1 Sam. 17:38-18:4; 19:1-7; 20:41-42
David is one of the most interesting characters in all the Old Testament. We can view him in a twofold way—personally and typically. Now I wish you to view him with me only in a typical way tonight. Viewed personally, he is an instructive example of holy courage and confidence in God. But I think it best to look at him only in a typical way throughout these addresses. Viewing him personally, we admire the man; looking at him as a type, we adore the One he typifies, or represents.
I remember speaking once in Canada on David, in this section of the Scriptures, as a type of Christ. At the close an aged Scotch lady said as she grasped my hand, "Aye, wee David were a bonny brave lad when he killet the Philistine." I was disappointed. She had missed the whole drift of my discourse, thinking only of David personally, and ignoring him in his typical character entirely. Too many read the Old Testament only in this way, to their serious loss.
In the closing section of the seventeenth chapter, which I have read, David meets and slays the mighty champion of the Philistines. For forty days, morning and evening, he had been presenting himself, frightening Israel and defying "the armies of the living God." None dared accept his challenge; all feared to meet him. Then David appears in the nick of time and saves Jehovah's cause.
Now, as we saw last night, David slaying the Philistine in the valley of Elah is a type of Jesus triumphing over all the powers of sin and death and Satan by the cross.
Let us notice how he conquers. He does not meet the adversary as a warrior but in the simple character of a shepherd, which he really was. He puts Saul's armor off and lays aside his sword. He takes his "staff" and his "five smooth stones" in "a shepherd's bag." Then with a stone from his sling, he smites the Philistine with death. And as a shepherd Jesus met our mighty foe at Calvary. "I am the good Shepherd," he says, "The good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep" (John 10:11). As feeble sheep we had no power against our wolfish adversary. Our blessed Savior meets him and by death defeats him. And the sheep go free. Thank God for everyone in this room tonight who can say, "The Lord is my Shepherd." Oh, that you, my unsaved friend, might say it before you leave your seat. Jesus would receive you as a frightened sheep. He would rejoice and say, "I have found My sheep which was lost.”
David takes five smooth stones from the brook and with one of these he slays Goliath. There have been many speculations as to the meaning of these "five smooth stones." I will give you what I learn from them. Notice where he gets them—in the brook. Now water in Scripture often symbolizes death. For instance, the Red Sea is a type of Christ's death. Jordan also symbolizes death. The waters of baptism strikingly signify death. Believers are baptized unto Christ's death. They are viewed as dead with Christ and confess it by baptism. "We are buried with Him by baptism unto death" (Rom. 6:4). The water there is death. The Lord Jesus went down into death as David went down into the brook. And there He received five wounds as David got five stones. His hands, His feet, and side were pierced. All this, of course, is only a suggestion. I do not ask you if you understand it so. I have a more important question. Can you say, "He was wounded for my transgressions"?
When all is ready, David, with his simple weapon, advances towards the Philistine. But Goliath of Gath disdains him. "And when the Philistine looked about, and saw David, he disdained him: for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair countenance. And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves? And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. And the Philistine said to David, “Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field" (vss. 42-44). But he never boasts again. A well-directed stone from David's sling sinks into his forehead, and his huge form lies stretched in death upon the ground.
And notice, David did not hesitate. Verse 48 says, "And it came to pass, when the Philistine arose, and came and drew nigh to meet David, that David hasted, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine." He "hasted" and "ran." This is like the blessed Lord. "He set His face like a flint to go toward Jerusalem." He knew the awful conflict He would pass through there. But nothing could turn Him back. God's glory and the safety of the sheep necessitate His death and He will go.
“Oh, sing of the Shepherd that died,
That died for the sake of the flock;
His love to the utmost was tried,
But firmly endured as a rock.
When blood from a victim must flow,
This Shepherd by pity was led
To stand between us and the foe,
And willingly died in our stead.”
Now, let us look at Jonathan as one who reaps real benefit from David's victory. He aptly represents the Christian who has reaped eternal benefit from Christ's victory over death.
Jonathan must have passed through at least three different states of mind on this occasion. He was at first terrified, then satisfied, and lastly, captivated. Let us take them one by one, because they illustrate three different states of soul in Christians.
