METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE PULPIT
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FRAGRANT GRACES
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A Sermon
Published on Thursday, October 7th, 1915.
Delivered by
C.H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
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"While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the
smell thereof."--Canticles 1:12.
THIS passage may be read in several ways. Literally, when Christ tabled
among men, when he did eat and drink with them, being found in fashion as
a man, the loving spirit broke the alabaster box of precious ointment on
his head while the king was sitting at his table. Three times did the
Church thus anoint her Lord, once his head and twice his feet, as if she
remembered his threefold office, and the threefold anointing which he had
received of God the Father to confirm and strengthen him. So she rendered
him the threefold anointing of her grateful love, breaking the alabaster
box, and pouring the precious ointment upon his head and upon his feet.
Beloved, let us imitate the example of those who have gone before. What!
though we cannot, as the weeping penitent, wash his feet with our tears,
and wipe them with the hairs of our head, like that gracious woman, we
may reck nothing, of fair adornments, or fond endowments, if we can but
serve his cause or honour his person. Let us be willing to "pour contempt
on all our pride," and "nail our glory to his cross." Have you anything
tonight that is dear to you? Resign it to him. Have you any costly thing
like an alabaster box hidden away? Give it to the King; he is worthy, and
when you have fellowship with him at his table, let your gifts be brought
forth. Offer unto the King thanksgiving, and pay your vows unto the Most
High.
But the King is gone from earth. He is seated at his table in
heaven, eating bread in the kingdom of God. Surrounded now not by
publicans and harlots, but by cherubim and seraphim, not by mocking
crowds, but by adoring hosts, the King sits at his table, and entertains
the glorious company of the faithful, the Church of the firstborn whose
names are written in heaven. He fought before he could rest. On earth he
struggled with his enemies, and it was not till he had triumphed over
all, that he sat down at the table on high. There sit, thou King of
kings, there sit until thy last enemy shall be made thy footstool. What
can we do, brethren, while Christ sits at the table above? These hands
cannot reach him; these eyes cannot see him; but our prayers, like sweet
perfume, set burning here on earth, can rise in smoke to the place where
the King sitteth at his table, and our spikenard can diffuse a perfume
even in heaven itself. Do you want to reach Christ? Your prayers can do
it. Would you now adore him; would you now set forth your love? With
mingled prayer and praise, like the offering of the morning and the
evening sacrifice, your incense can come up acceptably before the Lord.
And, brethren, the day is coming when the King shall sit at this
table in royal state. Lo, he cometh! Lo, he cometh. Let the Church never
forget that. The first advent is her faith; the second advent is her
hope. The first advent with the cross lays the foundation; the second
advent with the crown brings forth the topstone. The former was ushered
in with sighs; the latter shall be hailed with shoutings of "Grace, grace
unto it." And when the King, manifested and recognized in his sovereignty
over all lands, shall sit at his table with his Church, then, in that
blessed Millennium, the graces of Christians shall give forth their
odours of sweet savour.
We have thus read the text in three ways, and there is a volume in
each; but we turn over another page, for we want to read it in relation
to the spiritual presence of Christ as he doth now reveal himself to his
people. "When the King sitteth at his table"--that is, when we enjoy the
presence of Christ--"my spikenard giveth forth the smell thereof." Then
our graces are in active exercise, and yield a perfume agreeable to our
own soul and acceptable before God.
In the train of reflection I shall now attempt to follow, my
manner must be hurried; and should it seem feeble, brethren, I cannot
help it. If you get fellowship with Christ, I care little for the merits
of my sermon, or the perils of your criticism. One thing alone I crave,
"Let him kiss us with the kisses of his mouth"; then shall my soul be well
content, and so will yours be also. The first observation we make shall
be this:--
I. EVERY BELIEVER HAS GRACE IN POSSESSION AT ALL TIMES.
The text implies that when the King is not present the spikenard
yields no smell, but the spikenard is there for all that. The spouse
speaks of her spikenard as though she had it, and only wanted to have the
King come and sit at the table to make its presence known and felt. Ah!
