Thank you so much for your welcome. It's a pleasure to be with you here this morning, and I trust that God will bless what I have to say to you in a moment or two. I want to thank Roger for his welcome too, and I want to thank him for his fellowship, and also for his ministry that has been a great blessing and a challenge to my own heart from time to time. I'm not here sitting in the pews, but in an odd time on a Sunday, I watch online. And I've been always blessed by what I've heard from this pulpit. I want to read this morning from a very familiar passage of Scripture. It's Jeremiah chapter 8. And I know that some of you perhaps are saying already, not another sermon on Jeremiah chapter 8 at harvest time. But maybe it will be a little different today. I want to read the last few verses of this chapter. Jeremiah chapter 8 and reading from verse 18. Jeremiah's speaking here, and he's in a very state of despair, as it were, and lament about the situation amongst the people of God. And this is what he writes, "'When I would comfort myself against sorrow, my heart is faint in me. Behold the voice of the cry of the daughter of my people, because of them that dwell in a far country. Is not the Lord in Zion? Is not her king in her? Why have they provoked me to anger with their graven images and with strange vanities? The harvest is past and the summer has ended, and we are not saved. For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt. I am black. Astonishment hath taken hold in me. Is there no baman Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why, then, is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered? O, that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people. Amen, and may God bless to us his own precious Word. Let's just have a brief prayer. Father, we pray that you will stand among us in your risen power, and may these moments be moments of great blessing and challenge and help from your gracious hand. Give to me the anointing of the Spirit of the living God, a mind to think clearly, a voice to speak clearly. And I pray today that I might know that light and that illumination of the Spirit, and that the word of God may be mixed with faith in those who hear today. And I pray this all in Jesus' name. Amen. I grew up in the heart of the country, and I'm married to a farmer's daughter, and I used to work in the harvest. And some of you will know how old I am when I tell you some of these illustrations. I remember cutting corn with a binder. Many remember a binder. Only a handful, there's a few of us left. And I even remember cutting corn with a reaper. And some of you remember how you had to lay it off, and then you tied up the sheaves and so on. And you know, I worked on the harvest at home for many years and I enjoyed it, but those days we cut with a binder and so on. And then I was invited over to do a mission in the south of Scotland, in the county of Berwickshire, and I stayed with a farmer. And there I saw a combine harvester for the first time, and I thought I knew all about harvesting until I saw the combine harvester, and it was quite a monster as far as I was concerned. I stayed with that farmer, and when I rose in the morning, I could look out the window and I could see the English border miles and miles away, and all that seemed to lie between there and the English border were acres and acres and acres of barley. Here we were cutting corn at that time. And then some years later, I was out preaching in the prairies of Canada, out in Alberta. I stayed again with a farmer. When I looked out the window of his home in the morning, I could see the snow-capped tops of the Rockies, 200 miles away. And it seemed as if all that lay between that farmhouse and the Rockies were acres and acres and acres, not of barley, but of wheat. And he said to me one day, would you like to go down and see them cutting the wheat? And he took me down, and I saw a machine there that I couldn't describe to you. The cutting blade was probably as wide as this church. And you know, sometimes we think the folks in North America brag a little bit and blow a little bit, but I can tell you, when that thing passed you in the prairies, it was a long, long time before it came back again. And you know, harvest is a wonderful time, and I always enjoy the harvest time. But I want to look with you this morning at this text of scripture that has been preached on more times, perhaps, than you could remember on Harvest Sundays. The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and we are not saved. Charles Feinberg, I'm not sure how you pronounce his name, was brought up an Orthodox Jew. studied 14 years. He studied Hebrew for 14 years so that he could become a Jewish rabbi. But in the mercy of God, he was saved. He came to know Jesus Christ as the true Messiah and as his Savior, and he eventually became one of the leading theologians in America, particularly in the Old Testament. And this is what he writes, This was a proverbial saying, meaning the people had lost every opportunity given to them by God. And