HE THAT WINNETH SOULS IS WISE

" He that winneth souls is wise." — Prov. xi. 30.

If I should go up and down the streets of Birmingham, and ask the different men and women whom I met, " Whom do you regard as the wise man? " I would get a great variety of answers. I might go, for example, into some of your banks and ask the man who was at the head of the bank, " Whom do you regard as the wise man? " and very likely I would get an answer like this, " I regard the man who succeeds in getting the most money as the wise man — the man who by virtue of rare business sagacity and unusual industry amasses a fortune of first a thousand pounds, and then ten thousand pounds, and then a hundred thousand pounds, and then a million pounds, and then two, three, four, five, ten million pounds, I regard him as the wise man." If I should go into your political offices I would get a different answer. Very likely the man would reply, " I regard the man who studies the economic and political problems of the day until he has mastered them, who succeeds in finding out what is best for his country's financial welfare, who wins the confidence of his fellow-citizens, and so is elected to Parliament, and is afterwards made a Cabinet Minister, and then is made Prime Minister, I regard him as the wise man." If I should go to your military men I would get a different answer still. Very likely the reply would be something like this: " I regard the man who masters the art of war, who studies the science of tactics and manoeuvres until he knows how to manoeuvre great forces on the field of battle, to lead them on to victory, the man who first becomes a captain, then a major, then a lieutenant-colonel, then a colonel, then a brigadier-general, then a major-general, then a lieutenant-general, and finally a field-marshal, I regard him as the wise man." If I should go to your young men and women I would get a different answer. Very likely they would say to me, " I regard the man or woman who gets the most pleasure out of life, who finds the most fun by day and the most amusement by night, I regard him as the wise man." But when I turn away from men with all these discordant answers and look up to God and say, "Heavenly Father, whom dost Thou regard as the wise men," there comes thundering down from yonder throne of eternal light this answer, " He that winneth souls is wise." Not he that wins money, not he that wins political distinctions and honour and position, not he that wins renown in the field of battle, not he that wins the most sport and amusement in life, but he that wins the most men and women to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, he is the wise man.

Men and women, in the eyes of God the wise man is the man that makes soul-winning the business of his life, and my main proposition this afternoon is this, that every follower of Jesus Christ should make the winning of others to Christ the business of his life. I know that some of you say, " I don't believe that; I believe that the statement is altogether too strong." I am going to give you this afternoon six unanswerable reasons why soul-winning should be the business of life on the part of every follower of Jesus Christ.

First of all, soul-winning should be the business of life with every Christian because that is the work that Jesus Christ has commanded us to do. When the Lord Jesus Christ left this earth, He left His marching orders to the Church. You will find them in Matt, xxviii. 19, " Go ye into all the world and make disciples of all the nations." That commandment was not merely for the first twelve disciples; it was for every follower of Jesus Christ in every age of the Church's history. If you will take the Book of Acts you will see very plainly that in the early Church every Christian considered that the great commission to make disciples, to win souls, was for himself. For example, if you will turn to Acts viii. 4, you will read these words, "They that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the Word"; and these that were scattered abroad were not the apostles, but the rank and file, the ordinary everyday members of the Church.

Some years ago when I was speaking in the city of Minneapolis in America, I noticed down in the audience a young lawyer. When the meeting was over I made my way to him and said, " Are you a Christian? " " Well, sir," he said, " I consider myself a Christian." I said, " Are you bringing other men to Christ? " He said, " No, I am not, that is not my business; that's your business, I am not called to do that. I am called to practise law; you are called to preach the Gospel." I said, " If you are called to be a Christian you are called to bring other men to Christ." He said, " I don't believe it." I said, "Look here." Then I opened my Bible at Acts viii. 4, and asked him to read, and he read, " They that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the Word." " Oh yes," he said, " but these were the apostles." I said, " Will you be kind enough to read the first verse of the chapter, and he read, " They were all scattered abroad except the apostles," and " they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the Word." He had nothing more to say. What could he say?

