10.07. Volume 7 cont'd
We have to fight The Christian’s daily experience is one of conflict. We have to fight against—besetting sins—the snares and temptations laid every moment for our feet—the daily unceasing influence of an ungodly world—the very things that our carnal heart most fondly loves—the workings and arguments of our natural mind. All these things we have to fight against, and to resist even unto blood, striving against sin. A sanctifying influence
Whenever the word of truth comes home with power to the heart, it carries with it a sanctifying influence. It draws the affections upwards—it fixes the heart upon heavenly things—Jesus is viewed by the eye of faith, and every tender desire of a loving bosom flows forth toward Him as "the chief among ten thousand and the altogether lovely One." This view of Christ, as the King in His beauty, has a sanctifying influence upon the soul—communicating holy and heavenly feelings—subduing the power of sin—separating from the world and worldly objects—and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. Thus Faith clasps to her bosom these glorious and heavenly truths, and says, "How suitable are they to all my sins and sorrows—how they distill consolation into my burdened spirit—how adapted they are to every season of darkness and distress!"
We are troubled on every side "Yet man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward." Job 5:7
Since the fall, trouble is the lot of every man. If there never had been sin, there never would have been sorrow. There is, therefore, nothing strange or peculiar that the children of God should be troubled—for that they have in common with their fellow sinners and fellow mortals. Poverty, bereavements, sickness, vexation, disappointment, misery, wretchedness, and death—are the common lot of all—from the wailing child to the aged father. Thus look where you will, let your eye range through every class of society, from the prince’s palace to the pauper’s hovel—you cannot find any one of the sons of men who can claim exemption from troubles. They gather round his head, like clouds on a mountaintop, under some form of—disappointed hopes—blighted expectations—family troubles—painful bereavements—or bodily afflictions.
"We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair." Here, then, is the distinguishing blessing of those into whose hearts God has shone—that though trouble may be on every side, yet it never will be with them as with those who have no Father to bless them with His Fatherly love—no Savior to bedew them with His atoning blood—and no blessed Spirit to comfort them with His choice consolations.
Delivered!
"Who has delivered us from the power of darkness, and has translated us into the kingdom of His dear Son." Colossians 1:13 By nature and practice we are slaves to sin and Satan. We are the sport of the Prince of the power of the air, who takes us captive at his will. We are also held down by many hurtful lusts; or, if free from gross sin, are slaves to pride, covetousness, or self-righteousness. Perhaps some idol is set up in the chambers of imagery, which defiles all the inner man—or some snare of Satan entangles our feet, and we are slaves to sin, without power to liberate ourselves from this cruel slavery. We groan under it, as the children of Israel under their burdens, but, like them, cannot deliver ourselves.
Some of the privileges of sonship A daily cross—a path of trial and tribulation—a chastening rod for going astray—a furnace of affliction, purging away the dross and tin—producing true humility of mind—brokenness of heart—contrition of spirit—tenderness of conscience—with much self-loathing—self-abhorrence—godly sorrow for sin—and earnest desires for close and holy communion with God. These are some of the privileges of sonship, not indeed much prized or coveted by the professors of our day—but blessed marks of a heavenly birth. A heavenly religion
True religion is a heavenly religion. It comes down from God—and ascends up to God. Do not be deceived! Do not think that a mere external religion or a profession of the truth will ever save you—without an experience of its life and power. Until the eyes of our understanding are spiritually enlightened, and our heart touched by regenerating grace, we see, we know, we feel nothing savingly or experimentally of the power of God in the salvation of the soul. We may be religious—very religious; serious—extremely serious; pious—decidedly pious. We may attend church or go to chapel—receive the sacrament or sit down to the ordinance—say our prayers—read the Scriptures and good books—and comparing our religious life with the profane conduct of many by whom we are surrounded, may please ourselves with the deceptive illusion that we are recommending ourselves to the favor of God—and when death shall close the scene, shall be rewarded with eternal life. And yet all this time we may be as destitute of the power of God in saving the soul, as ignorant of law and gospel, of condemnation or salvation, of what we are as sinners or who the Lord Jesus is, as the very beasts which perish.
True religion must be wrought in the soul by the power of God. The grace that wrote our names in the Lamb’s book of life, is the same grace that—quickens our soul into spiritual life—convinces us of sin—gives us repentance—brings us to the foot of the cross—reveals in us a precious Savior—and raises up a faith and hope and love which both save and sanctify us unto eternal life. Thus we are not saved by anything of a religious nature which we can communicate to ourselves, or others communicate to us—but we are saved by the grace of God, and by the grace of God alone!
