Charles Spurgeon Sermons
Sermon #1005 - Lessons From Nature
Given on 13 August 1871, at Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
"Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees are her house. The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats, and the rooks for the conies."—Psalm 104:17-18.
His Psalm is all through a
song of nature, the adoration of God in the great outward temple of
the universe. Some in these modern times have thought it to be a
mark of high spirituality never to observe nature; and I remember
sorrowfully reading the expressions of a godly person, who, in
sailing down one of the most famous rivers in the world, closed his
eyes, lest the picturesque beauties of the scene should divert his
mind from scriptural topics. This may be regarded by some as
profound spirituality; to me it seems to savor of absurdity. There
may be persons who think they have grown in grace when they have
attained to this; it seems to me that they are growing out of their
senses. To despise the creating work of God, what is it but, in a
measure, to despise God himself? "Whoso mocketh the poor despiseth
his Maker." To despise the Maker, then, is evidently a sin; to think
little of God under the aspect of the Creator is a crime. We should
none of us think it a great honor to ourselves if our friends
considered our productions to be unworthy of admiration, and rather
injurious to their minds than improving. If when they passed our
workmanship they turned their eyes away, lest they should suffer
injury by looking at it, we should not regard them as very
respectful to ourselves; surely the despising of that which is made
is somewhat akin to the despising of the Maker himself. David tells
us that "The Lord shall rejoice in his works." If he rejoices in
what he has made, shall not those who have communion with him
rejoice in his works also? "The works of the Lord are great, sought
out of them that have pleasure therein." Despise not the work, lest
thou despise the worker.
This prejudice against the
beauties of the material universe reminds me of the lingering love
to Judaism, which acted like a spell upon Peter of old. When the
sheet knit at the four corners descended before him, and the voice
said, "Rise, Peter; kill, and eat," he replied that he had not eaten
anything that was common or unclean. He needed that the voice should
speak to him from heaven again and again before he would fully learn
the lesson, "What God hath cleansed that call not thou common." The
Jew thinks this and that unclean, though Christ has cleansed it; and
certain Christians appear to regard nature as unclean. The birds of
the air, and the fish of the sea, the glorious sunrise and sunset,
the snow-clad Alps, the ancient forests, the mysterious glaciers,
the boundless ocean, God hath cleansed them: call them not common.
Here on this earth is Calvary where the Savior died, and by his
sacrifice, offered not within walls and roofs, he made this outer
world a temple wherein everything doth speak of God's glory. If thou
be unclean, all things will be unclean to thee; but if thou hast
washed thy robe and made it white in the blood of the Lamb, and if
the Holy Spirit hath overshadowed thee, then this world is but a
nether heaven; it is but the lower chamber of which the upper story
glows with the full splendor of God, where angels see him face to
face, and this lower story is not without glory, for in the person
of Christ Jesus we have seen God, and have communion and fellowship
with him even now.
It appears to me that those who
would forbear the study of nature, or shun the observation of its
beauties, are conscious of the weakness of their own spirituality.
When the hermits and monks shut themselves out from the temptations
of life, foolish persons said, "These are strong in grace." Not so,
they were so weak in grace that they were afraid to have their
graces tried. They ran away from the battle like the cowards they
were, and shut themselves up because they knew their swords were not
of the true Jerusalem metal, and they were not men who could resist
valiantly. Monasticism was the confession of a weakness which they
endeavored to cover with the vain show of humility, and the presence
of superior sanctity. If my graces are strong, I can look upon the
outward world, and draw forth its good without feeling its evil, if
evil there be; but if my religion is mainly fictitious, then
hypocrisy dictates to me the affectation of unusual spirituality, or
at any rate I have not grace enough to rise from a contemplation of
the works of God to a nearer fellowship with God himself. It cannot
be that nature of itself debases me, or diverts me from God; I ought
to suspect a deficiency in my self when I find that the Creator's
handiworks have not a good effect upon my soul.