Men and women, every man and every woman here who believe themselves Christians and are not winning others to Christ are disobedient to Jesus Christ. It is serious business in war to be disobedient to your commanding officer, and it is serious business for a Christian to be disobedient to Jesus Christ. Jesus says, " Ye are My friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you" (John xv. 14). One evening I was told that a minister's son was to be present in my congregation, and that though he professed to be a Christian he djd not work much at it. I watched for him and selected the man in the audience who I thought was he, and selected the right man. At the close of the service I hurried to the door by which he would leave, and shook hands with different ones as they passed out. When he came I took his hand and said, " Good-evening! I am glad to see you; are you a friend of Jesus? " " Yes," he replied heartily, " I consider myself a friend of Jesus." " Jesus says," I replied, " ye are My friends if ye do whatsoever I command you." His eyes fell. " If those are the conditions, I guess I am not." I put the same question to you, Are you a friend of Jesus? Are you doing whatsoever He commands you? Are you winning souls as He commands? If I should ask every friend of Jesus to arise, could you conscientiously get up?

In the second place, soul-winning should be the business of life with every Christian, because it was the business of life with Jesus Christ Himself. What is it to be a Christian? To be a Christian is to be a follower of Christ. What is it to be a follower of Christ? To be a follower of Christ is to have the same purpose in life that Jesus Christ had. What was Christ's purpose in life? He Himself defines it in Luke xix. 10. He says, "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." The Lord Jesus Christ had just one purpose in coming down to this earth. He had just one purpose in leaving the glory of heaven for the shame of earth. There was just one thing He lived for, one thing He suffered for, one thing He died for, that was to save the lost. Is that your purpose? Is that what you live for? Is that the one great ambition of your life? Is that the all-absorbing passion of your life? If it is not, what right have you to call yourself a Christian? If Christ had one purpose in life and you have an entirely different purpose in life, what right have you to call yourself a follower of Jesus Christ? Jesus Christ says in Matt. iv. 19, "Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men." Are you following Christ? are you fishing for men? Suppose I had asked at the beginning of this service every follower of Christ to stand up, I think that almost every man and woman in this audience would have stood to their feet; but suppose I should now ask every follower of Christ to rise, how many of you could stand up?

In the third place, soul-winning should be the business of life with every Christian, because that is the work in which we enjoy the unspeakable privilege of the personal fellowship of Jesus Christ. There is a wonderful promise in this Book, one of the most precious promises that it contains, a promise that men and women are quoting constantly. I do not wonder that men and women so often quote the promise! what I do wonder at is that they quote the promise without reference to the context and the condition. The promise is this (Matt, xxviii. 20), "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." Is there a more precious promise than that between the covers of this book? Ah, but notice the condition. You will find it in the preceding verse. Jesus said, " Go ye into all the world and make disciples of all the nations, . . . and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

In other words, Jesus says, " You go my way, and I will go yours. You go out with me in fellowship, in work, and I will go out with you in personal fellowship."

I want to ask you a question: Have you any right to this promise? You have often quoted it; you have often built upon it, but have you any right to it? Are you going out, as far as your line extends, making disciples, winning souls? Your line may not extend very far, but as far as your line extends, are you going out to bring other men or women to Christ? If you are, you have a right to that promise. If you are not, you have no right to that promise.

In the fourth place, soul-winning should be the business of life with every one of us, because that is the work in which we enjoy the fulness of the Holy Spirit's presence and power. Men and women, there is no greater blessing than to receive the Holy Ghost, to be filled with the Holy Ghost, to be baptized with the Holy Ghost. Oh, the joy of personally receiving and being filled with and baptized with the Holy Ghost 1 It is heaven come down to earth. But listen, that blessing is given for a specific purpose, and can only be had along the line of that purpose. What that purpose is, is revealed in Acts i. 8. Jesus says, " Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto Me both in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts of the earth." The baptism with the Holy Ghost, the gift of the Holy Ghost, is given to you and me to make us effective in God's service. There is many a man who is praying for the baptism with the Holy Ghost day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, and getting nothing. Why? Because he is seeking a blessing that terminates in himself. You are seeking God's blessing, but you are not seeking it on God's line. When you are ready to go out and tell others about Christ as best you can in God's power, when you are willing to go out and plead with men and women and children to accept the Lord Jesus Christ, then and only then can you have the gift of the Holy Ghost.

