The Fountain of Life Opened Up

Alas, the soul is so far from being assisted in the enjoyment of God by the body, in its present state, that it is clogged or hindered by it. So speaks the Apostle, 2 Corinthians 5, verses 6 and 8. While we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord. That is, our bodies prejudice our souls, obstruct and hinder the fullness and freedom of their communion. When we part from the body, we go home to the Lord. Then the soul is escaped as a bird out of a cage or snare. Here I am anticipated by an excellent pen, Shaw's Farewell to Life, to whose excellent observations on this point I only add this, that if the entanglements, snares, and prejudices of the soul are such in its embodied state, that it cannot so freely dilate itself and receive the comforts of God by communion with Him, then surely the laying aside of that clog, or the freeing of the soul from that burden, can be no bar to the greater happiness it enjoys in its separate state. Number 2. Why should the happiness and glory of the soul be deferred unless God has some farther, preparative work to do upon it, before it be fit to be admitted into glory? But surely there is no such work wrought upon it after its separation by death. All that is done in the work of preparation is done here. The day is then ended, and night comes, when no man can work. John 9.3 Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. For there is no wisdom, no knowledge, nor device in the grave, whither thou goest. Ecclesiastes 9.10 So that our glorification is not deferred in order to our fuller preparation for glory. If we are not fit when we die, we can never be fit. All is done upon us that ever was intended to be done. For departed saints are called the spirits of the just made perfect. Hebrews 12.23 Number 3. Again, why should our salvation slumber when the damnation of the wicked slumbers not? God defers not their misery, and surely He will not defer our glory. If He be quick with His enemies, He will not be slow and dilatory with His friends. It cannot be imagined, but He is as much inclined to acts of favor to His children as to acts of justice to His enemies. See Jude 7, Acts 1, 25, 1 Peter 3, 19, 20. Number 4. How do such delays accord with Christ's ardent desires to have His people with Him where He is, and with the vehement longings of their souls to be with Christ? You may see those reflected flames of love between the bridegroom and his spouse in Revelation 22, verses 17 and 20. They long for His coming, and the expectation and faith in which the saints die is then to be satisfied, and surely God will not deceive them. I deny not, but their glory will be more complete when the body, their absent friend, is reunited, and made to share with them in their happiness. Yet that hinders not, but meanwhile the soul may enjoy its glory while the body sleeps in the dust. Inference number 1. Are believers immediately with God after their dissolution? Then how surprisingly glorious will heaven be to believers! Not that they are in it before they think of it, or are fitted for it. No, they have spent many thoughts upon it before, and been long preparing for it. But the suddenness and greatness of the change is amazing to our thoughts. For a soul to be now here in the body, conversing with men, living among sensible objects, and within a few moments to be with the Lord. This hour on earth, the next in the third heaven. Now viewing this world, and anon standing among an innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of the just made perfect. Oh, what a change is this! To live as angels of God, to live without eating, drinking, sleeping. To be lifted up from a bed of sickness to a throne of glory. To leave a sinful, troublesome world, a sick and pained body, and be, in a moment, perfectly cured, and feel thyself perfectly well, and free from all infirmity and sorrow. You cannot think what this will be. Who can tell what sights, what apprehensions, what thoughts, what frames, believing souls have, before the bodies they left are removed from the eyes of their dear surviving friends. Number two. Are believers immediately with God after their dissolution? Where then shall unbelievers be, and in what state will they find themselves, immediately after death have closed their eyes. To be torn from the body, from friends and comforts, and thrust into endless misery into the dark vault of hell. Never more to see the light of this world, never to see a comfortable sight, never to hear a joyful sound, never to know the meaning of rest, peace or delight anymore. Oh, what a change! To exchange the smiles and applause of men for the frowns and fury of God. To be clothed with flames and drink divine wrath, when but a few days before they were clothed in silks and filled with earthly pleasure. How is the state of things altered with them? It was the lamentable cry of poor Adrian when he felt death approaching. Oh, my poor wandering soul, alas, whither art thou going? Where must thou lodge this night? Thou shalt never jest more, never be merry more. Your term in your houses and bodies is out, and there is another habitation provided for you, but it is a dismal one. When a saint dies, heaven above is, as it were, moved to receive and entertain him. At his coming he is received into everlasting habitations, into the inheritance of the saints in light. When an unbeliever dies, we