Thomas Watson, 1660
An exposition of Matthew 5:1-12
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be
comforted." Matthew 5:4
Here are eight steps leading to true blessedness.
They may be compared to Jacob's Ladder, the top whereof reached to heaven.
We have already gone over one step—and now let us proceed to the second.
'Blessed are those who mourn.' We must go through the valley of tears—to
paradise! Mourning would be a sad and unpleasant subject to address—were it
not that it has blessedness going before, and comfort coming
after. Mourning is put here, for repentance. It implies both
sorrow, which is the cloud, and tears which are the rain
distilling in this golden shower!
The words fall into two parts, first, an assertion—that
mourners are blessed people; second, a reason—because they shall be
The ASSERTION—mourners are blessed people.
'Blessed are you who weep now' (Luke 6:21). Though the saints' tears are
bitter tears—yet they are blessed tears. But will all
mourning entitle a man to blessedness? No! there is a twofold mourning which
is far from making one blessed. There is a carnal mourning, and a
1. There is a CARNAL mourning when we lament outward
losses. 'A cry of anguish is heard in Ramah—weeping and mourning
unrestrained. Rachel weeps for her children, refusing to be comforted—for
they are dead!' (Matthew 2:18). There are abundance of these carnal tears
shed. We have many who can mourn over a dead child—who cannot mourn over
a crucified Savior! Worldly sorrow hastens our funerals. 'The sorrow of the
world works death' (2 Corinthians 7:10).
2. There is a DIABOLICAL mourning and that is
When a man mourns that he cannot satisfy his impure lust.
This is like the devil, whose greatest torture is that he can be no more
wicked. Thus Ammon mourned and was sick, until he defiled his sister Tamar
(2 Samuel 13:2). Thus Ahab mourned for Naboth's vineyard, "So Ahab went home
angry and sullen. The king went to bed with his face to the wall and refused
to eat!' (1 Kings 21:4). This was a devilish mourning.
Again, when men are sorry for the good which they have
done. Pharaoh was grieved that 'he had let the children of Israel go'
(Exodus 14:5). Many are so devilish that they are troubled they have prayed
so much and have heard so many sermons. They repent of their repentance. But
if we repent of the good which is past—God will not repent of the evil which
is to come.
The OBJECTS of spiritual mourning. To
illustrate this point of holy mourning, I shall show you what is the
adequate object of it. There are two objects of spiritual mourning—sin and
The first object of spiritual mourning is SIN;
and that twofold, our own sin; and the sin of others.
1. Our OWN sin. Sin must have tears. While we
carry the fire of sin about with us—we must carry the water of
tears to quench it! (Ezekiel 7:16). 'They are not blessed' (says
Chrysostom) 'who mourn for the dead—but rather those who mourn for
sin.' And indeed it is with good reason we mourn for sin, if we consider
the GUILT of sin, which binds over to
wrath. Will not a guilty person weep, who is to be bound over to the
penalty? Every sinner is to be tried for his life and is sure to be cast
away—if sovereign mercy does not become an advocate for him.
The POLLUTION of sin. Sin is a plague spot,
and will you not labor to wash away this spot with your tears? Sin makes a
man worse than a toad or serpent. The serpent has nothing but what God has
put into —but the sinner has that which the devil has put into him. 'Why has
Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit?' (Acts 5:3). What a
strange metamorphosis has sin made! The soul, which was once of an azure
brightness, sin has made of a sable color! We have in our hearts the seed of
the unpardonable sin. We have the seed of all those sins for which the
damned are now tormented! And shall we not mourn? He who does not mourn,
has surely lost the use of his reason. But every mourning for sin is not
sufficient to entitle a man to blessedness. I shall show what is not
the right gospel-mourning for sin, and then what is the right
gospel-mourning for sin.
What is NOT the right gospel-mourning for sin? There
is a fivefold mourning which is false and spurious.
A despairing kind of mourning. Such was Judas'
mourning. He saw his sin, he was sorry, he made confession, he justifies
Christ, he makes restitution (Matthew 27). Judas, who is in hell, did more
than many nowadays! He confessed his sin. He did not plead necessity or good
intentions—but he makes an open acknowledgment of his sin. 'I have sinned!'
Judas made restitution. His conscience told him he came wickedly by the
money. It was 'the price of blood', and he 'brought back the thirty pieces
of silver to the chief priests' (Matthew 27:3). But how many are there who
invade the rights and possessions of others—but not a word of restitution!
Judas was more honest than they are. Well, wherein was Judas' sorrow
blameworthy? It was a mourning joined with despair. He thought his wound
broader than the plaster. He drowned himself in tears. His was not
repentance unto life (Acts 11:18)—but rather unto death.
An hypocritical mourning. The heart is very
deceitful. It can betray as well by a tear—as by a kiss. Saul looks like a
mourner, and as he was sometimes 'among the prophets' (1 Samuel 10:12) So he
seemed to be among the penitents—'And Saul said unto Samuel, I have sinned,
for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord' (1 Samuel 15:24). Saul
played the hypocrite in his mourning, for he did not take shame to
himself—but he did rather take honor to himself: 'honor me before the elders
of my people' (verse 30). He pared and minced his sin that it might appear
lesser, he laid his sin upon the people, 'because I feared the people'
(verse 24). They would have me fly upon the spoil, and I dare do no other. A
true mourner labors to draw out sin in its bloody colors, and accent it with
all its killing aggravations, that he may be deeply humbled before the Lord.
'Our iniquities are increased over our head, and our sin has grown up unto
the heavens' (Ezra 9:6). The true penitent labors to make the worst
of his sin. Saul labors to make the best of sin; like a patient that
makes the best of his disease, lest the physician should prescribe him too
sharp remedy. How easy is it for a man to put a cheat upon his own soul—and
by hypocrisy to sweep himself into hell!
A forced mourning. When tears are pumped out by
God's judgements, these are like the tears of a man who has the stone, or
that lies upon the rack. Such was Cain's mourning. 'My punishment is greater
than I can bear!' (Genesis 4:13). His punishment troubled him more
than his sin! To mourn only for fear of hell is like a thief that
weeps for the penalty, rather than the offence. The tears of
the wicked are forced by the fire of affliction!
An external mourning; when sorrow lies only on the
outside. 'They disfigure their faces' (Matthew 6:16). The eye is
tender—but the heart is hard. Such was Ahab's mourning. 'He tore his
clothes and put sackcloth on his flesh, and went softly' (1 Kings 21:27).
His clothes were torn—but his heart was not torn. He had
sackcloth but no sorrow. He hung down his head like a
bulrush—but his heart was like granite. There are many who may be
compared to weeping marbles, they are both watery and flinty.
A vain fruitless mourning. Some will shed a few
tears—but are as bad as ever. They will deceive and be unclean. Such a kind
of mourning there is in hell. The damned weep—but the continue to blaspheme
What is the RIGHT gospel-mourning? That mourning
which will entitle a man to blessedness has these qualifications:
It is spontaneous and free. It must come as
water out of a spring, not as fire out of a flint. Tears for sin must be
like the myrrh which drops from the tree freely without cutting or forcing.
Mary Magdalene's repentance was voluntary. 'She stood weeping' (Luke 7). She
came to Christ with ointment in her hand, with love in her heart,
with tears in her eyes. God is for a freewill offering. He does not
love to be put to distrain.
Gospel-mourning is spiritual; that is, when we
mourn for sin more than suffering. Pharaoh says, "Take away the plague!" He
never thought of the plague of his heart. A sinner mourns because
judgment follows at the heels of sin—but David cries out, 'My sin
is ever before me' (Psalm 51:3). God had threatened that the sword should
ride in circuit in his family—but David does not say, 'The sword is
ever before me'—but 'My sin is ever before me'. The offence against
God troubled him. He grieved more for his treason against God—than the
bloody axe. Thus the penitent prodigal, 'I have sinned against heaven, and
before you' (Luke 15:18,21). He does not say, 'I am almost starved among the
husks'—but 'I have offended my father'. In particular, our mourning for sin,
if it is spiritual, must be under this threefold notion:
1. We must mourn for sin, as it is an act of hostility
and enmity against God. Sin not only makes us unlike God—but contrary to
God: 'They have walked contrary unto me' (Leviticus 26:40). Sin affronts and
resists the Holy Spirit (Acts 7:51). Sin is contrary to God's nature; God is
holy; sin is an impure thing. Sin is contrary to his will. If God be of one
mind—sin is of another. Sin does all it can to spite God. The Hebrew word
for 'sin' signifies 'rebellion'. A sinner fights against God (Acts 5:39).
Now when we mourn for sin as it is a walking contrary to heaven, this is a
2. We must mourn for sin, as it is the highest
ingratitude against God. It is a kicking against the breasts
of mercy. God sends his Son to redeem us, his Spirit to comfort us. We
sin against the blood of Christ, the grace of the Spirit—and shall we not
mourn? We complain of the unkindness of others, and shall we not lay to
heart our own unkindness against God? Caesar took it unkindly that his son,
Brutus, should stab him—'and you, my son!' May not the Lord say to us,
'These wounds I have received in the house of my friend!' (Zechariah 13:6).
Israel took their jewels and earrings and made a golden calf of them. The
sinner takes the jewels of God's mercies and makes use of them to sin.
Ingratitude is a 'crimson sin' (Isaiah 1:18). Sins against gospel-love are
worse in some sense, than the sins of the devils, for they never had an
offer of grace offered to them. Now when we mourn for sin as it has its
accent of ingratitude upon it, this is an evangelical mourning.
3. We must mourn for sin as it is a privation; it
keeps good things from us; it hinders our communion with God. Mary wept for
Christ's absence. 'They have taken away my Lord!' (John 20:13). So our sins
have taken away our Lord. They have deprived us of his sweet presence. Will
not he grieve, who has lost a rich jewel? When we mourn for sin under this
notion, as it makes the Sun of Righteousness withdraw from our horizon; when
we mourn not so much that peace is gone, and trading is gone—but God is
gone, 'My beloved had withdrawn himself' (Canticles 5:6); this is a holy
mourning. The mourning for the loss of God's favor—is the best way to
regain his favor. If you have lost a friend, all your weeping will not
fetch him again—but if you have lost God's presence, your mourning will
bring your God again.
Gospel-mourning sends the soul to God. When the
prodigal son repented, he went to his father. 'I will arise and go to my
father' (Luke 15:18). Jacob wept and prayed (Hosea 12:4). The
people of Israel wept and offered sacrifice (Judges 2:4,5). Gospel-mourning
puts a man upon duty. The reason is, that in true sorrow there is a mixture
of hope, and hope puts the soul upon the use of means. That mourning which
like the 'flaming sword' keeps the soul from approaching to God, and beats
it off from duty—is a sinful mourning. It is a sorrow hatched in hell. Such
was Saul's grief—which drove him to the witch of Endor (1 Samuel 28:7).
Evangelical mourning is a spur to prayer. The child who weeps for offending
his father goes to his presence and will not leave until his father is
reconciled to him. Absalom could not be quiet 'until he had seen the king's
face' (2 Samuel 14:32, 33).
Gospel-mourning is for sin in particular. The
deceitful man is occupied with generalities. It is with a true
penitent as it is with a wounded man. He comes to the surgeon and shows him
all his wounds. Here I was cut with the sword; here I was shot with a
bullet. So a true penitent bewails all his particular sins. 'We have served
Baal' (Judges 10:10). They mourned for their idolatry. And David lays his
fingers upon the sore—and points to that very sin which troubled him (Psalm
51:4). 'I have done this evil!' He means his blood-guiltiness. A
wicked man will say he is a sinner—but a child of God says, 'I have
done this evil!' Peter wept for that particular sin of denying
Christ. It is reported that Peter never heard a rooster crow—but he fell
a-weeping. There must be a particular repentance, before we have a general
Gospel tears must drop from the eye of faith. 'The
father of the child cried out with tears, 'Lord, I believe'
(Mark 9:24). Our disease must make us mourn—but when we look up to our
Physician, who has made a remedy of his own blood, we must not mourn without
hope. Believing tears are precious. When the clouds of sorrow have overcast
the soul, some sunshine of faith must break forth. The soul will be
swallowed up of sorrow, it will be drowned in tears—if faith does not keep
it up from sinking. Though our tears drop to the earth—yet our faith must
reach heaven. After the greatest rain, faith must appear as the rainbow in
the cloud. The tears of faith are bottled as precious wine. 'You keep track
of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have
recorded each one in your book' (Psalm 56:8).
