The Soul's Malady and Cure

Luke 5:31 — They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.

The occasion of the words is set down in the context; Levi was called from the tax collector's table. Christ called him, and there went out power with the word — Levi left all, rose up, and followed him (verse 28). Levi did not consult with flesh and blood; he did not say: what shall I do for my salary? How shall I live? I will lose many a sweet deal at the custom house — and besides, if I follow Christ I must espouse persecution. He does not reason thus; but having a call, he hastens after Christ. And to give Christ a pledge of his love, he makes him a feast (verse 29): Levi made him a great feast in his own house. Christ always came with his cost; Levi feasted Christ with his provisions, and Christ feasted him with salvation. Well, Christ being at this feast, the Pharisees begin to murmur (verse 30): why do you eat and drink with tax collectors? The Pharisees were offended that he went in and ate with tax collectors, who were counted the worst of sinners. They also accused Christ: why do you eat with tax collectors and sinners? Malice will never lack matter for accusation. Though the demons proclaimed Christ's holiness (Luke 4:34): I know who you are, the Holy One of God — yet the Pharisees taxed him for a sinner. See what malice will do: it will make a man say what even the devil will not say. If Christ who was a lamb without spot could not escape the world's censures, no wonder if his people are loaded with the slanders of the wicked.

But let us examine the charge they bring against Christ and see how groundless it was. They indicted Christ for going in with sinners.

First, Christ did nothing but what was according to his commission; the commission he received from his Father was that he should come to save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).

Second, Christ went in with sinners not to join them in their sins, but to heal them of their sins. To accuse Christ was — as Augustine says — like accusing a physician because he goes among those sick with the plague. This groundless accusation Christ overhears, and in the text gives these envious Pharisees a silencing answer: they that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. As if Christ had said: you Pharisees think yourselves righteous — you need no Savior. But these poor tax collectors are sick and ready to die, and I come as a physician to cure them. Therefore do not be angry at a work of mercy; though you will not be healed, do not hinder me from healing others.

In the words there are two general parts.

First, the dying patients. Second, the healing physician.

First, the dying patients — them that are sick. Observe:

Sin is a soul-disease (Psalm 103:8; Isaiah 53:4): he has borne our griefs — in the Hebrew: our sicknesses. Man at first was created in a healthy condition; he had no sickness of soul, he suffered nothing. The soul had its perfect beauty and glory; the eye was clear, the heart pure, the affections tuned by the finger of God into a most sweet harmony. God made man upright (Ecclesiastes 7:29), but Adam by eating the apple fell sick, and would have died forever had not God found a way for his recovery. For the amplification of this doctrine, there are three things to be considered.

First, in what sense sin is compared to sickness. Second, what the diseases of the soul are. Third, that sin-sickness is the worst.

In what sense sin is compared to sickness.

Sin may be compared to sickness in the manner of catching.

Sickness is caught often through carelessness; some get cold by leaving off clothing. So when Adam grew careless of God's command and laid aside the garment of his innocency, he caught a sickness. His sin turned the world, which was a paradise, into a hospital.

Sickness is caught sometimes through excess and intemperance. When our first parents lost the golden restraint of temperance and ate of the forbidden tree, they and all their descendants fell into sickness. The tree of knowledge had sickness and death under its leaves. We all grew desperately sick by eating of this tree. Adam's excess has brought us to fasting and weeping. Besides that disease caught at first through inheritance, we have added to it by our own personal transgressions. We have increased our sickness — therefore sinners are said to grow worse and worse (2 Timothy 3:13).

Sin may be compared to sickness for its nature. Sickness is of a spreading nature; it spreads all over the body, working into every part, disordering the whole. So sin does not rest in one part but spreads into all the faculties of the soul and members of the body (Isaiah 1:5-6): the whole head is sick, the whole heart is faint; from the sole of the foot to the head there is no soundness in it, but wounds and bruises and open sores.

Sin corrupts the understanding; Gregory Nazianzene calls the understanding the lamp of reason, and this lamp burns dim (Ephesians 4:18): having their understanding darkened. Sin has drawn a veil over the understanding, casting a mist before our eyes, so that we neither know God nor ourselves. Naturally we are only wise to do evil (Jeremiah 4:22); witty at sin, wise to damn ourselves. The understanding is defiled (1 Corinthians 2:14); we can no more judge of spiritual objects until the Spirit anoints our eyes than a blind man can judge of colors. Our understandings are subject to mistakes; we call evil good and good evil (Isaiah 5:20). A straight stick under water appears crooked; so to a natural understanding the straight line of truth appears crooked.

The memory is diseased; the memory at first was like a golden cabinet in which divine truths were safely kept. But now it is like a colander or leaking vessel which lets all that is good run out. The memory is like a sieve that sifts out the fine flour but keeps the bran. So the memory lets saving truths go and holds nothing but froth and vanity. Many a person can remember a story when he has forgotten his creed. The memory is like a bad stomach that lacks the power to retain food — all the meat comes up again. So the most precious truths will not stay in the memory, but are gone again.

The will is diseased; the will is the soul's commander in chief, the master wheel. But how irregular and erratic it is! In creation the will was like the golden restraint that was said to guide and rule the winged horse; it answered to God's will. This was the language of the will in innocency: I delight to do your will, O God (Psalm 40:8). But now it is distempered; it is like an iron sinew that refuses to yield and bend to God (Isaiah 48:4). You will not come to me that you may have life (John 5:40). People will rather die than come to their physician. The will is a rebel against God (Acts 7:51): you always resist the Holy Spirit. The will is diseased.

The affections are sick.

First, the affection of desire; a sick person desires what is harmful for him — he calls for wine in a fever. So the natural person being sick desires what is harmful; he has no desire after Christ, does not hunger and thirst after righteousness. But he desires poison — he desires to take his fill of sin; he loves death (Proverbs 8:36).

Second, the affection of grief; a person grieves for the loss of an estate but not for the lack of God's favor. He grieves to see the plague or cancer in his body, but not for the plague of his heart.

Third, the affection of joy; many can rejoice in a wedge of gold but not in the cross of Christ. The affections are sick and disordered.

The conscience is diseased (Titus 1:15): their mind and conscience is defiled. Conscience is either erroneous — binding to what is sinful (Acts 26:9): I truly thought I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus. Or it is dumb — it will not tell people of sin; it is a silenced preacher. Or it is dead (Ephesians 4:19): conscience is deadened and insensible; the habit of sinning has taken away the sense of sinning. Thus the sickness of sin has gone over the whole soul, like that cloud which overspread the face of the heavens (1 Kings 18:45).

Sickness debilitates and weakens the body; a sick person is unfit to walk. So this sickness of sin weakens the soul (Romans 5:6): when we were without strength Christ died. In innocency Adam was in some sense like the angels — he could serve God with winged swiftness and filial cheerfulness. But sin brought sickness into the soul, cutting the source of his strength; he is now stripped of all ability for service. And where grace has begun to work, though a Christian is not as ill as before, yet he is very faint. When we find ourselves dead in duty, our holy affections languishing, think thus: this is my sickness; sin has made me weak. As Jephthah said to his daughter (Judges 11:35): alas, my daughter, you have brought me very low. So may the soul say: alas, my sin, you have brought me very low, almost to the gates of death.

Sickness eclipses the beauty of the body (Psalm 39:11): when you with rebukes correct man, you make his beauty consume away like a moth. Thus sin is a soul-sickness; it has eclipsed the glory of the soul, turning radiance into paleness. That beauty of grace which once sparkled as gold — how is this gold become dim! The soul which once had a brilliant brightness in it, with the understanding spangled with knowledge, the will crowned with liberty, the affections like so many seraphs burning in love to God — now the glory is departed. Sin has turned beauty into deformity. As some faces by sickness are so disfigured they can hardly be recognized; so the soul of man is by sin so sadly transformed — having lost the image of God — that it can hardly be recognized (Joel 2:31). Sin has turned that sun of beauty which shone in the soul into a Cimmerian darkness.

Sickness takes away the taste; a sick person does not taste sweetness in his food. So the sinner by reason of soul-sickness has lost his taste for spiritual things. The word of God is bread to strengthen and wine to comfort; but the sinner tastes no sweetness in the word. A child of God who has been made spiritual by grace tastes a savoring in ordinances — the promise drops as a honeycomb (Psalm 19:10). But a natural person is sick and his taste is gone; since tasting the forbidden tree, he has lost his taste.

Sickness takes away the comfort of life; a sick person has no joy in anything; his life is a burden to him. So the sin-sick soul is empty of all true comfort, and his laughter is but the pleasant dream of a sick person. He has no true title to comfort; his sin is not pardoned — he may be in hell before night for all he knows.

Sickness ushers in death; it is the prologue to death. Sickness is as it were the cutting of the tree, and death is the falling of the tree. So this disease of sin, if not cured in time, brings the second death.

What the diseases of the soul are. Adam by breaking the vessel of original righteousness has filled the soul full of diseases. The body is not subject to as many diseases as the soul. Pride is the swelling tumor of the soul; lust is the fever; error the gangrene; unbelief the plague of the heart; hypocrisy the scurvy; hardness of heart the stone; anger the frenzy; malice the wolf in the breast; covetousness the dropsy; spiritual sloth the wasting sickness; apostasy the seizure. Here are eleven soul-diseases, and when they reach their full height, they are dangerous and most frequently prove fatal.

The third thing to demonstrate is that sin is the worst sickness. To have a body full of plague sores is sad; but to have the soul spotted with sin is far worse; as appears in these considerations.

The body may be diseased and the conscience quiet (Isaiah 33:24): the inhabitant shall not say I am sick — he would scarcely feel his sickness because sin was pardoned. But when the soul is sick of any reigning lust, the conscience is troubled (Isaiah 57:21): there is no peace to the wicked, says my God. When Francis Spira had renounced his former faith, his conscience burned as hell, and no spiritual medicine that ministers applied could ever allay that inflammation.

A person may have bodily diseases yet God may love him. Asa was diseased in his feet and had the gout, yet was a favorite with God (2 Kings 15:23). God's hand may go out against a person, yet his heart may be toward him. But soul-diseases are symptoms of God's anger; as he is a holy God, he cannot but hate sin (Psalm 138:6): God beholds the proud from afar. God hates a sinner for his plague-sores (Zechariah 11:8): my soul loathed them.

Sickness at worst only separates from the society of friends; but this disease of sin, if not cured, separates from the society of God and angels. The leper was to be shut out of the camp; this leprosy of sin without the interposition of mercy shuts people out of the camp of heaven (Revelation 21:8). This is the misery of those who die in their sins — they are cut off from God's presence forever, in whose presence is fullness of joy.

See into what a sad condition sin has brought us; it has made us desperately sick. O how many sick, bedridden souls there are in the world — sick with pride, sick with lust! Sin has turned our houses and churches into hospitals, full of sick persons. What David's enemies said reproachfully of him is true of every natural person (Psalm 41:8): an evil disease clings to him. He has the plague of the heart (1 Kings 8). Even those who have been renewed are cured only in part; they have some lingering of the disease, some stirrings of corruption. From this sin-sickness arises all other diseases: plague, gout, stone, fever (1 Corinthians 11:29-30): for this cause many are weak and sickly among you.

If sin is a soul-sickness, then how foolish are those who hide their sins! It is folly to hide a disease. The wicked take more care to have sin covered than cured; if they can but sin in private and not be suspected, they think all is well. But there is a curse on him who puts sin in a secret place (Deuteronomy 27:15). The hiding and concealing of a disease proves fatal (Proverbs 28:13): he who covers his sins shall not prosper.

If sin is a soul-sickness, then what need there is of the ministry! Ministers are physicians under God to cure sick souls (Ephesians 4:11); they are a college of physicians. Their work is to find out diseases and apply medicines; it is a hard work. While ministers are curing others, they themselves are often near unto death (Philippians 2:30). They find their people sick with various diseases — some poisoned with error, some surfeited with love of the world, some stabbed at the heart with gross sin. How hard it is to heal all these gangrenous souls! Many ministers sooner wear themselves out by preaching than cure their patients. But though the work of the ministry is laborious, it is needful; while there are sick souls, there will be need of spiritual physicians. How unworthy then are those who malign and persecute the ministers of God (1 Corinthians 4:9)! Would it not be cruelty and barbarism if there were a law that all physicians should be banished from the land? And is it not worse to see multitudes of sick souls lying and bleeding, with their spiritual physicians removed from them? This is a wrath-provoking sin (2 Chronicles 36:16): they abused his prophets until the wrath of the Lord arose against his people, until there was no remedy. The Lord will wither that arm which is stretched out against his prophets.

If sin is a soul-disease, let this serve to humble us. If any consideration will humble, this may; sin is a soul-disease. If a woman had a fair face but a cancer in her breast, it would keep her from being proud of her beauty. So Christian, though you are endued with knowledge and morality which are fair to look upon, remember you are diseased in your soul — here is a cancer in the breast to humble you. This is certainly one reason why God leaves sin in his own children: that the sight of their sores may make their plumes of pride fall. There are two humbling sights: a sight of God's glory, and a sight of our diseases. Though the saints have their golden graces, yet they have their leprous spots. Since sin has made us vile, let it make us humble; since it has taken away our beauty, let it take away our pride. Christians are never more lovely in God's eyes than when they are loathsome in their own. Those sins which humble shall never damn.

