KEY TEXT: ‘’But when the king came in to see the guests, he
saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment’’ Mat 22:11.
SERMON IDEA: There are many wedding garments but still the
only true garment is Christ’s righteousness.
INTRODUCTION
‘‘A wedding is the ceremony where people are united in
marriage’’. Wedding traditions and customs vary greatly between cultures,
ethnic groups, religions, countries, and social classes. Most wedding
ceremonies involve an exchange of wedding vows by the couple, presentation of a
gift (offering, ring(s), symbolic item, flowers, money), and a public
proclamation of marriage by an authority figure or leader. Special wedding
garments are often worn, and the ceremony is sometimes followed by a wedding
reception. Music, poetry, prayers or readings from religious texts or
literature are also commonly incorporated into the ceremony.
Garment is any article
of clothing. Clothingan outer covering or outward appearance. That means to
cloth, dress, or cover.
Wedding garment is a dress or gown worn by a bride during a
wedding ceremony. Color, style and ceremonial importance of the gown can depend
on the religion and culture of the wedding participants.
In Middle east the
wedding were conducted in mid-night as the Bible says in the book of Matthew
25: 6 ‘’ And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh;
go ye out to meet him ‘’. Then
‘’ …………………………… that were ready went in with him to the
marriage: and the door was shut’’( Mat 25:10). After that is when the Master of
the ceremony visits his guests to see if the all guests where invited and have
got the wedding garment. After finishing to check is where people start the
ceremony. But today we are going to see the wedding garment of Jesus Christ
wedding.
Is there a garment of this wedding?
Which kind of garment is this?
Just listen carefully.
Afterward came also
the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us.
25:12
But he answered and
said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.
25:13
Watch therefore, for
ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh
A Sermon
(No. 976)
Delivered on Lord's-day Morning, February 19th, 1871 by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"And when the
king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding
garment: And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a
wedding garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants,
Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness;
there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are
chosen."—Matthew 22:11-14.
PPARENTLY the parable of the marriage feast would have been
complete without this addition, but there was infinite wisdom in appending this
sequel. This is seen practically in the experience of the church of God. Those
who are permitted to see large additions to the church will find this parable
of the wedding garment to be singularly appropriate and timely. Whenever there
is a revival and many are brought to Christ, it seems inevitable that at the
same time a proportion of unworthy persons should enter the church. However
diligent may be the oversight there will be pretenders creeping in unawares who
have no true part or lot in the matter, and hence, when the preacher is most
earnest for the ingathering of souls to Christ, he needs to couple therewith a
holy jealousy, lest those who come forward to make a profession of faith should
be moved by carnal motives, and should not really have given their hearts to
God. We must use the net to draw in the many, but all are not good fishes that
are taken therein. On the threshing floor of Zion the heap is not all pure
wheat, the chaff is mingled with the grain, and therefore the winnowing fan is
wanted. God's furnace is in Zion, and there is good need for it, for the gold
is yet in the ore and needs to be separated from the dross. Wood, hay, and
stubble building is quick work, but it is a waste of effort; we need
continually to examine our materials, and see that we use only gold, silver,
and precious stones. It is most needful in times of religious excitement, to
remind men that godliness does not consist in profession, but must be proved by
inward vitality and outward holiness. Everything will have to be tested by a
heart-searching God, and if, when he comes to search us, we are found wanting,
we shall be expelled even from the marriage feast itself; for there is a way to
hell from the very gates of heaven. In a word, it is well for all to be
reminded that the enemies of the great King are not only outside the church,
but they are even in it; while a part refuse to come to the wedding of his Son,
others press into the banquet and are still his foes. May God grant that this
subject may have a heart-searching effect. May it be as the north wind when it
blows through the marrow of the bones. May it lead us to desire to be searched
and tried of God, whether we are truly in the faith, or are reprobates in his
esteem.
The parable may be discoursed upon under five heads. Here is
an enemy at the feast; here is the king at the feast; that king becomes the
judge at the feast; and hence the enemy becomes the criminal at the feast; and
swiftly is removed by the executioner at the feast.
