As Paul was approaching the close of his First Epistle to Timothy he warned his younger colleague of some of the characteristics of false teachers. Among these teachers were those who supposed “that gain is godliness” (1 Tim 6:5); they professed to be godly in order to further their worldly interests. Timothy was to have no fellowship with such people; rather he was to withdraw himself from them.
On the other hand, Paul went on to emphasise that “godliness with contentment is great gain”. To be contented is to be obedient to the commandment, “Thou shalt not covet”. Had he not been writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, we might have felt Paul was going too far when he claimed: “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content” (Phil 4:11). But no, Paul was not exaggerating; the Holy Spirit had been working in his heart to a remarkable degree, and he saw that his present situation, whatever it might be, was the result of God’s control of his providence. However unwelcome his circumstances, God was ruling over everything and it was all working together for his good (see Rom 8:28). Thus not only ought Paul to be content but he actually was; his was a real contentment although, while he was in this world, it could not have been perfect.
Paul’s contentment was evidence of his real godliness. It flowed from his strong sense that God is in control of everything that happens, so that not even a sparrow falls to the ground unless it is God’s will. How then did Paul react to what must have been disappointing outcomes when he appeared before Felix, Festus, and Agrippa? He must have focused, not on the injustice of the treatment he received, though that was palpable, but on God’s goodness, which would make all these decisions work out for His glory and ultimately for Paul’s own benefit and, very possibly, to advance the gospel. While it would have been very natural to become annoyed, even angry, at the judicial process, Paul could, through grace, leave everything in the hands of God, knowing that He was ordering all the events in his life, and all the affairs of the Church, in infinite wisdom.
So when writing to “the saints in Christ Jesus” in Philippi, Paul emphasised:
“I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel” (Phil 1:12). In particular, sinners had received spiritual blessings through his teaching in Rome; possibly his situation as a prisoner afforded him better opportunities to spread the gospel than would otherwise have been the case – though it would clearly have been much more pleasant to go to Rome as a free man. Paul could not normally know what was ahead of him, but he trusted the all-wise God to order his affairs. He could rest content with that ordering, and he would realise that God takes glory to Himself in everything.
Especially if we have enough to eat and enough to keep us warm, we should be content; so Paul counselled Timothy: “Having food and raiment let us be therewith content” (1 Tim 6:8). He brought out the contrast between contentment and the desire to be rich. Those who are possessed with such a desire, Paul went on to warn, “fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition”. Indeed he insisted that “the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows”. We should note that it is the love of money, rather than money itself, which is highlighted as a danger, but clearly much grace is always required to maintain a right attitude to money.
On the other hand, a proper perspective on life will help to preserve us from such dangers; Paul reminds Timothy that “we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out”. He uses this as an argument for contentment; especially if we have enough food and clothing, there is no point in murmuring because we do not have more. If we have more money than we need, we cannot take the surplus with us when we die. Did Paul have Job in mind as he wrote to Timothy? Job had lost everything, even his family, and yet he could say in a spirit of gracious contentment, “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (1:21). This godly man recognised also that God was in control, and this consciousness supported him in his time of desperate trouble.
Yet what Paul sees as great gain is not contentment as such, but the contentment that flows from godliness. John Calvin explains godliness as the service of God and adds that this is the mark which religion aims at. He then asks, “What is religion?” and answers, “It is the reverence that we owe to God, to submit ourselves wholly to His Word, to honour Him as He commandeth us, to call upon Him, to dedicate ourselves to His obedience”.1 And there can be no true godliness, there can be no sincere religion, apart from
1Sermons on the Epistles to Timothy and Titus, Banner of Truth Trust 1983 reprint, p 456.
faith. So Timothy, in his ministry, was to charge the rich not to “trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God” (1 Tim 6:17). He would also see it as his duty to charge others, including those who could never have any prospect of obtaining riches, to trust in the living God as the one who could supply all their needs, not only for time, but also for eternity. As Paul well knew, and Timothy also, to be prepared for eternity is the greatest need of all.
Counterfeit godliness could lead to no real gain, and apart from godliness there could be no lasting contentment. But, as we have noted already, “godliness with contentment is great gain”. It is what we may take when we die and must leave behind everything we possess of this world’s goods, whether that is little or much. Accordingly, considering time and eternity together, “better is little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble therewith” (Prov 15:16). The fear of the Lord is basically another expression for godliness, and John Flavel defines it as “a gracious habit or principle planted by God in the soul, whereby the soul is kept under an holy awe of the eye of God, and from thence is inclined to perform and do what pleaseth Him, and to shun and avoid whatsoever He forbids and hates”.2 Flavel was unconsciously describing himself.