He was terrified. We are sure of this. It says, "And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him, and were sore afraid" (vs. 24). "All the men of Israel" included Jonathan. He was terrified like all the rest. Now death has frightened everyone who has been born again. The best of men, without the knowledge of redemption, fear death. Conscience of sins makes men afraid to die. Few care to think of death. Some years ago a Chicago undertaker placed a coffin on the sidewalk in front of his shop. He meant it as an advertisement and it was, but not as he expected or desired. Those who were compelled to pass his place were angry and requested him to take the coffin inside and out of sight. This he refused to do. Then the residents of the street petitioned the mayor, who compelled the unthinking undertaker to remove the casket. That tells a story. The coffin made the people think of death. The covetous merchant, hurrying to his place of business and hoping to become a millionaire, perhaps, and reaching a ripe old age, was shocked to see that grim reminder of "the wages of sin." The carefree young men and women, passing down the street towards the theater or the ballroom did not like to see it. Drunkards and libertines, with any conscience left, were troubled at the sight. And so the unconscious preacher must be silenced by being hastened out of sight. I remember once, when a mere lad, I spent a large part of one day in a cemetery, and that night I slept but little. My conscience was aroused. Awake, or in my troubled dreams, I thought I saw those ghost-like tombstones. I thought of the time when I must die, and I knew at the time I was not fit to dwell with God.
Sinner, death is on your track! Die you must! And after death comes judgment! Death is man's great enemy. Death is after you, my unconverted friend. May you get terrified before it is too late! If you die in your sins, the moment your soul leaves the body, it will descend, like a flash of light to hell. Be awakened now! Don't be like the silly ostrich, that when pursued, they say, sticks its head in the sand and thinks itself safe because it cannot see its enemy. What folly to shut your eyes and go dreaming, in carnal security, on your way to eternal damnation!
Death is a fearful thing. It is the judgment of God upon man because of sin. Death came in by sin: "Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men" (Rom. 5:12). There was no such thing in all the world before Adam sinned. Now we see the stamp of death on everything. Every child born into the world is born under the sentence of death. Men live all their lives beneath its sentence. I know they try to think of death as a sort of accident. Often the innocent physician gets the blame. It is a troublesome intruder, of course, but they must make the best of it. So they summon the florist to their aid. They strew flowers on the coffin and the tomb is decked with roses. And the preacher must not breathe one word about death being the “wages of sin.” And I notice, too, that now, instead of solid black, they mingle violet with the crepe. Ah, if only some wonderful man of science could devise means to do away with death entirely, but they cannot! They boast of progress, but I notice men are dying just as fast as ever, if not a little faster. Wonderful strides have been made in surgery and medicine, but men and women die younger, on an average, than they did one hundred years ago, when they were not so smart. Oh, that men would submit to the truth and prepare for what awaits them, instead of painting death in colors, false and cheerful!
At the breaking out of the late Cuban war, a great many Spanish soldiers were attacked with yellow fever. Scores were dying on every hand, and, being Roman Catholics who believe that the priest is a mediator between God and them, they sent for the priests. In one regiment was a great, strapping infidel. At first he enjoyed perfect health and made fun of his comrades' fear of death. But finally he himself was seized with the dread disease and in a very short time was on his deathbed. Then all his bravado was gone. Just before his soul departed from his body, he raised himself in his bed with his little remaining strength and shrieked in the agony of despair: "O my God, I cannot die! I cannot die!" So he died, like multitudes of others who in health appear to scorn all fear of death. Your time is coming, sinner! Oh, prepare! prepare!
After being terrified, Jonathan was satisfied. Everything seems dark till David comes upon the scene. How his eyes follow every movement of the shepherd-boy of Bethlehem as he sees him prepare for the conflict. His weapon seems inadequate—a simple sling. David himself seems like a mere sapling beside some mighty oak, in the presence of Goliath. But the giant falls, and using Goliath’s own massive sword, David severs his head from his body. Then he holds it up triumphantly to view, and Jonathan's terror is gone forever—he is satisfied. The giant is dead, and his headless body lies mingled with the clods of the valley. Jonathan is sure and satisfied.