I. We see in the text AN ENEMY AT THE FEAST.
He came into the banquet when he was bidden, but he came
only in appearance, he came not in heart. The banquet was intended for the
honour of the son, but this man meant not so; he was willing to eat the good
things, but he intended no respect to the prince. He did not, like others, say,
"I will not come, for I will not have this man to reign over me"; but
he said, "I will come, but it shall be in such a way that the royal
purpose shall not be served, but rather hindered. I shall be present as an
onlooker, but take no share in the ceremony; I will, on the contrary, show that
I have no care for the business in hand, except so far as it serves my
turn." The man came in full exercise of self-will and self-love. He
resolved to yield no homage, but to assert his independent self-sovereignty. He
would show the king even at his table, where his bounties were so largely
dispensed, that he was not afraid to affront him. When he came to the door of
the feast, he found the guests all putting on the garment suitable for the
marriage banquet. As here, in our own country, at a funeral, each mourner is
expected to put on the articles of mourning which are provided, so at the
wedding feast each person was expected to wear the bridegroom's favours, the
garment which, as a badge, marked him as an attendant at the wedding, and as
one who rejoiced in it. While others cheerfully put on this wedding dress the
traitor would not; he resolved to defy the rules of the palace, and to insult
the king by appearing in his own garments. He scorned to wear the livery of
respectful joy, he preferred to make himself conspicuous by his daring
insolence. The badge was intended to show that the wearer was a real
participator in the joy of the feast, and for that very reason he would not put
it on. He did not acknowledge the king nor the prince, nor care one atom about the
gladsome event. He had no objection to be there, to eat the dainties, or
recline upon the seats, and see the pomp and the show, but he was only in it,
and not of it; he was there in body, but not in spirit. Are there not crowds of
people whose union to the church is nothing better than an insult to God?
Custom sways them, and not sincere faith. They have no regard to the great Head
of the church or to the heart-searching God. They treat church membership as a
trifle, and have no tenderness of heart touching the matter. They, in effect,
say, "The table of the Lord is contemptible." "Spots are they in
our feasts, feeding themselves without fear."
Many a time the question has been asked: "What was the
wedding garment?" It is a question which need not be curiously pried into.
So many answers have been given that I conclude that if our Saviour had
intended any one specific thing he would have expressed himself more plainly,
so that we would have been able, without so much theological disputing, to have
understood what he meant. It seems to me that our Lord intended much more than
any one thing. The guests were bidden to come to the wedding to show their
respect to the king and prince; some would not come at all, and so showed their
sedition; this man came, and when he heard the regulation, that a certain
garment should be put on, comely in appearance and suitable for the occasion,
he determined that he would not wear it. In this act of rebellion, he went as
far in opposition as they did who would not come at all, and he went a little
further, for in the very presence of the guests and of the king he dared to
declare his disloyalty and contempt. Alas, how many are willing enough to
receive gospel blessings, but they are still at enmity with God and have no
delight in the only Begotten Son. Such will dare to use the forms of godliness,
and yet their hearts are full of rebellion against the Lord. The wedding
garment represents anything which is indispensable to a Christian, but which
the unrenewed heart is not willing to accept, anything which the Lord ordains
to be a necessary attendant of salvation, against which selfishness rebels.
Hence it may be said to be Christ's righteousness imputed to us, for alas, many
nominal Christians kick against the doctrine of justification by the
righteousness of the Saviour and set up their own self-righteousness in
opposition to it. To be found in Christ, not having our own righteousness,
which is of the law, but having the righteousness which is of God by faith, is
a very prominent badge of a real servant of God, and to refuse it is to
manifest opposition to the glory of God, and to the name, person, and work of
his exalted Son. But we might with equal truth say that the wedding dress is a
holy character, the imparted righteousness which the Holy Spirit works in us,
and which is equally necessary as a proof of grace. If you question such a
statement, I would remind you of the dress which adorns the saints in heaven.
