God's presence!
What solemn feelings are produced in the mind under a sense of God's presence! How the Lord's presence turns night into day—makes every crooked thing straight—and every rough place plain! How it banishes all the gloom, melancholy, and despondency which hang over the soul! How it clears up every difficulty—and like the shining sun, it drives away the damps and darkness of the night. If there is one thing to be coveted more than another, it is that the Lord's presence might be more felt in our hearts!
If I wash myself with snow
By nature, man knows nothing of the purity and perfection of God—or the deep sinfulness and corruption of the creature. There is a veil over man's heart—a veil of ignorance—of delusion—of unbelief—of self-deception as regards the nature of sin. No man is vitally and experimentally acquainted with—its hideous nature—its awful depths—its subtlety—its workings—its movements—its cravings—its lustings—the heights to which it rises—the depths to which it sinks.
But when the Lord the Spirit takes a man really and vitally in hand—and He truly begins His sovereign work of grace upon the soul—He commences by opening up to the astonished eyes of the sinner, something of the real nature of sin. He not only shows him the huge, high, wide-spreading branches of sin—but bids him look down and see how deeply-rooted sin is in his very being—that sin is not an accident—a faint blot that may soon be washed out—a something on the surface, like a skin disease that may be healed by a simple ointment. He shows him that sin is seated in his very bones—that this deep-rooted malady has taken possession of him—that he is a sinner to his very heart's core—that every thought, every word, every action of man's whole being—is one mass of sin, filth, and pollution.
And if he attempts, as most awakened sinners do attempt—to purify himself—to ease his guilt by lopping off a few external branches—if he attempts to wash himself clean from iniquity, the Spirit will teach him the meaning of Job's words, "If I wash myself with snow, and cleanse my hands with lye, yet You will plunge me in the ditch. My own clothes shall abhor me." (Job 9:30, 31). Until at last God brings him to this spot—that he is a sinner throughout—yes, that he is the chief of sinners—that every evil lodges in his heart—and the seed of every crime dwells in his fallen nature. When a man is brought here, he is brought to the place of the stopping of mouths—his own righteousness is effectually cut to pieces—his hopes of salvation by his works are completely removed from under him. Those rotten props are cut away by the hand of the Spirit from the sinking soul, that he may fall into himself one mass of confusion and ruin.
And until he is brought here, he really can know nothing—of a free-grace salvation—of the superaboundings of grace over the aboundings of sin—of God's electing love—of Christ's substitution and suretyship—of His atoning blood—of His justifying righteousness—of His dying love. He can know nothing of the rich provisions of almighty power and eternal mercy that are lodged in the fullness of Christ. He has—no eyes to see—no ears to hear—no heart to feel—no arms to embrace a whole Christ—a precious Christ, a Savior from the wrath to come—who has stood in the sinner's place and stead—made full atonement for sin—fulfilled the law—brought in everlasting righteousness—and justified the ungodly!
The unceasing conflict
"Why are you in despair, my soul? Why are you disturbed within me?" Psalm 42:5
One thing that casts down the souls of God's family is the unceasing conflict which they have to maintain—between those desires to live under God's leading—and those desires to live after the course of this world. In other words, the conflict between nature and grace—between the spirit and the flesh—will always cast down the soul in proportion to the intensity of the struggle. To be baffled, as we are hourly baffled, in all our attempts to do good—to find the carnality of our hearts perpetually obstructing every desire that rises in our bosom to be heavenly-minded, spiritual, enjoy God's word, feel His presence, and live to His honor and glory—thus to have the tide of carnality and pollution perpetually bearing down every spiritual desire in the heart—must not that cast down the soul which covets nothing so much as to live under a sense of God's presence and favor?
And that this conflict should be a perpetual and unceasing one—that we should have so little respite from it—that it should not be merely now and then, but more or less, in proportion to the depth of godly fear—always be going on in our soul—must not this cast down the poor soul which is the subject of it? I am sure it cast me down day after day, and sometimes hour after hour—to feel such an unceasing and perpetual conflict between that in us which is spiritual, heavenly, and holy—and that in us which is earthly, carnal, sensual, and devilish!
