Another reason that some bring is one which occurs to them as if it were very satisfactory, and that is, “I cannot. No man can come, except he be drawn, and I cannot.” Yes, but you may put a truth into such a shape that it is a lie. Will you let me put that into the right shape? Every time when a sinner cannot, the real reason is that he will not. All the cannots in the Bible about spiritual inability are tantamount to will nots. But when you say, “I cannot repent,” you mean, “I will not—I will not seek, I will not believe.” Now put it honestly to your own soul, for that is what you mean, for if you would you could. If the will were conquered, the power would be sure to come with it, but the first difficulty is, “You will not”; and this is it, you will not seek eternal life; you will not escape from hell; you will not have heaven; you will not be reconciled to God; you will not come into Christ that you might have Christ. You make it as an objection, but I charge it upon you as a crime, a crime which aggravates all the rest, and is in itself a greater crime, perhaps, than all the rest put together. Ye will not come. “Do you want to come?” “Yes, but there is much I cannot do.” “Aye! but there is means provided to help you.” God the Holy Spirit helps you, yea, works mightily in you. Have you never heard of that negro servant who was sent by his master on an errand? He did not particularly like to go there. He was sent with a letter. He was back in a short time; and his master said, “Sam, you have not gone with that letter.” “No, massa.” “Why not?” “Massa couldn’t expect Sam to do impossibilities.” “What impossibilities, sir?” “I went on as far as I could massa—came to river—couldn’t swim across river—very wide river—couldn’t swim across it.” “But there is a ferry-boat.” “Ferry-boat t’other side, massa—ferry-boat t’other side.” “Did you call to the ferry-boat, sir?” “No, massa; didn’t.” “Oh! you rascal,” said he; “That is no excuse at all. Why didn’t you call for the ferry-boat? Why didn’t you call for it?” Now if that negro had only just said, “Boat, ahoy there!” the ferry-boat would have come to him, and all would have been well. It was an idle thing to say, “I cannot.” It was true, but it was false. So when I come to a point where there is something in the matter of my being saved which I cannot do, yet if I pray the Holy Spirit to work in me that I cannot work in myself, he will do it. Jesus Christ will give me “true belief and true repentance—every grace that brings me nigh.” I have only to ask for all that I want, and I shall have it. It is idle for me to say, “I cannot do it.” Nobody asked you to. Christ will give it to you; only do stand and call—call mightily, and cry with all your soul until the blessing be come. But now I must close. I want to offer just a few sentences only.
IV. A STIMULANT, to lead you to seek him who will be found of you. And the first is, “Is it not our duty to God that we should seek him?” With some persons this reflection may be important. You remember the Countess of Huntingdon, one of the most remarkably gracious women that every lived—a mother in Israel. Her conversion was to a great degree caused by this: she was a blithe and worldly lady of noble rank, excellent and amiable, and all that, but she had no thought of the things of God. She was at a ball, and the amusements of the evening were engrossing all attention, and suddenly the answer to the first question of the assembly’s catechism, which she appears to have learnt when she was a child, came forcibly into her mind, “The chief end of man is to glorify God, and enjoy him for ever.” She thought to herself, “Why, here am I, a butterfly among a lot of butterflies. All our chief end is to enjoy ourselves, to spend the evening merrily and make ourselves agreeable, and so on.” She went away smitten in her soul with that thought, “The end that God made me for I am not answering.” Now there are some minds that have sufficient in them to think of such a thing as that, and I shall leave that to fall into some honest, and good ground. Perhaps some young man will say, “Well, after all, I am not serving my Creator as I should.” You remember the conversion of Colonel Gardiner. He had lived a wild soldier’s life, and he had appointed that very night of his conversion to perpetuate a gross sin. He was waiting an hour before he went to his appointment, and he thought he saw, I think upon the wall, the Saviour on the cross, and underneath the representation of the Crucified he read these words:—
“I have done this for thee; what hast thou done for me?”
He never kept that sinful appointment. He became a soldier of the cross. Oh! I wish that some here might feel something of nobility within them that would make them feel, “It is mean to act so unjustly to God, as to prefer the trivial things of time to the weighty matters of eternity.”
The next stimulus I would offer is one of hope. “If thou seek him, he will be found of thee.” “Oh!” says one, “if I could find him, I would seek him.” When persons go to South Africa, they search for diamonds; but if any man could be assured that he would find a Koh-i-noor, I warrant you he would be one of the hardest workers there. Oh! there are some here tonight that lttle dream it, that will yet before long be telling to others what eternal love has done for them. They are very ready to sneer at it, perhaps, at this moment. They think it is impossible. The Lord doth great marvels; he bringeth down the mighty from their seat, and exalteth them of low degree. Oh! soul, the gate may not open at the first knock to thee, it may be, but it will open. Let me encourage thee. Thou shalt yet rejoice. Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty, for there is a harp in heaven that no finger shall every play on but yours, and there is a crown there that will fit no head but yours, and a throne on which no one must sit but you; the Lord hath chosen thee, and, therefore, this night he calls thee. “I have loved thee with an everlasting love, and with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.” Go thou, poor soul, to Christ, and thou shalt find it so.
But if that doth not move thee, let me give thee another stimulant, and that is the opposite one, of fear. Suppose thou shouldest never seek thy Lord; suppose thou shouldest die without a Saviour; what then? “I shall die,” sayest thou; “my soul will go before God.” What then? Why, it must be condemned, and by-and-bye thy body shall rise up—from the grave shall thy body spring, and thou in body and soul shalt stand before the bar of that great Saviour whom thou dost tonight despise. Beware, for the books will be opened, and thy rejection of Christ written there shall be read before the assembled world; and then when the earth doth rock and reel and the ungodly in their terrors ask for the mountains to cover them—when the stars fall like withered figs from the trees, and all Creation gathers up her skirts to flee away from the face of him that comes in terror, oh! what will you do? What will you do? Expire, you cannot; be extinguished, you must not; live on, you must; and in anguish that shall never abate, in despair that never shall be enlightened with a hope. “Turn ye, turn ye! Why will ye die?” Why will ye reject him? “If ye seek him, he will be found of you.” Oh! do seek him; reject him not. “How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?” Oh! who shall give me tears? Who shall teach me to speak with pathos? How shall I reach your consciences and stir your hearts? Eternal Spirit, do thou this mighty work, and win this night to thyself. O Jesu, save many a heart by this testimony of thy grace, which again and again we reiterate, “If we seek him—if thou seek him—he will be found of thee.” God bless you, for Christ’s sake. Amen.
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
