LITTLE SINS
DELIVERED
ON APRIL 17, 1859
BY THE REV. C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE MUSIC HALL,
“Is it not a little one?” — Genesis 19:20.
THESE words we shall take for a motto, rather than a text
in the ordinary
acceptation of that term. I shall not this morning attempt to explain
the
connection. It was the utterance of
of
Zoar; but I shall take it altogether away from the
connection in which it
stands, and make use of it in another fashion. The great Father
of Lies hath
multitudes of devices by which he seeks to ruin the souls of men. He
uses
false weights and false balances in order to deceive them.
Sometimes he
uses false times, declaring at one hour that it is too early to seek the
Lord,
and
at another that it is now too late. And he uses false quantities, for he
will declare that great sins are but little, and as for what he confesses to
be
little sins, he makes them afterwards to be nothing at all — mere
peccadilloes, almost worthy of forgiveness in themselves. Many souls, I
doubt not, have been caught in this trap, and being snared
thereby, have
been destroyed. They have ventured into sin where they thought the stream
was
shallow, and, fatally deceived by its depth, they have been swept away
by
the strength of the current to that cataract which is the ruin of such vast
multitudes of the souls of men.
It shall be my business this morning to answer this
temptation, and try to
put
a sword in your hands wherewith to resist the enemy when he shall
come upon you with this cry; — “Is it not a little one?” and tempt you into
sin
because he leads you to imagine that there is but very little harm in it.
“Is it not a little one?”
With regard then to this temptation of Satan concerning the
littleness of
sin,
I would make this first answer, the best of men have always been
afraid of little sins. The
holy martyrs of God have been ready to endure the
most terrible torments rather than step so much as one inch aside from the
road of truth and righteousness. Witness Daniel: when the king’s decree
went forth that no man should worship God for such and such a time,
nevertheless he prayed three times a day as aforetime, with his window
open towards
he
not have retired into an inner chamber? Why might he not have ceased
from vocal prayer, and have kept his petitions in his thought and in his
heart? Would he not have been as well accepted as when he
kneeled as
usual, with the window open, so that all the world might see
him? Ah! but
Daniel judged that little as the offense might seem, he
would rather suffer
death at the jaws of the lion, than he would by that little
offense provoke
the
anger of his God, or lead men to blaspheme his holy name, because his
servant had been afraid to obey. Mark, too, the
three holy children. They
are
asked by king Nebuchadnezzar simply to bend the knee and worship
the
golden image which he had set up. How slight the homage! One bend
of
the knee, and all is done. One prostration, and they
may go their way
safely. Not so. They will not worship the golden image which the
king has
set
up. They can burn for God, but they cannot turn from God. They can
suffer, but they will not sin; and though all the world might
have excused
them with the plea of expediency, if they had performed that one little act
of
idol worship, yet they will not do it, but would rather be exposed to the
fury of a furnace, seven times heated, than commit an offense against the
Most High. So also among the early Christians.
You may have read of that
noble warrior for Christ, Martin Arethusa, the bishop. He had
led the
people to pull down the idol temple in the city over which he
presided; and
when the apostate emperor Julian came to power, he commanded the
people to rebuild the temple. They were bound to obey on pain of
death.
But Arethusa all the while lifted up his voice against the
evil they were
doing, until the wrath of the king fell upon him of a sudden. He
was,
however, offered his life on condition that he would subscribe so
much as a
single half penny towards the building of the temple; nay, less
than that, if
he
would cast one grain of incense into the censer of the false god he might
escape. But he would not do it. He feared God, and he would not do
the
most tiny little sin to save his life. They therefore exposed his body, and
gave him up to the children to prick him with knives; then they smeared
him
with honey, and he was exposed to wasps and stung to death. But all
the
while the grain of incense he would not give. He could give his body to
wasps, and die in the most terrible pains, but he could not, he
would not,
he
dared not sin against God. A noble example!
Now, brethren, if men have been able to perceive so much of
sin in little
transgressions, that they would bear inconceivable tortures rather than
commit them, must there not be something dreadful after all in
the thing of
which Satan says, “Is it not a little one?” Men, with their eyes
well opened
by
divine grace, have seen a whole hell slumbering in the most minute sin.
