This sermon has been kindly typed out from me by Christine Maciver and appears as written in the first appendix of Thomas Guthrie's Autobiography and Memoirs (1874). Although he mentions three points in his sermon outline he only records the first and third point!
Marked by Mr Guthrie
“My first Sermon as a Preacher. Preached
at Dun, 13 February 1825.”
Jonah
1:6 – What meanest thou, O sleeper? arise, call upon thy God.
In
the Old Testament writings, we apprehend, there are frequently hid, under the
mere detail of natural events, many of those grand and important doctrines
which are peculiar to the Christian religion; and we believe also that it was
on this account that many of them are detailed at such length; while to
appearance they seem only to affect the worldly prospects of one individual, or
the Jewish nation at large.
In
the sojourn of the Hebrews, for instance, in the wilderness of Arabia, we see
in that mere fact a most apt illustration of a Christian’s life; and in their
at last gaining the promised land, after many a wandering, we see a figurative
representation of that rest which remaineth for the people of God. In the raising of the brazen serpent amidst
the expiring Israelites, and in the command to look upon it and they should be
delivered from the calamity which God had sent upon them for their sins, we
surely see something more than a mere historical event which only affected
them. In the elevation of that serpent
we see the elevation of Christ on the cross; and in the command given to the
Israelites we see a command given to a diseased world to look unto him, and
they shall be saved. Deprive these
events of that application, and you rob them of the very point which renders
them so interesting to us; for what would it be for us to know that Abraham
raised his hand against the life of his only son, unless we saw in Isaac,
bound, a trembling victim, to the altar, our Saviour nailed to the cross of
Calvary, and exclaiming in the hiding of his Father’s countenance, “My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
In
like manner, it appears to us that from the most interesting points in the
history of Jonah, we may draw many a fact materially affecting us as spiritual
beings. and discover in it no faint representation of the deplorable condition
in which we are found by the Gospel. Did
Jonah disobey the command of God? So
have we, not only in Adam our federal head, but also in the daily sins with
which we stand chargeable. Did Jonah
flee from the presence of the Lord? So
have we, in forsaking him, the fountain of living waters, and hewing out for
ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water. Was Jonah, in consequence, exposed to
imminent danger? So are we in danger of
the wrath that is to come, and is never to end.
Was he wakened to a sense of his danger in a ship, where he little
dreamed of the extremity of his peril?
So the Gospel raises its warning voice, and proclaims to each living one
of us, “What meanest thou, O sleeper? arise, call upon thy God.”
We
proceed to show then:
1.
That
all men are by nature in a state of danger.
2.
The
necessity that springs from this, that they should arise and call upon their
God.
3.
What
they should call for from God.
- That all men are by nature in a state of danger
Were we
to judge of the truth or falsehood of this statement by observations upon the
conduct (not upon the professions) of mankind, we would be very apt to believe
it to be false. Men, indeed, in their
approaches to God, either in private or in public prayer, confess that their
souls are in danger of the coming wrath; but, as if the whole was a piece of
solemn mockery, this acknowledgment is made with far more indifference than a man
would show upon the loss of the merest trifle in his worldly concerns.
How many sleepless nights and how many
anxious days, how many hours of sorrow, and how many seasons of unwearied
exertions will that man pass who has discovered that he is in danger of falling
back in worldly matters; and with what earnest expectation will he watch for,
and with what joy will he hail every favourable turn in the tide of business,
until he has regained a sure and steady footing! But if the soul of man is really in danger,
do we meet it with any such marks of intense feeling of alarm on that
account? No. Or do we witness in the body of mankind any
such anxious earnestness to be delivered from the impending danger? No. If
such danger does exist, strange to tell, there is nothing in the world occupies
men less. They are more afraid of losing
a pound or a penny than their souls! One
man is occupied in business, and so completely do its cares take possession of
his heart, that not a corner is left for the concerns of his soul. From day to day, with undivided attention, he
plys his busy task; ‘tis his first thought in the morning, ‘tis his last
thought at night; it will hardly admit time for a hurried prayer, if prayer is
said at all; and even while apparently engaged in the solemn duties of the
Sabbath, his heart is in pursuit of many a worldly scheme – as if one day in
the week was too much time to spend on the eternal interests of his soul.