Moreover, rest assured brethren,
that he who wrote the Bible, the second and clearest revelation of
his divine mind, wrote also the first book, the book of nature; and
who are we that we should derogate from the worth of the first
because we esteem the second. Milton's "Paradise Regained" is
certainly inferior to his "Paradise Lost," but the Eternal God has
no inferior productions, all his works are master-pieces. There is
no quarrel between nature and revelation, fools only think so: to
wise men the one illustrates and establishes the other. Walking in
the fields at eventide, as Isaac did, I see in the ripening harvest
the same God of whom I read in the word that he covenanted that
seed-time and harvest should not cease. Surveying the midnight
skies, I remember him who, while he calls the stars by their names,
also bindeth up the broken in heart. Who will may neglect the volume
of creation, or the volume of revelation, I shall delight in them
both as long as I live.
Let us, then, follow David this
morning, for when he wrote our text, he evidently traveled amongst
the works of God, admiring and adoring. Let us go with him, and see
if there be not something to be learned among the birds and storks,
the wild goats and the conies.
I. Our first observation from our
text shall be this: FOR EACH PLACE GOD HAS PREPARED A SUITABLE FORM
OF LIFE. For the fir trees, the stork; for the high hills, the wild
goat, or steinbock; for the rocks, the conies, or rabbits. Almost
every part of God's world was meant to be the abode of some creature
or another. On earth, a countless company wait upon the Lord for
meat; and as for the sea, it contains "creeping things innumerable,
both small and great beasts." Among the trees which shade the
brooks, the birds are singing; in the tall sombre pine, the silent
storks are building their nests; on the lofty crags, virgin as yet
to human foot, the chamois leaps from ledge to ledge; and away,
where human voice was never heard, the marmot, the mouse, and the
rabbit (whichever creature the Hebrew may mean) find their
dwelling-place among the rocks. The teaching of this fact is clear.
We shall find that for all parts of the spiritual universe God has
provided suitable forms of divine life. Think out that thought a
moment. Each age has its saints. The first age had its holy
men, who walked with God: and when the golden age had gone, and men
everywhere had polluted themselves, God had his Noah. In after days,
when men had again multiplied upon the face of the earth, and sin
abounded, there was Job in the land of Uz, and Abraham, and Isaac,
and Jacob dwelling in tents in the land which had been given to them
by promise. On whatever period of the world's history you choose to
place your finger you may rest assured that as God is there, so is
there also some form of the divine life extant; some of God's twice
born creatures are to be found even in the most barren ages. If you
come to a period like that of Ahab, when a lonely Elijah bitterly
complains, "I, only I am left, and they seek my life to destroy it,"
you shall hear a still small voice that saith, "Yet have I reserved
unto myself seven thousand men that have not bowed the knee to
Baal." God has still his elect remnant in the most wicked times to
whom he has given a banner, because of the truth. When the light was
almost gone from Israel, and formalism had eclipsed the sun of
Judaism, there were still a Simeon and an Anna waiting for the
coming of the Messiah. Times of fearful persecution, when to mention
the name of Christ was to sentence yourself to death, have not been
devoid of saints, but rather in the hottest times of oppression God
has brought forth heroes equal to the emergency. The fiercer the
trial the stronger the men. The church of God, like the fabled
Salamander, has lived and flourished amid the flames, and has seemed
to feed upon the flames that threatened to devour her. As on the
crags where it appears impossible for life to exist God places wild
goats, so on the high crags of persecution he upholds men whose feet
are like hind's feet, and who glory as they tread upon their high
places. Oppression brings out the heavenly manhood of the saints and
lets the devil see what strength God can put into the weakness of
man. There have been times of heresy too—such as the age of rampant
Arianism, but saints have outlived it. God has provided for such an
emergency brave defenders of the faith. What a man was Athanasius,
when standing upright and alone he said, "I know that Jesus Christ
is very God, and if all the world believe the contrary, I,
Athanasius, stand against the world." Sardis may have a name to live
and be dead, but the Lord saith, "thou hast a few names even in
Sardis which have not defiled their garments, and they shall walk
with me in white, for they are worthy." Is not this an encouraging
truth, for as it has been in the past it is in the present, and it
will be in the future. Do not give way to gloomy forebodings as to
the church's future welfare. Whine not with those who deplore these
evil days, and prognosticate overwhelming ills. We are told that we
are passing through a crisis, but I recollect that it was a crisis
twenty years ago, and our grandsires could tell us of a crisis every
year of the last fifty. The fact is there is no such crisis as is
talked of. The crisis is past, for Christ said, "Now; is the
crisis of this world, now shall the prince of this world be cast
out." When Jesus went to Golgotha and bled and died, the crisis of
the church and of the world was over; the victory of truth and of
Christ was secured beyond all hazard. Even if times should darken
and the night should grow thicker and thicker, rest assured that he
who has the conies for the rocks, and goats for the high hills, and
finds for the forests the stork, will find for every age a suitable
form of Christian life that shall bring glory to his name.
