when he left. I met another man who considered himself perfect, but he was thoroughly mad; and I do not believe that any of your pretenders to perfection are better than good maniacs, superior bedlamites; { insane: Ed.} that is all I believe they are. For while a man has any spark of reason left in him, he cannot, unless he is the most impudent of impostors, talk about his being perfect. What would I not give to be perfect myself! And you can say also, what would you not give to be perfect. If I must be burnt in fire, or dragged through the sea by the hair of my head; if I must be buried in the bowels of the earth, or hung up to the stars for ever — if I might only be perfect, I would rejoice in any price I might have to pay for perfection. But I feel perfectly persuaded, that perfection is absolutely impossible for any man beneath the sky; and yet, I feel sure, that to every believer future perfection is an absolute certainty. The day shall come, beloved, when the Lord shall not only make us better, but shall make us perfectly good; when he shall not merely subdue our lusts, but when he shall cast the demons out; when he shall make us not only tolerable, and bearable, and endurable, but make us holy and acceptable in his sight. That day however, I believe, shall not come until we enter into the joy of our Lord, and are glorified together with Christ in heaven.
13. Say, Christian, is not this a large confidence? “The Lord will make me perfect.” He will most assuredly, beyond a doubt, bring to perfection my faith, my love, my hope, and every grace. He will perfect his purposes; he will perfect his promises; he will perfect my body, and perfect my soul. “He will perfect what concerns me.”
14. And now there is the word “what” — “The Lord will perfect what concerns me.” Very indefinite, it seems; but how broad it is. What a broad faith the Psalmist had! “Whatever concerns me,” he says, “the Lord will perfect.” Once pardon of sin concerned me; that he has perfected. Then imputed righteousness concerned me; that he perfected. Now, sanctification troubles me; that he will perfect. One day, deliverance was my fear; now it is support. But whatever is laid upon my heart to be concerned about, this comprehensive term, “that” embraces it all, whatever it is, if I have a spiritual concern upon my soul about any heavenly thing, that will God perfect.
15. Go a step further. Here is a trial of faith. “The Lord will perfect what concerns me.” Alas, beloved, we cannot say we have any good thing without having concern for it. I suppose God never gave us a blessing, but we doubted whether we should have it before we obtained it. Somehow or other, our doubts always go before God’s mercies; whereas we ought to believe, and not to feel any anxiety and distrustful concern. My faith is sometimes tried and concerned about heavenly things now. But though that faith is tried by an inward concern about the things of God, yet it surmounts even its own doubts, and cries, “The Lord will perfect even this.” Have you learned this lesson correctly — being troubled about a thing and yet believing about it? A Christian man will find his experience to be very much like the sea. Upon the surface there is a storm, and the mountainous waves are rolling; but down in the depths there are caverns where tranquillity has reigned supreme ever since the foundations of the earth were laid; where peace, undisturbed, has had a solitary triumph. Beloved, it is so with the Christian’s heart. Outwardly, he is concerned about these things. He doubts, he fears, he trembles; but in his innermost heart, down in the depths of his soul, he is without a fear, and he can say confidently, “The Lord will perfect what concerns me.”
16. But I hasten to dwell upon the last word. The faith of our text is a personal faith. “The Lord will perfect what concerns me.” Here is the loudest note of all; this is the handle by which we must lay hold of this sword if we wish to use it properly — “what concerns me.” Oh, it is a sweet truth to know and believe that God will perfect all his saints; it is sweeter still to know that “he will perfect me.” It is blessed to believe that all God’s people shall persevere; but the essence of delight is to feel that I shall persevere through him. Many people are contented with a kind of general religion, a universal salvation. They belong to a Christian community; they have joined a Christian church, and they think they shall be saved in the lump — in the mass; but give me a personal religion. What is all the bread in the world, unless I myself feed upon it? I am starved, though Egypt is full of grain. What are all the rivers that run from the mountains to the sea, if I am thirsty? Unless I drink myself, what are all these? If I am poor and in rags, you only mock me if you tell me that Potosi’s mines {a} are full of treasure? You only laugh at me if you speak of Golconda’s {b} diamonds. What do I care for these, unless I own one for myself? But if I can say even of my crust, “It is my own,” then I can eat it with a grateful heart. That crust which is my own is more precious than all the granaries of Egypt if they are not my own, and this promise even if it were smaller would be more precious than the largest promise that stands in the Bible, if I could not see my right to it personally myself. But now, by humble faith, sprinkled with the blood of Christ, resting in his merits, trusting in his death, I come to the text, and say throughout this year and every year, “The Lord will perfect what concerns me” — unworthy me, lost and ruined me. He will yet save me; and
I, among the blood wash’d throng,
Shall wave the palm, and wear the crown,
And shout loud victory.
This, then, is the believer’s confidence. May God grant you the same!
17. II. The second thing is THE GROUND OF THIS CONFIDENCE. The ground of it is this — “Your mercy, oh Lord, endures for ever.” The believer is sure he shall be saved. Why? Because of his merits? No. Because of the strength of his own faith? No. Because he has something which will recommend him to God? No; he believes he shall be perfected because of God’s mercy. Is it not a strange thing that the advanced believer, when he reaches to the very height of piety, just comes to the place where he started? Do we not begin at the cross, and when we have climbed ever so high, is it not at the cross that we end up? I know my pilgrimage shall never end to my heart’s content until at his cross again I cast my wreath and lay my honours down. My sins I laid there, and anything else that he has given me I wish to lay there too. You began there, and your watchword is the cross. While yet the hosts are preparing for the battle, it is the cross. And you have fought the fight and your sword is red with blood, and your head is crowned with triumph. And what is the watchword now? The cross. What is our strength in battle is our boast in victory. Mercy must be the theme of our song here; and mercy enduring for ever must be the subject of the sonnets of paradise. Nothing else can suit sinners; indeed, nothing else can suit grateful saints.
18. Come then, beloved, let us just look at this ground of our confidence, and see whether it will bear our weight. It is said that elephants when they are going to cross a bridge are always very careful to sound it, to see whether it will bear them. If they see a horse going over safely that is not enough, for they say to themselves, “I am an elephant, and I must see whether it will bear me.” Now, we should always do the same with a promise and with the groundwork of a promise. The promise may have been proven by others before you, but if you feel yourselves to be like huge elephantine sinners, you want to be quite certain whether the arches of the promise are quite strong enough to bear the weight of your sins. Now, I say, here is God’s mercy. Ah! this is indeed all sufficient. What was it that first led the Lord to bring you and me into the covenant at all? It was mercy, pure mercy. We were dead in sin. We did not have any merits to recommend us, for some of us used to curse and swear like infidels; some of us were drunkards, sinners of the deepest dye. And why did God save us? Simply because he has said, “I will have mercy upon whom I will have mercy.”
What was there in you that could merit esteem,
Or give the Creator delight?
It was mercy. Well, then, if mercy made God choose me, if he chose me from no other motive than mercy, if that mercy always is the same, he always will choose me, and always will love me. Do you not
