Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 372
“All hail the power of Jesus’ name,” was then sung. The Rev. NEWMAN HALL congratulated the congregation and the pastor upon the successful termination of their arduous labors, and upon their being able to meet in a building free from debt—a building not raised by taxes wrung from the community at large, willing or unwilling, but a structure raised by the free-will offerings of God’s people—of those who, recognizing the spiritual gifts with which God had endowed their friend, and were desirous that a building should be reared capable of holding as many thousands as could be conveniently reached by his rich voice. He need not say to them, what, no doubt, they were saying to themselves, “Be not high-minded on account of what you see.” He knew they felt it to be a matter, not of pride, but of deep humble gratitude to God, who condescended to permit unworthy sinners in any way to be engaged in advancing the interests of His Kingdom. He knew their earnest prayer was that the old words might be continually verified—“What house will you build for Me? I dwell in the high and holy place, but with this man will I dwell, who is of an humble and contrite spirit and who trembles at My word.” For some time, Surrey Chapel had been the largest Christian sanctuary south of the Thames. He hoped there was not a worthy member of Surrey Chapel who did not rejoice that there was a sanctuary raised more than twice as large! And even should it lead to a decrease of the number of worshippers at Surrey Chapel, yet, if on the whole, the cause of God were more advanced, it would be their duty and their pleasure to say—“Herein do I rejoice, yes and will rejoice.” Envy, jealousy, pity everywhere, were monstrous in connection with the work of God. What? Regret if others are doing more than we are? Regret that others are more useful than we? Is it not all one business—one interest? Are not all things ours? Whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas—all are ours! We are rowing the same boat against the strong tide—each of us doing our best. Shall I regret if others in the crew with stronger arms, and more vigorous strokes, are helping to send the boat more strongly against the tide, and bringing it more quickly into port? Our house is on fire, we are bringing water to extinguish the flames—shall I be sorry if my brother can handle a larger bucket, and throw a greater volume of water upon the flames? We are engaged in one grand warfare, and if we are, each of us, standing in the place our Captain has bid us occupy, and fighting bravely for Him, shall we regret it if others are more advanced in the fight, and with heavier blows, and surer aim are making greater havoc among the enemy? It might sound anomalous, but it was most true, in great enterprises every man must do his best to excel his brethren, and when he had done his best, he must rejoice that many of his brethren excelled himself. They might excel Surrey Chapel in the size of the building, and in the number of the congregation, but they did not and could not be expected to excel it in the machinery they employed for evangelization. This was the work of his revered predecessors, Rowland Hill and James Sherman, and therefore he could refer to it without any supposition of arrogance or boasting. In connection with Surrey Chapel, they had 18 Sunday evening services conducted by members of the congregation in various courts and lanes in the district—five Evangelists were maintained to go about and instruct the poor, and comfort the sorrowful. They had 12 Sunday schools with 4,500 children, and 400 teachers—four week-day schools, three sets of secular lectures going on, week by week, in different parts, for the benefit of the working classes. They had benevolent societies distributing about £400 a year in addition to the money collected at the Sacrament for poor members, and they had the Temperance Society helping all. He sincerely hoped the time was not far distant when they would exceed Surrey Chapel in all these instrumentalities and labors; when they would have 36 Sunday evening services, ten Evangelists, 24 schools with their 9,000 children, and 800 teachers, eight week-day schools, and half a dozen sets of lectures; and he trusted that this sanctuary would soon be opened for the advocacy, if the glorious temperance principle, which had rescued so many from vice and ruin. Let them always bear in mind what a Church was. It was not an institution the members of which had nothing to do but to come on Sunday, and hear comfortable sermons, and go home and discuss them, weigh the Doctrines in them and criticize the preacher. He knew their minister would be the last to encourage them in a namby-pamby sort of religion of that kind! No, the churches were to be arsenals where the weapons of love were stored with which they were to attack the enemy round about—grand depositories of Christian enterprise; a glorious propaganda, every member a member of the society of Jesus—not leaving it to the pastor to be the only Evangelist, but every man saying to his neighbor, “Know you the Lord God.”
