Presumptuous
Sins by C. H. Spurgeon
A Sermon Delivered On Sunday Morning, June 7, 1857, By Pastor C. H.
Spurgeon, At The Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens.
Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins. (Ps 19:13)
1. All sins are great sins, but yet some sins are greater than others. Every
sin has in it the very venom of rebellion, and is full of the essential
marrow of traitorous rejection of God. But there are some sins which have in
them a greater development of the essential mischief of rebellion, and which
wear upon their faces more of the brazen pride which defies the Most High.
It is wrong to suppose that because all sins will condemn us, that therefore
one sin is not greater than another. The fact is, that while all
transgression is a greatly grievous sinful thing, yet there are some
transgressions which have a deeper shade of blackness, and a more double
scarlet dyed hue of criminality than others. Now the presumptuous sins of
our text are just the chief of all sins: they rank head and foremost in the
list of iniquities. It is remarkable that though an atonement was provided
under the Jewish law for every kind of sin, there was this one exception.
“But the soul that sins presumptuously shall have no atonement; it shall be
cut off from the midst of my people.” And now under the Christian
dispensation, although in the sacrifice of our blessed Lord there is a great
and precious atonement for presumptuous sins, by which sinners who have
sinned in this manner are made clean, yet without doubt, presumptuous
sinners, dying without pardon, must expect to receive a double portion of
the wrath of God, and a more wonderful manifestation of the unutterable
anguish of the torment of eternal punishment in the pit that is dug for the
wicked.
2. I shall this morning first of all endeavour to describe presumptuous
sins; then, secondly, I shall try, if I can, to show by some illustrations
why the presumptuous sin is more heinous than any other; and then thirdly, I
shall try to press this prayer upon your notice—the prayer, mark you, of the
holy man—the prayer of David. “Keep back your servant also from presumptuous
sins.”
3. I. First, then, WHAT IS A PRESUMPTOUS SIN? Now, I think there must be one
of four things in a sin in order to make it presumptuous. It must either be
a sin against light and knowledge, or a sin committed with deliberation, or
a sin committed with a design of sinning, merely for sinning’s sake, or else
it must be a sin committed through hardihood, from a man’s rash confidence
in his own strength. We will remark on these points one by one.
4. 1. A sin that is committed wilfully against manifest light and knowledge,
is a presumptuous sin. A sin of ignorance is not presumptuous, unless that
ignorance also is wilful, in which case the ignorance is itself a
presumptuous sin. But when a man sins for lack of knowing better—for lack of
knowing the law, for lack of instruction, reproof, advice and admonition, we
say that his sin, so committed, does not partake to any great extent of the
nature of a presumptuous sin. But when a man knows better, and sins in the
very teeth and face of his increased light and knowledge, then his sin
deserves to be branded with this ignominious title of a presumptuous sin.
Let me just dwell on this thought a moment. Conscience is often an inner
light to men, by which they are warned about forbidden acts as being sinful.
Then if I sin against conscience, though I have no greater light than
conscience affords me, still my sin is presumptuous, if I have presumed to
go against that voice of God in my heart, an enlightened conscience. You,
young men, were once tempted, (and perhaps it was only yesterday,) to commit
a certain act. The very moment you were tempted, conscience said, “It is
wrong, it is wrong”—it shouted murder in your heart, and told you the deed
you were about to commit was abominable in the sight of the Lord. Your
fellow apprentice committed the same sin without the warning of conscience;
in him it was guilt—guilt which needs to be washed away with the Saviour’s
blood. But it was not such guilt in him as it was in you, because your
conscience checked you; your conscience told you about the danger, warned
you about the punishment, and yet you dared to go astray against God, and
therefore you sinned presumptuously. You have sinned very grievously in
having done so. When a man shall trespass on my ground, he shall be a
trespasser though he has no warning, but if straight before his face there
stands a warning, and if he knowingly and willingly trespasses, then he is
guilty of a presumptuous trespass, and is to be so far punished accordingly.
So you, if you had not known better; if your conscience had been less
enlightened, you might have committed the deed with far less of the
criminality which now attaches to you, because you sinned against
conscience, and consequently sinned presumptuously.
