THE
JUDGMENT OF GOD
Dr. W. A.
Criswell
I Peter
4:17-18
1-20-74
10:50 a.m.
Now,
the sermon this morning is in somewhat of a different vein. It's a solemn
message, one of deepest sobriety. It's an exposition—and we're preaching
through the letter of Simon Peter—it's an exposition of the fourth chapter, verses
17 and 18, and is entitled The Judgment of God. These are the words of
inspiration:
For the time is come that judgment
must begin at the house of God: and if it first begin at us, what shall the end
be to them that obey not the gospel of Christ? And if the righteous scarcely
be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?
He
rhetorically asks two questions there: if judgment falls on God's people, what
shall the end of the ungodly people be? And the second question, the next
verse: if salvation is barely secure to the righteous, what shall happen to the
obstreperously unrepentant transgressor? It's an awesome thing to think of so
let's take the first verse for our first part and the second verse for our
second part.
First:
the judgment of God upon His people. Do you remember the author of Hebrews
wrote just before the passage that you read together, "Vengeance is mine.
I will repay, saith the Lord." And again, "The Lord shall judge His
people." And the passage that you read, "It is a fearful thing to
fall into the hands of the living God, for our God is a consuming fire."
The
judgment of God upon His people. It comes in two ways: by direct intervention
of the Almighty, the hand of God upon us; second, it comes indirectly—the
judgment of God—through the permissive agency granted to Satan to hurt us, to
sift us, to weigh us, to afflict us.
First,
the judgment of God directly; the intervention of heaven in our lives here in
this world now. All the Old Testament is that, from the beginning of it to the
end of it. We read of a Samson, of a Saul, of a David—even the man after God's
own heart, to whom the Lord sent the prophet Nathan and said, "The sword
shall never leave thy house—the judgment of God upon His people here in this
world.
In
the New Testament, in the fifth chapter of the Book of Acts, Ananias and
Sapphira lied to the Holy Spirit, and they fall down dead there before the
congregation in the Lord's house. Just think of what would happen to us if all
the liars fell down dead! No wonder it says in the next verse, "Of the
rest of the people, no man durst join them." If to join them meant to
fall down dead if you told a lie or misrepresented the truth—Oh! That would be
awful on all of us! Is there anybody here who never has said
something that wasn't quite the truth? Would you hold up your hand? I'd just
like to see one more demonstration of our lying. They fell down dead: the
judgment of God upon His people.
In the eighth chapter of the Book
of Acts, the judgment of God falls upon Simon who sought to buy the power of
the Lord with money. That's where your word "simony" comes from: the
effort to buy preferment in the ecclesiastical organization of the church.
In the twelfth chapter of the Book
of Acts—just going right on through—in the twelfth chapter of the Book of Acts,
the judgment of the Lord God falls upon Herod Agrippa I, and he dies of worms.
Isn't that unspeakable?
In the thirteenth chapter of the Book
of Acts—just right on through—because Elymas, the sorcerer, opposes the
preaching of the apostle Paul in the court of Sergius Paulus—the Roman deputy,
senatorial appointee of Cyprus, the province of Cyprus—he's struck blind!
Not only does God judge His people
by direct intervention, but He does it also through the permissive will of the
Lord in an agency of Satan. Satan said to God, "No wonder Job serves You:
You don't let the wind blow upon him; You don't let his enemies get to him; You
hedge him about on every side. He doesn't serve Thee for naught; but You let
me have him, and he'll curse You to Your face!"
So God turned Job over into the
hands of Satan. And then as the story progresses, we get a little insight into
why sometimes God permits us to fall into the evil hands of the evil one. In
the nineteenth chapter of the Book of Job—you never read such pride in your
life—but when Satan got through with him Job says, "Lord, I just heard of
Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eyes seeth Thee, wherefore I abhor
myself and repent in dust and ashes."
