When Life's Not Working - 7 Simple Choices Order Printed Copy
- Author: Bob Merritt
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About the Book
"When Life's Not Working - 7 Simple Choices" by Bob Merritt offers practical advice and guidance for finding hope and peace in times of difficulty. The author presents seven key choices that can help individuals navigate through challenges and improve their overall well-being. Through real-life stories, biblical teachings, and personal reflections, Merritt inspires readers to make positive changes and take control of their lives. Ultimately, the book encourages readers to trust in God's plan and embrace a more fulfilling and purposeful life.
Charles Spurgeon
Charles Haddon Spurgeon was born on June 19, 1834, just ten days after the great William Carey died in India. Because of economic conditions the young Spurgeon was sent to live with his grandparents at the age of 18 months. His grandfather, James Spurgeon, ministered to the church at Stambourne for 54 years. Those few years with his grandparents made a profound impact on the young man’s life.
Spurgeon was always a bit of an enigma intellectually. He could appear to be unlearned when in reality he had a great intellect. An incident from his early school days is a good example of this. When he was around the age of ten, young Charles’ grades unexplainably began to drop. It seemed the more winter deepened, so did his scores. The teacher at first was baffled by this plummet in performance until he realized that the upper grader students' seats were near a drafty door where cold wind seeped in continually. When the teacher reversed the seating order so the higher grade seats were away from the cold draft, Spurgeon’s grades rose accordingly.1
Like many young people of his day, Charles struggled over his relationship with God for a number of years. It was common in those days for children to be encouraged to seek after God with their whole heart. There was no such quickness to get people "to make a decision" as we see in many of our churches today. Just as John Bunyan struggled against God, Spurgeon remembered how he fought against the idea of giving into Christ’s Lordship:
"I must confess that I never would have been saved if I could have helped it. As long as ever I could, I rebelled, and revolted, and struggled against God. When He would have me to pray, I would not pray … And when I heard, and the tear rolled down my cheek, I wiped it away and defied Him to melt my soul. But long before I began with Christ, He began with me."2
After some time of alternately searching and running, the God who had already begun with a 16 year old boy led Charles to an encounter which he never forgot. For some time the Holy Spirit had been dealing with the young man’s soul. Spurgeon said that "God was plowing his soul, ten black horses in his team — the ten commandments — and cross plowing it with the message of the Gospel, for when he heard it, no comfort came to his soul."3 With all of his Biblical upbringing and praying, Charles was still lost in the darkness of his own heart.
The incident that follows has been repeated so often in so many sources that it needs no documenting. One Sunday morning the snow was falling so hard that Charles could not get to his own church so he wandered into a Primitive Methodist Chapel. Doctrinally this little fellowship was world’s apart from the Congregationalist heritage of the Spurgeons. Yet into this little congregation of less than 15 people Spurgeon wandered that cold winter morning. As he entered an unlearned and unnamed itinerant preacher proclaimed the text, "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." During that message, the preacher looked directly at the young stranger in their midst and said, "Young man, you look very miserable … You always will be miserable in life and in death if you don’t obey my text, but if you obey now, this moment you will be saved." Spurgeon later wrote, "Between half past ten, when I entered that chapel, and half past twelve, when I returned home, what a change had taken place in me!"4 Charles Haddon Spurgeon had indeed become a child of the Kingdom.
Neither he nor the world would be the same as a result. Before long Spurgeon was searching for a church which fit what he felt God was doing in his life. He had never even heard of Baptists until he was fourteen but Charles was drawn to the Baptist congregation at Isleham. Out of respect to his parents the young man wrote to tell them of his desire to be baptized and join that fellowship. His mother wrote back she had often prayed for him to be saved but that she had never asked that he would become a Baptist. Charles replied to his mother by writing that the "Lord had dealt with her in his usual bounty, and had given her exceeding abundantly above what she had asked."5
Spurgeon would spend time in some ministerial training but he never attended any formal theological school. He also served, preaching to a small congregation near home for about two years at Waterbeach. The country boy had not been called to stay in the country however. God was about to unleash Charles Haddon Spurgeon on the greatest city in the British Empire.