In the fifth place, soul-winning should be the business of life with every one of us, because it is the work that produces the most beneficent results. There is no other work so beneficent, no other work that is for a moment comparable to the work of bringing other men and women to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. To feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to better house the poor, to instruct the ignorant, is blessed work, and I rejoice in all the work of that kind that is being done. But, men and women, to clothe the naked, to feed the hungry, to house the poor, to instruct the ignorant, is not for a moment to be compared with the glory, the honour, and the beneficence of bringing lost men and women to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. There is no work like it. There is one passage in this Book which, if I could quote it, as it ought to be quoted, — that is, if I could so repeat that passage as to bring out the full meaning and force of three words in that passage, — I would be willing to leave Birmingham without preaching another sermon, for if I could quote that passage as it ought to be quoted, if I could so quote it as to make you men and women realise the full and entire meaning and force of three words in that passage, this whole audience at the close of this meeting would rise en masse and go out of Bingley Hall, to go up and down the streets of Birmingham for days, and weeks, and months, and years to come, beseeching men and women to be reconciled to God. You say, " What is this passage? " It is a very familiar one. You all know it, but the trouble is you know the words so well you have never stopped to weigh the meaning. Jas. v. 20: " Let him know that he which converteth a sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death." Oh, I would to God that I could burn these words into your hearts to-day — " he which converteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death." The three words to note and weigh are, " Save," " Soul," " Death."

Let us begin with the middle one of the three words — soul. " Shall save a soul from death." Oh, if I only had power to make you men and women in Bingley Hall this afternoon see the value of a soul as God sees it, not merely the value of the soul of the philosopher, or the soul of the highly-educated man, or the soul of the prince or the nobleman, but the value of the soul of the drunkard and the outcast woman, of the uneducated man and the ignoramus, of the little, ragged, dirty boy or girl upon the street. Oh, if I could make you see and feel the value of one soul as God sees it! What can I put in comparison with it? Gold is nothing in comparison with the value of a soul. Precious stones are nothing, all the gems of earth are as nothing. In 1893, during the World's Fair in Chicago, there was a place in the Manufacturer's Building, in the Tiffany Exhibit, that I could never get close to that I might see what the people were looking at. Time and time again, and day after day, I went to that place, at all hours of the day and night, but there was always such a crowd there that, if I wanted to see what they were looking at, I had to stand on my tiptoes and look over the heads of the crowd in front of me. What were they looking at? Nothing but a cone of purple velvet revolving upon its axis, and towards its apex was a large, beautiful diamond of fabulous value. Day after day people by the thousand came to see it, and during the course of the World's Fair people literally by the million came to look at that one stone. Well, it was worth looking at, but I have never thought of that sight since but the thought has occurred to me, that the soul of one man or woman, the soul of the most worthless drunkard on the street, the soul of the vilest and most abandoned woman, the soul of the raggedest and filthiest and most ignorant boy or girl upon the street is of infinitely more value in God's sight than ten thousand diamonds like that.

I had two friends in New York city in the same business, and both of them prospered in it. One of these men started in life in New York city practically penniless, but he had very rare business ability, and he succeeded in amassing a fortune of first a million dollars, than of two million dollars, then of three million dollars, and then of four million dollars. One day he was walking toward his beautiful home up on Fifth Avenue, and as he crossed one of the lower avenues of the city he was run into by a tram-car and taken home to die. He had left four million dollars. Yes, he left it all. He did not take a penny of it with him. And I remember how the New York and the Brooklyn papers came out with editorials upon this self-made man, speaking of his remarkable business ability. He had come to New York as a young man absolutely without money, and had gone to work and amassed a fortune of four million dollars, and then died. The other man was in the same business. He, too, had prospered. I don't know just how much he accumulated. I think about half a million dollars. Then one day God came into that man's home and took out of it a beautiful daughter, a child only four years of age, the idol of that man's heart. A few days after her burial he was riding up in the elevated train towards his home, and as he thought of his little daughter the blinding tears came to his eyes, and he held the newspaper up before his face to hide the tears from the strangers in the train. He kept thinking about his little daughter Florence, and this question came into his heart, " Your daughter is dead; what are you doing for other men's daughters? " He said, " I am doing nothing, but I will," and the next year he put ten thousand dollars into the rescue of fallen girls in New York city, the next year put eleven thousand dollars into the same work, and the next year he put himself into the work. He turned his back upon his place of business down in Fulton Street, and I have oftentimes known of his not going to his place of business more than two hours a week, and spending eighteen or twenty hours a day down in the slums of New York city, seeking the perishing. Finally, he turned his back on the business altogether, capitalised it, and gave his whole time and strength to going up and down the world, telling lost men and women about Jesus Christ. He is upwards of seventy years of age — the youngest seventy-year-old man I know. God has used him to lift thousands of men and women from the deepest depths of sin to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Now, I am going to ask you a question. In the light of eternity, in the light of that great judgment day to which we are all hurrying, which of these two men made the best use of his time, his talents, his money — the man who devoted his entire energies to saving four million dollars, and then left it all and died, went down to eternity a pauper, or the man who devoted his strength to saving thousands of souls, who will meet and welcome him in a glorious eternity?

