10.08. Volume 8 cont'd
The joy of his heart & the theme of his tongue
Paul preached a free-grace gospel. The sovereign, free, superabounding grace of God, as revealed in the Person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ, was the joy of his heart and the theme of his tongue. And against nothing did the holy zeal that burned in his bosom flame forth more vehemently than against any perversion or adulteration of this pure gospel. It was with this gospel in his heart, and with this gospel in his mouth, that he went forth into different places, as he was led by the blessed Spirit, preaching Jesus Christ and salvation through His blood and righteousness. God owned his testimony—the Holy Spirit accompanied the word with divine power—and many Gentile sinners, formerly worshipers of idols, and abandoned to every lust—were brought to repentance toward God and faith toward the Lord Jesus Christ.
He is a poor man "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3 This spiritual poverty no man possesses by nature. But like the Laodicean church, every man thinks himself rich and increased in goods, and in need of nothing. But when God teaches him that he is "wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," then he is brought to feel himself really poor—that is, completely empty, totally destitute of all that deserves the name of riches. For he now learns that in God’s account nothing deserves the name of riches but that which makes a soul rich for eternity—the treasures that are in Christ for the poor and needy—and that he who is not possessed of these riches, in God’s sight is nothing, and has nothing but poverty and rags.
As, then, the Lord the Spirit works upon a sinner’s conscience, He—opens up to him his evil heart—shows him his exceeding transgressions—lays bare the depths of iniquity that are in his corrupt nature—discovers to him what God requires in His holy law—and thus makes him feel how completely empty and destitute he is by nature of all good. Now, when a man is brought to see himself a poor, vile, lost, undone wretch, having nothing, and being nothing but a mass of filth and corruption, completely destitute of everything that God can look down upon with acceptance—he comes under the expression in the text—he is a poor man spiritually. He is now brought down—he is effectually laid low—he is made to feel real poverty of spirit before God. Be merciful to me "Look upon me, and be merciful to me." Psalms 119:132
Wherever there is any true love to the Lord—wherever there is any breathing of affection after Jesus—there always will be mixed with it, the deepest sense of our own undeservedness, weakness, worthlessness, and wickedness.
Pity & power
"Like a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him. For He knows how we are made. He remembers that we are dust." Psalms 103:13-14
God looks upon His people in pity. He looks down upon all His poor, laboring, struggling pilgrims here below—and views them with an eye of pity and compassion—out of His merciful and compassionate heart. The Lord looks upon His people with all the love and affection that dwells in His bosom. His love is perpetually flowing forth to the objects of His love, choice, and mercy.
We know something of this naturally. Does not the fond wife look sometimes upon her husband with eyes of tender affection? Does not the mother sometimes look upon her infant, lying in the cradle or sleeping in her lap, with eyes of tender love? So it is with God. There is that love in the bosom of God towards the objects of His eternal favor, that when He looks down upon them from the heights of His sanctuary, He looks upon them with the tenderest affection. The God of heaven looks down upon His poor, tried family. Some He sees buffeted with sore temptations. Others, he sees plagued with an evil heart of unbelief. Others, he sees afflicted in circumstances. Others, wading amid deep temporal and providential trials. Others, mourning His absence. Others persecuted, cast out by men. Each heart knows its own bitterness, each has a tender spot that the eye of the Lord sees. And the Lord, as a God of grace, looks down upon them and pities them. When He sees them entangled in a snare—He pities them as being so entangled. When He sees them drawn aside by the idolatry and evil of their fallen nature—He pities them as wandering. When He views them assaulted and harassed by Satan—He looks upon them with compassion under his attacks.
Besides that, He looks down upon them in power—with a determination to render them help. The Lord has not only a mother’s pity and a wife’s love—but He has almighty power to relieve His poor suffering children, toiling and struggling through this vast howling wilderness. The Lord is merciful to His people. He knew—the painful experience—what hearts they carry in their bosoms—what temptations beset their path—what snares Satan is laying for their feet—their weakness—their wickedness. Yet how merciful He is to them—how He bears with their evil behavior in the wilderness—how He multiplies pardons—how He forgives their iniquities—how He blots out their sins—how He shows mercy and compassion upon those who were by nature the vilest of the vile!