5. But, oh! how much greater is the sin, when man not only has the light of
conscience, but has also the admonition of friends, the advice of those who
are wise and esteemed by him. If I have only one check, the check of my
enlightened conscience, and I transgress against it, I am presumptuous; but
if a mother with tearful eye warns me of the consequence of my guilt, and if
a father with steady look, and with affectionate determined earnestness,
tells me what will be the result of my transgression—if friends who are dear
to me counsel me to avoid the way of the wicked, and warn me what must be
the inevitable result of continuing in it, then I am presumptuous, and my
act in that very proportion becomes more guilty. I would have been
presumptuous for having sinned against the light of nature, but I am more
presumptuous, when added to that, I have the light of affectionate counsel
and of kind advice, and by it I bring upon my head a double amount of divine
wrath. And how much more is this the case, when the transgressor has been
gifted with what is usually called a religious education; in childhood he
has been lighted to his bed by the lamps of the sanctuary, the name of Jesus
was mingled with the hush of lullaby, the music of the sanctuary woke him
like a morning hymn; he has been dandled on the knee of piety and has sucked
the breasts of godliness; he has been tutored and trained in the way he
should go; how much more fearful I say, is the guilt of such a man than that
of those who have never had such training, but have been left to follow
their own wayward lusts and pleasures without the restraint of a holy
education and the restraints of an enlightened conscience!
6. But, my friends, even this may become worse still. A man sins yet more
presumptuously, when he has had most special warning from the voice of God
against the sin. What mean you? you say. Why, I mean this. You saw only
yesterday a strong man in your neighbourhood brought to the grave by sudden
death; it is only a month ago that you heard the bell toll for one whom once
you knew and loved, who procrastinated and procrastinated until he perished
in procrastination. You have had strange things happen in your very street,
and the voice of God has been spoken loudly through the lip of Death to you.
Aye, and you have had warnings too in your own body, you have been sick with
fever, you have been brought to the jaws of the grave, and you have looked
down into the bottomless vault of destruction. It is not long ago since you
were given up; all said they might prepare a coffin for you, for your breath
could not long be in your body. Then you turned your face to the wall and
prayed; you vowed that if God would spare you, you would live a good life,
that you would repent of your sins; but to your own confusion you are now
just what you were. Ah! let me tell you, your guilt is more grievous than
that of any other man, for you have sinned presumptuously, in the very
highest sense in which you could have done so. You have sinned against
reproofs, but what is worse still, you have sinned against your own solemn
oaths and covenants, and against the promises that you made to God. He who
plays with fire must be condemned as careless; but he who has been burned
out once, and afterwards plays with the destroying element, is worse than
careless; and he who has himself been scorched in the flame, and has had his
locks all hot and crisp with the burning, if he again should rush headlong
into fire, I say he is worse than careless, he is worse than presumptuous,
he is mad. But I have some such here. They have had warnings so terrible
that they might have known better; they have gone into lusts which have
brought their bodies into sickness, and perhaps this day they have crept up
to this house, and they dare not tell to their neighbour who stands by their
side what is the loathsomeness that even now breeds upon their frame. And
yet they will go back to the same lusts; the fool will go again to the
stocks, the sheep will lick the knife that is to slay him. You will go on in
your lust and in your sins, despite warnings, despite advice, until you
perish in your guilt. How worse than children are grown up men! The child
who goes for a merry slide upon a pond, if he is told that the ice will not
bear him, stares back frightened, or if he daringly creeps upon it how soon
he leaves it, if he hears only a crack upon the slender covering of the
water! But you men have a conscience, which tells you that your sins are
vile, and that they will be your ruin; you hear the crack of sin, as its
thin sheet of pleasure gives way beneath your feet; aye, and some of you
have seen your comrades sink in the flood, and lost; and yet you go sliding
on, worse than childish, you are worse than mad, thus presumptuously to play
with your own everlasting state. Oh my God, how terrible is the presumption
of some! How fearful is presumption in any! Oh! that we might be enabled to
cry, “Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins.”