Now, though we do not affirm – far be it
from us to affirm any such thing – that all men have equally lost sight of the
welfare of their souls in their keen pursuit after earthly enjoyment, let that
enjoyment be what it may, - still, we can appeal to every mind, without fear of
contradiction, if the great body of mankind do not appear to live just as if
their welfare through eternity was a matter too sure to be questioned; and just
as if, therefore, their well-being in time was the only remaining object of
their care. But notwithstanding that our
conduct in general gives very little proof of our apprehension of danger, we
find most unquestionable authority that the curse of a broken law has gone
forth against us, and that the punishment of a broken law awaits the closing of
the day of God’s forbearance.
He who stands charged by his conscience
with the guilt of one single sin, stands exposed to the curse of an offended
law. He who hath offended in one point,
is guilty of all. Do not then entertain
the delusion which is too apt to gain an easy admission into our hearts, “Have
I been such a sinner as to expose me to danger?” but recollect that it rather
is, “Have I been a sinner at all?” So
averse are we to believe that there is nothing before us but a fearful looking
for of judgment, so humbling is it to the human pride, so contrary to all our
notions of human dignity and human worth, and so pregnant with every feeling
that is calculated to disturb the false peace of our slumbers – that, rather
than submit to endure all the horrors of a sense of danger, and all the degradation
of such a humbling doctrine, we will institute some favourable comparison
between ourselves and others – forget our own sins and increase the guilt of
theirs, magnify their defiance and lessen our own; and then, in the full belief
that, though danger greatly hangs over them, it cannot surely have the same
threatening aspect to us, thank God, like the Pharisee of old, that we are not
as the publicans and sinners.
But we appeal to yourselves if it would
not be a most strange and a most unwarrantable ground of confidence in a robber
to believe, because he was not a murderer, that therefore he had nothing to
fear; to waste his days in idle amusement, instead of applying through every
channel for the exercise of mercy; and to make his cell a scene of thoughtless
and of wanton riot, instead of solemn and serious reflection, just because he
was not chargeable with the guilt of a fellow criminal by staining his hands
with human blood. If, then, such a mode
of reasoning would be false and absolutely ruinous in the case of a criminal
who has trampled upon human laws, how
much more certainly fatal will it be in the case of us who have despised the
counsel and defied the power of God?
Until the words of the sentence are passed
by an earthly judge, absurd as it may be to entertain it, still a feeble gleam
of hope may be seen in the darkness of a criminal’s prospects. It is possible that the evidence against him,
though apparently decisive, may still fail in some important particular; it is
possible that some means of escape may be tried with success before the day of
his doom arrives; and it is still further possible that though both of these
grounds of confidence prove false, still the compassion or the weakness of his
judge may plead or act so strangely in his favour that he may gain a full and
honourable acquittal. But to us, as
offending criminals against a Divine law, there are no such favourable
possibilities. It is not possible that
the proof against us can be deficient, for if one sin – instead of ten thousand
which we must all acknowledge – be brought home to your conviction, then the
curse falls upon us, as those who have not continued in “all things which are
written in the book of the law, to do them.”
Neither is it possible that any door of
escape can be opened to us, though we were to wander in search of it through
boundless space; for where can we go from God’s Spirit, or whither flee from
his presence? Does death require, think
you, the slow hand of disease to effect his purpose? Does he require slowly and gradually to
undermine the foundations of our life, or may not he rather get possession of
it by an unexpected assault? Might not
the inhabitants before the flood have purposed the same thing when the waters
overwhelmed them in universal destruction?
Might not the dwellers in Sodom and Gomorrah have made an equally fine
resolution when the heavens rained fire and brimstone on their devoted
heads? Might not Korah and his ungodly
company have been engaged in forming some such purpose when the earth clave
asunder, and closed over them forever?
Might not every sinner have satisfied the demands of his conscience by a
similar purpose, who has, still, been hurried from the scenes of business or of
pleasure, without time even for a prayer for mercy, into the solemn presence of
an unbending Judge? But even though
accident were not to sweep us to another world, ill-prepared to give in our
account, still any resolutions of death-bed reformation cannot do away with the
necessity that lies on us to awake at present, and call upon our God.