Even if those who fear God experience trouble in this life – and that, as the Saviour warned them, is what they must be prepared for – they do not have to meet that trouble alone. That is part of the great gain that is theirs, particularly if they react to their troubles in a contented spirit. Paul encourages them: “Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee” (Heb 13:5).
Those whose godliness is sincere – who fear God and therefore, through grace, show a degree of contentment with the things they possess – have gained much; they have something to take away with them from this world when they must leave everything else behind. Not least, they have a right to a place in heaven. So Paul, whose focus was not on the things that are seen and temporal but on the things which are unseen and eternal, looked into the future in the knowledge “that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Cor 4:18-5:1). On the day when Paul’s soul left its earthly tabernacle, all was well. The real contentment of this life changed into perfect delight in the blessedness of heaven; the real godliness which he showed in this world became perfect also. So, if that great gain is to be ours, let us take heed to this further direction that Paul addressed to Timothy: “Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life” (1 Tim 6:12).
2 Works, Banner of Truth Trust 1968 reprint, vol 3, p 252.
Forgiveness (2)1
A Sermon by Alexander Grierson
Luke 5:20. And when He saw their faith, He said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee.
(2.) The forgiveness here bestowed is a present forgiveness. Jesus does not put him off with a promise, either conditional or unconditional, of pardon at some future time. He actually bestows it now. He does not send him back to his home, telling him to be faithful in the discharge of every duty and then to expect forgiveness. He does not say to him as Solomon said to Adonijah, who had attempted to usurp his throne, “If he will show himself a worthy man, there shall not an hair of him fall to the earth; but if wickedness shall be found in him, he shall die”. Christ does not thus put the paralytic on his good behaviour, and suspend His forgiveness upon the result. He says to him, “Thy sins are forgiven thee”. No religious rite or outward observance is prescribed. He does not send him to read about forgiveness in his Bible, or pray for it in his closet. He speaks neither of sermon nor sacrament, but He says, “Thy sins are forgiven thee”.
Nor is it a promise of future forgiveness, however unconditional or free. He does not bid him expect forgiveness at the close of life or look for mercy at the judgement day. His words secure all this and much more. They promise him a present pardon. Sentence of acquittal has already been passed on him by the lips of One who is to occupy the judgement seat at last, in these words, “Thy sins are forgiven thee”. Regarding Him it would be the highest blasphemy to suppose that He could either lie or repent.
(3). There is a feature in the forgiveness here bestowed that is still more remarkable. It contains the element of personal assurance. It is not a display, however bright or glorious, of God’s pardoning mercy or the Redeemer’s saving power or the Spirit’s sanctifying grace, as set forth in general terms, in the gospel, for the acceptance of sinners. But it is a personal assurance to this man in particular that he has actually become a partaker in the great salvation. This is by far the most wonderful feature in the whole transaction. The form in which he is addressed is so direct and personal that, if he really believed Christ to be the true Messiah, as the whole passage shows that he did, and if he understood and believed the words that Christ spoke to him, then whatever fears or doubts might formerly have oppressed him, all such
1The first part of this sermon appeared last month; it is taken, with editing, from Grierson’s Sermons. The first head dealt with the Author and Bestower of forgiveness and the second considers its nature. Only one of four points was handled under this second head; it was: the greatness of forgiveness. The rest of the sermon appears in this issue.
doubts must have given place to joy and peace in believing, when Christ said to him, “Thy sins are forgiven thee“.
It is an assurance similar to that given to David after he had sinned greatly in the matter of Uriah. The prophet Nathan was sent to convince him of his heinous sin, which he did by the parable of the rich man who would not take provision for his guest from his exceeding many flocks and herds, but took the poor man’s one ewe lamb, which drank of his own cup and lay in his bosom and was unto him as a daughter. “And David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die.” Little did David know that he was pronouncing his own doom. No sooner had the sentence been uttered than an arrow from Jehovah’s quiver pierced his heart, in the words of his messenger, “Thou art the man“; and the words that follow showed him that the guilt of the rich man in the parable which had roused his anger was as nothing in comparison with his own. “Thou hast killed Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and hast taken his wife to be thy wife, and hast slain him with the sword of the children of Ammon” (2 Sam 12:9).
Now he knew the difference between a vague general knowledge of sin, and a deep, humbling, agonising conviction of his own sins. The sin of which he was convicted was one of those which (as David well knew) the law expressly required (Lev 20:10) to be punished with death. As, in this instance, the king was the criminal, David probably expected that the God of Israel would vindicate His justice by inflicting this terrible penalty Himself. This personal conviction of sin, both in its guilt and consequences, was followed by an equally explicit confession: “I have sinned against the Lord”, and this again was followed by the assurance: “The Lord also hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die”.
