Excerpts from “A Solemn Warning for All Churches”

 By C. H. Spurgeon
Preached February 24, 1856
New Park Street Chapel, Southwark, England

“Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not defiled their garments; and they shall walk with me in white: for they are worthy.”
—Revelation 3:4

The first charge our Lord brings against the church in Sardis is this: there was much outward profession, but little inward life. That is the crying sin of every age—and especially of our own.

As I travel through this land, I am driven to a sorrowful conclusion: multitudes in the churches have “a name to live, and are dead.” You can scarcely meet a man who does not call himself a Christian, yet it is equally difficult to find one whose whole being is truly sanctified to the work of God’s kingdom. It is as though the entire nation became Christian in a single hour. But is it real? Is it sincere? Alas, we fear it is not.

Why is there so little difference between the church and the world? Why do men who make lofty professions live in the same pleasures, pursue the same ambitions, adopt the same customs, and act from the same motives as the ungodly? Are these not the days when the sons of God have made alliance with the sons of men?

Look at the churches as a whole. There is no lack of names—but there is a dreadful lack of life. Otherwise, why are prayer meetings so poorly attended? Where is the zeal of the apostles? Where is the power of the Holy Spirit? Has He departed? Might not the word Ichabod—“the glory has departed”—be written over many sanctuaries?

They have a reputation for piety—but where is sincere religion? Where is practical godliness? We have an abundance of cold, calculating Christians and countless professors of faith, but where are the zealous ones? Where are the leaders of God’s people? Where are the men who stand firm in the day of battle, who “count not their lives dear” that they might win Christ? Where are those with a burning love for souls?

Look at the church today. She has built herself fine palaces and imitated Rome. She has clothed herself in vestments and abandoned simplicity. She has gained beauty—but lost power. We enter our chapels and find tasteful buildings, skilled music, dignified robes, and polished worship—and we suppose God must be honored. But what use is a decorated shell when the kernel is gone? Whitewash the tomb if you must, but the life has departed.

The Word of God is withheld. Ministers hesitate to declare the whole truth, or if they speak it at all, they do so coldly and without urgency—as though it mattered little whether souls were saved or damned, whether heaven were filled or emptied, or whether Christ should see the fruit of His suffering and be satisfied.

Do I speak too sharply? I speak what I believe to be the truth. The church has lost her zeal and her energy. And what is said of those who cry out? “You are too excited.” Excited—when men are perishing? Excited—when we bear the message of heaven to dying souls? Excited—when eternity is at stake?

No! There must be a protest, and we make it now.

O Church of God, you have a name to live, and are dead. Awake! Rise from your slumber, and Christ shall give you light.

And what of shepherds today? Do they seek the wounded? Do they care for weary souls? Do they nurture the lambs and tend the distressed conscience? Sadly, the truly born-again people of God are often despised. They are labeled peculiar, mocked as extremists, accused of narrow-mindedness, and condemned as rigid Calvinists.

God’s gospel is called harsh. The doctrines for which our fathers bled are now treated as shameful. Stand firmly for truth, and you will be scorned. Love the whole truth of God, and you will be called an Antinomian.

Yet turn to the Puritans—these truths were preached daily. Read Augustine—he would have died for them. Read the Scriptures—and if these doctrines are not written on every page, then neither I nor any child of God has read them rightly.

Doctrinal looseness is the great sin of our age. Today we tolerate Arminianism. Tomorrow it becomes Pelagianism. After that—Rome. Error always moves downhill.

O Church of the living God, awake! Write truth again upon your banner. Stamp it upon your sword. Charge forward for God and His Word.

And yet, hear this comfort: there are still a few in Sardis. God has not abandoned His remnant. There are faithful ministers, praying saints, courageous deacons, and young believers standing firm amid temptation. Some heroes have not fled the battlefield.

Take heart. It is not all corrupt. There remains “a remnant according to the election of grace.”

Therefore, pray earnestly. Cry to God to purify His church, to refine her through fire, to restore her glory. Plead for the removal of darkness and the return of truth to Zion.

And finally, I plead with you—examine yourselves. Search your hearts before a God who tries the reins. It is no small matter I urge upon you. The higher the profession, the greater the fall if it proves false.

There are only a few names in Sardis who shall walk in white. Be among that few. May God grant you grace to stand, mercy to endure, and faith to be found among the wheat when the chaff is burned.

May the Lord bless this warning for Christ’s sake.
Amen.