7. 2. I said again, that another characteristic of a presumptuous sin was
deliberation. A man perhaps may have a passionate spirit, and in a moment of
hot haste he may utter an angry word of which in a few short minutes he will
sincerely repent. A man may have a temper so hot that the least provocation
causes him at once to be full of wrath. But he may also have a temperament
which has this benefit to balance it, that he very soon learns to forgive
and cools in a moment. Now, such a man does not sin presumptuously, when
suddenly overcome by anger, though without doubt there is presumption in his
sin, unless he strives to correct that passion and keep it down. A man,
again, who is suddenly tempted and surprised into a sin, which is not his
habit, but which he commits through the force of some strong temptation, is
guilty, but not guilty of presumption, because he was taken unawares in the
net and caught in the snare. But there are other men who sin deliberately;
there are some who can think of a lust for weeks beforehand, and dote upon
their darling crime with pleasure. They do, as it were, water the young
seedling of lust until it grows to the maturity of desire, and then they go
and commit the crime. There are some to whom lust is not a passerby, but a
lodger at home. They receive it, they house it, they feast it; and when they
sin they sin deliberately, walk coolly to their lusts, and in cold blood
commit the act which another might perhaps do in hot and furious haste. Now,
such a sin has in it a great extent of sinfulness, it is a sin of high
presumption. To be carried away as by a whirlwind of passion in a moment is
wrong; but to sit down and deliberately resolve upon revenge is cursed and
diabolical. To sit down and deliberately fashion schemes of wickedness is
heinous, and I can find no other word fitly to express it. To deliberate
carefully how the crime is to be done, and Haman-like to build the gallows,
and set to work to destroy one’s neighbour, to dig the pit so that the
friend may fall into it and be destroyed, to lay snares in secret, to plot
wickedness upon one’s bed—this is a high pitch of presumptuous sin. May God
forgive any of us, if we have been so far guilty!
8. Again, when a man continues long in sin, and has time to deliberate about
it, that also is a proof that it is a presumptuous sin. He who sins once,
being overtaken in a fault, and then abhors the sin, has not sinned
presumptuously; but he who transgresses today, tomorrow and the next day,
week after week and year after year, until he has piled up a heap of sins
that are high as a mountain, such a man, I say, sins presumptuously, because
in a continued habit of sin there must be a deliberation to sin; there must
be at least such a force and strength of mind as could not have come upon
any man if his sin were only the hasty effect of sudden passion. Ah! take
heed, you who are sodden in sin, you who drink it down as the greedy ox
drinks down water, you who run to your lust as the rivers run to the sea,
and you who go to your passions as the sow to her wallowing in the mire.
Take heed! your crimes are grievous, and the hand of God shall soon fall
terribly on your heads, unless by divine grace it is granted to you to
repent and turn to him. Fearful must be your doom, if unpardoned, God should
condemn you for presumptuous sin. Oh! “Lord, keep back your servant also
from presumptuous sins.”
9. 3. Again: I said that a presumptuous sin must be a matter of design, and
have been committed with the intention of sin. If at your leisure at home
you will turn to that passage in the Book of Numbers, where it says there is
no pardon for a presumptuous sin under the Jewish dispensation, you will
find immediately afterward a case recorded. A man went out on the Sabbath
day to gather sticks; he was taken in the act of Sabbath breaking, and the
law being very stringent under the Jewish dispensation, he was ordered at
once to be put to death. Now, the reason why he was put to death was not
because he gathered sticks on the Sabbath merely, but because the law had
just then been proclaimed, “In it you shall do no manner of work.” This man
wilfully, out of design, in order, as it were, to show that he despised
God—to show that he did not care for God—without any necessity, without any
hope of advantage, went straight out, in the very teeth of the law, to
perform not an act which he kept in his own house, which might perhaps have
been overlooked, but an act which brought shame upon the whole congregation,
because infidel-like, he dared to brazen it out before God; as much as to
say, “I do not care for God.” Has God just commanded, “You shall do no
manner of work?” Here am I; I do not need sticks today; I do not need to
work; not for the sake of sticks, but with the design of showing that I
despise God, I go out this day and gather sticks. “Now,” one says, “surely
there are no people in the world that have ever done such a thing as this.”
Yes, there are; and there are such in the Surrey Music Hall this day. They
have sinned against God, not merely for the pleasure of it, but because they
would show their lack of reverence to God. That young man burned his Bible
in the midst of his wicked companions—not because he hated his Bible, for he
quivered and looked pale as the ashes on the hearth when he was doing it;
but he did it out of pure bravado, in order to show them, as he thought,
that he really was far gone from anything like a profession of religion.