may say of him, hell from beneath is moved for him, to meet him at his coming. It stirreth up the dead for him. Isaiah 14 verse 9 No more sports, nor plays, nor cups of wine, nor sensual delight. The more of these you enjoyed here, the more intolerable will this change be to you. If things are immediately with God, others are immediately with Satan. Number 3 How little cause have they to fear death, who shall be with God so soon after their death. Some there are that tremble at the thoughts of death, that cannot endure to hear it mentioned, that would rather stoop to any misery here, yea, to any sin, than die, because they are afraid of the exchange. But you that are interested in Christ can lose nothing by the exchange. The words death, grave, and eternity should have another kind of sound in your ears, and make contrary impressions upon your hearts. If your earthly tabernacle be broken up, you shall not be found naked. You have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. And it is but a step out of this, into that. Oh, what sweet and happy thoughts should you have of that great and last change. But what speak I of your fearlessness of death? Your duty lies much higher than that. 4 Number 4 If believers are immediately with God after their dissolution, then it is their duty to long for that dissolution and cast many an anxious look towards heaven. So did Paul. A desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. The advantages of this exchange are unspeakable. You have gold for brass, wine for water, substance for shadow, solid glory for very vanity. Oh, if the dust of this earth were but once blown out of your eyes, that you might see the divine glory, how weary would you be to live, how willing to die. But then be sure that your title is sound and good. Leave not so great a concern to the last. For though God may do for you in an hour what was not done all your days, yet it is not common. Proposition number 3 God may, though he seldom doth, prepare men for glory immediately before their dissolution by death. There is one parable and no more that speaks of some that were called at the last hour. Matthew 20 verses 9 and 10 And there is this one instance in the text and no more that gives us an account of a person so called. We acknowledge God may do it, his grace is his own. He may dispense it how and where he pleases. Who shall fix bounds or put limits to free grace but God himself, whose it is. If he do not ordinarily show such mercy to dying sinners, as indeed he doth not, it is not because their hearts are so hardened by long custom in sin that his grace cannot break them, but because he most justly withholds that grace from them. When blessed Mr. Bilney, the martyr, heard a minister preaching thus, O thou old sinner, thou hast lain these fifty years rotting in thy sin. Dost thou think now to be saved, that the blood of Christ shall save thee? O said Mr. Bilney, what preaching of Christ is this? If I had heard no other preaching than this, what had become of me? No, no, old sinners or young sinners, great or small sinners are not to be beaten off from Christ, but encouraged to repentance and faith. For who knows but the bowels of mercy may yearn at last upon one that hath all along rejected it. This thief, a few hours before he died, was as unlikely ever to receive mercy as any person in the world could be. But surely we have no encouragement to neglect the present season of mercy, because God may show mercy hereafter. Many, I know, have hardened themselves in ways of sin by this example of mercy. But what God did at this time for this man cannot be expected to be done ordinarily. For, number one, God hath vouchsafed us the ordinary and stated means of grace, which this sinner had not. And therefore we cannot expect such extraordinary and unusual conversion as he had. This poor preacher probably never heard one sermon preached by Christ or any of his apostles. He lived the life of a highwayman and concerned not himself about religion. But we have Christ preached freely and constantly in our assemblies. We have line upon line, precept upon precept. And when God affords the ordinary preaching of the gospel, he doth not use to work wonders. When Israel was in the wilderness, then God gave them bread from heaven and clathed the rocks to give them drink. But when they came to Canaan, where they had the ordinary means of subsistence, the man assist. Such a conversion as this may not be ordinarily expected by any man, because such circumstances will never occur again. It is possible if Christ were to die again, and thou be crucified with him, thou mightest receive thy conversion in such a miraculous and extraordinary way. But Christ dies no more, such a day as that will never come again. Mr. Fenner, in his excellent discourse upon this point, tells us that as this was an extraordinary time, Christ being now to be installed in his kingdom and crowned with glory and honor, so extraordinary things were now done. As when kings are crowned, the streets are richly adorned, the conduits run with wine, and great malefactors are pardoned. For then they show their royal munificence and bounty. It is the day of the gladness of their hearts. But let a man come at another time to the conduits, he shall find no wine, but ordinary water. Let a man be in jail at another time, and he may be hanged. Yea, and have no reason but to expect and