Calvary Missionary Baptist Church
C. Spurgeon

Chapter 6

THE INVITATION

Do you desire eternal life? Is there within your soul a hungering and a thirsting after such things that may satisfy your
spirit and make you live forever? Then "Come, for now all things are ready" (Luke 14:17)-all, not some, but all. There is
nothing that you need between here and heaven which is not provided in Jesus Christ, in his person and in his work.
All things are ready: life for your death, forgiveness for your sin, cleansing for your filth, clothing for your nakedness,
joy for your sorrow, strength for your weakness, indeed, more than anything you could ever want is stored up in the
boundless nature and work of Christ. You must not say: "I cannot come because I do not have this, or do not have
that." Are you to prepare the feast? Are you to provide anything? Are you bringing even salt or water? You do not know
your true condition, or you would not dream of such a thing. The great householder himself has provided the whole of
the feast, you have nothing to do with the provision but to enjoy it. If you lack anything, come and take what you lack;
the greater your need the greater is the reason why you should come where all things that your need can possibly
want will be at once supplied. If you are so needy that you have nothing good at all about you, all things are ready.
When God has provided all things, what more could you possibly provide? It would be a disgraceful insult if you
thought of adding to his "all things"; it would be a presumptuous competing with the provisions of the Great King, and
this he will not endure. All that you are lacking between the gates of hell, where you now lie, and the gates of heaven, to
which grace will bring you if you believe-all is provided and prepared in Jesus Christ the Saviour.
And all things are ready. Dwell on that word. The oxen and the fatlings were killed; and what is more, they were
prepared to be eaten, they were ready to be feasted on, they smoked on the board. It is something when the king gives
orders for the slaughter of so many bullocks for the feast, but the feast is not ready then; and when the victims fall
beneath the axe, and they are stripped and hung up ready for the fire, something has been done, but they are still not
ready. It is only when the joints are served hot and steaming upon the table, and everything else that is wanted is
brought out and laid in proper order for the banquet that all things are ready, and this is the case now. At this very
moment you will find the feast is in the best possible condition; it was never better and never can be better than it is
now. All things are ready, in the exact condition that you need them to be, in exactly the right condition that is best for
your soul's comfort and enjoyment. All things are ready; nothing needs to be further mellowed or sweetened,
everything is as perfect as eternal love can make it.
But notice the word "now." "All things are now ready"-just now, at this moment. At feasts, you know, the good
housewife is often troubled if the guests come late. She would be sorry if they came half an hour too soon, but half an
hour too late spoils everything, and she is in a great state of fret and worry when all things are ready yet her friends still
delay. Leave food in the oven awhile, and it does not seem to be "now ready," but more than ready, and even spoiled.
So the great householdler lays stress upon this, all things are now ready, therefore come at once.
He does not say that if you delay for another seven years all things will then be ready: God grant that long before that
space of time you may have got beyond the need to be persuaded to become a taster of the feast, but he says that
everything is ready now, just now. Just now that your heart is so heavy and your mind is so careless, that your spirit is
so wandering-all things are ready now.
If the reason why a sinner is to come is because all things are ready, then it is idle for him to say, "But I am not ready." It
is clear that all the readiness required on man's part is a willingness to come and receive the blessing which God has
provided. There is nothing else necessary; if men are willing to come, they may come, they will come. Where the Lord
has been pleased to touch the will so that man has a desire towards Christ, where the heart really hungers and thirsts
after righteousness, that is all the readiness which is wanted. All the fitness he requires is that first you feel your need
of him (and that he gives you), and that secondly, in feeling your need of him you are willing to come to him. Willingness
to come is everything. A readiness to believe in Jesus, a willingness to cast the soul on him, a preparedness to accept
him just as he is, because you feel that he is just the Saviour that you need-that is all: there was no other readiness,
there could have been none, in the case of those who were poor and blind, and lame and maimed, yet came to the feast.
The text does not say, "You are ready, therefore come"; that is a legal way of putting the gospel; but it says, "All things
are ready, the gospel is ready, therefore you are to come." As for your readiness, all the readiness that is possibly
wanted is a readiness which the Spirit gives us-namely, willingness to come to Jesus.
Now notice that the unreadiness of those who were asked arose out of their possessions and out of their abilities. One
would not come because he had bought a piece of land. What a great heap Satan casts up between the soul and the
Saviour! With worldly possessions and good deeds he builds an earthwork of huge dimensions between the sinner
and his Lord. Some gentlemen have too many acres ever to come to Christ: they think too much of the world to think
much of him. Many have too many fields of good works in which they are growing crops on which they pride
themselves, and these cause them to feel that they are persons of great importance. Many a man cannot come to Christ
for all things because he has so much already.
Others could not come because they had so much to do, and could do it well-one had bought five yoke of oxen and he
was going to prove them. He was a strong man well able to plow; the reason why he did not come was because he had
so much ability. Thousands are kept away from grace by what they have and by what they can do. Emptiness is more
preparatory to a feast than fullness. How often does it happen that poverty and inability help to lead the soul to Christ.
When a man thinks he is rich he will not come to the Saviour. When a man dreams that he is able at any time to repent
and believe, and to do everything for himself that is wanted, he is not likely to come and by a simple faith repose in
Christ. It is not what you have not, but what you have that keeps many of you from Christ. Sinful Self is a devil, but
Righteous Self is seven devils. The man who feels himself guilty may for a while be kept away by his guilt, but the man
who is self-righteous will never come; until the Lord has taken his pride away from him he will still refuse the feast of
free grace. The possession of abilities and honors and riches keeps men from coming to the Redeemer.