And the believer by faith looks back to the cross, and sees the Savior robbing death of all its terrors. "His death by dying slew." The death of Jesus satisfies the troubled conscience. There is no other remedy. Men have manufactured opiates. These are mostly various forms of religious observances and morals. They may deceive, but they cannot effectually relieve. God's perfect answer to the demands of a troubled conscience is the cross. All who by simple faith rest in what Christ accomplished there have what the Apostle calls "no more conscience of sins" (Heb. 10:2). And they are not afraid of death. I do not mean a physical fear of death. Many who enjoy peace with God about their sins have a kind of dread of the hour of dissolution, when the soul departs the body. But this is purely physical. An unbeliever may be entirely free from all such fear, yet tremble at the thought of meeting God. I read some time ago of a child in New York city that was bitten by its father's valuable dog. He spared the dog, but put a muzzle on him. He could still bark, but he could not bite. But the child was still afraid of him. "You need not fear him," said the nurse one day. "He is muzzled, so he cannot bite you." "Yes," replied the child, "but the bark is in him yet." And the bark of the muzzled dog is like the physical fear of death among believers. It may annoy, but it cannot harm. But I speak of freedom from all moral fear of death. If you fear death as that which will usher you into the presence of God, there is something wrong. You are either unconverted, or a Christian lacking settled peace. There are many just such Christians. They believe in Christ, but know little of His finished work. They are not satisfied. Jonathan was satisfied when he beheld the finished work of David with the giant. And it is only when you see by faith what Christ has done for you at Calvary that you ever can have settled peace.
There is a passage in the second of Hebrews that ought always to be read in connection with this subject.
It says: "Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the same; that through death He might destroy [annul] him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them, who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage" (vss. 14-15). There you have the work of Christ and Satan's utter overthrow. He "destroyed" the devil, or annulled him, as it is in Greek. His power is gone, as far as Christians are concerned. And now, by this accomplished work, they are entitled to deliverance from all fear of death. It was all accomplished for us at the cross. With joy we sing:
“His be 'the Victor's name,'
Who fought the fight alone;
Triumphant saints no honor claim,
His conquest was their own.”
If you have faith in Christ, you ought to have this satisfaction. "But," you say, "I am such a stumbling professor. I lose my temper easily. I tell lies if I am not careful, and sometimes I forget myself and say harsh words when tempted." I am sorry that all this is so; but I am also glad that you are not satisfied with yourself; you would be deceived if you were. "But," you say again, "my experience has not been very clear. I have never felt very sharp convictions, and when I received Christ, I did not feel much joy." This may all be true. I would not have you satisfied with your experience any more than with yourself. I have never been fully satisfied with myself. I have never been at all satisfied with my experience. It has never seemed to me to be a very clear one. But I will tell you who and what I am satisfied with. I am satisfied with Jesus and His atoning death at Calvary for my sins. God would have you satisfied with His beloved Son, and Christ desires to have you satisfied with Himself and His finished work for sinners such as you.
I have read somewhere of a young man who really believed in Christ, but had no settled peace. One night he dreamed he saw large crowds of people hurrying excitedly towards a hill. He followed from curiosity, and, to his surprise, he saw a cross upon the hill. And on the cross he thought he saw the Savior. "Why," said he, "I thought you did die once upon the cross. Why are you dying again?" And he thought he heard the Savior say reproachfully: "I did die eighteen hundred years ago, but you are not satisfied, so I am dying for you again." He saw his unbelief. He awoke and confessed it; and he never doubted his salvation after that. He saw it hung entirely on the death of Christ.
Jonathan would have been the laughingstock of the camp had he remained in dread of the headless giant. And had he sought to excuse his fears by saying, "I am not satisfied with my appreciation of what David has accomplished," or "I fear, because my view of David, as he slew the Philistine, was rather indistinct," they would have laughed still louder. It was David's work and not Jonathan's appreciation or distinct views that slew the Philistine and saved the army. And it is Christ's work alone that saves.
Christians who pass all their days in doubt and dread of death are like the man who wished to cross the Mississippi river on the ice. Supposing it to be dangerously thin, he crawled across on his hands and knees, with his heart in his throat, as they say. Just as he reached the opposite bank, a man overtook him with a team of horses and a load of iron. The ice was strong enough to bear an army, and his fears were groundless. The man's security depended on the thickness of the ice. And your security, fellow-believer, depends entirely on the work of Christ. Can that break down? Will it give way? Thank God, NEVER! Then doubt no more. Go on your way rejoicing, and live for the One who died for you.