Gifted with a microscopic power, their eyes have seen a
world of iniquity
hidden in a single act, or thought, or imagination of sin; and
hence they
have avoided it with horror, — have passed by and would have nought to
do
with it. But if the straight road to heaven be through flames, through
floods, through death itself, they had sooner go through all
these torments
than turn one inch aside to tread an easy and an erroneous path. I say this
should help us when Satan tempts us to commit little sins, — this
should
help us to the answer, “No, Satan, if God’s people think it great, they
know better than thou dost. Thou art a deceiver; they are true. I must shun
all
sin, even though thou sayest it is but little.” It
may be further answered,
in
reply to this temptation of Satan with regard to little sins, thus: —
“Little sins lead to great ones. Satan! thou
biddest me commit a small
iniquity. I know thee whom thou art, thou unholy one! Thou desirest me to
put
in the thin end of the wedge. Thou knowest when that
is once inserted
thou canst drive it home, and split my soul in twain. Nay, stand back!
Little
though the temptation be, I dread thee, for thy little temptation
leads to
something greater, and thy small sin makes way for something worse.”
We all see in nature how easily we may prove this, — that
little things lead
to greater things. If it
be desired to bridge a gulf, it is often the custom to
shoot an arrow, and cross it with a line almost as thin as film.
That line
passes over and a string is drawn after it, and after that some
small rope,
and
after that a cable, and after that the swinging suspension bridge, that
makes a way for thousands. So it is oft times with Satan. It is
but a thought
that he would shoot across the mind. That thought shall carry a desire; that
desire a look; that look a touch; that touch a deed; that deed a
habit; and
that habit something worse, until the man, from little beginnings, shall be
swamped and drowned in iniquity. Little things, we say, lead on to
something worse. And thus it has always been. A spark is dropped by
some
unwary traveler amidst the dry grass of the prairie. It is but a
spark; “Is it
not
a little one?” A child’s foot may tread it out; one drop from the raincloud
may
quench it. But ah! what sets the prairie in a blaze? what bids the
rolling waves of flame drive before them all the beasts of the
field? what is
it
that consumes the forest, locking it in its fiery arms? what
is it that burns
down the habitation of man, or robs the reaper of his harvest? It is this
solitary spark, — the one spark — the breeder of the flames. So is
it with
little sins. Keep them back Oh Satan! They be sparks, but the
very fire of
hell is only a growth from them. The spark is the mother of conflagration,
and
though it be a little one I can have nought to do
with it. Satan always
begins with us as he did with Achan. He
showed Achan, first of all, a
goodly Babylonish garment, and a wedge
of gold. Achan looked at it: was
it
not a little thing to do, — to look? Achan touched
it: was not that a little
thing? How slight a sin — to touch the forbidden thing! He takes
it, and
carries it away to his tent, and — here is worse, — he hides it. And
at
length he must die for the awful crime. Oh! take
heed of those small
beginnings of sin. Beginnings of sin are like the letting out of
water: first,
there is an ooze; then a drip; then a slender stream; then a
vein of water;
and
then, at last, a flood: and a rampart is swept before it, a continent is
drowned. Take heed of small beginnings, for they lead to worse.
There was
never a man yet that came to the gallows but confessed that he
began with
small thefts; — the stealing of a book at school — the pilfering,
afterwards,
from his master’s till leading to the joining of the gang of robbers, — the
joining of the gang of robbers leading to worse crimes and, at
last, the deed
was
done, the murder was committed, which brought him to an
ignominious death. Little sins often act as burglars do; — burglars
sometimes take with them a little child; they put the little child
into a
window that is too small for them to enter, and then he goes and
opens the
door to let in the thieves. So do little sins act.
They are but little ones, but
they creep in, and they open the door for great ones. A traitor inside the
camp may be but a dwarf, and may go and open the gates of the city and
let
in a whole army. Dread sin; though it be never so
small, dread it. You
cannot see all that is in it. It is the mother of ten thousand mischiefs. The
mother of mischief, they say, is as small as a midge’s egg; and
certainly, the
smallest sin has ten thousand mischiefs
sleeping within its bowels.
to
sin. There was a man who in argument declared that the devil made flies;
“Well,” said the man with whom he was arguing, “If the
devil made flies,
then it is but little more to say the devil made worms!” “Well” said the
other, “I believe it.” “ Well” said the
man, “ If the devil made worms, how
do
you know but what he made small birds?” “Well,” said the other, “ It is
likely he did!” “Well,” resumed the man with whom he was arguing,
“But if
he
made small birds, why may he not have made big ones? And if he made
big
birds, why may he not have made man? And if he made man, why may
he
have not made the world?” “You see,” says
admission, by once permitting the devil to be thought the creator of
a fly,
the
man came to believe that the devil was the Creator.” Just get one small
error into your minds, get one small evil into your thoughts,
commit one
small act of sin in your life, permit these things to be
dandled, and fondled,
favored, petted, and treated with respect, and you cannot tell
whereunto
they may grow. They are small in their infancy: they will be giants when
they come to their full growth. Thou little knowest
how near thy soul may
be
to destruction, when thou wantonly indulgest in the
smallest act of sin!