But on the other hand, personal condition does not constitute an unfitness for coming to Christ, for the sad condition
of those who became guests did not debar them from the supper. Some were poor, and doubtless wretched and
ragged; they did not have a penny to bless themselves with, as we say. Their garments were tattered, perhaps worse,
they were filthy; they were not fit to be near respectable people, they would certainly be no credit to my Lord's table;
but those who went to bring them in did not search their pockets, nor look at their coats, but they fetched them in. They
were poor, but the messengers were told to bring in the poor, and therefore they brought them. Their poverty did not
prevent their being ready; and Oh, poor soul, if you are poor literally, or poor spiritually, neither sort of poverty
constitutes an unfitness for divine mercy. If you are brought to your last penny, or even if that penny is spent and you
have pawned everything you have, yet are still up to your eyes in debt and think that there is nothing left for you but to
be laid by the heels in prison forever, nevertheless you may come, poverty and all.
Another class of them were maimed, and so were not very attractive in appearance: an arm had been lopped off, or an
eye had been gouged out. One had lost a nose, and another a leg. They were in all stages and shapes of
dismemberment. Sometimes we turn our heads away, and feel that we would rather give anything than look upon
beggars who show their wounds, and describe how they were maimed. But it did not matter how badly they were
disfigured; they were brought in, and not one of them was repulsed because of the ugly cuts he had received. So, poor
soul, however Satan may have torn and lopped you, and whatsoever condition he may have brought you to, so that
you feel ashamed to live; nevertheless this does not make you unfit for coming, you may come to his table of grace just
as you are. Moral disfigurements are soon rectified when Jesus takes the character in hand. Come to him, however
sadly you are injured by sin.
There were others who were lame. They had lost a leg, or it was of no use to them, and they could not come except with
the help of a crutch; but nevertheless that was no reason why they were not welcome. Ah, if you find it difficult to
believe, that is no reason why you should not come and receive the grand absolution which Jesus Christ is ready to
bestow upon you. Lame with doubting and distrusting, nevertheless come to the supper and say, "Lord, I believe; help
my unbelief."
Others were blind, and when they were told to come they could not see the way, but in that case the messenger was
not told to tell them to come, he was commanded to bring them, and a blind man can come if he is brought. All that was
wanted was willingness to be led by the hand in the right direction. Now you who cannot fully understand the gospel as
you wish to do, who are puzzled and muddled, put your hand into the hand of Jesus, and be willing to believe what you
cannot comprehend, and to grasp in confidence that which you are not yet able to measure with your understanding.
The blind, however ignorant or uninstructed they are, shall not be kept away because of that.
Then there were the men in the highways, I suppose they were beggars; and the men in the hedges, I suppose they
were hiding, and were probably thieves; but nevertheless they were told to come, and though they were highwaymen
and hedge-birds, even that did not prevent their coming and finding welcome. Though outcasts, spiritual gypsies,
people that nobody cared for; whatever they might be, that was not the question, they were to come because all things
were ready. Come in rags, come in filth, come maimed, come covered with sores, come in all sorts of filthiness and
abomination, yet because all things are ready they were to be brought or to be compelled to come in.
I think it was the very thing, which in any one of these people looked like unfitness, which was a help to them. It is a
great truth that what we regard as unfitness is often our truest fitness. I want you to notice these poor, blind and lame
people. Some of those who were invited would not come because they had bought some land, or five yoke of oxen, but
when the messenger went up to the poor man in rags and said, "Come to the supper," it is quite clear he would not say
he had bought a field, or oxen, for he could not do it, he did not have a penny to do the thing with, so he was delivered
from that temptation. And when a man is invited to come to Christ and he says, "I do not want him, I have a
righteousness of my own," he will stay away; but when the Lord Jesus came along to me I was never tempted in that
way, because I had no righteousness of my own, and could not have made one if I had tried. I know some who could
not patch up a garment of righteousness if they were to put all their rags together, and this is a great help to their
receiving the Lord Jesus. What a blessedness it is to have such a sense of soul-poverty that you will never stay away
from Christ because of what you possess.
Some could not come because they had married a wife. Now I think it very likely that those people who were maimed
and cut were so injured that they had no wife, and perhaps could not get anybody to have them. Well then, they did not
have that temptation to stay away. They were too maimed to attract the eye of anybody who was looking for beauty,
and therefore they were not tempted that way. But they found at the ever-blessed supper of the Lamb an everlasting
wedlock which was infinitely better. Thus do souls lose earthly joys and comforts, and by the loss they gain
supremely: they are therefore made willing to close in with Christ and find a higher comfort and a higher joy. That
maiming which looked like unfitness turned out to be fitness.
One excuse made was, "I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them." The lame could not do that. When the
messenger touched the lame man on the shoulder and said, "Come," he could not say, "I am going out tonight to plow
with my new teams." He had never been over the fields since he had lost his leg, so he could not make such an excuse.
The blind man could not say, "I have bought a piece of land and I must go to see it"; he was free from all lusts of the
eye, and so was all the more ready to be led to the supper. When a soul feels its own sinfulness, and wretchedness and
lost estate, it thinks itself unfit to come to Christ, but this is an assistance to it, since it prevents its looking to anything
else but Christ, kills its excuses, and makes it free to accept salvation by grace.
But how about the men that were in the highway? Well, it seems to me that they were already on the road, and at least
out of their houses, if they had any. If they were out there begging, they were more ready to accept an invitation to a
meal of victuals, for it was that they were singing for. A man who is out of the house of his own self-righteousness,
though he be a great sinner, is in a more favorable position and more likely to come to Christ than he who prides
himself on his supposed self-righteousness.