Away from the quiet life of Waterbeach, in London there was a congregation known as New Park Street. It was one of the six largest Baptist churches in London and held a heritage few churches could claim. Among her former pastors were Benjamin Keech, Dr. John Gill, and Dr. John Rippon. These three great names in Baptist history had served a combined 150 years at New Park Street. But times had changed. New Park Street was now what we would call an inner-city church. It was located in the midst of a filthy industrial district which was hard to reach. What had once been a growing congregation of 1200 had ebbed to a group of around 200 souls.
After a series of events, young Spurgeon was asked to pastor this once influential congregation in 1854. In spite of his own doubts about his age, a 20 year old Charles Spurgeon had become pastor in the line of Keech, Gill and Rippon. So great was the impact this novice preacher made on the people at New Park Street and the city of London that by 1855 it was evident a new church building was necessary to accommodate their growing numbers. While the building was progressing the congregation was forced to rent the Exeter Hall to meet in. This was considered scandalous to many of the more high church types for churches did not meet in public buildings in those days. Such growth was not without its critics. Some pastors in London claimed Spurgeon was a glory-hound while local newspapers issued caricatures of Spurgeon as an egotistical and uneducated buffoon.
Not only did Spurgeon gain a field of ministry at New Park Street but he also gained a wife. In 1855 the pastor baptized a lovely young woman by the name of Susannah Thompson. Almost exactly one year later, Charles and Susannah were joined as soul-mates for life. Words cannot describe the bond between these two. Mrs. Spurgeon would be a semi-invalid and Rev. Spurgeon would suffer from gout and depression through most of their marriage. Yet they forged a wonderful marriage along with twin sons. Susannah became her husband’s personal secretary. Once it is reported that she took notes while he talked in his sleep. When he awoke, Spurgeon found the sermon he had mumbled in his sleep. He had slept but Susannah had not. Even after his death, Mrs. Spurgeon kept the work alive, publishing Charles' sermons and distributing thousands of books to young ministers and others.
Regardless of the obstacles, the work went on. No sooner had the congregation returned to their new building than they realized they had not built large enough. So they began to worship at the Surrey Music Hall on Sunday nights. On October 19, 1856, ten thousand people were crammed into the Hall to hear Spurgeon preach, with another ten thousand outside. Not long after services began, someone yelled, “Fire!” The panic that followed caused the deaths of seven people. For several weeks pastor Spurgeon secluded himself in depression over the event. As always, however, God uses even the worst of events to bring about His purposes. This event and those that followed over the next few months led to the greatest chapter in Spurgeon’s ministry.
In 1856, the congregation of New Park Street met to discuss the building of a new sanctuary. In keeping with his vision for London, Spurgeon and the congregation voted to change the name of their church to Metropolitan Tabernacle. The years of service at New Park Street and Metropolitan Tabernacle would prove astounding. When Spurgeon came to New Park Street in 1854 it had a membership of 232. By the end of 1891, 14,460 souls had been baptized and added to the church with a standing membership of 5311.6
One could read of all this work and assume that Spurgeon knew nothing of enjoying himself. Such could be farther from the truth. His sense of humor was renown. C.H.S. had a dislike for instrumental music in the church, especially anthems. After hearing a special performance Spurgeon was told that it was music supposedly sung by David. His immediate reply was, "Then I know why Saul threw his javelin at him." In one of his Friday lectures to his college students the pastor told his students, "When you preach on heaven, have a face that reflects the sweetness of God; when you preach on hell, your normal face will do quite well."