Another argument may be used to respond to this temptation
of the devil.
He says, “Is it not a little one?” “Yes,” we reply, “But
little sins multiply
very fast.” Like all other
little things, there is a marvelous power of
multiplication in little sins. As for murder, it is a masterly sin; but
we do
not
often hear of it compared with the multitude of minor sins. The smaller
the
guilt, the more frequent it becomes. The elephant hath but a small
progeny and multiplieth slowly. But the
aphis hath thousands springing
from it within an hour. It is even so with little sins: they multiply
rapidly,
beyond all thought — one becomes the mother of multitudes. And,
mark
this, little sins are as mighty for mischief in their multitude, as if they
were
greater sins. Have you ever read the story of the locusts when
they sweep
through a land? I was reading but yesterday of a missionary who
called all
the
people together when he heard that the locusts where coming up the
valley; and kindling huge fires, they hoped to drive off the
living stream.
The locusts were but small; but it seemed as if the whole
of the blazing
fires were quenched — they marched over the dead and burning
bodies of
their comrades, and on they went, one living stream. Before them
everything was green, like the garden of Eden; behind them everything
was
dry
and desert. The vines were barked, the trees had lost every leaf, and
stretched their naked arms to the sky, as if winter had rent away
their
foliage. There was not then so much as a single blade of grass, or
sprig
upon the tree, that even a goat might have eaten. The locusts had done all
this, and left utter devastation in their track. Why this? The locust is but
a
little thing! Ay, but in their number how mighty they become!
Dread then a
little sin, for it will be sure to multiply. It is not one, it is
many of these
little sins. The plague of lice, or the plague of flies in
the
most terrible that the Egyptians ever felt. Take care of those little insect
sins which may be your destruction. Surely if you are led to feel them, and
to
groan under them, and to pray to God for deliverance from them, it may
be
said that in your preservation is the finger of God. But let these sins
alone, let them increase and multiply, and your misery is near
at hand.
Listen not then to the evil voice of Satan when he cries, “Is
it not a little
one?”
Years ago there was not a single thistle in the whole of
Scotchman who very much admired thistles — rather more than
I do —
thought it was a pity that a great island like
that marvelous and glorious symbol of his great nation. He, therefore,
collected a packet of thistle-seeds, and sent it over to one of his
friends in
in;
‘is it not a little one?’ Here is but a handful of thistle-down, oh, let it
come in; it will be but sown in a garden — the Scotch will grow it in their
gardens; they think it a fine flower, no doubt, — let them have
it, it is but
meant for their amusement.” Ah, yes, it was but a little one;
but now whole
districts of country are covered with it, and it has become the
farmer’s pest
and
plague. It was a little one; but, all the worse for that, it multiplied and
grew. If it had been a great evil, all men would have set to work to crush
it.
This little evil is not to be eradicated, and of that
country it may be said till
doomsday, — “Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth.” Happy would
it
have been if the ship that brought that seed had been wrecked. No boon is
it
to those of our countrymen there on the other side of the earth, but a
vast curse. Take heed of the thistle-seed; little sins are like it. Take care
they are not admitted into your heart. Endeavor to shun them as soon as
Satan presents them. Go, seek by
the grace of God and his Holy Spirit to
keep them away; for if not, these little sins will multiply so fast, that
they
will be your ruin and destruction.
Once again; little sins, after all, if you look at them in
another aspect, are
great. A little sin involves a great principle. Suppose
that to-morrow the
Austrians should send a body of men into
dozen it would be equal to a declaration of war. It may be said,
“Is it not a
little one? — a very small band of soldiers
that we have sent?” “Yes,” it
would be replied, “but it is the principle of the thing. You
cannot be
allowed with impunity to send your soldiers across the border. War
must
be
proclaimed, because you have violated the frontier, and invaded the
land.” It is not necessary to send a hundred thousand troops into a country
to
break a treaty. It is true the breach of the treaty may appear to be small;
but
if the slightest breach be allowed, the principle is gone. There is very
much more in principle than men imagine. In a sin against God, it is not so
much the thing itself as the principle of the thing at which God looks; and
the
principle of obedience is as much broken, as much dishonored by a
little sin as by a great sin. O man! the
Creator hath made thee to obey him.
