Romains 10:16

But they have not all obeyed the gospel.

For Esaias saith, Lord, who hath believed our report?

Obedience to the gospel

1. Paul prevents an objection to that which was said concerning the preaching of the gospel to the Gentiles, that it was of God. As if some Jew should say, No, Paul, God never sent you to preach to them, for if He had He would have sent you first to us, and have blessed your labours; but the greater part obey you not, either of Jews or Gentiles. This Paul answers by a concession, with a correction annexed, as if he should say, Indeed all do not obey the gospel, yet you Jews are not to be offended, because, as our sending was foretold, so your and their incredulity; and the small fruit and effect was foretold also.

2. All have not obeyed, i.e., believed. So called because obedience is an inseparable effect of faith. So we say of the trees in our orchards, this is a pear, that a plum, when they are the trees that bear such fruit; so faith is the tree that bears the fruit of obedience. The obedience of faith is twofold. First, of reason, when it gives place and way to the gospel, though it conceive it not. For the gospel goes beyond reason, as in the point of the Trinity, incarnation of Christ, justification of a sinner before God, resurrection, etc. Abraham believed (2 Corinthiens 10:5) above or against reason, and the gospel is said to bring into subjection our reason. That of works is when we observe the law, for faith worketh by love (Galates 5:6), and is to be shown by our works.

3. When the gospel is preached all are not converted by it and believe it (Jean 3:32, Jean 12:37; Matthieu 20:16; 2 Thesaloniciens 3:2).

I. Faith is called obedience. Obey thou in life, and make thy reason obey. No man standing on his own reason ever believed; an unsanctified wit is a great hindrance of faith. The greatest philosophers (Actes 17:18) most resisted Paul, as our greatest politicians most scoff at preaching of the Word.

II. All are bound to hear, and nothing so worthy to be heard as the gospel. Let us say of hearing, as Paul speaks of knowing it, viz., that he esteemed to know nothing besides (1 Corinthiens 2:2). The nurse’s song doth not so quiet the babe as the preaching of the gospel the conscience. It is the hand of God offering us forgiveness of sins. He, therefore, who hath ears to hear, let him hear. If thou wilt not now hear that which may profit thee, thou shalt hear one day that which will make thy heart to ache, even this, “Go, you cursed,” etc.

III. Ministers must be affected and grieve when they see the company of reverent hearers so thin, and their labours so fruitless. The prophet here complains of this; so Christ groans for the hardness of the people’s hearts, and weeps over the stubbornness of Jerusalem. The shrewdest turn to be done to a minister is to deprive him of the joy of his labours, and the way to rejoice them is to embrace the gospel they preach.

IV. Isaiah and Paul gave not over, though they had cause to complain. As the physician omits no point of his art, though the recovery of his patient be desperate, so, though we preach to many desperate and scoffing hearers, we must not give over, but rather use the more diligence.

V. Although faith cannot be without preaching going before it, yet preaching may be without faith following it. As that which is to be known may be without the knowledge of it. There are two things required to faith: the determination of that which is to be believed, and the inclination and persuasion of the heart to believe. Preaching determines, but it is God who persuades by preaching. God can do it without preaching, but preaching cannot do it without God. Our voice can say repent, but it is God only that gives repentance. Paul preacheth to Lydia’s care, but God hath the key of her heart. (Elnathan Parr, B.D.)

Disobedience to the gospel

1. Man is the same disobedient creature under all dispensations. We bemoan his rejection of the gospel, and so did Isaiah, who spoke in the name of the whole company of the prophets.

2. It is one of the greatest proofs of the depravity of man’s heart that he will no more obey the gospel than the law, but disobeys his God, whether He speaks to him in love or in law. Men will sooner be lost than trust their God.

3. When any receive the gospel it is a work of grace--“the arm of the Lord is revealed”; but when they refuse it it is their own sin--“they have not obeyed the gospel.”

I. The gospel comes to men with the force of a command. It is not optional to men to accept or refuse it at pleasure (Actes 17:30; Marc 1:5). To refuse to believe is to incur great sin (Jean 16:8). There is a death penalty attached to disobedience (Marc 16:16). It is so put--

1. To secure the honour of God. It is not the offer of an equal to an equal, but of the great God to a condemned sinner.

2. To embolden the proclaimer of it. The minister now speaks boldly with his Master’s authority.

3. To remind him of his obligations. Repentance and faith are natural duties from which the gospel does not exonerate a man, although it blesses him by bestowing them upon him.

