Chapters 33
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1 01 - What is Man? 16:37
What is man?
What is man? Psalm 8, verse 4. Nay, what am I? With God's assistance I would consider myself. Here is a curious machine, fearfully and wonderfully made. It is a little portion of earth, the particles of which, cohering, I know not how, lengthen into innumerable fibers, a thousand times finer than hairs. These Crossing each other in all directions, are strangely wrought into membranes, and these membranes are as strangely wrought into arteries, veins, nerves, and glands, all of which contain various fluids, constantly circulating through the whole machine.
In order to the continuance of this circulation, a considerable quantity of air is necessary, and this is continually taken into the habit by an engine fitted for that very purpose. But as a particle of ethereal fire is connected with every particle of air, and a particle of water too, so both air, water, and fire are received into the lungs together, where the fire is separated from the air and water, both of which are continually thrown out, while the fire, extracted from them, is received into, and mingled with, the blood. Thus the human body is composed of all the four elements, duly proportioned and mixed together. The last of which constitutes the vital flame whence flows the animal heat.
Let me consider this yet a little farther. Is not the primary use of the lungs to administer fire to the body, which is continually extracted from the air by that curious fire-pump? By inspiration it takes in the air, water, and fire together. In its numerous cells, commonly called air-vessels, it detaches the fire from the air and water. This then mixes with the blood, as every air vessel has a blood vessel connected with it, and as soon as the fire is extracted from it, the air and water are thrown out by expiration. Without this spring of life, this vital fire, there could be no circulation of the blood, consequently no motion of any of the fluids, of the nervous fluid in particular, if it be not rather, as is highly probable, this very fire we are speaking of.
Therefore there could not be any sensation nor any muscular motion. I say, there could be no circulation, for the cause usually assigned for this, namely, the force of the heart, is altogether inadequate to this supposed effect. No one supposes the force of the heart in a strong man to be more than equal to the weight of three thousand pounds, whereas it would require a force equal to the weight of a hundred thousand pounds. To propel the blood from the heart through all the arteries. This can only be effected by the ethereal fire contained in the blood itself, assisted by the elastic force of the arteries through which it circulates. But beside this strange compound of the four elements, earth, water, air, and fire, I find something in me of a quite different nature, nothing akin to any of these.
I find something in me that thinks, which neither earth Water, air, fire, nor any mixture of them, can possibly do. Something which sees, and hears, and smells, and tastes, and feels. All which are so many modes of thinking. It goes farther. Having perceived objects by any of these senses, it forms inward ideas of them. It judges concerning them. It sees whether they agree or disagree with each other. It reasons concerning them. That is. Infers one proposition from another. It reflects upon its own operations. It is endued with imagination and memory, and any of its operations, judgment in particular, may be subdivided into many others.
But by what means shall I learn in what part of my body this thinking principle is lodged? Some eminent men have affirmed that it is all in all, and all in every part, But I learn nothing from this. They seem to be words that have no determinate meaning. Let us then appeal, in the best manner we can, to our own experience. From this I learn, that this thinking principle is not lodged in my hands, or feet, or legs, or arms. It is not lodged in the trunk of my body. Any one may be assured of this by a little reflection. I cannot conceive that it is situated in my bones, or in any part of my flesh. So far, as I can judge, it seems to be situated in some part of my head, but whether in the pineal gland, or in any part of the brain, I am not able to determine.
But farther, this inward principle, wherever it is lodged, is capable not only of thinking, but likewise of love, hatred, joy, sorrow, desire, fear, hope. And a whole train of other inward emotions, which are commonly called passions or affections. They are styled, by a general appellation, the will, and are mixed and diversified a thousand ways. And they seem to be the only spring of action in the inward principle I call the soul. But what is my soul? It is an important question, and not easily to be resolved. Here'st thou submissive, but a lowly birth. Some separate particles of finer earth. A plain effect which nature must beget, as motion dictates, and as atoms meet. I cannot in any wise believe this.
My reason recoils at it. I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that the soul is either earth, water, or fire, or a composition of all of them put together. Were it only for this plain reason, all these Whether separate or compounded in any possible way, are purely passive still. None of them has the least power of self-motion. None of them can move itself. But, says one, does not that ship move? Yes, but not of itself. It is moved by the water on which it swims. But then the water moves. True, but the water is moved by the wind, the current of air. But the air moves. It is moved by the ethereal fire, which is attached to every particle of it, and this fire itself is moved by the Almighty Spirit, the source of all the motion in the universe.
But my soul has from him an inward principle of motion, whereby it governs at pleasure every part of the body. It governs every motion of the body, only with this exception, which is a marvelous instance of the wise and generous providence of the Great Creator. There are some motions of the body which are absolutely needful for the continuance of life, such as the dilation and contraction of the lungs, the systole and diastole of the heart, the pulsation of the arteries, and the circulation of the blood. These are not governed by me at pleasure. They do not wait the direction of my will. And it is well they do not. It is highly proper that all the vital motions should be involuntary. Going on whether we advert to them or not, word otherwise grievous inconveniences might follow.
A man might put an end to his own life, whenever he pleased, by suspending the motion of his heart or of his lungs, or he might lose his life by mere inattention, by not remembering, not adverting to, the circulation of his blood. But these vital motions being accepted, I direct the motion of my whole body. By a single act of my will I put my head, eyes, hands, or any part of my body into motion. Although I no more comprehend how to do this, than I can comprehend how the three that bear record in heaven are one. But what am I? Unquestionably, I am something distinct from my body. It seems evident that my body is not necessarily included therein. For when my body dies, I shall not die. I shall exist as really as I did before, and I cannot but believe this self-moving, thinking principle, with all its passions and affections, will continue to exist, although the body be moldered into dust.
Indeed, at present this body is so intimately connected with the soul that I seem to consist of both. In my present state of existence I undoubtedly consist both of soul and body, and so I shall again, after the resurrection, to all eternity.
I am conscious to myself of one more property, commonly called liberty. This is very frequently confounded with the will, but is of a very different nature. Neither is it a property of the will, but a distinct property of the soul, capable of being exerted with regard to all the faculties of the soul, as well as all the motions of the body. It is a power of self-determination, which, although it does not exist to all our thoughts and imaginations, Yet extends to our words and actions in general, and not with many exceptions. I am full as certain of this, that I am free, with respect to these, to speak or not to speak, to act or not to act, to do this or the contrary, as I am of my own existence.
I have not only what is termed a liberty of contradiction, power to do or not to do, but what is termed a liberty of contrariety. A power to act one way, or the contrary. To deny this would be to deny the constant experience of all humankind. Everyone feels that he has an inherent power to move this or that part of his body, to move it or not, and to move this way or the contrary, just as he pleases. I can, as I choose, and so can every one that is born of a woman, open or shut my eyes, speak or be silent, rise or sit down. Stretch out my hand or draw it in, and use any of my limbs according to my pleasure, as well as my whole body. And although I have not an absolute power over my own mind, because of the corruption of my own nature, yet, through the grace of God assisting me, I have a power to choose and do good, as well as evil.
I am free to choose whom I will serve, and if I choose the better part, to continue therein even unto death.
But tell me, frighted Nature, what is death? Blood only stopped an interrupted breath, the utmost limit of a narrow span, and even of motion, which with life began. Death is properly the separation of the soul from the body. Of this we are certain, but we are not certain, at least in many cases, of the time when this separation is made. Is it when respiration ceases? According to the well-known maxim, Nullis Spiritus Nulla Vita, where there is no breath, there is no life. Nay, we cannot absolutely affirm this, for many instances have been known, of those whose breath was totally lost, and yet their lives have been recovered. Is it when the heart no longer beats, or when the circulation of the blood ceases?
Not so, For the heart may beat anew, and the circulation of the blood, after it is quite interrupted, may begin again. Is the soul separated from the body, when the body is stiff and cold, as a piece of ice? But there have been several instances lately, of persons who were thus cold and stiff, and had no symptoms of life remaining, who, nevertheless, upon proper application, recovered both life and health. Therefore we can say no more than that death is the separation of the soul and body. But in many cases God only can tell the moment of that separation. But what we are much concerned to know, and deeply to consider, is the end of life. For what end is life bestowed upon the children of Me? Why were we sent into the world?
For one sole end, and for no other, to prepare for eternity. For this alone we live. For this and no other purpose Is our life either given or continued? It pleased the all-wise God, at the season which He saw best, to arise in the greatness of His strength, and create the heavens and the earth, and all things that are therein. Having prepared all things for Him, He created man in His own image, after His own likeness. And what was the end of His creation? It was one and no other, that He might know and love and enjoy.
But, man, being in honor, continued not, but became lower than even the beasts that perish. He willfully and openly rebelled against God, and cast off his allegiance to the majesty of heaven. Hereby he instantly lost both the favor of God and the image of God wherein he was created. As he was then incapable of obtaining happiness by the old, God established a new covenant with man. The terms of which were no longer, Do this and live, but, Believe and thou shalt be saved. But still the end of man is one and the same, only it stands on another foundation. For the plain tenor of it is, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, whom God hath given to be the propitiation for thy sins, and thou shalt be saved, first from the guilt of sin, having redemption through his blood, then from the power.
So that still the end of his life, the life of every man born into the world, is to know, love, and serve his great Creator. And let it be observed, as thus is the end, so it is the whole and sole end. Remember, you were born for nothing else. You live for nothing else. Your life is continued to you upon earth for no other purpose than this, that you may know, love, and serve God on earth, and enjoy Him to all eternity. Consider. You were not created to please your senses. To gratify your imagination, to gain money or the praise of men, to seek happiness in any created good, in anything under the sun. All this is walking in a vain shadow. It is leading a restless, miserable life, in order to a miserable eternity.
On the contrary, you were created for this, and for no other purpose, by seeking and finding happiness in God on earth, to secure the glory of God in heaven. Therefore let your heart continually say, This one thing I do. Having one thing in view, remembering why I was born and why I am continued in life, I press on to the mark. I aim at the one end of my being, God, even at God in Christ reconciling the world to Himself. He shall be my God for ever and ever, and my guide even unto death. Bradford. May 2, 1788.
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2 02 - On the Discoveries of Faith 19:29
On the Discoveries of Faith.
Now faith is the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11.1 For many ages it has been allowed by sensible men, nihil est in intellectu quod non fruit prius und sensu, that is, there is nothing in the understanding which was not first perceived by some of the senses. All the knowledge which we naturally have is originally derived from our senses. And therefore those who want any sense cannot have the least knowledge or idea of the objects of that sense, as they that never had sight have not the least knowledge or conception of light or colors. Some, indeed, have of late years endeavored to prove that we have innate ideas, not derived from any of the senses, but coeval with the understanding. But this point has been now thoroughly discussed by men of the most eminent sense in learning, And it is agreed by all impartial persons that, although some things are so plain and obvious that we can very hardly avoid knowing them as soon as we come to the use of our understanding, yet the knowledge even of these is not innate but derived from some of our senses.
But there is a great difference between our senses considered as avenues of our knowledge. Some of them have a very narrow sphere of action, some a more extensive one. By feeling, we discern only those objects that touch some part of our body, and consequently this sense extends only to a small number of objects. Our senses of taste and smell, which some count as species of feeling, extend to fewer still. But on the other hand, our nobler sense of hearing has an exceeding wide sphere of action, especially in the case of loud sounds, as thunder, the roaring of the sea, or the discharge of cannon. The last of which sounds has been frequently heard at the distance of near a hundred miles. Yet the space to which the hearing itself extends is small compared to that through which the sight extends.
The sight takes in at one view not only the most unbounded prospects of Earth, but also the Moon and the other planets, the Sun, yea, the fixed stars, though at such an immeasurable distance. That they appear no larger through our finest telescopes than they do to the naked eye. But still none of our senses, no, not the sight itself, can reach beyond the bounds of this visible world. They supply us with such knowledge of the material world as answers all the purposes of life, but as this was the design for which they were given, beyond this they cannot go. They furnish us with no information at all concerning the invisible world. But the wise and gracious Governor of the worlds, both visible and invisible, has prepared a remedy for this deficit.
He hath appointed Faith to supply the defect of sense, to take us up where sense sets us down, and help us over the great gulf. Its office begins where that of sense ends. Sense is an evidence of things that are seen, of the visible, the material world, and of the several parts of it. Faith, on the other hand, is the evidence of things not seen, of the invisible world, of all those invisible things which are revealed in the oracles of God. But indeed they reveal nothing. They are a mere dead letter, if they are not mixed with faith in those that hear them. In particular, faith is an evidence to me of the existence of that unseen thing, my own soul. Without this, I should be in utter uncertainty concerning it.
I should be constrained to ask that melancholy question. Here's thou submissive, but a lowly birth some separate particles of finer earth. But by faith I know it is an immortal spirit made in the image of God, in His nature and moral image, an incorruptible picture of the God of glory. By the same evidence I know that I am now fallen short of the glorious image of God, yea, that I As well as all mankind, am dead in trespasses and sins, so utterly dead, that in me dwelleth no good thing, that I am inclined to all evil, and totally unable to quicken my own soul.
By faith I know that, besides the souls of men, there are other orders of spirits. Yea, I believe that millions of creatures walk the earth unseen, whether we wake or if we sleep. These I term angels, and I believe part of them are holy and happy, and the other part wicked and miserable. I believe the former of these, the good angels, are continually sent of God to minister to the heirs of salvation, who will be equal to angels by and by, although they are now a little inferior to them. I believe the latter, the evil angels, called in Scripture devils, united under one head, termed in Scripture Satan. Emphatically, the enemy, the adversary both of God and man, either range the upper regions, whence they are called princes of the power of the air, or like him walk about the earth as roaring lions, seeking whom they may devour.
But I know by faith that above all these is the Lord Jehovah, He that is, that was, and that is to come, that is God from everlasting, and world without end. He that filleth heaven and earth, he that is infinite in power, in wisdom, in justice, in mercy and holiness, he that created all things, visible and invisible, by the breath of his mouth, and still upholds them all, preserves them in being, by the word of his power, and that governs all things that are in heaven above, in earth beneath, and under the earth. By faith I know there are three that bear record in heaven. The Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit. And that these three are one, that the Word, God the Son, was made flesh, lived and died for our salvation, rose again, ascended into heaven, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father.
By faith I know that the Holy Spirit is the giver of all spiritual life, of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, of holiness and happiness. By the restoration of an image of God wherein we are created. Of all these things faith is the evidence, the sole evidence, to the children of men. And as the information which we receive from our senses does not extend to the invisible world, so neither does it extend to, what is nearly related thereto, the eternal world. In spite of all the instruction which either the sight or any of the senses can afford, the vast The unbounded prospect lies before us, but clouds, alas, and darkness rest upon it. Sense does not let in one ray of light to discover the secrets of the illimitable deep.
This, the eternal world, commences at death, the death of every individual person. The moment the breath of man goeth forth, he is an inhabitant of eternity. Just then time vanishes away, like as a dream when one awaketh. And here again faith supplies the place of sense, and gives us a view of things to come. At once it draws aside the veil which hangs between mortal and immortal being. Faith discovers to us the souls of the righteous, immediately received by the holy angels, carried by those ministering spirits into Abraham's bosom, into the delights of Paradise, the Garden of God, where the light of His countenance perpetually shines. where he converses not only with his former relations, friends and fellow-soldiers, but with the saints of all nations and all ages, with the glorious dead of ancient days, with the noble army of martyrs, the apostles, the prophets.
It was a man that could not be while he remained in the body. It discovers, likewise, the souls of unholy men. Seized, in the low moment they depart from the quivering lips, by those ministers of vengeance, the evil angels, and dragged away to their own place. It is true, this is not the nethermost hell. They are not to be tormented there before the time, before the end of the world, when every one will receive his just recompense of reward. Till then they will probably be employed by their bad master in advancing his infernal kingdom. And in doing all the mischief that lies in their power to the poor, feeble children of men. But still, wherever they seek rest, they will find none. They carry with them their own hell, in the worm that never dieth, in a consciousness of guilt and of the wrath of God, which continually drinks up their spirits, in diabolical, infernal tempers, which are essential misery, and in which they cannot shake off, no, not for an hour.
Moreover, faith opens another scene in the eternal world, namely, the coming of our Lord in the clouds of heaven, to judge both the quick and the dead. It enables us to see the great white throne coming down from heaven, and him that sitteth thereon, from whose face the heavens and the earth flee away, And there is found no place for them. We see the dead, small and great, stand before God. We see the books opened and the dead judged, according to the things that are written in the books. We see the earth and the sea giving up their dead, and hell, that is, the invisible world, giving up the dead that were therein, and everyone judged according to his works.
By faith we are also shown the immediate consequences of the general judgment. We see the execution of that happy sentence pronounced upon those on the right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. After which the holy angels tune their harps and sing, Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be lifted up, ye everlasting doors, that the heirs of glory may come in. And then shall they drink of the rivers of pleasure that are at God's right hand for evermore. We see, likewise, the execution of that dreadful sentence pronounced upon those on the left hand, Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.
And then shall the ministers of divine vengeance plunge them into the lake of fire burning with brimstone, where they have no rest day or night. But the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever. But beside the invisible and the eternal world, which are not seen, which are discovered only by faith, there is a whole system of things which are not seen, which cannot be discerned by any of our outward senses. I mean the spiritual world, understanding thereby the kingdom of God in the soul of man. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard this. Neither can it enter into the heart of man to conceive of the things of this interior kingdom, unless God revealed them by His Spirit. The Holy Spirit prepares us for His inward kingdom by removing the veil from our heart, and enabling us to know ourselves as we are known of Him.
By convincing us of sin, of our evil nature, our evil tempers, and our evil words and actions. All of which cannot but partake of the corruption of the heart from which they spring. He then convinces us of the desert of our sins, so that our mouth is stopped and we are constrained to plead guilty before God. At the same time, we receive the spirit of bondage unto fear, fear of the wrath of God, fear of the punishment which we have deserved, and, above all, fear of death, lest it should consign us over to eternal death. Souls that are thus convinced feel they are so fast in prison that they cannot get forth. They feel themselves at once altogether sinful, altogether guilty, and altogether helpless.
But all this conviction implies a species of faith being an evidence of things not seen, nor indeed possible to be seen or known, till God revealed them unto us. But still let it be carefully observed, for it is a point of no small importance. The faith of a servant implies a divine evidence of the invisible and the eternal world, yea, and an evidence of the spiritual world, so far as it can exist without living experience. Whoever has attained this, the faith of a servant, feareth God and escheweth evil. Or, as it is expressed by St. Peter, feareth God and worketh righteousness. In consequence of which he is, in a degree, as the Apostle observes, accepted with him. Elsewhere he is described in these words, He that feareth God, and keepeth his commandments.