If, then, that grace never visits our heart with its regenerating power and its sanctifying influences, we may have all the religion that the flesh can be possessed of—and yet die under the wrath of God and have our portion with the damned. An earthly religion may content a Pharisee. A carnal, formal worship may satisfy a dead professor. But it is living union with a living Lord, and receiving communications out of His fullness which alone can satisfy a living soul. A dead professor is satisfied with—an earthly religion—a round of forms—external ordinances—the flattering applause of dying creatures like himself. But the child of God, in whose heart the Spirit dwells and whom He teaches by His own heavenly grace, is from time to time looking up unto Jesus to receive out of His fullness. Into the bosom of Christ he pours out his sorrows—from that bosom he receives his joys.
We are not to set our affections on them "Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth." Colossians 3:2
Naturally we have no affection for anything else. There is no such thing as a spiritual desire or a heavenly affection in our soul when we are in a state of unregeneracy. So fallen are we that we love—and cannot but love the world, and the things of the world. We have no heart for anything but the things of time and sense—no, rather, as our carnal mind is enmity against God, we hate everything which is spiritual, heavenly, and holy. One main part, therefore, of the work of God upon the soul is to take off our affections from these earthly things, and to fix them upon Jesus where He sits enthroned above—that we may love and hate those things which He loves and hates. Our affections are not to be set upon things on the earth. Business, worldly cares, the interests of our family, the things of time and sense—in whatever form they come—whatever shape they may assume—must not so entwine themselves round our affections as to bind them down to the earth. We may use them for the support and sustentation of our life—but we must not abuse them. We are not to set our affections on them! Houses, gardens, land, property, friends, family—all these earthly things—we are not to set our affections on them, so that they become idols. Thus any lovely object may be foul—because turned to an idol. It may be but a flower—and yet be an idol. It may be a darling child whom everybody admires for its beauty and attractiveness—yet it may be a defiling idol. A cherished project may be an idol. A crop of wheat—a flock of sheep—a good farm—a thriving business—respect of the world—may all be defiling idols—for all these things, when eagerly pursued and loved, draw the soul away from God, and by drawing it insensibly from Him, bring pollution and guilt into the conscience. Now we are, or by grace in due time shall be, weaned and divorced from earth with all its charms and pleasures and all its polluting idols. "Little children, keep yourselves from idols. " 1 John 5:21 Defiled, loathsome & abominable
Sin has defiled us individually, and personally made us loathsome and abominable to God. Sin had brought us under the stroke of God’s justice, opened to us the door of hell, and shut against us the gate of heaven. Sin also, as a polluted thing, has contaminated us from head to foot—clothed us in filthy garments, so as to render us unclean in body and soul, and, as such, unfit to enter into the pure courts of heavenly bliss. This one point of divine truth on which the Scriptures are very express and plain, and yet is most stoutly resisted by the pride and self-righteousness of man’s heart—the completeness of the fall. This truth is unpalatable to man’s self-righteous nature. How few are willing to admit that man is in such a state as the word of God describes him to be—"dead in trespasses and sins;" "alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in him, because of the blindness of his heart;" "serving diverse lusts and pleasures;" "living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one another," "having no hope, and without God in the world." And yet these unquestionable and express declarations of Scripture are so opposed to that natural principle which exists in all of us, that we think we are not so thoroughly helpless as not to be able to do something to please God and obtain salvation. When this truth contained is brought forth and enforced—then it is that the enmity manifests itself. He hates God’s Word, because it condemns him—and he knows if he were to live under its power and influence he must give up those practices which that Word condemns.
Deepest enmity of the profane & professing world When the Lord is pleased first to deal with our soul, in those early days of our spiritual youth when we are but little acquainted with the evils of our own heart, or the evils that lodge in other men’s—we are often astonished at the sudden burst of persecution that arises against us from most unexpected quarters—and frequently from some of our nearest and dearest friends and relatives. In those days, eternal realities usually lie with great weight and power upon our mind—they occupy our waking and sleeping thoughts; and the whole subject being new, it takes fast hold both of heart and tongue—for we cannot be silent, and as we are made honest and sincere we speak as we feel. The things of eternity pressing with serious and solemn weight upon our hearts, press words out of our mouth—we at the time little anticipating the effect which those words produce upon the minds of those to whom they are addressed.
