Matthew xi. 9, 10: “But what went ye out for to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet. For this is he of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee.”

I propose to you for your own reading and meditation and self-examination during the season of Lent the life and history of John the Baptist. Seek out all the special passages which allude to him, and pass them not lightly over, and see and mark the great reformer, still more the great forerunner. That which may be done at any time is too often not done at all; thus our Church has wisely set before us certain seasons for meditation on certain subjects.

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Some do not approve of services in unconsecrated buildings. I confess it seems to me that such are not very assiduous in their attendance in consecrated buildings! No, we want a heart for these services; we want the Holy Spirit to make us know that we are dying creatures—that we must all stand before the Judgment-seat of Christ. “It is high time to awake out of sleep” (Rom. xiii. 11).

Glance at the leading features of John’s life:—

1. Self-discipline.

2. The Witness.

3. The closing scene of his life.

1. If you notice particularly Matt, iii., Luke i., John iii. (towards the end of the chapter), Luke iii., Mark vi., you will have before you the comprehensive features of John the Baptist’s life. Let me direct you to his credentials. This is the man who was prophesied of seven centuries before the coming of the Lord, not in Isaiah xl. only, but in Malachi iv. 5. He went into the wilderness, the less inhabited country. He probably had tried Jerusalem; it is not unlikely that he had consorted with the learned Jews. He found little encouragement, it may be. Then he cast himself on the Lord—He never disappoints. We shall ever and anon (God grant always) cast ourselves on Him—there is no disappointment there. The world disappoints, friends disappoint, there is very much disappointment in our own hearts. God never disappoints.

Men would consider it a great waste of time, those three years in the desert—so much for him to do, so much misery and wickedness and sin. There he was in the desert, assuredly not doing nothing for men, but in the wilderness, holding little intercourse with men. Rely upon it, the greatest things done for God are done in secret. Religion does not come forth full-blown. God sows the seed; the roots strike downward, unseen. Self-examination, self-discipline, communion with God,—these fit men for great enterprises, for conflict in daily life, and for the trustful and rejoicing walk with God. Self-examination—very mild and charitable towards others, very strict and exacting towards ourselves. Converse with God: there is no one you can tell everything to, but God. Away with the idea of confession to our fellow-man—casting our burden upon the priest, as though he could take it to God for us. That is not the way of the saints of God. No, we want much converse with God, much searching of His Word, and what that Word saith to us individually, whenever we hear His voice speaking to us, do it. George MÜller, at the age of twenty, made this Book “the man of his counsels.” MÜller’s life is one of the most wonderful miracles of Providence that ever was performed; that man, without ever asking for one farthing from anyone, committed his way to the Lord, walked with God, and in fifty years a million of money has passed through his hands; I forget how many orphans he has clothed and fed. It is just as much a miracle as when the ravens fed Elijah, brought him bread and flesh every morning and evening.Now, the season of Lent reminds us of self-examination, of self-judgment; and surely if self-judgment, it will be self-condemnation. It bids us take everything to God: thus shall we be blessed in the Lord, and in the power of the Holy Ghost we shall have His peace pervading our hearts. Now let us proceed to—

2. The Witness.

It was in “the fulness of time” that our Lord came. They had often been asking, Where are the signs of His coming? It is of no use for man’s clock to strike before God’s. If I may say so with reverence, God’s clock struck, and then John the Baptist came—six months before the Lord. Long predicted and anticipated, at length he came. He was of good parentage. There is a great deal in being of good parentage. “The seed of the blessed of the Lord” (Isa. lxv. 23). The real thing—that is what we want; not gilding or veneer, but the good heart of oak. “They were both righteous before God,” etc. (Luke i. 6). That is the good parentage. Children are apt to follow parents really walking “in the ways of the Lord.”

His witness was uncompromising. It was no time for mincing words. “The axe is laid unto the root of the tree,” etc. (Matt. iii. 10). He went straight to the mark.

His witness was general. Observe this, when you hear men say, “The Gospel is not to be preached to all; it is only for the elect.” God has His elect; God forbid that we should deny it. But how shall we know them?

It was a good answer of John Newton’s (too familiar it may have been) when one was finding fault with him for preaching the Gospel to all men, he said, “You chalk the elect, and then I will preach to them apart.” Though the words are too familiar, they strike the right note. John preached the Gospel to all, “Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Mark you, the same word his blessed Master preached (Matt. iv. 17). “Repent ye,”—change your mind; go straight to Christ, to God. Cease to do evil by the power of the Holy Ghost.

Though the Gospel has been preached from this place forty to fifty years, there are those who sit there, year after year, just as they were. How will they be found in the Day of the Lord?

As his witness was wholly uncompromising and general, so was it practical. He went direct to the mark. The soldiers, the publicans, the people, all came to him; even the Pharisees stripped off, or rather covered over, their phylacteries. The Spirit of the Living God to convince of sin and quicken the conscience of each sinner—that is what we want. Unless we speak in the Holy Ghost and in power, we might as well, and far better, never speak at all.

The soldiers were coming into very great power at that time; he told them, “Do no violence,” etc., “and be content with your wages.” Then the tax-gatherers (who were utterly different from ours) had great opportunities of over-reaching; and some did not fail to take advantage of the power. Sad advantage for them. He told them, “Exact no more than that which is appointed you.” “He that hath two garments, let him impart to him that hath none.” If you can do good to any one, do it; if you have small means, use them; if you have great, use them. John used very plain language, “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Yes, beloved, John could hardly have moved in polite society, for he ventured to speak of hell, of “the unquenchable fire,” of “the wrath to come.” He told them to flee, not to creep, not to walk, “from the wrath to come.” He urged—his Master rather urged—“Repent ye,” etc. He spoke to the conscience. Oh, that the Lord in my few remaining days, if any more days are given me, oh, that He would make my words more plain. I have striven to be plain, brethren.