Even one who has gone thus far in religion, who obeys God out of fear, is not in any wise to be despised, seeing, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Nevertheless, he should be exhorted not to stop there, nor rest till he attains the adoption of sons, till he obeys out of love, which is the privilege of all the children of God.
He will then have Christ revealed in his heart. The proper voice of a child of God. He will then be born of God, inwardly changed by the mighty power of God from an earthly, sensual, devilish mind to the mind which was in Christ Jesus. He will experience what St. Paul means by those remarkable words to the Galatians. Ye are the sons of God by faith, and because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. He that believeth, as a son, as St. John observes, hath the witness in himself. The Spirit itself witnesses with his spirit that he is a child of God. The love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto him. But many doubts and fears may still remain.
Even in a child of God, while he is weak in faith, while he is in the number of those whom St. Paul terms babes in Christ. But when his faith is strengthened, when he receives faith's abiding impression, realizing things to come, when he has received the abiding witness of the Spirit, doubts and fears vanish away. He then enjoys the ploraflary, or full assurance of faith, excluding all doubt and all fear that hath torment. To those whom he styles young men, St. John says, I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome the wicked one. These, the apostle observes, in the other verse, had the word of God abiding in them. It may not improbably mean the pardoning word, the word which spake all their sins forgiven, in consequence of which they have the consciousness of the divine favor without any intermission.
To these men especially we may apply the exhortation of the Apostle Paul. Leaving the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, namely, repentance and faith, let us go on unto perfection. But in what sense are we to leave those principles? Not absolutely, for we are to retain both one and the other, the knowledge of ourselves and the knowledge of God, unto our lives' ends. But only comparatively, not fixing, as we did at first, our whole attention upon them, But what is the perfection here spoken of? It is not only a deliverance from doubts and fears, but from sin, from all inward as well as outward sin, from evil desires and evil tempers, as well as from evil works and words. Yea, it is not only a negative blessing, a deliverance from all evil dispositions, implied in that expression, I will circumcise my heart.
But a positive one likewise, even the planting all good dispositions in their place, clearly implied in that other expression, to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul. These are they to whom the Apostle John gives the venerable title of Fathers, who have known Him, that is, from the beginning, the eternal Three-One God. One of these expresses Himself thus. I bear about with me an experimental verity and plenitude of the presence of the ever-blessed Trinity. And those who are fathers in Christ, generally, though I believe not always, enjoy the pluriphy, or full assurance of hope, having no more doubt of reigning with Him in glory than if they already saw Him coming in the clouds of heaven.
But this does not prevent their continually increasing in the knowledge and love of God. While they rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks. They pray in particular that they may never cease to watch, to deny themselves, to take up their cross daily, to fight the good fight of faith, and against the world, the devil, and their own manifold infirmities, till they are able to comprehend with all saints what is the length and breadth and height and depth And to know that love of Christ which passeth knowledge, yea, to be filled with all the fulness of God. Yarm. June 11th, 1788.
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3 03 - On the Omnipresence of God 15:28
Sermons on Several Occasions. On the omnipresence of God Do I not fill heaven and earth, saith the Lord? Jeremiah, twenty three, twenty four. How strongly and beautifully do these words express the omnipresence of God! And can there be in the whole compass of nature a more sublime subject? Can there be any more worthy the consideration of every rational creature? Is there any more necessary to be considered and to be understood, so far as our poor faculties will admit? How many excellent purposes may it answer? What deep instruction may it convey to all the children of men? and, more directly, to the children of God. How is it, then, that so little has been wrote on so sublime and useful a subject?
It is true that some of our most eminent writers have occasionally touched upon it, and have several strong and beautiful reflections which were naturally suggested by it, but which of them has published a greater treatise, or so much as a sermon upon the head? Perhaps many were conscious of their inability to do justice to so vast a subject, It is possible there may be some such lie hidden in the voluminous writings of the last century, but if they are hid even in their own country, if they are already buried in oblivion, it is the same, for any use they are of, as if they had never been wrote. What seems to be wanting still for general use is a plain discourse on the omnipresence or ubiquity of God, first in some manner explaining and proving that glorious truth, God is in this, and every place, and then applying it to the consciences of all thinking men in a few practical inferences.
I. Accordingly, I will endeavor, by the assistance of His Spirit, first a little to explain the omnipresence of God, to show how we are to understand this glorious truth. God is in this, and every place. The psalmist, you may remember, speaks strongly and beautifully upon it in the 100th and 39th Psalm. Observing in the most exact order, first, God is in this place, and then, God is in every place. He observes, First, Thou art about my bed, and about my path, and spiest out all my ways. Psalms 1.39.3 Thou hast fashioned me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. Psalms 1.39.5 Although the manner thereof he could not explain, how it was he could not tell. Such knowledge, says he, is too wonderful for me.
I cannot attain to it. He next observes, in the most lively and affecting manner, that God is in every place. Whither shall I go then from thy spirit, or whither shall I go from thy presence? If I climb up into heaven, thou art there. If I go down to hell, thou art there also. Psalms 1, 39, 7, and 8. If I could ascend, speaking after the manner of men, to the highest part of the universe, or could I descend to the lowest point, thou art alike present both in one and the other. If I should take the wings of the morning and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea, even if there thy hand would lead me, thy power and thy presence would be before me, and thy right hand would hold me, seeing thou art equally in the length and breadth, and in the height and depth of the universe.
Indeed, thy presence and knowledge not only reach the utmost bounds of creation, but thine omnipresent sight even to the pathless realms extends of uncreated night. In a word, there is no point of space, whether within or without the bounds of creation, where God is not. Indeed, this subject is far too vast to be comprehended by the narrow limits of human understanding. We can only say the Great God, the Eternal, the Almighty Spirit, is as unbounded in His presence as in His duration and power. In condescension, indeed, to our weak understanding, He is said to dwell in heaven. But, strictly speaking, the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him, but He is in every part of His dominion. The universal God dwelleth in universal space, so that we may say, Hail, Father, whose creating call unnumbered worlds attend, Jehovah comprehending all whom none can comprehend.
If we may dare attempt the illustrating this a little farther, what is a space occupied by a grain of sand, compared to that space which is occupied by the starry heavens? It is a cipher. It is nothing. It vanishes away in the comparison. What is it, then, to the whole expanse of space to which the whole creation is infinitely less than a grain of sand? And yet this space, to which the whole creation bears no proportion at all, is infinitely less in comparison to the great God than a grain of sand, yea, a millionth part of it bears to that whole space. Two, this seems to be the plain meaning of those solemn words which God speaks of Himself, Do not I fill heaven and earth? And these sufficiently prove His omnipresence, which may be farther proved from this consideration.
God acts everywhere, and therefore is everywhere, for it is an utter impossibility that any being, created or uncreated, should work where it is not. God acts in heaven, in earth, and under the earth, throughout the whole compass of His creation, by sustaining all things, without which everything would in an instant sink into its primitive nothing, by governing all, every moment superintending everything that He has made, Strongly and sweetly influencing all, and yet without destroying the liberty of his rational creatures. The very heathens acknowledge that the great God governs the large and conspicuous parts of the universe, that He regulates the motions of the heavenly bodies, of the sun, moon, and stars, that He is totem mens adjutens bolem et magno sicupore mesens, the all-informing soul, that fills, pervades, and actuates the whole.
But they had no conception of his having a regard to the least things as well as the greatest, of his presiding over all that he has made, and governing atoms as well as worlds. This we could not have known unless it had pleased God to reveal it unto us himself. Had he not himself told us so, we would not have dared to think that not a sparrow falleth to the ground without the will of our Father which is in heaven, and much less affirm that even the very hairs of our head are all numbered. This comfortable truth, that God filleth heaven and earth, we learn also from the psalm above recited, If I climb up into heaven, thou art there. If I go down to hell, thou art there also. If I take the wings of the morning and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there thy hand shall lead me.
The plain meaning is, if I remove to any distance whatever thou art there, thou still besettest me, and layest thine hand upon me. Let me flee to any conceivable or inconceivable distance. Above, beneath, or on any side, it makes no difference. Thou art still equally there, and thee I still live and move, and have my being. And where no creature is, still God is there. The presence or absence of any or all creatures makes no difference with regard to Him. He is equally in all, or without all. Many have been the disputes among philosophers whether there be any such thing as empty space in the universe, and it is now generally supposed that all space is full. Perhaps it cannot be proved that all space is filled with matter.
But the heathen himself will bear us witness, Jovis Omnia Plena. All things are full of God. Yea, and space exists beyond the bounds of creation, for creation must have bounds. Seeing nothing is boundless, nothing can be but the Great Creator. Even that space cannot exclude him who fills the heaven and the earth. Just equivalent to this is the expression of the Apostle, Ephesians 1, 23, not, as some have strangely supposed, concerning the church, but concerning the head of it, the fullness of him that filleth all in awe. Tipanta in Passen literally translated, All Things in All Things, the strongest expression of universality which can possibly be conceived. It necessarily includes the last and the greatest of all things that exist, so that if any expression could be stronger, it would be stronger than even that, the filling heaven and earth.
Indeed, this very expression, Do not I fill heaven and earth? The question being equal to the strongest affirmation implies the clearest assertion of God's being present everywhere and filling all space. For it is well known, the Hebrew phrase, Heaven and Earth, includes the whole universe, the whole extent of space, created or uncreated, and all that is therein. Nay, and we cannot believe the omnipotence of God unless we believe His omnipresence. For seeing, as was observed before, nothing can act where it is not. If there were any space where God was not present, He would not be able to do anything there. Therefore, to deny the omnipresence of God implies likewise the denial of His omnipotence.
To set bounds to the one is undoubtedly to set bounds to the other also. Indeed, wherever we suppose Him not to be, there we suppose all His attributes to be in vain. He cannot exercise there either His justice or mercy, either His power or wisdom. An extra-mundane space, so to speak, where we suppose God not to be present, we must, of course, suppose Him to have no duration. But as it is supposed to be beyond the bounds of the creation, so it is beyond the bounds of the Creator's power. Such is the blasphemous absurdity which is implied in this supposition. But to all that is or can be said of the omnipresence of God, the world has one grand objection. They cannot see Him. And this is really at the root of all other objections.
This our blessed Lord observed long ago. Whom the world cannot receive, because they see him not. But is it not easy to reply, Can you see the wind? You cannot. But do you therefore deny its existence or its presence? You say, No, for I can perceive it by my other senses. But by which of your senses do you perceive your soul? Surely you do not deny either the existence or the presence of this. And yet it is not the object of your sight, or of any of your other senses. Suffice it, then, to consider that God is a spirit, as is our soul also. Consequently, him no man hath seen, or can see, with eyes of flesh and blood. Three. But allowing that God is here, as in every place, that he is about our bed and about our path, That he besets us behind and before, and lays his hand upon us, what inference should we draw from hence?
What use should we make of this awful consideration? Is it not meet and right to humble ourselves before the eyes of his majesty? Should we not labor continually to acknowledge his presence with reverence and godly fear? Not, indeed, with the fear of devils that believe and tremble, but with the fear of angels, with something similar to that which is felt by the inhabitants of heaven, when dark with excessive bright his skirts appear, yet dazzles heaven that brightest seraphim, approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. Secondly, if you believe that God is about your bed, and about your path, and spieth out all your ways, then take care not to do the least thing, not to speak the least word, not to indulge the least thought, which you have reason to think would offend him.
Suppose that a messenger of God, an angel, be now standing at your right hand, and fixing his eyes upon you, would you not take care to abstain from every word or action that you knew would offend him? Yea, suppose one of your mortal fellow-servants, suppose only a holy man stood by you. Would not you be extremely cautious how you conducted yourself, both in word and action? How much more cautious ought you to be when you know that not a holy man, not an angel of God, but God Himself, the Holy One that inhabiteth eternity, is inspecting your heart, your tongue, your hand, every moment? and that he himself will surely bring you into judgment for all you think and speak and act under the sun. In particular, if there is not a word in your tongue, not a syllable you speak, but he knoweth it altogether, how exact should you be in setting a watch before your mouth, and in keeping the door of your lips?
How wary does it behoove you to be in all your conversation, being forewarned by your judge, that by your words you shall be justified, Or by your words you shall be condemned. How cautious, lest any corrupt communication, any uncharitable, yea, unprofitable discourse, should proceed out of your mouth, instead of that which is good to the use of edifying, and meet to minister grace to the hearers. Yea, if God sees our hearts as well as our hands, and in all places, if he understandeth our thoughts long before they are clothed with words, how earnestly should we urge that petition. Search me, O Lord, and prove me. Try out my reins in my heart. Look well, if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.
Yea, how needful is it to work together with him in keeping our hearts with all diligence, till he hath cast down imaginations, evil reasonings, and everything that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and brought into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. On the other hand, if you are already listed under the great captain of your salvation, seeing you are continually under the eye of your captain, how zealous and active should you be to fight the good fight of faith and lay hold on eternal life, to endure hardship as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, to use all diligence to war a good warfare, and to do whatever is acceptable in his sight! How studious should you be to approve all your ways to his all-seeing eyes, that he may say to your hearts, What he will proclaim aloud in the great assembly of men and angels, well done, good and faithful servants.
In order to attain these glorious ends, spare no pains to preserve always a deep, a continual, a lively, and a joyful sense of his gracious presence. Never forget his comprehensive word to the great Father of the faithful. I am the Almighty, rather the All-Sufficient God. Walk before me, and be thou perfect. Cheerfully expect that He before whom you stand will ever guide you with His eye, will support you by His guardian hand, will keep you from all evil, and when you have suffered a while, He will make you perfect, will establish, strengthen, and settle you, and then preserve you unblameable unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Portsmouth, August 12th, 1788.
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4 04 - The Rich Man and Lazarus 27:38
Third through fifth series. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, The Rich Man and Lazarus. If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. How strange a paradox is this! How contrary to the common apprehension of men! Who is so confirmed in unbelief as not to think, If one came to me from the dead, I should be effectually persuaded to repent? But this passage affords us a more strange saying.
You cannot serve God and mammon. No, why not? Why cannot we serve both? Will a true servant of mammon say? Accordingly, the Pharisees, who supposed they served God, and did cordially serve mammon, derided him. Eximecterison, a word expressive of the deepest contempt. But he said, Luke 16, 15, Ye are they who justify yourselves before men, but God knoweth your hearts, and that which is highly esteemed among men is very commonly an abomination before God, a terrible proof of which our Lord subjoins in the remaining part of the chapter. But is the subsequent account merely a parable or a real history? It has been believed by many, and roundly asserted, to be a mere parable. because of one or two circumstances therein which are not easy to be accounted for.
In particular, it is hard to conceive how a person in Hell could hold conversation with one in Paradise. But admitting we cannot account for this, will it overbalance an express assertion of our Lord, there was, says our Lord, a certain rich man. Was there not? Did such a man never exist? And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus. Was there or was there not? Is it not bold enough positively to deny what our blessed Lord positively affirms? Therefore we cannot reasonably doubt, but the whole narration, with all its circumstances, is exactly true. And Theophilacte, one of the ancient commentators on the scriptures, observes upon the text that, according to the tradition of the Jews, Lazarus lived at Jerusalem.
I purpose, with God's assistance, first to explain this history, Second, to apply it, and thirdly, to prove the truth of that way-descendence with which it is concluded, namely, if they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. I. And first, I will endeavor with God's assistance to explain this history. There was a certain rich man, and doubtless on that very account, highly esteemed among men, who was clothed in purple and fine linen, and consequently esteemed the more highly, Both as appearing suitably to his fortune and as an encourager of trade, and fared sumptuously every day. Here was another reason for his being highly esteemed, his hospitality and generosity, both by those who frequently sat at his table and the tradesmen that furnished it.
And there was a certain beggar, one of the lowest line of human infamy, named Lazarus, according to the Greek termination, in Hebrew, Eleazar. From his name we may gather that he was of no mean family, although this branch of it was at present so reduced. It is probable he was well known in the city, and it was no scandal to him to be named, who was laid at his gate, although no pleasing spectacle, so that one might wonder he was suffered to lie there, full of sores, of running ulcers, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. So the complicated affliction of poverty, pain, and want of bread lay upon him at once. But it does not appear that any creature took the least notice of the despicable wretch.
Only the dogs came and licked his sores, all the comfort which this world afforded him. But see the change, the beggar died. Here ended poverty and pain. He was carried by angels, nobler servants than any that attended the rich man, into Abraham's bosom. So the Jews commonly termed what our blessed Lord styles paradise, the place where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest, the receptacle of holy souls from death to the resurrection. It is indeed very generally supposed that the souls of good men, as soon as they are discharged from the body, go directly to heaven. But this opinion has not the least foundation in the oracles of God. On the contrary, our Lord says to Mary after the resurrection, Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father in heaven.
But he had been in paradise according to his promise to the penitent thief. This day shalt thou be with me in paradise. Hence it is plain that paradise is not heaven. It is indeed, if we may be allowed the expression, the antechamber of heaven, where the souls of the righteous remain till, after the general judgment, they are received into glory. But see the scene change again. The rich man also died. What? Must rich men also die? Must they fall, like one of the people? Is there no help? A rich man in London some years ago, when the physician told him he must die, gnashed his teeth, and clenched his fist, and cried out vehemently, God, God, I won't die. But he died with the very words in his mouth, and was buried, doubtless with pomp enough suitable to his quality, although we do not find that there was then, in all the world, That exquisite instance of human folly, that senseless cruel mockery of a poor putrefying carcass, what we term lying in state.
And in hell he lifted up his eyes. Oh, what a change! How is the mighty fallen? But the word which is here rendered, hell, does not always mean the place of the damned. It is, literally, the invisible world, and is of very wide extent, including the receptacle of separate spirits, whether good or bad. But here it evidently means that region of Hades where the souls of wicked men reside, as appears from the following words, being in torment, in order, say some, to atone for the sins committed while in the body, as well as to purify the soul from all its inherent sin. Just so, the eminent heathen poet, nearly two thousand years ago, nices est, multa du concretum modus inulacer meris, ergo, Exorcinter Poenas.
Alliae Panduntur Inanis. Suspense Adventos. Alliae Sub Gurgit Fasto. In factum Eluitur Celes. Ot Exuritur Igni. This quotation from Virgil. Aeneid Six. Seven Thirty Seven to Seven Forty Two. Even when those bodies are to death resigned, some old inherent spots are left behind. A sullying tincture of corporeal stains, deep in the substance of the soul remains. Thus are her splendors dimmed and crusted o'er with those dark vices that she knew before. For this the souls of various penance pay, to purge the taint of former crimes away. Some in the sweeping breezes are refined, and hung on high to whiten in the wind. Some cleanse their stains beneath the gushing streams. And some rise glorious from the searching flames.