prepare for it. What Christ did now for this man was at an extraordinary time. Such a conversion as this may not ordinarily be expected, for as such circumstances will never occur again, so there will never more be the same reason for such a conversion. Christ converted him upon the cross to give an instance of his divine power at that time, when it was almost wholly clouded, as in that day the divinity of Christ broke forth in other miracles. The unusual eclipse of the sun, the great earthquake, the rending of the rocks and veil of the temple, all to give evidence of the divinity of Christ and prove him to be the Son of God whom they crucified. But that is now sufficiently confirmed, and there will be no more occasion for miracles to prove it. 4. No one has reason to expect such a conversion that enjoys the ordinary means, because though in this convert we have a pattern of what free grace can do, yet as divines pertinently observe, it is a pattern without a promise. God has not added any promise to it that ever he will do it for any other, and where we have not a promise to encourage our hope, our hope can avail but little. 1. Let those that have found mercy in the evening of their life admire the extraordinary grace that therein hath appeared to them. O that ever God should accept the bran when Satan hath had the flower of thy days. The above-named reverend author tells us of one Marcus Caius Victorious, a very aged man in the primitive times, who was converted from heathenism to Christianity in his old age. He came to a minister and told him he heartily owned and embraced the Christian faith, but neither the minister nor the church for a long time would trust him from the unusualness of conversion at such an age. But after he had given them good evidence of its reality, there were acclamations and singing of songs, the people everywhere crying, Marcus Caius Victorious is become a Christian. This was written for a wonder. O if God had wrought such wondrous salvation for you, what cause have you to do more for him than others? To appear to you at last, when so hardened by long custom in sin, that one might say, Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? O what riches of mercy have appeared to you! Number 2 Let these convince and startle such as even to their gray hairs remain in an unconverted state. Bethink yourselves, ye that are full of days and full of sin, whose time is almost ended, and your great work not begun, who have but a few sands more in the glass to run, and then your conversion will be impossible. Your sun is setting, your night is coming, the shadows of the evening are stretched out upon you, you have one foot in the grave. O think how sad a case you are in! God may do wonders, but they are not seen every day, for then they would cease to be wonders. O strive, strive while you have a little time and a few more helps and means. Strive to get that work accomplished now that was never yet done. Defer it no longer, you have delayed too long already. It may be you have been these sixty, seventy, or eighty years beginning to live, about to change your practice, but hitherto you still continue the same. Do not you see how Satan has deceived and cheated you with vain purposes, till he has brought you to the very brink of the grave and hell? O it is time now to make a stand, pause a little where you are, and see to what he has brought you. The Lord now at last gives you an eye to see and a heart to consider. Let this be a call and caution to all the young to begin with God betimes, and take heed of delaying till the last, as many thousands have done, to their eternal ruin. Now is your time, if you desire to be in Christ, if you have any sense of the weight and worth of eternal things upon your hearts. I know your age is one that delights not in the serious thoughts of death and eternity. You are more inclined to enjoy your pleasures, and leave these serious matters to old age. But let me persuade you against that by these considerations. O seek religion now, because this is the moulding age. Now your hearts are tender and your affections flowing. Now is the time when you are most likely to be wrought upon. Now, because this is the freest part of your time, it is with the morning of life as with the morning of the day. If a man have business to be done, let him take the morning for it. For in the after part of the day a hurry of business comes on, so that either you forget it or want opportunity for it. Now, because your life is immediately uncertain, you are not certain that ever you shall attain the years of your fathers. There are graves in the churchyard just of your length, and skulls of all sorts and sizes in Golgotha, as the Jews proverb is. Now, because God will not spare you on account of your youth, if you die without an interest in Christ. Now, because your life will be the more eminently useful and serviceable to God, when you know Him but times, and early begin His service. Augustine repented, and so have many thousands since, that he began so late, and knew God no sooner. Now, because your whole life will be happier, if the morning of it is dedicated to the Lord. The first fruit sanctify the whole harvest. This will have a sweet influence upon all your days, whatever changes, straits, or troubles you may meet. Chapter 33, page 402. Fourth saying of Christ on the cross, My God, My God, etc. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabatsani. That is to say, My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me? Matthew 27, 46. These are words that might rend the hardest heart. It is the voice of the Son of God in an agony. His sufferings were great, very great before, but never in such extremity as now, when this heart-rending and heart-melting outcry broke from Him upon the cross. Eli, Eli, lama sabatsani. In which observe, number one, the time when it was uttered was about the ninth hour, or about three in the afternoon. For as the Jews reckoned the hours of the day from six in the morning, their ninth hour answered to our third in the afternoon. And this is particularly marked by the evangelists to show us how long Christ hung in distress upon the cross, both in soul and body, which at least was full three hours. Towards the end whereof His soul was so distressed and overwhelmed that He uttered this doleful cry in His bitter anguish. Number two, the manner of this complaint. It is not of the cruel tortures He felt in His body, nor of the scoffs and reproaches of His name. They were all swallowed up in the sufferings within, as the river is swallowed up in the sea, or the lesser flame in the greater. He seems to neglect all these and only complains of what was more burdensome than ten thousand crosses, even His fathers deserting Him. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? It is a more inward trouble that burdens Him and darkens His spirit, the hidings of God's face and affliction to which He was totally a stranger until now. Number three, the manner in which He uttered His sad complaint was with remarkable vehemency. He cried with a loud voice, not like a dying man in whom nature was spent, but as one full of vigor, life and sense. He stirred up the whole power of nature when He made this grievous outcry. There is in it also an emphatical reduplication, which shows with what vehemency it was uttered, My God, my God. Nay, to increase the force and vehemency of this complaint, here is an affectionate interrogation, Why hast Thou forsaken me? It is as if He were surprised by the strangeness of this affliction and rousing up Himself with an unusual vehemency, turns Himself to the Father and cries, Why so, my Father? O what dost Thou mean by this? What, hide that face from me that was never hid before? What, hide it from me now in the depths of my other torments and sorrows? O what new, what strange things are these? Hence, God, to heighten the sufferings of Christ to the uttermost, forsook Him in the time of His greatest distress to the unspeakable affliction and anguish of His soul. This proposition shall be considered in respect to the desertion itself, the design or end of it, and its effect and influence on Christ. Roman Numeral I. The Desertion Itself Divine desertion, generally considered, is God's withdrawing Himself from many, not as to His essence, for that filth heaven and earth and constantly remains the same, but as to the manifestation of His favor, grace, and love. When these are gone, God is said to be gone. Devils and the damned are absolutely and forever forsaken of God. It is in another sense that He sometimes forsakes His dearest children, that is, He removes all sweet manifestations of His favor and love for a time. This desertion of Christ by His Father was, number one, a very sad desertion, such as was never in all respects experienced by any, nor can be to the end of the world. All His other sufferings were but small to this. They bore upon His body, this upon His soul. They came from the hands of vile men, this from the hands of His Father. He suffered both in body and soul, but the sufferings of His soul were the very soul of His sufferings. Under all His other sufferings He opened not His mouth, but this touched the quick, so that He could not but cry out, My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me? Number two. It was a penal desertion, inflicted on Him as a satisfaction for those sins of ours, which deserve that God should forsake us forever, as the damned are forsaken by Him. As there lies a twofold misery upon the damned in hell, namely pain of sense and pain of loss, so upon Christ answerably there was not only an impression of wrath, but also a subtraction or withdrawalment of all sensible favor and love. Number three. It was a real, not fictitious desertion. He does not personate a deserted soul, and speak as if God had withdrawn the comfortable sense and influence of His love from him, but the thing was so indeed. The Godhead restrained and kept back for this time all its joys, comforts, and sense of love from the manhood. This bitter, doleful outcry of Christ gives evidence enough of its reality. Number four. This desertion took place in the time of Christ's greatest need. His Father forsook Him at that time, when all earthly comforts had forsaken Him, and all outward evils had broken in together upon Him. When men, yea, the best of men stood afar off, and none but barbarous enemies were about Him. When pain and shame and all miseries weighed Him down, then to complete and fill up His suffering, God stands afar off too. Number five. It was such a desertion as left Him only to the supports of His faith. He had nothing now to rest upon but His Father's covenant and promise, and indeed the faith of Christ manifested itself in these very words of complaint in the text. For