John was the uncompromising, the faithful, the affectionate witness. We want a practical religion. If not practical, we had better throw it behind our backs; it will not profit us in the last day. What is the use of our religion if it is not to influence our life, if it is not to make you, dear children, better children, more obedient children, keeping your tongues from evil words, making you kind and gentle, your father’s joy and your mother’s darling, because they can trust you? As a dear little grandchild of mine said, “I don’t know what papa would do without me; I’m his right hand, he says,” and she added, “Oh, I don’t know what I should do without him!” Yes, we want practical religion. If we are not honest-hearted, faithful to our trust, if we do not to others as we would they should do to us, when we get to the gate of heaven and begin then to look for our religion, to hunt for our certificate, it will not be found. The man without the wedding garment was speechless.

I remember an account of a ship that struck on rocks; they rose sheer and precipitous—not a chance of escape. All at once a ladder was let down from the top of the rock, and the poor sailors, who had given up hope, escaped all safe to land.

You are on the edge of the sea of eternity. The tide is coming in, the waves rolling up one after another; but there is a Rock. You must reach it, you must cling to it. How are you going to do it? You are not flies, children, that you can walk up a perpendicular wall. We have got something far more difficult to do—to live to God, to glorify God in our daily walk and conversation. In other words, you want “a ladder set up” (Gen. xxviii. 12).

What is that Ladder? John the Baptist preached holiness, practice. He was a practical man, because he did not teach men to make bricks without straw—he pointed them to Christ. Standing by the river Jordan, and seeing Jesus coming, he directed all the people to Him with the words, “Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.” That was his ladder. There is no godliness without Christ: “Without Me ye can do nothing.” The man who seeks safety on any other raft—lifeboat he may call it—is venturing on the ocean of Eternity in an unseaworthy craft. We must rest simply and wholly on Him, the Lamb of God, the Alpha and Omega—trust and know and love, as well as serve, the Lord Jesus. Now, time fails me, brethren, and I want very much to speak to you about the closing scene. I must do so as briefly as I can.

3. The closing scene of his life.

A great deal is made of the closing scene of a man’s life. Take, for instance, one who has lived to himself all through life; he is on his death-bed, we strain our ears to hear if we can, any word to give a glimmer of hope. He may have lived as he listed, and then at the close of life, when he is at the last gasp, and Death has him in his grip, friends lean over the pillow and question, “Are you trusting in Christ?” and if the whispered answer should be “Yes,” they are satisfied! Poor dying man! what else is left for him to do? Is such an act, at such a moment, real faith? If a house is on fire, and a man leaps from the second storey window, you do not say he is a good leaper. What else could he do? I do not mean to say that there may not be such a thing as a death-bed repentance, but a death-bed repentance can scarcely be called satisfactory. Tell me what a man’s life has been—has it been spent in Christ’s service and to the glory of God?—and I care not that whether he has any last words on his death-bed or not.

Look at John the Baptist’s end. You do not find the account of many deathbeds in Scripture—the fact is, the great thing is how a man lives. Is Christ his life? Is holiness the result? Then will he lift up his head in joy whether in life or death.

Look at that last scene in the life of John the Baptist. He had had a great and strong struggle. Read his life, my children. You like story-books; you will find this Book far more entertaining than you think for, as, for example, the story of the three children in the fire, Daniel in the lion’s den, and the story of the earthquake and shipwreck as told in the life of St. Paul. John was in prison, imprisoned by the king—(I pass over his uncompromising witness against sin). It is difficult to speak before the great; it is comparatively an easy thing for me to stand up here and say, My fellow sinner, thou art going to hell! “Come with us and we will do thee good.”

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A cloud had come over John the Baptist’s mind; the faith which had hitherto borne him up, is now sharply exercised. He sent his disciples to Jesus. I do not think that he had the disciples’ good only in view. Our blessed Lord “in that same hour cured many,” etc. (Luke vii. 21, 22), and answered them, “Go your way,” etc. (ver. 22); and He added this (Oh, I thank God for that addition), “And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in me.” Have you ever had prayers so answered—I hope you have had many—that you almost, as they say, leapt out of your skin, you have been so astounded? You will have many more if you “come boldly to the Throne of Grace.” I believe then, when the Lord sent this message to His faithful servant, He answered the very want and questioning of his heart, and that word satisfied the yearning of his heart. John the Baptist must have said, “Why, He knows my very thoughts, my very doubts, my failings, my fears!” May I not thus interpret? I do not add to the Word of God.

All clouds disappeared; the Sun of Righteousness shines out with healing in His wings. By-and-by there is the glimmer of a light, the sound of the key in the lock. “Ah! my lord” (so the jailor would probably have called the prophet), “I bring you heavy tidings—the king has sent his executioner.” “Heavy tidings? Nay, joyous tidings! blessed tidings! glorious tidings! Lord Jesus, I thank Thee! Where is he? Do not keep me one moment from heaven and glory!” Down he laid his head on the block joyfully, and another saint was in glory! Oh, my brethren, think what that will be—“For ever with the Lord”!

C. F. HODGSON AND SON, PRINTERS, GOUGH SQUARE, E.C.