the fact of transgression. The prominence which we give to that in our
thoughts will largely determine our notions of ourselves, and of
Christ's work, and to a great extent settle what we think Christianity
is for, and what in itself it is. If a man has no deep consciousness of
sin he will be satisfied with a very superficial kind of religion.
'Every man his own redeemer' will be his motto. And not knowing the
necessity for a Saviour, he will not recognise that Christianity is
fundamentally and before anything else, a system of redemption. A moral
agent? Yes! A large revelation of great truth? Yes! A power to make
men's lives, individually and in the community, nobler and loftier? By
all means. But before all these, and all these consequentially on its
being a system by which sinful men, else hopeless and condemned, are
delivered and set free. So, dear brethren! let me press upon you
this,--unless my Christianity gives large prominence to the fact of my
own transgression, and is full of a penitent cry for pardon, it lacks
the one thing needful, I was going to say--it lacks, at all events, that
which will make it a living power blessedly ruling my heart and life.

II. Note in the next place the plea for pardon.

'For Thy name's sake.' The Psalmist does not come with any carefully
elaborated plea, grounded upon anything in himself, either on the
excuses and palliations of his evil, his corrupt nature, his many
temptations, and the like, or on the depth and reality of his
repentance. He does not say, 'Forgive me, for I weep for my evil and
loathe myself.' Nor does he say, 'Forgive me, for I could not help doing
it, or because I was tempted; or because the thing that I have done is a
very little thing after all.' He comes empty-handed, and says, 'For Thy
name's sake, O Lord!'