If sin is a soul-disease, and the most damnable disease, let us be afraid of it. Had we diseases in our bodies — an ulcer in the lungs or a consuming fever — we would fear lest they should bring death. Fear sin-sickness lest it bring the second death. You who are a drunkard or a swearer, tremble at your soul-maladies. Why do not people fear sin? Why do they not shake with this disease? The reason is:

Stupidity; as they have the fever of sin, so they also have a lethargy (1 Timothy 4:2): having their conscience seared with a hot iron. He who has an unbelieving heart and a seared conscience — that person's case is desperate.

Presumption. Many fancy that they can treat the boil themselves; though they are sick, they can make themselves well. It is but saying a few prayers, but a sigh or a tear, and they shall presently recover. But is it so easy to be healed of sin? Is it easy to make old Adam bleed to death? Take heed of a spiritual lethargy; fear your disease lest it prove fatal. Physicians speak of a disease which makes people die laughing; so Satan tickles many with the pleasure of sin, and they die laughing.

If sin is a soul-distemper, then count as your best friends those who would reclaim you from your sins. The patient is thankful to the physician who tells him of his disease and uses means to recover him. When ministers tell you in love of your sins and would reclaim you, take it in good part; the worst they intend is to cure you of your sickness. David was glad of a healing rebuke (Psalm 141:5): let the righteous smite me, it shall be a kindness. Ministers are charged by virtue of their office to reprove (2 Timothy 4:2). They must come with cutting medicines as well as soothing ones (Titus 1:13): rebuke them sharply that they may be sound in the faith. The word is cutting — as a surgeon searches a wound and then lances and cuts out the gangrenous flesh. So must the ministers of Christ rebuke sharply in order to save their dying patients. Who is angry with the physician for prescribing a bitter medicine? Why should anyone be angry with Christ's ministers for reproving, when by their office they are physicians and by their love they are fathers? But how few are they who will take a reproof kindly (Amos 5:10): they hate him who rebukes in the gate.

People do not love reproof because they are in love with their sins; a strange thing that anyone should love their disease, but so it is (Proverbs 1:22). Sin is the poison of the soul, yet people love it; and he who loves his sin hates a reproof.

Sin possesses people with a kind of madness (Luke 15:7); people are mad in sin (Jeremiah 50:38). When sickness grows so violent that people lie raving and are mad, they quarrel with their physician and say he comes to kill them. So when sin grows to a head and the disease turns to frenzy, then people quarrel with those who tell them of their sins. It argues wisdom to receive a reproof (Proverbs 9:8): rebuke a wise man and he will love you. A wise person would rather drink a sharp medicine than die of his disease.

If sin is a soul-sickness, do not feed this disease. He who is wise will avoid those things that increase his disease. If he has a fever, he avoids wine which would inflame it; if he has the stone, he avoids salty food. Why should not people be as wise for their souls? You who have a drunken lust, do not feed it with wine; you who have a malicious lust, do not feed it with revenge. You who have an unclean lust, make no provision for the flesh (Romans 13:14). He who feeds a disease feeds an enemy. Either kill your sin, or your sin will kill you.

If sin is a soul-disease, then labor to be sensible of this disease. There are few who are sensible of their soul-sickness; they think they are well and suffer nothing. The church of Laodicea was a sick patient, but she thought she was well (Revelation 3:17): you say I am rich and have need of nothing. Come to many a person and ask about the state of their soul, and they will say they have a good heart and do not doubt they shall be saved. What should be the reason that when people are so desperately sick in their souls and ready to drop into hell, they yet imagine themselves to be in a very good condition?

There is a spiritual film upon their eye; they do not see their sores. Laodicea thought herself rich because she was blind (Revelation 3:17). The god of this world blinds people's eyes so that they can neither see their disease nor their physician. Many bless God their condition is good, not from the knowledge of their happiness, but from ignorance of their danger. When Haman's face was covered, he was near execution. Pray with David: lighten my eyes that I sleep not the sleep of death (Psalm 13:3).

People who are sick think themselves well because of the haughtiness of their spirits. Alexander thought himself for a while to be the son of Jupiter and no less than a god. What an arrogant creature is man! Though he is sick unto death, he thinks it too great a humiliation to acknowledge a disease. Either he is not sick, or he can heal himself. If he is poisoned, he runs to the herb of his own righteousness to cure him (Romans 10:3).

People who are sick imagine themselves well through self-love. He who loves another will not believe any evil report of him. People are self-lovers (2 Timothy 3:2); every man is a dove in his own eyes. Therefore he does not suspect himself of any disease; he will sooner question the Scripture's truth than his own malady.

Self-deceit and the deceit of the heart appears in two things.

In hiding the disease; the heart hides sin as Rachel hid her father's idols (Genesis 31:34). Hazael did not think he was as sick as he was; he could not imagine that so much wickedness lay lurking in him (2 Kings 8:13): is your servant a dog that he should do this great thing? As the viper has his teeth hidden in his gums, so though there is much corruption in the heart, yet the heart hides it and draws a veil over it.

The heart holds a false mirror before the eye, making a person appear fair and his condition very good. The heart can deceive with counterfeit grace. Hence it is that people are insensible of their spiritual condition and think themselves well when they are sick unto death.

People take up an exalted opinion of themselves and fancy their spiritual condition better than it is through mistake, and this mistake is twofold.

They enjoy glorious privileges; they were born within the sound of the church bells, they were baptized, they have been fed with the bread of heaven. Therefore they hope they are in a good condition (Judges 17:13): then said Micah, now I know the Lord will do me good, seeing I have a Levite as my priest. But this is a mistake; outward privileges do not save. What is anyone the better for ordinances unless he is better by ordinances? A child may die with the breast in its mouth. Many of the Jews perished though Christ himself was their preacher.

The other mistake is described by the apostle (2 Corinthians 10:12): they measuring themselves by themselves and comparing themselves among themselves are not wise. Here is a double error.

They measure themselves by themselves; that is, they see they are not as bad as they were, therefore they judge their condition is good. A dwarf may be taller than he was, yet still a dwarf. The patient may be less sick than he was, yet far from well. A person may be better than he was, yet not good.

They compare themselves among themselves; they see they are not as wicked and profane as others, therefore they think themselves well because they are not as sick as others. This is a mistake; one may as well die of a consumption as of the plague. One man may not be as far from heaven as another, yet may not be near heaven. To the law, to the testimony; the word of God is the true standard by which we are to judge of the state of our souls.

Let us take heed of this danger — fancying our condition better than it is. Let us take heed of a spiritual numbness — being sick in our souls yet not sensible of this sickness. What do people talk of a light within them? The natural light within them is not sufficient to show them the diseases of their souls; this light tells them they are whole and have no need of a physician.

What an infinite mercy it is for a person to be made sensible of sin, and seeing himself sick, to cry out with David: I have sinned against the Lord (2 Samuel 12:13). Were it not a mercy for a person who is deranged to be restored to the use of his reason? So for him who is spiritually distempered and in a lethargy to come to himself and see both his wound and his remedy! Until the sinner is made sensible of his disease, the medicine of mercy does not belong to him.

If sin is a soul-sickness, then labor to get this disease healed. If a person had a disease in his body — a pleurisy or cancer — he would use all means for a cure. The woman in the gospel who had a bleeding disease spent her whole estate upon the physicians (Luke 8:43). Be more earnest to have your soul cured than your body. Make David's prayer (Psalm 41:4): heal my soul, for I have sinned. Do you have a wasting body? Pray even more to God to heal the consumption in your soul. Go to God first for the cure of your soul (James 5:14): is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church and let them pray over him. The apostle does not say: let him call for the physician; but the elders — that is, the ministers. Most people send first for the physician and then for the minister, showing they are more concerned for the recovery of their bodies than their souls. But if soul-diseases are more dangerous and deadly, then we should prefer the spiritual cure before the bodily. Heal my soul, for I have sinned.

Until we are cured, we are not fit to do God any service. A sick person cannot work; while the disease of sin is violent, we are not fit for any heavenly employment. We can neither work for God nor work out our own salvation. So long as we are diseased with sin, we are lame and bedridden, unfit for work. We read indeed of a sinner's works, but they are dead works (Hebrews 6:1).

If we are not cured, we are under a curse; if our disease remains upon us, the wrath of God remains upon us.

But how shall we get this disease of sin cured? This brings us to the second part of the text — the healing physician: they that are whole need not a physician.

Jesus Christ is a soul-physician. Ministers are physicians, whom Christ in his name sends abroad into the world. He says to the apostles, and through them to all his ministers: Lo, I am with you always to the end of the world (Matthew 28:20). That is: I am with you to assist and bless you, and to make your ministry healing. But though ministers are physicians, they are only under-physicians. Jesus Christ is the chief physician. He it is who teaches us all our prescriptions and goes forth with our labors — else the medicine we prescribe would never work. All the ministers under heaven would not accomplish any cure without the help of this great physician. I shall show: first, that Christ is a physician; second, why he is a physician; third, that he is the only physician; fourth, how he heals his patients; fifth, that he is the best physician.

That Christ is a physician — it is one of his titles (Exodus 15:26): I am the Lord who heals you. He is a physician for the body; he anointed the blind, cleansed the lepers, healed the sick, raised the dead (Matthew 8:16). He it is who puts virtue into medicine and makes it healing. And he is a physician for the soul (Psalm 147:3): he heals the brokenhearted. We are all as so many helpless, diseased persons. Christ is a soul-physician who heals these diseases. To set forth his healing virtue, Christ is compared in Scripture to the following:

The bronze serpent (Numbers 21:9): those who were stung were cured by looking on the bronze serpent. So when the soul is stung by the old serpent, it is cured by looking to Christ.

The good Samaritan (Luke 10:33-34): a certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thieves, which stripped him and wounded him and departed, leaving him half dead. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was, and when he saw him had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in wine and oil. We have wounded ourselves by sin, and the wound would have been incurable, had not Christ that good Samaritan poured in wine and oil.

The trees of the sanctuary (Ezekiel 47:12): the fruit thereof shall be for food, and the leaf thereof for medicine. Thus the Lord Jesus, that tree of life in paradise, has a healing virtue; he heals our pride, unbelief, and more. As he feeds our graces, so he heals our corruptions.

Why Christ is a physician.

In regard to his calling; God the Father called him to practice as a physician; he anointed him to the work of healing (Luke 4:18): the Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach the good news; he has sent me to heal the brokenhearted. Christ came into the world as into a hospital to heal sin-sick souls. Though it was a glorious work, yet Christ would not undertake it until he was commissioned by his Father. Christ was anointed and appointed to the work of a physician — this is for our imitation. We are not to meddle in any matters without a calling; that is acting outside our sphere.

Jesus Christ undertook this healing work because of the need we were in of a physician. Christ came to be our physician not because we deserved him, but because we needed him. Not our merit but our misery drew Christ from heaven. Had he not come, we must have perished and died of our wounds. Our disease was not ordinary — it had seized on every part; it made us not only sick, but dead. And such remedies were required as none but Christ could give.

Christ came as a physician out of the sweetness of his nature; he is like the good Samaritan who had compassion on the wounded man (Luke 10:33). A physician may come to the patient only for gain — not so much to help the patient as to help himself. But Christ came purely out of sympathy; there was nothing in us to tempt Christ to heal us. As sin made us sick, so it made us poor; so Christ came as a physician not out of hope to receive anything from us, but prompted by his own goodness. I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely (Hosea 14:4). Love set Christ to work — not only his Father's commission, but his own compassion moved him.

The third particular is that Christ is the only physician. Acts 4:12: Neither is there salvation in any other. Not many physicians but one will suffice. The Roman church would have other healers besides Christ; they would make angels their physicians. But all the angels in heaven cannot heal one sick soul; they are indeed described by their wings (Isaiah 6:2), but they have no healing under their wings. The Roman church would also have people heal themselves by their own merits. Adam ate that apple which made him and his descendants sick, but he could find no herb in paradise to cure him. Our merits are rather damning than healing. To make use of other physicians and medicines is as if the Israelites, in contempt of that bronze serpent Moses set up, had erected other bronze serpents. In bodily sickness it is lawful to seek multiple physicians; but the sick soul, if it joins any other physician with Christ, surely dies.

How Christ heals his patients.

There are four things in Christ that are healing.

His word is healing (Psalm 107:20): he sent his word and healed them. His word in the mouth of his ministers is healing; when the spirit is wounded in desertion, Christ creates lips that speak peace (Isaiah 57:19). The word written is a repository in which God has laid up sovereign oils and balsams to recover sick souls. The word preached is the pouring out of these oils and applying them to the sick patient. We look upon the word as a weak thing — what is the breath of a person to save a soul? But the power of the Lord is present to heal (Luke 5:17). Christ makes his word convincing, converting, comforting.

Caution: not that the word heals all; to some it is not a healing but a killing word (2 Corinthians 2:16): to the one we are a savor of death unto death. Two sorts of patients die of their disease.

Those who sin presumptuously — though they know a thing is sin, yet they will do it (Job 24:13): they are of those who rebel against the light. David prays (Psalm 19): keep back your servant from presumptuous sins.