The Lord sends afflictions for a special purpose
"Why are you in despair, my soul? Why are you disturbed within me?" Psalm 42:5
The many afflictions that the Lord's people have to pass through, is one cause of their souls being cast down. And the Lord intends these things to cast them down. The Lord in sending afflictions means them to do a certain work. We are high—afflictions are sent to bring us low. We are proud—afflictions are meant to humble. We are worldly—afflictions are meant to purge out of us this worldly spirit. We are carnal—afflictions are sent to subdue this carnality. We are often straying from the Lord into bypaths—afflictions are meant to bring us into the strait and narrow path that leads to glory. Now the Lord sends afflictions for a special purpose—and this special purpose is to cast down the soul—that He Himself may have the honor of raising it up!
The greatest burden & trial
"Why are you in despair, my soul? Why are you disturbed within me?" Psalm 42:5
One of the greatest, if not the greatest burden and trial to the child of God, is the daily, hourly, minutely, momently workings of sin. The adulterous eye—the roving heart—the defiled imagination—the constant stream of iniquity polluting every word and thought, every feeling and desire—is and must be a burden to the soul—just in proportion as the fear of God lives and works in a man's conscience. And whenever sin gets the mastery over us, though it be but for a short time, (I am not speaking here necessarily of gross sins, or of outward falls—for sin in some shape or other is perpetually striving to rule within where it does not rule without), guilt will as surely follow it as the shadow does the sun.
But even where sin does not get the mastery, those whose consciences are tender in God's fear, continually feel the workings of pride, hypocrisy, presumption, self-righteousness, carnal desires, filthy lusts, worldly-mindedness—and of everything that is hateful and vile in the eyes of a holy God. Do we not continually find how, in spite of all our desires, and all the resolutions we make to the contrary, how instantaneously temptation sets fire to the combustible materials we carry within? And what a dreadful flame there is at times bursting forth in our carnal mind? These things, I am sure, will bring guilt, shame, and sorrow upon every conscience that is quickened to fear God. And just in proportion to the depth and working of godly fear in a man's soul will be the burden of sin from time to time upon his conscience.
Such a poor, blind, ignorant creature as I
He who knows himself by divine teaching, and has had a glimpse of future bliss and glory, will often reason with himself, "How is such a poor, blind, ignorant creature as I—surrounded by so many enemies—oppressed or beguiled by so many of Satan's temptations—beset by the workings of a depraved nature—how am I ever to enter the heavenly inheritance, and enjoy the promised rest?"
To get to heaven we must wade through difficulties, improbabilities, and impossibilities. We shall meet with hindrances, impediments, obstacles. And yet, for the Christian, grace superabounds over all the aboundings of sin, and lands him safe in glory!
A great deal of talk about religion
How many there are who are mistaking the 'form of religion' for the power of it—mistaking 'doctrines learned in the head' for the teachings of the Spirit in the soul! There is a great deal of talk about religion—but how few know anything of—what true religion is—the secret of vital godliness—the inward teachings and operations of the Spirit upon the heart! Many men speak fluently enough of doctrines, and of the blessed truths of the gospel. But what good can mere doctrines do for me—unless they are sealed on my heart, and applied with divine power to my conscience? Without this, the greatest truths can do me no good.
But when the Lord lays us low, puts us into the furnace, and drags us through the waters—He shows us that true religion, vital godliness, is something deeper, something more spiritual, something more supernatural, something that stands more in the teachings of God the Spirit and His operation on the heart, than ever we dreamt of before we entered upon the trial. We might have had the clearest views of doctrinal truth—and yet these were but 'dim notions floating in the head,' before we came into the furnace. But these things now are seen in a different light, and felt in a totally different manner. What before was but a doctrine—becomes now a most certain truth. And what before was but a sound sentiment—is now sealed as a living reality in experience.