That other man is accustomed sometimes to stand by the wayside, when the
people are going to the house of God; and he swears at them, not because he
delights in swearing, but because he will show that he is irreligious, that
he is ungodly. How many an infidel has done the same—not because he had any
pleasure in the thing itself, but because out of the wickedness of his heart
he would spit at God, if it were possible, having a design to let men know
that though the sin itself was cheap enough, he was determined to do
something which would be like spitting in the face of his Maker, and
despising God who created him! Now, such a sin is a masterpiece of iniquity.
There is pardon for such a one—there is full pardon to those who are brought
to repentance; but few of such men ever receive it; for when they are so far
gone as to sin presumptuously, because they wish do it—to sin merely for the
sake of showing their disregard for God and for God’s law, we say of such,
there is pardon for them, but it is wondrous grace which brings them into
such a condition that they are willing to accept it. Oh that God would keep
back his servants here from presumptuous sins! And if any of us here have
committed them, may he bring us back, to the praise of the glory of his
grace!
10. 4. But one more point, and I think I shall have explained these
presumptuous sins. A presumptuous sin also is one that is committed through
a hardihood of fancied strength of mind. One says, “I intend tomorrow to go
into such-and-such a society, because I believe, though it harms other
people, it does me no harm.” You turn around and say to some young man, “I
could not advise you to frequent the Casino—it would be your ruin.” But you
go yourself, sir? “Yes.” But how do you justify yourself? Because I have
such strength of principle that I know just how far to go, and no farther.
You lie, sir; against yourself you lie; you lie presumptuously in so doing.
You are playing with bombshells that shall burst and destroy you; you are
sitting over the mouth of hell, with a fancy that you shall not be burned.
Because you have gone to haunts of vice and come back, tainted, much
tainted, but because you are so blind as not to see the taint, you think
yourself secure. You are not so. Your sin, in daring to think that you are
proof against sin, is a sin of presumption. “No, no,” one says, “but I know
that I can go just so far in such-and-such a sin, and there I can stop.”
Presumption, Sir; nothing but presumption. It would be presumption for any
man to climb to the top of the spire of a church, and stand upon his head.
‘Well, but he might come down safely, if he were skilled in it.’ Yes, but it
is presumptuous. I would no more think of subscribing a farthing to a man’s
ascent in a balloon, than I would to a poor wretch cutting his own throat. I
would no more think of standing and gazing at any man who puts his life in a
position of peril, than I would of paying a man to blow his brains out. I
think such things, if not murders, are murderous. There is suicide in men
risking themselves in that way; and if there is suicide in the risk of the
body, how much more in the case of a man who puts his own soul in jeopardy
just because he thinks he has strength of mind enough to prevent its being
ruined and destroyed. Sir, your sin is a sin of presumption; it is a great
and grievous one; it is one of the masterpieces of iniquity.
11. Oh! how many people are there who are sinning presumptuously today! You
are sinning presumptuously in being today what you are. You are saying, in a
short time I will solemnly and seriously think of religion; in a few years,
when I am a little more settled in life, I intend to turn over a new leaf,
and think about the matters of Godliness. Sir, you are presumptuous. You are
presuming that you shall live; you are speculating upon a thing which is as
frail as the bubble on the breaker; you are staking your everlasting soul on
the deadly odds that you shall live for a few years, whereas, the
probabilities are, that you may be cut down before the sun shall set: and it
is possible, that before another year shall have passed over your head, you
may be in the land where repentance is impossible, and useless if it were
possible. Oh! dear friends, procrastination is a presumptuous sin. The
putting off a thing which should be done today, because you hope to live
tomorrow, is a presumption. You have no right to do it—you are in so doing
sinning against God, and bringing on your heads the guilt of presumptuous
sin. I remember that striking passage in Jonathan Edward’s wonderful sermon,
which was the means of a great revival, where he says, “Sinner, you are this
moment standing over the mouth of hell, upon a single plank, and that plank
is rotten; you are hanging over the jaws of perdition, by a solitary rope,
and the strands of that rope are creaking now.” It is a terrible thing to be
in such a position as that, and yet to say, “tomorrow,” and to
procrastinate. You remind me, some of you, of that story of Dionysius the
tyrant, who, wishing to punish one who had displeased him, invited him to a
noble feast. Rich were the viands that were spread upon the table, and rare
the wines of which he was invited to drink. A chair was placed at the head
of the table, and the guest was seated within it. Horror of horrors! The
feast might be rich, but the guest was miserable, dreadful beyond thought.