Satan, not only sifting Job—Satan sifted
all of the apostles—he is bold in attacking God's children. He looks upon us
as a wolf looks upon a flock of sheep. To Satan, all Christians, all disciples
of Christ, are in one of two categories: to Satan we're all hypocrites or we're
all deluded. Satan thinks we're stupid, we're dupes! Or he thinks that we're
hypocrites; that we serve God for a reason, for what we can get out of it.
And Satan sifted the apostles
themselves, and he used bait for Judas, and finally so enticed Judas that Judas
committed suicide. He used money, 30 pieces of silver. A lot of God's saints
fall into that trap. Silver, money, ambition, advancement hide their faces from
the will of God.
He even baited Simon Peter with
fear for his life; and isn't that a remarkable thing? At the encouragement of
his friend, the apostle John, Simon Peter went into the courtyard where Jesus
was being tried inside. And warming himself by the devil's fire, a little maid
suggested that he must be a disciple because he talked like one of them. Simon
Peter said, "You think I talk like one of His disciples? Well, listen to
this!" And he uttered a blue streak of a curse and an oath; saying,
"I never saw Him. I don't know Him."
Isn't that remarkable what Satan
can do with God's people, even the apostles? For you see when they arrested the
Lord, the disciples—for fear of their lives—ran away; they fled. And Simon
Peter was afraid for his life because they were trying Jesus to execute Him.
How Satan sifts God's people.
But not only are the Lord's people
judged in this life, we're also judged in the life to come. The apostle Paul,
in the fifth chapter of the Second Corinthian Letter says, "For we must
all stand before the judgment seat of Christ." And then he describes to
us, in the second chapter of the First Corinthian Letter, what that judgment
is going to be like. He says:
There's no other foundation that a
man can lay but the Lord, and we build on that foundation gold, silver,
precious stones, or wood, hay, stubble. Every man's work shall be tried of
what sort it is. And if a man's work burn—burn—he shall suffer loss, though he
himself shall be saved, yet just as by fire.
When God's people stand in the
presence of the great Almighty, think of the rubbish in our lives that's going
to be burned up. How little, actually, do we do out of the sheer love for
Christ and for no other reason? Singing: it's so easy to sing in order to be
heard of men, that they hear the fine voice and look upon the beautiful
presence; but just to sing for the glory of God? Or to preach: how easy it is
to prepare a sermon—to want to prepare a sermon—that its language might be
beautiful, and its logic might be impeccable, and that its delivery might be
forceful, that the people might say, "What a fine message!" But for
the man to preach just for the hope of exalting our Lord and to pluck souls out
of the burning: How much self there is in what we do!
When we stand at the judgment bar
of almighty God, all of those things of self and pride will be burned up, all
of it! And only what is done for our blessed Lord will endure. God shall judge
His people. That's in the very woof and warp of the Word.
Now, the apostle says if judgment
falls upon God's people, what shall the end be of them that obey not the gospel
of God? When the Lord offers mercy and pardon in His love and grace and the
man turns it down, what of him? The solemnity of the judgment that shall face
a man who rejects Christ: there's no pardon, there's no grace in rejection.
Let me tell you: In my reading I
came across one of the most unusual court decisions in American jurisprudence.
It's an astonishing thing that happened. This is the decision—the unanimous
decision—of the Supreme Court of the United States under the greatest chief
justice, John Marshall, in the days of President Andrew Jackson. What happened
was this: There was a railway mail clerk riding on the train through Pennsylvania,
and he killed his fellow clerk and tied himself up in some way with a rope,
stealing the mail.
When the train got to its
destination, they found the living clerk tied up and the dead clerk lying in
his own blood. And the story of the living clerk was that they had been
assailed by bandits, by robbers, and this one was killed, and he was tied up,
and the mail was stolen. But as the officers of the law began to question the
living clerk, there were discrepancies in his story. And as they pounded in those
little crevices that didn't quite fit, the man finally confessed that he killed
his friend and had done the whole thing as a tragic hoax.