Rather than focus on the things Spurgeon did at New Park Street and Metropolitan Tabernacle, it is better to focus on what Spurgeon was. William Gladstone called him "The Last Puritan." Only the end of time can prove whether that is completely true, but there is a ring of truth to that title. Spurgeon was no high church Calvinist but he definitely felt more of an infinity with men like Calvin and Bunyan than he did his contemporaries. Speaking of his grandfather, C.H.S. said, "I sometimes feel the shadow of his broad (Puritan hat) come over my spirit. I have been charged with being a mere echo of the Puritans, but I had rather be an echo of truth than the voice of falsehood."7
Early on it became apparent that Spurgeon had no fear of labeling himself. He labeled himself by his preaching not by a systematic theology. He was Calvinistic but not hyper-Calvinist. Spurgeon never fled from the seeming incompatibility of the Sovereignty of God and the responsibility of man to repentance. When challenged to do so he replied, "I do not try to reconcile friends." Spurgeon was even once reported as praying before his sermon, "Lord, call out your elect, and then elect some more."8
As did Fuller and Carey, Spurgeon proved that belief in the sovereignty of God does not cool evangelism but rather inflames it. He always preached to sinners, calling them to repentance and salvation. Though he didn’t often have what we would call revival meetings, he invited D.L. Moody to preach in his church and Ira Sankey sang at his funeral. Because Spurgeon held to the tenants of Calvinism while being warmly evangelistic it seemed he was often shot at from all sides. Some Calvinists called him an Arminian and many Arminians called him a hyper-Calvinist. These attacks mattered little to Spurgeon. What he longed for was what earlier Puritans had ardently prayed for. He longed for God to pour out His Spirit on His people. He was always calling the church to true revival.
Above all, Spurgeon was a preacher of the Word. Not the shallow, self-serving allusions to the Word we hear today. He was passionately tied to the whole counsel of God. In The Greatest Fight in the World, he said, "The Word is like its author, infinite, immeasurable, without end. If you were to be ordained to be a preacher throughout eternity, you would have before you a theme equal to everlasting demands." That undying allegiance to God’s Word brought great triumph in Spurgeon’s life and it sometimes brought great controversy.
Late in Spurgeon's life an incident began almost as a footnote but which would become a headline in the body of Christ. In March and April of 1887, two articles appeared in Spurgeon’s magazine, The Sword and Trowel. The articles pointed out the steady decline that seemed to be taking place among Evangelicals. Following those articles were several more in which Spurgeon warned of the influence of liberalism in general and Arminianism in specific. In all of these articles Spurgeon spoke of the downward grade evangelical churches were taking. This became known as the Downgrade Controversy. In the September issue C.H.S. wrote:
"The time has come for Christians to stir: The house is being robbed, its very walls are being digged down, but the good people who are in the bed are too fond of the warmth, and too much afraid of getting broken heads, to go downstairs and meet the burglars …Inspiration and speculation cannot long abide in peace. Compromise there can be none. We cannot hold the inspiration of the Word, and yet reject it; we cannot believe in the atonement and deny it; we cannot talk of the doctrine of the fall and yet talk of the evolution of spiritual life from human nature … One way or another we must go. Decision is the virtue of the hour."9
Once Spurgeon began to name the Baptist Union (which Metropolitan Tabernacle belonged to) things degenerated rapidly. By October, the pastor and church withdrew from The Baptist Union and by December the Union was formally questioning Spurgeon about his statements.
It was Spurgeon’s faith and trust in the Word of God that led him to warn the church of its downward slide toward liberalism but it was actually his Christian charity that got him in trouble. Spurgeon had been told in confidence the names of some of the pastors in the Union who were embracing the "new theology". Because of this confidence, Spurgeon refused to name the men he was speaking of. So, on January 18, 1888, a vote of censure was cast against the Union’s greatest preacher. The die was cast. Spurgeon’s warnings would prove true as the Baptist Union turned more and more to Higher Criticism and gradually abandoned its adherence to God’s Word as the sole authority of life and faith.
