Spurgeon: Sermons on Proverbs (93 page)

II. Now in the second place I want to show you that the great cure for this evil is trust in God: "The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe."

I should have thought that Solomon would have said, "The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso feareth the Lord shall be safe." That would have read very well, and it would have been quite true; but it would not have expressed the special truth that Solomon then had in his mind. It is not fear but faith that is the cure for cowardice. Trust in the Lord and you can then cry, "Whom shall I fear?" for you will feel that you have the strength of the Almighty at your back. Trusting in God, we feel that we are one with God, and so we are made strong. That strength breeds courage and enables us boldly to ask, "If God be for us, who can be against us?" That courage leads us to count the cost of doing right, and after counting it, we feel that in God's strength we can endure that, and a thousand times as much if necessary; and therefore we say "Come what may we will serve the Lord;" and with the Holy Spirit resting upon us we march boldly on to victory in his might. So that trust in God, by giving us God's strength, and consequently courage and decision, lifts us up above the fear of man.

But the point of the text may be found in another direction, namely, that trusting in God we become safe not merely from fear, but from the consequences of defying fear. "Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe." By trusting in the Lord and doing that which is right, he may be a great sufferer but he shall be safe. He will not be so great a sufferer as he would be if he followed the opposite course. Suppose that his enemies carry their opposition to extremes, they can only kill the body and after that they have no more that they can do. But suppose he were to forfeit his faith, then his body and soul would be cast into hell, which would be an infinitely greater and eternal loss. Never imagine that you can be a loser by trusting in God. Whatever risk there is in doing so, the risk of not trusting in him is far greater; and every sensible man will prefer the smaller risk. Besides, how often it happens that if a man trusts in God and acts according to his conscience, he is not a loser at all. Many have been gainers thereby, though that ought not to be an inducement. Many have said, "If we do what we feel is right, we shall lose everything;" and yet when they have dared to run that risk they have lost nothing at all, for God has helped them in the emergency. But if they should lose by doing the right thing, let this assurance comfort them, "Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe." It is much better to be safe than to be wealthy, and infinitely better to be safe for time and for eternity than to have all the comforts of life about you, but to put your soul in jeopardy.

A Christian man need never be afraid of anybody. If you are doing right you have no cause to fear the greatest man who is serving the devil. Look at Bernard Palissy, the Huguenot potter who produced such wonderful works of art. One day the king of France said to him, "Bernard I am afraid I shall be compelled to give you up to the inquisitors to be burned if you will not change your religion."
Bernard's reply was, "I pity your majesty." Only think of that, the potter pitied the king! So his majesty asked, "Why do you pity me, Bernard?" "Because," he answered, "you have said what your majesty and fifty thousand princes cannot make me say, I fear I shall be
compelled!'" Why, sirs, Palissy was the king and the king was not worthy to be the potter. A truly royal dignity dwelt in that potters soul. Are any of you young men going to allow anybody to make you say, "I fear I shall be compelled to cease worshipping with the Dissenters;" "I fear I shall be compelled to abstain from attending that little country Baptist chapel;" or, "I am afraid it might not be considered proper for me to make an open profession of religion in the town where I live?" If you talk like that I can only say, "May the Lord have mercy on your little miserable soul, and give you enough manhood and common honesty to confess what Christ has done for you!" If you really have been bought with the precious blood of Jesus Christ, and have had your sins forgiven, and have been made an heir of heaven, and are on your way to a glorious immortality, surely you cannot act the part of a sneak like that! What are you who are to dwell among the angels, you for whom there is a mansion in the skies, and a robe of righteousness and a crown of glory, are you going to play the coward like that? Why, if you act thus, you ought to be drummed out of the regiment of the Church militant, so how can you expect to be in the Church triumphant with such a miserable spirit as that? May the Lord help you to put your trust in him, that you may be saved from all fear of man!