“There was no sword in the hand of David" when he won the victory. A sling and stone are not the weapons of a mighty warrior. David himself appeared weak in the eyes of men: "He was but a youth." And the Apostle Paul says of the Lord Jesus: "He was crucified through weakness" (2 Cor. 13:4). "Christ crucified" was unto the religious Jew "a stumbling-block," and unto the learned Greek "foolishness." Through death, by apparent weakness and defeat Christ conquered Satan.
“By weakness and defeat,
He won the meed and crown;
Trod all our foes beneath His feet
By being trodden down.”
We next see Jonathan captivated. "And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul" (1 Samuel 18:1). David's work satisfies him, and David's worth captivates him. It is a blessed thing to know Christ's work; for it prepares our hearts to learn His worth. By His work our souls are saved; by His worth our hearts are won. Every Christian loves Christ in some measure. Scripture says, "If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema, Maranatha"; that is, accursed (1 Cor. 16:22). We cannot but love Him if we know His dying love to us. A child once helped to deepen that truth in my soul. It was in Chicago. I asked her if she loved Jesus. "Oh, yes," she answered quickly. "Why do you love Him?" I asked. "Oh," she replied, with sweet childish transparency, "because He died for me." But Jonathan's love to David was no common love. He loved him as his own soul. David himself speaks of that love in his touching lament for Jonathan. "Thy love to me was wonderful," he says, "passing the love of women" (2 Sam. 1:26). In Jonathan's eyes, David eclipsed all others. To him there was not another like him in all the earth. And his love to David leads to action. "And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle" (vs. 4). He strips himself of everything. He lays all at David's feet. Everything that might distinguish him as a warrior or as a man among men, he gives to David, as if he alone were worthy of such arms and garments. This action becomes more lovely in our eyes as we remember that Jonathan was a distinguished prince. He had also proved himself a mighty warrior. In the fourteenth chapter of this book he and his armor-bearer display uncommon bravery. As a result, the Philistines are routed, and Saul's armies are victorious. He seems to have been a special favorite with the people, too. In defiance of the headstrong king, they rescued him from death. "And the people said unto Saul, Shall Jonathan die, who hath wrought so great salvation in Israel? God forbid: as the Lord liveth, there shall not one hair of his head fall to the ground; for he hath wrought with God this day. So the people rescued Jonathan, that he died not" (chap. 14:45). But, though so great a man, he seems to say of David, as John the Baptist said of Christ, "He must increase, but I must decrease.”
Paul strips himself in Philippians 3. He, too, was a great man in his place. He advanced beyond many of his contemporaries in the Jews' religion, he tells us (Gal. 1:14). Here in Philippians 3 he tells us in detail something of what he was. He says: "Though I might also have confidence in the flesh. If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more: Circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee. Concerning zeal, persecuting the Church; touching the righteousness which is in the law, blameless" (vss. 4-6). He was a distinguished man in the religious world, just as his ancestor, Jonathan, was a distinguished man in the military and the social world. But ah, observe him strip himself! "But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in Him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God, by faith: that I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death" (vss. 7-10). Oh, it is a blessed sight too seldom seen. Everything must go; the circumcised, the Israelite, the Benjamite, the Pharisee, the zealot, the blameless, everything he reckons dross and dung, that Christ may be his only gain. All for Christ, he seems to say. Christ is his only gain; all other things are loss.
Everything goes when Christ captivates the heart. We begin to leave behind our old things as we learn His worth. Suppose, for instance, I am a man of wealth and position in the world. God saves me, and I learn Christ's love. Now "Christ is all." I no longer glory in my wealth and step down from my exalted place to seek the fellowship of the poor and lowly followers of Jesus. I "rejoice," as James says, to be "made low." Or suppose I am a very religious man, as people say. I am a popular preacher or I occupy a high seat in the so-called church. Everybody speaks well of me. But my eyes are opened, and I see it is not popular religion and religious work, but Christ. I come out and esteem reproach for Him and His praise above the "praise of men." Or I may be a young man who excels in athletic sports, or something of that kind. Christ becomes my Savior and my all. I begin to say—
"My old companions, all, farewell:
I will not go with you to hell.”