now they were entirely without hope. One favorable time after another went unheeded. The time has passed, of course, when neither Egypt or their allies can come to the rear. All hope is gone. When Jeremiah sends up this lament, The harvest is past, and the summer has ended, and we are not saved. A proverb, he says, is perhaps a little bit like ours, opportunity seldom strikes twice. Make hay while the sun shines, strike while the iron is hot, or time and tide wait in no man. very solemn passage of Scripture. "'Listen to their cry,' says Jeremiah. "'I can hear them crying, these people, "'in Babylon's captivity. "'But their opportunity's gone. "'The harvest is past, and the summer's ended, "'and we are not saved.'" In Israel, there were two harvests. There was the wheat harvest that lasted from April through to June, and then there was the fruit harvest that came in the summertime. If the first harvest was lost, then they could depend on the summer. But both have come, and both have gone, and they're still not seen. And Jeremiah laments, The harvest is past, the summer has ended, and we are not saved. There are three things in this text that I want to leave with you today. And the first one is this. There's an implication. Now, what is the implication of this text? It's simply this, men and women. Because they're not saved, it implies they should have been saved. I wonder, am I looking at someone this morning in this sanctuary, and, friend, you should have been saved. But here you are this morning and you're still not saved. And for you, the harvest is past and the summer has ended and you're not saved. You know, you could get the best job in Ulster today without being saved. You could get one of the highest positions without being saved. You could become extremely wealthy without being saved. Sometimes you could even become a preacher without being saved. there's one place you can never enter without being saved, and that's heaven, the Christian's eternal home. The implication of my text this morning is this. Because they're not saved, it implies they should have been saved. Now, you might say to me this morning, but why? Should I be saved? Friend, I asked that question, too, prior to my conversion. I asked that question, why? Why should I be saved? Others around me were saved, but why should I be saved? Let me give you three reasons this morning. Friend, you need to be saved, first of all, because of a thing called original sin. I know it's a theological term, but it's something you were born with. something you come into this world with—original sin. And all of us came into the world the very same way. We were born in sin and shaped in iniquity. And we need to be saved today because of original sin—something that we were born with. We didn't learn it. It was there all the time. It was Jonathan Edwards, who was one of the greatest theologians probably that ever lived, who said this, and it's a rather brutal statement, but I think it's really true. He said, We're the rubbish of an atom. We're the rubbish of an atom. What was he referring to? Original sin. We were born with original sin. We lived in a manse for quite a number of years, and at the bottom of the garden, there was a fairly good apple tree. We seldom have ever got apples from it. We were usually away on holiday when the apples were at their best, and when we came back, some of the boys had stripped the tree, and all the apples were gone. But there was one year I did catch them in the garden stealing the apples, and I went down to them, and one wee boy looked up at me and he said, but mister, they're only windfalls. And you know, all I had to do was take one of those apples and look at it. You know how I knew whether it was a windfall? It bore the mark of the fall. every one of us this morning bears the mark of the fall. We come into the world with that mark upon us. We come into the world suffering from original sin, and that's why we need to be saved—because of original sin. All have sinned and come short of the glory of God, says the Scriptures. But you know, we need to be saved not only because of original sin. We need to be saved because of actual sin. Not only is man tainted with sin, but we're guilty of actual sin. It would be a brave man or woman or young person who would stand up this morning in this congregation and say, Mr. Shaw, I've never sinned. You know you're guilty. You know you've sinned. You know you've committed actual sin. I know there are things in my past that I wish I could forget, I wish I'd never done. Would you see we're guilty not only of original sin, but we're guilty of actual sin. And the Apostle John reminds us, if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. We need to be saved because of actual sin. I don't know what that sin is that lurks in your background. I don't know what that sin is that maybe troubled you even this morning. But that's why you need to be saved, friend, because of actual sin, sins we've committed. Philip Henry was the father of the great Bible commentator, Matthew Henry. And he writes