What is that effect? What we little expect—enmity! We anticipate some conviction of the truth which we lay before them, or, at least, some kind and favorable reception of it. We speak it honestly and sincerely, meaning it for their good—but instead of receiving it as we intended, they rise up in enmity and rebellion against us.
Why is this? Because their carnal mind, and they can have no other, is enmity against God. A veil, too, of unbelief and ignorance is spread over their heart, so that our meaning is misunderstood—our actions misrepresented—and our kindest words and intentions perverted to evil. The servants of God are especially liable to the manifestation of this enmity. The gospel they preach—the faithfulness they manifest—the holiness they display—the separating line which they draw when "they take forth the precious from the vile"—stir up the deepest enmity of the profane and professing world. No condemnation "There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1
Though I am not living in sin, I cannot live without sin. I have—sinful thoughts—sinful imaginations—sinful desires—sinful passions—and very sinful feelings. I cannot—look without sin—nor speak without sin—nor hear without sin—no, nor can I preach without sin. But if so, how can it be true that there is "no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus?" Why, because if I am in Christ Jesus, I am loved in Christ Jesus—I am chosen in Christ Jesus—I am justified in Christ Jesus—I am pardoned in Christ Jesus—and I am saved in Christ Jesus. If, therefore, my conscience condemns me, God is greater than my heart and knows all things. So that though I have the daily condemnation of a guilty conscience, yet if all my sins are washed away by the blood of the Lamb and my conscience is purified from guilt and filth by the blood of sprinkling, I shall not be condemned at the great day—and even now, so far as the power of that blood is felt, I am free from all condemnation.
Sin will lurk & work As long as we carry about with us a body of sin and death, a nature corrupt to the very core, sin will lurk and work in our bosom; and if we have a conscience made tender in God’s fear, it will condemn us for the evils which thus daily and hourly manifest themselves; which may indeed be resisted and subdued, but are never eradicated.
What has enabled you to continue up to this day?
"Having therefore obtained the help that is from God, I continue to this day." Acts 26:22
It may be many years since the Lord first called you by His grace. What has enabled you to continue up to this day? How has your faith been preserved amid—so many temptations and trials—so much internal and external opposition—so many fightings without—so many fears within? You well know that it is not by your own exertions, your own striving—but by the pure grace of God that you still stand. "Having therefore obtained help of God, I continue unto this day" was Paul’s language, and will be the language of all who have his faith and his continuance. No reconciliation or regeneration in the grave
We come into the world alienated from God’s image, for we lost it in the fall; we grow up still more and more alienated from it, and if we die thus alienated, what must that end be but eternal destruction from the presence of His glory? for there is no reconciliation or regeneration in the grave. There is no possibility of coming into a state of friendship with God when the breath has left the body. As the tree falls, so it lies. If we die alienated from God, we die under the wrath of God.
How utterly ruined, then, how wholly lost must that man’s state and case be who lives and dies as he comes into the world—unchanged, unrenewed, unregenerated! To poison the soul To poison the soul is no less criminal or dangerous—than to poison the body! This simple, this single, this sincere desire "Draw me—and I will run after You! Let the King bring me into His chambers." Song of Solomon 1:4
There was raised up in the heart of the Bride this simple, this single, this sincere desire to follow Jesus wherever He goes—and that is the mark of a true follower of the Lamb. Through the flood, through the fire—through the wilderness—through the darkness—through temptation—through tribulation—through conflict—wherever the Lamb leads, His people follow. He is their Head, He is their Guide, He is their Lord, He is their Husband, He is their King—and Him they follow, Him they run after, and in His footsteps they desire to walk. Thus the Bride, under the blessed operations of the Holy Spirit, and from a simple, sincere, single breathing forth of love and affection to Jesus, as being perfectly suitable, and altogether lovely says, Draw me—and I will run after You!
O how cruel!