As it has been in every age, so
is it in every position in which men are found. Go into all
classes of society, and you shall find that the Christian religion,
if received in truth, is equally well adapted for all conditions.
Here and there upon the throne have been found those that have
feared God, and have gone from a crown on earth to a crown in
heaven. There can be no better qualification for swaying a kingdom
than obedience to the King of kings. Go straight down from the
palace to the poor-house, little enough of comfort there, but the
richest consolation which can be found for the meanest pauper, will
be brought by that hand which was nailed to the tree. He it is that
can console the sorrows of poverty as well as sanctify the risks of
wealth. Go ye where ye will amongst the busy, whose cares buzz
around them, and you shall find no relief for aching heads like a
contemplation of the love of Christ: or go amongst those who have
leisure, and spend it in solitude, no meditation can be so sweet to
while away their hours as the meditation which springs out of the
Gospel of Jesus Christ. Glory be to God, no man need say, "My trade
does not permit me to be a Christian;" if it be so, you have no
business to follow that trade, for no lawful calling is without its
saint. Up there among the precipices the wild goat finds safe
footing, and so amid dignity and honor saints can survive, and in
the dark rock-rifts of this sin-smitten city, as conies live among
the rocks, so Christian men are useful and happy. Where the believer
is persecuted on every side, he shall not be forsaken, and where,
through the example of the wicked, his heart is grieved, he shall be
preserved like righteous Lot. As God maintains life in every region,
so doth he maintain spiritual life in every position and every
calling. Have comfort in this you who are placed in circumstances
unfavourable to grace.
Again, you shall find spiritual
life in every church. I know it is the notion of the bigot,
that all the truly godly people belong to the denomination which he
adorns. Orthodoxy is my doxy; heterodoxy is anybody else's doxy who
does not agree with me. All the good people go to little Bethel, and
nowhere else: they all worship at Zoar, and they sing out of
such-and-such a selection, and as for those who cannot say
Shibholeth, and lay a pretty good stress on the "h," but who
pronounce it "Sibboleth;"let the fords of the Jordan be taken, and
let them be put to death. True, it is not fashionable to roast them
alive, but we will condemn their souls to everlasting perdition,
which is the next best thing, and may not appear to be quite so
uncharitable. Many suppose that because there is grievous error in a
church, concerning an ordinance or a doctrine, therefore no living
children of God are there. Ah, dear brethren, this severe opinion
arises from want of knowing better. A mouse had lived in a box all
its life, and one day crawled up to the edge of it, and looked round
on what it could see. Now the box only stood in a lumber room, but
the mouse was surprised at its vastness, and exclaimed: "How big the
world is!" If some bigots would get out of their box, and only look
a little way round them, they would find the realm of grace to be
far wider than they dream. It is true that these pastures are a most
proper place for sheep, but yet upon yonder hill-tops wild goats are
pastured by the Great Shepherd. It is true that yonder plains
covered with verdure are best fitted for cattle, but the Lord of all
has his beasts in the forest, and his conies among the rocks. You
may have to look a long while before you find these living things,
but he sees them when you do not, and it is a deal more
important to a cony for God to see it, than it is for a man to see
it; and so it is an infinitely more weighty matter for a child of
God for his Father to know that he is his child, than for his
brother to know it. If my brother will not believe me to be a
Christian, he cannot help being my brother; he may do what he will
in his unkindness, but if I am one of God's children, and he also is
one, the tie of brotherhood cannot be broken between us. I love to
think that the Lord has his hidden ones—even in churches that have
sadly degenerated from the faith; and, although it is yours and mine
to denounce error unsparingly, and with the iconoclastic hammer to
go through the land and break the idols of all the churches in
pieces as far as God gives us strength, yet there is not a lamb
amongst Christ's flock that we would disdain to feed—there is not
the least of all his people, however mistaken in judgment, whom our
soul would not embrace an ardent love. God, in nature, has placed
life in singular spots, and so has he put spiritual life into
strange out-of-the-way places, and has his own chosen where least we
should look for them.