God’s teachings "Show me Your ways, O Lord. Teach me Your paths. Guide me in Your truth, and teach me." Psalms 25:4-5 In the spirit of childlike simplicity the Psalmist wanted God to be his teacher—for indeed none teaches like Him. All other teaching leaves us where it found us. I dare say from hearing me so often you have gained some instruction, some knowledge of doctrine or experience whereby your judgment has been informed. But all this you may have gained—and yet not have been taught of God. You may have gathered information or instruction from my lips, and become established in a sound creed—and yet not have been led into the truth of God by the Holy Spirit—nor been taught by Him who is the only wise Teacher. All teaching of man, severed from the teaching of God, is profitless and valueless. It gives no faith or repentance—does not make sin hateful—or Christ precious. It leaves us just where it found us—carnal, worldly, proud, covetous, self-righteous—in all our sin, filth, and guilt—destitute of that operation of God in the soul. But God’s teachings humble, soften, melt, comfort, bless, and save.
Nothing but the power of God
Nothing but the power of God is able to bring a soul so completely out of the shell and crust of self-righteousness—and so to lay open its spiritual nakedness before Him. Whenever we see such a coming out of self—such a renunciation of our own wisdom, strength, and righteousness—such a putting aside of all creature religion—and such a real spirit of humility before God—we must receive it as something beyond and above nature.
Carried away by sin A child of God who has been carried away by sin, (I do not mean open, flagrant acts), but the daily workings of his heart—will go to the Lord sometimes with many sighs and tears, earnestly entreating Him that He would save him from the power of sin by putting His fear into his heart, and by making his conscience tender. And this the Lord answers sometimes by breathing a secret power into the soul, whereby He keeps the feet back from evil—sometimes by breaking down a temptation, so as to make it no longer a temptation—sometimes restraining him by His providence—and sometimes holding him back by His grace.
O how cruelly has sin reigned in the heart of man
How sin reigns in every worldly bosom! What little check is put upon thoughts or words or works, of whatever kind they be, by natural conscience. Or if it speaks, what little heed is paid to its voice! Whatever sin bids natural men do—they do it eagerly. Sin leads them captive at its will. They have no will of their own—but obey eagerly, obey submissively—whatever sin commands. Sin has but to issue the word, and they do what it bids. Sin has but to lead—and they follow in the path where it guides. Sin has but to show itself as king—and all knees bow before it. All hands are active to do its behests, and every foot is obedient to move in the directed path. O how cruelly has sin reigned in the heart of man! Hurrying him on to every vile abomination—plunging him into every depth of misery and crime—and then hurling him impenitent and unbelieving into an abyss of endless misery!
One of the greatest troubles a child of God can have A backsliding heart and an idolatrous nature is one of the greatest troubles a child of God can have. All his worldly trials, heavy as they may be—are light compared to this. That he should daily, and sometimes hourly, seek pleasure and gratification in the things of time and sense; and should perpetually turn away from all spiritual and heavenly things—gives him more trouble than all his other trials put together. But what good comes out of all this soul exercise? What spiritual profit springs from a sense of our diseased nature and depraved appetite? Such need the Physician! And the deeper they sink into soul sickness, and the more sensible they are of the plague of their hearts—the more do they prize and want to realize the healing remedies which this great and good Physician has to bestow.
Wherever we go, wherever we turn our eyes "But where sin abounded, grace did abound much more exceedingly." Romans 5:20
Wherever we go, wherever we turn our eyes, two objects meet our view—sin and misery. There is not a town—nor a village—nor a house—nor a family—no, nor a human heart—in which these two inseparable companions are not to be found. Sin the fountain—misery the stream. Sin the cause—misery the effect. Sin the parent—misery the offspring. But a question may arise, "How did sin and misery come into this world? What was the origin of sin?" That is a question I cannot answer. The origin of evil is a problem hidden from the eyes of man—and is probably unfathomable by human intellect. It is sufficient for us to know that sin is.
