A Golden Prayer — C.H. Spurgeon

The Golden Prayer and Its Meaning in Christ

Metropolitan Tabernacle pulpit, a golden prayer, a sermon delivered on Lord's Day morning December 30th, 1877 by C .H. Virgin at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. Father, glorify thy name. John 12 verse 28.

In the first part of my discourse this morning I shall strictly keep to my text as the words of our Lord Jesus Christ and endeavor to show what it teaches us with regard to him. These are his own words and it would be robbery to borrow them until first we have seen what they meant as they fell from his lips.

Their most golden meaning must be seen in the light of his sacred countenance. Then in the second part of my sermon I shall try to point out how the petition before us may be used by ourselves and I pray that divine grace may be given us, that it may be engraven upon our hearts and that each one of us may be taught by the Holy Spirit daily to say for himself, Father, glorify thy name.

I would suggest that these words should be to all the Lord's people in this church their motto for another year and indeed their prayer throughout life. It will as well be seen the beginner in grace as the right believer.

It will be proper both at the wicked gate of faith and at the portals of glory like a lovely rainbow. Let the prayer, Father, glorify thy name, overarch the whole period of our life on earth. I cannot suggest a better petition for the present moment nor indeed for any moment of our pilgrimage.

Let us close the old year with it and open the door of the new to the same note. As for the past, Father, glorify thy name. In the present, fulfill this desire unto thy servants and in the future do it yet more abundantly.

Let us look then at the words first of all in respect to our Lord Jesus Christ. They occur in the following connection. He had wrought a notable miracle in the raising of Lazarus from the dead. The fame of the miracle had attracted many to hear him.

Enthusiastic crowds had gathered and he had become so extremely popular that the Pharisees said, The world hath gone after him. The people were willing to have made him a king, and a great concourse met him with branches of palm trees and cried, Hosanna, blessed is the king of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord.

Our Lord passed in royal but humble pomp through the streets of Jerusalem, riding upon a colt, the foal of an ass. This public manifestation, the renown of the miracle, and the general talk of the populace led to strangers hearing of him and inquiring about him, so that certain intelligent Greeks of a very respectable order, for their mode of dress to Philip shows their superior behavior, asked to be introduced to him.

They would see Jesus, not of course merely see him in the street, for that they could do if they pleased without applying to Philip, but they would have an interview with him and learn more about his teaching and his claims.

I suppose that the sight of these Greeks greatly gladdened the heart of the Savior, for he delighted to see men coming to the light. He seemed to say within himself, Behold, the nations come to me, the Gentiles arise and seek their Savior.

He saw in those Greeks the advanced God of the Gentile world. He looked upon the strangers with delight, regarding them as representative men, the first of myriads, who from the ends of the earth and the islands of the sea should come flocking to him, to behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

The Troubled Soul of the Redeemer

Our Lord rejoiced in spirit. His heart was glad within him, and he began to address himself to the people round about and to the Greeks who mingled with the throng. At that very moment the thought flashed across the Savior's mind, but these nations who are to be born unto me and to be saved by me cannot be so born without birth pains nor saved except I endure unspeakable suffering as their Redeemer.

This fact came vividly before our Lord's mind, and it rushed over his spirit like a raging torrent. He saw that he could not become the seed corn of a great harvest unless first of all he should fall into the ground and die.

He was the one grain of wheat upon whom all depended, and he must lose comfort in life and be buried in the earth, or else he would abide alone and bring forth no fruit. He saw the vicarious suffering which lay in his way, and his soul was troubled.

Do not imagine that our Savior dreaded death in itself considered. He was far superior in sacred courage and strength of mind to any of his servants, and yet many of them have welcomed death, and others of them, such as the martyrs, have endured it in its most terrible forms without fear, even expressing a holy delight in glorifying the name of God by their mortal agony.

Our Lord was not less brave than these in prospect of his departure. But never let it be forgotten that the death of Christ was a very peculiar one, and in fact stands by itself alone. His death was the vindication of justice.

It was the death of the sin bearer. It was a sacrificial, substitutionary, expiatory death, and this is very different from the death of a pardoned and justified believer who passes out of the world, resting on the atonement and supported by a sense of having been reconciled to God by the great sacrifice.

