from their peculiar phraseology, more adapted to catch the eye of the reader, and more suitable to a prevailing spiritual condition. All the stars in the heavens shine very brightly, but only a few attract the eye of the mariner, and direct his course; the reason is this, that those few stars from their peculiar grouping are more readily distinguished, and the eye easily fixes upon them. So I suppose it is with those passages of God’s Word which especially attract attention, and direct the sinner to the cross of Christ. It so happens that this text is one of the chief of them. I have found it, in my experience, to be a most useful one; for out of the hundreds of people who have come to me to tell me about their conversion and experience, I have found a very large proportion who have traced the divine change which has been wrought in their hearts to the hearing of this precious declaration of sovereign mercy read, and the application of it with power to their souls: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and will not remember your sins.” Hence I feel this morning somewhat pleased to have such a text, because I anticipate that my Master will give me souls; and I feel likewise somewhat afraid lest I should spoil the passage by my own imperfect handling of it. I will, therefore, cast myself implicitly on the help of the Spirit, so that whatever I speak, may be suggested by him, and whatever he says that may I speak, to the exclusion of my own thoughts as much as possible.
2. We shall notice first, this morning, the recipients of mercy — the people of whom the Lord is here speaking; secondly, the deed of mercy, — “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions”; thirdly, the reasons for mercy — “for my own sake”; and fourthly, the promise of mercy — “I will not remember your sins.”
3. I. We are about to see who are THE RECIPIENTS OF MERCY; and I would have you all listen; perhaps there are some who have strayed in here who are the very chief of sinners — some who have sinned against light and knowledge, who have gone the full length of their powers for sin, so that they come here self-condemned, and fearing that for them there is neither mercy nor pardon. I am about to speak to you about the lovingkindness of our glorious Jehovah, and may some of you be led to read your own condition in those characters which I shall describe to you.
4. If you will turn to your Bibles, you will find who the people are here spoken about. Look for example at the 22nd verse of the chapter from which our text is taken, and you will see, first, that they were prayerless people: “You have not called upon me, oh Jacob.” {Isaiah 43:22} And are there not some prayerless ones sitting or standing here this morning? Might I not walk along these benches, and point my finger to one and another, and say, “You are not a praying one?” Or might I not reach out my hand to one and another upon this platform, and say, “You have not been with God in secret, and held close communion with him?” These prayerless ones may have repeated many a form of prayer, but the breathing desire, the living words, have not come from their lips. You have lived, sinner, up to this time without sincere prayer, and if an ejaculation has been forced from your lips from a fear that took hold of you; if a cry has gone forth from you when in the sufferings on a sick bed, because the pains of death had gotten hold on you; if it has not been your habit to pray, the impressions of that trying period have been soon forgotten. Is prayer your constant practice, my hearers? How many of you now before me, indeed, and behind me too, must confess that you have not prayed, that it is not your habit to hold communion with God. Prayerless souls are Christless souls; for you can have no real fellowship with Christ, no communion with the Father, unless you approach his mercy seat, and be often there; and yet if you are condemning yourselves, and lamenting that this has been your condition, you need not despair, for this mercy is for you: “You have not called upon me, oh Jacob”; yet, “I, even I, am he that blots out your transgressions for my own sake.”
5. Next, these people were despisers of religion, for observe the language of the same verse: — “You have been weary of me, oh Israel.” {Isaiah 43:22} And may I not say to some here — you despise religion, you hate God; you are weary of him, and do not love his services. As for the Sunday, do not too many of you find it the most tiresome day in the week, and do you not, in fact, look over your ledger on the Sunday afternoon? If you were compelled to attend a place of worship twice on the Sunday, would you not think it the greatest and most terrible hardship that could be inflicted upon you? You have to find some worldly amusement to make the hours of the Sunday pass away with any comfort at all. So far from wishing that “congregations might never break up” and the Sunday last for eternity, is it not to some of you the most tedious day of the week? You feel it to be a weariness, and are glad when it is over. You do not understand the sentiment expressed by the poet:
Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
To praise your name, give thanks and sing.
You know nothing of the pain of banishment from the courts of Zion, where the sacred tribes repair; and when there you do not hold communion with God, rejoicing that the hallowed place has become a Bethel — the house of God — the very gate of heaven. You can never say —
My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.
Ah, no! not only is religion unlovely to you, but it is a weariness. But if you are now convicted of this sin, and are repenting of it, and desire to be delivered from its power, then God speaks to you this morning, and says, “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake — return to me, with sincere repentance, and I will have mercy upon you.”
6. Note, again, the character. They have been thankless people: “You have not brought me the small cattle of your burnt offerings.” They have been unthankful. They had their cattle and their flocks all multiplied and increased many times, but they did not bring even one of the small cattle to him in return. You never gave him a kid for a burnt offering, but have been like the swine, regardless of the oak which strews food upon the ground for you; you have been a carnal worldly character, receiving a gift, but never thanking the Almighty who caused it to be bestowed; while the little chicken, after it has drunk of the stream, lifts its head, as if to thank God who provided the water. You have been fed, day by day, by an Almighty power, and yet you have never given in return even one of the small cattle of your flock for a burnt offering. This is true of some who attend our houses of prayer; they very rarely give to any collection for the cause of God; they are like the man in America, of whom some one has told us, who boasted that religion had been to him a very cheap thing, costing him only a few cents a year, of whom a good man said, “The Lord have mercy on your little stingy soul.” If a man has no more religion than that, if he has not a religion that will make him generous, he has no religion at all. I thought of that passage last Thursday night, while I was preaching: “You have bought me no sweet cane with money.” God needs nothing at your hands, but he likes little presents, he loves now and then to receive of your substance; for you know that little as it is in his eyes, comparatively speaking it is great, because it comes from a friend. But some of you have never bought him a sweet cane with your money — never sang a hymn to his praise; you have attributed everything to your good luck, and have boasted that you have obtained everything you have gotten by the labour of your own hands, and that you can say, I have need to thank no one for what I have. That has been your spirit; you have given no thanks to God, — the God of heaven and earth; you have not glorified him, but yourself, and yet the Most High is willing to pardon your sin in this thing, if you are only sincerely penitent, and do sue for forgiveness, for he says also to you, “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions.”
7. Yet, again, these people were a useless people. “Neither have you filled me with the fat of your sacrifices; but you have made me to serve with your sins.” It is well said, the chief end of man is to glorify God. For that purpose God made the sun, moon, and stars, and all his works, that they might honour him. And yet how many