4. To encourage the humble seeker. He must be at full liberty to believe in Jesus, since he is commanded to do so, and threatened if he does not do so.

5. To suggest to men the urgent duty of seeing to their soul’s welfare. Suicide, whether of the body or of the soul, is always a great crime. To neglect the great salvation is a grave offence. The gospel is set forth as a feast, to which men are bound to come, under penalty of the King’s displeasure (Matthieu 22:1). The prodigal was right in returning to his father; and if he was right in doing so, so would each one of us be in doing the same.

II. What, then, are the claims of the gospel to obedience?

1. The authority of the sender. Whatever God commands, man is under bonds to do.

2. The motive of the sender. Love shines in the gospel command, and no man should slight infinite love. To refuse to obey the gospel of salvation is an insult to Divine love.

3. The great gift of the sender: He has given us His only begotten Son. To refuse Jesus is a high affront to measureless love.

4. The reasonableness of the demand of the sender. Should not men believe their God and trust their Saviour?

5. The earnestness of the sender. His whole heart is in the gospel. Note the high position which the scheme of salvation occupies in the esteem of God. Shall we not obey an appeal put before us with such energy of compassion? Ask your own consciences whether you do right to refuse or neglect the gospel of the grace of God. Ask those who are now saved what they think of their long unbelief. Do not incur a world of regrets in after years by long delays. Do not jeopardise your souls by refusing the gospel.

III. What is the obedience required by the gospel? Not mere hearing, crediting, liking, professing, or proclaiming; but a hearty obedience to its commands. It claims--

1. Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

2. Renunciation of self-righteousness and confession of guilt.

3. Repentance and practical quittance of sin,

4. Discipleship under the Lord Jesus; and this means obedience both to His teaching and His example.

5. Public confession of His name, in His own way, namely, by baptism. Conclusion: If you refuse to obey the gospel your hearts will harden to a deeper unbelief. Others will obtain the blessing which you refuse; and this will deepen your own condemnation (Romains 10:19). You will die in your sins, with your blood on your own heads. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

An incredible rumour

About 700 B.C. there was a great revival in Israel. The songs of pure worship were heard again in the temple, and the people bowed at the altars of Jehovah. This return to truth and righteousness was, however, merely temporary. It was as the flashing of Northern Lights: the returning darkness was deeper than ever. King and people went back to their abominations, and the prophet disappeared in the gloom of the gathering night, uttering this sad lament, ‘Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” Seven hundred years went by, and around the spur of Mount Olivet passed a procession on its way to the Holy City. “Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David!” cried those that went before and those that followed after. Jesus entered the temple, and from the porch where Isaiah had vainly besought the people to repent and believe He preached the glorious gospel. But in Him there was no form nor comeliness that men should desire Him. The heart of the people was in no wise changed, as Esaias had written, “Who hath believed our report? and to whom is God’s arm revealed?” When all was over and the glorious work had been verified by the Saviour’s triumph over death, Paul, writing to the people of Rome, bids them believe that their salvation is near; he would have them rejoice in the good news of deliverance from sin. Yet still the message was rejected, and the apostle finds utterance for his disappointment in the prophet’s words, “Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” And here am I, eighteen hundred years after, preaching the same gospel. Has human nature changed in the meantime? There are multitudes who still reject the offer of redemption in Jesus Christ. What is this report which the people so persistently reject? It is the story of God’s intervention in behalf of our ruined race. The greatest blunder that a human soul can ever make is to refuse the proffer of salvation in Jesus Christ. And pride is at the bottom of it.

I. Pride of intellect. We all know something, and none knows over-much. “A little learning is a dangerous thing.” The temptation is to reject everything which does not fall within the grasp of reason. Observe some of the fundamental facts of the gospel over which we stumble because they baffle us.

1. The manger. Not for a moment must it be supposed that a finite mind can comprehend the mystery of the Incarnation. That, however, is absolutely no reason at all why we should reject it.

2. The Cross. How can the innocent suffer for the guilty? How can the Infinite God bear the sins of His creatures? How can justice be satisfied by vicarious pain? But the mystery of God’s vicarious death in our behalf is really no more incredible than the lower but like mystery of a mother’s love. And a mother’s love is the commonest thing in the world.

3. The open sepulchre. He that was dead is alive again. This also is repugnant to our reason. And yet life out of death, the mystery of mysteries, is all around us and ever forcing itself upon us.