See the near resemblance between the ancient and the modern purgatory. Only in the ancient, the heathen purgatory, both fire, water, and air were employed in expiating sin and purifying the soul. Whereas in the mystic purgatory, fire alone is supposed sufficient both to purge and expiate. Fain hope. No suffering but that of Christ has any power to expiate sin. And no fire but that of love can purify the soul, either in time or in eternity. He seeth Abraham afar off, far indeed, as far as from hell to paradise, perhaps tenfold the length of this terrene. But how could this be? I cannot tell, but it is by no means incredible, for who knows how far an angel kens, or a spirit divested of flesh and blood, and Lazarus in his bosom?
It is well known that, in the ancient feasts among the Jews, as well as the Romans, the guests did not sit down at the table, as it is now the custom to do, but lay on couches, each having a pillow at his left side, on which he supported his elbow, and he that sat next to him on the right side was said to lie in his bosom. It was in this sense that the Apostle John lay in his master's bosom. Accordingly, the expression of Lazarus lying in Abraham's bosom implies that he was in the highest place of honour and happiness. And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me. Thou fool, what can Abraham do? What can any creature, yea, all the creation, do to break the bars of the bottomless pit?
Whoever would escape from the place of torment, let him cry to God, the Father of mercy. Nay, but the time has passed. Justice now takes place and rejoices over mercy. And send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame. How exceeding modest a request is this! He does not say that he may take me out of this flame. He does not ask that he may bring me a cup of water, or as much as he might hold in the palm of his hand, but barely, that he may dip, were it but, the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue. No, it cannot be. No mercy can enter within the shades of hell. But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivest thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things, but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.
Perhaps these words may supply us with an answer to an important question. How came this rich man to be in hell? It does not appear that he was a wicked man, in the common sense of the word, that he was a drunkard, a common swearer, a sabbath-breaker, or that he lived in any known sin. It is probable he was a Pharisee, and as such was, in all the outward parts of religion, blameless. How then did he come into the place of torment? If there was no other reason to be assigned, there is a sufficient one implied in those words. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. Thou in thy lifetime receivest thy good things, the things which thou hadst chosen for thy happiness. Thou hadst set thy affection on things beneath, and thou hadst thy reward.
Thou didst receive the portion which thou hadst chosen, and canst have no portion above. And likewise Lazarus' evil things, not his evil things, for he did not choose them, but they were chosen for him by the wise providence of God, and now he is comforted, while thou art tormented. But besides all this there is a great gulf fixed, a great chasm, a vast vacuity. Can any tell us what this is? What is the nature? What are the bounds of it? Nay, none of the children of men, none but an inhabitant of the invisible world, so that they who would pass from hence to you cannot, neither can they pass to us that would come from thence. Undoubtedly, a disembodied spirit could pass through any space whatever, but the will of God determining that none should go across that gulf is a bound which no creature can pass.
Then he said, I pray thee, therefore, Father, that thou wouldst send him to my father's house, for I have five brethren, that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. Two entirely different motives have been assigned for this extraordinary request. Some ascribe it wholly to self-love, to a fear of the bitter reproaches which, he might easily suppose, his brethren would pour upon him, if, in consequence of his example, and perhaps advice. They came to the same place of torment. Others have imputed it to a nobler motive. They suppose as the misery of the wicked will not be complete till the day of judgment, so neither will their wickedness. Consequently, they believe that till that time they may retain some sparks of natural affection, and they, not improbably, imagine that this may have occasioned his desire to prevent their sharing his own torment.
Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets. Let them hear them. And he said, Nay, Father Abraham, but if one went to them from the dead, they will repent. Who would not be of the same opinion? Might not any one reasonably suppose that a message solemnly delivered by one that came from the dead must have an irresistible force? Who would not think, I myself could not possibly withstand such a preacher of repentance? Two. This, I conceive, to be the meaning of the words. I will now endeavor, with the help of God, to apply them, and I beseech you, brethren, while I am doing this, to suffer the word of exhortation. The more closely these things are applied to your souls, the more ye may profit thereby.
There was a certain man, and it is no more sinful to be rich than to be poor, but it is dangerous beyond expression. Therefore I remind all of you that are of this number, that have the conveniences of life, and something over, that ye walk upon slippery ground. Ye continually tread on snares and deaths. Ye are every moment on the verge of hell. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for you to enter in the kingdom of heaven, who was clothed in purple and fine linen. And some may have a plea for this. Our Lord mentions them that dwell in kings' houses as wearing gorgeous that is splendid apparel, and does not blame them for it. But certainly this is no plea for any that do not dwell in kings' houses.
Let all of them therefore beware how they follow his example who is lifting up his eyes in hell. Let us follow the advice of the apostle, being adorned with good works, and with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. He fared sumptuously every day. Reconcile this with religion who can. I know how plausibly the prophets of smooth kings can talk in favor of hospitality, of making our friends welcome, Of keeping a handsome table to do honour to religion, of promoting trade and the like. But God is not mocked. He will not be put off with such pretences as these. Whoever thou art that sharest in the sin of this rich man, were it no other than faring sumptuously every day, thou shalt as surely be a sharer in his punishment, except thou repent, as if thou wert already crying for a drop of water to cool thy tongue.
And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus who was laid at his gate full of sores and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. But it seems both the rich man and his guests were too religious to relieve common beggars, a sin of which pious Mr. H. so earnestly warns his readers, and an admonition of the same kind I have read on the gate of the good city of Winchester, I wish the gentleman who placed it there had seen a little circumstance which occurred some years since. At Epworth in Lincolnshire, the town where I was born, a beggar came to a house in the marketplace and begged a morsel of bread, saying she was very hungry. The master bid her be gone for a lazy jade.
She called at a second and begged a little small beer, saying she was very thirsty. She had much the same answer. At a third door she begged a little water, saying she was very faint. But this man also was too conscientious to encourage common beggars. The boy, seeing a ragged creature turn from door to door, began to pelt her with snowballs. She looked up, lay down, and died. Would you wish to be the man who refused that poor wretch a morsel of bread or a cup of water? Moreover, the dogs came and licked his sores, being more compassionate than their master. And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried of angels into Abraham's bosom. Hear this, all ye that are poor in this world, ye that many times have not food to eat or raiment to put on, ye that have not a place where to lay your head unless it be a cold garret or a foul and damp cellar.
Ye are now reduced to solicit the cold hand of charity. Yet lift up your load, it shall not always be thus. I love you, I pity you, I admire you, when in patience ye possess your souls, yet I cannot help you. But there is one that can, the father of the fatherless and the husband of the widow. The poor crieth unto the Lord, and he heareth them, and delivereth him out of all his troubles. Yet a little while, if ye truly turn to him, his angels shall carry you into Abraham's bosom. There ye shall hunger no more, and thirst no more. Ye shall feel no more sorrow or pain. But the Lamb shall wipe away all tears from your eyes, and lead you forth beside fountains of living waters. But see, the scene is changed.
The rich man also died. What, in spite of his riches? Probably sooner than he desired. For how just is that word, O Death, how bitter art thou to a man that is at rest in the midst of his possessions. However, if that would be a comfort, he was buried. But how little did it signify whether he was laid under a lofty monument, or among, graves with bending, osier-bound, that nameless heave the crumbled ground. And what followed? In hell he lifted his eyes. This, it is certain, ye need not do. God does not require it of you. He willeth not that any should perish. Ye cannot, unless by your own willful choice, intruding into those regions of woe which God did not prepare for you, but for the devil and his angels.
See the scene changed again. He seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he knew him, although perhaps he had only cast a glance at him while he lay at the gate. Is any of you in doubt whether we shall know one another in the other world? Here your doubts may receive a full solution. If a soul in Hell knew Lazarus in Paradise as far off as he was, certainly those that are together in Paradise will perfectly know each other. And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy upon me. I do not remember in all the Bible any prayer made to a saint but this. And if we observe who made it, a man in hell, and with what success, we shall hardly wish to follow the precedent. Oh, let us cry for mercy to God, not to man.
And it is our wisdom to cry now, while we are in the land of mercy, otherwise it will be too late. I am tormented in this flame, tormented, observed, not purified. Vain hope that fire can purify a spirit. As well might you expect water to cleanse the soul as fire. But God forbid that you or I should make the trial. And Abraham said, Son, remember, Mark how Abraham accosts a damned spirit, and shall we behave with less tenderness to any of the children of God, because they are not of our opinion? Thou in thy lifetime receivest thy good things. O beware it be not your case, and not the things of the world thy good things. The chief objects of thy desire and pursuit? Are they not the chief joy? If so, thou art in a very dangerous state, in the very condition which Stuyves was in upon earth.
Do not then dream that all is well, because thou art highly esteemed among men, because thou doest no harm, or doest much good, or attendest all the ordinances of God. What is all of this? What is all this if thy soul cleaves to the dust, if thy heart is in the world? If thou lovest the creature more than the creator. How striking are the next words! Beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that they who would pass from us to you cannot. Neither can they pass to us that would come from thence. This was the text that occasioned the epitaph on a right honorable infidel and gamester. Here lies a Dicer, long in doubt, if death could kill the soul or not. Here ends his doubtfulness at last, convinced, but awe.
The die is cast. But, blessed be God, your die is not cast yet. You are not past the great gulf, but have it still in your power to choose whether you will be attended by angels or fiends when your soul quits its earthly mansion. Now stretch out your hand to eternal life or eternal death, and God says, Be it unto thee, even as thou wilt. Being repulsed in this, he makes another request. I pray thee, send him to my father's house, for I have five brethren, that he may testify to them. It is not impossible that other unhappy spirits may wish well to the relations they have left behind them, but this is the accepted time for them as well as for us. Let us then address them ourselves, and let us beg our living friends to give us all the help they can, without waiting for assistance from the inhabitants of another world.
Let us earnestly exhort them to use the helps they have, to hear Moses and the prophets. We are indeed apt to think, like that unhappy spirit, if one went to them from the dead they will repent. But Abraham said, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. Three, I am in the third place to prove the truth of this weighty sentence which I will do, first briefly, and then more at large. And first to express the matter briefly, it is certain that no human spirit, while it is in the body, can persuade another to repent. Can work in him an entire change, both of heart and life, a change from universal wickedness to universal holiness. And suppose that spirit, discharged from the body, it is no more able to do this than it was before.
No power less than that which created it at first can create any soul anew. No angel, much less any human spirit, whether in the body or out of the body, can bring one soul from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. It might very possibly frighten him to death, or to the belief of any speculative truth, but it could not frighten him into spiritual life. God alone can raise those that are dead in trespasses and sins. In order to prove more at large, that if men hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be effectually persuaded to repent, though one rose from the dead, I will propose a case of this kind, with all the advantages that can be conceived. Suppose, then, one that does not hear Moses and the prophets, that does not believe the scripture to be of God, to be fast asleep in his bed, and suddenly to awake while the clock was just striking one.
He is surprised to observe the chamber as light as if it were noonday. He looks up and sees one whom he perfectly knew standing at his bedside. Though a little surprised at first, he quickly recollects himself and has the courage to ask, Are not you my friend who died at such a time? He answers. I am. I am come from God with a message to you. You have often wished you could see one risen from the dead, and said, Then you would repent. You have your wish, and I am ordered to inform you. You are seeking death in the error of your life. If you die in the state you are now in, you will die eternally. I warn you in his name that the scriptures are the real word of God, that from the moment you die you will be remarkably happy or unspeakably miserable.
That you cannot be happy hereafter unless you are wholly here, which cannot be unless you are born again. Receive this call from God. Eternity is at hand. Repent, and believe the gospel. Having spoken these words, he vanishes away, and the room is dark as it was before. One may easily believe it would be impossible for him not to be convinced for the present. He would sleep no more that night, and would, as soon as possible, tell his family what he had seen and heard. Not content with this, he would be impatient to tell it to his former companions, and probably, observing the earnestness with which he spoke, they would not then contradict him. They would say to each other, Give him time to cool, then he will be a reasonable man again.
Now it is constantly found that impressions made on the memory gradually decay, that they grow weaker and weaker in process of time, and the traces of them fainter and fainter. So it must be in this case, which his companions observing would not fail to seize the opportunity. They would speak to this effect. It was a strange account you gave us some time since, the more so because we know you to be a sensible man and not inclined to enthusiasm. But perhaps you have not fully considered how difficult it is, in some cases, to distinguish our dreams from our waking thoughts. Has any one yet been able to find out an infallible criterion between them? Is it not then possible that you may have been asleep when this lively impression was made on your mind?
When he had been brought to think, possibly, it might be a dream, they would soon persuade him, probably it was so, and not long after, to believe it certainly was a dream, so little would it avail that one came from the dead. It could not be expected to be otherwise, for what was the effect which was wrought upon him? He was exceedingly frightened. This fright made way for a deeper conviction of the truth than declared. But his heart was not changed. None but the Almighty could effect this. Therefore, the bias of his soul was still set the wrong way. He still loved the world, and, consequently, wished that the scripture was not true. How easily, then, as the fright wore off, would he again believe what he wished?
The conclusion, then, is plain and undeniable. If men hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded to repent and believe the gospel, though one rose from the dead. We may add one consideration more which brings the matter to a full issue. Before, or about the same time, that Lazarus was carried into Abraham's bosom, another Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, was actually raised from the dead. But were even those who believed the fact persuaded to repent? So far from it... that they took counsel to kill Lazarus as well as his master, and then with the fond imagination that those who hear not Moses and the prophets would be persuaded, though on from the dead. From the whole we may draw this general conclusion, that standing revelation is the best means of rational conviction, far preferable to any of those extraordinary means which some imagine would be more effectual.
It is therefore our wisdom to avail ourselves of this, to make full use of it, So that it may be a lantern to our feet, and a light in all our paths. Let us take care that our whole heart and life be conformable thereto, that it be the constant rule of all our tempers, all our words, and all our actions. So shall we preserve in all things the testimony of a good conscience toward God, and when our course is finished, we too shall be carried by angels into Abraham's bosom. Birmingham March 25th. 1788.
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5 05 - The Difference Between Walking by Sight, and Walking by Faith 25:47
The difference between walking by sight and walking by faith. We walk by faith, not by sight. 2nd Corinthians 5 7. How short is this description of real Christians, and yet how exceeding full. It comprehends, it sums up, The whole experience of those that are truly such, from the time they are born of God till they remove into Abraham's bosom. For who are the we that are here spoken of? All that are true Christian believers. I say Christian, not Jewish believers. All that are not only servants, but children of God. All that have All these, and these alone, can say, we walk by faith and not by sight. But before we can possibly walk by faith, we must live by faith and not by sight. And to all real Christians our Lord saith, Because I live, ye live also.
Ye live a life which the world, whether learned or unlearned, know not of. You that, like the world, were dead in trespasses and sin, hath he quickened and made alive, given you new senses, spiritual senses, senses exercised to discern spiritual good and evil. In order thoroughly to understand this important truth, it may be proper to consider the whole matter. All the children of men that are not born of God walk by sight, having no higher principle. By sight, that is, by sense, a part being put for the whole, the sight for all the senses, the rather because it is more noble and more extensive than any or all the rest. There are but few objects which we can discern by the three inferior senses of taste, smell, and feeling, and none of these can take any cognizance of its object unless it be brought into a direct contact with it.
Hearing, it is true, has a larger sphere of action and gives us some knowledge of things that are distant. But how small is that distance, suppose it were fifty or a hundred miles, compared to that between the Earth and the Sun? And what is even this in comparison of the distance of the Sun and Moon and the fixed stars? Yet the sight continually takes knowledge of objects even at this amazing distance. By sight, we take knowledge of the visible world, from the surface of the Earth to the region of the fixed stars. But what is the world visible to us but a speck of creation, compared to the whole universe, to the invisible world, that part of the creation which we cannot see at all by reason of its distance, in the place of which, through the imperfection of our senses, we are presented with an universal blank.
But beside these innumerable objects which we cannot see by reason of their distance, Have we not sufficient ground to believe that there are innumerable others of too delicate a nature to be discerned by any of our senses? Do not all men of unprejudiced reason allow the same thing? A small number of materialists or atheists I cannot term men of reason. That there is an invisible world, naturally such, as well as a visible one? But which of our senses is fine enough to take the least knowledge of this? We can no more perceive any part of this by our sight than by our feeling. Should we allow with the ancient poet that millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep?
Should we allow that the Great Spirit, the Father of all, filleth both heaven and earth? Yet is the finest of our senses utterly incapable of perceiving either him or them. All our external senses are evidently adapted to this external, visible world. They are designed to serve us only while we sojourn here, while we dwell in these houses of clay. They have nothing to do with the invisible world. They are not adapted to it. And they can take no more cognizance of the eternal than of the invisible world, although we are as fully assured of the existence of this as of anything in the present world. We cannot think death puts a period to our being. The body indeed returns to dust, but the soul, being of a nobler nature, is not affected thereby.
There is, therefore, an eternal world. Of what kind soever it be. But how shall we attain the knowledge of this? What will teach us to draw aside the veil that hangs twixt mortal and immortal being? We all know the vast, the unbounded prospect lies before us, but we are not constrained to add, yet clouds alas, and darkness rest upon it. The most excellent of our senses, it is undeniably plain, can give us no assistance herein. And what can our boasted reason do? It is now universally allowed. Nihil es in intellectu quad non fuet prius in sensu. Nothing is in the understanding which was not first perceived by some of the senses. Consequently, the understanding Having here nothing to work upon, can afford us no help at all, so that, in spite of all the information we can gain, either from sense or reason, both the invisible and eternal world are unknown to all that walk by sight.
But is there no help? Must they remain in total darkness concerning the invisible and the eternal world? We cannot affirm this. Even the heathens did not all remain in total darkness concerning them. Some few rays of light have in all ages and nations gleamed through the shade. Some light they derive from various fountains touching the invisible world. The heavens declare the glory of God, though not to their outward sight. The firmament showed to the eyes of their understanding the existence of their Maker. From the creation they inferred the being of a Creator, powerful and wise, just and merciful. And hence they concluded, there must be an eternal world, a future state, to commence after the present, wherein the justice of God in punishing wicked men, and His mercy in rewarding the righteous, will be openly and undeniably displayed in the sight of all intelligent creatures.