Our Lord was called to bear the enormous load of man's transgressions over his holy soul. The dark shadow of human guilt must pass, and on his sensitive spirit must be made to meet the iniquity of us all.

His saints' deaths are blessed in the sight of the Lord, but he must be made a curse for us that we might be blessed in him. And as the mind of Christ perceived this clearly lying in the way of that triumph among the Gentiles which gave him joy, there was a struggle in his soul, and before the assembled people that struggle was manifested.

The Greeks desired to see Jesus, and they did see him in a very remarkable manner so that they must have been astounded at the sight. If they expected to see a king, they did indeed behold a royal soul, but they saw him in such grief as falls not the lot of common men.

If they wished to see somewhat of his greatness of spirit and power of mind, they did see it, but it was a power which did not transfigure his face with glory, but filled it with an agony marring all its beauty.

I shall not be too bold if I say that Gethsemane was rehearsed in public upon the occasion before us. Our Lord's soul was troubled, so he says. He felt a sort of adumbration, a foreshadowing of that midnight among the olives in which his soul was exceeding sorrowful even unto death.

It was out of that conflict that our text came. In fact, our text is to his suffering in the midst of the crowd what nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt, was to the agony of Gethsemane, or what, it is finished, was to the passion of Calvary.

It was the culminating point, the climax, and the conquest of a great mental battle, and when he had thus spoken, he seemed to shake himself clear of the agony and to emerge from it with the memorials of it still upon him.

But with his face set like a flint to go forward to the bitter and the glorious end, this being now his watchword, Father, glorify thy name. I shall want to call your attention, dear friends, briefly here first, to the trouble of the Redeemer's soul.

I always tremble within myself when I try to speak of the inner conflicts of our blessed Lord, for it is so easy to make a mistake and darken counsel by words without knowledge. His person is complex, and therefore we readily confuse, yet he himself is but one, and it is equally dangerous to make overnight distinctions.

Loving jealousy of our Lord's honour makes us feel that we scarcely know how to speak of him. I remember an earnest admirer of art who, in pointing with his walking stick to the beauties of a famous picture, pushed his cane through the canvas and ruined it.

It is possible that in our enthusiasm to point out the beauties and points of interest in the life and death of our Lord we may spoil it all. I fear less than my ignorance. I should make sorrow for myself by dishonouring him for whose honour I would gladly lay me down and die.

Help me, O Divine Spirit! This much is clear, that our Saviour's heart was full of trouble. He who could still the sea and bid the storms retreat was tempest-tossed in his own soul and cast about him for anchorage.

He who could drive the fever from its lair or send a legion of demons into the deep was nevertheless troubled in spirit and cried, What shall I say? Master of all worlds, supreme amongst the angels, and adored at his father's right hand, yet he confesses, Now is my soul troubled.

Lord of all, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered. How near a kin it makes him to us! How human! How compassed with infirmity! Ye worship him, and rightly so, but still he is a man and a mourner.

He call him Master and Lord, and ye do well. Yet he not only washed his disciples' feet, but his own feet trembled in the rough places of the way. He felt those same commotions of spirit which make our heart sad within us and cause us to pour out our souls within us.

Do not think of the Lord Jesus otherwise than as of a dear brother born for adversity or a faithful husband sharing all our lot, being bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. Did you cry out in anguish, Now is my soul troubled?

Then remember that our Lord has used the same words. Are you half distracted? Are you tossed to and fro in your thoughts? Do you ever ask, What shall I say? Jesus also understands by sympathy what it is you mean.

Do you look around you and feel that you know not what to do, and does your trembling heart suggest that you should pray, Father, save me from this hour? In all this you may see the well beloved's footprints.

You are not upon a new and strange track. He leads you through no darker rooms than he went through before. With the like afflictions he has been afflicted, there is nothing in them novel or surprising to his sympathetic heart.

Inner Conflict Is Not Itself Sinful

Beloved friends, let me invite you to consider that not only did our Lord thus suffer, but it is joyful to reflect that he suffered all this without sin. Hence it follows that mental conflict is not in itself sinful.

Even the shrinking back of the flesh from suffering is not necessarily evil. The question, What shall I say? and the apparent distraction of the spirit for the moment as to what shall be its course are not in themselves criminal.

