March 23, 1856, by C. H. Spurgeon
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark
Hebrews 6:4-6
Nor can a man who commits a
sin, which is not exactly a surprise, be said to fall away. I believe that some
Christian men—(God forbid that we should say much of it!—let us cover the
nakedness of our brother with a cloak.) but I do believe that there are some
Christians who, for a period of time, have wandered into sin, and yet have not
positively fallen away. There is that black case of David—a case which has
puzzled thousands.
Certainly for some months, David lived without
making a public confession of his sin, but, doubtless, he had achings of heart,
for grace had not ceased its work: there was a spark among the ashes that
Nathan stirred up, which showed that David was not dead, or else the match
which the prophet applied would not have caught light so readily.
And
so, beloved, you may have wandered into sin for a time, and gone far from God;
and yet you are not the character here described, concerning whom it is said,
that it is impossible you should be saved; but, wanderer though you be, you are
your father's son still, and mercy cries, "Repent, repent; return unto
your first husband, for then it was better with you than it is now. Return, O
wanderer, return."
Again, falling away is not even a
giving up of profession. Some will say, "Now there is So-and-so; he used
to make a profession of Christianity, and now he denies it, and what is worse,
he dares to curse and swear, and says that he never knew Christ at all. Surely
he must be fallen away." My friend, he has fallen, fallen fearfully, and
fallen woefully; but I remember a case in Scripture of a man who denied his
Lord and Master before his own face.
You remember his name; he is an old friend
of yours—our friend Simon Peter! he denied him with oaths and curses, and said,
"I say unto thee that I know not the man." And yet Jesus looked on
Simon. He had fallen, but he had not fallen away; for, only two or three days
after that, there was Peter at the tomb of his Master, running there to meet
his Lord, to be one of the first to find him risen. Beloved, you may even have
denied Christ by open profession, and yet if you repent there is mercy for you.
Christ has not cast you away, you shall repent yet. You have not fallen away.
If you had, I might not preach to you; for it is impossible for those who have
fallen away to be renewed again unto repentance.
But some one says, "What is falling away?" Well, there never has been a case of it yet, and therefore I cannot describe it from observation; but I will tell you what I suppose it is. To fall away, would be for the Holy Spirit entirely to go out of a man—for his grace entirely to cease; not to lie dormant, but to cease to be—for God, who has begun a good work, to leave off doing it entirely—to take his hand completely and entirely away, and say, "There, man! I have half saved thee; now I will damn thee."
That is what falling away is. It is not to
sin temporarily. A child may sin against his father, and still be alive; but
falling away is like cutting the child's head off clean. Not falling merely,
for then our Father could pick us up, but being dashed down a precipice, where
we are lost for ever. Falling away would involved God's grace changing its
living nature. God's immutability becoming variable, God's faithfulness
becoming changeable, and God, himself being undeified; for all these things
falling away would necessitate.
III. But if a child of God could fall away, and grace could cease in a man's heart—now comes the third question—Paul says, IT IS IM
Methinks, however, I hear some one say, "It seems to me that it is
possible for some such to fall away," because it says, "It is
impossible, if they shall fall away, to renew them again into repentance."
Well, my friend, I will grant you your theory for a moment. You are a good
Christian this morning; let us apply it to yourself, and see how you will like
it. You have believed in Christ, and committed your soul to God, and you think,
that in some unlucky hour you may fall entirely away. Mark you, if you come to
me and tell me that you have fallen away, how would you like me to say to you,
"My friend, you are as much damned as the devil in hell! for it is
impossible to renew you to repentance?" "Oh! no, sir," you would
say, "I will repent again and join the Church."
That is just the
Arminian theory all over; but it is not in God's Scripture. If you once fall
away, you are as damned as any man who suffereth in the gulf for ever. And yet
we have heard a man talk about people being converted three, four, and five
times, and regenerated over and over again. I remember a good man (I suppose he
was) pointing to a man who was walking along the street, and saying, "That
man has been born again three times, to my certain knowledge." I could
mention the name of the individual, but I refrain from doing so. "And I
believe he will fall again," said he, "he is so much addicted to
drinking, that I do not believe the grace of God will do anything for him,
unless he becomes a teetotaller."
Now, such men cannot read the Bible;
because in case their members do positively fall away, here it is stated, as a
positive fact, that it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance. But I
ask my Arminian friend, does he not believe that as long as there is life there
is hope? "Yes," he says:
"While
the lamp holds out to burn,
The vilest sinner may return."
The vilest sinner may return."