As the Lord, then, brings us into the dust, He strips away our 'mere notional, doctrinal religion.' He begins to open up to our heart the real nature of vital godliness—that it is something deeper, something more spiritual, something more powerful, something more experimental than anything we have ever yet known—that it consists in the teachings and leadings of God the Spirit in the conscience. As soon as this is felt, it strips a man of everything he has learned in the flesh—and brings him down to the dust of death. And when brought there, the blessed Spirit opens up the truths of the gospel in a way he had never known before. Many people know the truth in the letter—but how few by the teachings and operations of God the Spirit in the heart! They have sound views of the way of salvation—but it has never been wrought out with a mighty power into their soul. They have clear heads—but their hearts are not broken into contrition and godly sorrow. Their minds are well-instructed in the truths of the gospel—but these truths have not been communicated by an unction from the Holy One.
Until a man is made to see the emptiness of a mere profession—to have his free-will stripped and purged away—and to be brought out of that empty religion so generally current—and is broken down into humility at the footstool of divine mercy—he will not feel the power, the reality, the sweetness, and the blessedness of the overwhelming love of God displayed in the gospel. Until the soul is thus stripped—until the vessel is thus emptied—these things cannot be known—nor is it in a condition to receive the glorious riches of free grace. Until the dross and tin is removed from the heart—the pure metal cannot shine. Until this chaff is blown away—the wheat lies heaped up in one confused mass on the threshing floor. The Lord, therefore, will test His work on the heart—for He is a jealous God, and He will not give His glory to another—but reserves to Himself, His prerogative of sovereign mercy, and of saving to the uttermost.
This sacred teaching
All God's people are sooner or later brought to this point in their experience—they are all brought to know their own sinfulness, ignorance, and helplessness. And when their eyes are thus anointed with eye-salve to discover their own wretchedness, the same unction from the Holy One reveals to them what Christ has done to save them from it! They learn by this sacred teaching, their own iniquity—and His atoning blood; their misery—and the bliss and blessedness which is secured up in Him! And when these two extremes meet in the quickened soul, it is brought in one and the same moment—while it debases itself—to exalt the Lord of life and glory! And while it thus sinks down in the depth of creature wretchedness—it learns to glory in the Lord Jesus alone, as its all in all.
When the eye is spiritually opened
When the eye is spiritually opened to see the glory of Jesus, it follows Him as a suffering Mediator to Calvary—there to view Him as a crucified Jesus—as the Lamb of God bearing our sins in His own body on the tree. And as the child of God looks by faith to the bleeding Lamb, he desires to have a spiritual revelation and manifestation of the mystery of the cross to his heart. And by this dying love entering into his soul, he is able to understand how wide, how long, how high, and how deep the love of Jesus really is!
Only the dying love of Christ spiritually felt and realized, can wean the soul from the world, and make the things of time and sense to appear in their true light—as stamped with vanity and vexation of spirit. The dying love of Christ, also, revealed to the soul, is the only thing that can make us love Jesus, and cleave to Him with full purpose of heart. Nothing but the dying love of Jesus can make us willing to leave the world, and part with the things of time and sense, so that we may forever be with the Lord. As the Lord Jesus in His endearing relationships is presented to the eyes of the spiritual understanding, faith flows out towards, hope anchors in, and love clasps firm hold of Him as thus revealed—and thus ardent desires and fervent longings are kindled in the soul to know Him experimentally in all these relations—and inwardly realize their sweetness and power!
Every other object of desire & affection faded away
"I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them nothing but refuse, that I may gain Christ." Philippians 3:8
God, by a secret and powerful work in Paul's conscience, not only—cast down all his fleshly confidence—stripped him entirely of his natural religion—showed him the emptiness of every hope in which he had so fondly trusted—but also, He manifested to his understanding, and revealed in his soul a precious Savior—and thus drew forth all the affections of his heart, fixing them wholly and solely upon Jesus. Paul then saw, by the eye of faith, such loveliness and preciousness in Christ, that every other object of desire and affection faded away—and those aims and pursuits which once seemed his richest gain, he could now rejoice in and pursue no longer—they utterly sank in his esteem—vanity and emptiness were stamped upon them—and he counted them as absolute loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ.