And so, when Isaiah (6:1) saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up, surrounded by the seraphim, each covering his face and his feet with his wings, and crying one to another, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts,” the prophet doubtless remembered what the Lord had said to Moses: “Thou canst not see My face, for there shall no man see Me and live”. Isaiah was overwhelmed with terror and exclaimed, “Woe is me, for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts”. But what a joyful discovery was made to the prophet when one of the seraphim flew to him, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar, and laid it upon his lips and said, “Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged”.
Now, the assurance of pardon given in our text is equally as direct and
personal as that granted to David or Isaiah; the only difference is that here it is not sent by the mouth of prophet or seraph, but the Great High Priest Himself says to the paralytic, as He did to the woman that was a sinner, “Thy sins are forgiven thee”. There is a broad distinction between the general assurances, with which the gospel abounds, of mercy to every penitent, believing sinner and the particular assurance addressed to individuals in such cases as these. Such general offers of mercy are addressed to the prodigal in the far country; the particular assurance of the text belongs only to the prodigal returned, when put in possession of the tokens of his father’s favour, the smile of welcome and the embrace of love. Then he feels the joy of reconciliation thrilling through his whole soul: “This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found”.
Such is the nature of the forgiveness here bestowed. It is not partial but full, not promised at some future day, but granted now. It is moreover accompanied by a full personal assurance; it meets all the desires of the soul, and nothing less will satisfy any soul that is really awakened to a sense of sin.
3. The channel through which forgiveness was obtained by the paralytic. May it not be obtained by us still in the same way? Now, two things are very obvious in regard to the state of this man’s mind before he obtained forgiveness. He first felt his disease, for “they that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick”. And the treatment which he received shows that he was aware of his spiritual malady as well as of his bodily disease. For when Christ says to him, “Thy sins are forgiven thee”, He is conveying a boon of which the man must have felt his need if it was to be appreciated. Those who came to Christ, for mere bodily healing, obtained what they sought but went away without any higher blessing. Not so this man; he was alive to a sense of his condition, not only as a paralytic who needed healing but as a sinner seeking forgiveness.
But his conduct makes it still further apparent that he had faith in Christ as the great Physician both of body and soul. We see faith displaying itself in all its simplicity and energy, not in words but in conduct. See how it surmounts every obstacle and overcomes every difficulty that stands in its way. “And when they could not find by what way they might bring him in because of the multitude, they went upon the house-top, and let him down through the tiling with his couch, into the midst before Jesus. And when he saw their faith, he said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee.” It was his faith that was so fertile in devising a plan, and so bold in executing it; and it is such faith that removes mountains and bears down all opposition, that honours Christ and is honoured by Him in return, by receiving forgiveness in all its power and in all its preciousness.
Would you enjoy this blessed boon? Then, I ask, Do you feel your need of forgiveness as this man felt it? If so, then nothing stands between you and forgiveness but unbelief. Nothing can put you in possession of it but faith, faith in Christ as He is revealed in the gospel.
(1.) No intimation of pardon to the guilty can be found even in the most minute survey of God’s works in creation. These clearly set forth “His eternal power and Godhead”. But though we had the wings and the intellect of an angel and could survey immensity, we could never discover the doctrine of forgiveness of sin. “The depth saith, It is not with me. . . . It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof. It cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire.”
(2.) Nor can any well-founded hope of pardon be gathered from the closest scrutiny of God’s providence. Proofs that God is good, and that He delights in His creatures’ happiness, present themselves on every side. For “His tender mercies are over all His works”, and there is not one of us, whatever our temporal condition, whom the retrospect of life ought not to fill with a grateful, indeed an admiring and self-abasing sense of the Lord’s undeserved loving-kindness. We may well say in reviewing the Lord’s dealings with us, as did Jacob, “O God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac . . . I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the truth which Thou hast showed unto thy servant”.
But however grateful we may be for the Lord’s goodness, the facts of providence are utterly irreconcilable with the idea of Him allowing sin to pass with impunity. To say nothing of those extraordinary manifestations of Jehovah’s anger when He sends forth His desolating judgements upon nations in the form of war and pestilence, there is one fact of universal and perpetual occurrence. Disease enters the family circle and seizes one of its best-loved members; it refuses to be charmed away by the physician’s skill or the tears of distressed relatives, but keeps the victim in its unrelenting grasp till, after a period of suffering, death closes the scene. And when I am left to gaze on the lifeless remains of one dear to me, how can I overlook the account the Bible gives of the introduction of this mysterious thing into the world: that by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, because all have sinned. Can I at such a time found my hopes of forgiveness on anything that providence reveals of God’s moral character? Am I not rather reminded that the wages of sin is death?