well, believer, there is grace in thy heart, if thou be a child of God,
when thou canst not see it thyself; when thy doubts have so covered up
all thy hopes, that thou sayest, "I am cast out from his presence"; yet
for all that, grace may be there. When the old oak has lost its last leaf
by the howling blasts of winter; when the sap is frozen up in the veins,
and you cannot, though you search to the uttermost bough, find so much as
the slightest sign of verdant existence, still even then the substance is
in the tree when it has lost its leaves. And so with every believer,
though his sap seems frozen, and his life almost dead, yet if once
planted, it is there; the eternal life is there when he cannot discover
it himself. Do you know--if not, I pray you may never know
experimentally--that there are many things that keep a Christian's
spikenard from being poured out. Alas! there is our sin. Ah! shameful,
cruel sin! to rob my Master of his glory! But when we fall into sin, of
course, our graces become weak and yield no fragrance to God. And too,
there is our unbelief, which puts a heavy stone on all our graces, and
blows out the heat which was burning the frankincense, so that no altar-
smoke arises towards heaven. And often, it may be, it is our bitterness
of spirit, for when our mind is cast down we hang our harps upon the
willows, so that they give forth no sweet music unto God. And, above all,
if Christ be absent, if through neglect or by any other means our
fellowship with him is suspended, grace is there--but oh! it cannot be
seen. There is no comfort springing from it. But, beloved, though we
mention this to begin with, we rather choose to pass on and observe
that:--
II. GRACE IS NOT GIVEN TO A CHRISTIAN TO BE THUS HIDDEN, BUT
IT IS INTENDED THAT, LIKE SPIKENARD, IT SHOULD ALWAYS BE IN EXERCISE.
If I understand a Christian aright, he should be a man readily
discerned. You do not need to write upon a box that contains spikenard,
with the lid open, the word "Spikenard." You will know it is there; your
nostrils would tell you. If a man should fill his pockets with dust, he
might walk where he would, and though he should scatter it in the air,
few would notice it; but let him go into a room with his pockets full of
musk, and let him drop a particle about, he is soon discovered, because
the musk speaks for itself. Now true grace, like spikenard or any other
perfume, should speak for itself. You know our Saviour compares
Christians to lights. There is a crowd of people standing yonder; I
cannot see those who are in the shadow, but there is one man whose face I
can see well, and that is the man who holds the torch. Its flames light
up his face, so that we can catch every feature readily. So, whoever is
not discovered, the Christian should be obvious at once. "Thou also wast
with Jesus of Nazareth, for thy speech betrayeth thee." Not only should
the Christian be perceptible, but grace has been given to him that it
might be in exercise. What is faith, unless it is believing? What is
love, unless it is embracing? What is patience, unless it is enduring? To
what purpose is knowledge, unless it is revealing truth? What are any of
those sweet graces which the Master gives us, unless they yield their
perfume? I fear we do not enough gaze upon that face covered with the
bloody sweat, for if we did, as sure as the King was thus in our thoughts
sitting at his table, we should be more like him; we should love him
better; we should live more passionately for him, and should spend and be
spent, that we might promote his glory. I just note this point, and then
pass on, that believers' graces, like spikenard, are meant to give forth
their smell. But here is the pith of our whole subject, though we have
little time to linger upon it:--
III. THE ONLY WAY IN WHICH A CHRISTIAN'S GRACES CAN BE PUT
INTO EXERCISE IS THAT HE MUST HAVE THE PRESENCE OF THE MASTER.
He is called "the King." I am told that the Hebrew word is very
emphatic, as if it said, "The King"--the King of kings, the greatest of
all Kings. He must be such to us--absolute Master of our hearts, Lord of
our soul's domain, the unrivalled One in our estimation, to whom we
render obedience with alacrity. We must have him as King, or we shall not
have his presence to revive our graces. And when the King communes with
his people, it is said to be at "his table," not at ours. Specially may
this apply to the table of communion. It is not the Baptists' table; it
is not my table; it is his table, because if there is anything good on
it, remember, he spread it; nay, there is nothing on the table unless he
himself be there. There is no food to the child of God unless Christ's
body be the flesh, and Christ's blood the wine. We must have Christ. It
must be emphatically his table by his being present, by his spreading it,
his presiding at it, or else we have not his presence at all. I find the
Hebrew word here signifies a "round table." I do not know whether that is
intended which I understand by it--perhaps it is--it suggests to me a
blessed equality with all his disciples; sitting at his round table, as
if there were scarce a head, but he was one of themselves, so close the
communion he holds with them sitting at the table; so dear his
fellowship, sitting like one of themselves, made like unto his brethren
in all things at his round table.