Holy longing & intense desires
"That I may know Him." Philippians 3:10
There can be no earnest desire to know Christ, nor any holy panting after a spiritual revelation of Him—while the heart is pursuing worldly objects. But he who is spiritually taught is at times panting with holy longing and intense desires to know Jesus—that He would come down in His heavenly power, in all His sweetness and suitability—and take up His abode in his soul, conforming it to His own image and likeness.
God will have all the glory!
"My glory will I not give to another." Isaiah 42:8
God will have all the glory to Himself! But you and I are such base wretches, that we would rob the Lord Himself of His glory—if He did not teach us otherwise. If He did not open up to us the depth of our corruption, and show us the depravity that lurks and works in our carnal minds—if He did not cover our faces with shame—if He did not put us in the furnace to burn out our pride—if He did not drag us through the water to drown our hypocrisy—if He did not humble us under a daily sense of our frailty and feebleness—we would soon want to sit down on the same throne with the Lord—and share the glory of salvation with Him!
Your greatest sweets
We often find that those very times when God's people think they are faring ill—are the seasons when they are really faring well. And again, at other times, when they think they are faring well—then they are really faring ill. For instance, when their souls are bowed down with trouble—it often seems to them that they are faring ill. God's hand appears gone out against them in trouble, sorrow, and affliction. These troubles wean them from the world. If their heart and affections were going out after idols—these troubles instrumentally bring them back. If they were hewing out broken cisterns—these troubles dash them all to pieces. If they were setting up, and bowing down to idols in the chambers of imagery—affliction and trouble smite them to pieces before their eyes—take away their gods—and leave them no refuge but the Lord God almighty.
If you can only look back, you will often see that your greatest sweets have sprung out of your greatest bitters, and the greatest blessings have flowed from the greatest miseries, and what at the time you thought your greatest sorrows—you will find that the brightest light has sprung up in the blackest darkness, and that the Lord never made Himself so precious as at the time when you were sunk lowest—so as to be without human help, wisdom, or strength. So that when a child of God thinks he is faring very ill, because burdened with sorrows, temptations, and afflictions—he is never faring so well.
Such a mystery
True religion is such a mystery. When we think we are faring well—we are often faring ill. When we think we are faring ill—we are often faring well. When we think that now we have got into an easy, smooth, and comfortable path—it is then leading us wrong. When we say, 'The path is so rugged and intricate; we are so perplexed, and so little able to see the way that we fear we are out of the track altogether'—that is the very time when the Lord is leading us in the right way!
Sometimes we feel, 'We are so black and polluted—such awful sinners—such horrible creatures—that the Lord cannot look on us!' That is the very moment when He may smile into the heart! When we may think we are getting on at a rapid pace in spirituality and holiness, making wonderful advances in the divine life, and getting almost to the pinnacle of 'creature perfection'—we discover through some terrible inward slip, that we are on the wrong path, and have been drawn aside by self-righteousness and pharisaical pride.
So that at last we seem brought to this point—to have no wisdom of our own to see the way—and to have no strength to walk in the way when seen—but that we must be guided every step by the Lord Himself. And thus we sink down into creature nothingness and creature emptiness, and feel no more merit in our heart, lip, or life, why God should save us, than there is in Satan himself. And thus we sink so low—that none but God Himself can lift us up. And this is the very time when God usually appears—and most singularly displays His mercy, love, and grace!
Now, it is by walking in this trying path that we learn our utter ruin—and learn to prize God's salvation. The power of saving truth is only prized by those whom God is thus teaching. Others are satisfied with 'shadows'—but those that are deeply exercised in their mind, must have the 'substance.' Those who have had their false refuges destroyed—their lying hopes broken—and a thousand difficulties and perplexities surrounding them—as the Lord opens the eyes, and brings His truth before them—want the power and application of this truth to their heart. Nothing suits or satisfies them but the unction of the Spirit—and the dew of God's power and presence resting on and felt in their souls. They can no longer be satisfied with the mere form—no longer rest for salvation on a few notions—no longer hang their eternal all upon the good opinion of the creature.
