Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 647
Delivered on Sunday Morning, August 27, 1865
Psalm 112:7.
THE last month has been a peculiarly gloomy season. Evil tidings have followed on one another’s heels like Job’s messengers. Epidemics have been rampant among our families and many are the early graves which have been filled by contagious diseases. It is greatly to be feared that the cholera is stretching its wings of death and hastening to find its prey in our crowded lanes and alleys. The disease among the cattle is cutting off the herd from the stall and polluting the most substantial food of man. And it is much to be feared that the continual showers must be spoiling much of the un-crated corn and causing serious loss to farmers in the more northern counties.
In the newspapers of the last few weeks there has been a constant succession of the most fearful crimes. Scarcely have we known a period in which persons disposed to be melancholy might more thoroughly indulge their taste for the darkest apprehensions and forebodings. Cheerful as I am, I could, in some degree, sympathize with a good old saint with whom I sat a few minutes the other night. He began to lament our national sins and tremble at the presence of what he conceived to be national judgments. Though I am very far from being troubled with uneasy forecasts, yet I freely admit that old age and long experience may justly suggest to us earnest searching of heart because of the ills of the present period.
More terrible than rumor of plague or infectious disease of our cattle is the manifest fact that Popery is advancing among us with giant strides. Turn which way we will, Popery—Romish or Anglican—reeks in our nostrils! It is no longer engaged in secretly undermining our bulwarks—it has set its ladder to the wall and is scaling the ramparts! The Popish party in the Establishment, supported by the undoubted superstition of the National Prayer Book, now seeks to regain its ancient prominence while its allies without are moving Heaven and earth to win this nation to the dominion of Antichrist.
Meanwhile, there are numerous causes for mourning in the Church of God itself—many defections, many departing from first principles and fundamental doctrines—and some, who did run well, suddenly turning aside and proving that they had never run in the power and energy of the Spirit of God. If one preferred the night side of life, one might sit down and readily gather congenial shades of cloud and mist about one’s head and heart. But what good would this do? Despondency wins no victories! Let us pluck up courage and go to our knees and to our God!
Those who have laid hold on Christ Jesus and are resting in the Father’s love and power have no reason to be disquieted—should all Hell be unmuzzled and all earth be unhinged—they may rejoice with a joy undampened by carnal fear or earthly sorrow! They have found a secret source of supply from which they can draw, if all earth’s wells should suddenly run dry—for all their fresh springs are in their God! Of each Believer, when full of faith, it is true, “He shall not be afraid of evil tidings—his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.”
I. To come directly to the text. EVIL TIDINGS MAY COME TO THE BEST OF MEN—to those whose hearts are fixed and are trusting in the Lord. It may be of great service to us to remember this dreary fact, for it may lead us to let go of earthly things. Let us chew this very bitter morsel for a moment or two—there is nothing very palatable or pleasant in the recollection that we are not above the shafts of adversity, but it may humble us and prevent our boasting with the Psalmist, “My mountain stands firm: I shall never be moved.” It may stay us from taking too deep root in this soil from which we are so soon to be transplanted into the heavenly garden.
1. Let us remember the frail tenure upon which we hold our temporal mercies—how soon may evil tidings come concerning them! We rightly class our families first in our possessions. We look with delight into the faces of our children. We mark their growing abilities. We are charmed with evidences of opening intelligence—yet they may never live to manhood—their sun may go down before it is yet noon. We are, perhaps, perplexed as to what we shall do with them when they shall be old enough to be apprenticed to a trade, or initiated into a profession. But we may never have that task to care for—long before they reach that period of life they may be slumbering in their graves.
We gaze with ever fresh delight upon those beloved ones with whom we are united in the ties of wedlock, but if we gaze wisely we shall clearly see mortality written upon the fairest brow and glistening in the most loving eyes! How soon may these partners of our heart’s best affections be torn away from us! We must beware of making idols of those who are nearest and dearest, for the objects of our idolatry may soon, like the golden calf, be dashed in pieces and we may have to drink the waters of bitterness because of our sin.