When, then, the deep-seated malady of sin is opened up to our view, and we begin to feel that there is no soundness in us, and nothing but wounds and bruises and putrefying sores—then arises the anxious inquiry, "Is there a cure?" Now, through God’s unspeakable mercy, I can assure you, from His word and in His name—that there is a cure for the malady of sin—and that there is a remedy for the misery and distress which are the sure consequences of it! Yes, there is balm in Gilead—there is a physician there! There is One who says of Himself—I am the Lord who heals you! One to whom the soul can say, when the healing balm of a Savior’s blood is made effectually known—"Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all His benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion." To unfold the malady and discover the remedy, is the grand purpose of the Holy Spirit in the Scriptures. What sin is and what grace is, are there indeed clearly depicted by the Holy Spirit, written by His unerring pen as with a ray of light. And it is a blessing of blessings—a blessing beyond all value—that we know also there is a cure for it!
Every fresh discovery of our vile nature
We usually know but little of our dreadful depravity, when the Lord first takes us in hand. The fountains of the great deep are not then broken up. The desperate unbelief, enmity, rebellion, perverseness, pride, hypocrisy, uncleanness—and all the other vile corruptions of our heart—are not at first opened up and brought to light. But as the Lord leads the soul on, He opens up by degrees the desperate corruption and depravity of our nature—and unfolds the hidden evils of our heart, which before were covered from our view.
It is with us as it was with the prophet Ezekiel. The Lord led him into one chamber after another; and when his astonishment increased at what he saw there, He said unto him—"Turn yet again, and you shall see greater abominations than these!" But as the Lord leads us into a knowledge of our depravity, He makes us to feel sick at heart, and thus we come into the state of feeling described by the prophet Isaiah—"The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores: they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment." And as we are led into a knowledge of our sinfulness—and groan under it—we feel more and more a burden of shame and sorrow on account of it. And the more deeply and daily that this is felt—the more deeply and daily do we find our need of the great Physician. All the Lord’s dealings with our souls are that He may exalt His dear Son in our hearts—that we may have all the shame—and Jesus all the glory! And therefore, all this deep and daily discovery of our depravity, is eventually to bring greater glory to the Son of God. The deeper we sink into shame and guilt, under the knowledge of the depravity of our nature—the more do we seek unto, feel the power, and prize the love, blood, grace, and preciousness of the Lord Jesus. Every fresh discovery of our vile nature—when the Lord is pleased to bring the savor of Jesus’ name, like the ointment poured forth, into the conscience—serves only instrumentally to increase our faith and affection towards Him. And thus the deeper we sink in self—the higher the Lord Jesus rises in our soul’s admiration and adoration! And to make us more and more dependent upon Jesus, the Lord, by His teachings, usually leads us into a knowledge of our backsliding and idolatrous nature. And O, what a backsliding and idolatrous heart do we carry in our bosom—and how perpetually does it make us sigh and groan! Is there anything too vile for our depraved nature not to lust after? Is there anything too base which our hearts will not imagine? Are there any puddles, which, if God left us to ourselves, we would not grovel in? As we are brought more to feel the workings of this base backsliding heart, and have the burden of it more laid upon our conscience—the more sick are we at heart—and the more is the disease felt to be in the very vitals!
We sigh and groan because we are so vile—for we desire to be far otherwise. In our right mind, we would live in the fear of the Lord all the day long, and would never do a single thing inconsistent with the precepts of the gospel. We would never say a word that the Lord would disapprove of. We would always walk in faith, hope, and love. We would continually be spiritual and heavenly-minded. But alas, this is what we cannot attain unto. Our eye is caught by every passing vanity! Our carnal minds rove after forbidden things. And our vile heart will still commit villainy. And as the conscience is made tender—and as the soul is led into a deeper acquaintance with the spirituality of God’s character and the purity of His nature—and as a deeper and clearer knowledge of Jesus in all His covenant relationship is gained—the more it is felt to be an evil and bitter thing to depart from the Fountain of living waters! Has He ever erred?