And thus, by this painful work in their souls, they learn—that they have no more religion than God works in them—that they can only know what God teaches them—that they can only have what He communicates to them—and that they are wholly and solely dependent upon Him to guide and keep them every moment of their lives!
Worldly men indeed despise them—mere professors hate them—the devil harasses them—their names are generally cast out as evil—and universal charity, which has a good opinion of all, has not a single, good word for them! That they are such a mystery to others is no wonder, when they are such a mystery to themselves. How they hold on they cannot tell—but they find they cannot move unless God moves them. How they pray is a mystery—yet at times they feel the spirit of prayer alive in their bosoms. How their souls are kept pleading and waiting for the Lord at the footstool of His mercy is a mystery—yet they cannot deny that this is the experience of their hearts. So that when they come to look at the way in which the Lord has led them, from first to last—it is all an unfathomable mystery!
Why God should have chosen them in Christ is a mystery. Why He should have quickened their souls when "dead in trespasses and sins," is a mystery. Why He should have wrought a sense of contrition in their hearts is a mystery. Why He should have given a sense of His love to them is a mystery. Why He should have preserved them from error, while thousands have been entangled in it, is a mystery. Why He should keep them day by day, and hour by hour—without allowing them to disgrace His cause, deny His truth, turn their back on Him, or go into the world, is a mystery. And yet they find that they have and are all these things—so that the greatest mystery of all is—that they are what they are!
Thus, do they fare well, because God takes care they shall fare well. He manages all their concerns—He watches over them by night and by day—He waters them continually—He guides and leads them until He brings them home to His heavenly kingdom!
Destitute of vital godliness
"Having a form of godliness, but denying the power." 2 Timothy 3:5
There is nothing so deceitful as having "a form of godliness," while the "power" of it is denied—nothing so delusive as having a "name to live," while the soul is dead before God. If there is one hypocritical character more than another, whom the man of God should point out—it is he who, with a profession, is destitute of vital godliness—he who has the 'form of doctrinal truth in the judgment,' but who never has experienced 'the power of that truth in his soul'—humbling him in the dust, and raising him up to a spiritual knowledge of Jesus Christ.
Our lost, ruined state
"My soul stays close to You." Psalm 63:8
Grace only suits those who are altogether guilty and filthy. Until we are divinely enlightened to see, and spiritually quickened to feel our lost, ruined state, we are satisfied with the things of time and sense—our hearts are in the world—our affections are fixed on the poor perishing vanities that must quickly pass away—and there is not one spiritual longing or heavenly craving in the soul.
Inward ornaments
"Let your beauty be not just the outward adorning of braiding the hair, and of wearing jewels of gold, or of putting on fine clothing; but in the hidden person of the heart, in the incorruptible adornment of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God very precious." 1 Peter 3:3, 4
O what wise instruction does the Apostle give to those wives and daughters that profess godliness! And how he warns them against attiring themselves like the daughters of Belial, and following the women of Canaan in their love of gay and fashionable apparel—while they slight the inward adornings of the Spirit, such as kindness, gentleness, meekness, and humility! But how far better are these inward ornaments which the Spirit of God puts into the heart! And how much more lovely do they look thus spiritually attired than if loaded with all the finery that the daughters of Belial array themselves in!
A precious, saving experience
A precious, saving experience springs out of the teaching of God in the soul, and the work of the Holy Spirit upon the heart. Every conviction of sin that springs from the Spirit's inward convincing operations is precious as being the handiwork of God. Every sigh, every cry, every groan, every tear, every honest, humble confession before God of what we have been and are, is precious—because it is wrought by a divine power in the soul and the result of it, is salvation. Every sweet manifestation of the Son of God to the soul—every glimpse, glance, gleam, or view of His glorious Person by faith—every shining in of the light of His countenance—every application of His Word with power—every whisper of His heavenly love—every drawing of His divine grace—every application of His precious truth to the heart is precious. It comes from God—it leads to God—it is the work of the Holy Spirit—it prepares the soul for eternity—it is a jewel of God's own gift.