Once more, there are to be found
God's people in every city. Some of you are going away, it
may be, to the ends of the earth, and this word may be comfortable
to you. The Lord has an elect people everywhere. The wild goats are
on the rocks, and the conies amongst the stones, and the storks in
the trees. Go you where you will, you shall find that God has a
living people; or if you should be sent to a country where as yet
there are no converted men or women, let not that discourage you,
but rather say, "I am sent with the purpose of finding out God's
elect, who as yet are hidden in sin. I am to be the instrument of
finding out the Lord's own blood-bought but hidden ones here." When
thou goest into a city that is given to idolatry, thou shalt hear it
said to thee, "I have much people in this city;" go, therefore, and
labor to find out the much people. Introduce the gospel, tell of the
love of Jesus, and you shall soon find that your efforts are
rewarded by the discovery of those who shall love your Savior, and
delight in the same truth which now charms your heart. Do not
believe that there is a rock without its wild goat; do not think
that there is a fir-forest without its stork; or that there are to
be found trees by the brook without their birds. Expect to find
where God dwells that there are some who are sojourners with him, as
all their fathers were.
I shall leave the first point,
repeating the sentence, for each place there a form of life.
II. Secondly, the text teaches us
plainly that EACH CREATURE HAS ITS APPROPRIATE PLACE. Birds with
their nests for the cedars of Lebanon, storks for the fir trees,
wild goats for the high hills, and conies for the rocks. Each of
these creatures looks most beautiful at home. Go into the Zoological
Gardens, and see the poor animals there under artificial conditions,
and you can little guess what they are at home. A lion in a cage is
a very different creature from a lion in the wilderness. The stork
looks wretched in his wire pen, and you would hardly know him as the
same creature if you saw him on the housetops or on the fir trees.
Each creature looks best in its own place. Take that truth, now, and
use it for yourself. Each man has by God a providential position
appointed to him, and the position ordained for each Christian is
that in which he looks best; it is the best for him and he is the
best for that; and if you could change his position, and shift him
to another, he would not be half as happy, nor half as useful, nor
half so much himself. Put the stork on the high hills, put the wild
goat on the fir trees—what monstrosities! Take my dear brother who
has been a working-man this last twenty years, and always been a
spiritually-minded man, and make him Lord Mayor of London, and you
would spoil him altogether. Take a good hearer and set him
preaching, and he would make a sorry appearance. A man out of place
is not seen to advantage, you see the wrong side of him, the
gracious side is hidden. The position in which God has placed me is
the best for me. Let me remember this when I am grumbling and
complaining. It may be I have got past that foolish discontent which
is altogether selfish, but perhaps I repine because I think, if I
were in a different position, I could glorify God more. This species
of discontent is very insinuating, but let us beware of it. It is
foolish to cry, "if I were placed in a different position, I could
do so much more for God!" You could not do so much as you can do
now. I am sure the goat would not show the wisdom of God so well in
a fir tree, as he would up on a high hill; and you would not display
the grace of God so well anywhere else as you can do where you are.