Those who sin maliciously — when the disease comes to this point, the patient will die (Hebrews 10:29). But to those who belong to the election of grace, the word is the healing medicine Christ uses. He sent his word and healed them.

Christ's wounds are healing (Isaiah 53:5): with his stripes we are healed. Christ made a medicine of his own body and blood; the physician died to cure the patient. The pelican when her young ones are bitten by serpents feeds them with her own blood to recover them. Thus when we were bitten by the old serpent, Jesus Christ prescribes a receipt of his own blood to heal and restore us. Sanguis Christi salus Christiani. The blood of Christ, being the blood of one who was God as well as man, had infinite merit to appease God and infinite virtue to heal us. This, this is the balm of Gilead that recovers a soul which is sick even to death. Balm, as naturalists say, is a juice which a little shrub (being cut with glass) does weep out; this was anciently of very precious esteem — the savor of it was odoriferous, the virtue of it sovereign; it would cure ulcers and the stinging of serpents. This balm may be an emblem of Christ's blood — it has a most sovereign virtue in it; it heals the ulcer of sin, the stinging of temptation; it merits for us justification (Romans 5:9). O how precious is this balm of Gilead! By this blood we enter into heaven.

Christ's Spirit is healing; the blood of Christ heals the guilt of sin; the Spirit of Christ heals the pollution of sin. The Spirit is compared to oil — the anointing of the Spirit (Isaiah 61) — showing the healing virtue of the Spirit; oil is healing. Christ by his Spirit heals the rebellion of the will, the stone of the heart. Though sin is not removed, it is subdued.

Christ's rod is healing (Isaiah 27:9); Christ never wounds but to heal. The rod of affliction is to recover the sick patient. David's bones were broken that his soul might be healed. God uses affliction as the surgeon uses his lance — to let out the venom and corruption of the soul and make way for a cure.

But if Christ is a physician, why are not all healed?

Because all do not know they are sick; they do not see the sores and ulcers of their souls. Will Christ cure those who see no need of him? Many ignorant people thank God they have good hearts; but that heart can no more be good which lacks grace than a body can be sound which lacks health.

All are not healed because they love their sickness (Psalm 52:3): you love evil. Many embrace their disease. Augustine says that before his conversion he prayed against sin, but his heart whispered: not yet, Lord. How many love their disease better than their physician! While sin is loved, Christ's medicines are loathed.

All are not healed because they do not seek a physician. If they have any bodily ailment, they presently send to the physician; but their souls are sick and they do not seek their physician Christ. You will not come to me that you may have life (John 5:40). Christ takes it as an undervaluing of him that we will not send to him. Christ refuses those patients who make use of him only as a last resort. You who scorn Christ in time of health — Christ may despise you in the time of sickness.

All are not healed because they would be self-healers; they would make their duties their saviors. The Roman church would have people be their own physicians. But Christ will have the honor of the cure, or he will never heal us. Not our tears, but his blood saves.

All are not healed because they do not take the medicine which Christ prescribes. They would be cured, but they are unwilling to put themselves into a course of treatment. Christ prescribes them to drink the bitter potion of repentance and take the pill of mortification, but they cannot endure this. They would rather die than take medicine. If the patient refuses to take the prescriptions the physician gives, no wonder he is not healed. Christians, you have had many prescriptions — have you taken them? Ask your conscience. There are many hearers of the word who are like foolish patients who send to the doctor for medicine, but when they have it, let the medicine stand by in the glass and do not take it. It is probable you have not taken the prescriptions the gospel gives, because the word has had no operation on your hearts — you are as proud, as worldly, as malicious as ever.

All are not healed because they have no confidence in their physician. When Christ came to work any cure, he first asked: do you believe that I am able to do this? (Matthew 9:28). This undoes many: O says the sinner, there is no mercy for me, Christ cannot heal me. Take heed — your unbelief is worse than all your other diseases. Did not Christ pray for those who crucified him: Father, forgive them? Some of those who had a hand in shedding his blood were saved! Why then do you say Christ cannot heal you? Unbelief dishonors Christ, hinders from a cure, closes the wounds of Christ. Millions die of their disease because they do not believe in their physician.

The fifth and last particular is that Christ is the best physician. To set forth the praise and honor of Jesus Christ, let me show you wherein he excels all other physicians.

He is the most skillful physician; there is no disease too hard for him (Psalm 103:3): who heals all your diseases. The pool of Bethesda might be an emblem of Christ's blood (John 5:4): whosoever first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. There are certain diseases physicians cannot cure — a consumption in the lungs, some kinds of obstructions and gangrenes; non est in medico semper relevetur ut ager; some diseases are opprobria medicorum, the reproaches of physicians. But there is no immedicabile vulnus — no disease can pose Christ's skill; he can cure the gangrene of sin when it is come to the heart. He healed Mary Magdalene, an unchaste sinner; he healed Paul who breathed out persecution against the church — insomuch that Paul stands and wonders at the cure (1 Timothy 1:13): I obtained mercy. Christ heals head-distempers and heart-distempers — which may keep poor trembling souls from despair. O says the sinner, never was any so diseased as I! But look up to your physician Christ, who has healing under his wings. He can melt a heart of stone and wash away black sins in the crimson of his blood; there are no desperate cases with Christ. Indeed, there is one disease which Christ does not heal — the sin against the Holy Ghost, called a sin unto death (1 John 5:16); there is no healing for this disease. Not that Christ could not cure this, but the sinner will not be cured; the king could pardon a traitor, but if he will have no pardon, he must die. The sin against the Holy Ghost is unpardonable because the sinner will have no pardon; he scorns Christ's blood, despites his Spirit, therefore his sin has no sacrifice (Hebrews 10:26-29).

Christ is the best physician because he cures the better part — the soul. Other physicians can cure the liver or spleen; Christ cures the heart. They can cure tainted blood; Christ cures the defiled conscience (Hebrews 9:14): how much more shall the blood of Christ purge your conscience from dead works? Galen and Hippocrates might cure the stone in the kidneys, but Christ cures the stone in the heart. He is the best physician who cures the more excellent part. The soul is immortal and angelic; man was made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27) not in regard of his body, but his soul. Since the soul is so divine and noble, the cure of the soul far exceeds the cure of the body.

Christ is the best physician because he causes us to feel our disease. The disease of sin, though most damnable, is least discernible. Many a person is sin-sick, but the devil has given him such deadening medicine that he sleeps the sleep of death, and all the thunders of the word cannot awaken him. But the Lord Jesus, this blessed physician, awakes the soul out of its lethargy, and then it is in a hopeful way of recovery. The jailor was never so near a cure as when he cried out: sirs, what must I do to be saved? (Acts 16:30)

Christ shows more love to his patients than any other physician; which appears in five ways.

In that long journey he took from heaven to earth.

In that he comes to his patients without being sent for. The sick send to their physicians and use many entreaties; here the physician comes unsent for. I am found of those who did not seek me (Isaiah 65:1). He prevents us with mercy; he entreats us to be healed. If Christ had not first come to us and like the good Samaritan poured in wine and oil, we must have died of our wounds.

This physician lets himself blood to cure his patient (Isaiah 53:5): but he was wounded for our transgressions — through his wounds we may see his heart.

Our rejections and unkindnesses do not drive Christ away from us. Physicians if provoked by their patients go away in a rage and will come no more. We abuse our physician, thrust him away, bolt him out. Yet Christ does not forsake us, but comes again and applies his sovereign oils and balsams. I have spread out my hands all the day to a rebellious people (Isaiah 65:2). Christ puts up wrongs and returns, resolved to go through with the cure. O the love of this heavenly physician!

Christ himself drank that bitter cup which we should have drunk, and by his taking the medicine we are healed and saved. Thus Christ has shown more love than any physician ever showed to a patient.

Christ is the most affordable physician; sickness is not only a consumption to the body but to the purse. Physicians' fees are burdensome, but Jesus Christ gives us our medicine freely without charge (Isaiah 55:1): come without money and without price. He desires us to bring nothing to him but broken hearts. And when he has cured us he desires nothing from us but our love — which would seem very reasonable.

Christ heals with more ease than any other; other physicians apply pills, potions, and bleeding. Christ cures with more facility — with a word. Christ made the demon go out with a word of speaking (Mark 9:25). So when the soul is spiritually oppressed, Christ can heal with a word. He can even cure with a look: when Peter had fallen into a relapse, Christ looked on Peter, and he wept. Christ's look melted Peter into repentance — it was a healing look. If Christ does but cast a look upon the soul, he can recover it. Therefore David prays for a look from God (Psalm 119:132): look upon me and be merciful to me.

Christ is the most tender-hearted physician. He has ended his passion, yet not his compassion. How he pities sick souls! He is not more full of skill than of sympathy (Hosea 11:8): my heart is turned within me. Christ shows his compassion in that he proportions his medicine to the strength of the patient. Medicine if it is too sharp for the constitution endangers life; Christ gives such gentle medicine as shall work kindly and savingly. Though he will press sinners, yet he will not break the bruised reed. O the movements of Christ's heart toward poor souls that feel themselves heartsick with sin! He holds their head and heart when they are fainting; he brings the cordials of his promises to keep the sick patient from dying away. Christians, you perhaps may have hard thoughts of your physician Christ and think he is cruel and intends to destroy you. But O the workings of his heart toward humble and broken-hearted sinners! Psalm 147:3: He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Every groan of the patient goes to the heart of this physician.

Physicians often prescribe medicine that is harmful to the patient in two cases: either in case they do not find out the cause of the disease, and then they may give what is contrary — hot things instead of cooling; or in case they do find out the cause, they may give what is good for one thing and bad for another. As it falls out when the liver and spleen are both distempered — the physic which helps the liver may hurt the spleen. But Christ always prescribes that physic which is suitable, and withal he blesses the physic. If the disease of the soul is pride, he humbles it with affliction; God turned Nebuchadnezzar to grass to cure him of his tympany. If the disease of the soul is sloth, Christ applies some awakening scripture (Matthew 12:11; Luke 13:24; 1 Peter 4:18). If the disease is the stone of the heart, Christ uses proper medicines — sometimes the terrors of the law, sometimes mercies, sometimes he dissolves the stone in his own blood. If the soul is fainting through unbelief, Christ brings some scripture cordial to revive it (Matthew 12:20): a bruised reed he will not break. Isaiah 57:16: I will not contend forever, neither will I be always wroth; for the spirit should fail before me, and the souls which I have made. Thus the Lord Jesus always prescribes that physic which is proper for the disease and shall work effectually to the cure.

Christ never fails of success. Physicians may have skill but not always success; patients often die under their hands. But Christ never undertakes to heal any but he makes a certain cure (John 17:12): those whom you gave me I have kept, and none of them is lost. Judas was not given to Christ to be healed; but never any who was given to Christ has perished.

How shall I know that I am given to Christ to be cured?

If it is with you as with a sick patient who sees himself dying without a physician — are you undone without Christ? Do you perceive yourself bleeding to death without the balm of Gilead? Then you are one of Christ's sick patients, and you shall never perish under his hands. How can any of those be lost whom Christ undertakes to cure? As he pours in the balm of his blood, so he pours out the perfume of his prayers for them (John 17:11): Holy Father, keep through your own name those whom you have given me. Satan could never charge Christ with losing any of his sick patients.

Other physicians can only cure those who are sick, but Christ cures those who are dead (Ephesians 2:1): you he has made alive who were dead in trespasses and sins. A sinner has all the signs of death on him; the pulse of his affections does not beat, he breathes not after holiness. But Christ is a physician for the dead; of everyone whom Christ cures it may be said: he was dead and is alive again (Luke 15:32).

Christ cures not only our diseases but our deformities. The physician can make the sick person well; but if he is deformed, he cannot make him fair. Christ gives not only health, but beauty. Sin has made us ugly and misshapen; Christ's medicines do not only take away our sickness, but our spots. He does not only make us whole, but fair (Hosea 14:4-6): I will heal their backsliding; his beauty shall be as the olive tree. Jesus Christ never thinks he has fully healed us until he has drawn his own beautiful image upon us. Christ does not only heal but adorn. He is called the Sun of Righteousness (Malachi 4:2) not only because of the healing under his wings, but because of those rays of beauty which he puts upon the soul.

Christ is the most generous physician. Other patients enrich their physicians, but here the physician enriches the patient. Christ promotes all his patients; he does not only cure them, but crown them (Revelation 2:10). Christ does not only raise from the bed, but to the throne; he gives the sick person not only health, but heaven.

Good news today: there is balm in Gilead; there is a physician to heal sin-sick souls. The angels that fell had no physician sent to them — we have. But the Sun of Righteousness is risen in our world, with healing in his wings. If a person were poisoned, what a comfort to hear there was an herb in the garden that could heal him! O sinner, you are full of corrupting humors, you have a gangrenous soul; but there is a physician who can recover you. Though there is an old serpent to sting us with his temptations, yet there is a bronze serpent to heal us with his blood.

If Christ is a physician, then let us make use of this physician for our diseased souls. When the sun was setting, all those who had sick with various diseases brought them to Jesus, and he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them (Luke 4:40). You who have neglected a physician all this while — now when the sun of the gospel and the sun of your life is even setting, bring your sick souls to Christ to be cured. Christ complains that though people are sick even to death, yet they will not come to the physician (John 5:40): you will not come to me that you might have life. In bodily diseases the physician is the first sought; in soul-diseases the physician is the last sought. But here there are many objections that poor souls make against coming to Christ their physician.