What is said of it? "They have washed their robes and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb." Their robes therefore were such as once needed
washing; and this could not be said in any sense of the righteousness of the
Lord Jesus Christ; that was always perfect and spotless. It is clear then that
the figure is sometimes applied to saints in reference to their personal
character. Holiness is always present in those who are loyal guests of the
great King, for "without holiness no man shall see the Lord." Too
many professors pacify themselves with the idea that they possess imputed
righteousness, while they are indifferent to the sanctifying work of the
Spirit. They refuse to put on the garment of obedience, they reject the white
linen which is the righteousness of saints. They thus reveal their self-will,
their enmity to God, and their nonsubmission to his Son. Such men may talk what
they will about justification by faith, and salvation by grace, but they are
rebels at heart, they have not on the wedding dress any more than the
self-righteous, whom they so eagerly condemn. The fact is, if we wish for the
blessings of grace, we must in our hearts submit to the rules of grace without
picking and choosing. It is idle to dispute whether the wedding garment is
faith or love, as some have done, for all the graces of the Spirit and blessings
of the covenant go together. No one ever had the imputed righteousness of
Christ without receiving at the same time a measure of the righteousness
wrought in us by the Holy Spirit. Justification by faith is not contrary to the
production of good works: God forbid. The faith by which we are justified is
the faith which produces holiness, and no one is justified by faith which does
not also sanctify him and deliver him from the love of sin. All the essentials
of the Christian character may be understood as making up the great wedding
garment. In one word, we put on Christ, and he is "made of God unto us
wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption."
The wedding garment is simply mentioned here as being a test
of loyalty to those who came to the marriage feast, and as a mode by which
rebellion was avowed and loyalty made apparent. Here was a man then who came
into the gospel feast, and yet refused to comply with the command which related
to that feast. He willfully preferred self to God, his heart was full of enmity
and pride, he despised the gifts of grace, he scorned the rule of love, he
stood a defiant rebel even at the banquet of mercy which his king had spread.
His sin lay, first of all, in coming in there at all without
the wedding garment. If he did not mean to be of one heart with his fellow
guests and his lord, why did he come? If a man does not intend to yield himself
up to God's will, why does he profess to be of God's church? If a man is not
saved by the righteousness of Christ, why does he profess to be a believer in
Christ? If he will not be obedient to Christ's holy will, why does he pretend
to be follower of Christ? It is a grave mistake for any person to imagine that
he can be in the church of God to his own advantage unless his heart is
renewed, unless he means what he declares, and sincerely loves the rule under
which he professes to put himself.
The intruder's sin was aggravated by the fact that after he
had unlawfully come into the feast he still continued there without the wedding
robe. He does not appear to have had any compunction, or to have thought of
amending his error. Only when the king came in and said, "Take him
away," had the insolent rebel any idea of removing. Had he come in there,
as I fear some of you have come into the church, under a mistake, thinking that
there was no need of the wedding dress, when he looked around and saw all other
persons wearing it, and observed that it was the peculiar mark of a guest, he
would have felt uneasy and have gone to those who kept the royal wardrobe to
get such a robe for himself; and then his sin in the matter would not have been
laid to his charge. But he persisted in remaining where he was, and as he was.
O my dear hearers, if you have already perpetrated the sin of union with the
visible church of God without having the prerequisites, without being indeed
submissive to God in heart and desirous to honour Christ, I entreat you, seek
what is wanted, seek faith in God, seek a new heart, seek holiness of life,
seek to become a loyal subject of the King, and be not content until you have
these things, for the King will soon come in: he gives you time as yet, may he
also give you grace to see to it that, being now where you ought never to have
been, you may yet make your position a right one by obtaining that which will
justify you in remaining where you are. The guest in his own clothes was a
speckled bird amongst that company, it was possible for him even then to have
become one of them; but he would not, he continued to defy the King.
This persistence he retained though he probably knew the
fate of those who had refused to come. He knew that the king had sent forth his
armies and destroyed those wicked men who had molested his messengers, and yet
he dared to recline at his ease in the very teeth, and defying the terrible
power of the monarch. He made his brow as brass and hardened his heart as
adamant, and forced his way into a position where his seditious spirit would be
able to display itself conspicuously. He said within his soul, "I care
nothing for this marriage. I will make sport of it; I will intrude myself into
that feast and show my contempt. I will take the provisions, but the son shall
have no honour from me, and the king shall not find me bend my will to his
command." Thus he had the audacity to disport himself as a willful rebel
at the feast of mercy. Are there any such among you here? The tendency will be
for those who are not so to begin to condemn themselves. I know already one who
has said, "I am that guest that had not on a wedding garment." She is
not that one, for she is not even a member of the church, and therefore it
cannot concern her; but many like her write bitter things against themselves.