like this, we deceive ourselves if we say we are without original sin or without actual sin. And anyone that denies original sin and denies actual sin, you're deceiving yourself. That's why we need to be saved, because of actual sin. And I'm sure all of us feel we're guilty of committing those actual sins. But there's a third reason why we need to be saved. Not just because of original sin and actual sin. Friend, we need to be saved because of the outcome of sin. The Bible states clearly that sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death. the wages of sin—death. Yes, because of the outcome of sin. You know, the Bible speaks of three types of death. It speaks of spiritual death. Spiritual death is separation of the soul from God. And that's how all of us came into the world—separated from God, the soul separated from God. That is spiritual death. But the Bible also speaks of physical death. If spiritual death is a separation of the soul from God, physical death is a separation of body and soul. But there's also eternal death. And the eternal death that the Bible speaks about is separation of both body and soul from God forever. Friends, spiritual death is a sad thing, a tragic thing. Physical death is also a very sad and tragic thing. But oh, eternal death! Separation of both body and soul from God forever. Something dreadful about that, isn't there? have body and soul separated from a loving God forever and ever, from the God who sent the best that he could send to Calvary to die for you, to be separated from him for all eternity. Oh, how horrendous! But this is the implication of my text this morning. Because you're not saved, it implies you should have been saved. And we need to be saved because of original sin and actual sin and the outcome of sin. But the second thing that I see in my text today, as well as an implication, there's an opportunity. Listen to what the prophet says. The harvest is past, and the summer's ended, and we're not saved. We're reminded in the book of Proverbs in chapter 10, verse 15, He that gathereth in the summer is a wise son, but he that sleepeth in the harvest is a son that cometh to shame. Yes, an implication, but an opportunity. Let me say three things about the opportunity. First of all, it's an opportunity that was provided. There was the summer, there was the summer harvest, there was the wheat harvest, but both are gone. Yes, it was an opportunity that was provided, but it's passed. It's gone. Folks, it's a dreadful thing to have had an opportunity and miss it. that opportunity never come again, never ever come again. The harvest is past, and the summer's ended, and we're not saved. I'm not very familiar with what goes on in the Anglican Church, but I know that in the Anglican Church in England, they used to have an organization called the Church Army. It was usually fairly evangelical. And years ago, there was a man in the church army called Captain Taylor. He was asking one occasion if he would go to the prison in Bristol and visit a prisoner by the name of Horatius Bottomley. He went to see Bottomley in his cell, and he wondered how he would start the conversation about Christ and about the things of God. And he began to tell him his testimony. He said, you know, I was converted in a mission that was held in the Colston Hall in Birmingham a number of years ago. The preacher of that mission was a well-known Anglican evangelical, Cannon Hay Aitken. And he says, one night, then, I heard the gospel from that man, and I was moved by the Spirit of God. And that night, I decided to trust Christ as my Savior. And voracious bottomly, this prisoner listened to his testimony. He said to him, was that a Thursday night? It was, said Captain Taylor. It was a Thursday night. And the prisoner looks at him and said, I too was in that meeting. I too heard the gospel. I too was moved that night. But I dug in my heels and I wouldn't accept Christ as my savior. What a difference, he said. Here we are today. I'm a prisoner, and you're a preacher." You see, that man was provided with an opportunity to be saved, but he missed it. Friend, I wonder, have you missed your last opportunity? I wonder, have you? An opportunity that was provided. I don't believe there's a single soul in this church this morning that hasn't had an opportunity to come to Christ. Friend, you've heard the gospel time without number. You've heard it over and over and over again. You've heard it from your youth. You heard it in adolescence. You've heard it now when you're old. And the opportunity has been provided. Don't be like Horatius Bottomley and miss it. But this opportunity was not only an opportunity provided, it was an opportunity to prepare. God has given us great gospel opportunities. Friend, they're not just for wasting. God has given us them to prepare. I wonder, have you done anything about it? Has God given you this glorious opportunity—hear the gospel—to be saved? But oh, you have done absolutely nothing about it. I remember when I was quite a lot younger, I was conducting a mission in a little