(3.) I turn away from what I see in creation and providence to examine what is written in the law. It is indeed a perfect rule of duty – holy, just and good; and if I was an unfallen, sinless creature it would be a sufficient guide. But the moment I feel myself a sinner, the law utterly fails to meet my case;
there is no hint of forgiveness. It declares, “He that offendeth in one point is guilty of all”, and, “Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them”.
(4.) Shall I betake myself to the copy of the law written by our Creator on the tablet of the heart and consult conscience? But if conscience is at all quickened by the Spirit and enlightened by the Word, it owns that God’s law is reasonable and condemns the guilty transgressor. It condemns the sinner to his face, and fully approves the sentence that the law has pronounced, testifying that “they who do such things are worthy of death”. Conscience not only knows nothing of forgiveness, but as God’s sentinel in the soul it refuses to listen to any intimations of forgiveness, from whatever quarter, till He who placed it there comes and speaks peace to the soul. John Owen has finely said: “If a man of courage and honesty be entrusted with the command of a garrison to keep a fortress against an enemy, let one come in and tell him that peace has been concluded between his country and their enemies, so that he may leave guard, set open the gates, and cease his watchfulness; how wary will he be, lest under this pretence he be betrayed. No, saith he, I will keep my hold until I have express orders from my superiors. . . . Hence conscience labours with all her might to keep its whole dominion, and to keep out the power of forgiveness from being enthroned in the soul.”
Who has ever conversed with an awakened sinner and has not felt the truth and justice of this? You may try to relieve his anxieties, and labour to gain an entrance for the sweet consolations of the gospel, but all the promises in the Bible of pardon, for even the chief of sinners, will fail to pacify his troubled conscience till the Lord of conscience Himself appears, sprinkles it with His own peace-speaking blood, and says to the troubled soul, as He did to the troubled sea, “Be still”. Then there is a great calm.
Now, the pardoning mercy of God is sought in vain in the works of creation and the ways of providence, in the law written on tables of stone or graven on man’s heart. It is revealed with great plainness in the gospel. Forgiveness of sins through the blood of Christ forms the very essence of its glad tidings and can only be apprehended by faith. It is a doctrine of pure revelation; we have no source of information but the testimony of God, and if we do not set to our seal that God is true and rest on His simple Word in this matter, we must for ever continue strangers to forgiveness. Prior to our experience of its power, we have no witness to it but the Word and Spirit of God. Hence the Apostle says, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him” (1 Cor 2:9), and forgiveness is one of these things. How then is knowledge of them to be attained? The Apostle adds, “God hath revealed them unto us
by His Spirit”; the Spirit makes this revelation to faith. In the gospel, “the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith.”
The gospel does not indeed reveal to anyone in particular that his sins are forgiven. But the grounds of forgiveness as laid in the sufferings and death of God’s dear Son are sure and broad; its offers gloriously free; its invitations earnest and oft-repeated; its assurances of welcome abundantly full. “Be it known unto you, therefore, men and brethren, that through this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins; and by Him all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses.” Here, surely, is sufficient warrant for each one to appropriate forgiveness, and though you may not yet have the full consciousness that you possess it, you have every encouragement to stretch out your hand and receive it. But the eye of faith is feeble, and its hand withered. Seek that your eyes may be anointed with the unction of the Spirit; pray that your withered hand may be strengthened with almighty power so that you may grasp the precious boon; never relax your efforts, or remit your prayers, till you can say assuredly, “I know in whom I have believed”.
Meanwhile, your condition resembles that of a merchant who has all his wealth in a far country and is seeking to bring it home. If it arrives in safety, he is rich; if it miscarries, he is ruined. A letter arrives informing him that his treasures are safely on board the ship that is to convey them home, and this good news from a far country is as cold waters to his thirsty soul. Still his anxieties are great, when he considers the hazards of wind and tide, and remembers that his all is at stake. He looks and longs from day to day for tidings of their arrival; and not until the ocean has been crossed, the ship has reached the harbour, and her precious cargo secured, is his mind at rest.