Another will be saying, "I am that one," whereas, if there be one
that lives near to God and whose desire is to be like Christ, and to be in all
things conformed to the divine will, he is the man. You who are most assuredly
right will probably be suspicious that you are not, and you who are insincere
and have never submitted yourselves to the will of God will probably say,
"What does it matter? I am doing as well as others, I give as much, I
attend the means as much, surely there can be no cause for concern In me."
God grant that you may feel anxiety and fear before the Lord.
II. We pass on to the next point—THE KING AT THE FEAST.
"The king came in to see the guests." What an
honour and privilege this was to the poor creatures whom his royal munificence
had brought together! Was it not indeed the chief point of the entire festival'?
One of our greatest joys is to sing—
The king himself comes near
And feasts his saints today!
What would church fellowship be if it had not the fellowship
of God with it? To sit with my dear brethren and rejoice in their love is
exceedingly delightful; but the best wine is fellowship with the Father, and
with his Son Jesus Christ. The king did not provide the banquet and leave his
guests to eat by themselves, but he "came in," and into every gospel
church gathered according to his command the King will come. I am sure the most
fervent desire of this church is that the King may personally visit us. We
trust he is with us, but we want him yet more fully to reveal himself. Our cry
is, "Come, great King, with all thy glorious power, with thy Spirit and with
thy glorious Son, and manifest thyself to us as thou dost not unto the
world."
When the king came into the banqueting chamber he saw the
guests, and they also saw him. It was a mutual revelation. Ever sweet is this
to the saints, that their God looks upon them; his look brings no terror to our
minds when we are loyal and loving. "Thou God seest me" is sweet
music. We desire to abide for ever beneath the divine inspection, for it is an
inspection of unbounded love. He sees our faults, it is to remove them; he
notes our imperfections, it is to cleanse them away. Behold me, O great King,
and lift up thine eyes upon me, accepting me in the Beloved. What joy it is to
us who are saved in Christ Jesus that we also can see him! "Through a
glass darkly," I grant you we behold him, for as yet we are not fit to
behold the full splendour of his Godhead! but yet how sweetly doth he reveal
himself to our souls and unveil his eternal love. Then it is that the feast is
most fully a banquet of wine, when the banner of love waves over us, and the
king's voice fills us with unspeakable delight.
"The king came in to see his guests." This, I say,
was the crowning point of the entire banquet. Observe that he came in after
they were in their places. They did not see him before they had entered his
halls. When an inferior entertains a superior he always advances to the door to
meet him and waits until he comes. If her Majesty the Queen were entertained by
one of her nobles, he would be in waiting, and at the threshold would meet her;
but when a superior entertains an inferior the inferior may take his seat at
the table, and when all is ready the noble host will come in. It is so in the
banquet of mercy. You and I see nothing of God, by way of communion with him,
until first we have been brought in by the message of mercy to the
marriage-feast of the gospel; for, indeed, until then a sight of God would
strike us with terror—
"Till God in human flesh I see,
My thoughts no comfort find;
The holy, just, and sacred Three
Are terrors to my mind;
But when Immanuel's face appear,
My hope, my joy, begins;
His name forbids my slavish fear,
His grace removes my sins."
When I get to the banquet of mercy, then it is that I can
dare to look at the King of kings, but not until then. What a joyous sight, a
vision of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory as
he appears in the gospel, feasting us upon his fatlings. An incarnate God makes
God visible to us and makes us happy in the sight. "How canst thou see my
face and live?" was the old question, but, behold, it is answered this
day. At the marriage union of Christ with his people we see the face of the
King in his beauty, and our souls not only live, but we have life more
abundantly.
Observe, dear brethren, that the King has special times for
this. He is not always in the festal chamber; to our sorrow we sometimes miss
the King's presence at his table. We have the ordinances always, but we do not
always enjoy the God of ordinances. The means of grace are abiding, but the
grace of the means will come and go according to the sovereign good pleasure of
our God. The King has his times of coming in. These are glad times to his
people, but they are trying times to the mass of professors. When are these
times? So far as unworthy guests are concerned, the times of God's visitation
are those seasons when character is manifested. All times and periods do not
reveal character. A lion may lie all day asleep, you may scarce know but what
it is tame; but when the night brings the time for it to go forth to its prey,
then it howls, and displays its ferocity. And so an ungodly man may lie down in
the church of God with the lambs of the flock, and nothing may lead you to
suspect his true character, but when the time comes for him to make profit by
sin, or to get pleasure by sin, or to escape from persecution by sin, then you
find out what he is. These providences are the King's coming in to scrutinize
the guests. Changes in the conditions of the church, changes in the condition
of the individual, all sorts of providential events go to make up the great
sieve by which the wheat and the chaff are separated.