There could be no sin in the necessity of our inward struggles, though I am very far from venturing to hope that in any one of them we are quite clear of fault. Our Lord's nature was so pure that however much it was stirred it remained clear.

But in our case, though the stirring is not sinful, it sets in motion the sin which dwelleth in us, and we are defiled. Yet I do not believe that all those depressions of spirit which come of sickness, that all those wanderings of mind in the heart of fever, that all those shrinkings and drawings back from pain which are essential to our humanity and by our heavenly Father set down as sin, though sin is doubtless mixed with them.

If they be sinful in themselves, yet surely they are blotted out as soon as written down. For like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. He pities rather than censures or condemns.

Ye do not judge your children hardly for what they say when they are racked with pain or prostrated by weakness. You bear with their little fancies and peevishnesses and the like, and you never taunt them with their follies afterwards.

Neither can I think that our heavenly Father would have us doubt our interest in Christ because in our semi-delirium we could not realize his love, nor would he have us question the grace which is in us because our feverish thoughts were near akin to despair.

When the true heart struggles to love and trust and obey, but the poor brain is tortured with dark thoughts, the conflict is not all sinful, nor any of it necessarily so. There may be an awful struggle in the soul, and yet the Father may be glorified.

The sin lies not in the conflict, but in the defeat, if defeat there be. The guilt is not in the shrinking from the pain, but in the permitting that natural feeling to hinder us from duty or to lead us to rebel against chastisement.

If it be possible, let this cup pass from me. It is not a sinful utterance if it be followed by nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt. I feel so glad to think our Lord, when he was passing through this inward conflict, spoke out his feelings.

It is instructive that he should have done so, for with his strength of mind he was quite capable of preserving a self-contained attitude and keeping his agony to himself. Yet you notice that neither here, in which case he spoke so that others heard him, nor at Gethsemane, in which case he took three of his disciples to be with him and went to them again and again for sympathy, nor even on the cross, in which case he cried aloud, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?

Did he endeavor to conceal his emotion from others? It may be that by this he intended to teach us wisdom. He would show us by his own example that it is well for us not to be too much shut up within ourselves.

Smother not your sorrow, tell it out, or it may gather an ungovernable heat. That is the worst of grief which cannot weep or moan. Draw up the sluices, give a vent to pent-up feeling. Even though it be but a child who hears your tale, it will relieve your mind to tell it.

Anything is better than banking up the fires and concentrating all the heat within the soul. Act not to the stoic's part. Be not ashamed to let it be known that you are a man, a man who can grieve and be troubled, even as others.

It may sometimes be well to follow the poet's advice who says, Bear and still bear and silent be, tell no man thy misery. But I question if the occasions are very frequent. At any rate, such is not the command of our Lord, nor does his example point in that direction.

In himself speaking out, our Lord gives us a full permit to speak too. We might have said, No, I will not tell what is going on within, lest my weakness should seem to dishonor God. Now we know that our Lord did not dishonor the Father by saying, Now is my soul troubled, and by revealing the inward conflict of his soul, neither will the fact of our speaking out our grief necessarily dishonor our God.

Jesus wept, and we may weep. Jesus told out his sorrow to his friends, and you may do the same. And thus speaking, our Lord affords us the best of help, for his fellow feeling is a grand support. Did he say, Now is my soul troubled?

And did he scarce know what to ask? But did he at the last triumph and resign himself into the Father's hands? Then girt about by the self-same power, we also will encounter the same sorrow after our measure, and endure until we triumph as he did.

Even though in the triumph there should be clear evidence of our personal weakness, yet we will not regret it, since by that means our God shall be the more surely glorified by the more distinct revelation of his power.

Christ’s Resolve to Die for God’s Glory

I will say no more about the trouble of our Redeemer, because I would now ask you to fix your thoughts for a minute upon the firm resolve which the text sets forth. There is a battle, but from the very first moment to the last of it, there is really no question in the Savior's mind about what he means to do.

His purpose was settled beyond disturbance. The surface of his mind was ruffled, but deep down in his heart the current of the Redeemer's soul flowed on irresistibly in the ordained channel. He was even straight until he had been baptized with the appointed baptism.