If we believe that the last hours we spend
on earth are the best fitted to prepare for heaven, surely gross darkness has
come upon us. That soldier, we
apprehend, would have very little prospect of success, who deferred to buckle
on his armour till the blows were falling upon him. That sailor, we apprehend, would have very
little prospect of escape who, though the storm was seen from afar, still
refused to seek some place of refuge until it came roaring and raging on in all
the horrors of its destruction. And
certainly we do apprehend that he who defers his escape from the dangers of the
coming wrath until the hand of death shall be laid upon him, stakes his immortal
spirit upon a less probable circumstance than any but a madman would stake the
merest trifle of his worldly goods.
Death is a scene, not of preparation, but of conflict – a solemn and a
fearful conflict in the hour and with the powers of darkness. And oh! if the Christian who has long struggled
with his spiritual adversaries, who has long wielded the sword of the spirit,
who has long known how to use the shield of faith – if this well-tried and
veteran soldier be hardly able to withstand in that evil day, how can success
attend upon him who has newly enlisted under the Christian banner, and been all
his lifetime a slave of sin?
We do appeal to yourselves if that is a
fit time to escape from the wrath to come, when the poor, expiring sinner is
hardly able to lift his head under the load of his sickness, or when he is
tossing in agony, or when he is buried in a lethargy so profound that no answer
is given to the questions of affection and friendship, or when, in the ravings
of a wandering mind, his loud and unearthly laugh startles the silence of the
chamber of death? If, then, you feel any
interest for the welfare of your soul through eternity; if you feel any desire
to meet God, not clothed in the terrors of an offended lawgiver, but welcoming
you with the love of a reconciled Father; if you feel any anxiety to escape the
worm that dieth not, and the fire that is never quenched, and to possess the
glory that fadeth not, and the inheritance that is never corrupted, repose no
longer in your fatal slumbers – awake and call upon your God with all the
earnestness of those who know not but this very night their souls may be
required of them.
3.
What should be sought or called for from God
The nature of the danger under which we
lie decidedly shows that the main object we have to seek must be to escape from
eternal wrath; and he who has reflected at all upon the character of God, or
the means by which we have brought ourselves into this dangerous condition,
ought to know that there is no way of escape but by the pardon of our sins.
The only difficulty, then, we apprehend,
is concerning the means by which this pardon is to be obtained; or the only
question is, are we to arise and call upon God for the pardon of our sins,
solely and exclusively upon the merits of Christ’s righteousness, or also upon
some fancied virtue in our own obedience?
Now, far be it from us to take upon ourselves to judge of any man’s
obedience, that being a matter which rests between him and his God; but still,
upon the authority of Scripture, we are warranted to assert that a man’s own
obedience or his own righteousness is nothing better than filthy rags, that by
it he cannot be justified before God, and that, therefore, he who trusts to it
leans upon a broken reed. Were the robe
of Christ’s righteousness too narrow to cover us, then we might be excused for
putting on filthy rags; were His merits too inconsiderable to justify us before
God, then we might not be so much to blame for adding our own works, poor, and
wretched, and unprofitable as they have been; and were His rod and His staff
not able to support us, even in the valley of the shadow of death, it would be
something like a pleasing delusion to believe that we would be the better of a
broken reed. But, persuaded as we are
that the righteousness of Christ is the only robe of salvation which will
ensure our acceptance with God, persuaded as we are that His merits are so vast
that no demerit can be too great which they will not atone for, and persuaded
as we are that His rod and His staff are able to console a more disconsolate
sinner than ever yet man has been, we hold that he who goes about to seek any
other means of escape than this sows the wind and shall reap the whirlwind.
We are indeed sensible that there is
something very pleasing in the idea that, as it was by our own deeds that we
fell, so by them we shall also rise; that there is something very flattering to
our own vanity in the notion that we have obtained an occasion for boasting;
and that, therefore, in calling upon you to seek salvation from the hand of
another, we have to contend with the natural pride of a depraved heart. But why give heed to the very suggestions
which first brought ruin upon our race?