A great and most solemn coming in of the King to see the
guests is, when having looked over the church, unknown to us, he decides that
such and such a hypocrite has had space enough for repentance and time enough
for mischief, and must now be summoned to the dread tribunal by death. The time
when the King comes in to see his guests is not the last judgment, for that is
the coming of the Son and not of the Father, and if it were intended in the
parable, we would read that the prince came in to see his guests. We are led to
view the King himself as continually judging professors and detecting the
rebels who place themselves among the saints; by this judgment of God men are
taken away from the church in their transgressions, bound hand and foot, and
cast into the outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. I
do not know, my dear brethren, when God may be visiting this church, and taking
away the men that are rebels in our midst, but I do know that when professors
die it is not certain that all of them sleep in Jesus; but some of them are
rooted up, like tares from among the wheat, and are bound up in bundles to
burn. The division is going on constantly. The King's presence is known to
believers in the joy which they feel, but it is made known to hypocrites by his
cutting them off and appointing them their portion in eternal woe.
If, however, there is any one time when we may be quite sure
that the King comes in to see the guests, it is after large ingatherings from
the world, for notice here, when the servants had gathered in guests in large
numbers, it was then that the king came in. Now it will be after the time of
revival which we are feeling just now, when I hope a great many will be added
to the church, that the Lord will search and sift us. If there has been no
visitation of the church before for purposes of love or judgment—for they go
together—we shall be quite sure to have such a visit from the great Lord
himself at this time.
III. Solemnly think of THE JUDGE AT THE FEAST.
To all the rest at the festival he was the king, the beloved
monarch, the munificent donor of a splendid banquet, and all eyes feasted as
they looked at him: it was joy enough to behold the king in his beauty, and to
see his Son with all his royal jewels on, attired for the wedding feast; but he
was a judge to the hypocritical intruder. The day of comfort to his saints is
also the day of vengeance of our God. He who comes to comfort all that mourn
comes at the same time to smite the rebellious with a rod of iron.
The judge begins, as you perceive, by seeing, "He saw
there a man." What eyes are those of Omniscience! The parable represents
but one such man as present, yet the All-seeing King saw him at once, he fixed
his flaming eyes on that one. I suppose it was a greater crowd than this, but
the king fixed his eyes on the solitary offender at once. Does the parable
speak of only one because we may expect to find only one hypocrite in a church?
Alas! there have been many such at the wedding feast, but one only is mentioned
to show us that if there were but one, God would find him out; and, being many,
the sinners in Zion may be the more sure that they will not escape. It is
possible that none of the guests may have noticed the man's garments; the
parable makes no remark upon any expostulations made to him by others; perhaps
they were all so taken up with the sight of the king, and so glad to be at the
feast themselves, that they had no heart to make remarks upon others. But this
is certain, that the king detected at once the absence of what was requisite to
the marriage feast. It was not the presence of anything offensive, but the
absence of something which was requisite. He did not say to the unworthy guest,
"Thou hast rags upon thee," or "thou art filthy." or
"thou hast an unwashed face"; he enquired solely into the absence of
the peculiar badge which denoted a loving guest. God will judge, and does
continually judge his church upon this question, the absence of what is
absolutely necessary to being a Christian, the absence of honouring the Son,
and obeying the Father. O soul, if thou art a professor of religion, and yet
dost not love Jesus, and dost not fear the great King of kings, thou lackest
the wedding robe, and what dost thou here? The King will see at once that thou
lackest it. Thy morality, thy generosity, thy high sounding prayers, ay, and
even thine eloquent discoursings, these cannot conceal from him the fact that
thy heart is not with him. The one thing needful is to accept loyally the Lord
as King.