Even the humblings that we experience under the hand of God—the breaking down of a hard heart—the softening of an obdurate spirit, the melting of soul under the breath of the Lord—with the going forth of supplication, confession, and desire unto the God of all our mercies to look upon us and bless us—is precious, because it is His gift and work. Everything which—brings out of self—draws to the Lord—makes sin hateful—makes Jesus precious—puts the world under our feet—gives us the victory over sin—weans us from the love of self—and makes the Lord Jesus precious, should be called a precious experience!
They will not & cannot give it up
Grace calls us out of the world—out of the love and spirit of it. But where there is no regenerating grace, the world cleaves so fast to men's hearts that they will not and cannot give it up—they rest in the world and the satisfaction that the world gives. Others are hardened through the deceitfulness of sin. Satan spreads his snares for their feet—some base lust—some vile scheme—some covetous plan—some secret plan which he has baited with a bait exactly suitable to their fallen nature—he spreads for their feet—they are entangled, overcome, and become hardened through the deceitfulness of sin!
O visit me
"O visit me with Your salvation." Psalm 106:4
How is a man brought and taught to want to be "visited with" God's salvation? He must know something first of condemnation. Salvation only suits the condemned. "The Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost," and therefore salvation only suits the lost. A man must be lost—utterly lost—before he can prize God's salvation. And how is he lost? By losing all his religion—losing all his righteousness—losing all his strength—losing all his confidence, losing all his hopes—losing all that is of the flesh—losing it by its being taken from him—and stripped away by the hand of God. A man who is brought into this state of utter beggary and complete bankruptcy—to be nothing—to have nothing—to know nothing—he is the man who in the midnight watches, in his lonely hours, by his fireside, and at times well-near night and day—is crying, groaning, begging, suing, seeking, and praying after the manifestation of God's salvation to his soul—O visit me with Your salvation!
He needs a visit from God! He wants God to—come and dwell with him—take up His abode in his heart—discover Himself to him—manifest and reveal Himself—sit down with him—eat with him—walk with him—and dwell in Him as his God. And a living soul can be satisfied with nothing short of this. He must have a visit. It profits him little to read in the Word of God what God did to His saints of old. He wants something for himself—something that shall do his soul good. He wants something that shall cheer, refresh, comfort, bless and profit him—remove his burdens—and settle his soul into peace. And therefore he wants a visitation—that the presence and power, the mercy and love of God should visit his soul.
The Word, in the hands of the Spirit
True and saving religion is the work of the Holy Spirit operating upon the heart through the Word—giving us faith by the application of the Word—raising up hope by the power of the Word—shedding abroad love by bringing the truth of the Word with power into the soul. The Word, in the hands of the Spirit, has—an enlightening power—a quickening influence—a penetrating energy—a divine force—an invincible power—which carries it into the inmost depths of the soul. This special and invincible power distinguishes the work of the Spirit from all and every work of the flesh. The work in those who merely believe for a time is superficial, shallow, external—there is no penetration with divine power, so as to change the man in the depths of his heart, to renew him in the spirit of his mind, and make him a new creature in Christ.
Free from its power & influence
"And you shall know the truth, and the truth will make you free." John 8:32
We are by nature in bondage to the world. But a saving knowledge of the truth will bring a freedom from the world, and all its alluring charms—its vain attractions—its sensual pleasures—its carking cares—its toils and anxieties. It sets the soul free from being entangled in, overcome, and over-burdened by these things—as if they were our all. We still have to do with the world. We must be daily occupied with it. But the truth will give you sweet liberty from it. You will not—walk with the men of the world—love the company of the world—nor be entangled in the love of the world—because the truth in its purity and power applied to your heart, will make you free from its power and influence. There is no holy liberty but the freedom which springs from the blessed influence and operations of the Holy Spirit on the heart, applying the Word of God with power to the soul. This gives true freedom—brings into the soul real liberty—and relieves it from that bondage in which we have so often to walk.