Charles Spurgeon’s influence cannot be confined to degrees or titles which were conferred upon him. Several university degrees were awarded him but he always refused them. As his biographer, W. Y. Fullerton noted, "The honors of the world … he held cheap; intellect he valued and he always was a book lover, but he ever reached after the eternal things rather than the temporal."10
If there is any one remaining tangible evidence of the influence Spurgeon had in his day it can be found in his sermons. In particular, his printed sermons have had a monumental impact for over 100 years. There are 63 volumes of Spurgeon’s sermons in print to this day. Newspapers carried his sermons on a weekly and sometimes daily basis for many years. Well over 100 million of those weekly sermons were sold. If one took into account all of his publications they would fill 200 large books. Even by modern estimation these numbers are staggering. People from California to New Zealand had one thing in common they could discuss, if ever they met, the writing of C.H. Spurgeon. One could hardly recommend Spurgeon's method of sermon preparation unless you also have his spiritual and intellectual gifts. He was a veracious reader and immersed himself in the Puritans. Charles first discovered Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress in his grandfather’s library and would read it over 100 times before his death. He was well read in Calvin, Baxter, Owens, Gill, Fuller and many others. In his sermons Spurgeon quoted from the lives of Justin Martyr, Augustine, John Bunyan, George Whitefield, Jonathan Edwards, John Gill, Andrew Fuller, and John Newton.11 By the time of his death, Spurgeon held a personal library of around 12,000 volumes. Much of that library now resides at William Jewel College in the U.S.A.
Added to that Spurgeon had a photographic memory. Nothing escaped his mind and was catalogued away for later use at the proper time. Because of all of these gifts, C.H.S. would not even begin to write down his notes until Saturday night. His Sunday night sermons were prepared on Sunday afternoons. Actually, his sermons were always being prepared. His entire life was a sermon preparation.
Another great field of influence was The Pastor’s College which exists to this day as Spurgeon’s College. In 1861 there were 21 students and soon the school would average around 100 students at any given time. This was not a typical seminary or Bible college. "Wherever the men came from, it was clearly understood that the college did not exist to make ministers but to train them. Unless a man could show some evidence that he was called to preach … there was no welcome for him, however great his gifts in other directions."12
Preaching wasn’t Spurgeon’s only passion. He was involved in extensive social endeavors, especially in the orphanage work. Hundreds of children who otherwise would have roamed the streets as thieves and vagrants were housed, fed and trained in the Word of God. Spurgeon once said, "We are a large church and we must have a large heart for this city."
As mentioned earlier, C.H.S. suffered from severe gout. The pain brought on times of severe depression. When those times became too intense the Spurgeons often would vacation in Mentone, France. While in Mentone in January of 1892, the Prince of Preachers left this earth at the age of 57. His funeral eulogy by Heber Evans sums up the legacy of Charles Haddon Spurgeon:
"But there is one Charles Haddon Spurgeon whom we cannot bury; there is not earth enough in Norwood to bury him — the Spurgeon of history."13
It would be easy to look on the last years of Spurgeon’s life and assume as some of his time did that he grew contentious in the pain of his years. Such could be farther from the truth. Though he was an ardent Baptist, Spurgeon chose two men who practiced infant baptism to head his orphanage. Though he was a Calvinist, he was saved in a Primitive Methodist Church and was supplied by a Presbyterian near the end of his life. There was room for a larger circle of fellowship but not when it came to the infallibility of the Bible and the centrality of the Gospel. To Spurgeon, the real mark of his ministry would be long after he died:
"I sometimes think if I were in heaven I should almost wish to visit my work at the Tabernacle, to see whether it will abide the test of time and prosper when I am gone. Will you keep to the truth? Will you hold to the grand old doctrines of the gospel? Or will this church, like so many others, go away from the simplicity of its faith, and set up gaudy services and false doctrine? Methinks I should turn over in my grave if such a thing could be. God forbid it! But there will be no coming back …"14
One week after Spurgeon's home going, B. H. Carroll preached an entire sermon on his larger influence around the world. In typical Carroll style hear these final words about Charles Haddon Spurgeon:
"Yes, Spurgeon is dead. The tallest and broadest oak in the forest of time is fallen. The sweetest, most silvery and far-reaching voice that published the glad tidings since apostolic times is hushed. The hand whose sickle cut the widest swath in the ripened grain fields of redemption lies folded and nerveless on a pulseless breast, whose heart when beating kept time with every human joy and woe. But he was ready to be offered. He fought a good fight. He kept the faith, and while we weep, he wears the triple crown of life and joy and glory, which God the righteous Judge has conferred upon him … In answer to the question: ‘How do you account for Spurgeon?' the answer is … 'God'"15
For the man who lived his life, All of Grace, that answer would have been most satisfying indeed. "How do you account for Spurgeon?" The answer is … "God"16
Footnotes:
1 W. Y. Fullerton, Charles H. Spurgeon: London's Most Popular Preacher. Chicago: Moody Press, 1966, pp. 19-20.
2 Ibid., p. 23.
3 Ibid., p. 32.
4 C. H. Spurgeon, Autobiography, Volume 1, Chapters 9-11.
5 Fullerton, p. 40.
6 Ibid., p. 121.
7 Timothy George, Baptist Theologians, p. 272.
8 Ibid., p. 274.
9 Iain Murray, The Forgotten Spurgeon, p. 143.
10 Fullerton, p.165.
11 George, p. 283.
12 Fullerton, p. 193.
13 Ibid., p. 274.
14 Murray, p. 258.
15 B. H. Carroll, Baptists and Their Doctrines edited by Timothy and Denise George, p. 59.
16 Ibid., p. 59.
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Though Dead, He Still Speaks - How Satan Remembers C.S. Lewis
The scene is in hell at the annual dinner of the Tempters’ Training College for young devils. The principal, Dr. Snufftub, has just proposed a toast to the health of the guests. Grimgod, a very experienced devil, who is the guest of honor, rises to reply: Headmaster, favorite Decadents, Ghouls, Fiends, and Imps, to my Intolerable Tempters, Ghastly Graduates, and Gentledevils: Gladly do I assume my place in our great tradition to charge our recent graduates towards highest malevolence, mischief, and devilry. I could begin my remarks by dribbling on about how honored I am to have been invited — but you, my lowly esteemed guests, are not humans to be flattered, and I, not a man to feign humility. I tell you plainly: I both deserve and expected to address you this evening. If but for that incompetent Dr. Slubgob — whose faults and failings (and finish) you are all keenly aware — I would have said my piece centuries ago. You would search in vain to find one more suitable in all of Satandom to enflame you in such crucial times as ours. Now that I have your attention, let me direct it to the point of my address: As the tide begins to turn decisively in our favor, we must not let the enemy regain his footing. To initiate a final push, to rally the closing campaign, we must do what young devils tend to relax: We must sever the humans from voices of the past. Now is the time to dispel the great cloud of witnesses, silence those terrible men and women who, though they died, still speak — should they continue to make fools of us? In the name of all that is unholy, they will not! Some of you — and this to your disgrace — do not mind old books lying peacefully upon nightstands. Some of these (and check the registry to recall which ones) cast light upon our shadows, point out ancient traps, inform them of our designs, and thus threaten to rouse this otherwise slumbering generation — but there they lie, tolerated. Many of you are too young to have grown already so careless. As we feast in celebration, I for one agitate to hear their voices sound disgracefully, mockingly outside of our gates. Can you not hear them? For every scrap of the damned that lies upon your plate, for every bite that inspires your snorts and howls, awaken to the fact that negligence in this matter allows the dead to steal meat from our bellies and drink from our cups. Gnash your teeth to realize that they caused us — during this past shortage — to sup on the relatives of most in this room. Their shrieks of protest, still fresh in my mind, commission us all to exorcise these voices from the earth. Should our war efforts continue to be frustrated by ghosts? Appraise one such a phantom — whose birthday happens to fall on this very day — that Irksome Irishman whose very name has become a curse: C.S. Lewis. Stories of Aslan First recall, with trembling voice, that embarrassment, Soretongue, who lost the patient after so many decades in his grasp. A blunder, young Graduates, that few listening to my voice could hope to surpass. His influence took a staunch atheist, a reviler of the faith, and turned him into one of these haunting voices of which I now warn you. Consider the error in full. Consider what this Lewis became. For one thing, this man — unlike so many of their drab ministers and colorless academics whose work we most heartily support — made ghastly impressions upon even our most prized possessions: the children. Through that otherwise terribly useful faculty, the imagination, he corrupted boys and girls across the globe with stories containing the Enemy’s horrible Echo scribbled across their