Thou breakest his law; thou sayst it is but a little breach. Still it is a breach.
The law is broken. Thou art disobedient. His wrath abideth on thee. The
principle of obedience is compromised in thy smallest transgression,
and,
therefore, is it great. Besides, I don’t know whether the things
Christian
men
call little sins are not, after all, greater than what they call great
sins,
in
some respects. If you have a friend, and he does you a displeasure for
the
sake of ten thousand pounds, you say, “Well, he had a very great
temptation. It is true he has committed a great fault, but still he
has
wronged me to some purpose.” But suppose your friend should vex
and
grieve your mind for the sake of a farthing; what would you think
of that?
“This is wanton,” you would say. “This man has done it out
of sheer
malevolence toward me.” Now, if Adam had been denied by his Maker the
whole of
had
he taken all
act,
than when placed in the midst of the garden, he simply stole one fruit
from the forbidden tree. The transgression involved a great principle,
because he did it wantonly. He had so little to gain,
he had so much to lose
when he dishonored God. It has been said, that to sin without temptation is
to
sin like the devil, for the devil was not tempted when he sinned; and to
sin
with but little temptation is to sin like the devil. When there is great
temptation offered, I do not say there is any excuse, but when there
is
none, where the deed is but little, bringing but little pleasure, and
involving
but
a small consequence, there is a wantonness about the sin which makes
it
greater in moral obliquity, than many other iniquities that men commit.
Ay, you cry out against a great felon, when he is
discovered; see of how
much he robbed men; see how he wronged the widow and robbed the
fatherless! I know it. God forbid that I should make any excuse for
him;
but
that man had a name to maintain. He had thousands of temptations
before him to get immensely rich. He thought he never should be
discovered. He had a family to keep. He had got involved in expensive
habits, and there are many things to be said for his extenuation.
But you, if
you
indulge in some slight sin which brings you no pleasure, which
involves no important interests, by which you have nothing to get,
I say
you
sin wantonly. You have committed an act which has in it the very virus
and
bitterness of wilful obstinate, designing
disobedience, because there is
not
even the extenuation, or excuse, or apology, that you should gain
something thereby. Little sins are, after all, tremendous sins,
viewed in the
light of God’s law. Looked upon as involving a breach of that
inviolable
standard of right, and considered as having been committed
wantonly, I say
they are great, and I know not that those sins men conceive to be gross and
great, are greater and grosser in reality than these.
Thus I have given you several arguments with which to
answer that
temptation, “Is it not a little one?”
Now I am about to speak to the child of God only, and I say
to him,
“Brother if Satan tempts thee to say, ‘Is it not a little
one?’” reply to him,
“Ah, Satan but little though it be, it may mar my
fellowship with Christ. Sin
cannot destroy but it will annoy; it cannot ruin my soul, but it
will soon
ruin my peace. Thou sayest it is a little one,
Satan, but my Savior had to
die
for it, or otherwise I should have been shut out from heaven. ‘That
little one’ may be like a little thorn in my flesh, to prick my
heart and
wound my soul. I cannot, I dare not indulge in this little sin,
for I have been
greatly forgiven, and I must greatly love. A little sin in others
would be a
great sin for me — ‘How can I do this great wickedness and sin
against
God.’”
Is it a little one, Satan? But a little stone in the shoe
will make a traveler
limp. A little thorn may breed a fester. A little cloud may hide the sun. A
cloud of the size of a man’s hand may bring a deluge of rain. Avaunt Satan!
I can have nought to do with
thee; for since I know that Jesus bled for little
sins, I cannot wound his heart by indulging in them afresh. A little sin,
Satan! Hath not my Master said, “Take us the foxes, the
little foxes that
spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes.” Lo! these little things do
mischief to my tender heart. These little sins burrow in my soul,
and soon
make it to become a very den and hole of the wild beasts that Jesus hates,
soon drive him away from my spirit so that he will hold no comfortable
fellowship and communion with me. A great sin cannot destroy a Christian,
but
a little sin can make him miserable. Jesus will not walk with his people
unless they drive out every known sin. He says, “If ye keep my
commandments ye shall abide in my love, even as I have kept my Father’s
commandments and abide in his love.” There are very many Christians in
the
world that do not see their Savior’s face by the month together, and
seem to be quite content without his company. I understand you not, nor
do
I wish to know how it is, that you can reconcile your souls to the
absence of your Lord. A loving wife, without her husband for
months and
years, seems to me to be sorely tried. Surely it must be an
affliction for a
tender child to be separated from his father. We know that in our
childhood it was always so, and we looked forward to our return home
with joy. And art thou a child of God, yet happy without seeing thy
Father’s face? What! thou the spouse of Christ,
and yet content without his
company! Surely, surely, surely, thou hast fallen into a sad
state. Thou
must have gone astray, if such be thy experience, for the true chaste spouse
of
Christ mourns like a dove without her mate, when he has left her. Ask,
then, the question, what has driven Christ from you? He hides his face
behind the wall of your sins. That wall may be built up of little
pebbles, as
easily as of great stones. The sea is made of drops, the rocks
are made of
grains; and ah! surely the sea which
divides thee from Christ may be filled
with the drops of thy little sins; and the rock which is to wreck thy barque,
may
have been made by daily working of the coral insects of thy little sins.