The king next began to deal with the rebel. Note how he
spoke with him. He took him on his own ground. It was too high a day for the
king to use rough speech; the man pretended to be a friend, and he addressed
him as such, but though the word I doubt not was uttered softly, it must have
stung him if he had any feeling left. Judas exemplified in his own person this
character. When he gave the Saviour the traitor's kiss, our Lord addressed him
as "friend." He pretended to be a friend. A friend, indeed, to insult
his king at his own table, and to select for the insult the delicate occasion
of the prince's marriage to which he had been hospitably invited! This was
infamous! Friend indeed! Where will you find enemies if such shall be called
friends? The king put it to him, "How camest thou in hither?" What
business hast thou here? What could have induced thee so maliciously to defy
me? To smite me in my tenderest point, and mock my guests, and trample on my
son? Didst thou intend such daring insolence? "How camest thou in hither?
In hither? Was there nowhere else to pour forth thy sedition, no other spot in
which to play the traitor? Needest thou come into my palace, and to my table,
and before my son on his wedding day to reveal thy enmity? Was there a need to
do this?" So may the Lord say to some of us. "Were there no other
ways to sin, but that you must profess to be my servant when you were not so? Were
there no other bowls that you could drink from, that ye must profane the cups
of my table? Was there no other bread that you could put into your wicked
mouths but the bread that represents the body of my Son? Had you nowhere else
to sin in that you must needs sin in the church? Could you do nothing else to
show your spite but that you must make a lying profession of faith in my Son,
who bled upon the cross to redeem the sons of men? Could you assail me nowhere
else but through the wounds of my only-begotten Son? Could you vex my Spirit by
no other means than by pretending to be my friend, and thrusting yourself in
hither, while defiantly rejecting that which was necessary to do me honour, and
to do my Son honour, at the festival of my grace?" I dare not dwell upon the
topic. I give you the text; I pray that your conscience may preach the sermon.
Notice however, one thing, and that is, that the king, when
he thus turned a judge, dealt with this man only about himself. "How
camest thou in hither?" Did I hear a whisper in some one's mind,
"Well, if I am unfit to be a church member, there are a great many others
who are in the same condemnation." What is that to you? See to thyself!
When the king came in to see the guests he did not say to this man, "How came
yonder persons here without the wedding garment?" His dealings were
personal with him alone: "How camest thou in hither, not having on the
wedding garment?" Professor, look to thyself, look to thyself. Let thy
charity begin at home. Cast out the beam from thine own eye, and then mayst
thou see clearly to cast out the mote that is in thy brother's eye. He fixed on
the one man, made him his entire audience, and directed to him the solemn
question, "Friend, how camest thou in hither?" Ah, my dear hearers,
as the pastor of this church it has been a very great joy to me to see our
numbers increased; many have been added to us, and many have gone forth from us
to form other churches; my joy has been constant in God concerning this matter.
Our beloved brethren associated with me in office have done their best to keep
any of you back who have sought membership in whom we could see no fruits
corresponding. We have not used our office deceitfully; as in the sight of God
we have tried to be neither too severe nor too lax, but for all that I cannot
but know that there are some of you who are not Christians though you bear the
name. Like those of old, you say you are Jews and are not, but do lie. I am not
now speaking of any who have fallen into sin and have suffered our rebuke, or have
been separated from us by excommunication and yet remain in the congregation; I
mean others of you whose lives are all that could be desired openly, and yet
there is a worm at the heart of your profession; you are not vitally godly, you
have a name to live, and you keep that name untarnished as yet, but you are
dead. Search ye yourselves; do not from this tabernacle descend into hell; let
your prayer be, "Gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life with bloody
men." I am as concerned about myself as about you, that I should be found
"accepted in the Beloved;" lest after having preached to others I
myself should be a castaway! Do let it be a matter of solemn anxiety with each
one. If you have never come to Jesus, come now; if you have never sought
holiness of life, seek it now. If you have never had the wedding garment, it is
yet procurable; go ye to him who freely gives it, the Lord will not refuse you;
go to-day and he will accept you.