Observe the question raised, and see how really it was answered in his heart before he asked it. Now is my soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. Must men be unsaved and Jesus be delivered from the lowering storm?

If so, yonder Greeks need not ask to see him, for there will be no life in a look at him. The disciples round about need not cling to him as their helper, for there is no help in him unless he dies to redeem the sons of men.

Shall men then be unredeemed? Shall the blood of atonement be unspilt and no man be ransomed from going down to the pit? Shall he remain alone, the grain of wheat unsewn? If he does, he will be happy enough and glorious enough, for heaven is all his own.

Does he need men to make him blessed? Does he require worms of the dust to make him glorious? Should he remain alone, he will still be God and Lord. But shall the death penalty be left to be borne by men, guilty men who deserve to bear it?

Shall there be no cross, no calvary, no open tomb, no resurrection, no gates of heaven set wide open for coming souls? There is the question, and you see in the text how resolutely Jesus had settled it.

He says in effect, Father, glorify thy name by my death. For this purpose have I come to this hour, that by my agony and bloody sweat, by my cross and passion, I may redeem the sons of men. Redeemed they must and shall be, cost me what it may.

I have resolved to bear the penalty and magnify thy law, and I will perform it, though hell itself be let loose against me and all its waves of fire dash over me. I will endure the cross and despise the shame to honor thee, my father.

Observe right well, the text indicates the deep intent which steadied our Lord's resolve. Why is Christ resolved to die? Is it to save men? Yes, but not as the chief reason. His first prayer is not, Father, save my people, but, Father, glorify thy name.

The glory of God was the chief end and object of our Savior's life and death. It is that the Father's name may be illustrious that Jesus would have souls redeemed. His passion had for its main intent the exhibition of the attributes of God.

And, brethren, how completely he has glorified Jehovah's name! Upon the cross we see the divine justice in the streaming wounds of the great substitute, for the Son of God must needs die when sin is laid upon Him.

There also you behold infinite wisdom, for what but infallible wisdom could have devised a way whereby God might be just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth? There too is love, rich, free, boundless love, never so conspicuous as in the death of man's Redeemer.

Until this day it still remains a question concerning the atonement. Which of the letters best is writ, the justice, the wisdom, or the love? In the atonement the divine attributes are also perfectly glorified, that no one crowds out the other.

Each one has its full display, without in the least degree diminishing the glory of any other. Our blessed Lord, that the Father might be glorified, pushed on to the end which he had set before him. Whatever conflict might be within his spirit, his heart was fixed upon bearing to the death our load, and suffering to the end our penalty.

The Father’s Name Glorified in Christ’s Incarnation and Exaltation

Now, brethren, I will detain you here with but one other thought. It is this. The grand result which came of it was that God was in very deed greatly glorified, and to this fact special testimony was given.

A voice was heard out of heaven saying, I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again. That voice speaks of the past. The incarnation of Christ had glorified the name of God. I am unable to describe to you how much of luster the love of God receives from the fact of the word being made flesh and dwelling among us.

It is the mystery of mysteries, the marvel of all marvels, that the Creator should espouse the nature of his creature, and that he should be found in fashion as a man. O Bethlehem, thou hast exceedingly magnified the condescension of God.

Angels might well sing glory to God in the highest on earth, peace, goodwill towards men. Nor Bethlehem alone, but Nazareth, and the thirty years which our Lord spent on earth, all illustrate the condescension, the pity, the long-suffering of God.

Did God dwell among us thirty years? Did he abide in humility in the carpenter's shop for the best part of that time, and did he afterwards come forth to be a poor man, a teacher of peasants, a friend of sinners, a man of sorrows despised and rejected of men?

Could the holy and the just, the infinite and the glorious, thus as it were, compress infinity into so small a space and marry deity to such poverty and shame? It was so. Then tune your harps anew, ye seraphs, to tell the amazing love and condescension of Immanuel God with us.

Well spake that voice, I have glorified it, but hearken yet again, for it adds and will glorify it again. To my mind that word again sounds like certain voices I have heard in the Alps. The horn is sounded and then follows an accone twice, thrice, and perhaps fifty times the music is distinctly repeated, the voices following each other in gradually melting strains.

The metaphor is not complete, for in this case the echoes increase in volume, instead of diminishing they wax louder and louder. Lo, Jesus hangs upon the cross and dies, and God is glorified, for justice has its due.