It is hard work to have our filth removed
"From all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you." Ezekiel 36:25
It is hard work to have our filth removed, and often takes a long time to effect, and that, perhaps, amid much opposition and rebellion against such humbling dealings. But we shall be made, sooner or later, to pine after the Lord's sensible presence in our soul, and then we shall feel, that before we can realize it, there must be a solemn repenting and honest confession of sin—and that we must fall down before God as poor guilty sinners, condemned in our own conscience. We stand as long as we can upon our own legs—we rest as long as we can upon something in self.
But all this self-dependence and self-righteousness, sooner or later, must come down—must give way—though it may take years to do it—with trial upon trial—affliction after affliction—and temptation after temptation. The Lord brings us to fall flat before Him in the dust of self-abasement, having no hope but in Him. But when He has purged away the filth of pride, self-righteousness, creature strength, with all other evils—and there is nothing left in the soul but the ashes of self—we can fall flat before God, putting our mouth in the dust. Then He will come—gently and sweetly come over all the hills and mountains of our sin and shame—and manifest His sensible presence to our souls.
Your money
"You are not your own." 1 Corinthians 6:19
Your money is not your own. You may not spend it just as you please—without check of conscience—without restraint of godly fear—without putting to yourself any inquiry how far you are spending it aright. You should be like a miser who looks at every shilling before he parts with it. So should every shilling be looked at, carefully and narrowly, by a Christian, whether it is spent for the honor and glory of God or not. I grant that this may seem to tie us up very closely, and that is one reason, perhaps, why the people of God are kept, for the most part, so tight in hand, that they have very little loose money to spend as they like. But even if we have a competency, or perhaps more than a competency, if we are under divine influences and gospel obligations, although we may have the money, we cannot throw it here and there to please and gratify the flesh—adorning the body with costly clothing, either for ourselves or our children—and decorating the house with new and unnecessary furniture. This is not the obligation of gospel grace. Your money is not your own, if you are a Christian. You are but a steward. If you have much, the more responsible you are for the right use of it. If you have little, still you are a steward for that little.
A slavery too galling for our proud heart to bear!
"Everyone who commits sin is the slave of sin." John 8:34
Once we thought we were our own. We dreamed of liberty—when we really were in the hardest, cruelest bondage. We thought we had no master—when we were serving the hardest of all masters. We boasted of our freedom—that we could do what we liked, and say what we liked, without being called to account for it by anyone—that we could roam at will, like a bee, from flower to flower, sucking up the sweets of sin—and promising to ourselves as rich a feast on the morrow, as we were enjoying today. We little dreamt that all the time sin held us fast in fetters which—though they seemed made of silk—yet really were of iron! It is the greatest delusion to think and call ourselves free—when we are slaves to pride and lust!
Now during all this time of 'imagined freedom'—but real servitude, it seemed as if we were our own lord and master. The idea of independence was sweet to us, and to be dependent upon anyone, even upon the God who made us, was a slavery too galling for our proud heart to bear! But now assume that grace has made us free from this 'imagined independence'—but real slavery—that the gospel has been made the word of salvation to our souls—that we have been brought under new obligations—live under fresh constraints—are influenced by different motives—are led by another spirit—and are brought into a childlike dependence upon God, both in providence and in grace. We can now feel the force of the apostle's words—Ye are not your own.
Now you can look back upon a time when you served hard masters, and yet loved their service. The world had possession of your affections—sin domineered, rioted, and raged in your carnal heart. SELF was uppermost in all your thoughts and desires, and whatever line of conduct it prompted, or rather, 'commanded,' you willingly obeyed. Now when you were under these hard masters, though their servitude was sweet to you as long as you thought you were your own, you could do, to a certain extent, as you pleased with yourself. Your jailer, though he watched you narrowly as being able to pounce upon you at any moment, like a cat on a wounded mouse, yet gave you a certain latitude, as knowing thereby you would do more effectually his work and bind his chains more strongly round your neck. In this way, therefore, your time, your talents, your money, the members of your body, the faculties of your mind were your own. You could spend your time as you pleased—use your abilities as you thought most conducive to your worldly interests—do with your money as your inclination best prompted—and use the members of your body to minister to your natural desires. And in all this there was no one to check you, no one to call you to account for what you had said or done.