We may likewise reasonably suppose that some traces of knowledge, both with regard to the invisible and the eternal world, were delivered down from Noah and his children, both to their immediate and remote descendants. And however these were obscured or disguised by the addition of numberless fables, yet something of truth was still mingled with them, and these streaks of light prevented utter darkness. Add to this that God never, In any age or nation left himself quite without a witness in the hearts of men. But while he gave them rain and fruitful seasons, imparted some imperfect knowledge of the giver. He is the true light that still, in some degree, enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world.
But all these lights put together availed no farther than to produce a faint twilight. It gave them, even the most enlightened of them, no elinkos, no demonstration, no demonstrative conviction either of the invisible or of the eternal world. Our philosophical poet justly terms Socrates the wisest of all moral men, that is, of all that were not favored with divine revelation. Yet what evidence had he of another world when he addressed those that had condemned him to death? And now, O ye judges, ye are going to live, and I am going to die. Which of these is best, God knows. But I suppose no man does. Alas, what a confession is this! Is this all the evidence that poor dying Socrates had either of an invisible or an eternal world?
And yet even this is preferable to the light of the great and good Emperor Adrian. Remember, ye modern heathens, and copy after his pathetic address to his parting soul. For fear I should puzzle you with Latin, I give it you in Prior's fine translation. Poor little pretty fluttering thing! Must we no longer live together? And dost thou prune thy trembling wing? To take the flight thou know'st not whither. Thy pleasing vein, thy humorous folly, lies all neglected, all forgot, and pensive, wavering melancholy, thou hopest and fear'st, thou know'st not what. Thou know'st not what. True, there is no knowledge of what was to be hoped or feared after death, till the sun of righteousness arose to dispel all their vain conjectures.
And brought life and immortality, that is, immortal life, to light through the gospel. Then, and not till then, unless in some rare instances, God revealed, unveiled the invisible world. He then revealed Himself to the children of men. The Father revealed the Son in their hearts, and the Son revealed the Father. He that of old time commanded light to shine out of darkness shined in their hearts and enlightened them with the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. It is where sense can be of no farther use that faith comes in to our help. It is the grand desideratum. It does what none of the senses can. No, not with all the helps that art hath invented. All our instruments, however improved by the skill and labor of so many successful ages, do not enable us to make the least discovery of these unknown regions.
They barely serve the occasions for which they were formed in the present visible world. How different is the case, how vast the preeminence of them that walk by faith, God having opened the eyes of their understanding, Pours divine light into their soul, whereby they are unable to see him that is invisible, to see God, and the things of God. What their eye had not seen, nor their ear heard, neither had it entered into their heart to conceive. God, from time to time, reveals to them, by the unction of the Holy One, which teacheth them of all things. Having entered into the Holiest by the blood of Jesus by that new and living way, and being joined into the General Assembly and Church of the Firstborn, and unto God the Judge of all, and Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant, each of these can say, I live not, but Christ liveth in me.
Galatians 2.20 I now live that life which is hid with Christ in God, and when Christ, who is my life, shall appear, then I shall likewise appear with Him in glory. They that live by faith walk by faith. But what is implied in this? They regulate all their judgments concerning good and evil, not with reference to visible and temporal things, but to things invisible and eternal. They think visible things to be of small value, because they pass away like a dream. But on the contrary, they account invisible things to be of high value, because they will never pass away. Whatever is invisible is eternal. The things that are not seen do not perish. So the apostle, the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal.
Therefore, they that walk by faith do not desire the things which are seen, neither are they the object of their pursuit. They set their affections on things above, not on things on the earth. They seek only the things which are where Jesus sitteth at the right hand of God, because they know the things that are seen are temporal, passing away like a shadow. Therefore, They look not at them. They desire them not. They account them as nothing. But they look at the things which are not seen, that are eternal, that never pass away. By these they form their judgment of all things. They judge them to be good or evil, as they promote or hinder their welfare, not in time, but in eternity. They weigh whatever occurs in this balance.
What influence has it on my eternal state? They regulate all their tempers and passions, all their desires, joys, and fears, by this standard. They regulate all their thoughts and designs, all their words and actions, so as to prepare them for that invisible and eternal world to which they are shortly going. They do not dwell, but only sojourn here. Brethren, are you of this number, who are now here before God? Do you see Him that is invisible? Have you faith, living faith, the faith of a child? Can you say, the life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God? Observe the question. I do not ask whether you curse or swear or profane the Sabbath or live in any outward sin. I do not ask whether you do good, more or less, or attend all the ordinances of God.
But suppose you are blameless in all these respects. I ask in the name of God, by what standard do you judge of the value of things? By the visible or the invisible world? Bring the matter to an issue in a single instance. Which do you judge best? That your son should be a pious cobbler or a profane lord? Which appears to you most eligible? That your daughter should be a child of God and walk on foot? Or a child of the devil, and ride in a coach and six. When the question is concerning marrying your daughter, if you consider her body more than her soul, take knowledge of yourself. You are in the way to hell, and not to heaven, for you walk by sight, and not by faith. I do not ask whether you live in any outward sin or neglect, but do you seek in the general tenor of your life the things that are above?
Or the things that are below? Do you set your affection on things above, or on things of the earth? If on the latter you are as surely in the way of destruction as a thief or a common drunkard, my dear friends, let every man, every woman among you deal honestly with yourselves. Ask your own heart, what am I seeking day by day? What am I desiring? What am I pursuing, earth or heaven? The things that are seen, or the things that are not seen. What is your object, God or the world? As the Lord liveth, if the world is your object, still all your religion is vain. See then, my dear brethren, that from this time at least ye choose the better part. Let your judgment of all the things round about you be according to the real value of things, with a reference to the invisible See that you judge everything fit to be pursued or shunned according to the influence it will have on your eternal state.
See that your affections, your desire, your joy, your hope, be set not on transient objects, not on things that fly as a shadow, that pass away like a dream. But on those that are incapable of change, that are incorruptible and fade not away, those that remain the same when heaven and earth flee away and there is no place found for them. See that in all you think, speak, or do, the eye of your soul be single, fixed on him that is invisible, and the glories that shall be revealed. Then shall your whole body be full of light, your whole soul shall enjoy the light of God's countenance, and you shall continually see the light of the glorious love of God in the face of Jesus Christ. See in particular that all your desire be unto Him and unto the remembrance of His name.
Beware of foolish and hurtful desires such as arise from any visible or temporal thing. All these St. John warns us of under that general term love of the world. 1 John 2 15 It is not so much to men of the world as to the children of God he gives that important direction. Love not the world, neither the things of the world. Give no place to the desire of the flesh, the gratification of the outward senses, whether of the taste or any other. Give no place to the desire of the eye, the internal sense or imagination, by gratifying it either by grand things or beautiful or uncommon. Give no place to the pride of life, the desire of wealth, of pomp, or of the honor that cometh of men. St. John confirms this advice by a consideration parallel to that observation which St.
Paul had made to the Corinthians. For the world and the fashion of it passeth away. 1 John 2, 16, 17. The fashion of it, all worldly objects, business, pleasures, cares, whatever now attracts our regard or attention, passeth away, is in the very act of passing, and will return no more. Therefore desire none of these fleeting things, but that glory which abideth forever. Observe well. This is religion, and this alone. This alone is true Christian religion. Not this or that opinion, or system of opinions, be they ever so true, ever so scriptural. It is true, this is commonly called faith, but those who suppose it to be religion are given up to a strong delusion to believe a lie. And if they suppose it to be a sure passport to heaven, Are in the high road to hell.
Observe well. Religion is not harmlessness, which a careful observer of mankind properly terms hellish harmlessness, as it sends thousands to the bottomless pit. It is not morality, excellent as that is when it is built on a right foundation, loving faith, but when otherwise it is of no value in the sight of God. It is not formality, the most exact observance of all the ordinances of God. This, too, unless it be built on the right foundation, is no more pleasing to God than the cutting off a dog's neck. No, religion is no less than living in eternity and walking in eternity, and hereby walking in the love of God and man in lowliness, meekness, and resignation. This, and this alone, is that life which is hid with Christ in God.
He alone who experiences this dwells in God and God in him. This alone is setting the crown upon Christ's head, and do It will easily be observed that this is the very thing that men of the world call enthusiasm, a word just fit for their purpose. Because no man can tell either the meaning or even the derivation of it. If it has any determinate sense, it means a species of religious madness. Hence, when you speak your experience, they immediately cry out, Much religion hath made thee mad. And all that you experience, either of the invisible or of the eternal world, they suppose to be only the waking dreams of a heated imagination. It cannot be otherwise when men born blind take upon them to reason concerning light and colors.
They will readily pronounce those to be insane who affirm the existence of those things whereof they have no conception. From all that has been said, it may be seen with the utmost clearness what is the nature of that fashionable thing called dissipation. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. It is the very quintessence of atheism. It is artificial, added to natural ungodliness. It is the art of forgetting God, of being altogether without God in the world, the art of excluding Him if not out of the world He has created, yet out of the minds of all His intelligent creatures. It is a total studied inattention to the whole invisible and eternal world. More especially to death, the gate of eternity, and to the important consequences of death, heaven, and hell.
This is the real nature of dissipation, and, is it so harmless a thing as it is usually thought? It is one of the choicest instruments of destroying immortal spirits that was ever forged in the magazines of hell. It has been the means of plunging myriads of souls That might have enjoyed the glory of God into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. It blots out all religion at one stroke and levels man with the beasts that perish. All ye that fear God flee from dissipation. Dread and abhor the very name of it. Labor to have God in all your thoughts, to have eternity ever in your eye. Look continually, not at the things that are seen, but at the things which are not seen. Let your hearts be fixed there, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God, that, whensoever He calleth you, an entrance may be ministered unto you abundantly into His everlasting kingdom.
of Section 5.
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6 06 - The Unity of the Divine Being 22:20
The Unity of the Divine Being. There is one God. Mark 12, 32. And as there is one God, so there is one religion and one happiness for all men. God never intended that there should be any more, and it is not possible there should. Indeed, in another sense, as the apostle observes, there are gods many and lords many, as the heathen nations had their gods, and many hostholds of them. And generally, the more polished they were, the more gods they heaped up to themselves. But to us, to all that are favored with the Christian revelation, there is but one God who declares himself. Is there any God besides me? There is none. I know not any. But who can search out this God to perfection? None of the creatures that he has made.
Only some of his attributes he has been pleased to reveal to us in his word. Hence we learn that God is an eternal being. His goings forth are from everlasting, and will continue to everlasting. As He ever was, so He ever will be. As there was no beginning to His existence, so there will be no end. This is universally allowed to be contained in His very name, Jehovah, which the Apostle John accordingly renders, He that was, and that is, and that is to come. Perhaps it would be as proper to say, He is from everlasting to everlasting.
Nearly allied to the eternity of God is His omnipresence. As He exists through infinite duration, so He cannot but exist through infinite space, according to His own question, equivalent to the strongest assertion. Do not I fill the heaven and earth, saith the Lord? Heaven and earth in the Hebrew idiom, implying the whole universe, which therefore, according to His own declaration, is filled with His presence. This one eternal, omnipresent being is likewise all-perfect. He has, from eternity to eternity, all the perfections and infinitely more than it ever did or ever can enter into the heart of man to conceive, yea, infinitely more than the angels in heaven can conceive. These perfections we usually term the attributes of God.
And He is omnipotent as well as omnipresent. There can be no bounds to His power than to His presence. He hath a mighty arm, strong is His hand, and high is His right hand. He doeth whatsoever pleased Him, in the heavens, the earth, the sea, and in all deep places. With men we know many things are impossible, but not with God. With Him all things are possible, whensoever He willeth, to do is present with Him. The omniscience of God is a clear and necessary consequence of His omnipresence. If He is present in every part of the universe, He cannot but know whatever is or is done there. According to the words of St. James, known unto God are all His works, and the works of every creature, from the beginning of the world, or rather, as the phrase literally implies, from eternity.
His eyes are not only over all the earth, beholding the evil and the good. But likewise, over the whole creation, yea, the paths of the uncreated night. Is there any difference between his knowledge and his wisdom, if there be is not his knowledge the more general term, at least according to our weak conceptions? And is wisdom a particular branch of it, namely the knowing the end of everything that exists, and the means of applying it to that end? Holiness is another of the attributes of the Almighty, all-wise God. He is infinitely distant from every touch of evil. He is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. He is a God of unblemished justice and truth, but above all is His mercy. This we may easily learn from that beautiful passage in the thirty-third and four chapters of Exodus.
And Moses said, I beseech thee, show me thy glory. And the Lord descended in the cloud, and proclaimed the name of the Lord. The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, and forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. This God is a spirit, not having such a body, such parts or passions as men have. It was the opinion both of the ancient Jews and the ancient Christians that He alone is a pure spirit, totally separate from all matter. Whereas they suppose all other spirits, even the highest angels, even cherubim and seraphim, dwell in material vehicles, though of an exceeding light and subtile substance. At that point of duration which the infinite wisdom of God sought to be the most proper, for reasons which lie hid in the abyss of his own understanding, not to be phantomed by any finite mind, God called into being all that is, created the heavens and the earth, Together with all that they contained, all things were created by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made.
He created man in particular, after His own image, to be a picture of His own eternity. When He had raised man from the dust of the earth, He breathed into him an immortal spirit. Hence He is peculiarly called the Father of our spirits, yea, the Father of the spirits of all flesh. He made all things, as the wise man observes for himself, for his glory they were created, not as if he needed anything, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things. He made all things to be happy, he made man to be happy, in himself. He is the proper centre of spirits, for whom every created spirit was made. So true is that well-known saying of the ancient fathers, Phicistinos ad te, et illiquitum est cor nostrum donec requisciat in te.
Thou hast made us for thyself, and our heart cannot rest till it resteth in thee. This observation gives us a clear answer to that question in the assembly's catechism. For what end did God create man? The answer is, to glorify and enjoy him forever. This is undoubtedly true, but is it quite clear, especially to men of ordinary capacities? Do the generality of common people understand that expression, to glorify God? No, no more than they understand Greek, and it is altogether above the capacity of children to whom we can scarcely ever speak plain enough. Now is not this the very principle that should be inculcated upon every human creature? You are made to be happy in God. As soon as every reason dawns, should not every parent, as soon as a child begins to talk or to run alone, say something of this kind?
See what is that which shines so over your head, that we call the sun. See how bright it is. Feel how it warms you. It makes the grass to spring and everything to grow. But God made the sun. The sun could not shine, nor warm, nor do anything without him. In this plain and familiar way, a wise parent might, many times in a day, say something of God, particularly insisting. He made you, and he made you to be happy in him, and nothing else can make you happy. We cannot press this too soon. If you say, Nay, but they cannot understand you when they are so young, I answer, No, nor when they are fifty years old, unless God opens their understanding. And can he not do this at any age? Indeed, this should be pressed on every human creature, young and old, the more earnestly and diligently because so exceeding few, even of those that are called Christians, seem to know anything about it.
Many indeed think of being happy with God in heaven, but the being happy in God on earth never entered into their thoughts. The less so because from the time they come to the world, they are surrounded with idols. Such, in turn, are all the things that are seen, whereas God is not seen, which all promise a happiness independent of God. Indeed, it is true that, upright both in heart and will, we by our God were made, but we turned from good to ill, and over the creature's trade, multiplied our wandering thought, which was first fixed on God alone, and ten thousand objects sought the bliss we lost in one. These idols, these rivals of God, are innumerable, but they may be nearly reduced to three parts.
First, objects of sense, such as gratify one or more of our outward senses. These excite the first kind of love of the world, which St. John terms the desire of the flesh. Secondly, objects of the imagination, things that gratify our fancy, by their grandeur or beauty or novelty. All these make us fair promises of happiness, and thereby prevent our seeking it in God. This the apostle terms the desire of the eyes, whereby chiefly the imagination is gratified. They are thirdly what St. John calls the pride of life. He seems to mean honor, wealth, and whatever directly tends to engender pride.
But suppose we were guarded against all of these, and are there not other idols which we have need to be apprehensive of? And idols, therefore, the more dangerous, because we suspect no danger from them. For is there any danger to be feared from our friends and relations, from the mutual endearments of husbands and wives, or of parents and children? Ought we not to bear a very tender affection to them? Ought we not to love them only less than God? Yea, and is there not a tender affection due to those whom God has made profitable to our souls? Are we not commanded to esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake? All this is unquestionably true, and this spiriting makes the difficulty.
Who is sufficient for this, to go far enough herein and no farther, to love them enough and not too much? Can we love a wife, a child, a friend well enough, without loving the creature more than the Creator? Who is able to follow the caution which St. Paul gives to the Christians at Thessalonica? 1 Thessalonians 4, 5. I wish that weighty passage so strangely disguised in our translation were duly considered. Let every one of you know how to possess his vessel, his wife, in sanctification and honour, so as neither to dishonour God nor himself, nor to obstruct but further holiness. St. Paul goes on, Mi, en, patse, epissimas, which we render, not in the last of concupiscence. What is this? It gives the English reader no conception at all.
Pathos means any violent or impetuous affection. Epitsima is desire. By the two words the apostle undoubtedly means vehement and impetuous affections, as the Gentiles who know not God, and so may naturally seek happiness in a creature. If by the grace of God we have avoided or forsaken all these idols, there is still one more dangerous than all the rest. that is, religion. It will easily be conceived, I mean, false religion, that is, any religion which does not imply the giving of the heart to God. Such is, first, a religion of opinions, or what is called, Orthodoxy. Into this snare fall thousands of those who profess to hold salvation by faith. Indeed, all those who, by faith, mean only a system of Arminian or Calvinian opinions.
Such is, secondly, A religion of forms, of barely outward worship, how constantly soever performed, yea, do we attend the church service every day and the Lord's Supper every Sunday. Such is, thirdly, a religion of works, of seeking the favor of God by doing good to men. Such is, lastly, a religion of atheism, that is, every religion whereof God is not laid for the foundation. In a word, a religion wherein God in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself is not the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last point. True religion is right, tempers towards God and man. It is, in two words, gratitude and benevolence. Gratitude to our Creator and Supreme Benefactor, and benevolence to our fellow creatures.
In other words, it is the loving God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves. It is in consequence of our knowing God loves us that we love Him and love our neighbor as ourselves. Gratitude towards our Creator cannot but produce benevolence towards our fellow-creatures. The love of Christ constrains us not only to be harmless, to do no ill to our neighbor, but to be useful, to be zealous of good works, as we have time to do good unto all men, and to be patterns of all true genuine morality, of justice, mercy, and truth. This is religion, and this is happiness, the happiness for which we were made. This begins when we begin to know God by the teaching of His own Spirit. As soon as the Father of Spirits reveal His Son into our hearts, and the Son reveals His Father, the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts.