Ah, says the young Christian, "I am only an apprentice; if I were a
master man, I think I could then glorify God." Sir, if you cannot
magnify him in your apprenticeship, you will not do so when you
become a journeyman. "Oh, but my shop is so little, my trade brings
me in such a small amount, I can give but little, and I have such
few opportunities of doing good." Be slow to leave your calling till
you have plain indications from providence that you ought to do so,
for many a man in moving from his place has been as a bird that has
wandered from her nest. God knows better than you what is best for
you; bow your soul to his sovereign will. God appoints our position
infinitely better than we could appoint it, even it we could have
the choosing of it.
My beloved friends, it is not
only that each form of life has its own best position as to
providence, but it is so as to experience. God has not made
two creatures precisely alike. You shall gather leaves from a tree,
and you shall not find two veined in precisely the same way. In
Christian experience it is the same. Wherever there is living
Christian experience, it is different from everybody else's
experience in some respect. In a family of children each child may
be like its father, and yet each child shall be different from each
other child; and amongst the children of God, though they all have
the likeness of Christ in a measure, yet are they not all exactly
the one like the other. You read the other day the life of John
Bunyan, and you said, "Oh, if I had experience like John Bunyan,
then I should know I was a child of God." This was foolish. The
biographies that are published in our magazines in many cases do
some good, but more mischief; for there are Christian people who
begin at once to say, "Have I felt precisely thus? Have I felt
exactly that?—If not, I am lost." Hast thou felt thyself a sinner
and Christ a Savior? Art thou emptied of self and dost thou look to
Christ alone? Well, if no other soul hath trod the same path as thou
hast done, thou art in a right path; and though thy experience may
have eccentricities in it that differ from all others, it is right
it should be so. God has not made the wild goat like the cony, nor
has he made the stork like any other bird, but he has made each to
fit the place it is to occupy, and he makes your experience to be
suitable to the bringing out some point of his glory, which could
not be brought out otherwise. Some are full of rejoicing, others are
often depressed; a few keep the happy medium; many soar aloft, and
then dive into the deeps again; let these varied experiences, as
they are all equally clear phases of the same divine lovingkindness,
be accepted, and let them be rejoiced in.
The same holds good as to
individuality of character. Each creature has its appropriate
place, and I believe that each constitution is meant, under the
power of grace, to be suitable for a man's position. I might wish to
be of a different temperament from what I am—I sometimes think so,
but in wiser moments, I would not wish to alter anything in myself
but that which is sinful. Martin Luther might have wished that he
had been as gentle as Melancthon, but then we might have had no
reformation: Melancthon might certainly sometimes have wished that
he had been as energetic as Martin Luther, but then Luther might
have lacked his most tender comforter, if Melancthon had been as
rough as he. Peter might have been improved if he had not been so
rough, and John might possibly have been improved if he had been
somewhat more firm; but after all, when God makes Peter he is best
as Peter, and when he makes John he is best as John, and it is very
foolish when Peter wants to be John, and when John pines to be
Peter. Dear brethren, the practical matter is, be yourselves in your
religion. Never attempt to counterfeit another's virtues, nor try to
square your experience according to another man's feelings, nor
endeavor to mould your character so that you may look as if you were
like a certain good man whom you admire. No, ask the Lord, who made
a new man of you, to let your manhood come out as he meant it, and
whichever grace he meant to be prominent, let it be prominent. If
you are meant to play the hero and rush into the thick of the
battle, then let courage be developed; or if he designed you to lie
in the hospital and suffer, then let patience have its perfect work;
but ask the Lord to mould you after his own mind, that as he finds a
stork for a fir tree and a fir tree for a stork; a hill for a wild
goat, and a wild goat for a hill; he will find a place for you, the
man, and find for you, the man, the place that he has created for
you, There his name shall be most glorified, and you shall be
safest. Kick not against the pricks, but take kindly to the yoke,
and serve your day and generation till your Master calls you home.
III. Now, briefly, a third point.
It appears from the text that EVERY CREATURE THAT GOD HAS MADE IS
PROVIDED WITH SHELTER. Birds fly to the trees, and the stork to the
fir, the wild goat to the high hills, and the cony to the rocks.