hall just between the town of Portlanone and Resharkin. I was out visiting one afternoon around some of the homes, and in those days it was just an old bicycle you had, you hadn't the luxury of a car. And I was on my way back to the house where I was staying during the mission, and I noticed an old man in a field cutting some lying corn. And some of you know what I mean. He was cutting it with a scythe. I thought I'll go over and ask this man to come to the mission. I laid the bike up against the hedge and I climbed over the hedge and went across the field to where he was, and I introduced myself and told him what I was about. And he looked at me and he said this, young fellow, there's no point in me going to your mission. I said, why? He said, I attended a mission in that hall. He told me how many years ago it was. And he says, I went to that mission every night, and I heard the gospel, and God spoke to me, and I should have been saved, but I didn't get saved. And he said, from that day to this, I haven't the least interest in the things of God. I haven't the least interest. He said, there's no point in me going, for I'll never be saved. God's Spirit will not always strive with man. What a sad, sad story. And I'm sure that could be multiplied many times in this province of ours. An opportunity to prepare I remember going to the peat moss when men were cutting peat years ago when I was a boy, and they would work there in the summer, and some of them stripped to the waist in the heat of the sun, and they'd be digging peats, and it was a laborious job, and they did things with it, and then they carted it home. Why did they do it? Why did they labor in the heat of the summer sun? They did it, men and women, because the winter was coming. The snow might fall, the frost would bite, the rain would beat, the wind would howl, and they wondered if something close at home to keep the home fires burning. And they took the opportunity to prepare. They took the opportunity to prepare. We live in what I probably would call a semi-rural community. We're at the edge of a village, and a few steps takes us into the fields. And one night at two o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of a tractor engine. And I wondered what it was, and I got up to see. It was a man trying to harvest at two o'clock in the morning, a farmer. You know why he was doing it? He didn't want to miss the opportunity. of harvesting while the weather was good and before the harvest might be lost. So he took the opportunity to prepare. David Livingstone is probably a name known to everyone. Out to Africa, he died in Africa. The natives carried him 1,500 miles to the coast to bring him back to England. He was given a state funeral and he's buried in Westminster Abbey. When that funeral was passing through the streets of London, somebody saw an old tramp standing on the footpath, and the tears were running down his cheeks. And somebody said to him, did you know David Livingstone? And in a broad Scottish accent, he said this, aye, I ken Davy. Davy and me went to school together. But Davy took the ruck road, and I took the rung. David Livingstone took the opportunity to prepare, but this man didn't. Friend, it was an opportunity, provided an opportunity to prepare, but thirdly, it was an opportunity that passed. The harvest is past and the summer's ended, and we're not saved. The harvest passed, summer's ended, and we're not saved. Some of these mornings, friends, you'll make the breakfast for the last time. Some of these days, you'll eat your dinner for the last time. Some of these nights, you'll go to bed for the last time. Some of these days, you'll go out to work for the last time. You'll go to school for the last time. You'll head off to university for the last time. The harvest will be past. Summer will be ended. you're not saved. It's an opportunity that passed. What a tragedy—an opportunity that passed. I wonder, has it already passed for you? When are you going to let it pass another harvest? Here we are with every indication of God's rich provision. Here we are with every evidence of God's mighty creative power. And here we are this morning, aware of the gospel of Jesus Christ, but are you going to let the opportunity pass? Pass. When our children were younger, we used to go to the south of England for holidays sometimes. We started off camping and then caravaning, and finally we were able to stay somewhere nice. We used to go to Bournemouth, and I don't know whether you've been there or not, but it was beautiful. I think the summers were much better in those days. And, you know, there were the beaches, and they were crowded, and there were the ice cream shops, and all the things you get on the beach, and it was just wonderful. The sun was shining, and it was a lovely place to go. You know, I was back in Bournemouth one year preaching at a convention. It was the month of November. Oh, it was misty, it was cold, and I thought I'll take a walk out along the beach there just to see what it's like in November. Friend, there were no ice cream