Coming to Christ - Part
1 (1)
A Sermon by Samuel Miller
John 6:37b. Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.
This is one of the most precious texts in the Bible. I do not speak as if any
part of that blessed book might be regarded as of little value. It is all "more
to be desired than gold, yea than much fine gold". The believer at least can
testify to this. His comprehensive language is that of the Psalmist: "I esteem
all Thy precepts concerning all things to be right", and therefore "I rejoice
at Thy word, as one that findeth great spoil". In his eyes, and in his experience,
even the most alarming denunciations of the inspired record are exceeding precious;
aye, more precious by far than the most sweetly-distilling accents of mercy to
many a heedless ear, for "the full soul loatheth an honeycomb, but to the hungry
soul every bitter thing is sweet". But the single short sentence before us contains
so much of the rich marrow and essence of redeeming love that it seems to hold
within it the concentrated savour and preciousness of the whole gospel of grace.
Take every other verse of the Scriptures away and leave only this, and there
is revealed by it a foundation sufficient for a world of souls to build their
hopes on and never be put to shame. Let the trembling soul rest firmly on this
living rock; then the floods may surge and the storms may beat, earth may scorn
and hell may rage, but it cannot perish.
Precious in itself, how much more precious still when standing in connection
with other sure words of truth! Join these two texts together and you will
see what I mean: "Salvation is far from the wicked"; "Him that cometh unto
Me I will in no wise cast out". As thy soul liveth, the first dread word is
true; how awfully alarming! But as the Lord liveth, the second glad sound is
equally true; how glorious is the news! It is the Lord of glory Himself that
speaks it. Would that all would hearken, for He cries to all, "Unto you, O
men, I call, and My voice is to the sons of men".
Impenitent sinners, hear. Whether ye will hear or whether ye will forbear,
ye are "nigh unto cursing", nay, ye are all already under the curse of an insulted
God. This is what the Lord of truth says of you, and will you not tremble?
But the same Lord in my text says unto you, Come and I will receive you. Will
you melt?
Alarmed souls, hear. Are you like the troubled sea that cannot rest? Would
you give all the world for a door of acceptance and peace with God? You are
just seeking for what the text unfolds. You wish to learn, and here from the
Saviour's own mouth you do learn that you shall not be cast out if you come
to Him.
Desponding believers, listen. Are you full of doubts and darkness and perplexity,
seeking for an experience of acceptance, and mourning because you have not
attained it? Is not Christ's word fully as trustworthy as your own experience?
Cling to that word, as the text declares it, and your experience of its truth
must of necessity follow.
Rejoicing saints, attend. Have you "peace in believing"? Are you "rejoicing
in hope of the glory of God"? And how do you know that you are not deceiving
yourselves with a vain fond fancy? Is it not because the reason of the hope
that is in you has its sum and substance in the text? Does not your glad heart
ever turn to it and say, I believe what my Saviour spoke - yea, spoke to me: "Him
that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out".
Now in these words we have, first, a person pointed out; second, an assurance
given to him. Let us endeavour, as plainly as possible, to open up the Saviour's
words, by illustrating these two points in their order.
1. The person pointed out. The Redeemer describes him briefly as "him
that cometh to Me".
This at once raises the question, What is meant by coming to Christ? The expression
is simple, and surely it describes a very simple matter, when even babes and
sucklings exemplify it, according to that tender entreaty: "Suffer little children
to come unto Me, and forbid them not". Yet, simple though it be, the carnal
heart most grievously mistakes its real meaning, for it is one of those things
of the Spirit of God which the natural man understandeth not, neither can he
know it, because it is spiritually discerned. O that the Lord Himself would
show it unto us and constrain us to do it while I endeavour simply to illustrate:
1. What coming to Christ is not; for a fearfully common and fatal mistake
upon this vital matter is that men put the shadow for the substance, the appearance
for the reality, the name of the thing for the thing itself. For instance,
a sinner may be so far convinced of the necessity and propriety of coming to
Christ as to think of setting about it. I will arise and go, says he, but where
am I to find Him? And the first ready answer that meets him is, In the Bible.
The poor sinner therefore thinks that he has nothing more to do than to "search
the Scriptures". He learns that Christ is to be met with in His Word, and therefore
he begins to be somewhat diligent in observing the precept, "Give attendance
to reading". And thus, alas, he satisfies himself that all is well.
But surely there is a fatal error here. The Scriptures are not Christ; they
are only "they which testify" of Him, and hence coming to them cannot
be the same thing as coming to Him. They point out the Saviour, but
going to the finger-post is a very different thing from going to where it points.