Then and not till then we are happy. We are happy first in the consciousness of His favor, which is indeed better than life itself. Next, in the constant communion with the Father and with His Son, Jesus Christ. Then, in all the heavenly tempers which He hath wrought in us by His Spirit, again in the testimony of His Spirit, that all our works please Him. And lastly, in the testimony of our own spirits, that in simplicity and good sincerity we have had our conversation in the world, standing fast in this liberty from sin and sorrow, wherewith Christ hath made them free. Real Christians rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks, and their happiness still increases as they grow up into the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.
But how little is this religion experienced, or even thought of, in the Christian world? On the contrary, what reason have we to take up the lamentation of a dying saint, Mr. Halliburton of St. Andrews in Scotland? Oh, sirs, I am afraid that a kind of rational religion is more and more prevailing amongst us. A religion that has nothing of Christ belonging to it, nay, that has not only nothing of Christ, but nothing of God in it. And indeed, how generally does this prevail, not only among professed infidels, but also among those who call themselves Christians, who profess to believe the Bible to be the Word of God? Thus our own countryman Mr. Wollaston in that elaborate work, The Religion of Nature Delineated, presents us with a complete system of religion without anything of God about it.
Without being beholden in any degree to either the Jewish or Christian revelation. Thus, Monsieur Berlomachy of Geneva, in his curious treatise on the law of nature, does not make any more use of the Bible than if he had never seen it. And thus, the late Professor Hutchison of Glasgow, a stranger writer than either of the other, is so far from grounding virtue in either the fear or the love of God, that he quite shuts God out of the question. Not scrupling to declare in expressed terms that a regard to God is inconsistent with virtue, insomuch that, if in doing a beneficent action you expect God to reward it, the virtue of the action is lost. It is not a virtuous, but a selfish action. Perhaps, indeed, there are not many who carry the matter to so great a length.
But how great is the number of those who, allowing religion to consist of two branches, our duty to God, and our duty to our neighbor? Entirely forget the first part and put the second part for the whole, for the entire duty of man. Thus, almost all the men of letters, both in England, France, Germany, yea, and all the civilized countries of Europe, extol humanity to disguise as the very essence of religion. To this the great triumvirate, Rosso, Voltaire, David Hume, have contributed all their labors, bearing no pains to establish a religion which should stand on its own foundation. Independent at any revelation whatever, yea, not supposing even the being of a god, so leaving him, if he has any being, to himself.
They have found out both our religion and a happiness which have no relation at all to God, nor any dependence upon him. It is no wonder that this religion should grow fashionable and spread far and wide in the world. But call it humanity, virtue, morality, or what you please, it is neither better nor worse than atheism. Men hereby willfully and designally put asunder what God has joined, the duties of the first and second table. It is separating the love of our neighbor from the love of God. It is a plausible way of trusting God out of the world he has made. They can do the business without him, and so either drop him entirely, not considering him at all, Or suppose that since he gave things their beginning, and set this whirligig a-spinning, he has not concerned himself with these trifles, but let everything take its own course.
On the contrary, we have the fullest evidence that the eternal, omnipresent, almighty, all-wise spirit, as he created all things, so he continually superintends whatever he has created. He governs all, not only to the bounds of creation, but through the utmost extent of space. And not only through the short time that is measured by the earth and sun, but from everlasting to everlasting. We know that as all nature, so all religion and all happiness depend on him, and we know that whoever teach to seek happiness without him are monsters and the pests of society. But after all the vain attempts of learned or unlearned men, it will be found, as there is but one God, so there is but one happiness and one religion.
And both of these enter in God. Both by Scripture and by experience we know that an unholy and therefore an unhappy man seeking rest but finding none is sooner or later convinced that sin is the ground of his misery, and cries out of the deep to him that is able to save, God be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not long before he finds redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins. Then the Father reveals his Son in his heart, and he calls Jesus Lord by the Holy Ghost. And then the love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Spirit which is given unto him. From these principles brings real, disinterested benevolence to all mankind, making him humble, meek, gentle to all men, easy to be entreated, to be convinced of what is right, and persuaded to what is good, inviolably patient, with the thankful acquisitions in every step of his adorable providence.
This is religion, even the whole mind, which was also in Christ Jesus. And has any man the insolence or the stupidity to deny that this is happiness, yea, that it yields more of happiness below than victors in a triumph know? And there can be no doubt from this love to God and man a suitable conversation will follow. His communication, that is, discourse, will be always in grace seasoned with salt. And meet to minister grace to the hearers, he will always open his mouth with wisdom, and there will be in his mouth the law of kindness. Hence these affectionate words will distill as the dew, and as the rain upon the tender herb. And men will know it is not he only that speaks, but the Spirit of the Father that speaketh in him.
His actions will spring from the same source with his words, even from the abundance of a loving heart. And while all these aim at the glory of God, and tend to this one point, whatever He does, He may truly say, End of my every action, thou. In all things thee I see. Accept my hallowed labor now. I do it as to thee. He to whom this character belongs, and he alone is a Christian. To him the one eternal, omnipresent, all-perfect Spirit is the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last. Not his Creator only, but his Sustainer, his Preserver, his Governor, yea, his Father, Savior, Sanctifier, and Comforter. This God is his God in his all, in time and in eternity. It is the benevolence springing from this root, which is pure and undefiled religion.
But if it be built on any other foundation, as it is of no avail in the sight of God, so it brings no real, solid, permanent happiness to man. But leaves him still a poor, dry, indigent, and dissatisfied creature. Let all therefore that desire to please God condescend to be taught of God, and take care to walk in the path which God himself hath appointed. Beware of taking half of this religion for the whole, and take both parts of it together. And see that you begin where God himself begins. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Is not this the first? Our Lord Himself being the Judge, as well as the great commandment. First therefore see that ye love God, next your neighbor, every child of man.
From this fountain let every temper, every affection, every passion flow. So shall that mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus. Let all your thoughts, words, and actions spring from this, so you shall inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. Preached at Dublin. April 9, 1789.
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7 07 - The Ministerial Office 18:08
The Ministerial Office. No man taketh this honor unto himself but he that is called of God, as was Aaron.
There are exceeding few texts of holy scripture which have been more frequently urged than this against Laman, that are neither priests nor deacons, and yet take upon them to preach. Many have asked, How dare any take this honor to himself, unless he be called of God, as was Aaron? And the pious and sensible clergyman some years ago published a sermon on these words. Wherein he endeavors to show that it is not enough to be inwardly called of God to preach as many imagine themselves to be, unless they are outwardly called by men sent of God for that purpose, as Aaron was called of God by Moses. But there is one grievous flaw in this argument as often as it has been urged. Called of God as was Aaron, but Aaron did not preach at all.
He was not called to it either by God or man. Aaron was called to minister in holy things. To offer up prayers and sacrifices, to execute the office of a priest, but he was never called to be a preacher. In ancient times, the office of a priest and that of a preacher were known to be entirely distinct, so everyone would be convinced that impartiality traces the matter from the beginning. From Adam to Noah, it is allowed by all that the firstborn in every family was, of course, the priest in that family, by virtue of his primogenitor. But this gave him no right to be a preacher or, in the scriptural language, a prophet. This office not unfrequently belonged to the youngest branch of the family, for in this respect God always asserted his right to send by whom he would send.
From the time of Noah to that of Moses the same observation may be made. The eldest of the family was the priest, but any other might be the prophet. This the office of priest we find Esau inherited by virtue of his birthright. Till he profanely sold it to Jacob for a mess of pottage. And it was this that he could never recover, though he sought it carefully with tears. Indeed, in the time of Moses, a very considerable change was made with regard to the priesthood. God then appointed that instead of the firstborn in every house, a whole tribe should be dedicated to him, and that all that afterwards ministered unto him as priests should be of that tribe, Thus Aaron was of the tribe of Levi, and so likewise was Moses.
But he was not a priest, though he was the greatest prophet that ever lived, before God brought his first begotten into the world. Meantime, not many of the Levites were prophets, and if any were, it was a mere accidental thing. They were not such as being of that tribe. Many, if not most of the prophets, as we were informed by ancient Jewish writers, were of the tribe of Simeon. And some were of the tribe of Benjamin or Judah, and probably of other tribes also. But we have reason to believe there were, in every age, two sorts of prophets, the extraordinary such as Nathan, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and many others, on whom the Holy Ghost came in an extraordinary manner. Such was Amos, in particular, who saith of himself, I was no prophet, neither a prophet's son, but I was a herdman.
And the Lord said unto me, Go, prophesy unto my people Israel. The ordinary were those who were educated in the schools of the prophets, one of which was at Ramah, over which Samuel presided. 1 Samuel 19, 18. These were trained up to instruct the people and were the ordinary preachers in their synagogues. In the New Testament, they are usually termed scribes or nomikoi, expounders of the law, but few, if any of them were priests. These were all along a different order. Many learned men have shown at large that our Lord Himself and all His apostles built the Christian church as nearly as possible in the plan of the Jewish. So the great high priest of our profession sent apostles and evangelists to proclaim glad tidings to all the world, and then pastors, preachers, and teachers to build up in faith the congregations that should be found.
But I do not find that ever the office of an evangelist was the same with that of a pastor frequently called a bishop. He presided over the flock and administered the sacraments. The former assisted him and preached the word either in one or more congregations. I cannot prove from any part of the New Testament or from any author of the three first centuries that the office of an evangelist gave any man a right to act as a pastor or bishop. I believe these offices were considered as quite distinct from each other till the time of Constantine. Indeed, in that evil hour, when Constantine the Great called himself a Christian and poured in honor and wealth upon the Christians, the case was wildly altered.
It soon grew common for one man to take whole charge of a congregation in order to engross the whole pay. Hence the same person acted as priest and prophet, as pastor and evangelist, and is gradually spread more and more throughout the whole Christian church. Yet even at this day, although the same person usually discharges both those offices, Yet the office of an evangelist or teacher does not imply that of a pastor, whom peculiarly belong the administration of sacraments, neither among the Presbyterians, nor in the Church of England, nor even among the Roman Catholics. All Presbyterian churches, it is well known that of Scotland in particular, license men to preach before they are ordained throughout that whole kingdom, and it is never understood that disappointment to preach gives them any right to administer sacraments.
Likewise, in our own church, persons may be authorized to preach, yea, may be doctors of divinity, as was Dr. Allwood at Oxford when I resided there, who are not ordained at all and consequently have no right to administer the Lord's Supper. Yea, even in the Church of Rome itself, if a lay brother believes he is called to go on a mission, as it is termed, he is sent out, though neither priest nor deacon, to execute that office and not the other. But may it not be thought that the case now before us is different from all these? Undoubtedly, in many respects, it is. Such a phenomenon now appeared as it has not appeared in the Christian world before, at least not for many ages. Two young men saw the Word of God not only in churches, but likewise literally by the highway side, and indeed in every place where they saw an open door where sinners had ears to hear.
They were members of the Church of England, and had no design of separating from it. And they advised all that were of it to continue therein, although they joined the Methodist society. For this did not imply leaving their former congregation, but only leaving their sins. The churchmen might go to the church still, the Presbyterian, Anabaptist, Quaker might still retain their own opinions, and attend their own congregations. The having a real desire to flee from the right to come was the only condition required of them. Whosoever, therefore, feared God and worked righteousness was qualified for this society. Not long after, a young man, Thomas Maxfield, offered himself to serve as a son in the Gospel, and then another, Thomas Richards, and a little after, a third, Thomas Westall.
Let it be well observed on what terms we receive this, this, as prophets, not as priests. We receive them wholly and solely to preach, not to administer sacraments. And those who imagine these offices to be inseparably joined are totally ignorant of the constitution of the whole Jewish as well as Christian church. Neither the Romish nor the English nor the Presbyterian churches ever accounted them so. Otherwise, we should never have accepted the service either of Mr. Maxfield, Richards, or Westall. In 1744, all the Methodist preachers had their first conference, but none of them dreamed that the being called to preach gave them any right to administer sacraments. And when that question was proposed, in what light are we to consider ourselves?
It was answered, as extraordinary messengers raced up to provoke the ordinary ones to jealousy. In order hereto, one of our first rules was given to each preacher. You are to do that part of the work which we appoint. But what work was this? Did we ever appoint you to administer sacraments, to exercise the priestly office? Such a design never entered into our mind. It was the farthest from our thoughts. And if any preacher had taken such a step, we should have looked upon it as a palpable breach of this rule, and consequently as a recantation of our connection. For supposing what I utterly deny, that the receiving you as a preacher at the same time gave an authority to administer the sacraments, yet it gave you no other authority than to do it, or anything else where I appoint.
But where did I appoint you to do this? Nowhere at all. Therefore, by this very rule, you are excluded from doing it. And in doing it, you renounced the first principle of Methodism, which was wholly and solely to preach the Gospel. It was several years after our society was formed before any attempt of this kind was made. The first was, I apprehend, at Norwich. One of our preachers there yielded to the importunity of a few of the people, and baptized their children. But as soon as it was known, he was informed it must not be, unless he designed to leave our connection. He promised to do it no more, and I suppose he kept his promise. Now as long as the Methodists keep to this plan, they cannot separate from the Church.
And this is our peculiar glory. It is new upon the earth. Revolve all the histories of the Church from the earliest ages, and you will find, whenever there was a great work of God in any particular city or nation, the subjects of that work soon said to their neighbors, Stand by yourselves, for we are holier than you. As soon as ever they separated themselves, either they retired into deserts, or they built religious houses, or at least formed parties into which none was admitted but such as subscribed both to their judgment and practice. But with the Methodists, it is quite otherwise. They are not a sect or party. They do not separate from the religious community to which they first belong. They are still members of the Church, such they desire to live and to die.
And I believe one reason why God is pleased to continue my life so long is to confirm them in their present purpose not to separate from the Church. But notwithstanding this, many warm men say, Nay, but you do separate from the Church. Others are equally warm because they say, I do not. I will nakedly declare the thing as it is. I hold all the doctrines of the Church of England. I love her liturgy. I approve her plan of discipline and only wish it could be put into execution. I do not knowingly vary from any rule of the church unless in those few instances where I judge, and as far as I judge, there is an absolute necessity. For instance, one. As few clergymen open their churches to me, I am under the necessity of preaching fraud.
Two. As I know no forms that will suit all occasions, I am often under a necessity of praying extemporary. Three. In order to build up the flock of Christ in faith and love, I am under a necessity of uniting them together, and of dividing them into little companies that they may provoke one another to love and good works. Four. That my fellow laborers and I may more effectually assist each other to save our own souls and those that hear us, I judge it necessary to meet the preachers, or at least the greater part of them, once a year. Five. In those conferences we fix the stations of all the preachers for the ensuing year. But all this is not separating from the church, so far from it that whenever I have opportunity, I attend the church service myself, and advise all our societies so to do.
Nevertheless, as to the generality even of religious people, who do not understand my motives of acting, and who, on the one hand, hear me profess that I will not separate from the church, and on the other hand that I do vary from it in these instances, They will naturally think I am inconsistent with myself, and they cannot but think so unless they observe my two principles. The one, that I dare not separate from the church, that I believe it would be a sin so to do. The other, that I believe it would be a sin not to fear from it in the points above mentioned. I say put these two principles together. First, I will not separate from the church. Yet, secondly, in cases of necessity, I will vary from it, both of which I have constantly and openly avowed for upwards of fifty years, and inconsistency vanishes away.
I have been true to my profession from 1730 to this day. But is it not contrary to your profession to permit service in Dublin at church hours? For what necessity is there for this? Or what good end does it answer? I believe it answered several good ends which could not so well be answered any other way. The first, strange as it may sound, to prevent a separation from the church. Many of our society were totally separated from the church. They never attended it at all. But now they duly attend the church every first Sunday in the month. But had they not better attend it every week? Yes, but who can persuade them to do it? I cannot. I have strove to do it twenty or thirty years, but in vain. The second is the weaning them from attending dissenting meetings, which many of them attended constantly, but have now wholly left.
The third is the constantly hearing the sound doctrine which is able to save their souls. I wish all of you who are vulgarly termed Methodists would seriously consider what has been said, and particularly you whom God had commissioned to call sinners to repentance. It does by no means follow from hence that ye are commissioned to baptize or to administer the Lord's Supper. Ye never dreamed of this, for ten or twenty years after ye began to preach. Ye did not then, like Korah, Dayton, and Abiram, seek the priesthood also. Ye knew, no man taketh this honor unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron. O contain yourselves within your own bounds, be content with preaching the gospel.
Do the work of evangelists. Proclaim to all the world the lovingkindness of God our Savior. Declare to all, the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Repent ye and believe the gospel. I earnestly advise you, abide in your place. Keep your own station. You were fifty years ago, those of you that were then Methodist preachers, extraordinary messengers of God, not going in your own will but thrust out, not to supersede but to provoke the jealousy the ordinary messengers. In God's name, stop there. Both by our preaching and example, provoke them to love and to good works. Ye are a new phenomenon in the earth, a body of people who, being of no sect or party, are friends to all parties, and endeavor to forward all in the heart religion, in the knowledge and love of God and man.
Ye yourselves were first called in the Church of England, and though ye have and will have a thousand temptations to leave it and set up for yourselves, regard them not. Be Church of England men still, and do not cast away the peculiar glory which God hath put upon you, and frustrate the sign of Providence, the very end for which God raised you up. I would add a few words to those serious people who are not connected with the Methodists, many of whom are of our own Church, the Church of England. Why should ye be displeased with us? We do you no harm. We do not design or offend you in anything. We hold your doctrines. We observe your rules. More than do most of the people in the kingdom. Some of you are clergymen, and why should ye of all men be displeased with us?
We neither attack your character nor your revenue. We honour you for your work's sake. If we see some things which we do not approve of, we do not publish them. We rather cast a mantle over them, and hide what we cannot commend. When ye treat us unkindly or unjustly, we suffer it. Being reviled, we bless. We do not return railing for railing. O let not your hand be upon us. Ye that are rich in this world count us not your enemies, because we tell you the truth, and it may be in a fuller and stronger manner than any other's will or dare to. Ye have therefore need of us, inexpressible need. Ye cannot buy such friends at any price. All your gold and silver cannot purchase such. Make use of us while ye may.
If it be possible, never be without some of those who speak the truth from their heart. Otherwise ye may grow gray in your sins, ye may say to your souls, Peace, peace, while there is no peace. Ye may sleep and dream ye are in the way to heaven, till ye awake in everlasting fire. But whether ye will hear or whether ye will forbear, we by the grace of God hold our own way, being ourselves still members of the Church of England, as we were from the beginning, but receiving all that love God in every church as our brother and sister and mother. And in order to their union with us, we require no unity in opinions or in modes of worship, but barely that they fear God and work righteousness, as was observed.