Now to close. The last sentence of the text is true as an independent proposition. "Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe." I have not time to speak about this sentence, but I give it to you to put under your tongue as a sweet morsel as you go your way to your homes. It is not, "He that trusteth in himself;" not, "He that trusteth in a priest;" not, "He that performs good works, and trusts in them," but, "whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe." The man who is trusting in the blood and righteousness of Jesus may not always be happy, but he is safe; he may not always be singing, but he is safe; he may not always have the joy of full assurance, but he is safe. He may sometimes be distressed, but he is always safe; he may sometimes question his interest in Christ, but he is always safe.

I was astonished the other day to meet with an expression used by
Cardinal Bellarmine, who was one of the greatest Jesuit
controversialists. He closes a long argument about being saved by works with the following very remarkable sentences, which I will quote as
accurately as I can:--"Nevertheless, although the way of acceptance with God is by our own works there is a danger that men may so trust in their own works as to grow proud, which would quite spoil their works; and therefore, upon the whole, it is safest for them to rely upon the
blood and merits of Jesus Christ alone." Well done, Cardinal
Bellarmine! "Upon the whole," I mean to do that as long as I live; and oh that everyone who has ever been deluded by the doctrines of the Church of Rome would listen to the Cardinal's confession that, upon the whole, it is safest to rest upon what Christ has done! Upon the whole, it is better to trust in the Savior than to trust in ourselves! Upon
the whole, it is better to be washed in his blood than to think that we can make ourselves clean! The cardinal did not say all the truth, but I thank him for what he did say, though the truth is better put by
Solomon in my text, "Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be
safe." He shall be safe if he is sick, if he is rich, if he is poor. He
shall be safe when he dies, safe when he rises again, safe at the day of judgment, and safe throughout eternity. Oh then, come all of you and trust in the Lord, for "whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be
safe" for ever! Amen.

A Homily for Humble Folks A Sermon (No. 2140) delivered on Lord's Day, April 27th, 1890 by C.H. Spurgeon at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.

Sometimes it is necessary for a speaker to refer to himself, and he may feel it needful to do so in a way peculiar to the occasion. When Elihu addressed himself to Job and the three wise men, he commended himself to them saying, "I am full of matter, the spirit within me constraineth me"; but when Agur instructed his two disciples Ithiel and Ucal, he spoke in the lowliest terms of himself and declared that he was "more brutish than any man." Wisdom is justified of her children. Neither of these men was to blame for his opening words to his hearers. Elihu was a young man talking to elderly men of great note for learning: he saw that they had blundered terribly; he felt convinced that he had the right view of the matter under discussion, but he thought it discreet to introduce himself by modestly stating the reasons why he thought he should be patiently heard. Agur was probably a man of years and honor, and possibly his two young friends looked up to him more than was meet, and therefore his principal endeavor was to wean them from undue confidence in himself. He passed the gravest censure upon himself that his hearers might not suffer their faith to stand in the wisdom of men. I can suppose that both Elihu and Agur were equally humble--the one so modest that he felt that he needed to commend himself to gain a hearing; and the other so lowly that he feared the hearing he should win would place his personal influence in too high a place.

But did Agur really mean all he said? I cannot doubt it. Forcible expressions are not always to be understood in their strictest sense, yet I have no doubt Agur meant to describe himself as he felt himself to be apart from the grace of God. Or better and more likely, he felt thus brutish and foolish after he had been enlightened by the Spirit of God. One mark of a man's true wisdom is his knowledge of his ignorance. Have you never noticed how the clean heart always mourns its uncleanness, and the wise man always laments his folly? It needs holiness to detect our own unholiness, and it needs wisdom to discover our own folly. When a man talks of his own cleanness, his very lips are foul with pride; and when a man boasts of his wisdom, he proclaims his folly with trumpet sound. Because God had taught Agur much, he felt that he knew but little.