Gospel-mourning is joined with self-loathing. The
sinner admires himself. The penitent loathes himself. 'You
shall loath yourselves in your own sight for all your evils' (Ezekiel
20:43). A true penitent is troubled not only for the shameful consequence
of sin—but for the loathsome nature of sin; not only the sting
of sin—but the deformed face of sin. How did the leper loathe himself!
(Leviticus 13:45). The true mourner cries out, O these impure eyes! this
heart which is a conclave of wickedness! He not only leaves sin—but loathes
sin. He who has fallen in the dirt loathes himself (Hosea 14:1).
Gospel-mourning must be purifying. Our tears must
make us more holy. We must so weep for sin, as to weep out sin. Our tears
must drown our sins. We must not only mourn—but turn. 'Turn to me with
weeping' (Joel 2:12). What good is it, to have a watery eye and a whorish
heart? It is foolish to say it is day, when the air is full of
darkness; so to say you repent, when you draw dark shadows in your life.
It is an excellent saying of Augustine, 'He truly bewails the sins he has
committed, who never commits the sins he has bewailed'. True mourning is
like the 'water of jealousy' (Numbers 5:12-22). It makes the thigh of sin to
rot. 'You broke the heads of the monster in the waters.' (Psalm 74:13). The
heads of our sins, these monsters, are broken in the waters of true
repentance. True tears are cleansing. They are like a flood that carries
away all the rubbish of our sins away with it. The waters of holy mourning
are like the river Jordan wherein Naaman washed and was cleansed of his
leprosy. It is reported that there is a river in Sicily where, if the
blackest sheep are bathed, they become white; so, though our sins be as
scarlet—yet by washing in this river of repentance, they become white as
snow. Naturalists say of the serpent, before it goes to drink it vomits out
its poison. In this 'be wise as serpents'. Before you think to drink down
the sweet cordials of the promises, cast up the poison that lies at your
heart. Do not only mourn for sin—but break from sin.
Gospel-mourning must be joined with hatred of sin.
'What indignation!' (2 Corinthians 7:11). We must not only abstain from
sin—but abhor sin. The dove hates the least feather of the hawk. A true
mourner hates the least motion to sin. A true mourner is a sin-hater. Amnon
hated Tamar more than ever he loved her (2 Samuel 13:15). To be a sin-hater
implies two things: first, to look upon sin as the most deadly evil—as the
essence of all evil. It looks more ghastly than death or hell. Second, to be
implacably incensed against it. A sin-hater will never admit of any terms of
peace. The war between him and sin is like the war between Rehoboam and
Jeroboam. 'There was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all their days' (1
Kings 14:30). Anger may be reconciled—hatred cannot. True
mourning begins in the love of God—and ends in the hatred of sin.
Gospel-mourning in some cases is joined with restitution.
It is as well a sin to violate the name of another—as the chastity
of another. If we have eclipsed the good name of others, we are bound to
ask them for forgiveness. If we have wronged them in their estate by unjust,
fraudulent dealing, we must make them some compensation. Thus Zacchaeus, 'If
I have taken anything from any man by false accusation, I restore him
fourfold' (Luke 19:8), according to the law of Exodus 22:1. James bids us
not only look to the heart but the hand: 'Cleanse your
hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts' (James 4:8). If you have
wronged another, cleanse your hands by restitution. Be assured, without
Gospel-mourning must be a speedy mourning. We must
take heed of adjourning our repentance, and putting it off until death. As
David said, 'I will pay my vows now' (Psalm 116:18), so should a Christian
say, 'I will mourn for sin now.' 'Blessed are you that weep now'
(Luke 6:21). God has encircled us in the compass of a little time, and
charges us immediately to bewail our sins. 'Now God calls all men
everywhere to repent' (Acts 17:30). We know not whether we may have another
day granted us. Oh let us not put off our mourning for sin until the making
of our will. Do not think holy mourning is only a deathbed duty. You may
seek the blessing with tears, as Esau when it is too late. How long
shall I say that I will repent tomorrow? Why not at this instant? 'Delay
brings danger'. Caesar's deferring to read his letter before he went to the
Senate-house, cost him his life. The true mourner makes haste to meet an
angry God, as Jacob did his brother; and the present he sends before, is the
sacrifice of tears.
Gospel-mourning for sin is perpetual. There are some
who at a sermon will shed a few tears—but they are soon dried up. The
hypocrite's sorrow is like a vein opened and presently stopped. The Hebrew
word for 'eye' signifies also 'a fountain', to show that the eye must run
like a fountain for sin and not cease; but it must not be like the Libyan
fountain which the ancients speak of—in the morning the water is hot, at
midday cold. The waters of repentance must not overflow with more heat in
the morning, at the first hearing of the gospel; and at midday, in the midst
of health and prosperity, grow cold and be ready to freeze. No! it must be a
daily weeping. As Paul said, 'I die daily' (1 Corinthians 15:31), so a
Christian should say, 'I mourn daily'. Therefore keep open an outflow of
godly sorrow, and be sure it is not stopped until death. 'Let your tears
flow like a river. Give yourselves no rest from weeping day or night'
(Lamentations 2:18). It is reported of holy John Bradford that scarcely a
day passed him wherein he did not shed some tears for sin. Daily mourning is
a good antidote against backsliding. I have read of one that had an
epilepsy, and being dipped in seawater, was cured. The washing of our souls
daily in the brinish waters of repentance is the best way both to prevent
and cure the falling into relapses.
Even God's own children must mourn after pardon; for God,
in pardoning, does not pardon at one instant sins past and future; but as
repentance is renewed, so pardon is renewed. Should God by one act pardon
sins future as well as past, this would make void part of Christ's office.
What need were there of his intercession, if sin should be pardoned before
it be committed? There are sins in the godly of daily incursion, which must
be mourned for. Though sin is pardoned, still it rebels; though it be
covered, it is not cured (Romans 7:23). There is that in the best Christian,
which is contrary to God. There is that in him, which deserves hell—and
shall he not mourn? A ship that is always leaking must have the water
continually pumped out. While the soul leaks by sin, we must be still
pumping at the leak by repentance. Think not, O Christian, that your sins
are washed away only by Christ's blood—but by water and blood. The brazen
laver (Exodus 30:18) that the people of Israel were to wash in might be a
fit emblem of this spiritual laver, tears and blood; and when holy mourning
is thus qualified, this is that 'sorrowing after a godly sort' (2
Corinthians 7:11), which makes a Christian eternally blessed.
2. As we must mourn for our own sins—so we must lay to
heart the sins of OTHERS. Thus we should wish with Jeremiah, that
our eyes were a fountain of tears, that we might weep day and night for the
iniquity of the times. Our blessed Savior mourned for the sins of the Jews:
'Being grieved for the hardness of their hearts' (Mark 3:5). And holy David,
looking upon the sins of the wicked, his heart was turned into a spring, and
his eyes into rivers. 'Rivers of tears run down my eyes, because they do not
keep your law' (Psalm 119:136). Lot's righteous soul 'was vexed with the
filthy lives of the wicked' (2 Peter 2:7). Lot took the sins of Sodom and
made spears of them to pierce his own soul. Cyprian says that in the
primitive times, when a virgin who vowed herself to religion had defiled her
chastity, shame and grief filled the whole congregation.
Have not we cause to mourn for the sins of others? The
whole axle of the nation is ready to break under the weight of sin. What an
inundation of wickedness is there among us? Mourn for the hypocrisy of the
times. Jehu says 'Come, see my zeal for the Lord'—but it was zeal for the
throne (2 Kings 10:16). This is the hypocrisy of some. They entitle God to
whatever they do. They make bold with God to use his name to their
wickedness; as if a thief should pretend the king's warrant for his robbery.
'They build up Zion with blood; yet will they lean upon the Lord and say, Is
not the Lord among us?' (Micah 3:10, 11). Many with a religious kiss smite
the gospel under the fifth rib. Could not Ahab be content to kill and take
possession—but must he usher it in with religion, and make fasting a preface
to his murder? (1 Kings 21:12). The white devil is worst! To hear the
name of God in the mouths of scandalous hypocrites, is enough to affright
others from the profession of religion.
Mourn for the errors and blasphemies of the
nation. There is now a free trade of error. Toleration gives men a patent to
sin. Whatever cursed opinion which has been long ago buried in the
church—but is now dug out of the grave, and by some worshiped! England is
grown as needon in her religion, as she is antic in her fashions. Did men's
faces alter as fast as their religious opinions, we would not know them.
Mourn for covenant violation. This sin is a flying
scroll against England. Breach of covenant is spiritual harlotry, and for
this God may name us 'Not my people', and give us a bill of divorce (Hosea
Mourn for the pride of the nation. Our condition
is low—but our hearts are high. Mourn for the profaneness of the
land. England is like that man in the gospel who had 'an unclean demonic
spirit' (Luke 4:33). Mourn for the removing of landmarks (Deuteronomy
27:17). Mourn for the contempt offered to magistracy, the spitting in the
face of authority. Mourn that there are so few mourners. Surely if we mourn
not for the sins of others, it is to be feared that we are not sensible of
our own sins. God looks upon us as guilty of those sins in others—which we
do not lament. Our tears may help to quench God's wrath!
The saints must be sensible of the injuries of God's
church. 'We wept when we remembered Zion' (Psalm 137:1). The people of
Israel, being debarred from the place of public worship, sat by the rivers
weeping. They laid aside all their musical instruments. 'We hung our harps
upon the willows' (verse 2). We were as far from joy as those willows were
from fruit. 'How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?' (verse
4). We were fitter to weep than to sing. The sound of song is not agreeable
When we consider the miseries of many Christians in
foreign parts, who have been driven from their habitations because they
would not espouse the Popish religion; when instead of a Bible, a crucifix;
instead of prayers, mass; instead of going to church, they should go on
pilgrimage to some saint or relic. When we consider these things, our eyes
should run down. Mourn to see God's church a bleeding vine. Mourn to see
Christ's spouse with 'garments rolled in blood'.
Methinks I hear England's death bell ring. Let us shed
some tears over dying England. Let us bewail our internal divisions.
England's divisions have been fatal. How can we stand, but by a miracle of
free grace? Truth has fallen in the streets—and peace has fled. England's
fine coat of peace, is torn and, like Joseph's coat, dipped in blood.
Peace is the glory of a nation. Some observe, if the top of the beech tree
be taken off—that the whole tree withers. Peace is the apex and top of all
earthly blessings. This top being cut off, we may truly say the body of the
whole nation begins to wither apace.
Mourn for the oppressions of England. The people of this
land have laid out their money only to buy mourning.
Though we must always keep open the flow of godly
sorrow—yet there are some seasons wherein our tears should overflow, as the
water sometimes rises higher. There are three special SEASONS of
extraordinary mourning, when it should be as it were high-water in the
1. When there are tokens of God's wrath breaking forth in
the nation. England has been under God's black rod these many years. The
Lord has drawn his sword. O that our tears may blunt the edge of this sword!