On every page of the Bible is this inscription, Look to Jesus; but many
look at that inscription and read it every day who sadly deceive themselves
that, by looking at it, they are looking at Him of whom it speaks. That striking
passage, John 5:39,40, has been, and very properly may be translated, "Ye do search
the Scriptures . . . but ye will not come to Me that ye might have life".
Just as if the Saviour had said, "Ye do come to My book, but ye will not come
to Myself". An awful word to Bible readers that rest contented with their Bible
reading! How many do thus read the Bible to their condemnation! Is it thus
with you?
In the same way, since it is most true that the Lord dwells in His holy temple
and is assuredly to be found there, many vainly flatter themselves that by
coming to the house of God they really come to Christ. And yet is it not contrary
to common sense to say, or to suppose, that the house and He that dwells within
it are one and the same? Believe me, it is not enough to draw near to the sanctuary;
we must draw near to the Lord in the sanctuary. True it is that attendance
on the ministrations of the gospel is a graciously appointed means, which God's
blessing makes instrumental in bringing sinners to Jesus. But it is nothing
more than a means to an end; it is not the end itself. The end of the
gospel is: Come to the means of grace in order that you may be persuaded to
come to the fountain of grace; come to His house in order that the voice of
love there heard may stir you up to come to Himself; come thus far that you
may learn the necessity, the duty, the privilege of coming much farther. With
thousands of them that are "heavy laden", frequenting His courts is all the
compliance yielded to the Saviour's call, "Come unto Me". Are you among that
number?
Think of these solemn texts: "When ye come to appear before Me, who hath required
this at your hands, to tread My courts?" "They come unto thee as the people
cometh, and they sit before thee as My people, and they hear thy words, but
they will not do them." "This people draw near Me with their mouth, and with
their lips do honour Me, but have removed their heart far from Me." I believe
many come to Christ's ordinances to quiet their consciences for not coming
to Christ Himself.
But some perhaps may think: If I come to the throne of grace with praise and
prayer, that is surely coming to Christ. Ah, mistake not. Prayer itself is
nothing more than an ordinance. The throne of grace is not grace; much less
is it the fountain of grace. Put none of the Saviour's institutions, however
blissful they may be, in the place of the Saviour Himself. Prayer is a sweet
well of salvation, but it is not salvation - it is not the Saviour. You may
come to it, and find it a "fountain sealed", unless you meet Jesus there to
open it unto you. Or you may daily cast your pitcher in, and grow old in drawing
nothing up if, in the exercise, you keep at a distance from Christ Himself,
who alone can fill it; for He cries, "If any man thirst, let him come unto
Me and drink". Once and for all, let me assure you that it is one thing to
cry unto Christ from afar, and it is quite another thing to touch the
hem of His garment, having drawn near. True it is that believers are
ever coming to Christ in prayer, but it does not follow that every prayer is
a real coming to Him. Did David, for example, say in his prayers, I have come?
Nay, but his language is, I still draw nigh - "bring me unto Thy holy
hill". So every man of real prayer just uses it as a means, and therefore he
is exercised in it as Peter was on the sea, when he cried, "Lord, bid me come
unto Thee". Calling on Him is not necessarily coming to Him, any more than
hearing Him call on us.
Nothing, I apprehend, can be more simple and obvious than all this; and yet,
in spiritual things, there is nothing to which man is more prone than practically
to lose sight of this. In order to rivet it in your minds, turn to Christ's
own personal ministry. Consider the circumstances in which the text was spoken: "Jesus
then lifted up His eyes, and saw a great company come unto Him" (v 5).
They abode with Him that day, and the day thereafter they followed Him across
the sea. They had come to Him in one sense, and yet He still found it needful
to bid them come. And have you not read how, on other occasions, they gladly
flocked around Him, came at all times and seasons, came to see His wonders,
to hear His words, to proclaim His praise, to request His interposition - came
in hundreds and in thousands, and stayed with Him for days? And yet it was
of these very men that He complained, "Ye will not come unto Me, that
ye might have life". Know ye not of one who came when he was called, sojourned
with Him as a friend for three years, learned His precious truth, was taught
by Him to pray, shared in His devotions, outwardly obeyed His commands, preached
His gospel - perchance to the saving of souls? Yet this was Iscariot who betrayed
Him and is gone to his own place as the son of perdition. Can it be said of
that disciple that he had really come to Jesus? Yet there are many gospel hearers
of whom so much cannot be said as is true of Judas, and still they rebel against
the thought that they are in any way as destitute of grace as he.