He was tried and sentenced to be
hanged in a federal penitentiary. But as time went on, as so often happens, people—in
I think misguided pity—they forget about these people that are dead, that have
suffered at the hands of the criminal in order to placate, and ameliorate, and
mollify the criminal. Isn't that right, Claude Williams? There's never a
greater truth I've said than that. These people that are dead and buried in
the ground—and I've buried some of them—and the orphans they leave behind, and
the widows they leave behind, and the tragedy and sorrow and need they leave
behind; and yet [we] never think about that. [We’re] only thinking about this
criminal, who so many times is a desperate one, a confirmed one.
Well, anyway, this pity circulated
around, and finally political pressure brought upon President Andrew Jackson,
and he pardoned this man, George Wilson. So the warden of the penitentiary
came to the man and said, "The President of the United States has pardoned
you."
To the astonishment of the warden,
and to the astonishment of the whole world, the man refused to accept the
pardon and said, "I want to be hanged. I want to die." The warden
didn't know what to do. He called in the greatest legal minds, and it was
finally carried to the Supreme Court of the United States.
And this is the decision handed
down unanimously and written by the chief justice, John Marshall. This is what
the court wrote, quote:
A pardon is a paper, the value of
which depends upon its acceptance by the person implicated. It is hardly to be
supposed that one under sentence of death would refuse to accept a pardon. But
if it is refused, it is no pardon. George Wilson must hang.
And in the federal penitentiary
at Leavenworth, Kansas, they hanged George Wilson.
That is an exact repercussion of
the truth of the living God. Christ died for our sins, He was buried for our
justification, He suffered that we might be forgiven: we have free and absolute
pardon in Him. But if a man refuses it, it is no longer a pardon; there
remains nothing left but a fearful looking for, and falling into, the hands of
the living God. For judgment must begin at the house of the Lord, and if it
first begin at us, what shall the end be of them that obey not the gospel of
Christ?
The second rhetorical question: If
the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?
What shall happen to the confirmed transgressor, the one who refuses the mercy
and pardon of Christ? If the saints are barely saved—if we scarcely are able
to enter in—what shall happen to the man who's outside the door?
That's a strange way to argue, "If
the righteous scarcely be saved . . .” What could that mean? Could it mean
that the covenant of grace is loosely, and superficially, and barely arranged
for? Was our salvation a second thought of God? And is it advantageously done?
Are we just barely in because God barely thought of it?
No! For the Word says that our
salvation was worked out in the Lamb of God who was slain before the foundation
of the earth; before God flung these spheres into their orbits He already
planned for our salvation.
Well, what is that, that the
righteous scarcely be saved? Does it refer to the atoning blood of our Lord?
That it is hardly efficacious, it is hardly sufficient? That the blood of
Christ barely is able to save us? No! The whole Bible presents the all-sufficiency
of the atonement of our Lord, “Come," says God, "Let us reason
together. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though
they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." [Isaiah 1:18] Listen
to the Word of the Lord, “for the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all
sin.” [I John 1:7] Listen to it again: "He's the propitiation of our
sins: and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world." [1
John 2:2] Where sin did abound, grace did much more over flowingly abound. [Romans
5:20] What does it mean, "…if the righteous scarcely be saved"?
That Jesus is weak? That our Savior could barely carry the burden of our lost
souls? No! No!
In that glorious song that the
choir sings, "His Name Shall Be Called Wonderful," out of the ninth chapter
of Isaiah, listen to how it begins: "For unto us a child is born, and unto
us a Son is given, and the government shall rest upon His shoulders." Great,
mighty strength in Christ! [In] Matthew 28, the Lord says, "All authority
is given unto Me in heaven and in earth." In the seventh chapter of the Book
of Hebrews: "He is able to save to the uttermost those who come unto God
by Him." There's no weakness in our Lord.