stands. There was nobody on the beach lying sunbathing. The little huts that you have there were all closed up. I think I saw one man walking a dog. You see, the season was over. The season was over. That season might come again, but it was over, and it was different. And the season will pass. The opportunity will pass for getting saved. The harvest is past, and the summer's ended, and we're not saved. Yes, there's an implication in my text. There's an opportunity. But the last thing I see in this text is this, there's a tragedy. And the tragedy, men and women, is summed up in two simple words, not saved, not saved. I think it was C.H. Spurgeon who once said, these two words are like a peel of thunder, not saved, not saved. Is that where you are this morning? whether you're down in the main body of the church or up there on the balcony. Friend, are you not saved this morning? What a terrible place to be—not saved. Let me say three things about this, and I'm finished. The first thing I notice about this is this fact. It's an unnecessary tragedy. Dear people, there is no need for one single soul to be unsaved. You know why? Because one day a man called Jesus went to a cross in Calvary, suffered, bled, and died, and gave his life for ransom for you and for me. He provided a way out from sin and a way through to God. He paid a price that none of us could pay. He died for you. there's no need for one single soul to be unsaved. It's an unnecessary tragedy. I wonder, will you look, as it were, to Calvary this morning and see that bleeding sacrifice, that man dying, making one sacrifice for sin forever? He's doing it on your behalf, dear soul. And it's an unnecessary tragedy. You don't need to be unsaved. but you still are. The second thing is this. For many people, it's an unintentional tragedy. I spent almost 50 years in the Christian ministry. I'm retired now and still preaching, but I'm not just coming in contact with so many people as I used to. And I don't know how many times I've spoken to folk during those 50 years. they've said to me, but Mr. Sho, I don't intend to die not saved. I intend one day to get right with God. I intend someday to trust Christ as my Savior. Folks, I've walked behind their coffins to the graveyard. I never knew of them coming to Christ. They left no testimony. There was no evidence that Jesus Christ had come to live in their soul, that the very life of God was in them. No, no, no. Their intentions were good, but they never came to anything. And these two words that describe a tragedy not saved, friend, they're unnecessary, but it's a non-intentional thing with many. And there could be somebody in this church this morning just like that. You sit here Sunday by Sunday, you hear the gospel, and you've heard it for years and years and years, and you say, oh, I intend to get saved, but it hasn't happened. Watch, men and women, that that opportunity doesn't go and go forever, and all your intentions were of no value, no good. Not only is it an unnecessary tragedy and a non-intentional tragedy, Folks, it's a non-ending tragedy. It's a non-ending tragedy. If you die in your sin, die without Christ, friend, you're lost through a long eternity. Lost through a long eternity. Often think of the rich farmer there in Luke chapter 12. The harvest was great, his barns were too small. He was going to pull them down and build greater. But God says, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee. The harvest passed, the summer's ended, and you're not saved. Let me tell you a rather sad story as I finish. I remember some years ago when I was still in the ministry, Mabel was out at the ladies' meeting, and I was looking after our two children. I heard the doorbell ring in the manse, and I went to the door, and there was the church treasurer of the church where I was at the time. He was on the doorstep, and I brought him in, and he said, Mr. Shaw, I wonder, would you do a little favor for me? He said, I have a young niece. She's 22 years of age, she's riddled with cancer, she's married, she's got a little child, and she's dying. She's in hospital dying, and she doesn't know Christ as her Savior. She said, would you go and see if you could talk to her? She belonged to another church where the minister visited, but he never talked to her about her soul. I agreed to go. I went the next morning to Montgomery House. Some of you will remember it. It was the place where people were treated for cancer in those days. I went to the sister in the ward, and I said to her, I said, you've got a patient here. I told her the name, and she said, yes. She said, have you seen this girl? I said, no, I've never seen her. I'm only here at the request of one of the family members to see her. So she told me that she wasn't a pretty sight. I went into the little ward, and there was this young woman lying. She couldn't see. The cancer had taken her eyesight. If I described her as skin and bone, I would be under-describing. She was just bone, rather. And I began to speak to her, and I started to talk to her about her soul, about