But let me not be misunderstood. I am far from disparaging means of grace,
or undervaluing the diligent use of them. It is a blessed thing to search the
Scriptures, to wait on ordinances, to pray. And would to God that gospel despisers
were brought to these hallowed exercises. But still I must affirm that it is
awful folly to rest satisfied with coming that length and no more. Satan has
no objections to bring souls thither, if he can keep them there. It is one
of his old devices to bring demoniacs to the synagogue. The carnal heart would
wish to quiet both the voice of conscience and the call of Christ: "Hitherto
shalt thou come and no further". Yes, but "no further" is a lie; for those
who stop short of Christ cannot stop short of hell.
2. Let us consider what coming to Christ is. Now, remember that when
Christ invites the sinner to come, He is addressing the spiritual part of his
nature; it is his soul that He would have to come. True compliance with the
call is therefore an inward thing; it is an activity of the heart - the arrested
and willing affections trooping forth to welcome the Saviour, the heart gushing
out to Christ and casting itself wholly and unreservedly on His bosom, crying, "I
am Thine, save me". That is true coming unto Jesus. It is the heart and soul
that Christ desires to have, and entreats to come: "My son, give Me thy heart".
Make whatever other approach to the Lord he may, so long as his heart keeps
back, the sinner remains at a distance from the Saviour. He may search the
Scriptures, he may worship, he may pray, he may spend a lifetime in nothing
else, yet if the heart be wandering far away all the while, the character set
forth in my text is none of his.
It is obvious therefore that coming to Jesus implies a forsaking of
sin. It is plain as day that when a man goes from one city to another, his
coming to the second implies his leaving the first. He cannot remain in both,
nor divide himself between the two. Now Christ and sin are represented by these
two cities. They are as much opposite to each other as east is to west; a coming
into the one must imply a coming out of the other. A heart coming to Christ,
and yet remaining wedded to sin, is alike a contradiction in terms and an impossibility
in fact. He that remains in Sodom can never set foot in Zoar. 2 Corinthians
6:14-18 is very lucid on the subject, for the text has its counterpart in that
striking call, "Come out from among them, and be ye separate . . .
and I will receive you," or in no wise cast you out.
Remember that I am speaking of the heart forsaking sin; therefore,
do not suppose for a moment that this implies leaving our sin's guilt behind
us in coming to Christ. No, in that sense we must bring our sins with us. We
cannot do otherwise. Think not that you must wait till you are free from sin
before coming to Jesus; for then you would wait for ever, and never come. We
must come as we are, that Christ may cleanse us when we come, for this is one
of the chief ends of our coming. Bring your sins with you; Christ charges you
to do so, but do not leave your heart behind you with sin.
But some burdened soul may put the question: I feel I cannot forsake my attachment
to sin before I come to Christ, and what am I to do? I answer: Most true, nor
is it required that you should renounce your love of sin before you come to
Him. If you could, you would have but little need of a Saviour; you could be
your own. But what I proclaim as the truth of God about coming to Christ is
this: that while the one does not go before the other, the one cannot
be without the other. They take place together; they are as inseparable as
light and the sun. Let me insist upon it. He that comes to Christ must renounce
sin by that very coming, else there is no truth in that Scripture, "Your iniquities
have separated between you and your God". The Lord cannot receive and bless
the soul that is wedded to, and one with, that sin which grieves His Holy Spirit.
Were it otherwise, coming to Jesus would just be insulting His holiness and
crucifying Him afresh. "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not
hear me."
But still let no one think that he must put away sin first, in order
to be in an acceptable condition to come to Christ thereafter. "This man receiveth
sinners" is ground sufficient, and the only ground, on which to look for acceptance.
Your being a sinner, and thus standing in need of Christ, constitutes your
fitness to come to Him for it. Your only, and your sufficient, warrant is His
invitation to sinners as they are. His love for sinners as they are ensures
your instant welcome. Are you a sinner, loaded and burdened with guiltiness?
Come as you are, when you hear Him proclaiming, "I came not to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance". Delay not in the vain hope of making yourself other
than you are, for if you can do so, Christ has died in vain. But think not
that you can come to Him and remain as you are, for a real coming is just a
renouncing of all unrighteousness. In one word, there is loathing of sin in
coming; there is pardon of guilt when we come.