When it is a time of treading down, now is a time of breaking up the fallow
ground of our hearts. 'Therefore said I, look away from me, I will weep
bitterly for it is a time of treading down' (Isaiah 22:4, 5). 'A day of
darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds . . . therefore turn to me with
weeping and with mourning' (Joel 2:2, 12). Rain follows thunder. When
God thunders in a nation by his judgements, now the showers of tears
must distill. When God smites upon our back, we must 'smite upon our thigh'
(Jeremiah 31:19). When God seems to stand upon the 'threshold of the temple'
(Ezekiel 10:4), as if he were ready to take his wings and fly, then is it a
time to lie weeping between 'the porch and the altar'. If the Lord seems to
be packing up and carrying away his gospel—it is now high time to mourn,
that by our tears possibly his 'repentings may be kindled' (Hosea 11:8).
2. Before the performing solemn duties of God's worship,
as fasting or receiving the Lord's Supper. Christian, are you about to
seek God in an extraordinary manner? 'Seek him sorrowing' (Luke 2:48). Would
you have the smiles of God's face, the kisses of his lips? Set open all the
springs of mourning, and then God will draw near to you in an ordinance and
say, 'Here I am!' (Isaiah 58:9). When Jacob wept, then he 'found God in
Bethel' (Hosea 12:4). 'He called the name of the place Peniel, for I have
seen God face to face' (Genesis 32:30). Give Christ the wine of your
tears to drink—and in the sacrament he will give you the wine of his blood
3. After scandalous relapses. Though I will not say
that there is no mercy for sins of relapse—yet I say there is no mercy
without bitter mourning. Scandalous sins reflect dishonor upon religion (2
Samuel 12:14). Therefore now our cheeks should be covered with blushing, and
our eyes bedewed with tears. Peter, after his denying Christ, wept bitterly.
Christian, has God given you over to any enormous sin as a just reward of
your pride and carnal security? Go into the 'weeping bath'. Sins of
infirmity injure the soul—but scandalous sins wound the gospel.
Lesser sins grieve the Spirit—but greater sins vex the Spirit
(Isaiah 63:10). And if that blessed Dove weeps, shall not we weep? When the
air is dark then the dew falls. When we have by scandalous sin darkened the
luster of the gospel, now is the time for the dew of holy tears to fall from
Next to the seasons of mourning, let us consider the
DEGREE of mourning. The mourning for sin must be a very great mourning.
The Greek word imports a great sorrow, such as is seen at the funeral of a
dear friend. 'They shall look on me whom they have pierced, and they shall
mourn for him, as one that mourns for his only son' (Zechariah 12:10). The
sorrow for an only child is very great. Such must be the sorrow for sin. 'In
that day there shall be great mourning, as the mourning of
Hadadrimmon in the valley of Megiddon' (verse 11). In that valley Josiah,
that famous and pious prince, was cut off by an untimely death, at whose
funeral there was bitter lamentation. Thus bitterly must we bewail, not the
death—but the life of our sins. Now then, to set forth the degree of sorrow.
Our mourning for sin must be so great as to exceed all
other grief. Eli's mourning for the ark was such that it swallowed up the
loss of his two children. Spiritual grief must preponderate over all other
grief. We should mourn more for sin than for the loss of friends or estate.
We should endeavor to have our sorrow rise up to the same
height and proportion as our sin does. Manasseh was a great sinner—and
a great mourner. 'He humbled himself greatly' (2 Chronicles 33:12).
Manasseh made the streets run with blood—and he made the prison in
Babylon run with tears. Peter wept bitterly. A true mourner labors
that his repentance may be as eminent as his sin.
Having shown the nature of mourning, I shall next show
what is the OPPOSITE to holy mourning.
The opposite to mourning is 'hardness of heart', which in Scripture is
called 'a heart of stone' (Ezekiel 36:26). a heart of stone is far from
mourning and repenting. This heart of stone is known by two symptoms:
One symptom is insensibility.
A stone is not sensible of anything. Lay weight upon it; or grind it to
powder—it does not feel. So it is with a hard heart. It is insensible to
both its own sin and God's wrath. The stone in the kidneys is
felt—but not the stone in the heart. 'Having lost all sensitivity.'
A heart of stone is known by its
inflexibility. A stone will not bend. That is hard, which does
not yield to the touch. So it is with a hard heart. It will not comply with
God's command. It will not stoop to Christ's scepter. A heart of stone will
sooner break, than bend by repentance. It is so far from
yielding to God, that like the anvil—it beats back the hammer. It 'always
resists the Holy Spirit' (Acts 7:51).
Oh Christians, if you would be spiritual mourners, take
heed of this stone of the heart. 'Harden not your hearts' (Hebrews
3:7,8). A stony heart is the worst heart. If it were bronze, it might be
melted in the furnace; or it might be bent with the hammer. But a stony
heart is such, that only the arm of God can break it--and only the blood of
Christ can soften it! Oh the misery of a hard heart! A hard heart is void of
all grace. While the wax is hard, it will not take the impression of the
seal. The heart, while it is hard, will not take the stamp of grace. It must
first be made tender and melting. The plough of the Word will not
penetrate a hard heart. A hard heart is good for nothing—but to make fuel
for hellfire. 'Because of your hardness and unrepentant heart you are
storing up wrath for yourself in the day of wrath' (Romans 2:5). Hell is
full of hard hearts—there is not one soft heart there. There is weeping
there—but no softness. We read of 'vessels of his wrath--prepared for
destruction' (Romans 9:22). Hardness of heart, fits these vessels for hell,
and makes them like withered wood, which is fit only to burn.
Hardness of heart makes a man's condition worse than all
his other sins besides. If one is guilty of great sins—yet if he can mourn,
there is hope. Repentance unravels sin, and makes sin not to be. But
hardness of heart binds guilt fast upon the soul. It seals a man under
wrath. It is not heinousness of sin—but hardness of heart which damns. This
makes the sin against the Holy Spirit incapable of mercy, because the sinner
who has committed it, is incapable of repentance.
Sundry sharp reproofs
This doctrine draws up a charge against several sorts of
1. Those who think themselves good Christians—yet have
not learned this art of holy mourning. Luther calls mourning 'a
rare herb'. Men have tears to shed for other things—but have none to spare
for their sins. There are many murmurers—but few mourners.
Most are like the stony ground which 'lacked moisture' (Luke 8:6).
We have many cry out of hard times—but they are
not sensible of hard hearts. Hot and dry is the worst temper of the
body. To be hot in sin, and to be so dry as to have no tears—is the worst
temper of the soul. How many are like Gideon's dry fleece, and like the
mountains of Gilboa! There is no dew upon them. Did Christ bleed for sin—and
can you not weep! If God's bottle is not filled with tears—his vial will
be filled with wrath! We have many sinners in Zion—but few mourners in
Zion. It is with most people as with a man on the top of a mast; the winds
blow and the waves beat, and the ship is in danger of ship wreck—and he is
fast asleep! So when the waves of sin have even covered men and the stormy
wind of God's wrath blows, and is ready to blow them into hell—yet they are
asleep in carnal security.
2. This doctrine reproves them who instead of weeping for
sin, spend their days in mirth and jollity. Instead of
mourners we have jesters. 'They sing with tambourine and harp.
They make merry to the sound of the flute' (Job 21:12, 13). 'They do not
give themselves to mourning—but follow after their pleasures'. They live
epicures, and die atheists. James bids us 'turn our laughter to mourning'
(James 4:9). But they turn their mourning to laughter. Samson was brought
forth to amuse the Philistines (Judges 16:25). The jovial sinner amuses the
devil. It is a saying of Theophylact, 'It is one of the worst sights to
see a sinner go laughing to hell.' How unseasonable is it to take the
harp and violin—when God is taking the sword! 'A sword is being sharpened
and polished. It is being prepared for terrible slaughter; it will flash
like lightning! Now will you laugh?' (Ezekiel 21:9, 10). This is a sin which
'The Lord, the Lord Almighty, called you to weep and
mourn. He told you to shave your heads in sorrow for your sins and to wear
clothes of sackcloth to show your remorse. But instead, you dance and play;
you feast on meat, and drink wine. The Lord Almighty has revealed to me that
this sin will never be forgiven you until the day you die. That is the
judgment of the Lord, the Lord Almighty' (Isaiah 22:12-14). That is, this
your sin shall not be done away by any expiatory sacrifice—but vengeance
shall pursue you forever!
3. This doctrine reproves those who, instead of mourning
for sin, rejoice in sin (Proverbs 2:14); 'Who take pleasure in
iniquity' (2 Thessalonians 2:12). Wicked men in this sense are worse than
the damned in hell, for they take little pleasure in their sins. There are
some so impudently profane, that they will make themselves and others merry
with their sins. Sin is a soul sickness (Luke 5:31). Will a man make merry
with his disease? Ah wretch! did Christ bleed for sin—and do you
laugh at sin! Is it a time for a man to be jesting when he is upon the
scaffold, and his head is to be stricken off? You who laugh at sin now, 'So
I will laugh when you are in trouble! I will mock you when
disaster overtakes you—when calamity overcomes you like a storm, when
you are engulfed by trouble, and when anguish and distress
overwhelm you!' Proverbs 1:24-27
4. This doctrine reproves those that cry down mourning
for sin. They are like the Philistines who stopped-up the wells
(Genesis 26:15). These would stop-up the wells of godly sorrow. Antinomians
say this is a legal doctrine—but Christ here preaches it: 'Blessed are those
who mourn.' And the apostles preached it, 'And they went out and preached
that men should repent' (Mark 6:12). Holy sincerity will put us upon
mourning for sin. He who has the heart of a child cannot but weep for his
unkindness against God. Mourning for sin is the very fruit and product of
the Spirit of grace (Zechariah 12:10). Such as cry down repentance, cry down
the Spirit of grace. Mourning for sin is the only way to keep off wrath from
us. Such as with Samson would break this pillar, go about to pull down the
vengeance of God upon the land. To all such I say, as Peter to Simon Magus,
'Repent therefore of this your wickedness and pray God if perhaps the
thought of your heart may be forgiven you', O sinner (Acts 8:22). Repent
that you have cried down repentance.
MOTIVES to holy mourning
Let me exhort Christians to holy mourning. I now persuade
to such a mourning as will prepare the soul for blessedness. Oh that our
hearts were spiritual stills, distilling the water of holy tears! Christ's
doves weep. 'They that escape shall be like doves of the valleys, all of
them mourning, everyone for his iniquity' (Ezekiel 7:16).
There are several divine motives to holy mourning:
1. Tears cannot be put to a better use. If you
weep for outward losses, you lose your tears. It is like a shower upon a
rock, which does no good; but tears for sin are blessed tears. 'Blessed are
those who mourn.' These poison our corruptions; salt-water kills the worms.
The brinish water of repenting tears will help to kill that worm of sin
which would gnaw the conscience.
2. Gospel-mourning is an evidence of grace. 'I
will pour upon the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the
Spirit of grace, and they shall mourn . . .' (Zechariah 12:10). The Holy
Spirit descended on Christ like a dove (Luke 3:22). The dove is a weeping
creature. Where there is a dove-like weeping, it is a good sign the Spirit
of God has descended there. Weeping for sin is a sign of the new birth. As
soon as the child is born, it weeps: 'And behold the babe wept' (Exodus
2:6). To weep kindly for sin is a good sign we are born of God. Mourning
shows a 'heart of flesh' (Ezekiel 36:26). A stone will not melt. When the
heart is in a melting frame, it is a sign the heart of stone is taken away.
3. The preciousness of tears. Tears dropping
from a mournful, penitent eye, are like water dropping from the roses—very
sweet and precious to God. A fountain in the garden makes it pleasant. That
heart is most delightful to God—which has a fountain of sorrow running in
it. 'Mary stood at Christ's feet weeping' (Luke 7:38). Her tears were more
fragrant than her ointment. The incense, when it is broken, smells sweetest.