"To God our Savior, who alone is wise, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen." Jude 1:25
God is infinitely and unspeakably wise. Can He err? Has He ever erred? In all the multiplicity and variety of circumstances that have distressed the children of God—has the Lord ever taken a wrong step? Though He has baffled nature—though He has disconcerted reason—though He has turned our plans upside down—though perhaps He has done the thing that we most feared—and thwarted every natural purpose and inclination of our heart—can we say that He has erred? That He has made a mistake? That He has acted unwisely? That He has not done that which is for our spiritual good? Murmuring, rebellious, unbelieving heart—hold your peace! Shall man, foolish man, a worm of the earth, a creature of a day—lift up his puny voice and say that God can make a mistake? Your path is very dark, very intricate, very perplexed—you cannot see the hand of God in the trial that is now resting upon you—you cannot believe that it will work together for your good. But the time will come, when this dark path in which you are now walking, shall be seen full of radiancy and light—when you will prove the truth of those words—He brought "the blind by a way that they knew not." When we know God to be infinitely wise—that He cannot err—that all His dealings must be stamped with His own eternal wisdom—we are silenced, we hold our peace, we have nothing to say, we are where Aaron was. When his sons Nadab and Abihu were smitten by the Lord, Aaron knew that God could not err—he "held his peace." This is our right spot! If we know anything of the folly of the creature—if we know anything of the wisdom of God—this is our spot! When our dear Nadabs and Abihus are smitten before our face, our spot is to hold our peace, to put our mouth in the dust—for God is still accomplishing His object—in the face, and in spite of nature, sense, and reason!
Only one hand can ease the trouble "The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble." Psalms 9:9 Do you not see how the scriptures always put together the malady and the remedy? How they unfold the promises as suitable to certain states and cases of soul? And how all the perfections of God are adapted to His people only so far as they are brought into peculiar circumstances? This vein runs through all the scripture. So here, the Lord is declared to be a refuge. But when? "In times of trouble." We do not need Him to be a refuge when there is no trouble. Shall I use the expression without irreverence—’We can do without Him then.’ We can—love the world—amuse ourselves with the things of time and sense—let our heads go astray after the perishing, transitory vanities of a day—set up an idol in our heart—bow down before a ’golden god’—have our affections wholly fixed on those naturally dear to us—get up in the morning, pass through the day, and lie down at night—very well without God. But when times of trouble come—when afflictions lie heavily upon us—when we are brought into those scenes of tribulation through which we must pass to arrive at the heavenly Canaan—then we need something more than flesh and blood—then we need something more than the perishing creature can unfold—then we need something more than this vain world can amuse us with! We then need God! We need the everlasting arms to be underneath our souls—we need His consolations—we need something from the Lord’s own lips dropped with the Lord’s own power into our hearts!
These times of ’soul trouble’ make God’s people know that the Lord is their refuge. If I am in soul trouble—if my heart is surcharged with guilt—if my conscience is lacerated with the pangs of inward remorse—can the creature give me relief? Can friends dry the briny tear? Can they still the convulsive sigh? Can they calm the troubled bosom? Can they pour oil and wine into the bleeding conscience? No! They are utterly powerless in the matter! They may increase our troubles, and they often, like Job’s friends, do so. But they cannot alleviate it.
Only one hand can ease the trouble—the same hand that laid it on! Only one hand can heal the wound—the same that mercifully inflicted it! Now, in these times of soul trouble, if ever we have felt them—we shall make the Lord our refuge. There is no other to go to! We may try every arm but His—we may look every way but the right way—and we may lean upon every staff but the true one. But, sooner or later, we shall be brought to this spot—that none but the Lord God Almighty, who made heaven and earth, who brought our souls and bodies into being, who has kept and preserved us to the present hour, who is around our bed, and about our path, and spies out all our ways, and who has sent His dear Son to be a propitiation for our sin—that none but this eternal Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer, who made and upholds heaven and earth—can speak peace, pardon, and consolation to our hearts!