though all comfortable sights of God and sense of love were obstructed, yet you see His soul still pleased to God. His faith laid hold on God. Eli, Eli, my God, my God. Thou with whom is infinite and everlasting strength. Thou that hast hitherto supported my manhood, and according to Thy promise upheld Thy servant. What, wilt Thou now forsake me? My God, I lean upon Thee. To these supports and refuges of faith this desertion shut up Christ. By these things He stood, when all other visible and sensible comforts shrunk away, both from His soul and body. Roman numeral two. Consider the designs and ends of Christ's desertion, which were principally satisfaction and sanctification. Satisfaction for those sins of ours, which deserve that we should be totally and everlastingly forsaken of God. This is the desert of every sin, and the damned do feel it, and shall to all eternity. God is gone from them forever. Not essentially. The just God is within them still. The God of power is still within them. The avenging God is ever with them. But the merciful God is gone, and gone forever. And thus would He have withdrawn Himself from every soul that sinned, had not Christ borne that punishment for us in His own soul. If He had not cried, My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? We must have howled out this hideous complaint in the lowest hell forever. O righteous God, Thou hast forever forsaken me. And as satisfaction was designed in this desertion of Christ, so also was the sanctification of every desertion of the saints. For He, having been forsaken before us, and for us, whenever God forsakes us, that very forsaking is sanctified, and thereby turned into a mercy to believers. Hence are all the precious fruits and effects of our desertions, such as the earnest exciting of the soul to prayer, Psalm 77 verse 2, and chapter 88 verses 1 through 9, fortifying the tempted soul against sin, reviving former experiences, Psalm 77 verse 5, enhancing the value of the divine presence with the soul, and teaching it to hold Christ faster than ever before. These and many more are the previous effects of sanctified desertion. But how many, or how good soever these effects are, they all owe themselves to Jesus Christ as their author, who for our sakes would pass through this sad and dark state that we might find in it such blessings. Roman numeral 3. Consider the effects and influence of this desertion upon the Spirit of Christ. It did not drive Him to despair, yet it even amazed Him and almost swallowed up His soul in the deeps of trouble and consternation. This cry is a cry from the deeps, from a soul oppressed even to death. Let but five particulars be weighed, and you will see, never was there any darkness like this, no sorrow like Christ's sorrow in this deserted state. Number 1. This was a new thing to Christ, such as He never was acquainted with before. From all eternity until now, there had been constant and wonderful outpourings of love, delight and joy from the bosom of the Father into His bosom. He never missed His Father before, never saw a frown or a veil upon that blessed face before. This made it a heavy burden indeed. Number 2. As it was a new thing and therefore the more amazing, so it was a great thing to Christ, so great that He scarce knew how to support it. Had it not been a great trial indeed, so great a spirit as His would not have so drooped under it and made so sad a complaint of it. It was so sharp, so heavy an affliction to His soul that it caused Him, who was meek under all other sufferings as a lamb, to roar under this like a lion. For so much those words of Christ signify, My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Why art Thou so far from the voice of my roaring? Number 3. It was, too, a burden laid on in the time of His greatest distress when His body was in tortures and all about Him was full of horror and darkness. He suffered this desertion at a time when He never had such need of divine supports and comforts. Number 4. So heavy was this pressure upon Christ's soul that in all probability it hastened His death. It was not usual for crucified persons to expire so soon, and those that were crucified with Him were both alive after Christ's spirit was gone. Some have hung more than a day and a night, some two full days and nights, in these torments alive, but never did any feel inwardly what Christ felt. He bore it till the ninth hour, then makes a fearful outcry and dies. Inference number 1. Did God forsake Christ upon the cross as a punishment to Him for our sins? Then as often as we have sinned, so oft have we deserved to be forsaken of God. This is the just recompense and desert of sin. And indeed, here lies the principal evil of sin that it separates between God and the soul. By sin we depart from God, and as a due punishment of it, God departs from us. This will be the dismal sentence in the last day, Depart from me, ye cursed. Matthew 25. Thenceforth there will be a gulf fixed between God and them. Luke 19.20 No more friendly intercourse with the blessed God forever. Beware, sinners, how you say to God now, depart from us. We desire not the knowledge of thy ways. Lest he say, depart from me, you shall never see my face. Number 2. Did Christ never make such a sad complaint and outcry till God hid His face from Him? Then the hiding of God's face is certainly the greatest misery that can possibly befall a