What an interesting sight was the opening of a new sanctuary! How one’s thoughts looked forward! What important events would take place in this sanctuary in the course of years—events that might not be chronicled in the history of this world, but in which angels would take the very deepest interest! Here the people of God, worn and jaded by the toils and cares of life, will come to be refreshed with the heavenly manna, and the invigorating streams of the River of Life. Here the sorrowful and downcast will feel their burdens lightened, and be able to say to an old Yorkshire working man, a friend of mine, “Ah, it is blessed work, Cross-bearing, when it’s tied on with love!” Here those who come tormented with doubts and fears, will see the clouds dispersed, and feel their anxieties removed. Here the tempted, carried down headlong by the tide of peril, will see the hand of love stretched out, and grasping it by the hand of faith, will be drawn up unto the firm land of salvation! Here souls dead in trespasses and sins will hear the voice of Jesus, Come forth! There will be many a cry, “What must I do to be saved?” There will be many a prayer heard, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me!” Here the saints of God will be trained for a better sanctuary. Angels will often hover over this spot and carry up the glad tidings, “Behold, he prays!” I seem to see the ladder that Jacob beheld let down from Heaven—angels are coming up and down, blessings are descending, and prayers and praise are ascending; and Jesus the Redeemer is above, seated at the right hand of Power, making all-prevalent intercession for His people. Oh, may this be the consecration that shall hallow this Tabernacle! Never may Ichabod be written on these walls! Never may there cease to be preached here, and loved here, the pure, the simple, the all-glorious Gospel of the Grace of God—the Grace of God revealed to all transgressors! The size of the building seems to me in glorious harmony with the glorious character of the Redemption that we preach. It seems impossible to speak of a straitened and limited theology in a spacious building so vast as this. No, as Dr. Chalmers says, “In the commission we have received to preach the Gospel to every creature, there is no frozen limitation, but a munificence of mercy, boundless as space, free and open as the expanse of the firmament.” I am persuaded that never will there be so great a multitude gathered together here that your minister will hesitate to proclaim a Christ for every man, declaring that all who believe shall be saved, and that none shall be lost except those to whom it is said, “You will not come unto Me that you might have life!” Christ—Christ Crucified, the only foundation of the sinner’s hope, the only secret of the Believers’ life and joy! This, my Friends, is the true palladium of the Church. “Here,” as old Oliver Crom- well says in one of his letters, ‘here would I rest, and here only.’” It is not our sect, however we may prefer it— Episcopacy, or Independency, or Presbyterianism, or Methodism. It is not the having a Liturgy, or the having free prayer; it is not a gorgeous ceremony, and it is not a Scriptural simplicity; it is not much water or little water—it is not the adult immersion or the infant sprinkling—no, it is Jesus exhibited in the pulpit, honored in the worship, manifested in the lives of all the people that is the glory of the Church—and without that there is no glory. It is not the splendor of architecture, nor your glorious portico, and majestic columns—not this graceful roof, and these airy galleries, and these commodious seats so admirably arranged for worship and for hearing. It is not the towering dome, or the tapering spire emulating the skies. It is not clustering columns and intersecting arches through which a dim religious light may wander—it is not all these—though I do not despise the beauties of architecture—which is the glory of the Church. Nor is it the splendor of the pew, though wealth and fashion and learning may be there, and overflowing numbers crowd the sanctuary. It is not the splendor of the pulpit—the eloquence that can wave its magic wand over a delighted audience till every eye glistens, and every heart beats with emotion—the erudition that from varied stores of learning can cull its illustrations to adorn the theme—the novelty of thought and sentence, and argument that can captivate the intellect and satisfy the reason—the fancy that can interweave with the discourse the fascinations of poetry, and the beauties of style. No, it is not any one of these, nor all of these together! It is Christ in His real and glorious Divinity; Christ in His true and proper Humanity; Christ in the all and sole sufficiency of His Atonement; Christ in His in-dwelling Spirit, and all-prevailing intercession. This is the glory! And without this, though we had all other things, Ichabod must be written on the walls of any church. This is the true Ark before which alone Dagon falls prostrate. This it is that gives us a glory greater than that which the Temple of Solomon ever possessed. For here we have the living manna upon which we may feed. Here we have the true Mercy Seat. Here we have the real Sacrifice—He who takes away the sins of the world! Here we have constant miracles. What? Will they tell us there are no such things as miracles possible? There are miracles— actual, glorious miracles taking place continually, verifying the Truth of our Christian system. The eyes of the blind are still being opened! The ears of the deaf are still being unstopped! And the lame man still leaps as a hart, and the dead man sepulchered in his sin comes forth to live a life of holy obedience and grateful love! Because I know this Gospel of Christ Crucified is preached, and will be preached and manifested here, therefore I say there is no enchantment against Israel, there is no divination against Jacob. “How goodly are your tents, O Israel and your tabernacles, O Jacob.” Peace be within these walls, and prosperity within these palaces. For my Brother and companion’s sake, we all of us now say, “Peace be with you.”
Mr. SPURGEON proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman and to the various ministers, observing that large as the place was, and preaching as he did a great Redemption, yet every pillar was made of iron, firmly fixed and immovable, and he hoped to preach a sure, settled Covenant Gospel, and not a frail and failing one. The thanks were carried by acclamation. The Doxology was sung and the meeting separated.