the things of eternity. And at the end, I knew I was exhausting her a little bit, and I said to her, I said, What about it? Will you not come to know Christ as your Savior? And she said this to me, she says, Mr. Shaw, I'm a very private person, and I feel I could make this decision better on my own. So I prayed with her and I left. I felt I should go back the next day, but when I did decide to go back, she'd been moved to the Royal, and I went to see her in the Royal. And that night before this, the group came round. There used to be a group of singers in the Royal. I think they called themselves the Sunshine Singers. They would go round the wards and they would sing and they would ask the patients for requests. And when I went to see her in the Royal, She was lying in a little cubicle again, and I went into her, and I said to her, Irene, did you do what you promised you would do? And she told me this story. She said, Mr. Shaw, last night the singers came, and they asked me would I like a hymn sung. And they sang that lovely hymn, just as I am without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bidst me come to thee. And with the strength that she had, she cried out and missed her show, I've come. I've come. I've come. No, I left Irene that day. A couple of days later, I walked behind her, coughing into a little cemetery in Cumber and County Down. But as I left her that day and I drove back through the city, we were living out in East Belfast on the Hollywood Road in the Belmont area there, and I had to drive through the city. And I saw in the center of the city businessmen going about their business. I saw young fellows out of school running through the streets. They had their sports gear and all the rest of it. I saw ladies with their bags of shopping. You know, the thought struck me, how better off is Irie? lying in that hospital bed, dying with cancer, but a soul saved. Then all these people bound me with energy, and probably their soul's not saved. Probably their soul's not saved. Elisha Hoffman was an American pastor, and he wrote that great hymn, Where Will You Spend Eternity? And I finish with this third verse. Leaving the straight and narrow way, going the downward road today, sad will their final ending be, lost through a long eternity. Eternity, eternity. Lost through a long eternity. An implication—because they're not saved, it implies they should have been. An opportunity—an opportunity provided, an opportunity that was to prepare, and an opportunity that passed, and a tragedy not saved. May God bless his word to our hearts for his name's sake. Thank you. Let's just unite our hearts together, please, in prayer. I believe that God has been speaking. There's been a real sense of the nearness of the Lord, and this word has come to our hearts afresh. And you have sat, perhaps, for many, many years, many harvests, many missions, and you could have been saved, and you should have been saved. But this morning, you're still not saved. Those are some of the most solemn words in all the Bible, not saved. What about your soul this morning? What about your salvation? Why not call upon the Lord just now in the closing moments of this service, and ask the Lord to be your Savior, just as I am without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me. and that thou bidst me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come. Will you come to Christ this morning? Even in these closing moments, call upon the name of the Lord, acknowledge your need, trust Christ as your Saviour, and call upon His name. If we can help you, if you want to wait behind for a little while, we would love to talk to you. But make this your time for God's salvation. Don't harden your heart. We thank God's servant for coming, for opening the Word of God, for honesty, for sincerity, and for clarity in the preaching of the Word. But don't let this Word fall to the crowd. You respond to it and call upon the name of the Lord. Let's pray together. Father, we believe that in a special way the Spirit of God is with us this morning. Lord, thy Word has been opened and read. And the claims and the truths of this familiar verse pressed upon us with freshness. And Lord, thou knowest that there are some, and this word applies to them, Lord, they need to be saved. And there have been many times, oh God, when they could have been saved. But Lord, maybe just now still not saved from the power and penalty of sin. O God, we pray that they will seize upon this opportunity and respond in faith to the call of God, and in simple childlike trust, call upon the Lord Jesus Christ to be their Savior. Lord God, we pray for this congregation. We ask, O God, that thou will grant, Lord, that there might be salvation, even household salvation wrought in hearts and lives this morning. Accept of her thanks, O God, for thy word. Write it, Lord, upon her hearts. Bless the one who has brought it. And grant, Lord, that in the Savior's name and for thy glory that thou wilt save precious souls. Hear and answer prayer. We ask it in the Savior's name. Amen.