When the heart is broken for sin, then our services give forth their
sweetest perfume. 'There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repents'
(Luke 15:7). Whereupon Bernard calls tears 'the wine of angels'. And surely,
God delights much in tears, else he would not keep a bottle for them (Psalm
56:8). One calls tears 'a fat sacrifice', which under the law was most
acceptable (Leviticus 3:3). Jerome calls mourning a plank after shipwreck.
Chrysostom calls tears a sponge to wipe off sin. Tears are powerful orators
for mercy. Eusebius says there was an altar at Athens, on which they poured
no other sacrifice but tears, as if the heathens thought there was no better
way to pacify their angry gods, than by weeping. Jacob wept and 'had power
over the angel' (Hosea 12:4). Tears melt the heart of God. When a
malefactor comes weeping to the bar, this melts the judge's heart towards
him. When a man comes weeping in prayer and smites on his breast, saying,
'God be merciful to me a sinner' (Luke 18:13), this melts God's heart
towards him. Prayer (says Jerome) inclines God to show mercy; tears compel
him. God seals his pardons upon melting hearts. Tears, though they are
silent—yet have a voice, 'The Lord has heard the voice of my weeping!'
(Psalm 6:8). Tears wash away sin. Rain melts and washes away a ball of snow.
Repenting tears wash away sin. That sin, says Ambrose, which cannot be
defended by argument, may be washed away by tears.
4. The sweetness of tears. Mourning is the way
to solid joy. 'The sweetest wine is that which comes out of the winepress of
the eyes', says Chrysostom. The soul is never more enlarged than when it can
weep. Closet tears are better than court music. When the heart is sad,
weeping eases it by giving vent. The soul of a Christian is most eased when
it can vent itself by holy mourning. Chrysostom observes that David who was
the great mourner in Israel—was the sweet singer in Israel.
'My tears were my food' (Psalm 42:3). Ambrose says, 'No food so sweet as
tears.' 'The tears of the penitent,' says Bernard, 'are sweeter than all
worldly joy.' A Christian thinks himself sometimes in the suburbs of heaven,
when he can weep. When Hannah had wept, she went away and was no more sad.
Sugar when it melts is sweetest. When a Christian melts in tears, now he has
the sweetest joy. When the daughter of Pharaoh descended into the river, she
found a babe there among the reeds; so when we descend into the river of
repenting tears, we find the babe Jesus there who shall wipe away all tears
from our eyes. Well therefore might Chrysostom solemnly bless God for giving
us this laver of tears to wash in.
5. A mourner for sin not only does good to himself but to
others. He helps to keep off wrath from a land. As when Abraham
was going to strike the blow, the angel stayed his hand (Genesis 22:12), so
when God is going to destroy a nation, the mourner stays his hand. Tears in
the child's eye sometimes move the angry father to spare the child.
Penitential tears melt God's heart and bind his hand. Jeremiah, who was a
weeping prophet, was a great intercessor. God says to him, 'Pray not for
this people' (Jeremiah 7:16), as if the Lord had said, 'Jeremiah, so
powerful are your prayers and tears, that if you pray I cannot deny you.'
Tears have a mighty influence upon God. Surely God has some mourners in the
land, or he would have destroyed us before now.
6. Holy mourning is preventing remedy. Our
mourning for sin here—will prevent mourning in hell. Hell is a place of
weeping (Matthew 8:12). The damned mingle their drink with weeping. God is
said to hold his bottle for our tears (Psalm 56:8). Those who will not shed
a bottle-full of tears shall hereafter shed rivers of tears. 'Woe to you
that laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep' (Luke 6:25). You have
sometimes seen sugar lying in a damp place dissolve to water. All the
sugared joys of the wicked dissolve at last to the water of tears. Now,
tears will do us good. Now, it is seasonable weeping. It is like a shower in
the spring. If we do not weep now, it will be too late in hell. Could we
hear the language of the damned, they are now cursing themselves that they
did not weep soon enough. Oh is it not better to have our hell here, than
hereafter? Is it not better to shed repenting tears, than despairing tears?
He who weeps here is a blessed mourner. He who weeps in hell is a cursed
mourner. The physician by bleeding the patient prevents death. By the
opening a vein of godly sorrow, we prevent the death of our souls.
7. There is no other way the Gospel prescribes to
blessedness, but mourning. 'Blessed are those who mourn'. This is
the road that leads to the new Jerusalem. There may be several ways leading
to a city; some go one way, some another; but there is but one way to
heaven, and that is by the house of weeping (Acts 26:20). Perhaps a man may
think thus, 'If I cannot mourn for sin, I will get to heaven some other way.
I will go to church; I will give alms; I will lead a civil life.' Nay—but I
tell you there is but one way to blessedness, and that is, through the
valley of tears. If you do not go this way, you will miss of Paradise. 'I
tell you, except you repent, you shall all likewise perish' (Luke 13:3).
There are many lines leading to the center—but the heavenly center has but
one line leading to it, and that is a tear dropping from the eye of faith. A
man may have a disease in his body that twenty medicines will heal. Sin is a
disease of the soul which makes it sick unto death. Now there is but one
medicine will heal, and that is the medicine of repentance.
8. Consider what need every Christian has to be
conversant in holy mourning. A man may take physic when he has no
need of it. Many go to London when they have no need. It is rather out of
curiosity than necessity. But O what need is there for everyone to go into
the weeping bath! Think what a sinner you have been. You have filled God's
book with your debts, and what need you have to fill his bottle with your
tears! You have lived in secret sin. God enjoins you this penance, 'Mourn
for sin'. But perhaps some may say, I have no need of mourning, for I have
lived a very civil life. Go home and mourn because you are only
civil. Many a man's civility, being rested upon—has damned him! It is sad
for men to be without repentance—but it is worse to have no need for
repentance (Luke 15:7).
9. Tears are but finite. It is but a while
that we shall weep. After a few showers that fall from our eyes, we shall
have a perpetual sunshine. In heaven the bottle of tears is stopped. 'God
shall wipe away all tears . . .' (Revelation 7:17). When sin shall cease,
tears shall cease. 'Weeping may endure for a night—but joy comes in the
morning' (Psalm 30:5). In the morning of the ascension, then shall all tears
be wiped away.
10. The benefit of holy mourning. The best of
our commodities come by water. Mourning makes the soul fruitful in grace.
When a shower falls, the herbs and plants grow. 'I will water you with my
tears, O Heshbon!' (Isaiah 16:9). I may allude to it; tears water our
graces and make them flourish. 'He sends his springs into the valleys'
(Psalm 104:10). That is the reason the valleys flourish with corn, because
the springs run there. Where the springs of sorrow run, there the heart
bears a fruitful crop. Leah was tender-eyed; she had a watery eye—and was
fruitful. The tender-eyed Christian usually brings forth more of the fruits
of the Spirit. A weeping eye is the water-pot to water our graces!
Again, mourning fences us against the devil's
temptations. Temptations are called 'fiery darts' (Ephesians 6:16), because
indeed they set the soul on fire. Temptations enrage anger, inflame lust.
Now the waters of holy mourning quench these fiery darts. Wet gunpowder will
not easily take fire. When the heart is wetted and moistened with sorrow, it
will not so easily take the fire of temptation. Tears are the best engines
and waterworks to quench the devil's fire; and if there is so much profit
and benefit in gospel-sorrow, then let every Christian wash his face every
morning in the laver of tears.
11. And lastly, to have a melting frame of spirit is a
great sign of God's presence with us in an ordinance. It is a
sign that the Sun of Righteousness has risen upon us, when our frozen hearts
thaw and melt for sin. It is a saying of Bernard, 'By this you may know
whether you have met with God in a duty—when you find yourselves in a
melting and mourning frame'. We are apt to measure everything, by comfort.
We think we never have God's presence in an ordinance, unless we have joy.
Herein we are like Thomas. 'Unless (says he) I shall see in his hands the
print of the nails, I will not believe' (John 20:25). So are we apt to say
that, unless we have incomes of comfort, we will not believe that we have
found God in a duty; but if our hearts can melt kindly in tears of love,
this is a real sign that God has been with us. As Jacob said, 'Surely the
Lord is in this place, and I knew it not' (Genesis 28:16). So, Christian,
when your heart breaks for sin and dissolves into holy tears, God is in this
duty, though you do not know it.
Methinks all that has been said should make us spiritual
mourners. Perhaps we have tried to mourn and cannot. But as a man who has
dug so many fathoms deep for water and can find none, at last digs until he
finds a spring; so though we have been digging for the water of tears and
can find none—yet let us weigh all that has been said and set our hearts
again to work, and perhaps at last we may say, as Isaac's servants said, 'We
have found water!' (Genesis 26:32). When the herbs are pressed, the watery
juice comes out. These eleven serious motives may press out tears from the
But some may say, My constitution is such that I cannot
weep. I may as well go to squeeze a rock as think to get a tear.
I answer—but if you cannot weep for sin—can you
not grieve? Heart mourning is best. There may be godly sorrow—where
there are no tears. The vessel may be full though it lacks vent. It
is not so much the weeping eye which God respects—as the broken
heart. Yet I would be reluctant to stop their tears of those who can
weep. God stood looking on Hezekiah's tears: 'I have seen your tears'
(Isaiah 38:5). David's tears made music in God's ears. 'The Lord has
heard the voice of my weeping' (Psalm 6:8). It is a sight fit for angels
to behold—tears as pearls dropping from a penitent eye!
What shall we do to get our heart into this mourning
frame? Do two things. Take heed of those things which will stop these
channels of mourning; put yourselves upon the use of all means that will
help forward holy mourning. Take heed of those things which will stop the
current of tears.
Nine HINDRANCES of mourning.
1. The love of sin. The love of sin is like a
stone in the pipe, which stops up the current of water. The love of sin
makes sin taste sweet, and this sweetness in sin bewitches the heart.
It is worse to love sin than to commit it. A man may be
overtaken with sin (Galatians 6:1). He who has stumbled upon sin
unawares will weep—but the love of sin hardens the heart and keeps the devil
in possession. In true mourning there must be a grieving for sin. But
how can a man grieve for that sin which his heart is in love with? Oh, take
heed of this sweet poison! The love of sin freezes the soul in
2. Despair. Despair affronts God, undervalues
Christ's blood and damns the soul! 'But they will say—It's hopeless. We will
continue to follow our plans, and each of us will continue to act according
to the stubbornness of his evil heart' (Jeremiah 18:12). This is the
language of despair. I had as good follow my sins still—and be damned for
something. Despair presents God to the soul as a judge clad in the garments
of vengeance (Isaiah 59:17). The despair of Judas was in some sense worse
than his treason. Despair destroys repentance, for the proper ground of
repentance is mercy. 'The goodness of God leads you to repentance' (Romans
2:4)—but despair hides mercy out of sight—as the cloud covered the Ark. Oh,
take heed of this. Despair is an irrational sin; there is no ground for it.
The Lord shows mercy to thousands. Why may you not be one of a
thousand? The wings of God's mercy, like the wings of the Cherubim, are
stretched out to every humble penitent. Though you have been a great
sinner—yet if you are a weeping sinner—there is a golden scepter of
mercy held forth (Psalm 103:11). Despair locks up the soul in impenitence!
3. A conceit that this mourning will make us melancholy.
'We shall drown all our joy in our tears!' But this is a mistake. Lose our
joy? Tell me, what joy can there be in a condemned condition? What joy does
sin afford? Is not sin compared to a wound and bruise? (Isaiah
1:6). David had his broken bones (Psalm 51:8). Is there any comfort in
having the bones out of joint? Does not sin breed a palpitation and
trembling of heart? (Deuteronomy 28:65, 66). Is it any joy for a man to be a
'terror to himself'? (Jeremiah 20:4). Surely of the sinner's laughter it may
be said, 'It is mad!' (Ecclesiastes 2:2), whereas holy mourning is the
breeder of joy. It does not eclipse joy—but refines our joy
and makes it better. The prodigal dated his joy from the time of his
repentance. 'Then they began to be merry' (Luke 15:24).
