Evening and Morning
By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
June 14
Morning
"Delight thyself also in the
Lord."—Psalm 37:4.
The teaching of
these words must seem very surprising to those who are strangers to vital
godliness, but to the sincere believer it is only the inculcation of a
recognized truth. The life of the believer is here described as a delight
in God, and we are thus certified of the great fact that true religion
overflows with happiness and joy. Ungodly persons and mere professors never
look upon religion as a joyful thing; to them it is service, duty, or
necessity, but never pleasure or delight. If they attend to religion at all, it
is either that they may gain thereby, or else because they dare not do
otherwise. The thought of delight in religion is so strange to most men,
that no two words in their language stand further apart than
"holiness" and "delight." But believers
who know Christ, understand that delight and faith are so blessedly united,
that the gates of hell cannot prevail to separate them. They
who love God with all their hearts, find that His ways are ways of
pleasantness, and all His paths are peace. Such joys, such brimful delights,
such overflowing blessednesses, do the saints
discover in their Lord, that so far from serving Him from custom, they would
follow Him though all the world cast out His name as evil. We fear not God
because of any compulsion; our faith is no fetter, our
profession is no bondage, we are not dragged to holiness, nor driven to duty.
No, our piety is our pleasure, our hope is our happiness, our duty is our
delight.
Delight and
true religion are as allied as root and flower; as indivisible as truth and
certainty; they are, in fact, two precious jewels glittering side by side in a
setting of gold.
"'Tis when we taste Thy love,
Our joys
divinely grow,
Unspeakable
like those above,
And heaven begins
below."
Evening
"O Lord, to us belongeth
confusion of face . . . because we have sinned against Thee."—Daniel 9:8.
A deep sense and clear
sight of sin, its heinousness, and the punishment which
it deserves, should make us lie low before the throne. We have sinned as
Christians. Alas! that it should be so. Favoured as we have been, we have yet been ungrateful:
privileged beyond most, we have not brought forth fruit in proportion. Who is
there, although he may long have been engaged in the Christian warfare, that will not blush when he looks back upon the
past? As for our days before we were regenerated, may they be forgiven and
forgotten; but since then, though we have not sinned as before, yet we have
sinned against light and against love—light which has really penetrated
our minds, and love in which we have rejoiced. Oh, the atrocity of the sin of a
pardoned soul! An unpardoned sinner sins cheaply compared with the sin of one
of God's own elect ones, who has had communion with Christ and leaned his head
upon Jesus' bosom. Look at David! Many will talk of his sin, but I pray you
look at his repentance, and hear his broken bones, as each one of them moans
out its dolorous confession! Mark his tears, as they fall upon the ground, and
the deep sighs with which he accompanies the softened music of his harp! We
have erred: let us, therefore, seek the spirit of penitence. Look, again, at
Peter! We speak much of Peter's denying his Master. Remember, it is written,
"He wept bitterly." Have we no denials of our Lord to be
lamented with tears? Alas! these sins of ours, before
and after conversion, would consign us to the place of inextinguishable fire if
it were not for the sovereign mercy which has made us to differ, snatching us
like brands from the burning. My soul, bow down under a sense of thy natural
sinfulness, and worship thy God. Admire the grace which
saves thee—the mercy which spares thee—the love which pardons thee!