Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 601
Delivered on Sunday Morning, November 20, 1864, by C. H. Spurgeon, at the Metropolitan Tabernacle Newington
Genesis 19:12.
THE angelic messengers of mercy were not only earnest to bring Lot out of the city, but in their great kindness they reminded him of an important matter which, in the alarm of the tumult without and in the surprise of their fearful tidings, he might possibly have forgotten. They suggested to his distracted heart a loving care for his relatives and friends. His wife and his two daughters were already with him in the house, but he had two sons-in-law to whom his daughters were espoused, if not married. And the angels suggest to him to make an effort to rescue these, also, from the destruction which awaited the filthy city.
In the perturbation of mind which is so usual in the renewed heart at first, it is no marvel if a man should be so taken up with thoughts of his own safety as to forget the welfare of others. Therefore I see a wisdom in the saying of the Apostle Paul to the trembling jailer, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved, and your house.” The jailer’s question was personal and confined to himself—“Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” In this we judge him not—for his own conversion must be the object of the deepest and most earnest thoughts of a convicted sinner. But Paul’s answer was large and liberal—“You shall be saved, and your house.”
There may be some here who have but lately passed from darkness to light. In the fear lest you should be mistaken, or in the joy of your new-found comfort, it may be you have scarcely begun to think of your wife, your children, or your relatives—is it not time to begin at once? Let this text come, this morning, fresh out of Holy Scripture as though it dropped anew from the angel’s tongue—“Have you here any besides?” You are yourself privileged by Sovereign Mercy and singled out for safety—have you here in the land of sin any besides? Have you not some unconverted kinsfolk, some unsaved relative, some who are written in your family register but who are not written in the Lamb’s Book of Life?
Come, Friend, think about this and give heed to the question, “Have you here any besides?” My heart is in a blaze with love to souls this morning and if there are no others who care for the salvation of their fellow men, I can truly say I agonize for conversions! Forgive me—in my excitement my thoughts should seem tame and feeble, for I have passed out of the realm of thoughts and am under the absolute dominion of my feelings. Come, Holy Spirit, come and aid my tongue which is all too feeble to express the language of my inmost heart!
I. We would observe, first, that such a question as this APPEALS TO OUR NATURAL AFFECTIONS. Surely, unless we have lost manhood, we love our kindred and desire their good! We have not yet become like the ostriches in the wilderness which care not for their young. Our flesh has not congealed into marble, nor are our hearts become like millstones. We have a very tender concern for those united to us by ties of nature and esteem them as parts of ourselves. What parent is not glad to see his children in good health? We will watch with them all through the weary night when they are ill and can we not pray for them when they are sick with sin?
It is a singular mercy when our children are born to us without deformity and in full possession of every sense. And it is a great blessing when a man can look round upon a numerous household and see them all full of cheerfulness and hope. Do we care for their bodily welfare and shall we neglect to pray that their souls may prosper? Can we see the deformity of sin without tears? Can we remark the blindness of our children towards Divine things? Can we observe how deaf they are to the admonitions of mercy? Can we discover clearly the depravity of their nature without deep grief and regret? We hasten to the best physicians when we see anything amiss and we spare no cost for their recovery.
Shall we ever be at peace, or know what rest means concerning them until we see their eyes open and the light of Jesus streaming into their souls—until we know that their tongues are loosed to tell of God’s mercy towards them—until there is formed in them a new heart and a right spirit? We are anxious to see in our children a due share of intelligence. We are very quick to notice any signs of it. And perhaps we are over anxious to remark upon their shrewdness and good sense—it is an overwhelming sorrow to a parent to discover weakness or imbecility of mind in his offspring.
But what shall we say if we cannot perceive any knowledge of Christ in our children? Shall the folly of their hearts cause us no anxiety? Does it give us no concern if they put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter, darkness for light and light for darkness? Do we seek to have them educated in the various arts and sciences and not desire that they should comprehend with all saints the love of Christ which passes all knowledge? One thing is necessary—all the rest may have a temporary necessity, but the one thing—acceptance in Christ and faith in Jesus is absolutely necessary! Can we be content when we see them neatly dressed, strongly framed and progressing in their learning, while their souls are not clothed with Christ’s righteousness and they are ignorant of the power of Divine love?