How sweet it is in these times of trouble—to have a God to go to—to feel that there are everlasting arms to lean upon—that there is a gracious ear into which we may pour our afflictions—that there is a heart, a sympathizing heart, in the bosom of the Lord of life and glory, which feels for us—to know that there is a hand to relieve, and to experience, at times, relief from that Almighty and gracious hand!
Feeding upon this vile garbage? Who of us (with shame be it spoken), who of us has not secretly been indulging in trains of evil thoughts? Who has not been laying, in some manner, plans of sin? Who has not been feeding upon this vile garbage? Who has not felt the love of sin in the carnal mind in the secret cravings after it? And if God’s grace did not powerfully work in the conscience—who of us would not have fallen headlong into some of those snares and baits and traps, by which we would have disgraced ourselves? And why? At times, God implants convictions in the conscience. He gives us discoveries of the evils of our heart—and of the pride, the hypocrisy, the self-righteousness, the carnality, and wickedness of our fallen nature. And why? Because through them we are made to look out of ourselves unto the Lord Jesus Christ, as able to save us unto the uttermost from every corruption of our fallen nature!
Promises "Whereby He has granted to us His precious and exceedingly great promises." 2 Peter 1:4
God’s promises, as received into a broken heart and contrite spirit—bring sweet and blessed peace into the soul—melt the heart with a sense of God’s unceasing goodness and mercy—make our affections spiritual—lift us up out of trouble—bring us away from the world—and subdue the power of sin!
It is not our holiness
It is not our holiness, nor our purity, nor our piety which bring us near to the Lord—but our felt sinnership, our guilt, our filth, our condemnation, and our shame!
Oh that I knew where I might find Him!
"Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" Job 23:3
I can picture to myself a consultation of ministers on Job’s case, with the various opinions they would give, and the various remedies they would propose. Here is the poor patient, and he keeps crying out, "O that I knew where I might find Him!" The chief Rabbi of the Pharisees would say, "Kneel down Job, and say your prayers—is not that sufficient?" The Catholic clergyman would urge, "Hear the voice of the only true Church—attend daily upon her admirable Liturgy—come to the altar, and partake of the flesh and blood of the Lord." The Wesleyan minister would cry, "Up and be doing—try your best—exert your free will, and shake off this gloom and despondency." The general Evangelical minister would advise "cheerful and active piety, to subscribe to Societies, and exert himself in the Lord’s cause." And the dry doctrinal Calvinistic minister, with a look of contempt, would say, "Away with your doubts and fears, Job—this living upon frames and feelings, and poring over yourself. Do not gloat over your corruptions—look to Jesus—you are complete in Him—why should you fear? You are quite safe." But the sick patient would still groan out, "Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" He would say, "You may all be very wise men, but to me you are physicians of no value! Oh that I knew where I might find Him!"
What Job wanted "Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" Job 23:3
What Job wanted was the sweet presence of the Lord in his soul—access unto Him by faith—some testimony from the Lord’s lips—some sweet and precious discoveries of the Lord’s grace, mercy and peace. But some might say, "Is there not a Bible to read! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not a mercy-seat! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not such and such a chapel! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not such a duty! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not such a doctrine! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not such an ordinance! Can’t you find Him there?" Another might say, "Is there not such a gospel church! Can’t you find Him there?" But the poor soul still groans out, "Oh that I knew where I might find Him! For I have tried all these things; and I cannot find Him in these doctrines, duties, privileges, ordinances—in hearing, reading, or in talking."
"Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" says the poor sorrowing, groaning soul. "If I could but find the Lord in my heart and conscience, if I could but taste His blessed presence in my soul, I would want no more." That soul is safe which is here—for none ever breathed out these sighs, groanings and cries into the bosom of the Lord, and said, "Oh that I knew where I might find Him!" that did not find Him sooner or later, and embrace Him in the arms of faith and affection as the altogether lovely One!
What is repentance?