You did not, indeed, see that all this time sin was your master, and the love of the world deeply rooted in your heart ruled and governed you. Nor did you see what ignorance and blindness held your eyes in the grossest darkness. Thus you imagined you were free—when you were the greatest slave of sin and Satan! But now you have been brought out of all this miserable bondage, and having been convinced of sin by the law, and been brought in guilty, have found peace and pardon through the blood of Jesus Christ.
Now what is the effect of this blessing from on high? Has it not liberated you from that miserable bondage to sin, Satan, the world, and self—which I have described? Has it not set your feet, as it were, into a new track, opened before you a new field, laid upon you new obligations, and to crown all, in one word, brought you under the easy yoke of a new Master?
Romantic expectations of a little earthly paradise?
"You looked for much, and, behold, it came to little; and when you brought it home, I blew it away." Haggai 1:9
Have you found your airy dreams and cherished projects realized? Have your ambitious projects been crowned with success? Have you not had repeated disappointments—and have not others, who seemed inferior to you in ability or in promise, outstripped you in the race? Your fleshly projects—your carnal hopes—your airy castles—your dreams of happiness—your romantic expectations of a little earthly paradise—have all been cruelly—as you have thought in the bitterness of your soul, disappointed—the buds dropped off just when they began to promise flower, and a blight fell upon your whole life, so that you could not reap the harvest you had been indulging anticipations of.
God will take care to lay cross after cross, and trial after trial upon His people—until He brings them to submission. O how soon He can give this sweet and heavenly grace! How, in a moment, He can pour oil upon the troubled waves! How He can break to pieces that stubborn obstinacy and rebelliousness of which the heart is full—and give submission to His will! How He can humble and bend the proud spirit—fill the heart with humility and love—enable us to kiss the rod—and to fall prostrate before His dispensations—however severe they may be to the flesh!
Satisfaction?
Have we not tried the world? For how many years did we labor to glut our fleshly appetites with the dust and dirt that the world offered us. But did we ever reap any solid satisfaction from it? Have we not endeavored to satisfy ourselves with the pleasures of sin? And did they ever leave anything but pain and sorrow behind them? Have we not attempted to satisfy ourselves with a form of godliness, a name to live, a self-righteous religion? And was there not always something lacking? Have we not tried to satisfy ourselves with 'doctrines floating in the judgment,' and yet reaped no satisfaction—for there was always an aching void? Guilt was not purged away—sin was not pardoned—Christ not revealed—the love of God not shed abroad—salvation not known.
We have found that there was no satisfaction in anything—all was a blank—all is vanity and vexation of spirit—except the goodness of God to our souls. But when the Lord has fixed His choice upon a vessel of mercy, and when, in pursuance of that choice, cutting him off from the world, He causes him, by the internal teachings and drawing of His Spirit, to approach unto Himself, and shows him something of the beauty and glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ—that satisfies him—and there is no satisfaction until that is made known.
And what are we to be satisfied with? With a mere apprehension of Gospel truth? There is no satisfaction there. With our experience? Why, if we look at it, there are so many flaws and failings, so many ins and outs, so many things that stagger us, that we cannot be fully satisfied with all of that. Can we take the opinions of men concerning us? O, we think, they may all be deceived. Can we take our own opinion of ourselves? That is worse than the opinion of others—for he who trusts his own heart is a fool. With what, then, are we to be satisfied? In the goodness manifested in the Person of Christ. What grace and mercy, what favor and love are manifested in the Person of Jesus! And when we see and feel how good and kind, how gracious, favorable, and merciful He is—that brings satisfaction. There is in Him a righteousness and atoning blood to satisfy all the demands of the law, and all the cravings of a guilty conscience. There is a power that satisfies—a love that satisfies—a salvation that satisfies—and nothing else but these will satisfy.