Objection one: I am discouraged from going to Christ to cure me because of my unworthiness. Just like the centurion who sent to Christ about his sick servant (Luke 7:6): Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof. So says many a trembling soul: Christ is a physician, but who am I that Christ should come under my roof or heal me! I am unworthy of mercy, as Mephibosheth said to King David (2 Samuel 9:8): what is your servant, that you should look upon such a dead dog as I am? To such as have their hearts broken with a sense of their unworthiness, and are discouraged from coming to Christ, let me say five things in reply.

Who did Christ shed his blood for but those who are unworthy (1 Timothy 1:15): Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. Christ came into the world as into a hospital, among a company of lame, bedridden souls.

Though we are not legally worthy, we may be evangelically worthy; it is part of our worthiness to see our unworthiness. Do not fear, you worm Jacob (Isaiah 41:14). You may be a worm in your own eyes, yet a dove in God's eyes.

Though we are unworthy, yet Christ is worthy. We do not deserve a cure, but Christ has merited mercy for us; he has store of blood to supply our lack of tears.

Who was ever yet saved because he was worthy? What worthiness was there in Paul before his conversion? What worthiness was there in Mary Magdalene, out of whom seven demons were cast? But free grace did pity and heal them. God does not find us worthy, but makes us worthy.

If we will never come to Christ to be healed until we are worthy, we must never come. And let me tell you, this talk of worthiness savors of pride — we would have something of our own. If we had such preparations and self-excellencies, then we think Christ would accept us; this is to pay our physician. Do not let the sense of unworthiness discourage; go to Christ to be healed (Mark 10:49): arise, he calls you.

Objection two: I fear I am not within Christ's commission — I am not of the number of those who shall be saved; and then though Christ is a physician, I shall not be healed.

We must take heed of drawing desperate conclusions against ourselves. It is high presumption for us to make ourselves wiser than the angels. All the angels in heaven are not able to resolve this question: who are elected and who are reprobated?

You who say you are not within Christ's commission — read over Christ's commission; see whom he comes to heal (Luke 4:18): he has sent me to heal the brokenhearted. Has God touched your heart with remorse? Do you lay to heart your gospel-unkindnesses? Do you weep more out of love to Christ than fear of hell? Then you are a brokenhearted sinner and are within Christ's commission. A bleeding Christ will heal a broken heart.

Objection three: my sins are so many that surely I shall never be healed — I am sick with many diseases at once.

You have the more need of a physician. Is it a good argument to say to a physician: I am diseased, therefore depart from me? No — therefore come and heal me. Our sins should serve to humble us, not to beat us away from Christ. If we had no diseases, Christ would have no work to do in the world.

Objection four: my disease is inflamed and grown to a crisis; my sin is greatly heightened.

The plaster of Christ's blood is broader than your sore. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7). All diseases are alike to Christ's blood; he can cure the greatest sin as well as the least. Do you have a flowing wound of sin? The wound in Christ's side can heal yours.

Objection five: mine is an old, deep-rooted disease, and I fear it is incurable.

Though your disease is chronic, Christ can heal it. Christ does not say: if this disease had been taken in time, it might have been cured; he is good at old sores. The thief on the cross had an old festering disease, but Christ cured it. Zacchaeus was an old sinner — a tax collector who had wronged many — but Christ cured him. Christ sometimes grafts his grace upon an old stock. We read that Christ cured at sun-setting (Luke 4:40) — he heals some sinners at the sun-setting of their lives.

Objection six: after I have been healed, my disease has broken forth again; I have relapsed into the same sin — therefore I fear there is no healing for me.

It is rare that the Lord leaves his children to these relapses, though through the suspension of grace and the power of temptation it is possible to fall back into sin. These sins of relapse are sad — they open the mouth of conscience to accuse and stop the mouth of God's Spirit which should speak peace. But if the soul is deeply humbled, if the relapsing sinner is a repenting sinner, let him not cast away the anchor of hope, but have recourse to his soul-physician. Jesus Christ can cure a relapse; he healed David's relapse and Cranmer's relapse. If anyone sins, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (1 John 2:1). Christ appears in the court as advocate for the client. As he poured out his blood upon the cross, so he pours out his prayers at the altar in heaven (Hebrews 7:25): he ever lives to make intercession for us. Therefore do not be discouraged from going to your physician; though your disease has broken out again, Christ has fresh sprinklings of his blood for you; he can cure a relapse.

Objection seven: there is no healing for me — I fear I have sinned the sin against the Holy Spirit.

The fear of sinning it is a sign you have not sinned it.

Let me ask: why do you think you have sinned the sin against the Holy Spirit? I have grieved the Spirit of God.

Every grieving of the Spirit is not that fatal sin. We grieve the Spirit when we sin against the light of it; the Spirit being grieved may depart for a time, carrying away all its comfort, leaving the soul in darkness (Isaiah 50:10). But every grieving the Spirit is not the sin against the Holy Spirit. A child of God when he has sinned, his heart smites him; and he whose heart smites him for sin has not committed the unpardonable sin. A child of God having grieved the Spirit does as Noah — when the dove flew out of the ark, he opened the window to let it back in. A godly person does not shut his heart against the Spirit as a wicked person does (Acts 7:51); he opens his heart to let in the Spirit. Christian, is it not so with you? Then be of good comfort — you have not sinned the sin against the Holy Spirit. That sin is a malicious despising of the Spirit, which you tremble to think of.

Therefore laying aside all these disputes, whatever the diseases of your soul are, come to Christ for a cure. Believe in his blood and you may be saved. You see what a skillful and able physician Christ is, what sovereign oils and balsams he has, how willing he is to cure sick souls. What remains but that you cast yourselves upon his merits to heal and save you! Of all sins, unbelief is the worst, because it casts disparagement on Christ, as if he were not able to work a cure. O Christian, believe in your physician (John 3:15): that whoever believes in him should not perish. Say as Queen Esther (Esther 4:16): I will go in to the King, which is not according to the law, and if I perish, I perish. So say: the Lord Jesus is a physician to heal me — I will venture on his blood; if I perish, I perish. I have a promise which invites me to come to Christ (John 6:37): he who comes to me I will in no wise cast out. Faith is a healing grace. We read that when the Israelites were burying a man and cast him for haste into the grave of Elisha, as soon as he was down and touched the dead body of the prophet, he revived and stood upon his feet (2 Kings 13:21). So if a person is dead in sin, yet let him be cast into Christ's grave and by faith touch Christ who was dead and buried — he will revive and his soul will be healed. There is no way for a cure but by believing. A plaster, though never so rare and excellent, if it is not applied to the wound, will do no good. Though the plaster be made of Christ's own blood, yet it will not heal unless applied by faith. The bronze serpent was a sovereign remedy, but if they had not looked upon it, they received no benefit. So though there is healing virtue in Christ, unless we look upon him by the eye of faith, we cannot be cured. Above all things, labor for faith; this is the all-healing grace; this hand touching Christ fetches virtue from him.

Not that faith has more worthiness than other graces; but only it is effective as it makes us one with Christ. If a person had a stone in a ring that could heal many diseases, we say the ring heals — but it is not the ring, but the stone in the ring that does the cure. So faith saves and heals not by its own virtue, but as it lays hold on Christ and fetches down his sacred influences into the soul.

If Jesus Christ is a spiritual physician, let us labor to hasten the cure of our souls.

What a little time we have to stay here — and let that hasten the cure. Solomon says there is a time to be born and a time to die (Ecclesiastes 3:2), but mentions no time of living, as if that were so short it were not worth naming. The body is called a vessel (1 Thessalonians 4:4); this vessel is filled with breath; sickness draws out its contents, and death empties it. Hasten your soul's cure; death is on its swift march, and if it surprises you suddenly, there is no cure to be worked in the grave (Ecclesiastes 9:10): there is no work, nor device, nor wisdom in the grave where you go.

Now is properly the time of healing; now is the day of grace; now Christ pours out his balsams, now he sends abroad his ministers and Spirit. Now is the accepted time (2 Corinthians 6:2). There were certain healing days when the king healed those who had the king's evil; the day of grace is a healing day. If we neglect the day of grace, the next will be a day of wrath (Romans 2:5). Hasten the cure of your soul; rather neglect your food than your cure; sin will not only kill, but damn.

To get a cure:

Come to the healing pool of the sanctuary; the Spirit of God may on a sudden stir these waters. The next Sunday, for all you know, may be a healing day to your soul.

Pray for others to pray for you; when any disease is upon your body, you desire the prayers of others. The prayers of the saints are precious balsams and medicines to cure sick souls.

Is Jesus Christ a soul-physician? Then let me speak to you who are in some measure healed of your damnable disease. I have four things to say.

Break forth into thankfulness; though sin is not quite cured and there are still some grudgings of the disease, yet the reigning power of it is taken away. You are so healed that you shall not die (John 3:16; John 11:26). Those who were cured by the bronze serpent afterwards died; but such as are healed by Christ shall never die. Sin may molest, it shall not damn. Oh then, what cause have you to admire and love your physician! The Lord Jesus has taken out the core of your disease and the curse; publish your experiences (Psalm 66:16): I will tell you what God has done for my soul. As a man who has been cured of an old disease — how glad and thankful is he? He will tell others of the medicine that cured him. So say: I will tell you what God has done for my soul — he has cured me of an old disease, a hard and unbelieving heart, a disease that has sent millions to hell. Truly we may cheerfully bear any other sickness if this soul-sickness is cured. Lord, said Luther, strike and wound where you will, if sin be pardoned. Oh let the high praises of God be in your mouth (Psalm 149:6). God expects thankfulness as a tribute; he wonders men bring not their thank-offering (Luke 17:17): were there not ten cleansed, but where are the nine?

Are you healed? Take heed of coming into infected company, lest you catch the infection; the wicked are devils to tempt to sin. Lot was the world's wonder in that he lived in Sodom when it was a pesthouse, yet did not catch the disease.

Take heed of relapses: men are afraid of a relapse after they are cured, so beware of soul-relapses. Has God softened your heart? Take heed of hardening it. Has he cured you in some measure of deadness? Do not relapse into a drowsy security. You may have such an uproar and agony in your conscience as may make you go weeping to your grave. Oh, take heed of falling sick again; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto you (John 5:14).

Pity your friends that are sick unto death; show your piety in your pity. Have you a child that is well and healthy in body but has a sick soul? Pity him, pray for him. David wept and fasted for his sick child (2 Samuel 12:16). Your child has the plague of the heart, and you have conveyed the plague to him; weep and fast for your child. Have you a wife or husband who — though they do not keep to their bed — the Lord knows they are sick, under the raging power of sin? Let your heart yearn over them; lift up a prayer for them. The prayer of faith may save a sick soul. Prayer is the best medicine that can be used in a desperate case. You who have felt the disease of sin and the mercy of your physician, learn to pity others.

Is Christ a soul-physician? Then let us go to Christ to cure this sick, dying nation. England (God knows) is a sick patient; the whole head is sick, the whole heart is faint. The body politic has a kakexia — it is ill all over. Magistracy, ministry, and commonalty are diseased, and those who pretended to be our healers are physicians of no value. We have spent our money upon these physicians, but our sores are not healed (Jeremiah 14:19): why have you smitten us and there is no healing for us? Instead of healing us, those who should have been our physicians have increased the nation's malady by giving a toleration — this is like giving strong drink in a fever, which inflames the disease further. Sick England, because sinful England — sick of error, uncleanness, drunkenness — so sick that we may fear our funerals are approaching. And the worst symptom is that though balm has been poured into our wounds and the precious ordinances of God have been applied, yet we are not healed — a sign of ill flesh that is so difficult to cure.

This sin-sickness in the land has brought forth many dreadful effects: division, oppression, bloodshed — the very bowels and arteries of the nation are almost torn asunder, so that God has fulfilled that threatening upon us (Micah 6:13): I will make you sick with smiting you. We have made ourselves sick with sinning, and God has made us sick with smiting. What remains but that we should go to the great physician of souls — whose blood sprinkles many nations — that he would apply some healing medicines to dying England? God can with a word heal; he can give repentance as well as deliverance; he can put us in joint again. Let all the people of the land lie between the porch and the altar, saying: spare your people, O Lord (Joel 2:17). Our prayers and tears may set Christ to work to heal us (Psalm 106:23): therefore he said that he would destroy them, had not Moses his chosen stood in the breach to turn away his wrath. Let us never leave imploring our heavenly physician, till he lay a fig on England's boil and cause it to recover.

Luke 5:31 — "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick."

The occasion for these words is set out in the surrounding passage. Levi was called away from the tax collector's table. Christ called him, and power went out with that word — Levi left everything, stood up, and followed Him (verse 28). Levi did not stop to consult his own interests. He did not reason: what will happen to my income? How will I live? I'll be giving up a profitable position at the customs office — and on top of that, following Christ means taking on persecution. He does not think this way. He receives the call and hurries after Christ. To show Christ a sign of his love, he throws a feast in His honor (verse 29): Levi made a great feast for Him in his own house. Christ always brought something with Him: Levi feasted Christ with his food, and Christ feasted him with salvation. Now, as Christ reclined at this feast, the Pharisees began to grumble (verse 30): "Why do You eat and drink with tax collectors?" The Pharisees were offended that He went in and ate with tax collectors, who were regarded as the worst of sinners. They also brought a charge against Christ: why does He eat with tax collectors and sinners? Malice never runs short of something to accuse. Though the demons had declared Christ's holiness (Luke 4:34): "I know who You are — the Holy One of God" — the Pharisees charged Him as a sinner. See what malice can do: it will make a person say what even the devil will not say. If Christ — the spotless Lamb — could not escape the censures of the world, it is no wonder that His people are loaded with the slanders of the wicked.