What is repentance? The conviction of sin produced by the operation of the Spirit upon the conscience—piercing and penetrating the soul with the guilt of transgression—and creating self-loathing and self-abhorrence on account of the manifested evils of our hearts, lips, and lives. Honest confessions of our sins at the footstool of mercy—a broken heart and a contrite spirit—a truly penitent soul, melted, dissolved, and laid low in tears of godly sorrow at the feet of Christ—will always accompany that repentance unto life, which is the gift of Jesus. A man’s greatest & worst enemy "My deadly enemies, who compass me about." Psalms 17:9
How often are we defeated by our enemies! You may have many enemies; but there is no enemy—so subtle—so dangerous—so unwearied—and ever so close at hand—as that which you carry in your own bosom! The greatest enemy that we have to cope with, is that enemy self. A man may do himself more injury in five minutes than all his enemies put together could do in fifty years! Self, therefore, is and ever must be a man’s greatest and worst enemy! And how often are we defeated by this enemy! Self gets the better of us—pride, covetousness, fleshly lusts, carnality, worldly-mindedness, unbelief—some indulged evil, some besetting sin for a time overcomes the soul, and we are defeated by this enemy!
Screwed into him by an Almighty hand The humble man has a solemn sense of God’s holiness—and of his own filthiness before Him. He who is really humble has had a true sight of himself—and carries about with him a deep and abiding sense of his vileness and filthiness. The base pride, presumption, and hypocrisy of his fallen nature, has been turned up by God’s plough in his conscience. He therefore loathes himself in his own sight as a monster of iniquity—and feels that he has sin enough in his heart to damn a thousand worlds! He sees and feels himself one of the most abominable, carnal, sensual, earthly, and vile wretches, that can crawl on God’s earth! He feels that he contains in himself the seeds and buddings of those crimes that have brought hundreds to the gallows! And these feelings he carries about with him—not as a theory floating in his brain—nor as a doctrine gathered from the Scriptures—but as a solemn reality, lodged and planted by God Himself in his soul—a conviction fastened and screwed into him by an Almighty hand. This is the way that a man learns humility—not as a cultivated religious duty—but as a lesson spiritually taught him. Now, he sees what a base, helpless, needy, naked wretch he really is. The furnace of affliction "I have chosen you in the furnace of affliction." Isaiah 48:10 The Lord’s people are an afflicted people. The afflictions that the Lord’s people have to pass through are not meant to be light ones. The Lord lays no light burdens on His people’s shoulders. His purpose is to bring them to a certain point to work a certain work in their souls—to reduce them to that helplessness, weakness and powerlessness in which His strength is made manifest. The nominal professor of religion The children of God and the mere nominal professors hold the same truths—but they believe them in a different way. The nominal professor receives the doctrines because he sees them in God’s Word. The child of God receives them because they are taken out of God’s Word by the Holy Spirit—and are revealed with power to his soul. Thus the living family and the nominal professor of religion differ in the way they believe the truth. The one believing it spiritually—the other believing it naturally. The one believing it with his heart—the other believing it with his head. The one feeling it in his conscience—the other having it merely floating in his brain. A mere professor of religion may have the doctrines of grace in his head—but is devoid of the feeling power of truth in his soul.
We cannot help or deliver ourselves Could the loving heart of Jesus sympathize with and deliver us, unless He saw and knew all that passes within us—and had all power, as well as all compassion, to exert on our behalf? We are continually in circumstances where no man can do us the least good, and where we cannot help or deliver ourselves. We are in snares, and cannot break them. We are in temptations—and cannot deliver ourselves out of them. We are in trouble—and cannot comfort ourselves. We are wandering sheep—and cannot find the way back to the fold. We are continually roving after idols, and hewing out ’broken cisterns’—and cannot return to ’the fountain of living waters.’ How suitable, then, and sweet it is, to those who are thus exercised, to see that there is a gracious Immanuel at the right hand of the Father—whose heart is filled with love—whose affections move with compassion—who has shed His own precious blood that we might live—who has wrought out a glorious righteousness—and is able to save unto the uttermost all who come unto God by Him.
What is vital godliness?