"Cruel as the grave." Song of Solomon 8:6
O how cruel the grave is, has been, and ever will be, as long as there is a grave left on earth to swallow up in its devouring throat the remains of a fondly loved object of affection! O how cruel the grave seems to be that swallows up the beloved husband or the fond, affectionate wife—or the blooming daughter in the flower of youth and beauty—or the brave, manly son in the very prime and vigor of life. O how cruel the grave that often separates lovers when perhaps the wedding day has been fixed. All is fond anticipation, but death comes—the cruel grave opens its mouth, and the intended bride or bridegroom is stretched in that gloomy abode. O how cruel the grave is—sparing no age or sex—pitying no relationship—divorcing the tenderest ties—and triumphing over all the claims of human affection. My grace is sufficient "My grace is sufficient for you: for My strength is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:9 This grace the Lord puts forth in communicating secret supplies of strength. As, then, the grace of the Lord in the season of trial and temptation is found to be sufficient, it gives the soul a firm standing-place, a holy rest—and an all-sustaining prop for weakness to lean upon. And this grace of the Lord is thus given under trial and temptation—it is found to be sufficient—but not more than sufficient—enough but nothing to spare. No child of God will ever have too much grace. He will have enough to supply his need—enough to save and sanctify him—enough to support him under his afflictions—enough to make him live honorably and die happily, but not more than enough. As your days so shall your strength be.
Why are you now where and what you are? Who held you up in the trying hour? Who preserved you when your feet were almost gone, when your steps had nearly slipped? What but His grace?
Eternal life
Eternal life is a very sweet subject to a believer. The prospect of an eternity of bliss in the presence of God, where tears are wiped away from all faces, is a blessed consolation to the believing heart. When we think of what this life is, how short, how uncertain—when we feel burdened with its cares and troubled with its anxieties, and, above all, are loaded and weighted with a miserable body of sin and death—is it not enough to make us sigh and say, "What is there in this life really worth living for?" But to look beyond the narrow isthmus of this wretched, dying world—to those eternal mansions in his Father’s house which Jesus has gone to prepare for His people, seems to console the weary pilgrim as he travels through this valley of tears, burdened with sin and sorrow, in the sweet hope of reaching at last that heavenly shore! Shall we then go back
"From that time many of His disciples went back, and walked no more with Him. Then said Jesus to the twelve, Will you also go away?" John 6:66-67 Shall we then go back to the WORLD? Have we not had enough of that? Were we not in it before the Lord was pleased to call us out of it by His grace? Was there any true happiness there—any real satisfaction, contentment, rest, peace, or quiet? Well may we answer, "No!" Even then, it was but one continued scene of—harassing turmoil—vain amusement—empty pleasure—the end of which we knew would be death. When we were in it there was no real happiness—and will there be happiness now when we have come out of it, to go back to it? Take it now at its best or at its worst. Do you find any comfort in worldly company, any happiness in carnal society? Do its maxims suit you, its customs, its pleasures, its vanities? Do you get any happiness from them? No! Then must you not at once reply, "Whatever I do, whatever becomes of me, I cannot go back into the world, because when I was in it I had no comfort from it, and to go back now would be but to redouble my misery and ensure my utter ruin." But shall we go back to SIN? O, perish the thought! What! sin that was the cause of such guilt upon your conscience in times past! Sin that brought such a very hell into your soul! Sin that crucified a dear Redeemer! To go back to sin—to wallow in the base lusts of the flesh—to drink down iniquity—to work all uncleanness with greediness—and to spend health, strength, and life itself in those things the end of which we know is certain destruction—O, how can we for a single moment dare to entertain the thought that we can leave a holy Jesus, a heavenly Redeemer, the sweet company of God’s family, the sacred communion with the Lord Himself—to wallow in sin, and thus to bring a certain hell into our conscience, death into our soul, and the dreadful end of all our profession to be banishment from the presence of the Lord into the blackness of darkness forever!
O Lord, whatever we do, wherever we go—we never can go back to sin! Lord, "to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!"
Only two grand classes With all the social distinctions that exist in the world, of rank, class, and station, there are really in the sight of God only two grand classes. The righteous and the wicked—the godly and the ungodly—the saint and the sinner—the wheat and the tares—those who are Christ’s, and those who are the wicked one’s.
We need a high priest
"For we don’t have a high priest who can’t be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." Hebrews 4:15
"We have such a high priest, who sat down on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens." Hebrews 8:1
We need a high priest, not merely one who offered a sacrifice upon the cross—not merely one who died and rose again—but one who now lives at the right hand of God on our behalf—and one with a tender, merciful, and compassionate heart, with whom we can carry on from time to time sacred communion—whom we can view with believing eyes as suitable to our case, and compassionating our wants and woes—in whom we can hope with expecting hearts, as one who will not turn away from us—and whom we can love, not only for His intrinsic beauty and blessedness, but as full of pity towards us.