The second word — DEATH. " Shall save a soul from death." Oh, men and women, that word death is one of the most awful words in our language. People in our day, poets and theologians, try to paint death in fair colours. There is nothing fair about death. Death is a hideous thing, death is a horrid thing, death is an appalling thing, death is our enemy. Thank God, for the Christian it is a conquered enemy, for Jesus Christ has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel. But death itself is an appalling thing. Now, listen. When you go to a man, or woman, or child, and lead them to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, you have saved a soul from death. Remember, the death of the soul does not mean mere non-existence; death does not mean annihilation, death does not mean mere cessation of being; death does not mean mere non-existence any more than life in the New Testament means mere existence: Life means right existence, holy existence, God-like existence, the ennoblement and the glorification and the deification of existence, and death means just the opposite. Death means wrong existence, unholy existence, the corruption, and the defilement, and the debasement, and the shame, and the ignominy, and the ruin, and the despair of existence. When you and I lead a man or woman to Christ we save a soul from death.

Then look at that other word — save. That is one of the great words. Oh, you sometimes narrow it down and make it a very small sort of word, but as it is used in the Bible the word " save " is one of the magnificent words. It means not merely to save from, but to save to, not merely to save from hell, but to save to glory, to save to holiness, to save to happiness, to save to heaven, to save to a knowledge of God, communion with God, likeness to God.

Suppose it were announced that I were to tell this afternoon, in Bingley Hall, to the business men of Birmingham, a process whereby they could go out through the streets of Birmingham and into your country roads, and stoop down in the mud and dirt of your streets and pick up common ordinary stones, and by the mysterious process of the lapidary, which I was to tell you here this afternoon, transform them into real diamonds of the very first quality. Suppose it had been announced that I was to do that this afternoon in Bingley Hall, and that the business men of Birmingham knew I really had such a process, do you think there would have been anybody in this meeting this afternoon? There would not have been seats enough in this building to accommodate the crowd of men that would have come. Men and women, I can tell you that very thing. I can tell you how to go out through the streets of Birmingham, out into your country roads, and to scoop down into the mud and dirt and mire of sin, and pick out the common, ordinary, rude stones of lost souls, and by the glorious art of the soul-winner transform them into diamonds worthy of a place in the Saviour's eternal diadem. Don't you think that is worth while? Is anything else so well worth while?

Once more, soul-winning should be the business of life with every Christian because it is the work that brings the most abundant reward. There is another verse which I wish might sink into your heart. It is Dan. xii. 3, " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." Some people want to shine down here. Men and women, it is not worth while. The brightest star in any earthly galaxy will soon fade. The brightest star in the financial firmament, the brightest star in the political firmament, the brightest star in the social firmament, bow long will they shine? Only a few years, and then they will go out for ever. The brightest star in our political firmament about three years ago, at this time, a star that shone with absolutely unrivalled splendour, a man about whom the world was speaking and beginning to couple his name with the names of America's greatest statesmen, with the names of Washington and Lincoln — one dark night that star was snuffed out by the crack of the revolver of a half-crazy anarchist, and to-day that great statesman is practically forgotten. In America almost no one ever speaks about McKinley to-day. You can look through our papers day after day and never see his name. It is all Roosevelt now; it used to be all McKinley. Ten years from now it will all be somebody else. It is so here in England. You go through your English papers to-day. It is all Chamberlain now. Ten years from now Chamberlain will be practically forgotten. It don't pay to shine down here. It does pay to shine up there. They that shine up there shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. Men and women, we could not, most of us, shine down here if we wanted to, but thank God, there is not one of us who can't shine up there. There is only one way to shine up there, and that is by saving the lost, by bringing them to a saving knowledge of Christ.

