Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1937
“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7.
IN what state of heart should we come to the Communion Table? It is no light matter—in what manner shall we come before the Lord in so sacred an ordinance? By the very nature of the sacred supper we are taught that there should be a mixture of emotions. The bitter and the sweet, the joyful and the sorrowful are here intermingled. The Sacrifice of Christ for sin—is it more a subject of sorrow or of joy? Can we look to the Cross without mourning for sin? Can we look at it without rejoicing in pardon bought with blood? Is not the most suitable state of heart for coming to the Communion Table just this—mourning for our transgression and joy because of the great salvation? There is a double character about this holy rite. It is a festival of life and yet it is a memorial of death. Here is a cup—it is filled with wine. This surely betokens gladness. Listen to me! That wine is the symbol of blood! This, surely, betokens sorrow! In my hand is bread—bread to be eaten, bread which strengthens man’s heart—shall we not eat bread with thankfulness? But that bread is broken, to represent a body afflicted with pain and anguish—there must be mourning on account of that agony! At the Paschal Supper, the lamb of the Lord’s Passover had a special sweetness in it—yet the commandment expressly ran—“with bitter herbs they shall eat it.” So is it at this table. Here we, with joy, commemorate the Lamb of God which takes away the sin of the world—but with deep sorrow we recall the sin which, though taken away, causes us, in the recollection of it, to repent with great bitterness of heart.
Our text is the expression of one who is deeply conscious of sin and yet is absolutely certain that God can put away that sin. Thus it holds, in one sentence, a double thread of meaning. Here is a depth of sorrow and a still greater deep of hopeful joy—“deep calls unto deep.” I thought that this expression of mixed feeling might guide us as to our emotions at this holy festival.
I. I shall handle the text by making three observations. The first will be this—THERE ARE TIMES WHEN THE LANGUAGE OF A SINNER IS MOST SUITABLE TO A CHILD OF GOD. There are seasons when it is about the only language that he can use, when he seems shut up to it and he uses it without the slightest suspicion that it is out of place upon his lips and, indeed, it is not out of place at all. I suppose that everybody will agree that the language of David in this Psalm was most suitable to his condition. When he prayed, “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow,” he prayed a proper prayer, did he not? Surely no one is going to quibble with David over this petition and yet I cannot be sure. The modern way of handling the Bible is to correct it here and amend it there—tear it to pieces—give a bit to the Jews, a bit to the Gentiles, a bit to the Church and a bit to everybody—and then make it out that sometimes the old servants of God made great blunders!
We, in modern times, are supposed to be more spiritual and to know a great deal better than the Inspired saints of the Old and New Testaments. But still, I should not think that anybody would say that David was wrong, but if he did, I would reply, “This is an Inspired Psalm and there is not half a hint given that there is any incorrectness in the language of it, or that David used language under an exaggerated state of feeling which was not truly applicable to a child of God.” I think that nobody will doubt that David was a child of God and that, even when he had defiled himself, he was still dear to the great Father’s heart. I gather, therefore—I feel sure of it—that he was quite right in praying the language of this 51st Psalm and saying, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your loving kindness; according unto the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions; wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!”
Yet this is precisely the way in which an unconverted man ought to pray, just the way in which every soul that comes to God may pray. It is only an enlargement of the prayer of the publican, “God be merciful to me a sinner!” This language, so suitable to the sinner, was not out of place in the mouth of one who was not only a Believer, but an advanced Believer, an experienced Believer, yes, an Inspired Believer and a teacher of others, who, with all his faults, was such a one as we shall rarely see the likes of again! Yes, among the highest of saints there was a time with one of them, at least, when the lowliest language was appropriate to his condition! There is a spirit abroad which tells us that children of God ought not to ask for pardon of their sins, for they have been pardoned, that they need not use such language as this, which is appropriate for sinners, for they stand in a totally different position. What I want to know is this—where are we to draw the line? If, on account of a certain sin, David was perfectly justified in appealing to God in the same style as a poor, un-forgiven sinner would have done, am I never justified in doing so? Is it only a certain form of evil which puts a man under the necessities of humiliation?