We need a friend at the right hand of God at the present moment—an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, and yet a compassionate and loving Mediator between God and us—an interceding High Priest, Surety, and Representative in our nature in the courts of heaven, who can show mercy and compassion to us now upon earth—whose heart is touched with tenderness—whose affections melt with love! Our needs make us feel this. Our sins and sorrows give us perpetual errands to the throne. This valley of tears is ever before our eyes, and thorns and briars are perpetually springing up in it that rip and tear our flesh. We need a real friend. Have you not sometimes tossed to and fro upon your weary couch, and almost cried aloud, "O that I had a friend!" You may have received bitter blows from one whom you regarded as a real friend—and you have been cruelly deceived. You feel now you have no one to take care of you or love you, and whom you can love in return—and your heart sighs for a friend who shall be a friend indeed. The widow, the orphan, the friendless, the deserted one, all keenly and deeply feel this. But if grace has touched your heart, you feel that though all men forsake you, there is the friend of sinners—a brother born for adversity—a friend who loves at all times—who will never leave or forsake you. And how it cheers the troubled mind and supports the weary spirit to feel that there is a friend to whom we may go—whose eyes are ever open to see—whose ears are ever unclosed to hear—whose heart is ever touched with a feeling of pity and compassion towards us! But we need this friend to be almighty, for no other can suit our case—he must be a divine friend. For who but God can see us wherever we are? What but a divine eye can read our thoughts? What but a divine ear can hear our petitions? And what but a divine hand can stretch itself forth and deliver? Thus the Deity of Christ is no dry, barren speculation—no mere Bible truth—but an experience wrought powerfully into a believer’s inmost soul. Happy soul! happy season! when you can say, "This is my Beloved—and this is my Friend!" Thus the very desires of the soul instinctively teach us that a friend, to be a friend, must be a heavenly friend—that His heart and hand must be divine—or they are not the heart and hand for us. This friend, whose bitterest reproach on earth was that He was the friend of sinners—is the blessed Jesus, our great high priest in the courts above. We find Him at times to be very merciful, full of pity, and very compassionate. And I am sure that we need all the compassion of His loving bosom; for we are continually in states of mind when nothing but His pure mercy can suit, when nothing but His rich and boundless compassion is adapted to our case. The consequences of death "Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment." Hebrews 9:27
Gloom must dwell in "the valley of the shadow of death." When we consider what death really is—not merely as putting a final close, and that, perhaps, with a pang of mortal agony, to all that nature loves, but an opening gate into endless woe—our wonder is rather that men meet it with such stoical insensibility, instead of being more alarmed and terrified at its approach. But what is death? Is it merely what we see with our bodily eyes when we view the corpse stretched upon the bed—or as we represent it to our imagination when we follow the coffin to the cemetery? Does death merely mean that pale corpse, that funeral hearse, those weeping mourners, those gasping sobs of wife or husband, with all the sights and sounds of woe as the heavy clods, amid the still silence, fall on the coffin? To most this is all they see or know of death. But death, in a scriptural sense, has a far wider and more extensive meaning than these mere outward trappings of sorrow.
It is not then so much death as the consequences of death, that makes it—to be so truly dreadful—to be the king of terrors—and invests it with that terrible visage which strikes gloom—to be cast into the lake of fire—to be forever under the dreadful wrath of God—to be eternally wallowing in the billows of sulphurous flame—to be shut up in that dreadful pit into which hope never penetrates.
Why should death be an object of fear? Because after death comes the judgment! And why should judgment be an object of terror? Because judgment implies condemnation, and condemnation implies an eternity of woe!
Errors abound on every side
Errors abound on every side. Few know and love the truth—few ministers preach it—few churches profess it—and few, very few, live under the power and in the practice of it.
Give! Give!
"The leach has two daughters, crying, Give, give." Proverbs 30:15
Such is the world in its cravings for happiness. All the bounties of God in His kind providence cannot enrich the worldly heart. The craving desires of the carnal mind are like the two daughters of the leech, which are ever crying, "Give! Give!"
"Give! Give!" cries covetousness. "Give! Give!" cries pride. "Give! Give!" cries every carnal desire of the earthly mind as its various lusts and passions are stirred up. But could all be given that sin could lust after, the result would be still the same, "Give! Give!"
