An apostolic face and a Judas heart
Many think that a minister is exempt from such
coldness, deadness, and barrenness, as private
Christians feel. And the hypocritical looks and
words of many of Satan's ministers favor this
delusion. Holiness is so much on their tongues,
and on their faces, that their deluded hearers
necessarily conclude that it is in their hearts.
But, alas! nothing is easier or more common,
than an apostolic face and a Judas heart.
Most pictures that I have seen of the "Last Supper"
represent Judas with a ferocious countenance. Had
painters drawn a holy, meek-looking face, I believe
they would have given a truer resemblance.
Many pass for angels in the pulpit, who if the truth
were known, would be seen to be devils and beasts
in heart, lip, and life at home.
"How terrible it will be for you teachers of religious
law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! You are so careful
to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside
you are filthy—full of greed and self-indulgence! You try
to look like upright people outwardly, but inside your
hearts are filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness."
Matthew 23:25, 28
A languishing body
(Letters of J. C. Philpot)
(February 1, 1840, to a dying youth)
My dear friend,
A languishing body is a heavy cross.
Sickness often . . .
depresses our spirits,
shatters our nerves, and
casts a gloom over our minds.
But it is good thus to be weaned and detached,
and gradually loosened from the strong ties that
bind us to earth. I was ill once for many months,
and many thought I would never recover. I found
it a heavy trial, but I believe it was profitable to
my soul. May the Lord make all your bed in your
sickness, give you many testimonies of His special
favor—and when He sees fit to take down your
earthly tabernacle, remove you to that happy
country where the inhabitant shall never say,
"I am sick," where tears are wiped away from
all faces, and sorrow and sighing flee away.
May the Lord speedily grant your desires, and
visit your soul with looks of love, rays of mercy,
and beams of tender kindness, so as to smile
you into . . .
humility,
resignation,
patience,
gratitude,
contrition,
love, and
godly sorrow.
Yours affectionately in the bonds of the gospel,
J. C. Philpot
A painted bauble
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new
creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"
2 Corinthians 5:17
What a wonderful revolution is effected by
divine teaching and heavenly visitations!
The soul is brought to live in a new world
and breathe a new element. Old things pass
away, and behold, all things become new.
New desires, feelings, hopes, fears, and
exercises arise, and the soul becomes a new
creature. The world appears in its true colors,
as a painted bauble, and as its pleasures are
valued at their due worth, so its good opinion
is little cared for or desired.
What is this poor vain world with all its gilded clay,
deceptive honors and respectability, and soap-bubble
charms—compared to one smile from our loving Savior?
"And this world is fading away, along with
everything it craves." 1 John 2:17
The religion which I want
I am quite sick of modern religion—it is such
a mixture, such a medley, such a compromise.
I find much, indeed, of this religion in my own
heart, for it suits the flesh well—but I would
not have it so, and grieve it should be so.
The religion which I want is that of the Holy Spirit.
I know nothing but what He teaches me.
I feel nothing but what He works in me.
I believe nothing but what He shows me.
I only mourn when He smites my rocky heart.
I only rejoice when He reveals the Savior.
This religion I am seeking after, though miles and
miles from it—but no other will satisfy or content me.
When the blessed Spirit is not at work in me,
and with me, I fall back into all the . . .
darkness,
unbelief,
earthliness,
idleness,
carelessness,
infidelity, and
helplessness
of my Adam nature.
True religion is a supernatural and mysterious thing.
It will matter little when I lie in my coffin!
What does it really matter where we spend
the few years of our pilgrimage here below?
Life is short, vain, and transitory; and if I live
in comfort and wealth, or in comparative poverty,
it will matter little when I lie in my coffin!
This life is soon passing away, and an eternal state
fast coming on! It will greatly matter whether . . .
our religion was natural or spiritual,
our faith human or divine,
our hope a heavenly gift or a spider's web!
But our blind, foolish hearts are so concerned about
things which are but the dust of the balance, and so
little anxious about our all in all.
There is no greater inheritance than to be a son or
daughter of the Lord Almighty. To have a saving
interest in . . .
the electing love of the Father,
the redeeming blood of the Son,
and the sanctifying operations of the Holy Spirit,
is worth a million of worlds! Without such, we must
be eternally miserable; and with it eternally happy.
"For God has reserved a priceless inheritance for His
children. It is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled,
beyond the reach of change and decay!" 1 Peter 1:4
A little drop of purity in the midst of impurity
How mysterious is the life of God in the soul.
It seems like a little drop of purity in the midst
of impurity.
We shall always find sin to be our worst enemy,
and self our greatest foe. We need not fear
anything but sin—nothing else can do us any
real injury. Though the Lord in tender mercy
forgives His erring wandering children, yet He
makes them all deeply feel that indeed it is
an evil and a bitter thing to sin against Him.
If Mr. Pride gets a wound in the head
"Some are preaching out of jealousy and rivalry.
But others preach about Christ with pure motives."
Philip. 1:15
I hope I can rejoice in the Lord's blessing the labors
of other good men. It is indeed a sad spirit when
ministers are jealous of each other, and would
rather cavil and find fault with each other, instead
of desiring that the blessing of God might rest
upon them and their labors. Oh that miserable
spirit of detraction and envy, which would gladly
pull others down, that we might stand as it were,
a little higher upon their bodies! Where is there any . . .
true humility of mind,
simplicity of spirit,
brotherly love, or
an eye to God's glory,
when this wretched spirit is indulged?
If Mr. Pride gets a wound in the head, it will
not be the worse for the grace of humility.
Our greatest enemy
I am more afraid of myself—my lusts and passions,
and strong and horrible corruptions—than of anybody
in the whole world.
SELF is and ever will be our greatest enemy. And
all our enemies would be as weak as water against
us, were we not such vile wretches in ourselves.
The end will make amends for all!
What a world it is of sin and sorrow!
How everything serves to remind us
that we are all passing away!
I feel for you in your trials and afflictions,
so various, painful, and multiplied. But
dare I wish you free from what the all-wise,