gracious soul in this world. When they scourged, buffeted, and smote Christ, yea, when they nailed Him to the tree, He opened not His mouth. But when His Father hid His face from Him, He cried out. Yea, His voice was the voice of roaring. This was more to Him than a thousand crucifixions. And surely as it was to Christ, so it is to all gracious souls, the saddest stroke, the heaviest burden they ever felt. When David forbade Absalom to come to Jerusalem to see his father, he complained, Wherefore am I come from Jeshur? If I may not see the King's face. 2 Samuel 14.32 So doth the gracious soul bemoan itself. Wherefore am I redeemed, called, and reconciled, if I may not see the face of my God. It is said of Tully, when he was banished from Italy, and of Demosthenes, when he was banished from Athens, that they wept every time they looked towards their own country. And is it strange that a poor deserted believer should mourn every time he looks heavenward? Say, Christian, did the tears never trickle down thy cheeks when thou lookest towards heaven, and couldst not see the face of thy God as at other times? If two dear friends cannot part for a season, but that parting must be in a shower, blame not the saints if they sigh and mourn bitterly when the Lord, who is the life of their life, departs though but for a season. For if God depart, their sweetest enjoyment on earth, the very crown of all their comforts is gone. And what will a king take in exchange for his crown? What can recompense a saint for the loss of his God? Indeed, if they had never seen the Lord, or tasted the incomparable sweetness of his presence, it were another matter. But the darkness which follows the sweetest light of his countenance is double darkness. And that which doth not a little increase the horror of this darkness is, that when their souls are thus benighted, and the sun of their comfort is set, then doth Satan, like the wild beasts of the desert, creep out of his den, and roar upon them with hideous temptations. Surely this is a sad state and deserves tender pity. Pity is a debt due to the distressed, and the world shows not a greater distress than this. If ever you have been in trouble of this kind, you will never slight others in the same case. Nay, one end of God's exercising you with troubles of this nature is to teach you compassion towards others. Do they not cry to you, as Job 19.21, Have pity, have pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me. Draw forth bowels of mercy and tender compassion to them, for either you have been, or are, or may be in the same case. However, if men do not, most certainly Christ, who hath felt it before them and for them, will pity them. 3. Did God really forsake Jesus Christ upon the cross? Then from the desertion of Christ singular consolation springs up to the people of God, yea manifold consolation. Christ's desertion is the preventative of your final desertion. Because he was forsaken for a time, you shall not be forsaken for ever. For he was forsaken for you, and God's forsaking him, though but for a few hours, is equivalent to his forsaking you for ever. It is every way as much for the dear Son of God, the delight of his soul, to be forsaken of God for a time, as if such a poor, inconsiderable thing as thou art should be cast off to eternity. Now this being equivalent, and born in thy womb, must needs give thee the highest security in the world, that God will never finally withdraw from thee. Had he intended to have done so, Christ had never made such a sad outcry, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Moreover, this sad desertion of Christ becomes a comfortable pattern to poor deserted souls in diverse respects. And the proper business of such souls at such times is to eye it believingly in these six respects. Though God deserted Christ, yet at the same time he powerfully supported him. His omnipotent arms were under him, though his face was hid from him. He had not indeed his smiles, but he had his supports. So, Christian, just so shall it be with thee, thy God may turn away his face, but he will not pluck away his arms. Though God deserted Christ, yet he deserted not God. His father forsook him, but he could not forsake his father, but followed him with this cry, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? And is it not even so with you? God goes from your soul, but you cannot go from him. Know your heart is mourning after the Lord, seeking him carefully with tears, complaining of his absence as the greatest evil in this world. Though God forsook Christ, yet he returned to him again. It was but for a time, not for ever. In this also doth his desertion parallel yours. God may, for wise and holy reasons, hide his face from you, but not as it is hid from the damned, who shall never see it again. This cloud will pass away, this night shall have a bright morning. I will not contend for ever, neither will I be always wroth, for the Spirit shall fail before me and the souls which I have made. Though God forsook Christ, yet at that time he could justify God. O my God, saith he, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not, and in the night season, and am not silent, but thou art holy. Psalm 22 verses 2 and 3 Is not thy spirit according to its measure, framed like Christ in this? Canst thou not say, even when he writes bitter things against thee, he is a holy, faithful, and good God for all this? There is not one drop of injustice in all the sea of my sorrows. Though he condemn me, I must and will justify him. Though God took from Christ all visible and sensible comfort, inward as well as outward, yet Christ subsisted by faith in the absence of them all. His desertion put him upon the acting of his faith. My God, my God, are words of faith, the words of one that wholly depends upon his God, and is it not so with you? Sense of love is gone, sweet sights of God hide in a dark cloud. Well, what then? Must thy hands presently hang down, and thy soul give up all its hope? What, is there no faith to relieve in this case? Yes, and blessed be God for faith. Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay himself upon his God. Isaiah 50, verse 10 Christ was deserted a little before the glorious morning of light and joy dawned upon him. It was a little, a very little while, after this sad cry, before he triumphed gloriously. And so it may be with you. Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy and gladness will come in the morning. But reader, perhaps you are saying, I fear I am absolutely and finally forsaken. Why so? Do you find the characters of such a desertion upon your soul? Examine and tell me whether you find a heart willing to forsake God. Is it indifferent to you whether God ever return again? Is there no mourning, melting, or thirsting after the Lord? Indeed, if you forsake him, he will cast you off forever. But can you do so? O no, let him do what he will. I am resolved to wait for him, grieve to him, mourn after him, though I have no present comfort from him, no assurance of my interest in him. Yet will I not exchange my poor weak hope for all the good in this world. Again you say God hath forsaken you. But hath he taken away from your soul all conscientious tenderness of sin, so that now you can sin freely and without regret? If so, it is a sad token indeed. Tell me, soul, if thou indeed judgest God will never return in loving kindness to thee anymore. Why dost thou not then give thyself over to the pleasures of sin and draw thy comfort from the creature, since thou canst have no comfort from thy God? O no, I cannot do so. Even if I die in darkness and sorrow, I will never do so. My soul is as full of fear and hatred of sin as ever, though empty of joy and comfort. Surely these are not tokens of a soul finally abandoned by its God. 4. Did God forsake his own Son upon the cross? Then the dearest of God's people may, for a time, be forsaken of their God. Think it not strange when you, that are the children of light, meet with darkness, yea, and walk in it. Neither charge God foolishly, nor say he deal hardly with you. You see what befell Jesus Christ, whom his soul delighted in. It is doubtless your concern to expect and prepare for days of darkness. You have heard the doleful cry of Christ, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? You know how it was with Job, David, Asaph, and many others, the dear servants of God. What heart-melting lamentations they made upon this account. And are you better than they? O prepare for spiritual troubles. I am sure you do enough every day to involve you in darkness. Now if at any time this trial befall you, mind these two seasonable admonitions and lay them up for such a time. This Reformation audio track is a production of Stillwater's Revival Books. SWRB makes thousands of classic Reformation resources available, free and for sale, in audio, video, and printed formats. Our many free resources, as well as our complete mail-order catalog, containing thousands of classic and contemporary Puritan and Reform books, tapes, and videos at great discounts, is on the web at www.swrb.com. We can also be reached by email at swrb at swrb dot com, by phone at 780-450-3730, by fax at 780-468-1096, or by mail at 4710-37A, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, T6L3T5. You may also request a free printed catalog. And remember that John Kelvin, in defending the Reformation's regulative principle of worship, or what is sometimes called the scriptural law of worship, commenting on the words of God, which I commanded them not, neither came into my heart, from his commentary on Jeremiah 731, writes, God here cuts off from men every occasion for making evasions, since he condemns by this one phrase, I have not commanded them, whatever the Jews devised. There is then no other argument needed to condemn superstitions than that they are not commanded by God, for when men allow themselves to worship God according to their own fancies, and attend not to his commands, they pervert true religion. And if this principle was adopted by the Papists, all those fictitious modes of worship, in which they absurdly exercise themselves, would fall to the ground. It is indeed a horrible thing for the Papists to seek to discharge their duties towards God by performing their own superstitions. There is an immense number of them, as it is well known, and as it manifestly appears. Were they to admit this principle, that we cannot rightly worship God except by obeying his word, they would be delivered from their deep abyss of error. The prophet's words, then, are very important. When he says that God had commanded no such thing, and that it never came to his mind, as though he had said that men assume too much wisdom when they devise what he never required, nay, what he never knew.