4. Checking the motions of the Spirit. The
Spirit sets us a-mourning. He causes all our spring-tides. 'All my springs
are in you' (Psalm 87:7). Oft we meet with gracious motions to prayer and
repentance. Now when we stifle these motions, which is called a quenching
the Spirit (1 Thessalonians 5:19), then we do, as it were, hinder the tide
from coming in. When the dew falls, then the ground is wet. When the Spirit
of God falls as dew in his influences upon the soul, then it is moistened
with sorrow. But if the Spirit withdraws, the soul is like Gideon's dry
fleece. A ship can as well sail without the wind, a bird can as well fly
without wings—as we can mourn without the Spirit! Take heed of grieving the
Spirit. Do not drive away this sweet Dove from the ark of your soul. The
Spirit is 'gentle and tender'. If he is grieved, he may say, 'I will come no
more'—and if he once withdraws, we cannot mourn.
5. Presumption of mercy. Who will take pains
with his heart or mourn for sin—who thinks he may be saved at a cheaper
rate? How many, spider-like, suck damnation out of the sweet flower of God's
mercy? Jesus Christ, who came into the world to save sinners, is the
occasion of many a man's perishing. 'Oh,' says one, 'Christ died for me. He
has done all. What need I pray or mourn?' Many a bold sinner plucks death
from the tree of life, and through presumption, goes to hell by that ladder
of Christ's blood, by which others go to heaven. It is sad when the goodness
of God, which should 'lead to repentance' (Romans 2:4), leads to
presumption. O sinner, do not hope yourself into hell. Take heed of being
damned upon a mistake. You say God is merciful, and therefore you go on
securely in sin. But whom is mercy for? The presuming sinner or the mourning
sinner? 'Let the wicked forsake his way, and return to the Lord, and he will
have mercy upon him' (Isaiah 55:7). No mercy without forsaking sin, and no
forsaking sin without mourning!
If a king should say to a company of rebels, 'Whoever
comes in and submits shall have mercy', such as stood out in rebellion could
not claim the benefit of the pardon. God makes a proclamation of mercy to
the mourner—but such as are not mourners have nothing to do with mercy. The
mercy of God is like the ark, which none but the priests were to meddle
with. None may touch this golden ark of mercy but such as are 'priests unto
God' (Revelation 1:6), and have offered up the sacrifice of tears.
6. A conceit of the smallness of sin. 'Is it
not a little one?' (Genesis 19:20). The devil holds the small end of the
telescope to sinners. To imagine that sin less than it is, is very
dangerous. An opinion of the littleness of sin keeps us from the use of
means. Who will be earnest for a physician, who thinks it is but a trivial
disease? And who will seek to God with a penitent heart for mercy, who
thinks sin is but a slight thing? But to take off this wrong conceit about
sin, and that we may look upon it with watery eyes—consider that sin cannot
be little, because it is against the Majesty of heaven. There is no small
treason, it being against the king's person. Every sin is sinful,
therefore damnable. A penknife or stiletto makes but a little wound—but
either of them may kill as well as a large sword. There is death and hell in
every sin. "The wages of sin is death!" (Romans 6:23). What was it for Adam
to pluck an apple? But that lost him his crown! It is not with sin as it is
with diseases—some are mortal, some not mortal. The least sin without
repentance, will be a lock and bolt to shut men out of heaven.
View sin in the red glass of Christ's sufferings. The
least sin cost his blood. Would you take a true view of sin? Go to Golgotha.
Jesus Christ was fain to veil his glory and lose his joy, and pour out his
soul an offering for the least sin. Read the greatness of your sin in the
deepness of Christ's wounds. Let not Satan cast such a mist before your eyes
that you cannot see sin in its right colors. Remember, not only do great
rivers fall into the sea—but little brooks. Not only do great sins carry men
to hell—but lesser sins as well.
7. Procrastination; or an opinion that it is
too soon as yet to tune the penitential string. "When the lamp is almost
out, the strength exhausted, and old age comes on—then mourning for sin will
be in season—but it is too soon now." That I may show how pernicious this
opinion is, and that I may roll away this stone from the mouth of the well,
that so the waters of repentance may be drawn forth—let me propose these
four serious and weighty considerations:
First, do you know what it is to be in the
state of condemnation? And will you say it is too soon to get out of it? You
are under 'the wrath of God' (John 3:36), and is it too soon to get from
under the dropping of this vial? You are under 'the power of Satan' (Acts
26:18), and is it too soon to get out of the enemy's quarters?
Second, men do not argue thus in other cases.
They do not say, 'It is too soon to be rich.' They will not put off getting
the world until old age. No! here they take the first opportunity. It
is not too soon to be rich—and is it too soon to be saved from sin? Is not
repentance a matter of the greatest consequence? Is it not more needful for
men to lament their sin, than augment their estate?
Third, God's call to mourning is always in the
present. 'Today, if you will hear his voice, harden not your hearts'
(Hebrews 3:7, 8). A general besieging a garrison summons it to surrender
upon such a day—or he will storm it. Such are God's summons to repentance.
'Today if you will hear his voice'. Sinners, when Satan has tempted you to
any wickedness, you have not said, 'It is too soon, Satan'—but have
immediately embraced his temptation. You have not put the devil off—and will
you put God off?
Fourth, it is a foolish thing to adjourn and
put off mourning for sin, for the longer you put off holy mourning—the
harder you will find the work when you come to it! A bone which is
out of joint is easier to set at first—than if you let it go longer. A
disease is sooner cured at first—than if it is let alone until advance
stages come. You may easily wade over the waters when they are low but if
you wait stay until they are risen, then they will be beyond your depth. O
sinner, the more treasons against God you commit—the more do you incense him
against you, and the harder it will be to get your pardon. The longer you
spin out the time of your sinning—the more work you make for repentance!
To adjourn, and put off mourning for sin is folly in
respect of the uncertainty of life. How does the procrastinating
sinner know that he shall live to be old? 'What is your life? It is but a
vapor' (James 4:14). How soon may sickness arrest you, and death
strike off your head! May not your sun set at noon? Oh then what
impudence is it to put off mourning for sin, and to make a long work, when
death is about to make a short work? Caesar, deferring to read the letter
which was sent to him, was stabbed in the senate house.
It is folly to put off all until the last—in respect of
the improbability of finding mercy. Though God has given you space to
repent, he may deny you grace to repent. When God calls for mourning
and you are deaf—when you call for mercy God may be dumb 'I
called you so often, but you didn't come. I reached out to you, but you paid
no attention. You ignored my advice and rejected the correction I offered.
So I will laugh when you are in trouble! I will mock you when
disaster overtakes you— when calamity overcomes you like a storm,
when you are engulfed by trouble, and when anguish and
distress overwhelm you. I will not answer when they cry for help. Even
though they anxiously search for me, they will not find me!' (Proverbs
1:24-28). Think of it seriously. God may take the latter time to judge you
in—because you did not take the former time to repent in.
To put off our solemn turning to God until old age, or
sickness, is high imprudence, because 'death bed repentance' is for the most
part insincere and spurious. Though true mourning for sin be never too
late—yet 'death bed repentance' is seldom true. That repentance is seldom
true-hearted, which is grey-headed. It is disputable whether these
death-tears are not shed more out of fear of hell—than love to
God. The mariner in a storm throws his goods overboard—not that he hates
them—but he is afraid they will sink the ship. When men falls to
weeping-work late and would cast their sins overboard—it is for the most
part, only for fear lest they should sink the ship and drown in hell! It is
a great question whether the sickbed penitent begins to mourn—only
because he can keep his sins no longer. All which considered may make men
take heed of running their souls upon such a desperate hazard, as to put all
their work for heaven, upon the last hour.
8. Delay in the execution of justice. "When
the sentence for a crime is not quickly carried out, the hearts of the
people are filled with schemes to do wrong." (Ecclesiastes 8:11). God
forbears punishing—therefore men forbear repenting. He does
not smite upon their back by correction—therefore they do not smite
upon their thigh by humiliation (Jeremiah 31:19). The sinner thinks
thus: 'God has spared me all this while; he has eked out patience into
longsuffering; surely he will not punish.' 'He says to himself—God has
forgotten; he covers his face and never sees' (Psalm 10:11). In infinite
patience God sometimes adjourns his judgements a while longer. He is not
willing to punish (2 Peter 3:9). God is like the bee, which naturally gives
honey—but stings only when it is provoked. The Lord would have men make
their peace with him (Isaiah 27:5). God is not like a hasty creditor who
requires the payment of the debt, and will give no time for the payment. He
is not only gracious—but 'waits to be gracious' (Isaiah 30:18). But God by
his patience, would bribe sinners to repentance. But, alas, how is his
patience abused! God's longsuffering hardens most. Because God stops
the vial of his wrath, sinners stop the conduit of tears! That
the patience of God may not (through our corruption) obstruct holy mourning,
let sinners remember:
First, God's patience has bounds set to it
(Genesis 6:3). Though men will not set bounds to their sin—yet
God sets bounds to his patience. There is a time when the sun of
God's patience will set, and, being once set—it never returns any degrees
backwards. The lease of patience will soon be run out! There is a time when
God says, 'My Spirit shall no longer strive.' The angel cried, 'The hour of
judgement has come' (Revelation 14:7). Perhaps at the next sin you
commit—God may say, 'Your hour has now come!'
Second, to be hardened under God's patience, makes our
condition far worse. Incensed justice will revenge
abused patience! God was patient towards Sodom—but when they did not
repent, he made the fire and brimstone flame about their ears! Sodom, which
was once the wonder of God's patience—is now a standing monument of
God's severity. All the plants and fruits were destroyed, and, as
Tertullian says—that place still smells of fire and brimstone.
Long forbearance is no forgiveness. God may keep off the stroke
awhile—but justice is not dead—but only sleeps. God has
leaden feet but iron hands. The longer God is taking his blow—the
sorer it will be when it comes. The longer a stone is falling—the heavier it
will be at last. The longer God is whetting his sword—the sharper it cuts.
Sins against God's patience are of a deeper dye; they are worse than the
sins of the devils. The fallen angels never sinned against God's patience.
How dreadful will their condition be—who sin because God is patient with
them. For every crumb of patience, God puts a drop of wrath
into his vial. The longer God forbears with a sinner, the more interest
he is sure to pay in hell.
9. Mirth and music. 'You sing idle songs to
the sound of the harp. You drink wine by the bowlful, and you perfume
yourselves with exotic fragrances.' (Amos 6:5, 6). Instead of the dirge,
they sing idle songs. Many sing away sorrow, and drown their tears in wine.
The sweet waters of pleasure destroy the bitter waters of mourning.
How many go dancing to hell—like those fish which swim pleasantly
down into the Dead Sea!
Let us take heed of all these hindrances to holy
tears. 'Let the harp play sad music, and the flute accompany those who
weep.' (Job 30:31).
Some HELPS to mourning
Having removed the obstructions, let me in propound some
helps to holy mourning.
1. Set SIN continually before you. 'My sin is
ever before me' (Psalm 51:3). David, that he might be a mourner, kept his
eye fully upon sin. See what sin is—and then tell me if there be not enough
in it to draw forth tears! I know not what name, is bad enough to give to
sin. One calls it the devil's excrement. Sin is a combining of all evils. It
is the spirit of evil distilled. Sin dishonors God—it denies God's
omniscience, it derides his patience, it distrusts his faithfulness. Sin
tramples upon God's law, slights his love, grieves his Spirit. Sin wrongs
us; sin shames us. 'Sin is a reproach to any people'
(Proverbs 14:34). Sin has made us naked. It has plucked off our robe—and
taken our crown from us! Sin has spoiled us of our glory. Nay, it has not
only made us naked—but impure. 'I saw you polluted in
your blood' (Ezekiel 16:6). Sin has not only taken off our golden robe—but
it has put upon us 'filthy garments' (Zechariah 3:3).