Sin is like a drunkard, who the more he drinks the more he wants to drink—ever craving—ever craving stronger and stronger drink, as if nothing but drink could cool his parched tongue or boost his sinking spirits. And so he drinks until he dies—a poor miserable, drunken suicide. Such is the natural heart of man!
Holy longings & spiritual breathings
"O God, You are my God; early will I seek You: my soul thirsts for You, my flesh longs for You in a dry and thirsty land, where there is no water." Psalms 63:1 Do carnal, unregenerate men know anything of these holy longings and spiritual breathings after an invisible God—or after a manifestation of the love of Christ? Depend upon this, that no unregenerated man ever longed truly and really for God. He might desire to have his sins pardoned—under the convictions and stingings of his natural conscience. He might even wish to go to heaven—that he might escape hell. But he never desired God for what He is in Himself. God is too pure and holy, too great and glorious a Being for a natural heart to love—or a carnal mind to desire. Every unregenerate sinner says unto God, "Depart from us; for we desire not the knowledge of Your ways!"
There must be a new nature raised up in the soul, a new heart and a new spirit, before God can be desired for His own sake. If you have similar longings, seekings, and thirstings, you have an indubitable evidence that God has done a work of grace upon your heart. If a man knows nothing of the power of God in his soul, he can know nothing of true religion or vital godliness. The scale!
"For what will it profit a man, if he will gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" Matthew 16:26
Put your soul in one side of the scale—and put all that the world calls good and great in the other side. Think of everything that the heart of man can desire—riches, honor, pleasure, power. Heap it up well! Fill one side of the scale until there is no room for more. Put in—all the gold of Australia—all the diamonds of India—all the delights of youthful love—all the pleasures of wife and home—of children and friends, of health and strength, of name and fame. Put in all that the natural mind of man deems the height of happiness, and everything that may weigh this side of the scale down.
Now, when you have filled this side of the scale, put your soul into the other side—the state of your soul for all eternity. Represent to yourself your deathbed—hold the scale with dying hands as lying just at the brink of eternity. See how the scale now hangs! What if you had the whole world that you have put into the scale, and could call it all your own—but at that solemn hour felt that your soul was forever lost—that you were dying under the wrath of God—and there was nothing before you but an eternity of misery! At such a moment as this, what could you put in the scale equal to the weight of your immortal soul?
Take the scale again. Put into one side, every affliction, trial, sorrow, and distress that imagination can conceive, or tongue express. Let them all be yours—distress of mind—pain of body—poverty of circumstances—contempt from man—assaults from Satan—Job’s afflictions—Jacob’s bereavements—David’s persecutions—Jeremiah’s prison—Hezekiah’s sickness. Put into this side of the scale everything that makes life naturally miserable—and then put into the other side, a saved soul.
Surely, as in the case of worldly honors, and riches, and happiness—a lost soul must weigh them all down! So in the case of afflictions and sorrows and troubles—a saved soul must weigh them all down too! When Jesus manifests Himself to the soul When Jesus manifests Himself to the soul, He becomes its Lord—for He puts down all other rivals, and seats Himself on the throne of the affections. He then becomes in reality what before He was but in name—Christ Jesus our Lord. We then lie at His sacred feet—we embrace Him with the arms of faith—He sways the scepter over a willing heart, and we crown Him Lord of all. A few minutes sweet communion
"For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, has shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." 2 Corinthians 4:6
You may have read the Bible from childhood, and may know it almost by heart from end to end. You may be able to read the Hebrew text, and understand the Greek original. You may study commentator after commentator. And yet all your reading, and all your searching after the meaning of the Scripture, if continued until your eyes are worn out with fatigue, will never give you that spiritual and saving knowledge of the Person and work, grace and glory of the Lord Jesus which one five minutes of His manifested presence will discover to your soul. The light of His countenance, the shining in of His glory, and the shedding abroad of His love, will teach you more, in a few minutes sweet communion, who and what He is as the King in His beauty, than without this manifestation you could learn in a century.
What grace!