Well, what does it mean, "…if
the righteous scarcely be saved"? Does it mean that the Lord's children
may yet apostasize, we may fail of heaven's gate? We may get almost there and
then not make it? Could it be that God does not ultimately and finally save
us? Well, here again, the revelation of the Scriptures is the reverse, the
opposite of that. In the tenth chapter of the Book of John, our Lord says,
"I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish." In the
fifth chapter of the Book of Romans, for example, Paul says, "If, while we
were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, how much more,
being reconciled, shall we be saved by His life?" That is, the life of
Christ in heaven. He's up there at the right hand of the majesty in order to
see to us, that we who have trusted in Him will be ultimately and finally saved;
that we'll make it, that we'll get there. That's what the Lord is doing in
heaven now.
We are saved forever. In the
first chapter of this Book of Simon Peter that I'm preaching out of, he says:
Praise be to God, who through
Jesus Christ has begotten us unto a living hope from the dead, to an
inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, reserved in heaven to us who are kept
by the power of God.
There's no such thing as our
failing the beautiful gate. We'll make it.
Well, what, then, does it mean
"if the righteous scarcely be saved"? If we just barely make it,
where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear? Well, here's what that refers
to. Simon Peter is referring to the drag of the old nature that we Christians
have, who live in this body of flesh. Our hearts are regenerated; we've given
ourselves to Jesus. We've accepted Him as our Savior, but we still live in
this old house—this old carnal nature is still a part of us—and it drags us
down, and there's no Christian but that knows the drag of that carnality.
I was reading one of the books of
sermons by Dr.Truett, the sainted pastor—and if ever there was a sainted
pastor, he was, that man of God that preached here behind this very pulpit desk
for 47 years—now, I copied out of one of his sermons this witness. Listen to
it: Dr. Truett says,
I went for
years seeking Christ. From a lad I sought him. I was definitely called when I
was eleven years old. As vividly as though it were yesterday, I can remember
my burden, my pain, my loneliness, my fear. I was shrinking, I was timid, I
could not venture to speak to anybody. Oh, if somebody could have divined my
situation and have taught me! I knew I was a sinner. I knew I was lost. I
had a sense of alienation from the holy God because of personal sin. I knew it
all, but I could not see the way, I groped in the darkness. Then after years
and years when young manhood came on, in a quiet church like this one Sunday a
man threw out the lifeline and said to me, “Lay hold on eternal life!” and I
laid hold.
From that
little church, I went down the country road, wondering if I would ever have
another battle again. The skies were beautiful beyond words; the very stars
seemed to be one great galaxy of mighty choirs praising God, and all about me
nature seemed in unison with the divine will. I thought I would never, never,
never know what it was to step aside, to stray, to blunder, to err again.
And yet
the very next day, every dog out of the pit seemed at my heels. Doubts came,
darts pierced, temptation smoked, and clouds enshrouded. Oh, how little I knew
about what the Christian life means.
"If the righteous scarcely be
saved"; we are assailed on every side, and this old nature drags us down.
Paul cried in the seventh [chapter] of Romans, "Oh, wretched, wretched man
that I am. Who shall deliver me from this body of death? For what I want to
do, I don't do; and what I do do, I don't want to do."
Isn't that tragic? God's people
assailed every step of the way, and will be until this house of clay turns back
to dust and God speaks a new immortalized body out of the heart of the earth
and out of the depths of the ground. "If the righteous scarcely be saved
. . ." And not only the terrible tragedy of the drag of that old nature
that we still have, the same time that we have in us that new nature, the old
nature is still there.
Not only that, but the weakness of
the new nature. We are born into the kingdom of heaven, and we come in as
little babes. The man may be sixty, seventy, eighty years old—he's just saved,
he's a babe in Christ—and all of us coming into the kingdom are like little
children, little babes.
Sometimes I think of myself—and
I've been in the kingdom fifty-four years now—sometimes I think of myself still
as just learning the ABCs of the Christian faith. The weakness of the little
nature, and how much we need training, and encouraging, and teaching.