So is it with the soul seeking the pearl of great price. The gospel report, that there is forgiveness with God, is precious; he loves to hear it preached; he watches against sin and temptation, lest he should have received the grace of God in vain; he attends the means of grace diligently and is gladdened with every fresh gale of the Spirit that may further the expected return from the land of promise. When it actually arrives, when the Spirit testifies with his spirit that he is forgiven, a child of God and an heir of heaven, he rejoices “with joy unspeakable and full of glory”. Surely one such feeling of God’s favour and love, in his experience, even if only at the hour of death, is abundant reward for the faith and patience, waiting and obedience of a whole lifetime. “Let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord”, for “blessed are they that keep His testimonies, and that seek Him with the whole heart“.
4. The evidence by which forgiveness was accompanied and followed.
The forgiveness was spiritual and invisible, what faith alone could apprehend;
but the cure wrought on the body was palpable to all. Christ appeals to the latter, not as an illustration of His spiritual power, but as a proof or evidence of it. “But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, (He said unto the sick of the palsy), I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go unto thine house. And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God.” The connection between the act of forgiveness and the bodily cure, as appropriate evidence, becomes plain when we consider the connection between sin and disease. Though we must not estimate the sinfulness of individuals by the extent of their bodily sufferings, yet all bodily suffering is the effect of sin.
Now the purpose for which the Son of God was manifested was “that He might destroy the works of the devil”. Sin, the devil’s work, has affected both the souls and bodies of men. By satisfying God’s justice for sin, Christ has gone, as it were, to the fountain-head, and “made an end of sin”. So He has power to counteract all the evil consequences that flow from it. He has power to dispossess Satan of all his strongholds, both in body and soul; and by removing the effects of sin on the body, He proves His power to remove the invisible effects of sin, and to destroy sin itself in the soul. The same connection between the removal of the visible and invisible effects of sin is pointed at by Isaiah: “The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick: the people that dwell therein shall be forgiven their iniquity” (33:24).
Now, in every instance in which forgiveness is bestowed upon a sinner, it is accompanied by appropriate evidence of its reality, in the experience and life of the sinner. You may not, like the paralytic, suffer bodily disease, but the leprosy of sin has overspread and polluted our whole moral nature. “The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint.” And if you are pardoned, you will also be healed; if the guilt of sin is forgiven, its pollution also will be removed. If your sins are washed away in the blood of Christ, your souls themselves must undergo the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. “There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus”, but all such do not walk after the flesh but after the Spirit. Do you possess this evidence? Has your love of sin been extinguished? Has the habit of sin been broken? Has the reigning power of sin been destroyed?
Observe too that in the instance in our text, the evidence of forgiveness consisted, not so much in a general exemption from disease, as in his being healed of the particular disease of palsy which he suffered. So it is still. The evidence of our forgiveness consists not in our being free from vices to which others may be prone but to which we have never been addicted. “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way.”
And it is when each is brought back from his own way into the way of holiness that he enjoys satisfactory evidence of his conversion to God.
How is it then with you, as to your besetting sins? Have you abandoned sinful pleasures and laid aside questionable conformity? Has the world itself and its attractions ceased to be the chief object of your desire? Does your life declare plainly that you seek a better country? And how is it with those graces and duties to which you are naturally most averse? Is your humility deepened, your temper sweetened, your zeal quickened, your liberality extended, your love to Christ increased day by day? “This I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all judgement, that ye may approve things that are excellent; that ye may be sincere and without offence till the day of Christ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God (Phil 1:9-11).
But is no one of a very different character present – yet a stranger to Christ, and now about to go home to live on in wilful neglect of the great salvation? You may enjoy bodily health and every temporal blessing. Your life may be outwardly decent and your fellow men may respect you. But whether you believe it or not, you are in dreadful danger of losing your soul. Your life is but a vapour which soon vanishes away. Your soul is labouring under a disease which none but the Almighty Physician can heal, and if you will not apply to Him, that disease will soon land you in the horrors of the second death. While yet there is hope, we would pity and pray for you.
If Jeremiah or Paul were yet on earth they would “weep in secret places for your pride”. But be assured that if you live and die slighting the offers of God’s mercy, trampling under foot the blood of His dear Son, you shall perish at last without pity. The mercy of God will be at an end. “Because ye have set at naught all My counsel and would none of my reproof, I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh.” Nor will there be one among the holy creatures of God, not even your nearest relative – husband or wife, parent or child, brother or sister – who will have any compassion for your soul. For pity on an impenitent rebel would be to participate in his rebellion. It would be high treason to the Great King. Your own conscience will be your perpetual tormentor because you have, with guilty infatuation, preferred darkness to light and chosen death rather than life.
Listen to friendly counsel from heaven before it is too late: “Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not? Harken diligently unto Me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto Me; hear and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.”