Let us examine the charge they brought against Christ and see how groundless it was. They indicted Christ for associating with sinners.

First, Christ was doing exactly what His commission required. The commission He received from His Father was to come and save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).

Second, Christ associated with sinners not to join them in their sins but to heal them of their sins. To accuse Christ for this — as Augustine points out — was like accusing a physician for going among plague victims. Christ hears this baseless accusation and in the text gives these envious Pharisees a silencing reply: "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick." He is saying: you Pharisees consider yourselves righteous — you think you need no Savior. But these poor tax collectors are sick and close to dying, and I have come as a physician to heal them. So do not be angry at a work of mercy. Even if you refuse to be healed, do not stand in the way of My healing others.

The text has two main parts.

First, the dying patients. Second, the healing physician.

First, the dying patients — those who are sick. Observe:

Sin is a disease of the soul (Psalm 103:3; Isaiah 53:4): "He has borne our griefs" — in the Hebrew: our sicknesses. At the beginning, humanity was created in a state of health. There was no sickness of soul — no suffering. The soul had its perfect beauty and wholeness. The mind was clear, the heart was pure, and the affections were tuned by God's own hand into perfect harmony. "God made man upright" (Ecclesiastes 7:29), but when Adam ate the forbidden fruit he fell sick — and would have died forever had God not provided a way of recovery. Three things deserve consideration to develop this point fully.

First, in what sense sin is compared to sickness. Second, what the diseases of the soul are. Third, that the sickness of sin is the worst kind.

In what sense sin is compared to sickness.

Sin may be compared to sickness in the way it is contracted.

Sickness is often caught through carelessness — some people get a chill by leaving off warm clothing. So when Adam grew careless of God's command and stripped off the garment of his innocence, he caught a disease. His sin turned the world, which had been a paradise, into a hospital.

Sickness is sometimes contracted through excess and self-indulgence. When our first parents threw off the restraint of obedience and ate of the forbidden tree, they and all their descendants fell into sickness. The tree of knowledge had sickness and death hidden beneath its leaves. We all became desperately ill by eating from that tree. Adam's excess has brought all of us into a state of fasting and mourning. Beyond the disease inherited through Adam, we have added to it through our own personal sins. We have made ourselves sicker — which is why sinners are said to "grow worse and worse" (2 Timothy 3:13).

Sin may also be compared to sickness in its character. Sickness spreads throughout the whole body, working into every part and throwing the entire system into disorder. So sin does not stay in one corner of the soul but spreads through all of its faculties and throughout all the body's members (Isaiah 1:5-6): "The whole head is sick and the whole heart is faint. From the sole of the foot to the head there is no soundness in it, only wounds, bruises, and open sores."

Sin corrupts the understanding. Gregory Nazianzene calls the understanding the lamp of reason — and this lamp now burns dimly (Ephesians 4:18): "having their understanding darkened." Sin has drawn a veil over the understanding, casting a fog before our eyes, so that we know neither God nor ourselves. By nature we are only clever at doing evil (Jeremiah 4:22) — skilled at sin, inventive about our own ruin. The understanding is defiled (1 Corinthians 2:14). We can no more judge spiritual things until the Spirit opens our eyes than a blind man can judge colors. Our minds are prone to error — we call evil good and good evil (Isaiah 5:20). A straight stick looks bent when it is underwater. In the same way, to a mind still in its natural state, the straight line of truth appears crooked.

The memory is diseased as well. At first the memory was like a golden cabinet in which divine truths were kept safe. Now it is like a colander or a leaking vessel that lets everything good run out. The memory is like a sieve that sifts out the fine flour and keeps only the bran. So the memory lets saving truths slip away and retains nothing but trivialities and empty things. Many people can recall a story they heard years ago while they have forgotten their creed. The memory is like a weak stomach that cannot hold food — everything comes back up. The most precious truths will not stay in the memory but are quickly gone.

The will is diseased. The will is the soul's commander — the master wheel. But how disordered and erratic it has become! In creation the will was like the golden bridle said to guide and govern a winged horse — it aligned itself with God's will. This was the will's language in the state of innocence: "I delight to do Your will, O God" (Psalm 40:8). But now it is disordered. It is like a rod of iron that refuses to bend to God (Isaiah 48:4). "You are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life" (John 5:40). People will sooner die than come to their physician. The will is a rebel against God (Acts 7:51): "You always resist the Holy Spirit." The will is diseased.

The affections are sick as well.

First, the affection of desire. A sick person craves what is harmful — a person with a fever calls for wine. So the natural person, being spiritually sick, desires what is harmful. He has no desire for Christ and no hunger or thirst for righteousness. Instead he craves poison — he wants to drink his fill of sin. He loves death (Proverbs 8:36).

Second, the affection of grief. A person mourns the loss of money but not the loss of God's favor. He grieves to see plague or cancer in his body but feels no grief over the plague in his heart.

Third, the affection of joy. Many can rejoice over a piece of gold but not over the cross of Christ. The affections are sick and disordered.

The conscience is diseased (Titus 1:15): "Both their mind and their conscience are defiled." Conscience is either mistaken — binding a person to what is sinful (Acts 26:9): "I thought to myself that I had to do many things hostile to the name of Jesus." Or it is silent — no longer warning people of sin, like a preacher who has been forced to stop speaking. Or it is dead (Ephesians 4:19): conscience has become numb and unresponsive. The habit of sinning has worn away any feeling of guilt. So the sickness of sin has spread over the entire soul, like that cloud that covered the whole sky (1 Kings 18:45).

Sickness weakens and drains the body. A sick person cannot walk properly. This sickness of sin weakens the soul in the same way (Romans 5:6): "While we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died." In his original state, Adam was in some ways like the angels — he could serve God with swift energy and childlike joy. But sin brought sickness into the soul, cutting off the source of his strength. He is now stripped of all ability to serve God. Even where grace has begun to work, a Christian is not as helpless as before — but he is often very weak. When we find ourselves spiritually numb in duty, our holy affections barely alive, we should think: this is my sickness — sin has drained my strength. As Jephthah said to his daughter (Judges 11:35): "Alas, my daughter, you have brought me very low." So the soul may say: alas, my sin, you have brought me very low — almost to the gates of death.

Sickness dims the beauty of the body (Psalm 39:11): "When You rebuke a man for his sin, You dissolve his beauty like a moth." So sin is a soul-sickness — it has dimmed the soul's glory, turning its radiance to paleness. That beauty of grace which once shone like gold — "How the gold has grown dim!" The soul which once had a brilliant light — the mind glittering with knowledge, the will crowned with freedom, the affections burning like seraphs in love toward God — now the glory has departed. Sin has turned beauty into deformity. Just as some faces become so disfigured by sickness that they can hardly be recognized, the soul of man has been so tragically transformed by sin — having lost the image of God — that it is nearly unrecognizable (Joel 2:31). Sin has turned that sun of beauty which shone in the soul into a darkness without light.

Sickness takes away the sense of taste. A sick person cannot taste sweetness in his food. So the sinner, because of soul-sickness, has lost his taste for spiritual things. The word of God is bread to strengthen and wine to comfort — but the sinner tastes no sweetness in it. A child of God who has been made spiritual by grace savors the ordinances — the promise falls like honey from the comb (Psalm 19:10). But the natural person is sick and his taste is gone. Ever since tasting the forbidden fruit, he has lost his spiritual sense of taste.

Sickness robs life of its joy. A sick person takes no pleasure in anything — his life feels like a burden. So the sin-sick soul is empty of all true comfort. What laughter he has is only the pleasant dream of someone running a fever. He has no real claim to comfort. His sin is not pardoned — for all he knows, he could be in hell before nightfall.

Sickness ushers in death — it is the opening act of death. Sickness is like the cutting of a tree at the base, and death is the falling of the tree. So this disease of sin, if not cured in time, brings the second death.

What are the diseases of the soul? By breaking the vessel of original righteousness, Adam filled the soul full of diseases. The body is not afflicted with as many diseases as the soul. Pride is the swelling tumor of the soul; lust is the fever; false doctrine is the gangrene; unbelief is the plague of the heart; hypocrisy is the scurvy; hardness of heart is the stone; anger is the frenzy; malice is the wolf gnawing in the chest; greed is the dropsy; spiritual laziness is the wasting sickness; apostasy is the seizure. Here are eleven soul-diseases, and when they reach their full height they are dangerous — and most often prove fatal.

The third point is that sin is the worst sickness of all. To have a body covered with plague sores is dreadful — but to have the soul spotted with sin is far worse, as the following considerations show.

The body may be diseased and yet the conscience be at peace (Isaiah 33:24): "No resident will say, 'I am sick'" — he would hardly feel his sickness because his sin was pardoned. But when the soul is sick with a dominant sin, the conscience is in torment (Isaiah 57:21): "There is no peace for the wicked, says my God." When Francis Spira had renounced his former faith, his conscience burned like hell, and no spiritual remedy that ministers applied could ever put out that fire.

A person may have bodily diseases and yet be loved by God. Asa had a foot disease — gout — yet was a favorite with God (2 Kings 15:23). God's hand may lie heavily on a person while His heart is still toward him. But diseases of the soul are signs of God's displeasure. As a holy God, He cannot but hate sin (Psalm 138:6): "The proud He knows from afar." God is repelled by a sinner's spiritual sores (Zechariah 11:8): "My soul loathed them."

Physical sickness at its worst only separates a person from the company of friends. But the disease of sin, if not cured, separates a person from God and the angels forever. Under the law, a person with a skin disease was shut out of the camp. This leprosy of sin, without the intervention of mercy, shuts people out of the camp of heaven (Revelation 21:8). This is the misery of those who die in their sins — they are cut off forever from the presence of God, in whose presence there is fullness of joy.

Consider what a desperate condition sin has brought us into — it has made us critically ill. How many sick, bedridden souls there are in the world — sick with pride, sick with lust! Sin has turned our homes and churches into hospitals filled with the diseased. What David's enemies said against him as a taunt is actually true of every person in their natural state (Psalm 41:8): "A wicked thing has clung to him." They carry the plague in their heart (1 Kings 8:38). Even those who have been renewed are only partly healed. The disease still lingers — some stirrings of corruption remain. From this sin-sickness flow all other diseases: plague, gout, kidney stones, fever (1 Corinthians 11:29-30): "For this reason many among you are weak and sick."

Since sin is a disease of the soul, how foolish are those who try to hide their sins! It is folly to conceal a disease. The wicked take more care to keep their sins hidden than to get them cured. As long as they can sin privately without being suspected, they think everything is fine. But there is a curse on the one who hides sin in a secret place (Deuteronomy 27:15). Hiding and concealing a disease leads to a fatal outcome (Proverbs 28:13): "He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper."

Since sin is a disease of the soul, how great is the need for the ministry of the Word! Ministers are physicians under God, appointed to cure sick souls (Ephesians 4:11) — they form a kind of medical college for the soul. Their work is to diagnose diseases and apply remedies — and it is hard work. While ministers are healing others, they are often themselves near death from the effort (Philippians 2:30). They find their people sick with every kind of disease — some poisoned by false doctrine, some made sick by love of the world, some stabbed at the heart by gross sin. How hard it is to heal souls so deeply infected! Many ministers wear themselves out in preaching before they can cure their patients. But though the work of ministry is exhausting, it is absolutely necessary. Where there are sick souls, there will always be need of spiritual physicians. How inexcusable then are those who attack and persecute the ministers of God (1 Corinthians 4:9)! Would it not be an act of cruelty and barbarism to pass a law banishing all physicians from the land? Is it not worse to see crowds of sick souls lying and bleeding while their spiritual physicians are removed from them? This is a sin that provokes God's wrath (2 Chronicles 36:16): "They mocked the messengers of God... until the wrath of the Lord arose against His people, until there was no remedy." The Lord will wither the arm stretched out against His prophets.

Since sin is a disease of the soul, let this humble us. If anything can produce humility, this should — sin is a disease of the soul. If a woman had a beautiful face but a cancer in her body, it would keep her from being proud of her beauty. So, Christian, even though you have knowledge and moral seriousness that look attractive from the outside, remember that your soul is diseased — here is a cancer within to keep you humble. This is certainly one reason why God leaves remnants of sin even in His own children: the sight of their own wounds makes the feathers of pride fall. Two things produce genuine humility: a sight of God's glory, and a sight of our own diseases. Though the saints have their golden graces, they also have their diseased spots. Since sin has made us wretched, let it make us humble. Since it has stolen our beauty, let it steal away our pride. Christians are never more lovely in God's eyes than when they are most repulsive in their own. The sins that truly humble us will never condemn us.

