that you need a Saviour? Are you this morning

conscious of sin? Has the Holy Spirit taught you that you are lost?

Then Christ died for you and you will be saved. Are you this morning

conscious that you have no hope in the world but Christ? Do you feel

that you of yourself cannot offer an atonement that can satisfy God's

justice? Have you given up all confidence in yourselves? And can you

say upon your bended knees, "Lord, save, or I perish"? Christ died for

you. If you are saying this morning, "I am as good as I ought to be; I

can get to Heaven by my own good works," then, remember, the Scripture

says of Jesus, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to

repentance." So long as you are in that state I have no atonement to

preach to you. But if this morning you feel guilty, wretched, conscious

of your guilt, and are ready to take Christ to be your only Saviour, I

can not only say to you that you may be saved, but what is better

still, that you will be saved. When you are stripped of everything, but

hope in Christ, when you are prepared to come empty-handed and take

Christ to be your all, and to be yourself nothing at all, then you may

look up to Christ, and you may say, "Thou dear, Thou bleeding Lamb of

God! thy griefs were endured for me; by thy stripes I am healed, and by

thy sufferings I am pardoned." And then see what peace of mind you will

have; for if Christ has died for you, you cannot be lost. God will not

punish twice for one thing. If God punished Christ for your sin, He

will never punish you. "Payment, God's justice cannot demand, first, at

the bleeding surety's hand, and then again at mine." We can today, if

we believe in Christ, march to the very throne of God, stand there, and

if it is said, "Art thou guilty?" we can say, "Yes, guilty." But if the

question is put, "What have you to say why you should not be punished

for your guilt?" We can answer, "Great God, Thy justice and Thy love

are both guarantees that Thou wilt not punish us for sin; for didst

Thou not punish Christ for sin for us? How canst Thou, then, be

just--how canst Thou be God at all, if Thou dost punish Christ the

substitute, and then punish man himself afterwards?" Your only question

is, "Did Christ die for me?" And the only answer we can give is--"This

is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ came

into the world to save sinners." Can you write your name down among the

sinners--not among the complimentary sinners, but among those that feel

it, bemoan it, lament it, seek mercy on account of it? Are you a

sinner? That felt, that known, that professed, you are now invited to

believe that Jesus Christ died for you, because you are a sinner; and

you are bidden to cast yourself upon this great immovable rock, and

find eternal security in the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.