There is a shelter for every one of these creatures, great and
small. Think a moment, then, if God has made each creature happy,
and given a place of refuge to each creature, then, depend upon it,
he has not left man's soul without a shelter. And here is an
important truth, for every man is certainly in danger, and every
thinking man knows it. My God, dost thou shield and shelter the cony
in the rock, and is there no rock for me to shelter in? Assuredly
thou hast not made man and left him without a refuge; when thou
givest to the rock-rabbit the cleft in which he may hide himself,
there must be a shelter for man. This must certainly be true,
because you and I, if we have observed our inner life, must have
felt conscious that nothing here below can fill an immortal soul.
You have prospered in business, and have enjoyed good health; but
for all that, in quiet moments of reflection, you feel a craving for
something not to be found beneath the sun. Have you not felt
yearnings after the Infinite,—hungerings which bread cannot satisfy;
thirstings which a river could not quench? And are you never
conscious—I know I am as a man, I speak not as a Christian now—of
cold shiverings of fear, which make the entire manhood to tremble?
The mind looks forward and considers, "And shall I live for ever?
When my body moulders, shall I continue? Am I a vessel launched upon
the river of existence, and shall I be borne onward to a shoreless
and mysterious sea? And what will be that sea, and will it be a
calm, or tossed with storms?" Or, to change the figure, "I shall
sleep, but in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?" Have you
never felt all that, and said within yourself, "O that there were a
place where I could hide myself, never to tremble more! O that I
could grasp something that would satisfy my insatiable lodgings! O
that I could get my foot upon a rook, and no longer feel that a
quicksand is beneath me! O that I knew of truth sure and
indisputable, and possessed a treasure that would enrich me for
ever." Well, then, if you have such longings as these, surely there
must be a provision to meet them. The stork has an instinct for
building a nest of a certain sort; it is too large a nest to be
placed on a bush, she needs a tree; there is a tree somewhere then,
for God never made a stork for a tree but he made also a tree for
the stork. Here is a wild goat: you put it down on a flat meadow,
and it is not happy. Give it the greenest pasture, it looks up and
pines. Rest assured that since those little feet are meant to
traverse rocks and crags, there are rocks and crags that are meant
for those feet to leap upon. A chamois argues an Alps, and the
conclusion is verified by fact. Yonder little cony cannot live
anywhere but among the stones; it delights to conceal itself in the
fissures of the rock; then be assured there are rocks meant for
conies. So for me, with my thirstings, my longings, my pipings, my
mysterious instincts—there is a God somewhere, there is a heaven
somewhere, there is an atonement somewhere, there is a fullness
somewhere to meet my emptiness. Man wants a shelter, there must be a
shelter; let us show you what it is.
Beloved, there is a shelter for
man from the sense of past guilt. It is because we are guilty that
we are fearful: we have broken our Maker's law, and therefore we are
afraid. But our Maker came from heaven to earth; Jesus, the Christ
of God, came here, and was made man, and bore that we might never
bear his Father's righteous wrath, and whosoever believeth in Jesus
shall find perfect rest in those dear wounds of his. Since Christ
suffered for me, my guilt is gone, my punishment was endured by my
Substitute, therefore do I hear the voice that saith, "Comfort ye,
comfort ye my people! Say unto them, that their warfare is
accomplished; for they have received at the Lord's hand double for
all their sins." And as for future fears, he who believes in Jesus
finds a refuge from them in the Fatherhood of God. He who trusts
Christ, says: "Now I have no fear about the present, nor about the
future. Let catastrophe follow catastrophe, let the world crash, and
all the universe go to ruin; beneath the wings of the Eternal God I
must be safe. All things must work together for my good, for I love
God, and have been called according to his purpose." What a blessed
shelter this is! The little conies in their rock-clefts are
perfectly at ease, and so we, when we enter fully into the truth of
our adoption of God, are filled with unutterable peace. And as for
the present, with its cares, and griefs, and heart-throbs, there is
the Holy Ghost abiding in us, the Comforter, and we fly to him, and
receive consolations so rich and powerful, that this day we feel at
peace in the midst of discomforts, and if perplexed we are not in
despair. Brethren, there is a shelter in the atonement of Christ, in
the Fatherhood of God, in the abiding presence of the
Comforter—there is a shelter for man—would God that all of us had
found it!