pages. In a make-believe world, with a make-believe lion, and all sorts of other bumbling characters, he captured more than their attention. Can you believe that after losing the man, this dimwitted Tempter actually laughed over Clive’s shoulder as he wrote? “Pure rubbish,” I believe he called it. He could not discern the Enemy’s propaganda smuggled into fictional stories featuring the children, princes, rats, dragons, magical kingdoms, white witches, curses, and fauns. “As threatening to our designs as an old, blind, toothless tiger,” Soretongue reported. But this seducer beckoned into Narnia to show them earth. He introduced Edmund, Lucy, Peter, Eustace, Reepicheep to introduce them to themselves. He told of Aslan — and excuse me for my exasperation — to bring them to that nasty Uncreated One of Judah. He discovered how to preach sermons to children, and Soretongue smiled at it. The Enemy plundered our keepsake through the back of a wardrobe. Wicked Leaks In another turn, that logic, which we knew those many years only as an ally, betrayed us in the end. With each passing essay, with each published book, with each responded letter, radio broadcast, and sermon, he toured them up the mountain to look above to the Enemy and then below upon the labyrinths we so carefully devised for their destruction. Soretongue grossly underestimated the danger of this topographer in our war efforts. Our twisted and turned paths, knotted by delicious deceits and half-truths, began to be spoiled by his mapping out our temptations and pits. Our smoke of relativism, atheism, materialism — and our other favorite isms — availed minimally against this crow who made his nest above the fog. In the last, you might have thought, after Soretongue was through with him, that this fattened pig turned wizard to have broken so many of our spells of worldliness. So often did he — with great exaggeration and deceit, to be sure — appeal to that other world beyond, that many of our enticements fell useless against the bewitched souls of his hearers. His many embellishments about the “weight of glory” and other such nonsense, gross as such slobber stands to us, moved countless humans to take seriously the Enemy’s lies about such things as eternal life. He, pirating the Enemy’s horrible Book, talked often and much of holidays at sea, the country beyond, about the scent, the sight, the longing for a land that they were “made for” — a home standing just over the hill, just around the bend. And something called Joy with a capital J. He fooled the vermin, with pretty colors and poetic potpourri, that the Enemy’s torture and death somehow ensured that his followers — who also take up their own crosses and endure their own sufferings after him — might be the better off in the end. May it never be! Should not the mere existence of our established kingdom below expose the slight of hand? If heaven was as the Enemy so shamelessly boasts it is, why should a host of us so violently leave? But Lewis, with his wand in hand doodling fictions, compelled the swine towards the true ruin we so narrowly escaped. They will find him out eventually. Yet, though they will be sorely and deliciously disappointed at the road’s end, we will still remain the hungrier for it. Silence the Skunks But, enough of the man. I do not mean to honor the vermin by speaking too much of him. The point is this: Do not let the message of the departed saints survive. Should we, of all beings, not know how to silence the dead? Cut out the tongues of the mischief-makers. Six feet below is too shallow — dig deeper. A toast, then. You have studied. You have hungered. You have tempted, watched, and waited for this day. Each of you has, with the indispensable help of your more fiendish advisor, damned one human soul. The dish prepared so perversely before you contains remnants of your spoil — the lion’s share going, of course, to your mentor. May it be the beginning of uninterrupted success — for you know what awaits any alternative. Raise your glasses. To a future brim-filled with courage, cruelty, and conviction. To the setting of sun and the fleeing of the light. To the return of the age of devils. To the silencing of the skunks — to one we mock, “Happy birthday!” Onward and downward! Article by Greg Morse