The Text
A God Who Does What He Says
The whole of the 34th chapter of Ezekiel is devoted to the fact that God will do something. Nearly every verse pictures God saying, “I will do thus and so. I will do it.” He calls on the shepherds of the flock to listen to him, and hear his words, and soak their own souls in the greatest truth of the Bible: that the God of the Bible is not subject to conditions. That if he sets out to do something, he can do it no matter what sort of conditions prevail.
As I look at the empty seats and the lethargy and backslidings of people who call themselves children of God, if I were looking at conditions, I’d go crazy. But I’m not. I’m preaching about a God who, up till now, in the most adverse circumstances — when there wasn’t so much as a cloud the size of a man’s hand — came to the rescue of his perishing people and did great and mighty works. That isn’t fatalism; that’s our only hope. But thank God we have that hope.
There are two things God promises he will do. For certain types of people, he’ll come to the rescue — he’ll seek them out, and deal with them in mercy. For another type, he will meet them on their own ground, for God always does that. He meets you on the ground you propose to hold. If you take the position that you’re strongly fortified, that you’re fat, that you have need of nothing, that you do not need his grace or mercy — he’ll meet you on your own terms and pass you by. But if he comes across somebody that’s in a ditch and can’t get out, and admits that he’s in the ditch and would like to be helped, he’ll camp there and put his everlasting arms about you and bring you to himself.
The Question of This Hour
If we are concerned with the movement of the Spirit of God in our days, we as preachers and as individuals and as assembled congregations ought to be asking one question. What aspect, what thrust of the gospel message ought to be stressed in our day — to the point of controversy, to the point of deep issue that we demand an answer for? What emphasis of the entire gospel message ought to be the main topic of our conversation, the main emphasis of our preaching and teaching and witnessing in this day?
Because in every visitation of God in truth, up till now, each has been marked on the human side by emphasis on some particular part or phase or thrust of the entire gospel message. God be pleased to deliver us from well-balanced preachers. We need some men and women that can get hold of the truth that is the one truth this generation needs to hear and go plumb crazy on that truth. The only time God’s ever done anything remarkable in the history of the Christian church has been when a man, or some men, or congregations have been led of the Spirit to find just that truth of the gospel that must be brought to the people — and go plumb crazy over it and never say anything about anything else.
What God Did in Past Generations
In the days of the Reformation, Martin Luther and Calvin got hold of one truth, and that’s all they preached — morning, breakfast, supper, dinner: men are not justified by going through the motions or paying money to get their sins forgiven. Men are justified only and utterly and everlastingly by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. But when you preach that today, everybody goes to sleep. It’s still true, but nobody cares. That isn’t the message of this hour.
George Whitefield — perhaps the greatest preacher since New Testament days — preached one thing for thirty-odd years and never had but one message: you must be born again. He turned England upside down and had a part with Jonathan Edwards in the Great Awakening. He just said something needs to take place inside of a man. He must be made a brand new creation in the sight of God. You must be delivered from one sphere into another. But you preach it now, and everybody says, “I believe it” — and sleeps quietly on until they wake up in hell.
Jonathan Edwards, the greatest preacher America has ever had, preached that salvation is a seeing of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ — to combat the unchecked free-willism of his day that turned salvation over to the act of man. And two revivals resulted. We preach it today, and everybody sleeps on.
The Doctrine of the Devil Today
In every age, Satan fortifies himself around one error that becomes the doctrine of Satan and the belief of men. When John the Baptist came to make a people ready for the Lord, their pride in being physical descendants of Abraham insulated them. He called them a generation of vipers and said God can take of those stones and do better with them than he can with you.
Now I come to what is the belief of men today, what is the doctrine of the devil today. Ladies and gentlemen — listen to me. The devil has got this generation believing that nobody needs to be saved. Do you know anybody who needs to be saved? I mean rescued from a terrible danger. I mean delivered from terrible enemies. I mean a snatching out — a salvation — a snatching in agony out of the very gaping jaws of that which would destroy the soul in time and eternity.
Men don’t believe they need to be saved. And this generation looks at visible people like us in our churches and says, “If that’s Christianity, I don’t need it. I’m as good as they are.” For sixty years, preaching by implication has told all men that nobody stands or sits or sleeps or eats or works in dire danger of being sent to hell by a thrice-holy God.
Three Truths
First: God saves whom he will. I don’t care how they make fun of it or caricature it. It is still true that the only God we have any written record of has faithfully told us that he is not under obligation to save anybody, and that he saves whom he wills. God saves whom he will.
Second: God saves lost people. If God saves anybody, he has to get them to admit their lostness. The so-called gospel that has been everywhere preached comes to men and women with both their legs broken, with their eyes poked out, with their ribs caved in — and says, “Get up, big boy. There’s a hospital down the way; if you go to it, they’ll take care of you.” That is what they call the gospel. But I say no. A man’s got both legs broken and he’s blind and he’s deaf and his heart’s hard and his ribs gave in — what he needs is somebody to come where he is and fix him up in the awful, wretched, helpless condition he’s in. Nothing short of that is the gospel of the grace of God. It comes to the lowest wretch that ever wriggled on his way to hell. He can’t get out. And unless God finds a way to get to him, he can’t get out himself. That’s how lost people are.
Third: If God could get you lost — I mean where you’d admit it, quit your wriggling — if he can get all the wriggle out of you, he’ll save you. He can bring you to throw up your hands: “I can’t make it.” He will save you. That’s the gospel of my Lord.
The Little Boy in the Woods
A little boy lived on the outskirts of a village, just three and a half years old. His mother and father had built a picket fence completely around the little house, and the boy was allowed to play in the yard where the fence fenced him in. His mother cautioned him: don’t you get out of the yard and don’t you go into the woods. And of course — you know how it is — he couldn’t sleep at night for wanting to do what he was told not to do. So one afternoon, while mother was busy, he got the latch on the gate open, and here he went. He went out into what he thought was freedom, entered the woods, and was having a good time chasing the birds and the butterflies and squirrels and rabbits. And finally he lost all sense of time and darkness came.
The little three and a half year old boy was scared when it got dark. He said, “I got to go home.” He stopped and said, “I know it’s back that way.” And he ran, but it wasn’t back that way. He said, “Maybe it’s over that way.” And he ran, but it wasn’t that way. He ran again and again — but he couldn’t get out of the woods, and directly his strength was gone.
There’s something in the scripture: “When we were without” — what? — “strength, Christ died for us.” And when the boy was utterly without strength and without hope, all he could do was fall down and sob. He couldn’t get out. In the meantime, the search parties were on, and all through the woods came people with their lighted torches and lanterns — and one of them was his daddy.
Every once in a while, the daddy stopped and cupped his hands and called out: “Billy! Billy, where are you?” And Billy did want to be found — he was lost, he was tragic. There was nothing for him to do now, except there he was, huddled in his misery. And he heard his daddy: “Billy, where are you?” He cried, “Here I am, Daddy! Here I am, Daddy! Here I am, Daddy!” Here came Daddy — and picked him up and did for him what he could not do for himself. Brought him to safety.
That’s the gospel. That’s the truth. That’s what men need. You don’t need a boost — you need somebody to rescue you, to do for you what you cannot do for yourself. And if in the good providence of God a man or woman or boy or girl is brought to the place where he ceases his running and ceases his striving — just huddled up in his misery — I’ve got good news for you. There’s a broad in the land, what’s called the gospel, and it goes as God went after Adam: “Where are you?” Down in the ditch and can’t get out. I’ve got good news for you. Somebody will come after you. It’s him whose arms are said to be everlasting, and he’ll pick you up and he’ll take you to God. Praise his holy name.