IV. And now just a moment of your
attention will be wanted for the fourth observation, that FOR EACH
CREATURE THE SHELTER IS APPROPRIATE. The tree for the bird; the fir
tree, a particular and special tree, for the stork; a high hill for
the steinbock or ibex, and the rocks for the hyrax or rabbit.
Whatever creature it may be, each shall have his own suitable
shelter. But you will reply to me, is there a shelter, then, for
each individual man? Did you not say that there was only one shelter
for manhood? If I did not say it, I certainly will say it now. There
is only one shelter under heaven or in heaven for any man of woman
born, but yet there is a shelter suitable for each. Christ Jesus
suits all sorts of sinners, all sorts of sufferers. He is a Savior
as suitable for me as if he came to save me and no one else; but he
is a Redeemer as remarkably suitable to every other of his redeemed
ones. Note, then, that there is a refuge in Christ Jesus for those
simple trustful natures that take the gospel at once and believe it.
These are like the little birds that fly to the trees and build
their nests and begin to sing. These are the commonest sort of
Christians, but in some respects they are the best. They hear the
gospel, believe it to be God's word, accept it, and begin to sing.
Jesus Christ exactly suits them, he is a shelter for those chosen
birds of the air, whom your heavenly Father daily feed. But there
are others of larger intellect, who require unusual support ere they
can build their nest and be at ease. These, like the stork, need a
special support, and they find it in the gospel. Since they are more
weighty with doubt and perplexity, they need substantial verities to
rest on; these find great fir-tree doctrines and cedar-like
principles in the Bible, and they rest in them. Many of us this day
are resting on the immutable things wherein it is impossible for God
to lie. We rest upon the substitution of Christ, and repose in the
completeness of the atonement. Some get hold of one great principle
and some another in connection with the grace of God; and God has
been pleased to reveal strong, immovable, eternal, immutable
principles in his Word which are suitable for thoughtful and
troubled minds to rest on. Moreover, we have in the church of God
persons of great reasoning powers: these love the craggy paths of
thought, but when they come to Christ and trust in him, though they
are like the wild goat and love the high places, they find in the
Scriptures good ground for them. The doctrine of election, and all
the mysteries of predestination, the deep and wonderful doctrines
that are spoken of by the apostle Paul; where is the man of thought
who will not be at home among these if he loves sublimity? If you
have that turn of mind which delights to deal with the high things
of God, which have been the perplexity of men and angels, you shall
find yourself at home, and what is better, safe with the gospel. If
you are in Christ, you shall have good, solid, safe material for the
profoundest meditations. Perhaps, instead of being bold and daring
and thoughtful, you are not comparable to the wild goat but you are
"a very timid trembling little creature like the cony. If anyone
claps his hands, away runs the cony; he fears always. But there is a
shelter for conies; and so in the grace of God for very timid
trembling people, there is a suitable refuge. Here is a delightful
shelter for some of you to run into. "Fear not, I am with thee; be
not dismayed, I am thy God." Here is another—"Him that cometh to me
I will in no wise cast out." Many a poor trembler has hidden under
that condescending word. If I cannot find shelter in one text, what
a blessing it is the Bible is full of promises, and there are
promises in the Bible which seem made for a certain form of mind, as
if the Holy Ghost cast his thoughts and his words into all sorts of
moulds to suit the habits of thought and mind of all whom he would
bless. O trembling soul, though thou art half afraid to say that
thou belongest to Jesus, yet come and rest in him, hide in the rift
of his side, and thou art safe.