II. Moral pride. The worst of us thinks moderately well of himself.

1. The suggestion of sin is abhorrent to us. It disturbs our equanimity; it troubles our sleep. Christ tears away the turf from our assumption of virtue and exposes a graveful of “dead men’s bones and uncleanness.” Little wonder that a sinner will have none of it.

2. We do not like the notion of repentance. We all would kill John the Baptist could we catch him.

3. The doctrine of free grace is repugnant to us. We would cheerfully pay; but Croesus himself could not, with all his generous possessions, buy one of the clusters from the king’s vineyard. We would be glad to suffer if suffering could expiate the mis-lived past; but we cannot. Christ has suffered once for all. What then remains? How shall a sinner be saved? By simply accepting the proffer of pardon and life. He that believeth shall be saved. Is this all? Ay; and it is the slightness of it that offends us. We must become nothing in the presence of Christ, to the end that Christ may become everything to us. There are two concluding thoughts.

(1) The report that God has loved us and given Himself for us is true. This is the news, the god-spel, the glorious gospel of the blessed God.

(2) And if it were not true, still let us cherish it. If it be only a fond delusion, let us in any case continue in it. If but a dream, let no rude hand or unkind voice awake us. If there is no God, no Almighty Friend to care for this world and its suffering creatures, still let us dream of a kind Providence and murmur in our sleep, “Abba Father.” But the gospel is true. We speak that we do know and testify that we have seen. God’s arm hath been made bare for us. (D. J. Burrell, D.D.)

The gospel report

I. The gospel is a report.

1. It is not a new report. It is that which was first heard by our first parents, “Thou shalt bruise his head.” It is the same which was received by the patriarchs and prophets, of whom it is said, “These all died in faith.” It is the same which began to be made by Christ, when in the fulness of time He brought life and immortality to light by the gospel. Novelty is sometimes pleaded against the preachers of the gospel. There is, indeed, a sense in which it is new; its excellence can be known only by experience.

2. But, if it be not new, it is full of truth. Your attention might perhaps be excited by a report that is not true, as some of you may have been excited by the mimicry of the stage, or as others may have poured tears of sensibility over a romance. But all is truth, all is reality here.

3. But supposing it to be true, is it interesting? Is this report an important one? Yes, it is as good as it is true, as true as it is good. There is something striking in the scheme of the gospel. Infinite wisdom is displayed in it, infinite grace is manifested in it; it is infinitely glorious in its effects. Drop it in a town, in a village, in a family, its influence will be soon felt. It does more than all the wisdom of the senate--than all the maxims of philosophers--than all the power of armies.

II. This report is connected with faith. Else it is made in vain. The complaint is, “Who hath believed our report?” I do not mean a family faith, for the exercise of which a man can assign no other reason than that his father believed so before him. Nor do I mean a geographical faith, by which a man makes a profession of Christianity merely because he lives in a Christian country. I speak of genuine faith. This is a Divine principle, and it produces Divine effects. It is of the operation of the Spirit, and it is always accompanied by proper fruits. Wherever the gospel report is carried, it carries the obligation to believe it, for there is--

1. Sufficiency of object. Christ, who was “made sin for us, though He knew no sin,” and who is as willing as He is able, and as able as He is willing, “to save to the uttermost.”

2. A sufficiency of authority to warrant all that the sinner expects. The Saviour came to seek and to save sinners. And is not this your character?

3. A sufficiency of invitation. The language of this report is, “Come.” The Old Testament says “Come”--“Come, and let us reason together,” etc. “Ho, every one that thirsteth,” etc. The Lord Jesus Christ says, “Come”--“If any man thirst, let him come to Me and drink”--“Come unto Me, all that labour,” etc. “And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come,” etc. (W. Mann, A.M.)

Man’s treatment of the gospel

I. This quotation is regarded by Dean Vaughan as the citing of a parallel case. “The gospel is sent to all; but” (it may be objected} “not all obey. It is true. That complaint is as old as Isaiah’s time: who believed? This failure did not stop Isaiah’s utterance, nor is the same experience any argument against the universal proclamation of God’s message now.”

II. Dr. Hodge considers it as a proof. “The complaint of the prophet was not confined to the men of his generation. It had reference mainly to the general rejection of the gospel, especially by the theocratical people. ‘Christ came unto His own, and His own received Him not.’ And this was predicted of old.”