IV. He who was the unworthy guest is now THE CRIMINAL AT THE
FEAST. The king has now become a judge to him; the question has been personally
put to him, and he is speechless. Why is he silent? Surely it was because he
was convicted of open, undeniable disloyalty. No evidence was required; he had
come there on set purpose with malice aforethought to display his disloyalty,
and had done so in the presence of the King. I do not think he represents at
all a person who enters the church through ignorance, with a sincere but
ignorant intention, but he pourtrays one who makes a profession without care to
make it true—willfully despising the Lord's commands. He is a man willing to be
saved by grace, and professing to be so, but refusing to acknowledge his duty
to God and his obligations to the Son. He was speechless; he could not have
chosen a worse place, nor a more impertinent method of ventilating his
disloyalty than that which he selected; there was nothing he could say in
self-defense. At that moment, when the King looked him through and through, he
saw the full horror of his position; his loins were loosed, like Belshazzar of
old when he saw the handwriting on the wall; he saw now that his time to insult
was over, and the day of retribution had come. He was taken in the very fact,
and could not escape. He had been guilty of a superfluity of naughtiness, of an
unnecessary extravagance of wickedness in coming into the feast to air his
pride. He had committed a suicidal intrusion. He might have kept himself away
at any rate, and not have thrust himself into the Judge's presence. He saw now
that the cause of sedition was hopeless, the King was there and he was in his
power and none could rescue him. Why did he not burst into tears? Why did he
not confess the wrong? Why did he not say, "My king, I have insulted thee,
have pity upon me"? His proud heart would not let him. Sin made him
incapable of repentance. There is a verse in one of Hart's hymns which runs
thus—
"Fixed is their everlasting state:
Could they repent, 'tis now too late."
That is true enough, but it supposes an impossibility, and I
think it would have been far better to have said—
"Fixed is their everlasting state;
They can't repent, 'tis now too late."
Because the sinner goes on to sin he continues still to
suffer; he will not turn, he cannot turn. As the Ethiopian cannot change his
skin, nor the leopard his spots, so when sin has reached its height the man
cannot bend, or bow, or retrace his steps. Oh, if he could have repented even
then! But he could not; and the tears that came after the king had pronounced
the sentence where no tears of penitence, but only of despairing pride. He
stood speechless. It was not only that he had no excuse, but he would not
confess his wrong. Have I anyone here in such a condition of heart, that while
he has been sinning by making a false profession, and knows it, yet he sullenly
refuses to confess his fault? Yield thee, man! Yield at once. Fall at the
King's feet at once. Even if you are not a hypocrite, if you have any suspicion
that you are, fall down and say, "My King, make me sincere; I submit
myself to thy will, and am ready to put on the wedding badge; if there is any
method by which I can honour thy Son, I cavil not at it; let me wear his
colours, and be known by all men to be truly a lover of the great Prince."
But now, lastly, while he stood speechless in the king's
presence, the king gave place to THE EXECUTIONER, for he uttered these words,
"Bind him hand and foot." He was lawless, make him feel the law; he
said, "I am free, and I will do as I like," let him never be free
again; bind him, pinion him. Executioner, do your duty, prepare him for death.
Alas, there are some who are bound and pinioned even before the breath is out
of their bodies. In their dying hours false professors have often found that
they could not pray, and could not repent; like dying Spira, that
arch-hypocrite and apostate, they have been sensible of misery, but not
penitent, and no gospel promise has availed to comfort them. Their hearts were
seared, they were twice dead before they were dead. Then came the sentence,
"Take him away," which is sometimes executed by the church in her
excommunications—deceivers are taken away from the gospel feast by just
discipline; but which is more fully carried out in the hour of death when the
man's hope fails him. Ah, sirs, what will ye do if ye have no true grace in
your hearts when you are taken away from the Lord's table, taken away from the
baptism in which you gloried, taken away from the doctrines of the gospel which
you understood so well by head, but which you did not know in your heart. John
Bunyan's description of the man dragged by seven devils, bound with cords,
comes up before my mind. "Bind him hand and foot and take him away."
How thankful I am that the servants who brought them in are not the same who
were commanded to take them away. The Douloi brought them in, the diakonoi took
them away, the King has a special order of servants for the taking of deceivers
away; his angels do that in the hour of death—they execute his vengeance. He
gives us ministers a better office, he bids us be his heralds of mercy. Then
the judge said, "Cast him," fling him like a useless, worthless
thing. That wretch has dared pollute my marriage feast, cast him away, as men
fling weeds over the garden wall or shake off vipers into the fire. There is
none in heaven or earth thought more despicable, more fit to be thrown away as
rubbish and offal, than a man who had a Christian name, but had not the
essentials of the Christian nature. Cast him away. Where? "Into outer
darkness" far from the banquet hall where torches flame and lamps are
bright; drive him out into the cold, chilly midnight air. He has once seen the
light, it will be all the darker now for him when he is driven into the dark.
