My evidence that I am saved does not lie in the fact that I

When Charles Spurgeon declared, “My evidence that I am saved does not lie in the fact that I preach, or that I do this or that. All my hope lies in this: that Jesus Christ came to save sinners. I am a sinner, I trust Him, then He came to save me, and I am saved,” he gave voice to one of the most profound truths of the Christian faith—the truth that salvation is not earned by human merit, but granted through grace. His words strip away pride, self-righteousness, and the illusions of spiritual achievement, leaving only the pure, unshakable foundation of faith in Christ alone. In that simplicity lies a depth of peace that no worldly accomplishment can match, for Spurgeon reminds us that redemption is not the reward of the worthy, but the rescue of the unworthy who dare to believe.

The origin of this quote lies in the ministry of Spurgeon, the great 19th-century English preacher known as the “Prince of Preachers.” Throughout his life, Spurgeon battled periods of deep depression, physical suffering, and the weight of immense responsibility. Though he spoke to thousands and published sermons that reached millions, he never placed his confidence in his works or reputation. His faith was not in preaching, nor in his own holiness, but in the eternal promise of Christ’s sacrifice. This statement arose from Spurgeon’s continual insistence that Christianity is not about what man does for God, but what God has already done for man through Jesus Christ. He understood that even the most devoted servant of God remains, at heart, a sinner in need of grace.

In saying, “All my hope lies in this: that Jesus Christ came to save sinners,” Spurgeon was echoing the words of the Apostle Paul in 1 Timothy 1:15, where Paul wrote, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the chief.” Both men, though pillars of faith, humbled themselves before the same truth: that no man stands justified before God by his own virtue. This humility is not weakness, but spiritual clarity. It acknowledges the vastness of divine mercy and the futility of human pride. Spurgeon’s words remind us that salvation is not a ladder we climb, but a gift we receive with open, trembling hands. It is not our worthiness that calls God’s love down to us—it is God’s love that makes us worthy of being saved.

The ancients, too, understood the danger of placing confidence in deeds alone. The prophet Isaiah declared that all our righteousness is like “filthy rags” before the holiness of God. Even the saints of old—Moses, David, Elijah—stood redeemed not by perfection, but by faith in the promise of mercy. In this sense, Spurgeon’s teaching belongs to a timeless lineage of faith: that man’s redemption has always been dependent on God’s compassion rather than man’s achievement. When he says, “I am a sinner, I trust Him,” he speaks not from despair, but from peace—the peace that comes when a soul ceases striving and finally rests in grace.

Consider the story of John Newton, once a slave trader turned preacher, who wrote the immortal hymn “Amazing Grace.” Newton, haunted by his past sins, found no relief until he realized that Christ’s mercy was greater than his guilt. “I once was lost, but now am found,” he wrote, echoing the same truth Spurgeon proclaimed: that salvation is not a matter of moral perfection but of trust in divine forgiveness. Newton’s life, like Spurgeon’s, is living proof that even the darkest heart can be made new—not by its own effort, but by the boundless love of God. Both men remind us that grace redeems what guilt cannot repair.

In Spurgeon’s confession, there is also a call to humility for all believers. Many, like the Pharisees of old, fall into the trap of measuring faith by action—counting sermons, charities, or prayers as evidence of their holiness. But Spurgeon warns that such confidence is misplaced. Good works are not the root of salvation, but its fruit—the natural outpouring of a heart already redeemed. The one who believes he can earn his way to heaven will find his soul weary and restless; but the one who trusts in Christ’s finished work will find rest eternal. “It is finished,” said Christ upon the cross—and in those three words lies the end of striving and the beginning of grace.

So, my children of faith, let this teaching take root in your hearts: your worth is not measured by your deeds, but by your trust in the One who died and rose again for you. Do not seek to prove your salvation by your strength, for it is not the strong who are saved, but the faithful. Speak humbly, act kindly, serve others—but do so from gratitude, not fear. Let your hope rest where Spurgeon’s rested: on the unshakable foundation of Jesus Christ, the Savior of sinners. For when all else fades—titles, works, and glory—only this remains: “I am a sinner, I trust Him, then He came to save me, and I am saved.” And in that single truth lies the peace of eternity.