God made us 'after his likeness' (Genesis 1:26)—but sin
has made us 'like the beasts which perish' (Psalm 49:20). We have all
become brutish in our affections. Nor has sin made us only like the
beasts—but like the devil (John 8:44). Sin has drawn the devil's
picture upon man's heart. Sin stabs us. The sinner, like the jailer, draws a
sword to kill himself (Acts 16:27). He is bereaved of his judgement and,
like the man in the gospel, possessed with the devils, 'he cuts himself with
stones' (Mark 5:5), though he has such a stone in his heart that he does not
feel it. Every sin is a stroke at the soul. So many sins—so many
wounds! Every blow given to the tree, helps forward the felling of the
tree. Every sin is a hewing and chopping down the soul for hellfire! If then
there is all this evil in sin—if this forbidden fruit has such a bitter
core—it should make us mourn. Our hearts should be the spring—and our
eyes the rivers!
2. If we would be mourners, let us be orators.
Beg a spirit of contrition. Pray to God that he will put us in
mourning, that he will give us a melting frame of heart. Let us beg Achsah's
blessing, even 'springs of water' (Joshua 15:19). Let us pray that our
hearts may be spiritual stills—dropping tears into God's bottle. Let us pray
that we who have the poison of the serpent—may have the tears of
the dove. The Spirit of God is a spirit of mourning. Let us pray that
God would pour out that Spirit of grace upon us, whereby we may 'look on him
whom we have pierced and mourn for him' (Zechariah 12:10).
God must breathe in his Spirit—before we can breathe out
our sorrows. The Spirit of God is like the fire in a still—which sends up
the dews of grace in the heart and causes them to drop from the
eyes. It is this blessed Spirit whose gentle breath causes our spices
to smell—and our waters to flow! If the spring of mourning
is once set open in the heart—there can lack no joy. As tears flow
out—comfort flows in! This leads to the second part of the text, 'They shall
The COMFORTS belonging to mourners
Having already presented to your view the dark side of
the text, I shall now show you the bright side, "They shall be
comforted." Where observe:
1. Mourning goes before comfort—as the lancing of a wound
precedes the cure. The Antinomian talks of comfort—but cries down
mourning for sin. He is like a foolish patient who, having a pill prescribed
him, licks the sugar—but throws away the pill. The libertine is all for joy
and comfort. He licks the sugar—but throws away the bitter pill of
repentance. If ever we have true comfort we must have it in God's way and
method. Sorrow for sin ushers in joy: 'I will restore comforts to him, and
to his mourners' (Isaiah 57:18). That is the true sunshine of joy—which
comes after a shower of tears. We may as well expect a crop without
seed—as comfort without gospel-mourning.
2. Observe that God keeps his best wine until last.
First he prescribes mourning for sin—and then sets open the wine
of consolation. The devil does quite contrary. He shows the best
first—and keeps the worst until last. First, he shows the wine sparkling in
the glass—then comes the 'biting of the serpent' (Proverbs 23:32). Satan
sets his dainty dishes before men. He presents sin to them colored with
beauty, sweetened with pleasure, silvered with profit—and
then afterwards the sad reckoning is brought in! He showed Judas first the
silver bait—and then stuck him with the hook! This is the reason why sin has
so many followers, because it shows the best first. First, the golden
crowns—then comes the lions' teeth! (Revelation 9:7, 8).
But God shows the worst first. First he prescribes a
bitter portion— and then brings a cordial, 'They shall be comforted.'
3. Observe, gospel tears are not lost. They
are seeds of comfort. While the penitent pours out tears, God pours in joy.
'If you would be cheerful' (says Chrysostom), 'mourn.' 'Those who sow in
tears—shall reap in joy' (Psalm 126:5). It was the end of Christ's anointing
and coming into the world—that he might comfort those who mourn (Isaiah
61:3). Christ had the oil of gladness poured on him (as Chrysostom says)
that he might pour it upon the mourner. Well then, may the apostle call it
'a repentance not to be repented of' (2 Corinthians 7:10). A man's
drunkenness is to be repented of; his uncleanness is to be
repented of; but his repentance is never to be repented of, because
it is the inlet to joy. 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be
comforted.' Here is sweet fruit from a bitter stock. Christ
caused the earthen vessels to be filled to the brim with water, and then
turned the water into wine (John 2:9). So when the eye, that earthen vessel,
has been filled with water to the brim, then Christ will turn the water
of tears into the wine of joy. 'Holy mourning,' says Basil, 'is
the seed out of which the flower of eternal joy grows.'
The REASONS why the mourner shall be comforted.
 Because mourning is made on purpose for this end.
Mourning is not prescribed for itself but that it may lead on to something
else—that it may lay a train for comfort. Therefore we sow in tears—that we
may reap in joy. Holy mourning is a spiritual medicine. Now a medicine is
not prescribed for itself—but for the sake of health. So gospel-mourning is
appointed for this very end—to bring forth joy.
 The spiritual mourner is the fittest person for
comfort. When the heart is broken for sin—now it is fittest for
joy. God pours the golden oil of comfort—into broken vessels. The mourner's
heart is emptied of pride—and God fills the empty with his blessing. The
mourner's tears have helped to purge out corruption—and then God gives a
cordial. The mourner is ready to faint away under the burden of sin—and then
the refreshing cordial comes seasonably. The Lord would have the incestuous
person (upon his deep humiliation) to be comforted, lest 'he should be
swallowed up with overmuch sorrow' (2 Corinthians 2:7).
This is the mourner's privilege: 'He shall be comforted'.
The valley of tears brings the soul into a paradise of joy. A
sinner's joy brings forth sorrow. The mourner's sorrow brings
forth joy. 'Your sorrow shall be turned into joy' (John 16:20). The saints
have a sorrowful seedtime—but a joyful harvest. 'They shall be comforted'.
Now to illustrate this, I shall show you what the
comforts are, that the mourners shall have. These comforts are of a divine
infusion, and they are twofold, either here or hereafter.
They are called 'the consolations of God' (Job
15:11); that is, 'great comforts', such as none but God can give. They
exceed all other comforts as far as heaven exceeds earth. The root on which
these comforts grow is the blessed Spirit. He is called 'the Comforter'
(John 14:26), and comfort is said to be a 'fruit of the Spirit' (Galatians
5:22). Christ purchased peace, and the Spirit speaks peace.
How does the Spirit comfort? Either mediately
 The Spirit comforts mediately, by helping
us to apply the promises to ourselves and draw water out of those 'wells of
salvation'. We lie as dead children at the breast—until the Spirit helps us
to suck the breast of a promise; and when the Spirit has taught faith this
art, now comfort flows in. O how sweet is the breast-milk of a promise!
 The Spirit comforts immediately. The
Spirit by a more direct act presents God to the soul as reconciled. He
'sheds his love abroad in the heart', from whence flows infinite joy (Romans
5:5). The Spirit secretly whispers pardon for sin—and the sight of a
pardon dilates the heart with joy. 'Be of good cheer—your sins are forgiven'
That I may speak more fully to this point, I shall show
you the nature and excellencies of these comforts
which God gives his mourners. These comforts are real
comforts. The Spirit of God cannot witness to that which is untrue. There
are many in this age who pretend to comfort—but their comforts are mere
impostures. A man may as well be swelled with false, as true comforts. The
comforts of the saints are certain. They have the seal of the Spirit
set to them (2 Corinthians 1:22; Ephesians 1:13). A seal is for
confirmation. When a deed is sealed, it is firm and unquestionable. When a
Christian has the seal of the Spirit stamped upon his heart—now he is
confirmed in the love of God.
Wherein do these comforts of the Spirit which are
unquestionably sure, differ from those which are false and pretended? Three
First, the comforts of God's Spirit are laid in deep
conviction: 'And when he (that is, the Comforter) has come, he shall convict
the world of sin' (John 16:7, 8).
Why does conviction go before consolation?
Conviction of sin, fits for comfort. By conviction of sin, the Spirit
sweetly disposes the heart to seek after Christ and then to receive Christ.
Once the soul is convinced of sin and of the hell which follows sin—a Savior
is precious. When the Spirit has shot in the arrow of conviction, 'now,'
says a poor soul, 'Where may I meet with Christ? How may I come to enjoy
Christ?' 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves? All the world for one
glimpse of my Savior!'
Again, the Spirit by conviction makes the heart willing
to receive Christ upon his own terms. Man, by nature, would bargain
with Christ. He would take half Christ. He would take him for a
Savior to save him from his sin—but not as a King to rule over
him. He would accept of Christ as he has 'a head of gold' (Canticles
5:11)—but not as he has 'the government upon his shoulder' (Isaiah 9:6). But
when God lets loose the spirit of bondage and convinces a sinner of his
lost, undone condition—now he is content to have Christ upon any
terms. When Paul was struck down to the ground by a spirit of conviction, he
cries out, 'Lord, what will you have me to do?' (Acts 9:6). Let God propound
whatever articles he will—the soul will subscribe to them. Now, when a man
is brought to Christ's terms, to believe and obey, then he is fit for mercy.
When the Spirit of God has been a spirit of conviction of sin, then
He becomes a spirit of consolation. When the plough of the law has
gone upon the heart and broken up the fallow ground—then God sows the seed
of comfort. Those who brag of comfort—but were never truly convicted, nor
broken, for sin—have cause to suspect their comfort to be a delusion of
Satan. It is like a madman's joy, who thinks himself to be a king—but it may
be said of 'his laughter, it is mad' (Ecclesiastes 2:2). The seed which
lacked 'depth of earth' withered (Matthew 13:5). That comfort which lacks
'depth of earth', deep humiliation and conviction, will soon wither and come
The Spirit of God is a sanctifying, before a
comforting Spirit. As God's Spirit is called the 'Comforter', so he is
called 'a Spirit of grace' (Zechariah 12:10). Grace is the work of the
Spirit. Comfort is the seal of the Spirit. The work of the Spirit goes
before the seal. The graces of the Spirit are compared to water (Isaiah
44:3) and to oil (Isaiah 61:3). First, God pours in the water of the Spirit
and then comes the oil of gladness. The oil (in this sense) runs above the
water. Hereby we shall know whether our comforts are true and genuine. Some
talk of the comforting Spirit, who never had the sanctifying
Spirit. They boast of assurance—but never had grace. These are spurious
joys. These comforts will leave men at death. They will end in horror and
despair. God's Spirit will never set seal to a blank. First, the
heart must be an epistle written with the finger of the Holy Spirit—and then
it is 'sealed with the Spirit of promise'.
First, the comforts of the Spirit are HUMBLING.
'Lord,' says the soul, 'what am I that I should have a smile
from heaven, and that you should give me a privy seal of your love?' The
more water is poured into a bucket—the lower it descends. The fuller the
ship is laden with sweet spices—the lower it sails. The more a Christian is
filled with the sweet comforts of the Spirit—the lower he sails in humility.
The fuller a tree is of fruit—the lower the bough hangs. The more full we
are of 'the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy and peace' (Galatians 5:22), the
more we bend in humility. Paul, a 'chosen vessel' (Acts 9:15), filled with
the wine of the Spirit (2 Corinthians 1:5), did not more abound in joy, than
in lowliness of mind. 'Unto me who am less than the least of all saints, is
this grace given . . ', (Ephesians 3:8). He who was the chief of the
apostles calls himself the least of the saints.
Those who say they have comfort—but are proud; who have
learned to despise others—their comforts are delusions. The devil is able,
not only to 'transform himself into an angel of light' (2 Corinthians
11:14)—but he can transform himself into the comforter. It is easy to
counterfeit money, to silver over brass and put the king's image upon it.
The devil can silver over false comforts and make them look as if they had
the stamp of the King of heaven upon them. The comforts of God are humbling.
Though they lift the heart up in thankfulness—yet they do not puff it
up in pride.
Second, the comforts God gives his mourners are UNMIXED.