There is no darkness so dark as the darkness of the man who once saw light.
Cast him into outer darkness. What will he do there? We are not told what would
be done to him, it was not needful; we learn elsewhere as much as could be
revealed to us, but we are told what he did, for "there shall be weeping,"
not the gush of tears which gives relief but the everlasting dropping of
scalding tears which create fresh sorrow and enlarge their own source. The
outcast shed no tears of regret, but of sullen disappointment, because he could
not after all dishonour the king, and had even served to illustrate the royal
justice and power, and so had brought glory to the king whom he hated in soul.
Then came the "gnashing of teeth," caused by wrath and envy because
he could do no more mischief. No sorrow is equal to that of a malicious spirit,
that having attempted a daring deed of atrocious wickedness, has been defeated
and has contributed to the triumph of the good and excellent. The misery of
hell is not a misery which God arbitrarily creates, it is the necessary result
of sin, it is sin itself come to ripeness. Here you see the picture of the man
who was insolent enough to come into the church without being a Christian, and
now for ever he gnashes with his teeth against that glorious Majesty of heaven
which it will never be in his power to injure, but which it will always be in
his heart to hate; and this will be his hell—that he hates God, this his
darkness—that he cannot see beauty in God, and this the outerness of the
darkness—that he cannot enter into God's will. "Depart ye cursed," is
only love repelling that which is not lovely, it is only justice giving to man
what his fallen nature craved after. "Get away from me, ye did not honour
me; when ye did come to me it was with your lips only. Go where your hearts
were; depart from me, you cursed." Oh, may God grant that not one here may
come under the lash of this terrible parable, but may we be found of the Lord
in peace in the day of his appearing. You see, then, how the Lord sifts us.
First we are sifted by the preaching of the gospel, and many will not
come—there is one heap of chaff: next, by the judgment of God in his church,
and others are found wanting—there is another heap of chaff. Ah, when this is
done, and the two great sieves are used, shall we be found among the wheat?
Do you say, "the sermon has nothing to do with me, I
never made a profession, I shall go home easy enough." Come hither friend,
I must not let you go. There is a vagabond brought before the magistrate
accused of theft, he says he is perfectly innocent, but he is convicted and has
to suffer for it; after him comes a bragging fellow, who says, "I do not
make any profession of being honest, I rob anybody I can, and I mean to do so,
I do not pretend to keep the law." Why, methinks the magistrate would say,
"I condemned the one who did at least pretend to something decent, but to
you I give double punishment, you are evidently incorrigible, and your case
needs no consideration." You who do not say you are Christians, who
confess you are not, you avow yourselves the enemies of Christ; get no comfort
therefore out of this parable I pray you, but yield yourselves to the Saviour,
and believe in him, for he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.
PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON—Epistle of Jude.
The attention of all our friends is earnestly directed to
the SERIES OF SPECIAL SERVICES AT THE TABERNACLE. In order that London friends
may unite with us we publish the meetings week by week, and at the same time
our country friends can join with us in spirit:—
Lord's-day, February 26th.—Sermon to the Sabbath School and
young people generally. By C.H.S., at 3 p.m.
Monday, February 27th.—Prayer-meeting for females only, at
six. Young people's prayer-meeting at the same time. At seven, Elders and
Deacons will deliver addresses to the unconverted at the usual prayer-meeting.
Tuesday, February 28th.—Great meeting of butcher's men,
invited by Mr. Henry Varley. Addresses in the Tabernacle at 7. (Tickets.)
C.H.S. to preside.
Wednesday, March 1st.—Prayer-meetings at the houses of our
friends, according to the list, which will be issued. May the prayers of all
the households be heard in heaven.
Thursday, March 2nd.—Mothers' prayer-meeting at six. Meeting
for persons under concern of soul at half-past eight, after the lecture.
Fathers' prayer-meeting at 8:30.
Friday, March 3rd.—Meeting of our young friends
above fifteen, and yet unsaved. Tea at six. (Tickets to be had of the Eld
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