the very summit of arrogance and extremity of pride for a son of Adam to say, even in his heart, as “God I doubt your grace; God I doubt your love; God I doubt your power?” Oh! sirs believe me, if you could roll all sins into one mass, — if you could take murder, and blasphemy, and lust, adultery, and fornication, and everything that is vile, and unite them all into one vast globe of black corruption, they would not equal even then the sin of unbelief. This is the monarch sin, the quintessence of guilt, the mixture of the venom of all crimes; the dregs of the wine of Gomorrha; it is the A 1 sin, the masterpiece of Satan, the chief work of the devil.
6. I shall attempt this morning, for a little while, to show the extremely evil nature of the sin of unbelief.
7. 1. And first the sin of unbelief will appear to be extremely heinous when we remember that it is the parent of every other iniquity. There is no crime which unbelief will not produce. I think that the fall of man is very much owing to it. It was in this point that the devil tempted Eve. He said to her, “Yes, has God said, you shall not eat of every tree of the garden?” He whispered and insinuated a doubt, “Yes, has God said so?” as much as to say, “Are you quite sure he said so?” It was by means of unbelief — that thin part of the wedge — that the other sin entered; curiosity and the rest followed; she touched the fruit, and destruction came into this world. Since that time, unbelief has been the prolific parent of all guilt. An unbeliever is capable of the vilest crime that ever was committed. Unbelief, sirs! why it hardened the heart of Pharaoh — it gave licence to the tongue of blaspheming Rabshakeh — yes, it became a deicide, and murdered Jesus. Unbelief! — it has sharpened the knife of the suicide! it has mixed many a cup of poison; thousands it has brought to the gallows; and many to a shameful grave, who have murdered themselves and rushed with bloody hands before their Creator’s tribunal, because of unbelief! Give me an unbeliever — let me know that he doubts God’s word — let me know that he distrusts his promise and his threatening; and with that for a premise, I will conclude that the man shall, by and by unless there is amazing restraining power exerted upon him, be guilty of the foulest and blackest crimes. Ah! this is a Beelzebub sin; like Beelzebub, it is the leader of all evil spirits. It is said of Jeroboam that he sinned and made Israel to sin; and it may be said of unbelief that it not only sins itself; but makes others sin; it is the egg of all crime, the seed of every offence; in fact everything that is evil and vile lies couched in that one word — unbelief.
8. And let me say here, that unbelief in the Christian is of the very same nature as unbelief in the sinner. It is not the same in its final issue, for it will be pardoned in the Christian; yes it is pardoned: it was laid upon the scape goat’s head of old: it was blotted out and atoned for; but it is of the same sinful nature. In fact, if there can be one sin more heinous than the unbelief of a sinner, it is the unbelief of a saint. For a saint to doubt God’s word — for a saint to distrust God after innumerable instances of his love, after ten thousand proofs of his mercy, exceeds everything. In a saint, moreover, unbelief is the root of other sins. When I am perfect in faith I shall be perfect in everything else; I should always fulfil the precept if I always believe the promise. But it is because my faith is weak, that I sin. Put me in trouble, and if I can fold my arms and say, “Jehovahjireh, the Lord will provide,” you will not find me using wrong means to escape from it. But let me be in temporal distress and difficulty, if I distrust God, what then? Perhaps I shall steal, or do a dishonest act to get out of the hands of my creditors; or if kept from such a transgression, I may plunge into excess to drown my anxieties. Once take away faith, the reins are broken; and who can ride an unbroken steed without rein or bridle? Like the chariot of the sun, with Phaeton for its driver, such should we be without faith. Unbelief is the mother of vice; it is the parent of sin; and, therefore, I say it is a pestilent evil — a master sin.
9. 2. But secondly; unbelief not only produces, but fosters sin. How is it that men can keep their sin under the thunders of the Sinai preacher? How is it that, when Boanerges stands in the pulpit, and, by the grace of God, cries aloud, “Cursed is every man that does not keep all the commands of the law,” — how is it that when the sinner hears the tremendous threatenings of God’s justice, still he is hardened, and walks on in his evil ways? I will tell you; it is because unbelief of that threatening prevents it from having any effect upon him. When our sappers and miners go to work around Sebastopol, they could not work in front of the walls, if they did not have something to protect them from the shots; so they raise earthworks, behind which they can do what they please. So with the ungodly man. The devil gives him unbelief; he thus puts up an earthwork, and finds refuge behind it. Ah! sinners, when once the Holy Spirit knocks down your unbelief — when once he brings home the truth in demonstration and in power, how the law will work upon your soul. If man only believed that the law is holy, that the commandments are holy, just, and good, how he would be shaken over hell’s mouth; there would be no sitting and sleeping in God’s house; no careless hearers; no going away and immediately forgetting what manner of men you are. Oh! once get rid of unbelief, how would every cannon ball from the batteries of the law fall upon the sinner, and the slain of the Lord would be many. Again, how is it that men can hear the wooings of the cross of Calvary, and yet not come to Christ? How is it that when we preach about the sufferings of Jesus, and close up by saying, “yet there is room,” — how is it that when we dwell upon his cross and passion, men’s hearts are not broken? It is said,
Law and terrors do but harden,
All the while they work alone:
But a sense of blood bought pardon
Will dissolve a heart of stone.
I think the story of Calvary is enough to break a rock. Rocks split when they saw Jesus die. I think the tragedy of Golgotha is enough to make a flint gush with tears, and to make the most hardened wretch weep his eyes out in drops of penitential love; but yet we tell it to you, and repeat it often, but who weeps over it? Who cares about it? Sirs, you sit as unconcerned as if it did not apply to you. Oh! behold and see all you that pass by. Is it nothing to you that Jesus would die? You seem to say “It is nothing.” What is the reason? Because there is unbelief between you and the cross. If there were not that thick veil between you and the Saviour’s eyes, his looks of love would melt you. But unbelief is the sin which keeps the power of the gospel from working in the sinner: and it is not until the Holy Spirit strikes that unbelief out — it is not until the Holy Spirit rends away that infidelity and smashes it completely down, that we can find the sinner coming to put his trust in Jesus.
10. 3. But there is a third point. Unbelief disables a man for the performance of any good work; “Whatever is not of faith is sin,” is a great truth in more senses than one. “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” You shall never hear me say a word against morality; you shall never hear me say that honesty is not a good thing, or that sobriety is not a good thing; on the contrary, I would say they are commendable things; but I will tell you what I will say afterwards — I will tell you that they are just like the shells of Cowries of Hindustan; they may pass as currency among the Indians, but they will not do in England; these virtues may be current here below, but not above. If you have not something better than your own goodness, you will never get to heaven. Some of the Indian tribes use little strips of cloth instead of money, and I would not find fault with them if I lived there; but when I come to England, strips of cloth will not suffice. So honesty, sobriety, and such things, may be very good among men — and the more you have of them the better. I exhort you, whatever things are lovely and pure, and of good report, have them — but they will not do up there. All these things put together, without faith, do not please God. Virtues without faith are whitewashed sins. Obedience without faith, if it is possible, is a gilded disobedience. Not to believe, nullifies everything. It is the fly in the ointment; it is the poison in the pot. Without faith, with all the virtues of purity, with all the benevolence of philanthropy, with all the kindness of disinterested sympathy, with all the talents of genius, with all the bravery of patriotism, and with all the decision of principle — “without faith it is impossible to please God.”
