Morning and Evening

November 27, Evening

C. H. Spurgeon · Modern retelling

"The forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace." — Ephesians 1:7 · KJV

Could there be a sweeter word in any language than "forgiveness," when it sounds in a guilty sinner's ear like the silver notes of jubilee to the captive Israelite? Blessed, for ever blessed, be that dear star of pardon which shines into the condemned cell and gives the perishing a gleam of hope amid the midnight of despair! Can it be possible that sin — such sin as mine — can be forgiven; forgiven altogether, and for ever? Hell is my portion as a sinner; there is no possibility of my escaping it while sin remains on me. Can the load of guilt be lifted, the crimson stain removed? Can the flinty stones of my prison house ever be loosened from their sockets, or the doors lifted from their hinges? Jesus tells me I may yet be clear. For ever blessed be the revelation of atoning love, which not only tells me that pardon is possible, but that it is secured to all who rest in Jesus. I have believed in the appointed propitiation, even Jesus crucified, and therefore my sins are at this moment, and for ever, forgiven, by virtue of His substitutionary pains and death. What joy is this! What bliss to be a perfectly pardoned soul! My soul dedicates all her powers to Him who, of His own unpurchased love, became my surety, and wrought out for me redemption through His blood. What riches of grace does free forgiveness display! To forgive at all; to forgive fully; to forgive freely; to forgive for ever! Here is a constellation of wonders; and when I think how great my sins were, how dear were the precious drops that cleansed me from them, and how gracious was the way in which pardon was sealed home to me, I am lost in a maze of wondering, worshipping affection. I bow before the throne that absolves me; I clasp the cross that delivers me; I serve henceforth, all my days, the incarnate God, through whom I am this night a pardoned soul.

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