My present staff of deacons consists of peculiarly lovable, active, energetic, warm-hearted, generous men, every one of whom seems specially adapted for his own particular department of service. I am very thankful that I have never been the pastor of a dead church, controlled by dead deacons. I have seen such a thing as that with my own eyes, and the sight was truly awful. I recollect very well preaching in a chapel where the church had become exceedingly low, and, somehow, the very building looked like a sepulchre, though crowded that one night by those who came to hear the preacher. The singers drawled out a dirge, while the members sat like mutes. I found it hard preaching; there was no “go” in the sermon, I seemed to be driving dead horses.
After the service, I saw two men, who I supposed were the deacons,—the pillars of the church,—leaning against the posts of the vestry door in a listless attitude, and I said, “Are you the deacons of this church?” They informed me that they were the only deacons, and I remarked that I thought so. To myself I added that I understood, as I looked at them, several things which else would have been a riddle. Here was a dead church, comparable to the ship of the ancient mariner which was manned by the dead. Deacons, teachers, minister, people, all dead, and yet wearing the semblance of life.

Spurgeon, C. H. (2009). C. H. Spurgeon’s Autobiography, Compiled from his diary, letters, and records, by his wife and his private secretary: Volume 3, 1856-1878 (18–20). Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

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On going into the Tabernacle, one day, I gave directions about some minor alterations that I wished to have made, not knowing at the time that I was cancelling the orders given by the deacon who had the main care of the building resting upon him. When he arrived, in the evening, he saw what had been done, and at once asked who had interfered with his instructions. The reply was, “the Governor, sir.” The spirit of unquestioning loyalty at once asserted itself over any temporary annoyance he may have felt, and he said, “Quite right; there must be only one captain in a ship;” and, for a long while, that saying became one of our most familiar watchwords. I have often been amazed at the devotion of our brethren; I have told them, many a time, that, if they would follow a broomstick as they have followed me, the work must succeed. To which Mr. William Olney, as the spokesman for the rest, has answered, “Yes, dear Pastor; but it is because we have such absolute confidence in your leadership that we are ready to follow you anywhere. You have never misled us yet, and we do not believe you ever will do so.”

Spurgeon, C. H. (2009). C. H. Spurgeon’s Autobiography, Compiled from his diary, letters, and records, by his wife and his private secretary: Volume 3, 1856-1878 (19–21). Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

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After one long illness, which kept me for many weeks out of the pulpit, I said to the deacons, “I am afraid you will get quite tired of your poor crippled minister;” but one of the least demonstrative of the brethren replied, “Why, my dear sir, we would sooner have you for one month in the year than anyone else in the world for the whole twelve months!” I believe they all agreed with what he said, for they have often urged me to go away for a long sea voyage, or to rest for a year, or for several months at the least; but I have always had one answer for them:—“It is not possible for me to leave my work for any lengthened period until the Lord calls me home; and, besides, there is a Scriptural reason why a minister should not be away from his people for more than six weeks at a time.” “What is that?” they asked. “Why, don’t you remember that, when Moses was up in the mount with God for forty days, Aaron and the children of Israel turned aside to the worship of the golden calf?”

I had one most touching proof of a deacon’s loving self-sacrifice and generosity. During a very serious illness, I had an unaccountable fit of anxiety about money matters. There was no real ground for apprehension, for my dear wife and I were scrupulously careful to “owe no man anything,” and there was no pecuniary liability in connection with the Lord’s work under my charge which need have caused me the slightest perplexity. I had fallen into one of those curious mental conditions that are often the result of extreme pain and weakness, in which the mind seems to lay hold of some impalpable object, and will not let it go. One of the brethren came to see me while I was in that sad state, and after trying in vain to comfort me, he said, “Well, good bye, sir, I’ll see what I can do.” He went straight home, and before very long he came back to me bringing all the stocks and shares and deeds and available funds that he had. Putting them down on the bed where I was lying in great agony, he said, “There, my dear Pastor, I owe everything I have in the world to you, and you are quite welcome to all I possess. Take whatever you need, and do not have another moment’s anxiety.” Of course, as soon as I got better, I returned to my dear friend all that he had brought to me under such singular circumstances. Even it I had needed it, I could not have taken a penny of it, for it seemed to me very much as the water from the well of Bethlehem must have appeared to David. Happily, I did not require any part of the amount so freely placed at my disposal, but I could never forget the great kindness of the brother who was willing to give all that he had in order to allay the groundless fears of his sorely-afflicted minister.

Spurgeon, C. H. (2009). C. H. Spurgeon’s Autobiography, Compiled from his diary, letters, and records, by his wife and his private secretary: Volume 3, 1856-1878 (21–22). Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

check out bcwe.org