Acts 26:28. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.
- Taken, with editing, from Revival Truth, which contains eight of M’Cheyne’s sermons.
Paul was here permitted to preach before three persons of high rank. The first was Bernice, the sister of King Agrippa, a woman of great beauty, but living at that very time in open profligacy. The second was Festus, the Roman governor, a soldier and a heathen man of great ignorance. The third was Agrippa, the son of that Agrippa who was smitten of God for his pride and blasphemy. He too was a proud and wicked man, though well read in the law and the prophets. It is curious to see the different ways in which these three sat under the preaching of the Word from the lips of Paul.
Bernice, the lovely but wicked Bernice, sat silent. She had no interest in the Word. She may have been thinking about some new scheme of pleasure or of sin. Her heart was like the hard footpath; the Word could not enter in; the devil carried all away. How many hearing me this day are like Bernice! We may speak of heaven or hell; it does not matter; you have no ears to hear!
Festus, the blinded heathen, listened with unbelieving wonder. He heard of Paul’s strange conversion; he heard of the risen Saviour and that all must turn to Him or perish. The proud Roman could hear no more. Festus said, with a loud voice, “Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad”. O how many are like Festus in this! You hear us telling you of the need of conversion: that God alone can do it for you – that Christ has sent us to open the blind eyes, that sinners may receive the forgiveness of sins. How many proud hearts would gladly say, “Thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad”. If we are mad, it is because we are so dead and cold when we beseech you to turn and have life. It is you who are mad – walking about easy in mind without forgiveness, happy while you are the heirs of hell, prayerless, Christless, godless; yet smiling, happy and careless about your souls! It is you who are mad.
Agrippa, the proud and wicked Agrippa, was much moved by Paul’s discourse. Even the wicked may be moved by the preaching of the Word, the earnest manner of the preacher stretching out his hand, the account of his conversion, his tender appeal to the conscience of Agrippa: “Believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest.” All these things moved his heart. For the time, he felt the misery of being lost, the need of being converted, the happiness of being forgiven; and he cried out, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian”.
Are there none among you who have been moved under the preaching of the Word? It is for your sakes then that I have chosen these words this day, that I may show you, by the help of God, the utter folly of being only almost persuaded to be a Christian.
Some are moved under the preaching of the Word, so that they are almost persuaded to be Christians.
So it was with Agrippa. He was sitting under the preaching of the Word, God’s chosen instrument for converting souls, and his inmost soul was moved under it. So it is with many. When they hear the conversion of others described, when they hear the need they have of being converted, when they hear of Christ being a risen Saviour who is willing to save all that come to Him, when they see the earnestness of the minister as he presses these matters home to their own conscience – they feel almost persuaded.
Surely it is true, they say, that I must be converted or perish! Surely it is true, they say, that they are happy who are brought to the forgiveness of sins. I wish it were my case. Nevertheless, it would be rash to yield just now; I would not like to leave all my pleasures and my companions in sin. Besides, another day may do as well. “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” So it was with Agrippa; so it is with thousands. Is this your case? If so, how utterly foolish you are!
Consider that you may never hear another sermon – you may die tonight! Thou fool, this night thy soul may be required of thee. If you are moved to flee from wrath, flee now. If you are melted by the thought of Christ, flee to Him now. You may never have another offer of salvation through His blood and righteousness. And if you do hear the Word again, it is likely you will be less moved by the next sermon. When iron is often heated, it becomes harder every time. When a surgeon sees many wounds and sores, he is much moved at first, but he soon becomes used to it. So you may be much moved at first, by hearing of Christ and His love, but you will soon turn hard if you are not converted now.
If any of you feel pricked in your conscience, do not content yourself with saying, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian”. The devil tempts you to say this, so that you may remain where you are. If you feel the least need of conversion, go to Christ at once, and He will make you, not almost, but altogether a Christian.
Some are moved in a time of affliction to be almost Christians.