Hearing and hearkening:--

I. You have all heard. These are the days in which knowledge is increased in the earth, and many run to and fro. The Maories of New Zealand have heard of a Saviour’s love, and many of them have rejoiced in it believingly. Throughout the world the gospel is winning its widening way, and on the wings of mighty love it flies, scattering its treasures in its flight. But, apart altogether from the condition of the heathen world, the fact remains that all of you have heard the gospel. I talk to one who, though he sits in darkness still, cannot plead that no day-star has arisen. You remember, doubtless, the touching story of the dying gipsy boy who, being visited by a lady who told him of Jesus, the Saviour of sinners, poured this doleful lament into the missionary’s ears, “Nobody ever told me! Nobody ever told me!” He died, muttering words which to his mother were altogether unintelligible, but which the good lady understood; for, as his spirit passed away, he shook his head and wept bitter tears, saying, “Nobody ever told me!” My friends, you cannot make that excuse before the throne of God, for you have all heard the gospel.

II. Let me try to show you the difference between hearing and obeying. The fact that the apostle laments that they did not all obey, implies that some did. Wherever the gospel is preached some will receive the truth in the love of it. But, alas, I must confess that in New Zealand, as well as in Old England, there are many who, though they hear it, do not hearken to it. I will try to show you the difference. We have in the Colonies a custom in connection with the Fire Brigade which will illustrate my point. The city is divided into numbered wards, and when the alarm has been sounded, the bell tolls out the number of the ward in which the conflagration has occurred. By this arrangement those who are from home, attending a service or visiting their friends, are informed of the locality of the fire. Suppose the system could be amplified, so that every street and house were indicated; what eager listening there would be! When the bell had finished clanging its alarm, would not every householder count the strokes? and he who heard the number of his house sounded out, would have wings to his heels immediately, and rush away to save his children and his goods from the fiery element. Now, it is when the gospel comes home to a man like that--when he hears his number rung out, and feels that his soul is in danger of eternal burning--when the finger of God points at him as Nathan’s did at David, and a stern voice declares “Thou art the man”--then it is that he has given up hearing for hearkening, and hearkening becomes equivalent to obeying. Then he hastens to the Saviour, saying, “I flee unto Thee to hide me.” Perhaps another illustration will make this clearer still. There is a large crowd in the street, and I hear the bellman’s ringing, and his stentorian voice crying out, “Oh yes! oh yes! oh yes!” He proceeds to announce that as the inhabitants of the town are perishing for lack of bread, and shivering for want of clothing, certain friends have opened a soup kitchen yonder, and others in another place are giving blankets and clothes away. The starving, shivering people listen with all-eager interest. Oh, what glad tidings it is to them--bread enough and to spare! “Oh,” they say, “this is just the thing for us.” No, they do not stop to say that. Away they go, without comment, to receive the bounty. They listen first, and then they hearken. They no sooner hear than they obey. But, while the crowd was listening to the bellman, a fine lady in a grand carriage said to the coachman, “John, what is the matter there? Just pull up a minute. I would like to see what is wrong.” Thereupon the splendid equipage neared the crowd, but did not remain, for her ladyship was disgusted as soon as she saw so many poor, hungry, ill-clothed folk, and said, peevishly, “Drive on, John; drive home.” She did not want any soup and blankets--not she. She could readily have spared half of hers for the poor and needy, so of course she does not obey the bellman. I am persuaded that the great reason why there are so few hearkeners among so many hearers of the glad tidings is that they do not realise their necessities.

III. Now, lastly, let me urge you to obey. You have heard the tidings. You cannot doubt that it is glad tidings. Procrastinate no longer. Accept the joyful tidings and the Saviour of whom the tidings speak. Why do so many remain disobedient to this heavenly vision? Either they do not realise their need, or else they do not recognise the richness of the supply. It must be one or the other. Stretch yourselves in imagination on a couch. You are lying half asleep in a room on the wall of which is a simple picture. At a cottage door a poor wayfarer sits upon a fallen log. He looks hungry and tired; and just in the porchway there stands a kind-looking country woman with a baby in her arms, and a little child beside her with a basin of porridge or of soup in its hands. The little one is being taught by its mother to be good and kind to the poor. How is it that want and weariness do not eagerly accept kindness and refreshment? The answer is found in the fact that it is not real life at all; it is only a picture. The man has no real needs, he is not actually hungry, nor is it a basin of porridge at all, and the smile on the woman’s face is only pictured. There is nothing real in all of it, or the dinner would soon be demolished, the famished fed, and the giver gratified. There are some who do not accept the offered mercy because its glorious reality has never dawned upon them; nor are they aware of the reality of their need, though they may have a dreamy sense of the fact that something is wanting. (Thos. Spurgeon.)