Now this is utterly a new thing, unheard of in any Christian community. In what church or congregation besides throughout the Christian world can members be admitted upon these terms without any other conditions? Point any such out, whoever can. I know none in Europe, Asia, Africa, or America. This is the glory of the Methodists, and of them alone. They are themselves no particular sect or party, but they receive those of all parties who endeavor to do justly and love mercy, and walk humbly with their God. Cork May 4, 1789.
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8 08 - Causes of the Inefficacy of Christianity 24:52
Causes of the Inefficacy of Christianity. Quote, Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why, then, is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered? Unquote. Jeremiah 8.22 This question, as here proposed by the prophet, relates only to a particular people, the children of Israel. But I would here consider it in a general sense with relation to all mankind. I would seriously inquire Why has Christianity done so little good in the world? Is it not the balm, the outward means, which the great physician has given to men to restore their spiritual health? Why, then, is it not restored? You say, because of the deep and universal corruption of human nature. Most true, but here is the very difficulty.
Was it not intended? By our all-wise and almighty Creator, to be the remedy for that corruption? A universal remedy for a universal evil? But it has not answered this intention. It never did. It does not answer it at this day. The disease still remains in its full strength. Wickedness of every kind, vice inward and outward in all its forms, still overspreads the face of the earth. O Lord God, righteous art thou! Yet let us plead with thee. How is this? Hast thou forgotten the world thou hast made, which thou hast created for thy own glory? Canst thou despise the work of thy own hands, the purchase of thy Son's blood? Thou hast given medicine to heal our sickness, yet our sickness is not healed.
Yet darkness covers the earth, and thick darkness the people. Yea. Darkness, such as devils feel, issuing from the pit of hell. What a mystery is this, that Christianity should have done so little good in the world. Can any account of this be given? Can any reasons be assigned for it? Does it not seem that one reason it has done so little good is this, because it is so little known? Certainly it can do no good where it is not known. But it is not known at this day to the far greater part of the inhabitants of the earth. In the last century, our ingenious and laborious countryman, Mr. Brearywood, traveled over great parts of the world on purpose to inquire, so far as was possible, what proportion the Christians bear to the heathens and Mahatmans.
And, according to his computation, probably the most accurate which has yet been made, I suppose mankind to be divided into thirty parts. Nineteen parts of these are still open heathens, having no more knowledge of Christianity than the beasts that perish. And we may add to these the numerous nations which have been discovered in the present century. Add to these such as profess the Mahatmaian religion, and utterly scorned Christianity, and twenty-five parts out of thirty of mankind are not so much as nominally Christians. So, then, five parts of mankind out of six are totally ignorant of Christianity. It is, therefore, no wonder that five and six of mankind, perhaps nine and ten, have no advantage from it.
But why is it that so little advantage is derived from it to the Christian world? Are Christians any better than other men? Are they better than Mahometans or heathens? To say the truth, it is well if they are not worse. Worse than either Mahometeans or heathens. In many respects, they are abundantly worse. But then, they are not properly Christian. The generality of these, though they hear the Christian name, do not know what Christianity is. They no more understand it than they do Greek or Hebrew. Therefore, they can be no better for it. What do the Christians, so-called, of the Eastern Church, dispersed throughout their Turkish dominions, know of genuine Christianity? Those of Morea, of Circassia, Mongrelia, Georgia?
Are they not the very dregs of mankind? And have we reason to think that those of the Southern Church, those inhabiting Abyssinia, have any more conception than they of worshipping God in spirit and in truth? Look we nearer home. See the northern churches, those that are under the patriarch of Moscow. How exceedingly little do they know either of outward or inward Christianity! How many thousands, yea, myriads, of these poor savages know nothing of Christianity but the name? How little more do they know than the heathen Tartars on the one hand, or the heathen Chinese on the other? But is not Christianity well known, at least, To all the inhabitants of the Western world, a great part of which is eminently termed Christendom, or the land of Christians.
Part of these are still members of the Church of Rome, part are termed Protestants. As to the former, Portuguese, Spaniard, Italians, French, German, what do the hulk of them know of scriptural Christianity? Having had frequent opportunity of conversing with many of these, both at home and abroad, I am bold to affirm that they are in general totally ignorant, both as to the theory and practice of Christianity, so that they are perishing by thousands for lack of knowledge, for want of knowing the very first principles of Christianity. But surely this cannot be the case of the Protestants in France, Switzerland, Germany and Holland, much less in Denmark and Sweden. Indeed, I hope it is not altogether.
I am persuaded there are among them many knowing Christians, but I fear we must not think that one in ten, if one in fifty, is of this number, certainly not, if we may form a judgment of them by those we find in Great Britain and Ireland. Let us see how matters stand at our own door. Do the people of England, in general? Not the highest or the lowest, for these usually know nothing of the matter. But the people of the middle rank? Understand Christianity? Do they conceive what it is? Can they give an intelligible account, either of the speculative or practical part of it? What know they of the very first principles of it? Of the natural and moral attributes of God? Of His particular providence?
Of the redemption of man? of the offices of Christ, of the operations of the Holy Ghost, of justification, of the new birth of inward and outward sanctification. Speak of any of these things to the first ten persons you are in company with, and will you not find nine out of the ten ignorant of the whole affair? And are not most of the inhabitants of the Scottish Highlands full as ignorant as these, yea, and the common people in Ireland? I mean the Protestants, of whom alone we are now speaking. Make a fair inquiry, not only in the country capons, but in the cities of Cork, Waterford, Limerick, yea, and Dublin itself. How few know what Christianity means! How small a number will you find that have any conception of the analogy of faith, of the connected chain of scripture truth, and their relations to each other, namely the natural corruption of man, Justification by faith, the new birth.
Inward and outward holiness. It must be acknowledged by all competent judges who converse freely with their neighbors in these kingdoms, that a vast majority of them know no more of these things than they do of Hebrew or Arabic. And what good can Christianity do to these who are so totally ignorant of it? However, in some parts, Both England and Ireland, scriptural Christianity is well known, especially in London, Bristol, Dublin, and almost all the large and populous cities and towns of both kingdoms. In these, every branch of Christianity is openly and largely declared, and thousands upon thousands continually hear and receive the truth as it is in Jesus. Why is it, then, that even in these parts Christianity has had so little effect?
Why are the generality of people in all these places heathens still, no better than the heathens of Africa or America, either in their tempers or in their lives? Now, how is this to be accounted for? I conceive thus. It was a common saying among the Christians in the primitive Church, The soul and the body make a man, the spirit and discipline make a Christian. Implying that none could be real Christians Without the help of Christian discipline. But if this be so, is it any wonder that we find so few Christians? For where is Christian discipline? In what part of England, to go no farther, is Christian discipline added to Christian doctrine? Now, whatever doctrine is preached, where there is no discipline, it cannot have its full effect upon the hearers.
To bring the matter closer still, Is not scriptural Christianity preached and generally known among the people commonly called Methodists? Impartial persons allow it. And have they not Christian discipline too, in all the essential branches of it, regularly and constantly exercised? Let those who think any essential part of it is wanting, point it out, and it shall not be wanting long. Why then are not these altogether Christians? Who have both Christian doctrine and Christian discipline? Why is not the spiritual health of the people called Methodists recovered? Why is not all that, quote, mind in us which was also in Christ Jesus, unquote? Why have we not learned of him our very first lesson, to be meek and lowly of heart, to say with him in all circumstances of life, not as I will, but as thou wilt?
I come not to do my own will, but the will of Him that sent me. Why are not we crucified to the world, and the world crucified to us, dead to the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, and the pride of life? Why do not all of us live the life that is hid with Christ in God? Oh, why do not we that have all possible helps walk as Christ also walked? Hath he not left us an example that we might tread in his steps? But do we regard either his example or precept? To instant only, in one point. Who regards these solemn words, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, of the three rules which are laid down on this head in the sermon on the mammon of unrighteousness? You may find many that observe the first rule, namely, gain all you can.
You may find a few that observe the second rule, save all you can. But how many have you found that observe the third rule, give all you can? Have you reason to believe that five hundred of these are to be found among fifty thousand Methodists? And yet nothing can be more plain than that all who observe the first two rules without the third Will be twofold more the children of Hell than they ever were before. Oh, that God would enable me once more, before I go hence and am no more seen, to lift my voice like a trumpet to those who gain and save all they can, but do not give all they can. Ye are the men, some of the chief men, who continually grieve the Holy Spirit of God, and in a great measure stop His gracious influence from descending on our assemblies.
Many of your brethren, beloved of God, have not food to eat. They have not raiment to put on. They have not a place where to lay their head. And why are they thus distressed? Because you impiously, unjustly, and cruelly detain from them what your master and theirs lodges in your hands on purpose to supply their wants. See that poor members of Christ, pinched with hunger, shivering with cold, half-naked, Meantime you have plenty of this world's goods, of meat, drink, and apparel. In the name of God, what are you doing? Do you neither fear God nor regard man? Why do you not deal your bread to the hungry, and cover the naked with a garment? Have you laid out in your own costly apparel what would have answered both of these intentions?
Did God command you so to do? Does He commend you for so doing? Did he entrust with you his, not your, goods for this end? And does he now say, Servant of God, well done? You will know he does not. This idle expense has no approbation, either from God or your own conscience. But you say you can't afford it. Oh, be ashamed to take such miserable nonsense into your mouths. Never more litter such stupid cant, such Palpable absurdity. Can any steward afford to be an errant knave, to waste his lord's goods? Can any servant afford to lay out his master's money, any otherwise than his master appoints him? So far from it that whoever does this ought to be excluded from a Christian society. But is it possible to supply all the poor in our society with the necessities of life?
It was possible once to do this in a larger society than this. In the first church at Jerusalem there was not any among them that lacked, but distribution was made to every one according as he had need. And we have full proof that it may be so still. It is so among the people called Quakers, yea, and among the Moravians, so called. And why should it not be so with us? Because they are ten times richer than we. Perhaps fifty times, and yet we are able enough, if we were equally willing to do this. A gentleman, a Methodist, told me some years since, I shall leave forty thousand pounds among my children. Now suppose he had left them but twenty thousand, and given the other twenty thousand to God and the poor.
Would God have said to him, Thou fool! And this would have set all the society far above want. But I will not talk of giving to God, or leaving half your fortune. You might think this to be too high a price for heaven. I will come to lower terms. Are there not a few among you that could give a hundred pounds, perhaps some that could give a thousand, and yet leave your children as much as would help them to work out their own salvation? With two thousand pounds, and not much less, we could supply the present wants of all our poor. and put them in a way of supplying their own wants for the time to come. Now suppose this could be done. Are we clear before God while it is not done? Is not the neglect of it one cause why so many are still sick and weak among you?
And that both in soul and in body, that they still grieve the Holy Spirit by preferring the fashions of the world to the commands of God? And I many times doubt Whether we preachers or not, in some measure, partakers of their sin. I am in doubt whether it is not a kind of partiality. I doubt whether it is not a great sin to keep them in our society. May it not hurt their souls by encouraging them to persevere in walking contrary to the Bible, and may it not, in some measure, intercept the salutary influence of the Blessed Spirit upon the whole community? I am distressed. I know not what to do. I see what I might have done once. I might have said peremptorily and expressly, Here I am, I in my Bible.
I will not, I dare not, vary from this book, either in great things or small. I have no power to dispense with one jot or tittle what is contained therein. I am determined to be a Bible Christian, not almost, but altogether. Who will meet me on this ground? Join me on this, or not at all. With regard to dress, in particular, I might have been as firm, and I now see it would have been far better, as either the people called Quakers, or the Moravian brethren. I might have said, This is our manner of dress, which we know is both scriptural and rational. If you will join us, you are to dress as we do, but you need not join us unless you please. But alas, the time has now passed, and what I can do now, I cannot tell.
But to return to the main question, why has Christianity done so little good even among us, among the Methodists, among them that hear and receive the whole Christian doctrine, and that have Christian discipline added thereto in the most essential parts of it? Plainly because we have forgot. Or at least not duly attended to those solemn words of our Lord. If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. It was the remark of a holy man several years ago. Never was there before a people in the Christian church who had so much of the power of God among them, with so little self-denial.
Indeed, the work of God does go on, and in a surprising manner, nonwithstanding this capital defect. But it cannot go on in the same degree as it otherwise would. Neither can the word of God have its full effect unless the hearers of it deny themselves and take up their crosses daily. It would be easy to show in how many respects the Methodists, in general, are deplorably wanting in the practice of Christian self-denial. From which, indeed, they have been continually frightened by the silly outcries of the Antimonians. To instance only in one, while we were at Oxford, the rule of every Methodist was, unless in case of sickness, to fast every Wednesday and Friday in the year, in imitation of the primitive church, for which they had the highest reverence.
Now the practice of the primitive church is universally allowed. Who does not know? says Epiphanius, an ancient writer, that the fasts of the fourth and sixth days of the week, Wednesday and Friday, are observed by the Christians throughout the whole world. So they were by the Methodists for several years, by them all, without any exception. But afterwards, some in London carried this to excess, and fasted so as to impair their health. It was not long before others made this a pretense for not fasting at all. And I fear there are now thousands of Methodists, so-called, both in England and Ireland, who, following the same bad example, have entirely left off fasting, who are so far from fasting twice in the week, as all the stricter Pharisees did, that they do not fast twice in the month.
Yea, are there not some of you who do not fast one day from the beginning of the year to the end? But what excuse can there be for this? I do not say for those that call themselves members of the Church of England, but for any who profess to believe the Scripture to be the Word of God, since, according to this, the man that never fasts is no more in the way of heaven than the man that never prays. But can anyone deny that the members of the Church of Scotland fast constantly, particularly on their sacramental occasions? In some parishes they return only once a year, but in others, supposed in large cities, They occur twice, or even thrice a year. Now, it is well known there is always a fast day in the week preceding the administration of the Lord's Supper.
But occasionally, looking into a book of accounts in one of their vestries, I observe so much set down for the dinners of the ministers on the fast day, and I am informed there is the same article in them all. And is there any doubt but that the people fast just as their ministers do? But what a farce is this! What a miserable burlesque upon a plain Christian duty! Oh, that the General Assembly would have regard to the honor of their nation! Let them roll away from it this shameful reproach by either enforcing the duty or removing that article from their books. Let it never appear there any more. Let it vanish away forever. But why is this self-denial in general so little practiced at present among the Methodists?
Why is so exceedingly little of it to be found even in the oldest and largest societies? The more I observe and consider things, the more clearly it appears what is the cause of this in London, in Bristol, in Birmingham, in Manchester, in Leeds, in Dublin, in Cork. The Methodists grow more and more self-indulgent, because they grow rich, although many of them are still deplorably poor. Tell it not in Gath, Publish it not in the streets of Ascalon. Yet many others, in the space of twenty, thirty, or forty years, are twenty, thirty yea, a hundred times richer than they were when they first entered the society. And it is an observation which admits a few exceptions, that nine in ten of these decreased in grace, in the same proportion as they increased in wealth.
Indeed, according to the natural tendency of riches, we cannot expect it to be otherwise. But how astonishing a thing is this! How can we understand it? Does it not seem, and yet this cannot be, that Christianity, true scriptural Christianity, has a tendency, in process of time, to undermine and destroy itself? For wherever true Christianity spreads, it must cause diligence and frugality, which, in the natural course of things, must beget riches, and riches naturally beget pride, Now, if there be no way to prevent this, Christianity is inconsistent with itself, and of consequence cannot stand, cannot continue long among any people, since, wherever it generally prevails, it saps its own foundation.
But is there no way to prevent this? To continue Christianity among a people? Allowing that diligence and frugality must produce riches, is there no means to hinder riches from destroying the religion of those that possess them? I can see only one possible way. Find out another who can. Do you gain all you can, and save all you can? Then you must, in the nature of things, grow rich. Then, if you have any desire to escape the damnation of hell, give all you can. Otherwise I can have no more hope of your salvation than that of Judas Iscariot. I call God to record upon my soul that I advise no more than I practice. I do, blessed be God, gain and save, and give all I can. And so, I trust in God. I shall do while the breath of God is in my nostrils.
But what then? I count all things but loss for the excellency of knowledge of Jesus my Lord. Still I give up every plea beside, Lord, I am damned, but thou hast died. Dublin, July 2, 1789.
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9 09 - On Knowing Christ after the Flesh 14:17
On Knowing Christ After the Flesh. Henceforth know we no man after the flesh, yea, though we did know Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him no more. 2 Corinthians 5.16 I have long desired to see something clearly and intelligibly wrote on these words. This is doubtless, a point of no small importance. It enters deep into the nature of religion. And yet what treatise have we in the English language which is written upon it? Possibly there may be such, but none of them has come to my notice. No, not so much a single sermon. This is here introduced by the apostle in a very solemn manner. The words literally translated ran thus, He died for all that they who live, all who live upon the earth, might not henceforth from the moment they knew him live unto themselves seek their own honor or profit or pleasure, but unto him in righteousness and true holiness.
2 Corinthians 5.15 So that we from this time, we that know him by faith, Know no one, either the rest of the apostles or you, or any other person after the flesh. This uncommon expression, on which the whole doctrine depends, seemed to mean, we regard no man according to his former state, his country, riches, power, or wisdom. We consider all men only in their spiritual state, and as they stand related to a better world. Yea, if we have known even Christ after the flesh. Which undoubtedly they had done, beholding and loving him as a man with a natural affection. Yet now we know him so no more. We no more know him as a man by his face, shape, voice, or manner of conversation. We no more think of him as a man or love him under that character.
The meaning, then, of this strongly figurative expression appears to be no more than this. From the time we are created anew in Christ Jesus, we do not think or speak or act with regard to our blessed Lord as a mere man. We do not now use any expression with relation to Christ which may not be applied to him, not only as he is man, but as he is God over all, blessed for ever. Perhaps in order to place this in a clearer light, and at the same time guard against dangerous errors, it may be well to instance in some of those that in the most plain and palpable manner know Christ after the flesh. We may rank among the first of these, the Socinians, those who flatly deny the Lord that bought them. who not only do not allow him to be the supreme god, but deny him to be any god at all.
I believe the most eminent of these that has appeared in England, at least in the present century, was a man of great learning and uncommon abilities, Dr. John Taylor, for many years pastor at Norwich, and afterwards president at the Academy at Warrington. Yet it cannot be denied that he treats our Lord with great civility. He gives him very good words. He terms him A very worthy personage, yea, a man of consummate virtue. Next to these are the Arians, but I would not be taught to place them in the same rank with the Saucinians. There is a considerable difference between them, for whereas the former deny Christ to be any god at all, the latter do not. They only deny him to be the great god. They willingly allow, nay, contend that he is a little god.
