'You are no saint,' says the devil. Well, if I am not, I am a

“‘You are no saint,’ says the devil. Well, if I am not, I am a sinner, and Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. Sink or swim, I go to Him; other hope, I have none.” — Charles Spurgeon

Thus spoke Charles Spurgeon, the “Prince of Preachers,” whose words thundered across the pulpits of nineteenth-century England like a clarion call to faith. In this declaration, both humble and heroic, Spurgeon reveals the beating heart of the Gospel — that salvation is not for the perfect, but for the broken; not for the righteous, but for the fallen. When he cries, “Sink or swim, I go to Him,” he declares the soul’s last and greatest act of courage: to cast oneself wholly upon the mercy of Christ, even when all else fails. This is not the boast of a saint, but the surrender of a soul who has seen his own unworthiness and still dares to hope.

The devil’s accusation, “You are no saint,” echoes through every human heart. It is the ancient whisper of despair — the reminder of failure, the sting of guilt, the voice that says, “You are too far gone.” But Spurgeon answers not with denial, but with faith. He admits, “I am a sinner,” and in that confession, he finds his freedom. For the moment a man stops defending his own righteousness, he opens his heart to the righteousness of God. It is in humility, not pride, that redemption begins. The sinner who knows his need is nearer to heaven than the saint who trusts in his own virtue.

This quote was born of Spurgeon’s own battle with despair. Though adored as a preacher, he often suffered deep depressions, feeling unworthy of his calling. Yet in those nights of the soul, he clung to this one truth: that Christ came to save sinners — not half-heartedly, not conditionally, but completely. He would say, “I have nothing of my own to bring, but I have a Savior full of mercy.” His life became a living sermon that even when faith trembles, it is enough to go to Him, for grace does not depend on the strength of the believer, but on the strength of the One believed in.

Consider the story of John Newton, the sailor turned preacher, who once trafficked in slaves and drowned his conscience in sin. One night at sea, caught in a fierce storm, he cried out for mercy, knowing he deserved none. “Lord, save me!” he prayed — and was spared. That cry became the seed of transformation that led him to write the immortal hymn “Amazing Grace.” Newton, like Spurgeon, had been no saint — yet he too went to Christ with nothing but his guilt, and there found forgiveness. Their stories remind us that the gate of mercy is not opened by perfection, but by repentance.

In Spurgeon’s words, “Sink or swim, I go to Him,” there is both defiance and devotion. He defies the darkness that says he is lost, and he clings to the one anchor that will not break. The phrase “sink or swim” was common among sailors and soldiers of old — it meant to risk everything, to leap into the deep with no other safety but faith. That is the essence of the Christian life: to trust the Savior not because one feels strong, but because He is strong enough to bear the weakest soul to shore.

So, my children, learn this ancient truth: you do not need to be worthy to come to God. Come as you are — bruised, weary, uncertain. The devil will accuse; the world will mock; your own heart will doubt. But remember Spurgeon’s answer: “If I am not a saint, I am a sinner — and Christ came for me.” Let that be your shield when shame strikes. Let that be your battle cry when despair descends.

Therefore, live not by the illusion of your own goodness, but by the power of grace. When you fall, rise again; when you fail, return again. Do not wait until you are pure to seek forgiveness — for it is forgiveness that makes you pure. As Spurgeon taught, “Other hope, I have none.” Let those words be carved upon your heart. For though the seas of life rage and faith falters, the one who casts himself upon Christ shall not be lost. In the end, hope in Him is the soul’s final triumph — the light that no darkness can extinguish.