Why stand upon such idle fancies when the salvation of your immortal
spirit is at stake?
If your eyes are then opened to the storm
of divine wrath which, like a black lowering cloud, is about to pour its
thunders on your devoted head; if you feel yourself naked, defenceless, and
unprepared to brave its fury – seek, we beseech you, the righteousness of Jesus
Christ as a covert from the storm and a shelter from the tempest. If you feel yourself to be a traveller in a
barren and cheerless desert, where no cloud of mercy interposes to shade you
from the sun of God’s anger, where your vigour is dried up, and your strength
is withered away before it, where your hopes begin to decay and your spirit is
sunken within you – seek, we beseech you, the righteousness of Christ as the
shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
If you feel yourself tossed on the billows of despair, and, looking
around for some signal of hope, your eye meets nothing but a troubled heaven
and a raging sea, and your ear hears nothing but thunder’s echoes and the
rushing of mighty waters that threaten your destruction, and now you begin to
think that the next wave will send your feeble bark to the bottom – then seek,
we beseech you, the righteousness of Christ as an anchor of hope within the
vail.
There is no aspect, in fact, in which your
danger can be viewed in which the righteousness of Christ does not appear fit
for your deliverance. Are you under the
bondage of sin? The price of your
redemption was paid on Calvary. Is there
a handwriting against you? It was nailed
with your sins to a Saviour’s cross.
From the crown of the head to the soles of the feet are you wounds and
bruises and putrefying sores? There is a
balm in Gilead and a Physician there.
Are you defiled with sin and loathsome in your iniquity? There is a fountain opened in Israel for sin
and for all uncleanness.
Seek, then, the righteousness of Christ as
it consists of that perfect obedience by which He made honourable a dishonoured
law, and of that full suffering by which He satisfied the unsatisfied demands
of Divine justice; seek it (as ruined) by that faith which is the gift of God;
seek it as the groundwork of every blessing which will perfect you in holiness,
and prepare you for heaven. For, if you
have sought this best of all blessings with success, you are not only delivered
from a fearful looking for of judgment, but you are warranted to make incessant
application at the throne of God for grace to help you in every time of need;
not only are you delivered from the danger of eternal death, but you are
authorised to call upon God for means of escaping from those wiles of the devil
in which he would hold you for a season in spiritual death.
We know, indeed, that upon the imputation
of Christ’s righteousness our spiritual enemies are driven from the citadel of
our heart; but still we know that, like an enemy unwilling to give up the
conquests they had won, they look about and watch every opportunity to make an
inroad upon the Christian’s peace.
Assailed as he is thus on the one hand by Satan and his emissaries, and
on the other by the still lingering depravity of a once deeply depraved heart,
if left to himself his life would be one continued scene of conflict and
defeat; and hence, therefore, if we would not dishonour the Christian cause,
and bring disgrace upon the Christian name – if we would not crucify our Lord
afresh, and again expose him to an open shame – if we would give no occasion
for an unholy shout of triumph from the dark and deadly host that is encamped
against us – and if we would stand triumphant against that terrible array,
defying all the power and hatred of hell – we must do all this by seeking and
obtaining aid of the Holy Spirit.
Though we may feel, by the power of a full
assurance of faith, that the glories of the new Jerusalem cannot fail of being
ours, still the path that leads to them is one of no common difficulty and no
common danger. The man of the world may
pass the time of his sojourn here without once feeling an internal struggle,
without once smarting under the sting of an accusing conscience, and without
once being awakened from his dream of pleasure till he awake to find that he
had dreamed of peace and now no peace is to be found: but you who have chosen
the Christian course have chosen a life of no ruinous and inglorious ease; your
path is beset with the wiles of the devil, your feet are surrounded by his
snares, and you are continually exposed to his open assaults. Slumber not, therefore, for this is an
enemy’s country; repose not, therefore, for this is not the place of your rest;
watch for your souls, watch for the cause, and for the honour of your God; and,
as you mingle in the spiritual conflict, cry mightily unto the Lord, that the
power of His Spirit would rest upon you, that His grace would be made
sufficient for you, and His strength be perfected in your weakness.
