Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 633
“Come and see.” John 1:39.
“Come and dine.” John 21:12.
THE one text is in the beginning and the other at the end of John’s Gospel. There is a mystery here. Here is typified a growth which it were well for us to understand. “Come and see,” is for babes in Grace—“Come and dine,” is for strong men in Christ Jesus. We must notice the order. “Come and see,” is the beginning of spiritual life as it is the beginning of this Gospel. “Come and dine,” is a high after-privilege of the spiritual life and a blessed result of it. “Come and see,” is the Gospel’s cry to those outside its pale—it has nothing to conceal, it wears no mask, it has no most holy place into which entrance is forbidden. It has a “sanctum sanctorum,” but the way into it is open. Open and above-board in all its doings, the Truth as it is in Jesus bares its bosom secrets and cries to every passerby, “Come and see.”
The seals of the book are broken, the darkness is rolled away, the vision is open and with clarion note the invitation is issued, “Come and see.” Romanism may conceal its worship under the Latin tongue. Difficult phraseology and polished periods may hide from the multitude the teaching of professed Protestants, but the true preacher of Christ declares, “I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and Him crucified. And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power.”
The shutters of every window are open. The key is put into every lock and every door is thrown wide open. Investigation is courted upon every point—the Gospel stands at her door and says, “Come in here, come and see.” You have this short sentence, “Come and see,” as, first of all, an encouragement to enquirers. Many of you are like John’s disciples. They had heard John preach and they believed his word and when they saw Christ, to whom John pointed, they followed Him. But not knowing Him, they followed Him with a question upon the tip of their tongues—“Master, where do You dwell?” He said, “Come and see.” You also are anxious to know Christ. You have heard His Word preached by some of His witnesses and you want to know Him personally for yourselves. You have a pressing question to put tonight and Jesus encourages you to ask. No—to come and get your own answer with your own eyes. “Come,” He says, “Come and see.”
There are three ways, I think, by which persons are to, “Come and see.” One is by observation. We ought to give attention to the teaching of the Gospel, to weigh it and prove it. If it is found false we are to cast it away with decision. But if it is found worthy of our attention we are to hold it fast and never let it go. Many persons are careless. They will consider the last new novel, or they have been clamoring to get the “Life of Julius Caesar,” to see what the Emperor of the French can have to say upon that subject. But concerning Christ Crucified they have no curiosity. They frequent their place of worship without feeling enough interest in the affair to ask themselves why they go. They do not expect to understand what they hear, or if they understand it they care not whether the thing is true or not. It is nothing to them that Jesus should die.
Now surely a theme which involves eternal consequences, a matter which deals with my immortal spirit ought not to be put into the background and left to careless inadvertence. I ought, at least, to give it something like the consideration which it claims at my hands. But some look at it through colored spectacles. They are prejudiced against the Gospel. They observe it, they say, but their observation is tinctured by themselves and by their own character. Some persons make up their minds as to what the Gospel ought to be before they try to find out what it is. They do not come to the Bible, nor to the hearing of the Word in order to discover what the Truth of God is. No, they sit down and dream and fashion in their own minds just such a sort of concoction as they imagine Gospel Truth should be and everything which is contrary to this they will kick against, like the foolish ox which kicks against the goad.
It would be no use for me, in astronomy, to make an hypothesis and then go out with a telescope and say, “That star ought not to be where it is. According to my theory Jupiter ought not to have moved as he has moved and therefore I do not believe in Jupiter, nor in the stars, for I do not like their goings on.” Who but madmen talk thus? I must always shape my views to facts, and regarding the Bible as the great storehouse of facts, I must take care that I go to it with a candid and unbiased judgment. May God help me to do so. To find out what the Truth of God is, “Come and see,” but ask God to open your eyes that you may behold the wondrous things which are written in His Law.
Does anyone enquire how he can come and see in the matter of observation? We invite you, dear Friends, to a diligent reading of Scripture as one means of seeing. The worst-read book in England is the Bible. People read a verse of it, or half a chapter in the morning and think they understand it. Suppose anyone were to read a poet in that way. Let the world’s favored poet, Shakespeare, be treated in such a style as that and what man could ever appreciate his beauties? If you get a poet, say Cowper—you read “The Task” through. You do not think of snatching a line or two here and there—if you did you would be like the Greek teacher who carried a brick about as a specimen of a house which he had for sale.