Affliction is one of God’s strongest means for bringing sinners to feel their need of Christ. He comes into godless families like a lion; he tears and carries away, so that many souls may say, “Come, and let us return unto the Lord”. Times of affliction are times for seeking the Lord. It is a hard, hard heart that is unmoved in a time of affliction in the home! “Why should ye be stricken any more? Ye will revolt more and more.” Some unconverted people are much moved in a time of distress. The long-neglected Bible is sought out; the knee that hardly knows how to bend begins to kneel; the minister is listened to; the mind is filled with solemn thoughts about death and hell and judgement! For the moment it appears good to be a Christian.
But the sun breaks through the clouds, the tears are dried off the face, prosperity comes back to the dwelling; and where is its Christianity now? Alas, it has fled. Christ speaks to those in affliction. God is pleading with you face to face. Remember, to be brought into the bonds of the covenant is no easy matter. Do not be contented to be made serious and gloomy for a day or two; that is not conversion. Be altogether, and not almost a Christian.
Christ speaks to those who have come out of affliction and sorrow. See what utter folly it is to be only almost a Christian. Your affliction has lost its kindly purpose. It was sent to bring you to Christ. It almost brought you – that was all. If you have already resisted God’s mightiest instruments, affliction and the Word, there is little hope that you will ever be a Christian indeed. God must do one of two things with you. Either He must persevere with you, send deeper waters of affliction, greater losses, sorer pains, more heart-rending bereavements to drive you to Christ, or He may leave you alone. “Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone.” He may give you your heart’s desire, and send leanness into your soul.
Some are moved in a time of awakening to be almost Christians.
There are times of awakening in congregations and in families, and in such times there are always some who are almost, but not altogether, persuaded to be Christians. When one in a godless family is brought to the Saviour, there are many who will chide and scoff and mock. What need of all this work about the soul? they will say. What need of all this searching of the Bible and continuing in prayer?
They little know, poor souls, what is going on within the awakened bosom. But if many chide and scoff, there are often some who are touched in the heart. Often a brother, a sister, a companion is moved to cling to them, saying like Ruth, “Where thou goest I will go”. O it is happy when companions lead companions to Christ. But how often they drop away before coming to Christ!
Some of you who have been truly converted may remember some who once wept with you and prayed with you and spoke of Christ and salvation with you, who have gone back to the world; they were almost, but not altogether, persuaded to be Christians. Some of you know that this is the case with your own souls. See then the folly of being almost Christians. Your companions are in Christ; you are out of Christ. If it was reasonable in you to flee with them, it is still more reasonable to persevere till you get into Christ. How will you feel in the day of Christ when you see them crowned with glory at the right hand of Christ, and you standing with devils on the left? You will say, I went so far with them; I was almost one of them; but I went back. The saddest place in hell will be for the almost Christian.
Some are moved to flee from hell, yet still are only almost Christians.
Some people are really awakened by the Spirit of God to flee from the wrath to come. They forsake their old pleasures of sin, their old companions, their old ways; they live in anxiety and dread; still they will not come to Jesus Christ in order to have life. They are almost, but not altogether, persuaded to be Christians. This arises from many things.
Sometimes it arises from pride.
They are afraid of hell, but they think they shall escape by some way of their own: by tears or prayers or reformation. They hew out cisterns for themselves; they kindle a fire for themselves and walk in the light of their fire, and in the sparks that they have kindled (Is 50:11). They will not come to Jesus Christ and let Him be their light and salvation. How sad to be so near being saved, and yet to be lost! How sad to be almost Christians, and to be kept from being altogether Christians by soul-ruining pride!
Sometimes it arises from enmity to God.
Christ is the Saviour whom God has provided. The way to honour God is to flee to Jesus Christ, but some awakened souls have so much enmity to God that they will not honour Him by believing on Jesus Christ. How mad it is to fight against God and your own soul! How mad to be almost Christians!
Sometimes it arises from mistaken views of God.