Therefore, take heed thereunto; for if thou wouldst live
with Christ, and
walk with Christ, and see Christ, and have fellowship with Christ, take
heed, I pray thee, of the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines
have
tender grapes.
And now, leaving the child of God thus awhile, I turn
myself to address
others of you who have some thought with regard to your souls,
but who
could not yet be ranked among those that fear God with a true
heart. To
you,
I know, Satan often offers this temptation — “Is it not a little one?”
May God help you to answer him whenever he thus attacks you. “Is it not
a
little one?” And so, young man, the devil has tempted thee to commit the
first petty theft. “Is it not a little one?” And so he has
bidden thee, young
man,
for the first time in thy life to spend the day of rest in foolish pleasure.
It was but a little one, he said, and thou hast taken him
at his word, and
thou hast committed it. It was but a little one, and so you have told a lie.
It
was
but a little one, and you have gone into the assembly of the frivolous
and
mixed in the society of scorners. It was but a little one, there could not
be
much hurt in it, it could not do much mischief to your soul. Ah! stop
awhile. Dost thou know that a little sin, if wantonly indulged,
will prevent
thy
salvation? “The foundation of God standeth sure
having this seal, the
Lord knoweth them that are his,
and let every one that nameth the name of
Christ depart from iniquity.”
Christ will reveal salvation from all his sins to
the
man who hates all his sins; but if thou keepest one
sin to thyself, thou
shalt never have mercy at his hands. If thou wilt forsake all
thy ways, and
turn with full purpose of heart to Christ, the biggest sin thou hast ever
committed shall not destroy thy soul; but if a little sin be
harbored, thy
prayers will be unheard, thy sighs disregarded, and thy earnest
cries shall
return into thy bosom without a blessing. You have been in prayer
lately,
you
have been seeking Christ, you have been praying with all your might
that God would meet with you. Now months have rolled over your head,
you
are not yet saved, not yet have you received the comfortable assurance
of
your pardon. Young man, is it not likely that some little known sin is
still harbored in your heart? Mark, then, God will never be at
one with thee
till thou and thy sins are twain. Part with thy sins, or else part with all
hope,
though thou hide but so much as a grain of sin back from God. He
will not,
he
cannot have any mercy on thee. Come to him just as thou art, but
renounce thy sins. Ask him to set thee free from every lust, from
every
false way, from every evil thing, or else, mark thee, thou shalt never find
grace and favor at his hands. The greatest sin in the world,
repented of,
shall be forgiven, but the least unrepented
sin shall sink thy soul lower than
the
lowest hell. Mark then, again, sinner, thou who indulgest
in little sins
sometimes. These little sins show that thou art yet in the gall of
bitterness,
and
in the bond of iniquity. Rowland Hill tells a curious tale of one of his
hearers who sometimes visited the theater. He was a member of the
church. So going to see him, he said, I understand Mr. So-and-so,
you are
very fond of frequenting the theater. No, sir, he said, that’s false. I go
now
and
then just for a great treat, still I don’t go because I like it; it is not a
habit of mine. Well, said Rowland Hill, suppose some one should
say to
me,
Mr. Hill, I understand you eat carrion, and I should say, no, no, I don’t
eat
carrion. It is true, I now and then have a piece of stinking carrion for a
great treat. Why, he would say, you have convicted yourself, it
shows that
you
like it better than most people, because you save it up for a special
treat. Other men only take it as common daily food, but you keep
it by way
of
a treat. It shows the deceitfulness of your heart, and manifests that you
still love the ways and wages of sin.