Well, now, we say that when Christ comes into the ordinance of the
Lord's Supper, or any other ordinance, straightway our graces are
vigorous. How often have we resolved that we would live nearer to Christ!
Yet, though awe have resolved, and re-resolved, I fear it has all ended
with resolving. Peradventure we have prayed over our resolutions, and for
a little season we have sought it very earnestly, but our earnestness
soon expired, like every other fire that is of human kindling, and we
made but little progress. Be not disheartened, my beloved in the Lord: I
tell thee, whether thou art able to believe it or not, that if thy heart
be this night cold as the centre of an iceberg, yet if Christ shall come
to thee, thy soul shall be as coals of juniper, that have a most vehement
flame. Though to thy own apprehension thou seemest to be dead as the
bones in a cemetery, yet if Jesus come to thee, thou shalt forthwith be
as full of life as the seraphs who are as flames of fire. Why think you
he will not come to you? Do you not remember how he did melt you when
first he manifested himself to your soul? You were as vile then as you
are now; you were certainly as ruined then as you are now; you had no
more to merit his esteem then than you have now; you were as far off from
him then as you are now--I might say even further off. But lo! he came to
you when you did not seek him; he came in the sovereignty of his grace
and the sweetness of his mercy when you despised him. Wherefore, then,
should he not come to you now? Oh! breathe the prayer, tenderly and
hopefully breathe the prayer, "Draw me," and you will soon find power to
run, and when all your passions and powers are fled, the King will
speedily bring you into his chamber. Dark as your present state may be,
there are sure signs of breaking day. I want you, brethren, to believe
and to expect that you shall hold this night with Christ the richest,
sweetest fellowship that ever mortal was privileged to enjoy, and that of
a sudden. I know your cares--forget them. I know your sins--bring them to
his feet. I know the wandering of your heart--ask him to tether you to
his cross with the same cords that bound him to the pillar of his
flagellation. I know your brain is perplexed, and your thoughts flying
hither and thither, distracted with many cares--put on the thorn-crown,
and let that be the antidote of all your manifold disquietudes. Methinks
Jesus is putting in his hand by the hole of the door. Are not your bowels
moved for him? Rise up and welcome him; and as the bread is broken, and
the wine is passed round, come, and eat and drink of him, and be not
strange to him. "Let not conscience make you linger"; let not doubts and
fears hold you back from fellowship with him who loved you or ever the
earth was, but do rest your unworthy head upon his blessed bosom, and
talk with him, even though the only word you may be able to say may be,
"Lord, is it I?" Do seek fellowship with him, as one who ignores every
thought, feeling, or fact besides. So may it please him to manifest
himself to you and to me as he doth not to the world.
If you that have never had fellowship with Christ think I am
talking nonsense, I do not marvel. But let me tell you, if you had ever
known what fellowship with Christ means, you would pawn your eyes, and
barter your right arms, and give your estates away as trifles for the
priceless favour. Princes would sell their crowns, and peers would
renounce their dignities, to have five minutes' fellowship with Christ.
I will vouch for that. Why, I have had more joy in my Lord and Master in
the space of the ticking of a clock than could be crammed into a lifetime
of sensual delights, of the pleasures of taste, of the fascinations of
literature. There is a depth, a matchless depth, in Jesu's love. There is
a luscious sweetness in the fellowship with him. You must eat, or you will
never know the flavour of it. Oh! taste and see that the Lord is good!
Behold how ready he still is to welcome sinners. Trust him and live. Feed
on him, and grow strong. Commune with him, and be happy. May every one of
you who shall sit at the table have the nearest approach to Jesus that
you ever had! Like two streams that, after flowing side by side, at
length unite, so may Christ and our soul melt into one, even as Isis
melts into Thames, till only one life shall flow, so that the life we
live in the flesh shall be no more ours, but Christ that liveth in us.
Amen.
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Files of the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit are provided to ICLnet and
the internet community by the Bath Road Baptist Church, Kingston, Ontario,
Canada. The sermons are available in booklet form at the following address.
There is no charge for this service: Spurgeon Ministries
P.O. Box 1673
Kingston, Ontario
Canada
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