"However, what things were gain to me, these have I counted loss for Christ. Yes most assuredly, and I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord, for whom I suffered the loss of all things, and count them nothing but refuse, that I may gain Christ." Php 3:7-8
Oh what grace must be in your hearts to enable you to renounce what the world so madly pursues and what your own nature so fondly loves! To see all these earthly delights spread, as if in a panorama, before your eyes—the pleasures, the amusements, the show and finery of the world presented to you—to carry within you a nature which loves and delights in them—and yet, by the power of grace and the teaching of the Holy Spirit, to regard them as far beneath your notice, as contemptible, and as polluting as the refuse in the street, over which you step in haste lest you defile your shoes or clothes—Oh what a deep and vital sense must the soul have of the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus its Lord, and what a view by faith of His beauty and glory to bring it to that state—to count all that earth can give or contribute to individual enjoyment as rubbish and dross!
There is no purgatory
There is no middle path to heaven. There is no intermediate state between hell and heaven. There is no purgatory for that numerous class who think themselves hardly good enough for heaven, yet hardly bad enough for hell. No! There is no intermediate road nor state. We must win Christ as our own most blessed Jesus, and with Him enjoy the happiness and glory of heaven—or sink down to hell with all our sins upon our head beneath His most dreadful frown. The soul then that has been charmed with the beauty and blessedness of Jesus, longs to have Him, and that not for a day, month, or year, but for eternity—for in obtaining Him, it obtains all that God can give the soul of man to enjoy as created immortal and for immortality. A miracle of grace
Every saved sinner is a miracle of grace. The Lord will make every vessel of mercy know, feel, and acknowledge this—for He will give him from time to time such deep discoveries of his sin, as will convince him beyond all question that nothing but the rich, sovereign, distinguishing, and superabounding grace of God can save his soul from the bottomless pit!
Strength in the time of trouble
"But the salvation of the righteous is of the Lord: He is their strength in the time of trouble." Psalms 37:39 The afflictions of the righteous are many. We can lay down no certain path of suffering. You may be called upon to pass through heavy trials in providence—bereavements of wife or child, or painful and peculiar family troubles, which may wound and lacerate your warmest affections and tenderest feelings. All the family of God have their allotted number and measure of griefs and sorrows, which, as they come upon them, form "times of trouble" which, with all our other times, are in the hands of the Lord—and are dealt out by Him with unerring wisdom and most faithful love. The Lord ’strengthens’ His children by enabling them to bear the weighty cross—to sustain the heavy load of trial and affliction—to put their mouth in the dust as needing and deserving His chastising strokes, and to submit to His righteous dispensations and dealings as plainly sent by a gracious and loving hand. We walk by faith, not by sight. It must be a naked trust in an invisible God.
Heaven would be no heaven to you
Suppose you were taken to heaven, having no new heart—no inward element of holiness breathed into your soul by the Spirit of God. In such a case, heaven would be no heaven to you. You would want to get out of it—the presence of a holy God would appall you—the saints in bliss singing the praises of the Lamb would be so foreign to your every feeling, that you would say, "Send me to hell, for I have no heart to enjoy heaven. Let me go to hell, where I can curse and blaspheme, hate and howl. Hell, hell is the only fit place for me."
What would have been our gloomy case
"Who has delivered us from the power of darkness, and has translated us into the kingdom of His dear Son." Colossians 1:13
None but the Holy Spirit, by His Almighty power, can thus take a poor sinner in all his guilt and filth, rags and ruin—in all his condemnation, misery, and wretchedness—and by applying the word of His grace with power to his soul, by sending a sweet promise home to his heart, by revealing Christ in His blood and righteousness, and shedding abroad His love—can bring him feelingly and experimentally into His kingdom. And this God is doing, has done, or will do for all who are really and truly His. No strength of the creature, no arm of the flesh can avail here. Mercy and grace do it all. Love and power combine, and reaching down, as it were, their arms from heaven, lift up the sinner from the power of darkness and bring him into the kingdom of light, and life, and liberty, where Jesus is all in all.
What would have been our gloomy case, even as regards this present world, and what would have been our still more gloomy case as regards our eternal condition—if God had not stretched forth His hand to rescue us from the power of darkness? We would have lived under the power of darkness, until we had sunk into the blackness of darkness forever! We would have loved and hugged and been proud of our darkness—and have fallen, as thousands fall, self-deceived and miserable victims to the ignorance, pride, and self-righteousness of our fallen nature! But God was determined to break in upon our benighted souls—and when He broke in, darkness fled. And thus the Lord was pleased to rescue us from the dominion of darkness and bring us into the kingdom of His dear Son. And shall we not render thanks and praises, and adore His blessed Majesty for these acts of His grace, these manifestations of His mercy, goodness, and love?