However splendid might be the array of the servants, and however rich the
dainties, yet he who had been invited sat there in agony. For what reason?
Because over his head, immediately over it, there hung a sword, a furbished
sword, suspended by a single hair. He had to sit all the time with this
sword above him, with nothing but a hair between him and death, you may
conceive the poor man’s misery. He could not escape; he must sit where he
was. How could he feast? How could he rejoice? But, oh my unconverted
hearer, you are there this morning, man, with all your riches and your
wealth before you, with the comforts of a home and the joys of a household;
you are there this day, in a place from which you cannot escape; the sword
of death above you, prepared to descend; and woe to you, when it shall
cleave your soul from your body! Can you yet make mirth, and yet
procrastinate? If you can, then truly your sin is presumptuous in a high
degree. “Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins.”
12. II. And now I come to the second part of the subject, with which I shall
deal very briefly. I am to try and show WHY IT IS THAT THERE IS GREAT
ENORMITY IN A PRESUMPTUOUS SIN.
13. Let me take any one of the sins: for instance, the sin against light and
knowledge. There is greater enormity in such a presumptuous sin than in any
other. In this our happy land it is just possible for a man to commit
treason. I think it must be rather difficult for him to do it; for we are
allowed to say words here which would have brought our necks beneath the
guillotine, if they had been spoken on the other side the channel; and we
are allowed to do deeds here which would have brought us long years of
imprisonment, if the deed had been done in any other land. We, despite all
that our American friends may say, are the freest people to speak and think
in all the world. Though we have not the freedom of beating our slaves to
death, or of shooting them if they choose to disobey—though we have not the
freedom of hunting men, or the freedom of sucking another man’s blood out of
him to make us rich—though we have not the freedom of being worse than
devils, which slave catchers and many slave holders most certainly are—we
have liberty greater than that; liberty against the tyrant mob, as well as
against the tyrant king. But I suppose it is just possible to commit treason
here. Now, if two men should commit treason—if one of them should wantonly
and wickedly raise the standard of revolt tomorrow, should denounce the
rightful sovereign of this land in the strongest and most abominable
language, should seek to entice the loyal subjects of this country from
their allegiance, and should draw some of them astray, to the harm and
injury of the common good. He might have in his rebellions ranks one who
joined incautiously, not knowing where the matter might lead, who might come
into the midst of the rebels, not understanding the intention of their
unlawful assembling, not even knowing the law which prohibited them from
being banded together. I can suppose these two men brought up upon a charge
of high treason: they have both, legally, been guilty of it; but I can
suppose that the one man who had sinned ignorantly would be acquitted,
because there was no malignant intent; and I can suppose that the other man,
who had wilfully, knowingly, maliciously and wickedly raised the standard of
revolt, would receive the highest punishment which the law could demand. And
why? Because in the one case it was a sin of presumption, and in the other
case it was not so. In the one case the man dared to defy the sovereign, and
defy the law of the land, wilfully, out of mere presumption. In the other
case not so. Now, every man sees that it would be just to make a distinction
in the punishment, because there is—conscience itself tells us—a distinction
in the guilt.
14. Again: some men, I have said, sin deliberately, and others do not do so.
Now, in order to show that there is a distinction here, let me take a case.
Tomorrow the bench of magistrates are sitting. Two men are brought up. They
are each of them charged with stealing a loaf of bread. It is clearly
proven, in the one case that the man was hungry, and that he snatched the
loaf of bread to satisfy his necessities. He is sorry for his deed, he
grieves that he has done the act; but most manifestly he had a strong
temptation to it. In the other case the man was rich, and he wilfully went
into the shop merely because he wished break the law and show that he was a
lawbreaker. He said to the policeman outside, “Now, I care neither for you
nor the law; I intend to go in there, just to see what you can do with me.”
I can suppose the magistrate would say to one man, “You are discharged; take
care not to do the like again; there is something for your present
necessities; seek to earn an honest living.” But to the other I can conceive
him saying, “You are an infamous wretch; you have committed the same deed as
the other, but from very different motives; I give you the longest term of
imprisonment which the law allows me, and I can only regret that I cannot
treat you worse than I have done.” The presumption of the sin made the
difference. So when you sin deliberately and knowingly, your sin against
Almighty God is a higher and a blacker sin than it would have been if you
had sinned ignorantly, or sinned in haste.