Baseball, football, boxing, all are given up. "Everything," I say, "for Christ." Or I may be an accomplished young lady, a graceful dancer, a splendid musician, a charming conversationalist and all that. I become converted and begin to taste "the love of Christ which passeth knowledge." Now I say, “To me to live is Christ.” The world has admired me long enough; I am weary of its smiles. I will begin to admire Christ and seek His smile. So I give up my place in the merry social world and say, "Farewell.”
“Farewell to this world's fleeting joys,
My home is not below;
There was 'no room' for Jesus here,
And 'tis to Him I go.
“The accursed tree was the reward
Which this sad world did give
To Him who gave His precious life
That I through Him might live.
“And has this world a charm for me
Where Jesus suffered thus?
No! I have died to all its charms
Through Jesus' wondrous cross.”
All this is something like Jonathan giving his garments to David. It is the sure result of affection for Christ and occupation with Him. May God give every Christian here to be like Jonathan in this.
Jonathan's love to David was "wonderful, passing the love of women." Strength is the distinguishing characteristic of the man. Affection is that of the woman. In the epistles, husbands are often admonished to love their wives, but the chief admonition to wives is not that, for love is more natural to the woman. She generally exceeds in love. Jonathan's love for David exceeded even that. Oh, for more ardent devotion to our David!
Paul says, "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith." The heart is the seat of the affections. Christ died to win these rebel hearts to Himself.
“Himself He gave, our poor hearts to win;
Was ever love, Lord, like Thine!”
He went down into death to secure a place in the heart of His ruined creature, man. Paul's heart was won. He adoringly exclaims, "The Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me!" These lines were once found written on the fly-leaf of a departed nun's prayer-book: "I am nothing; I can do nothing; Jesus, I adore Thee." Precious confession! May it be written in our hearts, and become the language of our lives.
The earnest missionary, Judson, refers in his journal to the devoted life and final martyrdom of a wealthy Burman who was converted to Christ through some Portuguese Roman Catholic missionaries. Judson gleaned the particulars bit by bit, as they were related to him by the natives. Though he only knew Christ veiled and half-hidden by the drapery of superstitious forms and ceremonies, his heart was captivated. He confessed and preached the Lord Jesus boldly, and his goods were at once confiscated. And, like the apostles of old, he was commanded "not to speak at all or teach in the name of Jesus." But he could not be silenced and was banished from his native place. He continued preaching from place to place and was finally imprisoned. He was there put under an instrument of torture called the "iron maul," and ordered to recant. He refused, and every time the cruel hammer descended on his bruised and bleeding body his lips uttered that glorious name that moves all heaven—"Christ." Soon his spirit left its shattered prison to be forever with that Savior he had confessed and loved so well. May every Christian here tonight be stirred by such devotion. Our light and privileges are great compared with this rich Burman's. Light is good, but it is not heat. John the Baptist was "a burning and a shining light;" not "a bright and shining light," as people often quote it. He did shine, but not like an electric light. There was heat as well as light. I know our warmest love is scarcely worth speaking of, but the feeblest spark of real affection has its value in the eyes of Christ. Our love to Him, compared to His own measureless love to us, may be like the sputtering candle in the presence of the mighty, glorious sun at midday, but the sunlight does not quench the candle flame. Let this question of the Son of God, our Savior, search your heart: "Lovest thou Me?”
Before I speak of the verses read from chapters 19 and 20, I want to say a little on Saul's taking David to himself. It says in verse 2, "And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father's house." David accomplished a wonderful work, and Saul, in his admiration, took him into his house. He did with David just what Christendom has done with Christ. They have taken him under their patronage, so to speak. They have made of Him a kind of religious hero, just as the Turks have done with Mohammed and the Asiatic pagans with Confucius and Bramah. And they propose disgraceful "parliaments of religions" with these Turks and pagans, to compare the various merits of these heroes of their national adoption. And these so-called Christians profess a sort of love and admiration for Jesus, just as Saul professed love and admiration for David. But he had no real love for David. When David's glory eclipsed his own, he hated him and hurled javelins at his head. He was his enemy and sought his life on more than one occasion. And many of those who profess the name of Christ today show their hatred of Him when His real claims are pressed. Under their religious face, the deadliest hatred towards the Son of God is rankling in their hearts. Under their robes of religion are hidden deadly javelins. He is receiving "wounds," as in days of old, in the house of His professed "friends." Some who profess His name deny His eternal deity, others His spotless humanity, and others still deny the authority of His words.