Since sin is a disease of the soul — and the most deadly disease — let us be afraid of it. If we had an ulcer in the lungs or a wasting fever, we would be terrified it might kill us. Be afraid of the sickness of sin, lest it bring the second death. You who are a drunkard or a blasphemer — tremble at your soul's diseases. Why do people not fear sin? Why do they not shake at the sight of this disease? The reason is this:

Spiritual numbness. Along with the fever of sin, they have a spiritual stupor (1 Timothy 4:2): "Their conscience has been seared as with a hot iron." The person who has an unbelieving heart and a seared conscience is in a desperate condition.

Presumption. Many imagine they can treat themselves. Though they are sick, they think they can make themselves well. They say a few prayers, shed a tear or two, and expect to recover quickly. But is it really so easy to be healed of sin? Is it easy to put the old nature to death? Beware of spiritual numbness. Fear your disease before it proves fatal. Doctors speak of a disease that makes people die laughing. In the same way, Satan tickles many with the pleasures of sin — and they die laughing.

Since sin is a disease of the soul, regard as your best friends those who work to rescue you from your sins. A patient is grateful to the physician who identifies his disease and works to restore him to health. When ministers point out your sins in love and work to reclaim you, receive it well. The worst they intend is to cure you of your sickness. David welcomed a healing rebuke (Psalm 141:5): "Let the righteous strike me — it is a kindness." Ministers are required by their calling to rebuke (2 Timothy 4:2). They must apply sharp medicine as well as soothing medicine (Titus 1:13): "Reprove them severely so that they may be sound in the faith." The Word cuts — like a surgeon who probes a wound and then lances and removes the infected tissue. So the ministers of Christ must rebuke sharply in order to save their dying patients. Who gets angry at a physician for prescribing a bitter medicine? Why should anyone be angry with Christ's ministers for reproving, when by office they are physicians and by love they are fathers? Yet how few are willing to receive a rebuke graciously (Amos 5:10): "They hate the one who reproves in the gate."

People do not welcome correction because they are in love with their sins. It is strange that anyone should love their own disease — yet so it is (Proverbs 1:22). Sin is the poison of the soul, yet people love it. And the person who loves his sin hates the one who rebukes it.

Sin takes possession of people with a kind of madness (Luke 15:17). People are frenzied in their sin (Jeremiah 50:38). When sickness grows so intense that a patient lies raving and out of his mind, he turns on his physician and accuses him of coming to kill him. In the same way, when sin reaches its full height and the disease turns to frenzy, people turn on those who warn them of their sins. It shows wisdom to receive a correction (Proverbs 9:8): "Rebuke a wise man and he will love you." A wise person would rather take a bitter medicine than die of his disease.

Since sin is a disease of the soul, do not feed this disease. A wise person avoids whatever makes his illness worse. If he has a fever, he avoids wine that would inflame it. If he has kidney stones, he avoids salty food. Why should people not be as wise about their souls? If you are prone to drunkenness, do not fuel it with wine. If you are prone to malice, do not fuel it with thoughts of revenge. If you struggle with sexual lust, "make no provision for the flesh" (Romans 13:14). To feed a disease is to feed an enemy. Either kill your sin, or your sin will kill you.

Since sin is a disease of the soul, work to become aware of this disease. Few people are truly aware of their spiritual sickness — they think they are well and have nothing wrong. The church at Laodicea was a sick patient who thought herself healthy (Revelation 3:17): "You say, 'I am rich and have become wealthy and have need of nothing.'" Ask many people about the state of their soul, and they will say they have a good heart and have no doubt they will be saved. Why is it that when people are so desperately sick in their souls, on the very edge of hell, they still imagine themselves to be in perfectly good shape?

There is a spiritual film over their eyes — they cannot see their own wounds. Laodicea thought herself rich because she was blind (Revelation 3:17). The god of this world blinds people's eyes so they can see neither their disease nor the physician who could heal them. Many thank God that their condition is good — not because they know they are blessed, but because they are ignorant of their danger. When Haman's face was covered, he was already close to execution. Pray with David: "Enlighten my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death" (Psalm 13:3).

People who are sick think themselves well because of pride. Alexander for a time believed he was the son of Jupiter and nothing less than a god. What an arrogant creature is man! Though he is dying of his disease, he thinks it beneath him to admit he is sick. Either he is not sick, he tells himself, or he can heal himself. If he has been poisoned, he reaches for the herb of his own righteousness as the cure (Romans 10:3).

People who are sick imagine themselves well because of self-love. A person in love will not believe a bad report about the one he loves. People are lovers of self (2 Timothy 3:2) — every man thinks well of himself. So he never suspects himself of being diseased. He would sooner question the truth of Scripture than admit to his own sickness.

Self-deception appears in two ways.

First, in hiding the disease. The heart conceals sin the way Rachel hid her father's idols (Genesis 31:34). Hazael did not think he was as sick as he was. He could not imagine that such wickedness lay hidden within him (2 Kings 8:13): "Is your servant a dog, that he would do this great thing?" Just as a viper's teeth are hidden within its gums, so there is much corruption buried in the heart — hidden, veiled, kept out of sight.

Second, the heart holds a distorted mirror before the eyes, making a person appear good and his condition sound. The heart can deceive with counterfeit grace. This is why people remain unaware of their true spiritual state and think themselves well when they are dying.

People take an inflated view of their own spiritual condition through mistaken thinking, and this mistake takes two forms.

They rely on outward privileges. They were raised within reach of the church, they were baptized, they have been fed on the Word of God. Therefore they assume they are in a good condition (Judges 17:13): "Then Micah said, 'Now I know that the Lord will prosper me, for the Levite has become my priest.'" But this is a mistake. Outward privileges do not save. What does it benefit anyone to receive the ordinances without being changed by them? A child can die with its mother's breast still in its mouth. Many of the Jews perished even though Christ Himself was their preacher.

The other mistake is described by the apostle (2 Corinthians 10:12): "They measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves — they are not wise." Here is a double error.

They measure themselves by themselves — that is, they notice they are not as bad as they once were, and therefore conclude their condition is good. A dwarf may be taller than he used to be and still be a dwarf. A patient may be less sick than before and still be far from well. A person may be better than he was and still not be good.

They compare themselves with others around them. They see they are not as wicked or godless as other people, so they think themselves well because they are not as sick as their neighbors. This is a mistake. A person can die of consumption just as surely as of the plague. One man may not be as far from heaven as another and yet still be very far from heaven. Go to the law and to the testimony — the Word of God is the true standard by which the state of our souls is to be judged.

Let us guard against this danger — imagining our condition is better than it is. Let us guard against spiritual numbness — being sick in our souls yet feeling nothing. People speak of a light within them. But the natural light within them is not sufficient to show them the diseases of their souls. This inner light tells them they are healthy and have no need of a physician.

What an infinite mercy it is for a person to be made aware of his sin, and seeing himself sick, to cry out with David: "I have sinned against the Lord" (2 Samuel 12:13). Is it not a mercy when a person who has lost his reason is restored to his senses? So it is a mercy when someone who is spiritually deranged and in a stupor comes to himself — and sees both his wound and his remedy! Until the sinner is made aware of his disease, the medicine of mercy does not yet belong to him.

Since sin is a disease of the soul, work hard to get this disease healed. If a person had a disease in his body — pneumonia or cancer — he would use every available means to be cured. The woman in the Gospel who had suffered from bleeding for years spent everything she had on physicians (Luke 8:43). Be even more urgent to have your soul cured than your body. Make David's prayer your own (Psalm 41:4): "Heal my soul, for I have sinned against You." Do you have a wasting body? Pray all the more earnestly to God to heal the far deeper disease within your soul. Go to God first for the cure of your soul (James 5:14): "Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church and let them pray over him." Notice that James does not say: let him call for the physician — but the elders, that is, the ministers. Most people send for the physician first and the minister second, showing they are far more concerned about their body than their soul. But if diseases of the soul are more dangerous and deadly, we should seek the spiritual cure before the physical. "Heal my soul, for I have sinned."

Until we are cured, we are unfit to do anything for God. A sick person cannot work. While the disease of sin is at full strength in us, we are unfit for any spiritual service. We can neither work for God nor work out our own salvation. As long as sin's disease holds us, we are lame and bedridden — unable to function. We read of a sinner's works — but they are dead works (Hebrews 6:1).

If we are not cured, we remain under a curse. If the disease remains upon us, the wrath of God remains upon us.

But how can we get this disease of sin healed? This brings us to the second part of the text — the healing physician: "Those who are well have no need of a physician."

Jesus Christ is a physician of the soul. Ministers are physicians whom Christ sends out into the world in His name. He says to the apostles, and through them to all His ministers: "Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Matthew 28:20). That is: I am with you to support and bless you, and to make your ministry effective for healing. But while ministers are physicians, they are only under-physicians. Jesus Christ is the chief physician. He is the one who teaches all our remedies and accompanies our labors — without Him, no medicine we prescribe will ever work. All the ministers in heaven could not produce a single cure without the help of this great physician. I will show: first, that Christ is a physician; second, why He became a physician; third, that He is the only physician; fourth, how He heals His patients; fifth, that He is the best physician.

That Christ is a physician — it is one of His titles (Exodus 15:26): "I am the Lord who heals you." He is a physician of the body: He opened blind eyes, cleansed lepers, healed the sick, and raised the dead (Matthew 8:16). He is the one who puts healing power into medicine. And He is a physician of the soul (Psalm 147:3): "He heals the brokenhearted." We are all, in our various ways, helpless and diseased. Christ is the soul-physician who heals these diseases. To show His healing power, Christ is compared in Scripture to the following:

The bronze serpent (Numbers 21:9): those who had been bitten were healed by looking at the bronze serpent. So when the soul has been stung by the ancient serpent, it is healed by looking to Christ.

The good Samaritan (Luke 10:33-34): "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine." We have wounded ourselves through sin, and the wound would have been fatal — had not Christ that good Samaritan poured in wine and oil.

The trees along the sanctuary river (Ezekiel 47:12): "Their fruit will be for food and their leaves for healing." So the Lord Jesus — that tree of life in paradise — has healing power. He heals our pride, our unbelief, and more. As He nourishes our graces, so He heals our corruptions.

Why Christ became a physician.

First, because of His calling. God the Father called Him to practice as a physician and anointed Him to the work of healing (Luke 4:18): "The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted." Christ came into the world as into a hospital — to heal sin-sick souls. Although this was a glorious work, Christ would not undertake it until He had been commissioned by His Father. Christ was anointed and appointed to the work of a physician — and this is a pattern for us. We should not involve ourselves in any work without a proper calling — to do otherwise is to step outside our proper sphere.

Second, Christ undertook this healing work because of our desperate need for a physician. Christ came to be our physician not because we deserved Him but because we needed Him. It was not our merit but our misery that drew Christ from heaven. Had He not come, we would have died of our wounds. Our disease was not ordinary — it had seized every part of us. It made us not merely sick, but dead. And remedies were needed that no one but Christ could provide.

Third, Christ came as a physician out of the goodness of His own heart. He is like the good Samaritan who had compassion on the wounded man (Luke 10:33). A physician may visit a patient only for pay — caring less about helping the patient than helping himself. But Christ came purely out of compassion. There was nothing in us to attract Christ to heal us. Just as sin made us sick, it also made us poor. So Christ came as a physician not hoping to receive anything from us, but moved by His own goodness. "I will heal their apostasy; I will love them freely" (Hosea 14:4). Love set Christ to work — not only His Father's commission but His own compassion moved Him.

The third point is that Christ is the only physician. Acts 4:12: "There is salvation in no one else." One physician — and one alone — is sufficient. The Roman church would have other healers besides Christ. They would make angels their physicians. But all the angels in heaven cannot heal a single sick soul. They are described by their wings (Isaiah 6:2), but they have no healing under their wings. The Roman church also urges people to heal themselves through their own merits. Adam ate the apple that made him and all his descendants sick, but he could find no herb in paradise to cure him. Our own merits are more likely to condemn us than heal us. To turn to other physicians and remedies is like the Israelites, in contempt of the bronze serpent Moses set up, erecting bronze serpents of their own. In physical illness it may be wise to seek multiple physicians. But when it comes to the soul, if any other physician is added alongside Christ, the patient will surely die.

How Christ heals His patients.

There are four things in Christ that are healing.

His Word is healing (Psalm 107:20): "He sent His word and healed them." His Word in the mouth of His ministers is healing. When the spirit is wounded and in darkness, Christ creates lips that speak peace (Isaiah 57:19). The written Word is a treasury in which God has stored His most powerful medicines to restore sick souls. The preached Word is the opening of that treasury and the applying of those medicines to the patient. We may look at the word as a weak instrument — what can a person's breath do to save a soul? But "the power of the Lord was present to heal" (Luke 5:17). Christ makes His Word convincing, converting, and comforting.

Caution: the Word does not heal everyone. To some it is not a healing word but a condemning one (2 Corinthians 2:16): "To the one we are an aroma from death to death." Two kinds of patients die of their disease.

Those who sin presumptuously — who know something is sin and do it anyway (Job 24:13): "They are of those who rebel against the light." David prays (Psalm 19:13): "Keep back Your servant also from presumptuous sins."

Those who sin maliciously — when the disease reaches this point, the patient will die (Hebrews 10:29). But to those who belong to God's elect, the Word is the healing medicine Christ applies. "He sent His word and healed them."