Some anxious souls are suspicious of God. They dare not believe that He has such an infinite depth of pity as to provide a Saviour. No, it cannot be for me, they say; it may be for other sinners, but it cannot be for me. And so they will not come to Jesus Christ. How mad not to believe what God has said of Himself and of His Son! Such people are almost Christians. See here the folly of being almost a Christian.
All your anxiety to flee from hell will do you no good if you are only almost a Christian. You have trembled much and wept much and prayed much for your poor soul. Still, if you are not brought to Jesus Christ, it is all in vain. If you were swimming for your life – if you had breasted many a dashing wave and were now close to the shore, just within reach of the rock – still, if you did not stretch out your hand to clasp the rock, you would be drowned; all your former pains and labours would be vain. A man may drown within reach of the rock just as well as a thousand miles out at sea. So, after all your anxiety, hearing, praying and tears, you may perish where you are, just as surely as those who are out of sight of God.
It is vain to flee toward the ark if you do not flee into it. A man might drown clinging to the ark. You must be shut in! It was vain for Lot’s wife to flee out of Sodom, for she never got into Zoar; just so vain is it to be almost, but not altogether, a Christian.
Your sin is far greater than that of others. Agrippa’s sin was far greater than that of Festus or of Bernice. He was moved to flee to Christ, yet did not flee. They saw no beauty in Him that they should desire Him. So it is with you and the world. If a man was not in search of pearls and passed by the pearl of great price, no one need wonder at it; his eyes were busy with other things. But suppose a man is really seeking goodly pearls, going from place to place, searching for them night and day, and when the pearl of great price is offered to him, he looks at it, turns it round and round, and after he is told its value, that it is worth all that he has, he lays it down and proceeds on his anxious search. Ah, that is the man who despises the pearl most of all!
So you are they who despise Christ most of all; other people tread Him under their feet, because they do not know Him or desire Him; but you, as it were, take Him into your hands and examine His value, and yet you lightly esteem Him. In thus lightly esteeming Christ, your sin is far greater than all the sins you ever committed before. When Judas despised mercy through the Lamb of God and hanged himself, it was a greater sin than betraying the Saviour. So your turning away from Christ is a greater sin than all that ever you did against Him. O may God open your eyes, that you may not be almost a Christian, but a Christian indeed!
The deepest place in hell will be for almost Christians. In strict justice it will be so. The more sin, the greater guilt and the deeper hell. And who has so much sin as the soul that comes nearest to Christ, yet is not ravished with His beauty and attracted to Him by His loveliness? In the nature of things, the hell of the almost Christian will be more severe than that of others. To be almost saved and yet to be lost, to be not far from the kingdom of God and yet to fall into the kingdom of wrath, O that will be an awful thought to all eternity! Many a one will say in that day, I was once very near being in Christ; I was made anxious for my soul; I wept and prayed and searched the Scriptures. I listened with anxiety to the preached Word. I felt it was the power of God. I felt myself condemned by the law. I was quite different from my worldly friends; they did not understand my sorrow – they could only laugh me to scorn. I fled from them. I fled from my old sins. I was not far from the kingdom. I almost stretched out my hands to accept from Christ. I was almost persuaded to be a Christian. And where am I now?
The higher you cast a stone into the air, the deeper it will fall into the sea; so the nearer you are to Christ and heaven, the deeper you will fall into hell. If you come just up to the gate of heaven and see the streets of shining gold and the happy faces of the glorious ones who walk there; if you hear their songs of glory, loud as the voice of many waters, sweet as the harpers harping on their harps; and yet if the gate is shut against you and Christ says, “I know you not . . . depart from Me”, what words of man can tell the agony with which you will go away to lie down in sorrow, to lie down in hell? If there will be one wailing cry from that sad abode more dismal, more heart-rending, than another, it will be the bitter wailing of him who was almost, but not altogether, a Christian.
Do not be content with half-work! Do not be sluggish in seeking converting grace! There is hope for every one of you. I would to God that all who are hearing me this day were both almost and altogether such as Paul was, except his bonds.