He lies in the grave till the third morning, but he bursts the bonds of death. Lo, God's great name is glorified again, since the divine power, truth, and faithfulness are all seen in the resurrection of Christ.

And yet a few more days, and he ascends into heaven, the man, the God, and a cloud hides him from our sight. He hath glorified the Father's name again by leading captivity captive. And then cometh Pentecost, and the preaching of the gospel among the heathen.

And then is the name of God glorified by the outpouring of the Spirit. Every conversion of a sinner, and every sanctification of a believer, is a fresh glorifying of the name of the Father, and every reception of a perfected one into heaven.

And surely they are entering heaven every day, troops of them climbing the celestial hills, drawn upward by almighty love. Every one, I say, in entering into paradise, glorifies Jehovah's name again. And brethren, by and by, when the whole earth shall be filled with his glory, then will the Father glorify his own name again.

And when in his own time the Lord shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the trump of the archangel, and the voice of God, and when he shall reign amongst his ancients gloriously, and we shall hear the gladsome acclamation, hallelujah, hallelujah, the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, and when cometh the end, and he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father, and God shall be all in all, then shall the eternal echoes roll along the glories of the great Father God.

The glorious name of the one Jehovah shall through all space and all eternity be magnified, and the prayer of our once suffering but now exalted Savior shall be fully answered, Father, glorify thy name.

Prayer as the End of Inner Conflict

Now, brethren and sisters, we will use our text in reference to ourselves. May the Holy Ghost direct us in so doing. I pray that this text may be our prayer from this time forth. Father, glorify thy name.

Have you, dear hearers, ever prayed this prayer? I trust I am addressing many to whom it is a very familiar desire, yet I question if any here have ever presented it so earnestly as those from whom it has been forced by suffering and grief.

God's birds often sing best in cages. At any rate, when they have been loose a little while and their notes grow somewhat dull, he tunes their pipes again if he puts them away a while and clips their wings.

Now, this text, as far as we are concerned, whenever we can use it, indicates conflict ended. Sometimes we're in such a condition that we do not know which way to turn. We are in great affliction that may not be so much outward trouble as distress of mind, which is worst of all.

The water is leaked into the ship, and that is worse than an ocean outside. The vessel begins to fill. You use the pumps but cannot keep it under. At such times you cry, What shall I do? What shall I say?

Where can I look? I am oppressed and overwhelmed. But there is an end of the conflict when you turn round and cry, Father! Father! A child may have lost its way, and it may be sobbing its heart out in its distress, but the moment it sees its father it is lost no longer.

It has found its way, and is at rest. Though there may be no difference in your position, nor change in your circumstances, yet if you catch a sight of your heavenly father, it is enough. You are a lost child no more.

When you can pray, Father, glorify thy name, then there is no more question about what shall I say. You have said the right thing, and there let it end. Now, brethren, concerning this next year upon which we are entering, I hope it will be a year of happiness to you.

I very emphatically wish you all a happy new year, but nobody can be confident that it will be a year free from trouble. On the contrary, you may be pretty confident that it will not be so, for man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.

We have each, beloved friends, some dear faces in which we rejoice. May they long smile upon us, but remember, each one of these may be an occasion of sorrow during the next year, for we have neither an immortal child, nor an immortal husband, nor an immortal wife, nor an immortal friend, and therefore some of these may die within the year.

Moreover, the comforts with which we are surrounded may take to themselves wings before another year shall fulfill its months. Earthly joys are as if they were all made of snow. They melt even as the hoarfrost, and are gone before we conclude our thanksgiving for their coming.

It may be you will have a year of drought and shortness of bread. Years lean and ill-favored may be your portion. Eh, and yet more, perhaps during the year which has almost dawned, you may have to gather up your feet in the bed and die to meet your Father's God.

Well now, concerning this approaching year and its mournful possibilities, shall we grow gloomy and desponding? Shall we wish we had never been born, or ask that we may die? By no means. Shall we, on the other hand, grow frivolous and laugh at all things?

Now that we are ill-becoming in heirs of God, what shall we do? We will breathe this prayer. Father, glorify thy name. That is to say, if I must lose my property, glorify thy name by my property. If I must be bereaved, glorify thy name in my sorrows.