Still further, coming to Christ implies a renouncing of self. This
follows of necessity from what has been said, for self-trusting and self-seeking
are sin. So long as we trust in our own arm to save, we will never seek after
the salvation which Christ offers; and so long as we follow out our selfish
ends, we are abiding far, and wandering farther, from Him. What saith the Lord? "If
any man will come after Me, let him deny himself." As the soul goes out from
the Babylon of sin, so it also goes out from the tottering tabernacle of self-sufficiency,
in fleeing to Christ as the strong tower. We cannot betake ourselves to Him
without seeing our own emptiness. Coming to receive all from Him implies that
we feel our need of all. We must come like the prodigal: yonder "is bread enough
and to spare, and I perish with hunger". It is for lack of this that many come
to ordinances, as we have seen, and yet come not to Christ. In self-sufficiency
they verily think that, somehow or other, their reading, their worship, their
prayers are to save them; that these, their own doings, are in some manner
to help them to acceptance with God. It is as if they said, "I will not be
cast out because I do these things", while all the time the true and only because stares
them in the face - because Christ hath done all for sinners.
I put it to your consciences: Is not this the natural reasoning of the heart?
Even the conscience of the renewed man must answer that he is often tempted
by the old man to feel as if observance of duties were to win his way to Jesus
and bring down blessings from on high. And yet I put it to the commonest understanding:
Is this not robbing Christ of His glory and thinking to take His sceptre of
salvation into our own hands. Coming to Christ is just a casting ourselves
upon Him in order that He may save, for He alone can. It is not our
reading, but finding Christ in the Word read, which profits. It is not our
worshipping, but the surrender of ourselves to Christ in the worship, that
realizes the blessing. It is not our praying, but Christ's merits pled in the
prayer, that brings down the answer. O that men would remember this, and so,
coming out of themselves, would come to Jesus.
Nor is it a less obvious inference from what we have said, that coming to
Christ implies "faith which worketh by love". Does a man, renouncing sin and
emptied of self, flee to Christ, and cast himself upon Him? That is just such
faith. If he has no love to, nor desire after, the Redeemer, he will never
come to Him; but if he has, he will not, he cannot, keep back. Coming to Christ
is a coming of the heart - another name for love. Faith establishes a union
of the soul to Jesus, surely implying that parties so united have come near.
Although so obvious, it is well to insist upon it, that real coming is believing
coming. Do you not remember that word: "He that cometh to God must believe that
He is"? The whole gospel continually repeats this, but the Saviour's own personal
teaching is specially incessant upon it, for instance: "If any man thirst,
let him come into Me and drink. He that believeth on Me . . . out of his belly
shall flow rivers of living water" (John 8:37,38). As if He had said, "If you
want salvation, come; you have salvation if you believe". Or again, Peter says, "To
whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life; and we believe and
are sure that Thou art that Christ" (vv 68,69). The passage needs no comment.
Or even more plainly still, "He that cometh to Me shall never hunger,
and he that believeth on Me shall never thirst" (verse 35). And how
plainly does verse 36 expound the essence of true coming: "Ye also have seen
Me and believed not"; that is, ye have seen Me in your outward coming,
but something is lacking in that coming, in that ye believe not. And then comes
the text: "All that the Father giveth Me shall come to Me, and him that cometh
to Me I will in no wise cast out".
The sense of the text therefore is just the same as these: "He that believeth
shall not be ashamed"; "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved"; "Look unto Me, and be ye saved"; and suchlike gracious assurances.
Indeed, it must be so. The Word of God is consistent with itself; it does not
attach salvation to things that are different. Yet salvation is coupled with
coming, believing, looking - expressions that imply the same divine work of
grace. But, remember, it is never said, Read, worship, pray, and ye shall be
saved; but salvation is sure, if in these appointed means there be believing,
coming, looking.
Behold then the simple, the very simple, gospel plan. Christ is not far from
you; He is near. He has come so close to your heart that He is standing at
the door and is knocking there even now. What is lacking but that you come
and open the door of that heart, and He is yours? Do you say that you cannot
come because you cannot change your heart? Ah, Christ's way of stating it is, "Ye will not
come". It is your will that is awanting; that is the root of your inability.
But the gospel meets you here also, for the Lord is ready to work "in you both
to will and to do". Very simple gospel! Very wondrous grace!
Endnotes:
1. The first part of a sermon from The Free Church Pulpit,
vol 1. Miller (1810-1881) was minister of Monifieth in Angus, and later of St
Matthew's Free Church, Glasgow. The second part of the sermon will be printed
next month, DV.
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