Martyn Lloyd-Jones

Have you listened on your wireless to the broadcasts of football matches and so on, or have you been to such places? Haven't you seen people under the excitement shouting until they lose their voices? They stand up and wave their handkerchiefs. They hit people, they don't know what they're doing. Now it's not regarded as strange nor unusual when it happens in a football match.

But indeed, I needn't take you back into history. It is simply the fact to say today that so often you find men that one period of their lives not Christian, then they become Christian. And all the ability and all that they have and possess is as evident in the second state as it was in the first. Or look at it like this. Haven't you often seen two men? They were boys together in school. They were always in competition. It was one or the other who was always first. The same in the college, the same everywhere. They seem to be equal in ability, yet one of them becomes a Christian, the other doesn't. What makes the difference? Well, it obviously, it's the matter of intellect, because you can't choose between the two in this respect. And yet there are so many today who tell us that they're not Christian simply because they're thinkers, simply because of their great minds and their great intelligence. This one man alone is more than sufficient as an answer to all such sophistry.

and to give you a man who's much nearer to ourselves d l moody a very strong man physically a very sturdy man and yet you remember that when god gave him this glimpse of his glory he had to ask god to desist and to hold back his hand he felt it was killing him he's not the only one who's felt that i could quote you others have said exactly the same thing the man felt that his literal physical frame was cracking and was breaking under the glory and has to ask god to hold back his hand thou shalt not see my face for no men shall see me and live i'll give you just some indication of it i'll give you a fleeting glimpse of it but you can't see me as i am no no my back parts only

And there he is. What about Drusilla? Well, this is an extraordinary story. In A.D. 79, Drusilla and her son were spending their winter in the famous city of Pompeii. You've read, perhaps, the book The Last Days of Pompeii. You may have visited the ruins of Pompeii, just to the south of Naples, as you know, in Italy. Well, now, in the first century, Pompeii was the place to go to to spend your winter, if you were anybody, if you'd got money or position. They didn't go to the south of France, then still less to the Bahamas, but they went to Pompeii. And it was a marvelous place. It was a wonderful climate, of course, to start with. And the wily, clever, able men had seized their opportunity, built gorgeous palaces and buildings, everything to attract tourists and the people who'd got money to spend the winter in the sunshine. And it was the thing to do. And amongst others who'd gone there this winter were Drusilla and her son.

Do you know what happened after this? I'll tell you very briefly. Quite soon after this event, Pallas, the twin brother of Felix, fell out of favor with the emperor. Why? Nobody knows. That's the sort of people tyrants are. You may be the great favorite today. You'll be on the scrap heap tomorrow with no reason at all. Suddenly, the emperor who'd exalted Pallas threw him down. And because Felix had got his post because of his brother, when Pallas went down, Felix went down as well. Lost everything. He'd held on to it and rejected the gospel. But now he's lost what he held on to.

There it happened in the case of one man to start with. It was exactly the same in the United States. It all started in just one man. There was no bombardment of the mind of this man. None at all. There was no technique employed. It was just one man who himself became convicted of sin and was converted and then began to feel an impulse that he should tell others about it. There were no large crowds. There were no special techniques employed. None whatsoever. That is the amazing thing about the story that it was just one man and then two others joining him and they prayed together for months. Just the three of them in a prayer meeting. No bombardment of the mind at all. No particular technique brought to play with a desired result and effect in their minds. Nothing at all. Just three men prayed and on and on it went for months and slowly others began to come in.

The great William Penn who founded Pennsylvania. He said all this, you know, nearly 300 years ago. He said, men must choose to be governed by God or they condemn themselves to be ruled by tyrants. And what a profound remark that is. And how painfully does this 20th century of ours prove the wisdom of that dictum of the great William Penn.

Now, here again is a test that we all employ quite often, don't we? How do you tell or estimate the value of a drug? Well, I suggest that you do so in terms of the conditions of the diseases which it cures. Let me give you a simple illustration. Take a familiar, well-known drug called aspirin. It's a wonderful little drug. If you've got a headache, take an aspirin. Aches and pains, take aspirin. And you get rid of it. Aspirin can cure headaches, aches and pains, but it's very cheap. Costs practically nothing. You can buy large numbers of tablets of aspirin for practically nothing. A wonderful little drug, but it cures headaches, aches and pains. But you know, there are other drugs which in Britain at any rate are sometimes described as miracle drugs. And they're very costly, they're very expensive. And our Minister of Health is constantly telling the doctors not to prescribe too many of them. Why? Well, because they cost so much. But why are these drugs so wonderful? Why are they so costly? Well, here's the answer. These drugs cure not merely headaches and aches and pains. They cure the most terrible diseases. When I was a medical student 40 years ago, there was a disease, it still happens, called tubercular meningitis. And you know, at that time, if a doctor diagnosed tubercular meningitis, he might as well sit down immediately and write the death certificate. There was never a cure. It was a lethal, it was a killing disease. It was invariably fatal. But you know, some of these new drugs, they can cure even tubercular meningitis. They can heal it. They can restore this little child dying of tubercular meningitis. It's a miracle drug, it's a marvellous drug, it's a great drug.

We're all interested in greatness, aren't we? It's an age that's characterized for its liking of, its almost adoration of big things, great things. We all like that. And this is the very term that this man uses, you notice, in describing this salvation.

Think of great men, like the Earl of Shaftesbury and others, who, as private Christians and as citizens, worked so hard in connection with the Factory Acts. Think also of William Wilberforce and all that he did with regard to the abolition of slavery. As Christians we are citizens of a country, and it is our business to play our part as citizens, and thereby act as salt indirectly in innumerable respects. But that is a very different thing from the Church's doing so.

Year after year men and women make their new resolutions. They realize that above all else what is needed is a fresh start and a new beginning. They decide to turn their backs on the past, to turn over a new leaf, or even to start a new book of life. That is their desire, that is their firm conviction and intention. They want to break with the past and for a time they do their utmost to do so, but it doesn't last. Gradually but inevitably they slide back to the old position and to the old state of affairs. And after a few such experiences they no longer try, and come to the conclusion that all is hopeless. Up to a point, the fight is kept up and maintained, but sheer weariness and fatigue eventually overcome them, the pressure and the might of the world and its way seem to be entirely on the other side and they give in. The position seems to be utterly hopeless.

We tend to think of sin as we see it in its rags and in the gutters of life. We look at a drunkard, poor fellow, and we say: There is sin; that is sin. But that is not the essence of sin. To have a real picture and a true understanding of it, you must look at some great saint, some unusually devout and devoted man. Look at him there upon his knees in the very presence of God. Even there, self is intruding itself, and the temptation is for him to think about himself, to think pleasantly and pleasurably about himself, and really to be worshipping himself rather than God. That, not the other, is the true picture of sin. The other is sin, of course, but there you do not see it at its acme; you do not see it in its essence.