What is vital godliness? To make myself good and holy? To make myself religious and serious, and a decidedly pious person? Such husks may satisfy swine—but they will not satisfy a living soul. What must I do, then, to make myself better? Nothing! Can I, by any exertion of creature-will or power, change my Ethiopian skin, or wash out my leopard spots? To feel day by day less and less in self—to become more foolish, weak, and powerless—and yet, as poor, needy, weak, and helpless, to be drawing supplies out of Christ’s fullness, and to live a life of faith on the Son of God—to know something of this, is to know something of what true religion is. And to know a little of this, will make a man more outwardly and inwardly holy, than all the good works or pious resolutions in the world.
Backsliding Who that knows himself and the idolatry of his fallen nature dares deny that he backslides perpetually in heart, lip, or life? Can any of us here deny that we have—backslidden from our first love—backslidden from simplicity and godly sincerity—backslidden from reverence and godly fear—backslidden from spirituality and heavenly-mindedness—backslidden from the breathings of affection and pouring forth of the heart into the bosom of the Lord? And if we have not been allowed to backslide into open sin, if the Lord has kept us, and not allowed us to be cast down into the mire—yet have we not committed the twofold evil which the Lord charges upon His people—"For My people have done two evil things: They have forsaken Me—the fountain of living water. And they have dug for themselves cracked cisterns that can hold no water at all!" By the fall By the fall, human nature became—thoroughly depraved—alienated from the life of God—subservient to Satan—madly in love with sin—opposed to God—and hostile to Him at every point.
Divine light "The entrance of Your words gives light." Psalms 119:130 The entrance of divine light into the conscience is needed for a man to know himself. He must be experimentally taught and made to feel that he is a poor, needy, naked, guilty, filthy wretch—that he is a complete mass of disease, corruption, and pollution—that by nature he is nothing and has nothing spiritually good—that there is no one thing is his heart that God can look upon with acceptance—but that he is a vile fallen creature, who must be saved by sovereign grace. No man can know anything of the horrible nature of sin, of the black pollution that lurks in his bosom, of the dreadful condition of his most depraved, diseased nature—no man can know them so as to feel what they really are—no man can shrink, as it were, into the very depths of self-abasement—except him into whose heart light has come—into whose soul there has been an ’entrance of God’s words’—and into whose conscience the entrance of that word has communicated light as to who God is, and light as to what he himself is naturally, before Him. When that heavenly Teacher writes His lesson of convictions in the conscience, the living soul is brought to groan and sigh, to lament and mourn as a polluted sinner before God—as a deeply infected wretch, a vile leper who has to stand with his clothes torn, and his head bare, crying—Unclean, unclean! It is the entrance of God’s words into his conscience, which has given him light upon this inward leprosy.
It is no easy smooth path The way to heaven is a rough and rugged road—encompassed with difficulties and beset with temptations. It is no easy smooth path—but one that requires a vigorous traveler, one strengthened and upheld by the power and grace of God to hold on to the end.
Overcome, beaten & defeated? No man ever gained the victory over self, or overcame sin—who depended upon himself or trusted to his own strength. But when, after repeated and aggravated failures, almost in an agony of despair, he falls down before God, overcome, beaten and defeated, and with longing eyes looks to Him who sits upon the throne, and begs of Him to undertake His cause—then that victory which was impossible to nature, now becomes possible to grace—and that which he could never have done for himself, the Lord does for him in the twinkling of an eye!
It levels this idol prostrate in the dust
"I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because You have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." Matthew 11:25
It is God’s glory—to pour contempt upon human wisdom, and to bring it to nothing—to take the wise in their own craftiness—to lay low in the dust all that man idolizes, that man exalts himself in, and that man loves and adores. If there is one thing in our day more idolized than another, it is the ’wisdom of the creature.’ If there is one idol which the world lying in wickedness and the world lying in profession, worship more than another (always excepting Mammon—the great idol before whom all fall down and worship), it is creature-wisdom. But this text of Scripture makes a direct stab at the vitals of creature-wisdom—it levels this idol prostrate in the dust—and as Dagon could not stand before the ark of the covenant, so human wisdom must fall prostrate before this declaration from the mouth of the Son of God, and become a stump. All human knowledge, and all human wisdom leave man just where they found him—carnal, sensual, worldly, dead in trespasses and sins!