15. Now let us suppose one more case. In the heat of some little dispute
some one shall insult a man. You shall be insulted by a man of angry temper;
you have not provoked him, you gave him no just cause for it; but at the
same time he was of a hot and angry disposition, he was somewhat foiled in
the debate, and he insulted you, calling you by some name which has left a
stain upon your character, so far as epithets can do it. I can suppose that
you would ask no reparation from him, if by tomorrow you saw that it was
just a rash word spoken in haste, of which he repented. But suppose another
person should waylay you in the street, should week after week seek to meet
you in the market place, and should after a great deal of toil and trouble
at last meet you, and there, in the centre of a number of people,
unprovoked, just out of sheer, deliberate malice, come before you and call
you a liar in the street; I can suppose that Christian as you are, you might
find it necessary to chastise such insolence, not with your hand, but with
the arm of that equitable law which protects us all from insulting violence.
In the other case I can suppose it would be no trouble to you to forgive.
You would say, “My dear fellow, I know we are all hasty sometimes—there,
now, I do not care at all for it; you did not mean it.” But in this case,
where a man has dared and defied you without any provocation whatever, you
would say to him, “Sir, you have endeavoured to injure me in respectable
society; I can forgive you as a Christian, but as a man and a citizen, I
shall demand that I am protected against your insolence.”
16. You see, therefore, in the cases that occur between man and man, how
there is an excess of guilt added to a sin by presumption. Oh! you who have
sinned presumptuously—and who among us has not done so?—bow your heads in
silence, confess your guilt, and then open your mouths, and cry, “Lord, have
mercy upon me, a presumptuous sinner.”
17. III. And now I have nearly done—not to weary you by too long a
discourse—we shall notice THE APPROPRIATENESS OF THIS PRAYER—“Keep back your
servant also from presumptuous sins.”
18. Will you just note, that this prayer was the prayer of a saint, the
prayer of a holy man of God? Did David need to pray thus? Did the “man after
God’s own heart” need to cry, “Keep back your servant?” Yes, he did. And
note the beauty of the prayer. If I might translate it into more
metaphorical style, it is like this, “Curb your servant from presumptuous
sin.” “Keep him back, or he will wander to the edge of the precipice of sin.
Hold him in; Lord he is apt to run away; curb him; put the bridle on him; do
not let him do it; let your overpowering grace keep him holy; when he wishes
do evil, then draw him to good, and when his evil propensities would lead
him astray, then check him.” “Check your servant from presumptuous sins!”
19. What, then? Is it true that the best of men may sin presumptuously? Ah!
it is true. It is a solemn thing to find the apostle Paul warning saints
against the most loathsome of sins. He says, “Mortify therefore your members
which are upon the earth, fornication, uncleanness, idolatry, inordinate
affection,” and such like. What! do saints need warning against such sins as
these? Yes, they do. The highest saints may sin the lowest sins, unless kept
by divine grace. You old experienced Christians, do not boast in your
experience; you may trip yet, unless you cry, “Hold you me up, and I shall
be safe.” You whose love is fervent, whose faith is constant, whose hopes
are bright, do not say, “I shall never sin,” but rather cry out, “Lord, lead
me not into temptation, and when I am there do not leave me there, for
unless you hold me fast I feel I must, I shall decline, and prove an
apostate after all.” There is enough tinder in the heart of the best men in
the world to light a fire that shall burn to the lowest hell, unless God
should quench the sparks as they fall. There is enough corruption,
depravity, and wickedness in the heart of the most holy man that is now
alive to damn his soul to all eternity, if free and sovereign grace does not
prevent it. Oh Christian, you need to pray this prayer. But I think I hear
you crying, “Is your servant a dog that I should do this thing?” So said
Hazael, when the prophet told him that he would kill his master; but he went
home, and took a wet cloth and spread it over his master’s face and stifled
him, and did the next day the sin which he abhorred before. Do not think it
is enough to abhor sin, you may yet fall into it. Do not say, “I never can
be drunk, for I have such an abhorrence of drunkenness;” you may fall where
you are most secure. Do not say, “I can never blaspheme God, for I have
never done so in my life;” take care; you may yet swear most profanely. Job
might have said, “I will never curse the day of my birth;” but he lived to
do it. He was a patient man; he might have said, “I will never murmur;
though he kills me yet will I trust in him;” and yet he lived to wish that
the day was darkness when he was born. Do not boast, then, oh Christian: by
faith you stand. “Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.”