Christ's wounds are healing (Isaiah 53:5): "By His scourging we are healed." Christ made a medicine from His own body and blood. The physician died to cure the patient. The pelican, when her young are bitten by serpents, is said to feed them with her own blood to revive them. In the same way, when we were bitten by the ancient serpent, Jesus Christ prescribes a remedy of His own blood to heal and restore us. The blood of Christ is the salvation of the Christian. The blood of Christ — being the blood of one who is both God and man — has infinite merit to satisfy God and infinite power to heal us. This is the balm of Gilead that restores a soul that is sick unto death. Balm, as naturalists describe it, is a juice that weeps out of a small shrub when it is cut with glass. It was long regarded as highly precious — its fragrance was rich, and its healing power was remarkable. It could cure ulcers and the bites of serpents. This balm is a picture of Christ's blood — it has the most powerful healing virtue. It cures the ulcer of sin and the sting of temptation. It earns for us justification (Romans 5:9). How precious is this balm of Gilead! By this blood we enter into heaven.

Christ's Spirit is healing. The blood of Christ heals the guilt of sin; the Spirit of Christ heals the pollution of sin. The Spirit is compared to oil — "the anointing" (Isaiah 61:1) — showing the Spirit's healing character. Oil heals wounds. Christ by His Spirit heals the rebellion of the will and the hardness of the heart. Sin may not be completely removed in this life, but it is subdued.

Christ's rod is healing (Isaiah 27:9). Christ never wounds except to heal. The rod of affliction is used to restore the sick patient. David's bones were broken so that his soul might be healed. God uses affliction as a surgeon uses his lance — to drain the poison and corruption from the soul and make way for a cure.

But if Christ is a physician, why are not all people healed?

Because most do not know they are sick. They cannot see the sores and wounds of their own souls. Will Christ heal those who see no need of Him? Many ignorant people thank God that they have a good heart — but a heart that lacks grace can no more be good than a body that lacks health can be sound.

Not all are healed because they love their sickness (Psalm 52:3): "You love evil." Many embrace their disease. Augustine says that before his conversion he prayed against sin, but his heart whispered: not yet, Lord. How many love their disease more than their physician! While sin is loved, Christ's medicines are rejected.

Not all are healed because they do not seek the physician. When they have any physical ailment they immediately send for a doctor, but their souls are sick and they never seek their physician Christ. "You are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life" (John 5:40). Christ takes it as an insult that people will not come to Him. Christ will not welcome those patients who turn to Him only as a last resort. You who despise Christ in times of health — Christ may leave you to yourself in times of sickness.

Not all are healed because they want to heal themselves and make their own religious duties their saviors. The Roman church teaches people to be their own physicians. But Christ will have all the credit for the cure, or He will not heal at all. It is not our tears but His blood that saves.

Not all are healed because they do not take the medicine Christ prescribes. They want to be cured, but they are unwilling to follow the treatment. Christ prescribes the bitter medicine of repentance and the demanding treatment of putting sin to death — and they refuse it. They would rather die than take the medicine. If a patient refuses to follow the physician's prescriptions, it is no wonder he is not healed. Christians, you have received many prescriptions — have you followed them? Ask your conscience. Many who hear the Word are like foolish patients who send to the doctor for medicine, receive it, and then let it sit untouched on the shelf. The probability is that you have not followed the Gospel's prescriptions — because the Word has had no visible effect on your heart. You are as proud, as worldly, as resentful as you ever were.

Not all are healed because they have no confidence in their physician. When Christ came to heal anyone, He first asked: "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" (Matthew 9:28). This destroys many. The sinner says: there is no mercy for me — Christ cannot heal me. Take heed: your unbelief is worse than all your other diseases. Did not Christ pray for those who crucified Him: "Father, forgive them"? Some of those who had a hand in shedding His blood were later saved! Why then do you say Christ cannot heal you? Unbelief dishonors Christ, blocks the cure, and seals shut the wounds of Christ. Millions die of their disease because they will not trust their physician.

The fifth and final point is that Christ is the best physician. To set out the praise and honor of Jesus Christ, let me show you how He surpasses all other physicians.

He is the most skilled physician. No disease is too hard for Him (Psalm 103:3): "Who heals all your diseases." The pool of Bethesda may picture Christ's blood (John 5:4): whoever stepped in first after the water was stirred was made well of whatever disease he had. Some diseases physicians cannot cure — advanced lung disease, certain blockages, advanced infections. Some diseases are the embarrassment of the medical profession. But there is no wound too deep for Christ's skill. He can cure the gangrene of sin even when it has reached the heart. He healed Mary Magdalene, a notorious sinner. He healed Paul, who had been breathing threats against the church — so dramatically that Paul himself stands in wonder at the cure (1 Timothy 1:13): "I obtained mercy." Christ heals diseases of the mind and diseases of the heart — which should keep trembling souls from despair. The sinner says: no one has ever been as sick as I am! But look to your physician Christ, who has healing under His wings. He can melt a heart of stone and wash away dark sins in the crimson of His blood. There are no hopeless cases with Christ. There is one disease Christ does not heal — the sin against the Holy Spirit, called "a sin to death" (1 John 5:16). There is no healing for this. Not because Christ lacks the power to cure it, but because the sinner refuses to be cured. A king could pardon a traitor, but if the traitor will accept no pardon, he must die. The sin against the Holy Spirit is unpardonable because the sinner wants no pardon. He despises Christ's blood and insults His Spirit — therefore his sin has no atoning sacrifice left (Hebrews 10:26-29).

Christ is the best physician because He heals the more important part — the soul. Other physicians can heal the liver or spleen. Christ heals the heart. They can treat diseased blood. Christ cleanses the defiled conscience (Hebrews 9:14): "How much more will the blood of Christ purify your conscience from dead works?" Galen and Hippocrates might treat kidney disease, but Christ heals the hardness of the heart. The best physician is the one who heals the most vital part. The soul is immortal and angelic. Man was made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27) — not with respect to his body but his soul. Since the soul is so divine and noble, healing the soul far exceeds any healing of the body.

Christ is the best physician because He causes people to feel their disease. The sickness of sin, though the most deadly, is the least felt. Many people are spiritually sick, but the devil has given them such numbing medicine that they sleep the sleep of death — and all the thunder of the Word cannot wake them. But the Lord Jesus, this blessed physician, wakes the soul out of its stupor, and then there is real hope of recovery. The jailer was never closer to a cure than when he cried out: "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" (Acts 16:30)

Christ shows more love to His patients than any other physician has ever shown. This appears in five ways.

In the long journey He made from heaven to earth.

In that He comes to His patients without being called. Ordinarily the sick send for their physicians and make many appeals. But this physician comes on His own initiative. "I was found by those who did not seek Me" (Isaiah 65:1). He reaches us with mercy before we reach out to Him. He pleads with us to be healed. Had Christ not first come to us and — like the good Samaritan — poured in wine and oil, we would have died of our wounds.

This physician shed His own blood to cure His patient (Isaiah 53:5): "He was pierced through for our transgressions" — through His wounds we can see straight into His heart.

Our rejection and unkindness does not drive Christ away from us. An ordinary physician, when provoked by a patient, leaves in anger and does not return. We abuse our physician, push Him away, and shut the door on Him. Yet Christ does not abandon us. He comes again and again, applying His healing balm. "I have spread out My hands all day long to a rebellious people" (Isaiah 65:2). Christ absorbs our wrongs and returns, determined to complete the cure. What love this heavenly physician shows!

Christ Himself drank the bitter cup that we deserved to drink — and by His taking the medicine, we are healed and saved. No physician has ever shown such love to a patient.

Christ is the most affordable physician. Sickness wastes not only the body but the purse. Physicians' fees are a burden, but Jesus Christ gives His medicine freely at no charge (Isaiah 55:1): "Come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost." He asks us to bring nothing to Him but broken hearts. And when He has healed us, all He asks in return is our love — which could hardly seem more reasonable.

Christ heals with more ease than any other physician. Other physicians use pills, potions, and bloodletting. Christ heals with simpler means — with a word. Christ drove out a demon with a single spoken command (Mark 9:25). So when the soul is spiritually oppressed, Christ can heal with a word. He can even heal with a look. When Peter had fallen into sin, Christ looked at him — and Peter wept. Christ's look melted Peter into repentance. It was a healing look. If Christ simply casts a look upon the soul, He can restore it. This is why David prays for a look from God (Psalm 119:132): "Turn to me and be gracious to me."

Christ is the most tenderhearted physician. He has ended His suffering, but not His compassion. How deeply He cares for sick souls! He is no less full of sympathy than of skill (Hosea 11:8): "My heart is turned within Me." Christ shows His compassion by matching His medicine to the patient's strength. Medicine that is too strong for a frail constitution endangers life. Christ gives medicine that is gentle enough to work kindly and bring real healing. Though He will press sinners, He will not break the bruised reed. What a stirring of Christ's heart toward poor souls who feel themselves heartsick with sin! He holds their head when they are fainting. He brings the restoratives of His promises to keep the sick patient from slipping away. Christians, you may have dark thoughts about your physician Christ — thinking He is harsh and means to destroy you. But consider the movements of His heart toward humble and broken-hearted sinners! Psalm 147:3: "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Every groan from the patient goes to the heart of this physician.

Physicians sometimes prescribe medicine that harms the patient in two situations. Either they have not identified the true cause of the disease and give the wrong treatment — something heating when cooling is needed. Or they identify the cause correctly but the treatment that helps one condition harms another. This happens when both the liver and spleen are diseased — the medicine that helps the liver may harm the spleen. But Christ always prescribes exactly the right treatment, and He also blesses the treatment. If the soul's disease is pride, He humbles it with affliction. God turned Nebuchadnezzar out to eat grass to cure his swelling arrogance. If the soul's disease is laziness, Christ applies some rousing scripture (Matthew 12:11; Luke 13:24; 1 Peter 4:18). If the disease is hardness of heart, Christ uses appropriate remedies — sometimes the force of the law's warnings, sometimes His mercies, sometimes He dissolves the hardness in His own blood. If the soul is fainting through unbelief, Christ brings some scripture to revive it (Matthew 12:20): "A bruised reed He will not break." Isaiah 57:16: "I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry; for the spirit would grow faint before Me, and the breath of those whom I have created." So the Lord Jesus always prescribes the treatment that fits the disease and will work effectively toward the cure.

Christ never fails to achieve a successful outcome. Physicians may have skill but not always results — patients often die under their care. But Christ never undertakes to heal anyone without completing the cure (John 17:12): "Those whom You gave Me I have kept, and not one of them was lost." Judas was not given to Christ to be healed. But no one who was given to Christ has ever perished.

How can I know that I am one of those given to Christ to be healed?

Ask yourself: do you feel like a sick patient who knows he will die without the physician? Do you sense yourself bleeding to death without the balm of Gilead? Then you are one of Christ's patients, and you will never die under His care. How could any of those perish whom Christ has undertaken to heal? As He applies the balm of His blood, He also pours out the fragrance of His prayers for them (John 17:11): "Holy Father, keep them in Your name which You have given Me." Satan could never charge Christ with losing a single one of His patients.

Other physicians can only help those who are sick, but Christ heals those who are dead (Ephesians 2:1): "He made you alive, you who were dead in your trespasses and sins." A sinner shows all the signs of death — the pulse of his affections does not beat, he does not breathe after holiness. But Christ is a physician for the dead. Of every person Christ heals, it may truly be said: he was dead and is alive again (Luke 15:32).

Christ heals not only our diseases but our deformities. An earthly physician can restore a sick person to health, but if he is deformed, he cannot make him beautiful. Christ gives not only health but beauty. Sin has made us ugly and misshapen. Christ's treatments do not merely remove the sickness — they remove the disfigurement. He not only makes us well but lovely (Hosea 14:4-6): "I will heal their apostasy... his beauty will be like the olive tree." Jesus Christ does not consider the healing complete until He has drawn His own beautiful image upon the soul. Christ not only heals but adorns. He is called the Sun of Righteousness (Malachi 4:2) — not only because of the healing under His wings but because of the rays of beauty He places upon the soul.

Christ is the most generous physician. Ordinarily patients enrich their physicians — here the physician enriches the patient. Christ advances all His patients. He does not just cure them — He crowns them (Revelation 2:10). He not only raises them from the sickbed but to the throne. He gives the sick person not only health but heaven.

Here is good news: there is balm in Gilead — there is a physician to heal sin-sick souls. The angels who fell had no physician sent to them — but we have One. The Sun of Righteousness has risen in our world, with healing in His wings. If a person had been poisoned, what a comfort to hear there was an herb in the garden that could heal him! Sinner, you are full of corrupting disease — your soul is deeply infected. But there is a physician who can restore you. Though there is an ancient serpent to sting us with his temptations, there is a bronze serpent to heal us with His blood.

Since Christ is a physician, make use of Him for your diseased soul. "As the sun was setting, all who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to Him, and He laid His hands on every one of them and healed them" (Luke 4:40). You who have put off seeking a physician until now — while the sun of the Gospel and the sun of your life is nearly setting, bring your sick soul to Christ to be healed. Christ grieves that though people are sick to death, they will not come to their physician (John 5:40): "You are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life." In physical illness the physician is the first one sought. In soul-sickness the physician is the last one sought. But here are several objections that troubled souls raise against coming to Christ their physician.