If I must die, glorify thy name in my departure. Now when you pray in that fashion, your conflict is over. No outward fright nor inward fear remains. If that prayer rises from the heart, you have now cast aside all gloomy forebodings, and you can thoughtfully and placidly pursue your way into the unknown tomorrow.

Pass on, O caravan, into the trackless desert. Still proceed into the wilderness of the future, which no mortal eye hath seen, for yonder fiery, cloudy pillar leads the way, and all is well. Father, glorify thy name as our pillar of cloud, and protected by its shade we shall not be smitten by the heat of prosperity.

Father, glorify thy name as our pillar of fire by night, nor shall the darkness of adversity destroy us, for the Lord shall be our light. March on, ye pilgrims, without a moment's delay because of fear.

Surrendering Self Through Obedient Service

Tarry not for a single instant, this being your banner and your watchword. Father, glorify thy name. Torturing doubts and forebodings of the future all end when the glorious name is seen over all. Secondly, our text breathes a spirit which is the surrender of self.

When a man can truly say, Father, glorify thy name, he begins to understand the saying of our Savior concerning the corn of wheat falling into the ground and dying. For that prayer means, Lord, do what thou wilt with me.

I will make no stipulations but leave all to thee. Remember that I am dust and deal tenderly with me, but still glorify thy name. Do not spare me if thereby thou wouldst be less glorious. Act not according to my foolish wishes or childish desires, but glorify thy name in me by any means and by all means.

The prayer means I am willing to be made nothing of so that thy will may be done. I am willing to be as one dead and buried, forgotten and unknown, if thou mayest be magnified. I am ready to be buried and sown because I believe that this is the way by which I shall grow and bring forth fruit to thy praise.

This surrender includes obedient service. For our great Master goes on to say, If any man serve me, let him follow me. True self-renunciation shows itself in the obedient imitation of Christ. Father, glorify thy name means waiting the Lord's running in his ways.

If the petition be written out at length, it runs thus. Help me to copy my Savior's example. Help me to follow in his blessed footsteps. This is my desire, passively to honor my Heavenly Father by bearing his will and actively to glorify him by doing his will.

Lord, help me to do both of these and never let me be forgetful that I am not my own, but wholly my Lord's. The prayer appears to me to be most properly used when it is made a personal one. Father, glorify thy name in me.

I am the recipient of so much mercy. Get some glory out of me, I pray thee. Beloved, I think you must have noticed in this world that the man who really lives is the man who more than his fellows has learned to live for others and for God.

You do not care for the preacher whose object is to display his own powers. You go away dissatisfied after hearing his brave assurations. But if any man shall only desire your soul's good and God's glory, you will put up with much eccentricity from him and bear with many infirmities because instinctively you love and trust the man who forgets himself.

Now, what you thus see in preachers, I beg you to try and consider in yourselves. If any of you are living for yourselves, you will be unlovable. If you even act under the ambition to be loved, you will miss your mark.

But if you will love for love's sake, if you will seek to be Christ-like, if you will lay yourselves out to glorify God, to increase his kingdom and to bless your fellow men, you will live in the highest and noblest sense.

Seek not your own greatness, but labor to make Jesus great and you will live. Christians live by dying. Kill self and Christ shall live in you and so shall you most truly live. The way upward in true life and honor is to go downward in self-humiliation.

Renounce all and you shall be rich. Have nothing and you shall have all things. Try to be something and you shall be nothing. Be nothing and you shall live. That is the great lesson which Jesus would teach us, but which we are slow to learn.

Father, glorify thy name means. Let the corn of wheat be buried out of sight to lose itself in its outgrowth. O self, thou art a dead thing. Be thou laid deep in the sepulcher. Thou rotten carcass, for such thou art become since Jesus died for me.

Thou art an offense unto me. Away with thee. Do not poison my life and mar my motives, spoil my intents, hinder my self-denials and defile the chastity of my heart. Thou dost prompt me to make provision for the flesh.

Seeking God’s Glory Above Self

Away with thee, away with thee. Father, glorify thy name. In our text in the next place, a new care is paramount. The man has forgotten self and self is buried like a grain of wheat, but now he begins to care for God's glory.