Ah, my friends, those men that say little sins have no vice
in them
whatever, they do but give indications of their own character; they
show
which way the stream runs. A straw may let you know which way
the wind
blows, or even a floating feather; and so may some little sin be
an
indication of the prevailing tendency of the heart. My hearer, if
thou lovest
sin,
though it be but a little one, thy heart is not right in the sight of God.
Thou art still a stranger to divine grace. The wrath of God
abideth on thee.
Thou art a lost soul unless God change thy heart.
And yet, another remark here. Sinner, thou sayest it is but a
little one. But
dost thou know that God will damn thee for thy little sins? Look angry
now,
and say the minister is harsh. But wilt thou look angry at thy God in
the
day when he shalt condemn thee for ever? If there
were a good man in
a
prison to-day and you did not go to see him, would you think that a great
sin?
Certainly not, you say, I should not think of doing such a
thing. If you
saw
a man hungry and you did not feed him, would you think that a great
sin?
No, you say, I should not. Nevertheless, these are the very things for
which men are sent to hell. What said the Judge? “I was hungry
and ye
gave me no meat, thirsty and ye gave me no drink, I was sick and in prison
and
ye visited me not. Forasmuch as ye have not done this unto the least of
these, my brethren, ye have not done it unto me.” Now, if these
things,
which we only consider to be little sins, actually send myriads
to hell, ought
we
not to stop and tremble ere we talk lightly of sin, since little sins may be
our
eternal destroyers. Ah, man, the pit of hell is digged
for little sins. An
eternity of woe is prepared for what men call little sins. It is
not alone the
murderer, the drunkard, the whoremonger, that shall be sent to
hell. The
wicked, it is true, shall be sent there, but the little sinner
with all the nations
that forget God shall have his portion there also. Tremble, therefore, on
account of little sins.
When I was a little lad, I one day read at family prayer
the chapter in the
Revelation concerning the “bottomless
pit.” Stopping in the midst of it, I
said to my grandfather, “Grandfather, what does this mean — ‘the
bottomless pit?’” He said, “Go on child, go
on.” So I read that chapter, but
I took great care to read it the next morning also.
Stopping again I said,
“Bottomless pit, what does this mean?” “Go on,” he said, “Go
on.” Well it
came the next morning, and so on for a fortnight; there was nothing to be
read by me of a morning but this same chapter, for explained it should be if
I read it a month. And I can remember the horror of my mind
when he told
me
what the idea was. There is a deep pit, and the soul is falling down, —
oh
how fast it is falling! There! the last ray of light
at the top has
disappeared, and it falls on — on — on, and so it goes on falling — on
—
on
— on — for a thousand years! “Is it not getting near the bottom yet?
won’t it stop?” No, no — the cry is, on — on — on, “I have been
falling a
million years, is it not near the bottom yet?” No, you are no
nearer the
bottom yet: it is the “bottomless pit;” it is on — on —
on, and so the soul
goes on falling, perpetually, into a deeper depth still, falling for ever
into
the
“bottomless pit” — on — on — on, into the pit that has no bottom!
Woe without termination, without hope of it’s coming to a
conclusion. The
same dreadful idea is contained in those words, “The wrath to come.”
Mark, hell is always “the wrath to come.” If a man has been
in hell a
thousand years, it is still “to come.” As to what you have suffered
in the
past it is as nothing, in the dread account, for still the wrath is “to
come.”
And when the world has grown grey with age, and the fires
of the sun are
quenched in darkness, it is still “the wrath to come.” And when
other
worlds have sprung up, and have turned into their palsied age, it
is still “the
wrath to come.” And when your soul, burnt through and through
with
anguish, sighs at last to be annihilated, even then this awful
thunder shall be
heard, “the wrath to come — to come — to come.” Oh, what an
idea! I
know not how to utter it! And yet for little sins, remember you incur “the
wrath to come.” Oh, if I am to be damned, I would be damned for
something; but to be delivered up to the executioner and sent into “the
wrath to come” for little sins which do not even make me famous
as a
rebel, this is to be damned indeed. Oh that ye would arise, that
ye would
flee from the wrath to come, that ye would forsake the little sins, and fly
to
the
great cross of Christ to have little sins blotted out, and little offenses
washed away. For oh, — again I warn you, — if ye die with little
sins
unforgiven, with little sins unrepented of,
there shall be no little hell; the
great wrath of the great king is ever to come, in a pit without
a bottom, in
a
hell the fire of which never shall be quenched, and the worm of which
ne’er shall die. Oh, “the wrath to come! the
wrath to come!” It is enough
to
make one’s heart ache to think of it. God help you to flee from it. May
you escape from it now, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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