Objection one: I am discouraged from going to Christ because of my unworthiness. Like the centurion who sent to Christ about his sick servant (Luke 7:6): "Lord, do not trouble Yourself further, for I am not worthy for You to come under my roof." So many a trembling soul says: Christ is a physician — but who am I that He should come under my roof and heal me! I am unworthy of mercy, as Mephibosheth said to King David (2 Samuel 9:8): "What is your servant, that you should regard a dead dog like me?" To those whose hearts are broken by a sense of their own unworthiness, and who are discouraged from coming to Christ, let me say five things in reply.

Who did Christ shed His blood for if not the unworthy? (1 Timothy 1:15): "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." Christ came into the world as into a hospital, to a company of lame and bedridden souls.

Though we are not worthy by any legal standard, we may be worthy in the Gospel sense. Part of our worthiness is to see our own unworthiness. "Do not fear, you worm Jacob" (Isaiah 41:14). You may be a worm in your own eyes — yet a dove in God's eyes.

Though we are unworthy, Christ is worthy. We do not deserve healing, but Christ has earned mercy for us. He has an abundance of blood to supply what our tears could never cover.

Who has ever been saved because they were worthy? What worthiness was there in Paul before his conversion? What worthiness was there in Mary Magdalene, out of whom seven demons had been cast? But free grace pitied them and healed them. God does not find us worthy — He makes us worthy.

If we wait until we are worthy before we come to Christ to be healed, we will never come at all. And let me tell you — this talk of worthiness has the scent of pride. We want to have something of our own to bring. We imagine that if only we had sufficient preparation and personal virtue, then Christ would accept us. This is trying to pay our physician for a cure we can never earn. Do not let a sense of unworthiness stop you. Come to Christ to be healed (Mark 10:49): "Take courage; get up, He is calling for you."

Objection two: I fear I am not within the scope of Christ's commission. I am not among those who are appointed to be saved — and so even though Christ is a physician, I will not be healed.

We must guard against drawing despairing conclusions about ourselves. It is extreme presumption for us to claim to know more than the angels. All the angels in heaven cannot resolve this question: who are the elect and who are not?

You say you are not within the scope of Christ's commission. Read Christ's commission again and see who He came to heal (Luke 4:18): "He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted." Has God touched your heart with genuine sorrow for sin? Do you grieve over your failures and ingratitude toward Christ? Do you weep more out of love for Christ than out of fear of hell? Then you are a brokenhearted sinner — and you are within the scope of Christ's commission. A bleeding Christ will heal a broken heart.

Objection three: my sins are so many that I can never be healed. I am sick with many diseases at once.

Then you have all the more need of a physician. Is it a reasonable argument to say to a physician: I am diseased, so stay away from me? No — it is the very reason to say: come and heal me. Our sins should humble us, not drive us away from Christ. If we had no diseases, Christ would have no work to do in the world.

Objection four: my disease has worsened and reached a critical state — my sin has greatly increased.

The healing that Christ's blood provides is wider than your wound. "The blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin" (1 John 1:7). All sins are alike to Christ's blood. He can cure the greatest sin just as easily as the smallest. Do you have an open, flowing wound of sin? The wound in Christ's side can heal yours.

Objection five: my disease is old and deeply rooted, and I fear it is past curing.

Though your disease is long-standing, Christ can heal it. Christ does not say: if this disease had been treated sooner it might have been cured. He is skilled at old wounds. The thief on the cross had an old, festering disease — but Christ cured it in a moment. Zacchaeus was a long-established sinner — a tax collector who had wronged many — but Christ healed him. Christ sometimes grafts His grace onto an old root. We read that Christ healed people at the sun's setting (Luke 4:40) — He heals some sinners at the very sunset of their lives.

Objection six: after being healed, my disease has broken out again. I have relapsed into the same sin — and so I fear there is no healing for me.

It is rare that God allows His children to experience such relapses, though it is possible — through the withdrawal of grace and the pressure of temptation — to fall back into sin. These relapses into sin are grievous. They open the mouth of conscience to accuse and silence the voice of God's Spirit that would otherwise speak peace. But if the soul is genuinely humbled — if the one who has relapsed is a repenting sinner — let him not drop the anchor of hope but return to his soul-physician. Jesus Christ can cure a relapse. He healed David's relapse and Cranmer's relapse. "If anyone sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous" (1 John 2:1). Christ appears in the court as the advocate for the client. As He poured out His blood on the cross, so He pours out His prayers at the heavenly altar (Hebrews 7:25): "He always lives to make intercession for them." So do not be discouraged from going to your physician. Though your disease has broken out again, Christ has fresh applications of His blood for you. He can cure a relapse.

Objection seven: there is no healing for me — I fear I have committed the sin against the Holy Spirit.

The very fact that you fear you have committed it is a sign that you have not.

Let me ask: why do you think you have committed the sin against the Holy Spirit? Is it because you have grieved the Spirit of God?

Not every grieving of the Spirit amounts to that fatal sin. We grieve the Spirit when we sin against His light. When the Spirit is grieved, He may withdraw for a time, taking away all His comfort and leaving the soul in darkness (Isaiah 50:10). But not every grieving of the Spirit is the sin against the Holy Spirit. When a child of God sins, his conscience strikes him. And the person whose conscience strikes him for sin has not committed the unpardonable sin. When a child of God has grieved the Spirit, he does what Noah did — when the dove flew out of the ark, he opened the window to let it back in. A godly person does not shut his heart against the Spirit the way a wicked person does (Acts 7:51). He opens his heart to welcome the Spirit back in. Christian, is that not how it is with you? Then take heart — you have not sinned the sin against the Holy Spirit. That sin involves a malicious and deliberate rejection of the Spirit — which you tremble even to contemplate.

So put aside all these doubts and objections. Whatever the diseases of your soul may be, come to Christ for healing. Believe in His blood and you can be saved. You have seen what a skilled and able physician Christ is — what powerful remedies He has, how eager He is to cure sick souls. What remains but to cast yourself on His merits to heal and save you? Of all sins, unbelief is the worst — because it insults Christ, as if He were unable to produce a cure. Christian, trust your physician (John 3:15): "that whoever believes in Him shall not perish." Say as Queen Esther said (Esther 4:16): "I will go in to the king, which is against the law — and if I perish, I perish." So say: the Lord Jesus is a physician who can heal me. I will commit myself to His blood. If I perish, I perish. I have a promise that invites me to come to Christ (John 6:37): "The one who comes to Me I will certainly not cast out." Faith is a healing grace. We read that when the Israelites were burying a man and in haste threw him into the tomb of Elisha, as soon as he touched the bones of the prophet, he came back to life and stood up (2 Kings 13:21). So if a person is dead in sin, let him be cast into Christ's grave — let him by faith touch Christ who was dead and buried — and he will come alive, and his soul will be healed. There is no path to a cure except through faith. A healing plaster, however powerful, does nothing for a wound unless it is applied to it. Even if the plaster is made from Christ's own blood, it will not heal unless it is applied by faith. The bronze serpent was a powerful remedy — but those who did not look at it received no benefit. So though there is healing power in Christ, unless we look to Him with the eye of faith, we cannot be healed. Above all else, seek faith. This is the all-healing grace — this hand that reaches out and touches Christ draws healing from Him.

Not that faith has more intrinsic worth than other graces — but it is uniquely effective because it unites us to Christ. If a person had a stone set in a ring that could heal many diseases, we might say the ring heals — but it is not the ring, it is the stone in the ring that does the work. So faith saves and heals — not by its own power, but by laying hold of Christ and drawing His life-giving grace down into the soul.

Since Jesus Christ is the spiritual physician, labor to hasten the healing of your soul.

Think how little time we have left here — and let that urgency drive you toward the cure. Solomon says there is a time to be born and a time to die (Ecclesiastes 3:2) — he mentions no time for living, as if life were too brief to deserve mention. The body is called a vessel (1 Thessalonians 4:4). This vessel is filled with breath. Sickness drains its contents, and death empties it entirely. Hasten your soul's cure. Death is on its swift march, and if it catches you unprepared, there is no cure to be found in the grave (Ecclesiastes 9:10): "There is no activity or planning or knowledge or wisdom in the grave where you are going."

Now is truly the season for healing. Now is the day of grace. Now Christ pours out His remedies; now He sends out His ministers and His Spirit. "Behold, now is the acceptable time" (2 Corinthians 6:2). In earlier times there were certain days when the king would heal those suffering from a particular illness. The day of grace is such a healing day. If we neglect the day of grace, the next day that comes for us will be a day of wrath (Romans 2:5). Hasten the healing of your soul. Rather go without food than go without the cure. Sin will not only kill — it will condemn.

To obtain the cure:

Come to the healing waters of the sanctuary. The Spirit of God may suddenly stir those waters. Next Sunday, for all you know, may be a healing day for your soul.

Ask others to pray for you. When your body is sick, you seek the prayers of others. The prayers of God's people are powerful medicines and balms for sick souls.

Is Jesus Christ a physician of the soul? Then let me speak to those who have been in some measure healed of their deadly disease. I have four things to say.

First, break forth in thankfulness. Though sin is not yet fully eradicated and there are still stirrings of the disease, its ruling power has been broken. You have been healed enough that you will not die of it (John 3:16; John 11:26). Those who were healed by the bronze serpent eventually died of other causes. But those healed by Christ will never truly die. Sin may trouble you — but it will not condemn you. How much cause you have to love and praise your physician! The Lord Jesus has drawn out the core of your disease and broken its curse. Share what God has done for you (Psalm 66:16): "Come and hear, all who fear God, and I will tell of what He has done for my soul." Think of a man cured of a long-standing illness — how glad and grateful he is! He tells everyone about the medicine that healed him. Say the same: let me tell you what God has done for my soul. He has cured me of an old disease — a hard and unbelieving heart — a disease that has sent millions to hell. Truly we can endure any other sickness if this soul-sickness is cured. Luther said: Lord, strike and wound me wherever You will — if only sin is pardoned. Let the high praises of God be always in your mouth (Psalm 149:6). God expects thankfulness as His due. He marvels when people fail to bring it (Luke 17:17): "Were there not ten cleansed? But where are the nine?"

Second, if you have been healed, be careful to avoid infected company, lest you catch the disease again. The wicked function like spiritual agents of temptation. Lot was a marvel to his generation — he lived in Sodom when it was a breeding ground of disease and yet did not catch the infection.

Third, guard against relapse. After recovering from illness, people are rightly afraid of falling sick again — so beware of spiritual relapse. Has God softened your heart? Take care not to let it harden again. Has He healed you in some measure of spiritual deadness? Do not slip back into drowsy complacency. Such a relapse can bring such turmoil and agony of conscience that you may go weeping to your grave. Take great care not to fall sick again. "Do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you" (John 5:14).

Fourth, have pity on those around you who are sick to death. Show your godliness through your compassion. Do you have a child who is physically healthy but spiritually sick? Pity him and pray for him. David wept and fasted for his sick child (2 Samuel 12:16). Your child carries the plague of sin in his heart — and you passed it on to him. Weep and fast on his behalf. Do you have a spouse who — while able to walk around — is inwardly sick, in the grip of sin's ruling power? Let your heart ache for them. Lift up a prayer on their behalf. The prayer of faith can save a sick soul. Prayer is the most powerful medicine available in a desperate case. You who have experienced both the disease of sin and the mercy of your physician — learn from that experience to pity others.

Is Christ a physician of souls? Then let us go to Christ to heal this sick and dying nation. England — God knows — is a sick patient. The whole head is sick; the whole heart is faint. The body of the nation suffers from a deep, systemic illness. Those in authority, the ministry, and common people alike are diseased — and those who claimed to be our healers have proven to be physicians of no value. We have spent our resources on these physicians, but our wounds are not healed (Jeremiah 14:19): "Why have You stricken us so that we are beyond healing?" Instead of healing us, those who should have been our physicians have made the nation sicker by offering a tolerance of sin — like giving strong drink to a fever patient, which only inflames the disease. England is sick because she is sinful — sick with false doctrine, immorality, and drunkenness — so sick that we may fear the end is near. And the worst sign is that though balm has been poured into her wounds and God's precious ordinances have been applied, she is still not healed — a sign of deep corruption that is hard to cure.

This spiritual sickness in the land has produced dreadful fruit: division, oppression, and bloodshed — the very sinews and arteries of the nation are nearly torn apart, so that God has fulfilled His warning against us (Micah 6:13): "I will make you desolate because of your sins." We have made ourselves sick by sinning, and God has made us sick by striking us. What remains but to go to the great physician of souls — whose blood sprinkles many nations — and plead that He would apply some healing medicine to dying England? God can heal with a single word. He can grant repentance as readily as deliverance. He can set us right again. Let all the people of the land cry out between the porch and the altar: "Spare Your people, O Lord" (Joel 2:17). Our prayers and tears may move Christ to heal us (Psalm 106:23): "Therefore He said that He would destroy them, had not Moses His chosen one stood in the gap before Him, to turn away His wrath from destroying them." Let us never stop imploring our heavenly physician — until He lays His healing hand on England's wound and brings about her recovery.