They are not tempered with any bitter ingredients. Worldly comforts
are like wine that is mixed with dregs. 'In the midst of laughter the heart
is sad' (Proverbs 14:13). If the breast of a sinner were anatomized and
opened—you would find a worm gnawing at his heart. Guilt is a wolf which
feeds in the breast of his comfort. A sinner may have a smiling
countenance—but a chiding conscience. His mirth is like the mirth of a man
in debt, who is every hour in fear of arrest. The comforts of wicked men are
spiced with bitterness. They are worm-wood wine.
'These are the men who tremble, and grow pale at every
lightning flash, and when it thunders are half-dead with terror at the very
first rumbling of the heavens.'
But spiritual comforts are pure. They are not muddied
with guilt, nor mixed with fear. They are the pure wine of the Spirit. What
the mourner feels is joy, and nothing but joy.
Third, the comforts God gives his mourners are SWEET.
'Truly the light is sweet' (Ecclesiastes 11:7); so is the light of
God's countenance. How sweet are those comforts which bring the Comforter
along with them! (John 14:10). Therefore the love of God shed into the
heart, is said to be 'better than wine' (Canticles 1:2). Wine pleases the
palate—but the love of God cheers the conscience. The lips, of Christ 'drop
sweet-smelling myrrh' (Canticles 5:13). The comforts which God gives, are a
Christian's music. They are the golden pot of manna, the nectar and ambrosia
of a Christian. They are the saints' festival, their banqueting delicacies.
So sweet are these divine comforts, that the church had
her fainting fits, for lack of them. 'Stay me with flagons' (Canticles 2:5).
By these flagons, are meant the comforts of the Spirit. The Hebrew word
signifies 'all variety of delights' to show the abundance of delectability
and sweetness in these comforts of the Spirit. 'Comfort me with apples.'
Apples are sweet in taste, fragrant in smell. Just so, sweet and delicious
are those apples which grow upon the tree in paradise. These comforts from
above are so sweet that they make all other comforts sweet; health, estate,
relations. They are like sauce which makes all our earthly possessions and
enjoyments come off with a bitter relish. So sweet are these comforts of the
Spirit, that they much abate and moderate our joy in worldly things. He who
has been drinking choice wine, will not much desire water; and that man who
has once 'tasted how sweet the Lord is' (Psalm 34:8), and has drunk the
cordials of the Spirit, will not thirst immoderately after carnal delights.
Those who play with dogs and birds—it is a sign they have no
children. Just so, such as are inordinate in their desire and love of the
creature, declare plainly that they never had better comforts.
Fourth, these comforts which God gives his mourners are
HOLY comforts. They are called 'the comfort of the Holy Spirit'
(Acts 9:31). Everything propagates in its own kind. The Holy Spirit can no
more produce impure joys in the soul, than the sun can produce
darkness. He who has the comforts of the Spirit looks upon himself as a
person engaged to do God more service. Has the Lord looked upon me with a
smiling face? I can never pray enough. I can never love God enough. The
comforts of the Spirit raise in the heart a holy antipathy against sin.
The dove hates every feather from the hawk. Just so, there is
a hatred of every motion and temptation to evil. He who has a principle of
life in him, opposes everything that would destroy life—he hates poison. So
he who has the comforts of the Spirit living in him, sets himself against
those sins which would murder his comforts. Divine comforts give the soul
more acquaintance with God. 'Our fellowship is with the Father and with his
Son, Jesus.' (1 John 1:3).
Fifth, the comforts reserved for the mourners are FILLING
comforts. 'The God of hope fill you with all joy . . .' (Romans
15:13). 'Ask . . . that your joy may be full' (John 16:24). When God pours
in the joys of heaven, they fill the heart and make it run over. 'I am
exceeding joyful . . .' (2 Corinthians 7:4). The Greek word is 'I overflow
with joy', as a cup that is filled with wine until it runs over. Outward
comforts can no more fill the heart—than a triangle can fill a circle.
Spiritual joys are satisfying. 'My soul shall be satisfied as with
marrow, and I will praise you with joyful lips' (Psalm 63:5). David's heart
was full, and the joy broke out at his lips. 'You have put gladness in my
heart' (Psalm 4:7). Worldly joys put gladness into the face: 'They
rejoice in the face' (2 Corinthians 5:12). But the Spirit of God puts
gladness into the heart. Divine joys are heart joys (Zechariah
10:7). 'Your heart shall rejoice' (John 16:22). A believer rejoices
in God: 'My Spirit rejoices in God . . .' (Luke 1:47).
And to show how filling these comforts are which are of a
heavenly extraction, the Psalmist says they create greater joy than when
'their wine and oil increase' (Psalm 4:7). Wine and oil may delight—but they
cannot satisfy; they have their emptiness and indigence. We may say as
Zechariah 10:2, 'They comfort in vain.' Outward comforts sooner cloy
than cheer—and sooner weary than fill. Xerxes offered
great rewards to him who could find out a new pleasure—but the comforts of
the Spirit are satisfactory. They refresh the heart. 'Your comforts delight
my soul' (Psalm 94:19). There is as much difference between heavenly
comforts and earthly comforts—as between a banquet which is eaten, and one
which is painted on the wall.
Sixth, the comforts God gives his mourners in this life
are GLORIOUS comforts. 'Joy full of glory' (1 Peter 1:8). They
are glorious because they are a foretaste of that joy which we shall have in
a glorified estate. These comforts are a pledge of glory. They put us in
heaven before our time. 'You were sealed with the Holy Spirit, which is the
pledge of the inheritance' (Ephesians 1:13, 14). So the comforts of the
Spirit are the pledge, the 'cluster of grapes' at Eshcol (Numbers 13:23),
the first-fruits of the heavenly Canaan. The joys of the Spirit are
glorious, in opposition to other joys, which compared with these, are
inglorious and vile. A carnal man's joy, as it is airy and flashy, so it is
sordid. He sucks nothing but dregs. 'You rejoice in a thing of nothing'
(Amos 6:13). A carnal spirit rejoices because he can say that this house is
his, or that this estate is his. But a gracious spirit rejoices because he
can say that this God is his: 'For this God is our God forever and ever'
(Psalm 48:14). The ground of a Christian's joy is glorious. He rejoices in
that he is an heir of the promise. The joy of a godly man is made up of that
which is the angels' joy. He triumphs in the light of God's
countenance. His joy is that which is Christ's own joy. He rejoices in the
mystical union which is begun here and consummated in heaven. Thus the joy
of the saints is a joy 'full of glory'.
Seventh, the comforts which God gives his mourners are
infinitely transporting and RAVISHING. So delightful are they and
amazing, that they cause a jubilation which is so great, that it cannot be
expressed. Of all things joy is the most hard to be deciphered. It is called
'joy unspeakable' (1 Peter 1:8). You cannot tell how sweet honey is, without
actually tasting it. The most elevated words can no more set forth the
comforts of the Spirit, than the a pencil can draw the life and breath of a
man. The angels cannot express the joys they feel. Some men have been so
overwhelmed with the sweet raptures of joy, that they have not been able to
contain—but as Moses, have died with a kiss from God's mouth. Thus have we
seen the glass oft breaking with the strength of the liquor put into it.
Eighth, these comforts of the Spirit are POWERFUL.
They are strong cordials, strong consolation, as the apostle phrases
it (Hebrews 6:18). Divine comfort strengthens for duty. 'The joy of the Lord
is your strength' (Nehemiah 8:10). Joy whets and sharpens industry. A man
who is steeled and animated with the comfort of God's Spirit, goes with
vigor and alacrity through the exercises of piety. He believes firmly, he
loves fervently, he is carried full sail in duty. 'The joy of the Lord is
his strength'. Divine comfort supports under affliction: 'Having received
the Word in much affliction, with joy' (1 Thessalonians 1:6). The wine of
the Spirit can sweeten 'the waters of Marah'. Those who are possessed of
these heavenly comforts can 'gather grapes from thorns', and fetch honey out
of the 'lion's carcass'. They are 'strong consolations' indeed, which can
endure the 'fiery trial', and turn the flame into a bed of roses. How
powerful is that comfort which can make a Christian glory in tribulations
(Romans 5:3)! A believer is never so sad, but he can rejoice. The bird of
paradise can sing in the winter. 'As sorrowing—yet always rejoicing' (2
Corinthians 6:10). Let sickness come, the sense of pardon takes away the
sense of pain. 'The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick' (Isaiah 33:24).
Let death come, the Christian is above it. 'O death, where is your sting?'
(1 Corinthians 15:55). At the end of the rod, a Christian tastes honey.
These are 'strong consolations'.
Ninth, the comforts God's mourners have are
HEART-QUIETING comforts. They cause a sweet acquiescence and rest
in the soul. The heart of a Christian is in a state of discomposure, like
the needle in the compass; it shakes and trembles—until the Comforter comes.
Some creatures cannot live but in the sun. A Christian is discomposed,
unless he has the sunlight of God's countenance. 'Hide not your face from
me, lest I be like those who go down into the pit' (Psalm 143:7). Nothing
but the breast will quiet the child. It is only the breast of
consolation, which quiets the believer.
Tenth, the comforts of the Spirit are ABIDING comforts.
As they abound in us so they abide with us. 'He shall give you
another Comforter that he may abide with you forever' (John 14:16).
Worldly comforts are always upon the wing, ready to fly. They are like a
flash of lightning. 'They will oftentimes pass away and glide from your
closest embrace'. All things here are transient—but the comforts with which
God feeds his mourners are immortal: 'Who has loved us and given us
everlasting consolation' (2 Thessalonians 2:16). Though a Christian does
not always have a full beam of comfort—yet he has a dawning of it in his
soul. He always has a ground of hope and a root of joy. There is that within
him, which bears up his heart, and which he would not on any terms part
Behold, then, the mourner's privilege, 'He shall be
comforted'. David who was the great mourner of Israel, was the 'sweet singer
of Israel'. The weeping dove shall be covered with the golden feathers of
comfort. O how rare and superlative are these comforts!
But the question may be asked, 'May not God's mourners
lack these comforts?' Spiritual mourners have a title to these
comforts—yet they may sometimes lack them. God is a sovereign agent. He will
have the timing of our comforts. He has a self-freedom to do what he will.
The Holy One of Israel will not be limited. He reserves his prerogative to
give or suspend comfort—as he will; and if we are a while without comfort,
we must not quarrel with his dispensations, for as the mariner is not to
wrangle with providence because the wind blows out of the east when he
desires it to blow out of the west; nor is the farmer to murmur when God
stops the bottles of heaven in time of drought; so neither is any man to
dispute or quarrel with God, when he stops the sweet influence of
comfort—but he ought rather to acquiesce in his sacred will.
But though the Lord might by virtue of his sovereignty
withhold comfort from the mourner—yet there may be many pregnant causes
assigned why mourners lack comfort in regard of God and also in regard of
1. Why mourners lack comfort—in regard of GOD.
He sees it fit to withhold comfort that he may raise the value of grace. We
are apt to esteem comfort above grace, therefore God locks up our comforts
for a time, that he may enhance the price of grace. When farthings go better
than gold the king will call in farthings, that the price of gold may be the
more raised. God would have his people serve him for himself—and not for
comfort alone. It is a harlot love to love the husband's money and
gifts, more than his person. Such as serve God only for comfort, do not
so much serve God, as serve themselves with God.
2. That God's mourners lack comfort, it is most frequency
in regard of THEMSELVES.
 Through mistake, which is twofold. They do
not go to the right spring for comfort. They go to their tears, when they
should go to Christ's blood. It is a kind of idolatry to make our tears the
ground of our comfort. Mourning is not meritorious. It is the way to
joy, not the cause. Jacob got the blessing in the garments of his
elder brother. True comfort flows out of Christ's pierced side. Our tears
are stained, until they are washed in the blood of Christ. 'In me you will
have peace' (John 16:33).