In chapter 19, verse 1, Saul speaks to Jonathan, his son, and to all his servants, that they should kill David. And in the next verse we read that "Jonathan, Saul's son, delighted much in David." How precious! Saul hates him, but Jonathan delights much in him. And he seeks to save his life. In verse 4 we read that "Jonathan spake good of David unto Saul, his father." He vainly seeks to turn the heart of Saul towards David. It is useless. Saul's hatred increases, and David becomes an outcast and a fugitive. And here is just where Jonathan, with all his love and delight in David, fails. He does not follow David but remains in the house of Saul, where "David's place was empty." David becomes a wanderer among the mountains of Israel, and Jonathan remains in Jerusalem to enjoy his own position and his father's palace. After the touching meeting of Jonathan and David recorded in chapter 20, David "arose and departed, and Jonathan went into the city" (vs. 42). He went right back among the enemies of the one he loved so well. And what was the end? Jonathan lost his life on the mountains of Gilboa. He was slain with the enemies of David, and his body, with theirs, was nailed in dishonor to the walls of Bethshan. He refused to share the rejection of David, and suffered loss in consequence.
All this has its lessons. Christ is the rejected One. Christians are called to share His rejection. To you, beloved fellow-believer, the house of Saul may be a circle of worldly friends, or it may be one of the various fraternal orders or societies. It may be a religious organization where Christ's name is professed, but His authority is denied. You need to withdraw yourself from these unscriptural associations, as Jonathan needed to leave the house of Saul to be in David's company. "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." "Let us go forth therefore unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach" (2 Cor. 6:14; Heb. 13:13). Jonathan ought to have gone forth unto David. In doing so he would have suffered loss and reproach from Saul, but he would have had the company of David, then high honor in David's kingdom. He did well in delighting much in David. He was right in speaking of David to his father Saul. But he lacked one thing. He shrunk from the path of separation with David. He was not with David in the mountains and the woods of his rejection. Perhaps he thought he could "do more good," as people say, by remaining in the house of Saul. He might put in a good word for David now and then and use his influence in behalf of the rejected one at Jerusalem. Christians often argue in this way when seeking to excuse themselves from the path to which truth points. But God's Word is plain: "Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord" (2 Cor. 6:17).
Christians must not remain in fellowship with those who refuse and reject the Lord Jesus. The social world rejects Him. Go to its balls and parties and attempt to "speak good" of our David, and see if they want Him.
They do not even wish to hear of Him. The political world refuses Him. He was God's candidate over eighteen hundred years ago, and they cast their vote against Him. Instead of the throne, they gave Him a cross and wrote in derision over His head, "THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS." And the religious world does not want Him. They want "earthly things" and the things which gratify the senses—they want to be entertained. They shut out the men who would preach only Christ, and prefer such as suit their "itching ears." O Christians, come forth! "Come out of her, My people" (Rev. 18:4).
Where Christ is not wanted, the Christian may not remain.
There is just one thought more I wish to notice before we close. In verses 41 and 42 of chapter 20, David and Jonathan weep one with another and kiss one another, until "David exceeded." Jonathan's love "was wonderful," but in affection as in all things else, "David exceeded." It is written of Christ "that in all things He might have the preeminence" (Col. 1:18). However great our love to Him, His love exceeds our own as an age exceeds an hour. In love, as in everything, "He might have the preeminence." All that love of His rests upon us, beloved brethren. As for you, dear friends who may yet be unsaved, it is all spread out before you—that your hearts also may be won to Him. Early in the seventh century, the good king Oswald of Northumbria requested the Scots to send a missionary to his people. The brethren of Iona sent them an austere, though well-meaning man named Cormac. He soon returned dispirited, saying the people were too obstinate to be converted. "Ah," said Aidan, standing by, "had Thy love been offered to this people, O my Savior, many hearts would surely have been touched. I will go and make Thee known—Thee, who breakest not the bruised reed!" He went and told the Anglo-Saxons of the Savior's love. Wondering multitudes listened, wept and were won. May that unfathomable love win you tonight. God grant it for Christ's sake. Amen.