Man’s treatment of the gospel, indifference

How many hear the gospel with unconcern! A telegram on the Exchange--they read it with both their eyes--will there be a rise or fall of stocks? An article from which they may judge of the general current of trade--how they devour it with their minds, they suck in the meaning, and then go and practise what they have gathered from it. A sermon heard, and lo, the minister is judged as to how he preached it--as if a man reading a telegram should say the capital letter was not well inked on the press, or the dot to the “i” had dropped off the letter; or as if a man reading an article of business should simply criticise the style of the article instead of seeking to get at its meaning, and act upon its advice. Oh, how men will hear and think it to be right, to be the height of perfection to say they liked or disapproved of the sermon! As if the God-sent preacher cared one dolt whether you did or did not like his sermon, his business being not to please your tastes, but to save your souls; not to win your approbation, but to win your hearts for Jesus, and bring you to be reconciled to God. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Indifference: the cause of discouragement

“Why do I sit as if I were asleep when I play?” said Rubinstein, in reply to a question. “I will gladly tell you how that is. Some five years ago I gave a concert in London. My audience seemed very interested, and I myself was well disposed. As I was playing Beethoven’s ‘Appassionata,’ without thinking I looked around, and there, at the other end of the piano, I saw a lady gossiping as fast as possible! It was like a douche of ice-water. I closed my eyes at once, and since then I have never dared to even cast a glance at an audience.”

Indifference no reason for despair

A minister with a large congregation came home one day in great trouble and told his wife that he was almost out of heart, and felt very much like resigning his place and giving up his work. “And what makes you feel that way?” responded his wife. “Well,” said the minister, “everything seems to be going wrong. It is so difficult to keep people interested in religion, and so many seem to be almost wholly indifferent.” “So you would like to have everybody and everything just right, would you? “ said his wife. “That is it.” “Very well,” continued the wife, “then you could resign; then your work would not be needed. But as things are you should hold firmly your place, for the reason you have given is just why you should work on.”

Indifference: its prevalence

Is earnest faith declining? The tendency seems to be decidedly in this direction. Even in secular affairs, The Times tells us, “Nothing is more remarkable than the complete extinction of that keen interest, that intense faith, and that eager hope, which manifestly inspired the politicians of half a century ago, and made their influence felt among all classes of the community.” In religious circles it is common to hear comments on the indifference of a large number of persons who go to church, the absence from their minds of anything like powerful convictions, and the easy nonchalance with which they pass by great and solemn inquiries, the importance of which used to be felt by nearly all. Ministers of the gospel, therefore, who have the responsibility of guiding the Church, have need to remember that if they would see an earnest faith on the part of their people, nothing is more necessary than that their own hearts be pervaded by it, and if they would see that faith controlling other men’s lives it must very really control their own. (A. M. Fairbairn, D.D.)

Indifference: the prevalent

The grossest form of indifference is cynicism. When one hears certain men talk of Christ and His religion with a half-patronising tone, or reads their writings in which His character and works are subjected to a criticism that is simply insolent, one is appalled by such flagrant indecency. This is an indifference that is not common, however, but yet its infection may quickly spread if ever the poison of a profane irreverence has prepared any section of society for its reception. The indifference that is fashionable is formalist. There are thousands to whom religion is merely the adaptation of a certain conventional habit of respectable observance. They are Christians because they live in Christendom; Protestants because they live in England; Church people because their parents were so. In church there is an indifference about the service, the prayers, the sermon. It is a ceremony performed, not for God’s glory, but for custom’s sake, as “the right thing to do,” not because it is a privilege and a joy. And from one Sunday to the next, unless there is a custom of family prayers, the question of religion simply never once strikes them as forming any part of every-day life. The service, the preacher, the doctrine, the style, may be occasionally discussed in intervals between other topics of the day--politics, amusements, the weather--but that is all. About the things of Christ and of God there is the most supreme indifference. Across the smooth surface of that mental and spiritual unconcern not a ripple is ever stirred by any breath of life from above, or any blast of terror from beneath. (R. F. L. Blunt.)