Before I close I must tell you a story. This incident is so remarkable that when I first heard it it seemed to me that it could not possibly be true. Yet the man that told it was of such a character that I felt that it must be true because he told it, and yet I said, " I must find out for myself whether that story is true or not." So I went to the librarian of the university where the incident was said to have occurred and I found out that it was true. The story as I tell it to you to-day is as I got it from the brother of the main actor in the scene. The story is this: About twelve miles from where I live, twelve miles from the city of Chicago, is the suburb of Evanston, where there is a large Methodist university, I think the largest university of the Methodist denomination in America; at all events, a very great university. Years ago, before the college had blossomed into a great university, there were many students in it, and among them two young country boys from the State of Iowa — strong vigorous fellows, and one of them was a famous swimmer. Early one morning word came to the college that down on Lake Michigan, just off the shores of Evanston, there was a wreck. It proved to be the Lady Elgin. The college boys with everybody in town hurried down to the shores of Lake Michigan. Off yonder in the distance they saw the Lady Elgin going to pieces. Ed. Spencer, this famous swimmer, threw off all his superfluous garments, tied a rope round his waist, threw one end to his comrades on the shore, sprang into Lake Michigan, swam out to the wreck, grasped one that was drowning and gave the sign to be pulled ashore. And again, and again, and again he swam out and grasped a drowning man or woman and brought them safe to shore, until he had brought to shore a seventh, an eighth, a ninth, and a tenth. Then he was utterly exhausted. They had built a fire of logs upon the sand. He went and stood by the fire of logs that cold bleak morning, blue, pinched, trembling, hardly able to stand. He stood before that fire trying to get a little warmth into his perishing members. As he stood there he turned and looked round on Lake Michigan, and off in the distance, near the Lady Elgin, he saw men and women still struggling in the water. He said, " Boys, I am going in again." " No, no, Ed.," they cried, " it is utterly vain to try; you have used up all your strength, you could not save anybody; for you to jump into the lake will simply mean for you to commit suicide." " Well," he said, " boys, they are drowning, and I will try, anyhow." And he started to the shore of the lake. His companions cried, " No, no, Ed., no, don't try." He said, "I will," and he jumped into Lake Michigan and battled out against the waves, and got hold of a drowning man that was struggling in the water. And again, and again, and again, until he had brought an eleventh, a twelfth, a thirteenth, a fourteenth, and a fifteenth safe to shore. Then they pulled him in through the breakers. He could scarcely get to the fire on the beach, and there, trembling, he stood before that fire trying to get a little warmth into his shivering limbs. As they looked at him it seemed as if the hand of death was already upon him. Then he turned away from the fire again, and looked over the lake, and as he looked away off yonder in the distance he saw a spar rising and falling upon the waves. He looked at it with his keen eye, and saw a man's head above the spar. He said, " Boys, there's a man trying to save himself." He looked again and saw a woman's head beside the man's. He said, " Boys, there's a man trying to save his wife." He watched the spar as it drifted toward the point. He knew that to drift around that point meant certain death. He said, "Boys, I am going to help him." "No, no, Ed.," they cried, " you can't help him. Your strength is all gone." He said, " I will try, anyway." He sprang into Lake Michigan, swam out wearily toward the spar, and reaching it he put his hands upon the spar, summoned all his dying strength, and brought that spar around the right end of the point to safety. Then they pulled him in through the breakers, and loving hands lifted him from the beach and carried him to his room up in the college. They laid him upon his bed, made a fire in the grate, and his brother Will remained by to watch him, for he was becoming delirious. As the day passed on Will Spencer sat by the fire. Suddenly Will heard a gentle footfall behind him, felt some one touch him on the back; he looked up and there stood Ed. looking wistfully down into his face. He said, "What is it, Ed.?" He said, "Will, did I do my best? " " Why, Ed.," he said, " you saved seventeen." He said, " I know that, but I was afraid I didn't do my very best. Will, do you think I did my very best? " Will took him back to bed and laid him upon it, and sat down by his side. As the night passed, I am told, Ed. went into semi-delirium, and Will sat by the bed and held his hand and tried to calm him in his delirium. All that he thought about were the men and women that perished that day, for with all his bravery many went down to a watery grave. Will sat there and held Ed.'s hand, and tried to calm him. " Ed." he said, " you saved seventeen." He said, " I know it, Will, I know it; but oh, if I could only have saved just one more."

Men and women of Birmingham, you and I stand this afternoon beside a stormy sea. Oh, as we look out at this tossing sea of life round about us on every hand there are wrecks. Will you and I sit here calmly while they are going down, going down, going down, going down to a hopeless eternity!

Men and women, let us plunge in again and again and again and again, until every last ounce of strength is gone, and when at last in sheer exhaustion we fall upon the shore in the earnestness of our love for perishing men, let us cry, " Oh, if I could only save just one more."