V. Now we must close, and we do
so with this observation, that EACH CREATURE USES ITS SHELTER, for
the storks have made their nests in the fir trees, and the wild
goats climb the high hills, and the conies hide among the rocks. I
never heard of one of these creatures that neglected its
shelter—they love their natural abodes; but I have heard of men who
have neglected their God, I know women who have forgotten Christ. We
say, "silly sheep." Ah, if the sheep knew all about us, they would
wonder we should call them silly. The cony in danger which does not
seek its rock is foolish; but the soul in danger which does not seek
its Savior is insane—insane, nay, if there can be a madness which is
as much beyond madness, as madness is beyond sanity, then such is
the raving lunacy of a man who neglects the Savior. I have never
heard of any of these creatures that they despise the shelter
provided. The birds are satisfied with the trees, and the stork with
the firs, and even the cony with its rock-hole; but, alas! there are
men who despise Christ. God himself becomes the shelter of sinners,
and yet sinners despise their God. The Son of God opens his side and
lays bare his heart that a soul may come and shelter there in the
crimson cleft, and yet that soul for many a day refuses to accept
the shelter. Oh, where are tears? Who shall give us fit expressions
for our sorrow that men should be such monsters to themselves, and
to their God? The ox knoweth its owner, and the ass its master's
crib; but men know not God. The stork knows its fir tree, the wild
goat its crag, and the cony knows its cleft, but the sinner knows
not his Christ. Ah, manhood, what has befallen thee? What strange
wine of Gomorrah hast thou drank which has thus intoxicated thee!
One other thing, I never heard of
a stork that when it met with a fir tree demurred as to its right to
build its nest there, and I never heard of a cony yet that
questioned whether it had a permit to run into the rock. Why these
creatures would soon perish if they were always doubting and fearing
as to whether they had a right to use providential provisions. The
stork says to himself, "ah, here is a fir tree;" he consults with
his mate—"Will this do for the nest in which we may rear our young?"
"Ay" says she, and they gather the materials, and arrange them.
There is never any deliberation, "May we build here?" but they bring
their sticks and make their nest. So the wild goat on the crag does
not say, "Have I a right to be here?" No! he must be somewhere, and
there is a crag which exactly suits him; and he springs upon it. Yet
though these dumb creatures know the provision of their God, the
sinner does not recognize the provisions of his Savior. He quibbles
and questions, "May I?" and "I am afraid it is not for me," and "I
think it cannot be meant for me; and I am afraid it is too good to
be true." And yet nobody ever said to the stork, "Whosoever buildeth
on this fir tree shall never have his nest pulled down." No inspired
word has ever said to the cony, "Whosoever runs into this rock-cleft
shall never be driven out of it;" if it had been so, it would make
assurance doubly sure. And yet here is Christ provided for sinners,
just the sort of a Savior sinners need, and the encouragement is
added, "Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out;"
"Whosoever will let him come, and take the water of life freely." O
dear brothers and sisters, do not be standing out against the
generosity of a sin-pardoning God, who bids the sinner come and
welcome. Come, believe in Jesus, and find salvation now. O that you
would come, it is what God has provided for your wants. Come, take
it, for he bids you come. "The Spirit and the bride say come, and
whosoever will let him come and take the water of life freely." To
believe is to trust Jesus, to trust his suffering, to trust his
atonement, and rely upon him alone for salvation. May God enable you
to do it for Christ's sake. Amen.
If you are not a Christian, and you have been holding out on making a decision for Christ because the Church always preached a message that was contrary to what you saw in the scientific world, then rest assured that the Bible is the inerrant Word of God, and you can believe in Christ and receive salvation, while still believing in an old earth. Click here for more.
Are you a Christian who believes in young earth creationism? Now that we have shown the many difficulties of the young earth creation science model in this and many other articles, how does this impact your Christian life? If you are a young earth creationism believer, click here.
Spurgeon and the Age of the Earth
Notable Christians Open to an Old Earth
Old Earth Creationist Testimonies
Did you know that you can be a Christian,
and believe that the earth is billions of years old? You can even
believe in evolution and be a Christian. There is no conflict
between science and the Bible...all one needs is a proper
understanding how to merge science and the Bible. To learn more
about old earth creationism, see
Old Earth Belief,
or check out the article
Can You Be A
Christian and Believe in an Old Earth?
Feel free to check out more of this website. Our goal is to
provide rebuttals to the bad science behind young earth creationism,
and honor God by properly presenting His creation.