20. But if this needs to be the prayer of the best, how ought it to be the
prayer of you and me? If the highest saint must pray it, oh mere moralist,
you have good need to utter it. And you who have begun to sin, who make no
pretensions to piety, how much need is there for you to pray that you may be
kept from presumptuously rebelling against God?
21. Instead, however, of enlarging upon that point, I shall close my few
remarks this morning by just addressing myself most affectionately to such
of you as are now under a sense of guilt by reason of presumptuous sins.
God’s Spirit has found some of you out this morning. I thought when I was
describing presumptuous sin that I saw here and there an eye that was
suffused with tears; I thought I saw here and there a head that was bowed
down, as much as to say, “I am guilty there.” I thought there were some
hearts that palpitated with confession, when I described the guilt of
presumption. I hope it was so. If it was, I am glad of it. If I hit your
consciences, it was that I meant to do it. Not to your ears do I speak, but
to your hearts. I would not give the snap of this my finger to gratify you
with mere words of oratory, with a mere flow of language. No, God is my
witness. I never sought effect yet, except the effect of hitting your
consciences. I would use the words that would be most rough and vulgar in
all our language, if I could get at your heart better with them than with
any other; for I consider that the chief purpose of a minister is to touch
the conscience. If any of you feel then that you have presumed against God
in sinning, let me just bid you look at your sin, and weep over the
blackness of it; let me exhort you to go home and bow your heads with
sorrow, and confess your guilt, and weep over it with many tears and sighs.
You have greatly sinned, and if God should blast you into perdition now, he
would be just, if now his fiery thunderbolt of vengeance should pierce you
through, if the arrow that is now upon the string of the Almighty should
find a target in your heart, he would be just. Go home and confess that,
confess it with cries and sighs. And then what should you do next? Why, I
bid you remember that there was a Man who was a God. That Man suffered for
presumptuous sin. I would bid you this day, sinner, if you know your need of
a Saviour, go up to your bedroom, cast yourself upon your face and weep for
sin; and when you have done that, turn to the Scriptures, and read the story
of that Man who suffered and died for sin. Do you think you see him in all
his unutterable agonies, and griefs, and woes, and say this—
My soul looks back to see
The burdens you did bear,
When hanging on th’ accursed tree,
And hopes her guilt was there.
Lift up your hand, and put it on his head who bled, and say—
My faith would lay its hand
On that dear head of thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.
Sit down at the foot of his cross, and watch him until your heart is moved,
until the tears begin to flow again, until your heart breaks within you; and
then you will rise and say—
Dissolved by his mercy I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.
Oh sinner, you can never perish, if you will cast yourself at the foot of
the cross. If you seek to save yourself you shall die; if you will come,
just as you are all black, all filthy, all hell deserving, all ill
deserving, I am my Master’s hostage, I will be answerable at the day of
judgment for this matter, if he does not save you. I can preach on this
subject now, for I trust I have tried my Master myself. As a youth I sinned,
as a child I rebelled, as a young man I wandered into lusts and vanities: my
Master made me feel how great a sinner I was, and I sought to reform, to
mend the matter; but I grew worse. At last I heard it said, “Look to me, and
be saved all the ends of the earth;” and I looked to Jesus. And oh! my
Saviour, you have eased my aching conscience, you have given me peace; you
have enabled me to say—
Now freed from sin I walk at large,
My Saviour’s blood’s a full discharge;
At his dear feet my soul I lay,
A sinner saved, and homage pay.
And oh! my heart pants for you. Oh that you who never knew him could taste
his love now. Oh that you who have never repented might now receive the Holy
Ghost who is able to melt the heart! And oh that you that are penitents
would look to him now! And I repeat that solemn assertion—I am God’s hostage
this morning; you shall feed me on bread and water to my life’s end, aye,
and I will bear the blame for ever, if any of you seek Christ, and Christ
rejects you. It must not, it cannot be. “Whoever comes,” he says, “I will in
nowise cast out.” “He is able to save to the uttermost those who come to God
by him.” May God Almighty bless you; and may we meet again in heavenly
paradise; and there we will sing more sweetly of redeeming love and dying
blood, and of Jesus’ power to save—
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue,
Lies silent in the grave.
http://www.answersingenesis.org/articles/2009/06/08/presumptuous-sins