But this is attended with a peculiar inconvenience. It totally destroys the unity of the godhead. For if there be a great and a little God, there must be two gods. But waiving this, and keeping to the point before us, all who speak of Christ as inferior to the Father, though it be ever so little, do undoubtedly know Him after the flesh, not as the brightness of the Father's glory, the express image of His person, as upholding, bearing up all things both in heaven and earth by the word of His power. The same powerful word whereby of old time he called them all into being. There are some of these who have been bold to claim that the great and good man, Dr. Watts, has one of their own opinion, and in order to prove him, so they have quoted that fine siliqui which is published in his posthumous works.
Yet impartial men will not allow their claim without stronger proof than has yet appeared. But if he is clear of this charge, he is not equally clear of knowing Christ after the flesh, in another sense. I was not aware of this, but read all his works with almost equal admiration. When a person of deep piety as well as judgment was occasionally remarking that some of the hymns printed in his Hore Lyriche, dedicated to divine love, were, as he phrased it, too amorous and fitter to be addressed by a lover to his fellow mortal than by a sinner to the Most High God. I doubt whether there are not some other writers who, though they believe the Godhead of Christ, yet speak in the same unguarded manner.
Can we affirm that the hymns published by a late great man whose memory I love and esteem are free from this fault? Are they not full of expressions which strongly savour of knowing Christ after the flesh? Yea, and in a more gross manner than anything which was ever before published in the English tongue. What pity is it that those coarse expressions should appear in many truly spiritual hymns? How often in the midst of excellent verses are lines inserted which disgrace those that precede and follow. Why should not all the compositions in that book be not only as poetical, but likewise as rational and as scriptural as many of them are acknowledged to be? It was between fifty and sixty years ago that by the gracious providence of God, my brother and I, in our voyage to America, became acquainted with the so-called Moravian brethren.
We quickly took knowledge what spirit they were of, six and twenty of them being in the same ship with us. We not only contracted much esteem, but a strong affection for them. Every day we conversed with them and consulted them on all occasions. I translated many of their hymns for the use of our own congregations. Indeed, as I dares not implicitly follow any men, I did not take all that lay before me, but selected those which I judged to be the most scriptural and most suitable to sound experience. Yet I am not sure that I have taken sufficient care to pair with every improper word or expression. Every one that may seem to border on a familiarity which does not so well suit the mouth of a worm of the earth when addressing himself to the God of heaven.
I have indeed particularly endeavored in all the hymns which are addressed to our blessed Lord to avoid every fondling expression and to speak as to the Most High God, to Him that is in glory equal with the Father, in majestico eternal. Some will probably think I have been over-scrupulous with regard to one particular word. Which I never used myself either in verse or prose, in praying or preaching, though it is very frequently used by modern divines, both of the Romish and Reformed churches. It is the word, Dear. Many of these frequently say, both in preaching, in prayer, and in giving thanks, Dear Lord or Dear Savior. And my brother used the same in many of his hymns, even as long as he lived.
But may I not ask, is not this using too much familiarity with the Great Lord of Heaven and Earth? Is there any scripture, any passage, either in the Old or New Testament, which justifies this manner of speaking? Does any of the inspired writers make use of it, even in the poetical scriptures? Perhaps some would answer, yes, the apostle Paul uses it. He says, God's dear son. I reply, first, this does not reach the case, for the word which we render dear is not here addressed to Christ at all, but only spoken of Him. Therefore, it is no precedent of, or justification of, are addressing it to him. I reply, secondly, it is not the same word. Translated literally, the sentence runs, not his dear son, but the son of his love, or his beloved son.
Therefore, I still doubt whether any of the inspired writers ever addresses the word either to the father or the son. Hence, I cannot but advise all lovers of the Bible, if they use the expression at all, to use it very sparingly. Seeing the Scripture affords neither command nor precedent for it, and surely if any man speak, either in preaching or prayer, he should speak as the oracles of God. Do we not frequently use this unscriptural expression of our blessed Lord in private conversation also? And are we not then especially apt to speak of Him as a mere man, particularly when we are describing His sufferings? How easily do we slide into this? We do well to be cautious in this matter. Here is not a room for indulging a warm imagination.
I have sometimes almost scrupled singing, even in the midst of my brother's excellent hymn, that dear disfigured face, or that glowing expression, Drop Thy Warm Blood Upon My Heart, lest it should seem to imply the forgetting I am speaking of, the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts. Although he so humbled himself as to take upon him the form of a servant, to be found in a fashion as a man, Yea, though he was obedient unto death, even the death of the cross, yet let it ever be remembered that he thought it no robbery to be equal with God. And let our hearts still cry out, Thou art exceeding glorious, Thou art clothed with majesty and honour. Perhaps some may be afraid lest the refraining from these warm expressions, or even gently checking them, should check the fervour of our devotion.
It is very possible it may check or even prevent some kind of fervor which has passed for devotion. Possibly it may prevent loud shouting, horrid and natural screaming, repeating the same words twenty or thirty times, jumping two or three feet high, and throwing about the arms or legs. Both of men and women, in a manner shocking not only to religion but to common decency. But it will never check, much less prevent, true scriptural devotion. It will rather enliven the prayer that is properly addressed to him who, though he was very man, yet was very God, who, though he was born of a woman, the redeemed man, yet was God from everlasting and world without end. And let it not be thought that knowing Christ after the flesh, that considering him as a mere man, and in consequence using such language in public as well as private as is suitable to those conceptions of him, is a thing of a purely indifferent nature, or, however, of no great moment.
On the contrary, to using this improper familiarity with God, our Creator, our Redeemer, our Governor, is naturally productive of very evil fruits, and that not only in those that speak, but also to those that hear them. It has a direct tendency to abate that tender reverence due to the Lord their Governor. It insensibly damps that speechless awe which dares not move, and all the silent heaven of love. It is impossible we should accustom ourselves to this odious and indecent familiarity with our Maker, while we preserve in our minds a lively sense of what is painted so strongly in those solemn lines. Dark with excessive bright his skirts appear, yet dazzle heaven. That bright desire of him approached not, but with both wings veiled their eyes.
Now would not every sober Christian sincerely desire constantly to experience such a love to his Redeemer? Seeing he is God as well as man, as is mixed with angelic fear? Is it not this very temper which good Dr. Watts so well expresses in those lines, Thy mercy never shall remove, from men of hearts sincere, Thou savest the souls whose humble love is joined with holy fear. Not that I would recommend a cold dead formal prayer, out of which both love, desire, hope, and fear are excluded. Such seems to have been the calm and undisturbed method of prayer. so strongly recommended by the late Bishop Hoadley, which occasioned for some years so violent a contest in the religious world. Is it not probable that the well-meaning bishop had met with some of the mystics, or quietists, such as Madame Guyon, or the Archbishop Fenelon of Cambry, and that, having no experience of these things, he patched together a theory of his own, as nearly resembling theirs as he could?
But it is certain nothing is farther from apacy than real scriptural devotion. It excites, exercises, and gives full scope to all our nobler passions, and excludes none but those that are wild, irrational, and beneath the dignity of a man. But how can we account for this, that so many holy men, men of truly elevated affections, not exempting Pius Kempis himself, have so frequently used this manner of speaking, these fondling kinds of expressions, since we cannot doubt that they were truly pious men? It is allowed that they were, but we do not allow that their judgment was equal to their piety, and hence it was that their really good affections a little exceeded the bounds of reason, and led them into a manner of speaking not authorized by the oracles of God, and surely these are the true standard, both of our affections and our language.
But did ever any of the holy men of old speak thus, either in the Old or in the New Testament? Did Daniel, the man greatly beloved, ever thus express himself to God? Or did the disciple whom Jesus loved, and who doubtless loved his master with the strongest affection, leave us an example of addressing him thus, even when he was on the verge of glory? Even then, his concluding words were not fond, but solemn. Come, Lord Jesus. The sum of all is, we are to honor the Son even as we honor the Father. We are to pay him the same worship as we pay to the Father. We are to love Him with all our heart and soul, and to consecrate all that we have and are, all we think, speak, and do to the Three-One God, Father, Son, and Spirit, world without end.
Primate Dock, August 15, 1789.
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10 10 - On a Single Eye 23:16
by John Wesley. Sermon 118. On a single eye. If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. Therefore, if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness! Matthew 6, 22 and 23. Simplicity and purity, says a devout man, are the two wings that lift the soul up to heaven. Simplicity, which is in the intention, and purity, which is in the affections. The former of these, that great and good man, Bishop Taylor, recommends with much earnestness, in the beginning of his excellent book, Rules of Holy Living and Dying. He sets out with insisting upon this as the very first point in true religion, and warns us that, without this, all our endeavors after it will be vain and ineffectual.
The same truth that strong and elegant writer Mr. Law earnestly presses in his serious call to a devout life, a treatise which will hardly be excelled, if it be equaled, in the English tongue, either for beauty or expression, or for justness of depth of thought. And who can censure any follower of Christ for laying ever so great stress on this point, that considers the manner wherein our Master recommends it, in the words above recited? Let us attentively consider this whole passage, as it may be literally translated, the eye is the lamp of the body. And what the eye is to the body, the intention is to the soul. We may observe with what exact propriety our Lord places simplicity of intention between worldly desires and worldly cares, either of which directly tend to destroy it.
It follows, if thine eye be single, singly fixed upon God, thy whole body, that is, all thy soul, shall be full of light, shall be filled with holiness and happiness. But if thine eye be evil, Not single, aiming at any other object, seeking anything beneath the sun. Thy whole body shall be full of darkness. And if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness! How remote, not only from all real knowledge, but from all real holiness and happiness! Considering these things, we may well cry out, How great a thing it is to be a Christian! To be a real inward scriptural Christian, conformed in heart and life to the will of God. Who is sufficient for these things? None, unless he be born of God.
I do not wonder that one of the most sensible deists should say, I think the Bible is the finest book I ever read in my life, yet I have an insuperable objection to it. It is too good. It lays down such a plan of life, such a scheme of doctrine and practice, as is far too excellent for weak, silly men to aim at, or attempt to copy after. All this is most true, upon any other than the scriptural hypothesis. But this being allowed, all the difficulty vanishes into error. For if all things are possible with God, then all things are possible to him that believeth. But let us consider. First, the former part of our Lord's declaration, if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. Secondly, the latter part, if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness.
And thirdly, the dreadful state of those whose eye is not single, if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness! And first, if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. If thine eye be single, if God is in all my thoughts, if thou art constantly aiming at him that is invisible, if it be thy intention in all things small and great, in all thy conversation to please God, to do not thine own will, but the will of him that sent thee into the world, if thou can say, not to any creature, but to him that made thee for himself, I view thee, Lord, and end of my desires, then the promise will certainly take place. Thy whole body shall be full of light. Thy whole soul shall be filled with the light of heaven, with the glory of the Lord resting upon thee.
In all thy actions and conversation thou shalt have not only the testimony of a good conscience towards God, but likewise of his Spirit, bearing witness with thy Spirit that all thy ways are acceptable to him. When thy whole soul is full of this light, thou wilt be able. According to St. Paul's direction to the Thessalonians, to rejoice evermore, to pray without ceasing, and in everything to give thanks. 1 Thessalonians 5, 16-18 For who can be constantly sensible of the loving presence of God, without rejoicing evermore? Who can have the loving eye of his soul perpetually fixed upon God, but he will pray without ceasing? For his heart is unto God without a voice, and his silence speaketh unto him.
Who can be sensible that this loving Father is well pleased with all he does and suffers, but he will be constrained in everything to give thanks, knowing that all things work together for good? Thus shall his whole body be full of light. The light of knowledge is doubtless one thing here intended. Arising from the unction of the Holy One, which abideth with him, and teacheth him of all things, all the things which it is now necessary for him to know in order to please God. Hereby he will have a clear knowledge of the divine will in every circumstance of life, not without the means, but in the use of all those means which God has furnished him with. And walking in this light, He cannot but grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
He will continually advance in all holiness and in the whole image of God. Our Lord observes, secondly, if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If it be evil, that is, not single, for the eye which is not single is evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. It is certain there can be no medium between a single eye and an evil eye, for whenever we are not aiming at God, we are seeking happiness in some creature. And this, whatever that creature may be, is no less than idolatry. It is all one, whether we aim at the pleasures of sense, the pleasures of the imagination, the praise of men, or riches, all of which St. John comprises under the general expression, the love of the world.
The eye is evil if we aim at any of these, or indeed at anything under the sun. So far as you aim at any of these, indeed at anything beneath God, your whole soul, and the whole course of your life, will be full of darkness. Ignorance of yourselves, ignorance of your real interest, ignorance of your relation to God will surround you with impenetrable clouds, with darkness that may be felt, And so long as the eye of your soul rests upon all or any of these, those will continue to surround your soul, and cover it with utter darkness. With how many instances in this melancholy truth, that those whose eye is not single are totally ignorant of the nature of true religion, are we surrounded on every side?
How many, even of good sort of people, of them whose lives are innocent? 2. And the eternal world. Why do they continue in this deplorable ignorance? It is the plain effect of this. Their eye is not single. They do not aim at God. He is not in all their thoughts. They do not desire or think of heaven. Therefore, they sink deep as hell. For this reason, they are as far from real holiness as they are from valuable knowledge. It is because their eye is not single. They are such strangers to vital religion. Let them be ever so accomplished in other respects. Let them ever be so learned, ever so well versed in every branch of polite literature, yea, ever so courteous, so humane. Yet, if their eye is not singly fixed on God, they can know nothing of scriptural religion.
They do not even know what Christian holiness means. What is the entrance of it, the new birth, with all the circumstances attending it? They know no more of this than do the beasts of the field. Do they repent and believe the gospel? How much less are they renewed in the spirit of their minds, in the image of Him that created them? As they have not the least experience of this, so they have not the least conception of it. Were you to name such a thing, you might expect to hear, Much religion hath made thee mad. So destitute are they, whatever accomplishments they have beside of the only religion which avails with God. And till their eye is single, they are as far remote from happiness as from holiness.
They may now and then have agreeable dreams, from wealth, honor, pleasure, or whatever else this short, enduring world can give. But none of these can satisfy the appetite of an immortal soul. Nay, all of them together cannot give rest, which is the lowest ingredient of happiness, to a never-dying spirit, which God created for the enjoyment of Himself. The hungry soul, like the busy bee, wanders from flower to flower, but it goes off from each with an abortive hope and a diluted expectation. Every creature cries, some with a loud and others with a secret voice, Happiness is not in me. The height and depth proclaim to an attentive ear, The Creator hath not implanted in me a capacity of giving happiness.
Therefore, with all thy skill and pains, thou canst not extract it from me. And indeed, the more pains any of the children of men take to extract it from any earthly object, the greater their chagrin be. The more secure their disappointment. But although the vulgar herd of mankind can find no happiness, although it cannot be found in the empty pleasures of the world, may it not be found in learning, even by him that has not a single eye. Surely content of spirit must from science flow, for tis a godlike attribute to know. By no means. On the contrary. It has been the observation of all ages that the men who possessed the greatest learning were the most dissatisfied of all men. This occasioned a person of eminent learning to declare, a fool may find a kind of paradise upon earth, although this is a grand mistake, but a wise man can find none.
These are the most discontented, the most impatient of men. Indeed, learning naturally affects this. Knowledge, as the apostle observes, puffeth up. But where pride is, happiness is not. They are utterly inconsistent with each other. So much ground there is for that melancholy reflection, wherever true religion is not. Avails it, then, O reason, to be wise? To see this mournful sight with quicker eyes? To know with more distinction to complain, and have superior sense? In feeling pain, it remains to consider, in the third place, our Lord's important question. If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness? The plain meaning is, if that principle which ought to give light to thy whole soul, as the eye does to the body, to direct thy understanding, passions, affections, tempers, all thy thoughts, words, and actions, if this principle itself be darkened, In order to see this in a stronger point of view, let us consider it in a few particular instances.
Begin with one of no small importance. Here is a father choosing an employment for his son. If his eye be not single, if he do not singly aim at the glory of God and the salvation of his soul, if it be not his one consideration, what calling is likely to secure him the highest place in heaven, not the largest share of earthly treasure, or the highest preferment in the church? The light which is in him is manifestly darkness. And oh, how great is that darkness! The mistake which he is in is not a little one, but inexpressibly great. What? Do you not prefer his being a cobbler on earth and a glorious saint in heaven before his being a lord on earth and a damned spirit in hell? If not, how great, unutterably great, is the darkness that covers your soul.
What a fool! What a dolt! What a madman is he! How stupid beyond all expression, who judges a palace upon earth to be preferable to a throne in heaven! How unspeakably is his understanding darkened, who, to gain for his child the honor that cometh of men, will entail upon him everlasting shame in the company of the devil and his angels! I cannot dismiss this subject yet, as it is of the utmost importance. How great is the darkness of that execrable wretch! I can give him no better title, be he rich or poor, who will sell his own child to the devil, who will barter her own eternal happiness for any quantity of gold or silver. What a monster would any man be accounted, who devoured the flesh of his own offspring?
And is he not as great a monster who, by his own act and deed, gives her to be devoured by that roaring lion? As he certainly does, so far as is in his power, who marries her to an ungodly man. But he is rich, but he has ten thousand pounds. What if it were a hundred thousand? The more the worse. The less probability will she have of escaping the damnation of hell. With what face wilt thou look upon her, when she tells thee in the realms below, Thou hast plunged me into this place of torment? Hadst thou given me to a good man, however poor, I might have now been in Abraham's bosom. But, O, what have riches profited me? They have sunk both me and thee into hell. Are any of you that are called Methodists, thus merciful to your children, seeking to marry them well, as the Kant phrase is, that is, to sell them to some purchaser that has much money but little or no religion?
Is then the light that is in you also darkness? And ye too, regarding God less than Mammon, are ye also without understanding? Have ye profited no more by all ye have heard? Man, woman, think what you are about. Dare you also sell your child to the devil? You undoubtedly do this, as far as in you lies, when you marry a son or a daughter to a child of the devil. Though it be one that wallows in gold and silver. Oh, take warning in time. Beware of the gilded bait. Death and hell are hid beneath. Prefer grace before gold and precious stones, glory in heaven to riches on earth. If you do not, you are worse than the very Canaanites. They only made their children pass through the fire to Moloch. You make yours pass into the fire that never shall be quenched, and to stay in it for ever.
Oh, how great is the darkness that causes you, after you have done this, to wipe your mouth and say, You have done no evil.