As you know, we have a little
grandson in the orbit of our family and home. His name is Paul Daniel, and
I've watched him ever since he was about that big. He's just about that big
now, and I see him toddling around. Yesterday evening I saw him stumble over a
little ole' thing, it wasn't that high. And as I looked at the little thing, I
think how much care, and attention, and direction, and love, and encouragement ;
how much has to be poured into the life of that little fellow for him ever to
be where he can stand on his own feet and make his own choices. That,
according to the Word of God, is exactly like the baby Christian. Oh, how they
need help, and encouragement, and teaching.
"If the righteous scarcely be
saved”; and not only that, but we have the opposition of the evil one. Paul
wrote to the Thessalonians, "I wanted to come to you time and again, but
Satan hindered me." In the third chapter of Zechariah, the prophet sees
Joshua, the high priest, standing before God and Satan standing at his right
hand to resist him. Everything we do, he's right there to hinder and to hurt
us.
And not only that, but the agony
of the Christian life; the Lord said in the thirteenth chapter of Luke,
"Strive." The Greek word is agonize—agonizomai —"Strive
to enter in the straight way." Strive; it is an agony. Paul wrote in the
fifth chapter of the Book of Galatians,"For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit,
and the Spirit lusteth against the flesh." [Galatians 5:17]
And not only that, but the trials
and the sorrows of the Christian life. If the saint of God barely is saved,
the trials that the child of God knows! I think of a Jacob looking upon the
coat of many colors of his beloved Joseph, and those bad, evil brothers had
taken the blood of a kid goat and had dipped the coat in that blood and brought
it to old Jacob and said, "This is your son's coat." And Jacob looks
upon it and says, "That evil animal has eaten my boy! Oh, I'll go down to
the grave mourning for my son." Israel, the prince of God.
Or think about Rachel weeping for
her children and would not be comforted because they are not. Or think of the
men; the Scriptures say men made great lamentation over Stephen, who was stoned
to death. Think of the beloved Apostle John when his brother, James, was
beheaded by the sword: God's people! God's people!
Late yesterday evening in Baylor
Hospital, I walked out of one of those rooms and walked down those steps with
my head so low and my heart so sad. One of them that I visited with was a
saint of God, and she had some kind of a tumor operation on the brain, and she
tried to talk to me, and she couldn't frame the words to say them. Her brain
was damaged. And finally she just broke out into a sobbing wail, crying,
crying, crying. And I left her, crying, crying, crying. The saints of God, they
know trial and sorrow.
"If the righteous scarcely be
saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?" Here's a
Christian, a sainted man of God, and he loses his health. And the rest of his
life he lives on a bed of pain, wracked by every hurt that the human body can
endure. But when he dies, he lifts up his eyes in glory, and there are no
crippled bodies in heaven, and there are no diseased physical frames in glory.
We are well there! God gives us new bodies.
But here is a man who's not in
Christian, and he lives in health all of his life and he dies. What is health
in hell? When he lifts up his eyes being in torments, what is that to be well
and strong?
Or here is a Christian man, and he
loses everything that he has, and he lives in poverty the rest of his days.
But when he wakes up in glory, all of the riches of heaven are his, everything,
every treasure God has is his.
Here is a man who is rich all of
his life and he lives in affluence and wealth, and he dies. What is money in
hell? "If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and
the sinner appear?" It is an awesome thing for a man to turn down the
pardon of God. It is a solemnity, a sobriety that ought to bring a man down to
his face.
O God, O Lord, I need someone to
forgive my sins! I need an advocate and a pleader to remember me at the
judgment bar of Almighty God, and I need the Lord's blessings in this life, in
this world, in this day, and in my time. Lord, if you can mediate the mercy
and the forgiveness of God to my soul, then Lord, today I take Thee for my
savior.
Would you do that? Would you? In
a moment our people stand to sing our invitation hymn, and while we sing it, a
family, a couple, or just you, responding to the appeal of Christ: "Here I
come, and here I am." On the first note of that first stanza, come. When
you stand up, stand up walking down that aisle. God speed you in the way while
we stand and while we sing.