The second mistake is that mourners are privileged
people, and may take more liberty to slacken or sin. They may slacken the
strings of duty, and let loose the reins to sin. Christ has indeed purchased
a liberty for his people—but a holy liberty, not a liberty for sin—but from
sin. 'But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a
people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called
you out of darkness into his wonderful light' (1 Peter 2:9). You are not in
a state of slavery—but royalty. What follows? Do not make Christian liberty
a cloak for sin. 'As free, and not using your liberty for a cover-up
for evil' (16). If we quench the sanctifying Spirit, God will quench
the comforting Spirit. Sin is compared to a 'cloud' (Isaiah 44:22).
This cloud intercepts the light of God's countenance.
 God's mourners sometimes lack comfort through
discontent and peevishness. David makes his disquiet the cause of
his sadness. 'Why are you cast down, O my soul? Why are you disquieted
within me?' (Psalm 43:5). A disquieted heart, like a rough sea, is not
easily calmed. It is hard to make a troubled spirit receive comfort. This
disquiet arises from various causes: sometimes from outward sorrow and
melancholy, sometimes from a kind of envy. God's people are troubled to see
others have comfort, and they lack it; and now in a peeve, they refuse
comfort, and like a froward child, put away the breast. 'My soul refused to
be comforted' (Psalm 77:2). Indeed a disquieted spirit is no more fit for
comfort, than a madman is fit for counsel. And whence is the mourner's
discontent—but pride? As if God had not dealt well with him in stopping the
influences of comfort. O Christian, your spirit must be more humbled and
broken, before God empty out his golden oil of joy.
 The mourner is without comfort for lack of applying
the promises. He looks at sin, which may humble him—but not at
that Word, which may comfort him. The mourner's eyes are so full of tears
that he cannot see the promise. The virtue and comfort of a medicine is in
the applying. When the promises are applied by faith, they bring
comfort (Hosea 2:19; Isaiah 49:15, 16). Faith milks the breast of a
promise. That Satan may hinder us of comfort; it is his policy either to
keep the promise from us that we may not know it, or to keep us from the
promise that we may not apply it. All the promises in the Bible belong to
the mourner—had he but the skill and dexterity of faith to lay hold on it.
 The mourner may lack comfort through too much
earthly-mindedness. By feeding immoderately on earthly
comforts—we miss of heavenly comforts. 'For the iniquity of his covetousness
was I angry, and I hid myself' (Isaiah 57:17). The earth puts out the fire.
Earthiness extinguishes the flame of divine joy in the soul. An eclipse
occurs when the moon, which is a dense body, comes between the sun and the
earth. The moon is an emblem of the world (Revelation 12:1). When this comes
between, then there is an eclipse in the light of God's face. Such as dig in
mines say there is such a damp comes from the earth as puts out the light of
a candle. Earthly comforts send forth such a damp as puts out the light of
 Perhaps the mourner has had comfort and lost it.
Adam's rib was taken from him, when he was asleep (Genesis 2:21). Our
comforts are taken away, when we fall asleep in security. The spouse lost
her beloved when she lay upon the bed of sloth (Canticles 5:2, 6).
For these reasons God's mourners may lack comfort—but
that the spiritual mourner may not be too much dejected, I shall reach forth
'the cup of consolation' (Jeremiah 16:7), and speak a few words that may
comfort the mourner in the lack of comfort.
Jesus Christ was without comfort, therefore no wonder if
we are. Our comforts are not better than his. He who was the Son of God's
love, was without the sense of God's love. The mourner has a seed of
comfort: 'Light is sown for the righteous' (Psalm 97:11). Light is a
metaphor put for comfort, and it is sown. Though a child of God does not
have comfort always in the flower—yet he has it in the seed. Though he does
not feel comfort from God, yet he takes comfort in God. A
Christian may be high in grace—and low in comfort. The high mountains are
without flowers. The mines of gold have no corn growing on them. A
Christian's heart may be a rich mine of grace, though it is barren of
comfort. The mourner is heir to comfort, and though for a small moment God
may forsake his people (Isaiah 54:7)—yet there is a time shortly coming,
when the mourner shall have all tears wiped away, and shall be brim full of
comfort. This joy is reserved for heaven, and this brings me to the second
'They shall be comforted'. Though in this life
some interviews and love tokens pass between God and the mourner—yet the
great comforts are kept in sore for heaven. 'In God's presence is fullness
of joy' (Psalm 16:11). There is a time coming (the daystar is ready to
appear) when the saints shall bathe themselves in the river of life, when
they shall never more see a wrinkle on God's brow—but his face shall shine,
his lips drop honey, his arms sweetly embrace them! The saints shall have a
spring-tide of joy, and it shall never be low water. The saints shall at
that day put off their mourning, and exchange their sables for white robes.
Then shall the winter be past, the rain of tears be over and gone (Canticles
2:11, 12). The flowers of joy shall appear, and after the weeping of the
dove—'the time of the singing of birds shall come'. This is the 'great
consolation', the Jubilee of the blessed which shall never expire. In this
life the people of God taste of joy—but in heaven their vessels shall always
overflow. There is a river in the midst of the heavenly paradise
which has a fountain to feed it (Psalm 36:8, 9).
The times we are cast into, being for the present sad and
cloudy, it will not be amiss for the reviving the hearts of God's people, to
speak a little of these comforts which God reserves in heaven for his
mourners. 'They shall be comforted'.
The greatness of these celestial comforts is most fitly
in Scripture expressed by the joy of a feast. Mourning shall be
turned into feasting, and it shall be a marriage-feast, which is usually
kept with the greatest solemnity. 'Blessed are those who are called
unto the marriage-supper of the Lamb' (Revelation 19:9). Some understand
this supper of the Lamb, to be meant of the saints' supping with Christ in
heaven. Men after hard labor, go to supper. So when the saints shall 'rest
from their labors' (Revelation 14:13), they shall sup with Christ in glory.
Now to speak something of the last great supper.
 It will be a great supper in regard of the FOUNDER of
this feast—God. It is the supper of a king, therefore sumptuous
and magnificent. 'The Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods'
(Psalm 95:3). Where should there be grandeur and magnificence, but in a
 It will be a great supper in regard of the cheer and
PROVISION. This exceeds all hyperboles. What blessed fruit does
the tree of life in paradise yield! (Revelation 2:7). Christ will lead his
spouse into the 'banqueting house' and feast her with those rare viands, and
cause her to drink that spiced wine, that heavenly nectar and ambrosia with
which the angelic powers are infinitely refreshed.
First, every dish served in at this heavenly supper shall
be sweet to our palate. There is no dish here we do not love. Christ will
make such 'savory meat' as he is sure his spouse loves.
Second, there shall be no lack here. There is no lack at
a feast. The multifaceted fullness in Christ will prevent a scarcity, and it
will be a fullness without surfeit, because a fresh course will continually
be served in.
Third, those who eat of this supper shall 'hunger no
more'. Hunger is a sharp sauce. The 'Lamb's supper' shall not only satisfy
hunger—but prevent it. 'They shall hunger no more!' (Revelation 7:16).
 It will be a great supper in regard of the COMPANY
invited. Company adds to a feast, and is of itself sauce to whet
the appetite. Saints, angels, archangels will be at this supper. Nay, Christ
himself will be both Founder and Guest. The Scripture calls it 'an
innumerable company . . .' (Hebrews 12:22); and that which makes the society
sweeter, is that there shall be perfect love at this feast. The motto shall
be 'one heart and one way'. All the guests shall be linked together with the
golden chain of love.
 It will be a great supper in regard of the HOLY
MIRTH. 'A feast is made for mirth' (Ecclesiastes 10:19). At this
supper there shall be joy, and nothing but joy (Psalm 16:11). There is no
weeping at this feast. O what triumph and acclamations will there be! There
are two things at this 'supper of the Lamb, which will create joy and mirth.
First, when the saints shall think with themselves, that they are kept from
a worse supper. The devils have a supper (such an one as it is), a black
banquet. There are two dishes served in—weeping and gnashing of teeth. Every
bit they eat makes their hearts ache. Who would envy them their feasts here
on earth—who must have such a dismal supper in hell? Second, it will be a
matter of joy at the 'supper of the Lamb', that the Master of the feast bids
all his guests welcome. The saints shall have the smiles of God's face, the
kisses of his lips. He will lead them into the wine cellar, and display the
banner of love over them. The saints shall be as full of solace as sanctity.
What is a feast without mirth? Worldly mirth is flashy and empty. This will
be infinitely delightful and ravishing.
 It will be a great supper for the MUSIC.
This will be a marriage supper, and what better music than the Bridegroom's
voice, saying, 'My spouse, my undefiled, take your fill of love!' There will
be the angels' anthems, the saints' triumphs. The angels, those trumpeters
of heaven, shall sound forth the excellencies of Jehovah, and the saints,
those noble choristers, shall take 'down their harps from the willows', and
join in consort with the angels, praising and blessing God. 'I saw before me
what seemed to be a crystal sea mixed with fire. And on it stood all the
people who had been victorious over the beast and his statue and the number
representing his name. They were all holding harps that God had given them.
And they were singing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of
the Lamb—Great and marvelous are your actions, Lord God Almighty. Just and
true are your ways, O King of the nations!' (Revelation 15:2, 3). O the
sweet harmony at this feast! It shall be music without discord.
6] This supper is great in regard of the PLACE where it
shall be celebrated, in the 'paradise of God' (Revelation 2:7).
It is a stately palace. It is stately for its situation. It is of a
very great height (Revelation 21:10). It is stately for its prospect.
All sparkling beauties are centered there, and the delight of the prospect
is personal possession! That is the best prospect, where a man cannot see to
the furthest end of his own ground. This royal feast shall be kept in
a most spacious room, a room infinitely greater than the whole firmament.
Though there is such a multitude as no man can number, 'of all nations,
kindred, people and tongues' (Revelation 7:9)—yet the table is long
enough and the room spacious enough, for all the guests. One of the
things which are requisite to a feast, is a fit place. The empyrean
heaven bespangled with light, arrayed with rich hangings, embroidered with
glory, seated above all the visible orbs, is the place of the
marriage-supper. This infinitely transcends the most profound search. I am
no more able to express it, than I can span the firmament, or weigh the
earth in a scale.
 It will be a great supper in regard of its
CONTINUANCE. It has no end. Epicures have a short feast—and a
long reckoning. But those who shall sit down at the heavenly banquet—shall
never rise from the table. The provisions shall never be taken away—but they
shall always be feeding upon those sweets and delicacies which are set
before them. We read that King Ahasuerus made a feast for his princes which
lasted 'a hundred and eighty days' (Esther 1:4). But this blessed feast
reserved for the saints—is 'forever'. 'At your right hand there are
pleasures for evermore' (Psalm 16:11).
For your consolation, consider how this may be as divine
cordial to keep the hearts of God's people from fainting! 'They shall be
comforted'. They shall sit with Christ 'upon the throne' (Revelation 3:21),
and sit down with him 'at the table'. Who would not mourn for sin—that are
sure to meet with such rewards! 'They shall be comforted!' The
marriage-supper will make amends for 'the valley of tears!' O saint of
God, you who are now weeping bitterly for sin, at this last and great feast
your 'water shall be turned into wine'. You who now mortify your
corruptions, and 'beat down your body' by prayer and fasting—shall shortly
sup with Christ and angels! You who refused to touch the forbidden
tree—shall feed upon 'the tree of life in the paradise of God!' You
impoverished saint, who have scarce a bit of bread to eat, remember for your
comfort, 'in your father's house there is bread enough', and he is making
ready a feast for you, where all the dainties of heaven are served! O feed
with delight upon the thoughts of this marriage-supper! After your
funeral, begins your festival! Long for the Lamb's supper! Christ
himself, has paid for this supper upon the cross! 'Therefore comfort one
another with these words!'