Especially I think the truth of our text relates to one particular line of things. This man was a naturalist. We have nothing of his save this chapter, but his allusions to natural history all through it are exceedingly abundant. He was an instructed scientist, but he felt that he could not by searching find out God nor fashion an idea of him from his own thoughts. When he heard of the great discoveries of those who judged themselves to be superior persons, he disowned such wisdom as theirs. Other men with their great understanding might be fishing up pearls of truth from the sea; as for himself, he knew nothing but that which he found in God's Word. He had none of that boasted understanding which climbed the heavens, bound the winds, and swathed the sea, and so found out the sacred name; he was content with revelation and felt that "every word of God is pure." Not in any earthly school learned he the knowledge of the Holy: all that he knew he had been taught by God's Book. He had in thought climbed to heaven and come down again: he had listened to the speech of winds and waves and mountains; but he protested that in all this he had not discovered God's name nor his Son's name by his own understanding. All his light had come through the Lord's own Word; and he shrewdly gave this caution to those who thought themselves supremely wise above what is written: "Add thou not unto his words, lest he reprove thee, and thou be found a liar." Philosophy had failed him and revelation was his sole confidence. As for himself, he did not claim that degree of perception and profundity which enabled him to think out God; but he went to God himself and learned from him at first hand through his revealed wisdom. This I take to be his meaning; but I shall not use the text in that way this morning.

Here was a man, who, whatever he really was, held himself in his own opinion and judgment to be an inferior person; and yet nevertheless was a firm believer in his God. He was not only a firm believer, but he was an earnest student of the sacred oracles. All the more because of his ignorance he pressed on to learn more and more of God. Nor was this all, he was a willing worker; for he spoke prophetically in the name of the Lord. Nor do we even end here; for from this short writing it is clear that he was a joyful truster in God. Brutish as he judged himself to be, he rose into supreme content at every thought of God. Those four points I am going to handle at this time, as the Lord may help me by his Holy Spirit.

I. The first is this--a sense of inferiority must not keep us back from faith in God. I will suppose that some one here is saying, "Surely I am more brutish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man": our text brings before us a wise man who said this of himself and yet had firm faith in God. If we have to say what Agur said, let us also trust as Agur did. If only wise men might put their trust in God, what would become of nine out of ten of us?

I hope there is nobody here so foolish as to say, "I could trust in God if I were a man of mark." Ah sirs! to be a man of mark is no help in the matter of faith. I hope no one is so silly as to say, "If I were possessed of great riches I could then come to Jesus." "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!" Nor may you say, "If I had great gifts I could trust in the Lord Christ." Talents involve responsibility, but they do not help towards salvation. Gifts may even drag a man down: only grace can lift him up. The gifted man may be so full of pride that he may never submit himself to the free grace gospel of our Lord Jesus.

I shall deal with more sensible objections than these. There are some who seem as if they could not trust Christ and believe in God because they cannot go with other men in their heights; and there are others, strange to say, who have the same difficulty because they cannot follow others into their depths.

I will have a word first with those who say, "We cannot hope to be saved because we cannot reach the heights of other men." You have marked the holy conduct of certain godly men, and setting your own imperfections side by side with their excellences you have not only been humbled, but greatly discouraged. You have concluded that you could be saved if you were like these gracious men; but that, since you fall so far short of their noble character, you must be lost. You have seen them in sickness, and marked their patience and joy, and their acquiescence in the divine will, and you have been greatly humbled, which was well; but you have also fallen into unbelief, which was not well. Since you cannot play the man under fire as these champions do, you fear that you may not hope for eternal life.

Moreover, you have listened to their prayers; you have been edified, you have been aroused, and you have also been driven to tremble. Seeing Jacob in his wrestlings at Jabbok you have cried, "Would God I could wrestle like that man; but as I cannot, woe is me!" You have noticed Daniel go to his chamber and cry unto his God three times a day, and then you have remembered your own forgetfulness and wandering thoughts in the matter of prayer, and you have concluded that you could have no hope of speeding at his throne of grace.