Let us consider another case not far distant from this. Suppose a young man, having finished his studies at the university, is desirous to minister in holy things, and accordingly enters into orders. What is his intention in this? What is the end he proposes to himself? If his eye be single, his one design is to save his own soul, and them that hear him, to bring as many sinners as he possibly can out of darkness into marvelous light. If, on the other hand, his eye not be single, if he aim at ease, honor, money, or preferment, the world may account him a wise man, but God says unto him, Thou fool, And while the light that is in him is thus darkness, how great is that darkness! What folly is comparable to his folly?
One peculiarly dedicated to the God of heaven, to mind earthly things. A worldly clergyman is a fool above all fools, a madman above all madmen. Such vile infamous wretches as these are the real ground of the contempt of the clergy. Indolent clergymen. Pleasure-taking clergymen, money-loving clergymen, praise-loving clergymen, preferment-seeking clergymen—these are the wretches that cause the order in general to be condemned. These are the pests of the Christian world, the grand nuisance of mankind, a stink in the nostrils of God. Such as these were they who made St. Chrysostom to say, Hell is paved with the souls of Christian priests. Take another case. Suppose a young woman, of an independent fortune, to be addressed at the same time by a man of wealth without religion, and a man of religion without wealth.
In other words, by a rich child of the devil, and a poor child of God. What shall we say, if other circumstances being equal, she prefer the rich man to the good man? It is plain her eye is not single, therefore her foolish heart is darkened. And how great is that darkness which makes her judge gold and silver a greater recommendation than holiness, which makes a child of the devil, with money, appear more amiable to her than a child of God without it? What words can sufficiently express the inexcusable folly of such a choice? What a laughingstock, unless she severely repent, will she be to all the devils in hell, when her wealthy companion has dragged her down to his own place of torment. Are there any of you present before God who are concerned in any of these matters?
Give me leave, with great plainness of speech, to apply to your consciences in the sight of God. You, whom God hath entrusted with sons or daughters, is your eye single in choosing partners for them? What qualifications do you seek in your sons and daughters in law, religion, or riches? Which is your first consideration? Are you not of the old heathen's mind? Quarunda pecunia primum, vertus post numus? Seek money first, let virtue then be sought. Bring the matter to a point. Which will you prefer, a rich heathen or a pious Christian? A child of the devil with an estate, or the child of God without it? A lord or gentleman with the devil in his heart? He does not hide it. His speech bereath him.
Or a tradesman, who you have reason to believe, has Christ dwelling in his heart. Oh, how great is that darkness which makes you prefer a child of the devil to a child of God, which causes you to prefer the poor trash of worldly wealth which flies as a shadow to the riches of eternal glory. I call upon you more especially who are called Methodists. In the sight of the great God, upwards of fifty years I have ministered unto you. I have been your servant for Christ's sake. During this time I have given you many solemn warnings on this head. I now give you one more, perhaps the last. Dare any of you, in choosing your calling or situation, eye the things on earth rather than the things above? In choosing a profession?
Or a companion for life for your child? Do you look at earth or heaven? And can you deliberately prefer, either for yourself or your offspring, a child of the devil with money, to a child of God without it? Where the very heathens cry out, O cune in teris animae et celestium inanes! O souls, bow down to earth, strangers to heaven! Repent, repent of your vile earthly-mindedness. Renounce the title of Christians, or prefer, both in your own case and the case of your children, grace to money and heaven to earth. From the time to come, at least, let your eye be single, that your whole body may be full of light.
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11 11 - On Worldly Folly 15:52
by John Wesley. Sermon 119. On Worldly Folly. But God said unto him, Thou fool. Luke 12.20. But one of these fools is commonly wiser in his own eyes than seven men that can render a reason. If it were possible for a Christian, for one that has the mind which was in Christ, to despise anyone, He would cordially despise those who suppose they are the men, and wisdom shall die with them. You may see one of these, painted to the life, in the verses preceding the text. The ground of a certain rich man, says our blessed Lord, brought forth plenteously. Luke 12, 16. And he reasoned within himself, saying, What shall I do? For I have no room where to bestow my fruits. And he said, This will do. I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there I will bestow all my fruits and my goods.
And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years. Take thy ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool. I propose by the assistance of God, one, to open and explain these few full words, and two, to apply them to your conscience. 1. To open and explain them. A little before, our Lord had been giving a solemn caution to one who spoke to him about dividing his inheritance. Beware of covetousness, for the life of a man, that is, the happiness of it, does not consist in the abundance of the things that he possesseth. To prove and illustrate this weighty truth, our Lord relates this remarkable story. It is not improbable. It was one that had lately occurred, and that was fresh in the memory of some that were present.
The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plenteously. The riches of the ancients consisted chiefly in the fruits of the earth. And he said within himself, What shall I do? The very language of want and distress, the voice of one that is afflicted, and groaning under his burden. What shalt thou do? Why, are not those at the door whom God hath appointed to receive what thou canst spare? What shalt thou do? Why, dispense abroad, and give to the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, be a father to the fatherless, and a husband to the widow? Freely thou hast received, freely give. Oh no, he is wiser than this comes to. He knows better than so. And he said, This will I do. Without asking God's leave, or thinking about Him any more than if there were no God in heaven or on earth.
I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there will I bestow all my goods and all my fruits. My fruits? They are as much thine as the clouds that fly over thy head, as much as the winds that blow around thee, which doubtless thou canst hold in thy fists. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years. Soul, thou hast much goods? Are then corn and wine and oil the goods of an immortal spirit, laid up for many years? Who told thee so? Believe him not, he was a liar from the beginning. He could not prolong thy life. If he would, God alone is the giver of life and death. And he would not, if he could, but would immediately drag thee down to his own sad abode.
Soul, take thy ease, eat, drink, and be merry. How replete with folly and madness is every part of this wonderful soliloquy. Eat and drink? Will thy spirit then eat and drink? Yea, but not of earthly food. Thou wilt soon eat livid flame, and drink of the lake of fire burning with brimstone. But wilt thou then drink and be merry? Nay, there will be no mirth in those horrid shades. Those caverns will resound with no music, but weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. But while he was applauding his own wisdom, God said unto him, Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee. And then who shall those things be which thou hast prepared? Let us consider his words a little more attentively.
He said within himself, What shall I do? And is not the answer ready? Do good. Do all the good thou canst. Let thy plenty supply thy neighbor's wants, and thou wilt never want something to do. Canst thou find none that need the necessities of life, that are pinched with cold or hunger, none that have not ramment to put on, or a place where to lay their head, none that are wasted with pining sickness, none that are languishing in prison? If you duly considered our Lord's words, the poor have you always with you, you would no more ask, What shall I do? How different was the purpose of this poor madman! I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there I will bestow all my goods. You may just as well bury them in the earth, or cast them into the sea.
This will just as well answer the end for which God entrusted thee with them. But let us examine a little farther the remaining part of his resolution. I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years. Take thy ease, eat, drink, and be merry. What, are these the goods of a never-dying spirit? As well may thy body feed on the fleeting breeze as thy soul on earthly fruits. Excellent counsel, then, to such a spirit, to eat and drink. To a spirit made equal to angels, made an incorruptible picture of the God of glory, to feed not on corruptible things, but on the fruit of the tree of life, which grows in the midst of the paradise of God. It is no marvel, then, that God should say unto him, Thou fool, for this terrible reason were there no other.
This night shall thy soul be required of thee. And art thou born to die? To lay this body down, and must thy trembling spirit fly into a land unknown, a land of deepest shade, unpierced by human thought, the dreary regions of the dead, where all things are forgot? And whose then shall all the things be which thou hast provided?
The second thing which I proposed was to apply these considerations, which, it is certain, are some of the most important that can enter into the heart of man. In one sense, indeed, they have been applied already, for what has been said has been all application, but I wish every one who reads or hears these words directly to apply them to his own soul. Does it not concern every one that hears? The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully. To inquire, was this ever the case with me? Have I now, or have I ever heretofore had more worldly goods given than I wanted? And what were my thoughts upon the occasion? Did I say in my heart, What shall I do? Was I distressed by my abundance?
Did I think, I have much goods laid up for many years? Many years! What is thy life, if protracted to its utmost span? Is it not a vapor, that just appeareth and vanisheth away? Say not then, I will pull down my barns, but say to God in the secret of thy heart, Lord, save or I perish. See my riches increase, let me not set my heart upon them. Thou seest I stand upon slippery ground. Do thou undertake for me? Uphold me, Savior, or I fall, or reach me forth thy gracious hand. Only for help on thee I call, only by faith in thee I stand. See, Lord, how greatly my substance increases. Nothing less than thy almighty power can prevent my setting my heart upon it, and being crushed lower than the grave.
I ask thee, O Lord, what shall I do? First of all, endeavor to be deeply sensible of thy danger, and make it matter of earnest and constant prayer, that thou mayest never lose that sense of it. Pray that thou mayest always feel thyself standing on the brink of a precipice. Meantime, let the language of thy heart be, having more means, I will do more good, by the grace of God, than ever I did before. All the additional goods which it hath pleased God to put into my hands I am resolved to lay out with all diligence in additional works of mercy, and hereby shall I lay up for myself a sure foundation, that I may attain eternal life. Thou no longer talkest of thy goods or thy fruits, knowing they are not thine but God's.
The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof. He is the proprietor of heaven and earth. He cannot divest himself of his glory. He must be the Lord, the possessor of all that is. Only he hath left a portion of his goods in thy hands, for such uses as he has specified. How long he will be pleased to lodge them with thee, thou dost not yet know, perhaps only till to-morrow, or to-night. Therefore talk not, think not of many years. Knowest thou not? That thou art a creature of a day, that is crushed before the moth, that the breath which is in thy nostrils may be taken away at a moment's warning, that it may be resumed by him that gave it, at a time thou thinkest not of it. How knowest thou but the next time thou liest down on thy bed, thou mayest hear, this night shall thy soul be required of thee?
Is not thy life as unstable as a cloud, fluctuating as a bubble on the water? It fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. Many years! Who is sure of one day? And is it not an instance both of the wisdom and goodness of God, that He holds thy breath in His own hand, and deals it out from moment to moment, that thou mayest always remember to live each day as if it were the last? And after the few days thou shalt have spent under the sun, how soon it will be said. A heap of dust is all remains of thee. Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be. Consider again the exquisite folly of that saying, Soul, thou hast much goods. Are then the products of the earth food for a heaven-born spirit?
Is there any composition of earth and water, yea, though air and fire be added thereto, which can feed those beings of a higher order? What similitude is there between those ethereal spirits and these base-born clods of earth? Examine the rest of this wise soliloquy, and see how it will apply to yourself. Soul, take thy ease. O vain hope! Can ease to a spirit spring out of the ground? Suppose the soil were ever so improved. Can it yield such a harvest? Eat, drink, and be merry? What? Can thy soul eat and drink? Yea, manna such as angels eat, pure delights for spirits fit. But these do not grow on earthly ground. They are only found in the paradise of God. But suppose the voice which commands life and death pronounce, This night thy soul shall be required of thee.
Then whose are all those things thou hast provided? Alas, they are not thine. Thou hast no longer any part or lot in any of the things that are under the sun. Thou hast then no more share in any of these things of earth, than if the earth and the works of it were burnt up. Naked thou camest out of thy mother's womb, and naked shalt thou return. Thou hast heaped up many things, but for what end? To leave them all behind thee. Poor shade! Thou art now stripped of all. Not even hope is left. Observe the remark which our Lord has left upon the whole occurrence. So is every one who layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God. Such a fool, such an egregious madman, as it is beyond the power of language to express.
However wise he may be in his own eyes, and perhaps in those of his neighbor, he is in reality the greatest fool under heaven. Who heapeth up things from which he must soon be separated for ever. And whoever is seeking happiness in the things that perish is laying up treasure for himself. This is absolutely inconsistent with being rich, or rather growing toward God. With obeying that scriptural command, My son, give me thy heart. He who is child of God can truly say, All my riches are above. All my treasure is thy love. He can testify, All my desire is unto thee, and to the remembrance of thy name. Let every one who readeth these words narrowly search his own heart. Where hast thou laid up thy treasure hitherto?
Where art thou laying it up now? Art thou laboring to be rich toward God, or to lay up earthly goods? Which takes up the greater part of thy thoughts? Thou that art careful for outward things, diligent in doing good, and exact in outward duties, beware of covetousness, of decent, honorable love of money, and of a desire to lay up treasures on earth. Lay up treasures in heaven. A few days hence thou wilt step into a land of darkness, where earthly fruits will be of no avail. Where thou wilt not be capable of eating and drinking or gratifying any of the senses, what benefit wilt thou then receive from all thou hast laid up in this world? What satisfaction in all which thou hast treasured up? All thou hast left behind thee.
Left behind thee? What? Couldst thou then take nothing with thee into the everlasting habitations? Nay, then, lay up treasure, before thou go hence, which fadeth not away. Preached at Ballham, February 19th, 1790. End of Section 11. Recording by Lawrence Trask. Mount Vernon, Ohio. Interfaceaudio.com.
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12 12 - On the Wedding Garment 18:37
Sermon 120, On the Wedding Garment. How camest thou in hither, not having a wedding garment? Matthew 22, 12. In the verses preceding the text, we read, After these things Jesus spake to them again in parables, and said, A certain king made a supper for his son. And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw one who had not on a wedding garment. And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into outer darkness. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Upon this parable, one of our most celebrated expositors comments in the following manner. The design of this parable is to set forth that gracious supply made by God to men in and by the preaching of the gospel.
To invite them to this, God sent forth His servants, the prophets and apostles. And on these words, Why camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? He proceeds thus. The punishment of whom ought not to discourage us, or make us turn our backs upon the holy ordinances. Certainly it ought not, but nothing of this kind can be inferred from this parable, which has no reference to the ordinances, any more than to baptism and marriage. And probably we should never have imagined it, but that the word supper occurred therein. However, most of the English annotators have fallen into the same mistake with Mr. Burkett. And so have thousands of their readers. Yet a mistake it certainly is, and such a mistake as has not any shadow of foundation in the text.
It is true indeed that none ought to approach the Lord's table without habitual, at least if not actual, preparation, that is, a firm purpose to keep all the commandments of God, and a sincere desire to receive all His promises. But that obligation cannot be inferred from this text, though it may be from many other passages of Scripture. But there is no need of multiplying texts. One is as good as a thousand. There needs no more to induce any man of a tender conscience to communicate at all opportunities than that single commandment of our Lord, Do this in remembrance of Me. But whatever preparation is necessary, in order to our being worthy partakers of the Lord's Supper, it has no relation at all to the wedding garment mentioned in this parable.
It cannot, for that commemoration of His death was not then ordained. It relates wholly to the proceedings of our Lord when He comes in the clouds of heaven to judge the quick and the dead. and to the qualifications which will then be necessary to their inheriting the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world. Many excellent men who are thoroughly apprised of this, who are convinced the wedding garment here mentioned is not to be understood of any qualification for the Lord's Supper, but of the qualification for glory. Interpret it of the righteousness of Christ, which, they say, is the sole qualification for heaven, this being the only righteousness wherein any man can stand in the day of the Lord.
For who, they ask, will then dare appear before the great God, save in the righteousness of His well-beloved Son? Shall we not then, at least, if not before, find the need of having a better righteousness than our own? And what other can that be than the righteousness of God our Savior? The late pious and ingenious Mr. Hervey descends largely upon this, particularly in his elaborate dialogues between Theron and Aspasio. Another elegant writer, now I trust with God, speaks strongly to the same effect in the preface to his comment on St. Paul's epistle to the Romans. We certainly, says he, shall need a better righteousness than our own. Wherein to stand at the bar of God in the day of judgment?
I do not understand the expression. Is it scriptural? Do we read it in the Bible, either in the Old Testament or the New? I doubt it is an unscriptural, awkward phrase which has no determinate meaning. If you mean by that odd, uncouth question, in whose righteousness are you to stand at the last day? For whose sake, or by whose merit, do you expect to enter into the glory of God? I answer, without the least hesitation, for the sake of Jesus Christ the righteous. It is through His merits alone that all believers are saved, that is justified, saved from the guilt, sanctified, saved from the nature of sin, and glorified, taken into heaven.
It may be worth our while to spend a few more words on this important point. Is it possible to devise a more unintelligible expression than this? In what righteousness are we to stand before God at the last day? Why do you not speak plainly and say, for whose sake do you look to be saved? Any plain peasant would then readily answer, for the sake of Jesus Christ. But all those dark ambiguous phrases tend only to puzzle the cause and open a way for unwary hearers to slide into antinomianism. Is there any expression similar to this of the wedding garment to be found in holy scripture? In the revelation we find mention of linen, white and clean, which is the righteousness of the saints. And this, too, many vehemently contend, means the righteousness of Christ.
But then are we to reconcile this with that passage in the seventh chapter? They have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Will they say, The righteousness of Christ was washed and made white in the blood of Christ? Away with such antimonium jargon! Is not the plain meaning this? It was from the atoning blood that the very righteousness of the saints derived its value and acceptableness with God.
In the nineteenth chapter of the Revelation, at the ninth verse, there is an expression which comes nearer to this. The wedding supper of the Lamb. Revelation 19. There is a near resemblance between this and the marriage supper mentioned in the parable. Yet they are not altogether the same. There is a clear difference between them. The supper mentioned in the parable belongs to the church militant, that mentioned in the revelation to the church triumphant. This one to the kingdom of God on earth, the other to the kingdom of God in heaven. Accordingly, in the former there may be found those who have not a wedding garment, but there will be none such to be found in the latter. No, not in that great multitude which no man can number, out of every kindred and tongue and people and nation.
They will all be kings and priests unto God, and shall reign with Him for ever and ever.
Does not that expression The righteousness of the saint point out what is the wedding garment in the parable. It is the holiness without which no man shall see the Lord. The righteousness of Christ is doubtless necessary for any soul that enters into glory, but so is personal holiness, too, for every child of man. But it is highly needful to be observed that they are necessary in different respects. The former is necessary to entitle us to heaven, the latter to qualify us for it. Without the righteousness of Christ, we could have no claim to glory. Without holiness, we could have no fitness for it. By the former, we become members of Christ, children of God, and heirs of the kingdom of heaven.
By the latter, we are made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light. From the very time that the Son of God delivered this weighty truth to the children of men, that all who had not the wedding garment would be cast into outward darkness, where are weeping and gnashing of teeth. The enemy of souls has been laboring to obscure it, that they might still seek death in the error of their life. In many ways has he tried to disguise the holiness without which we cannot be saved. How many things have been palmed, even upon the Christian world, in the place of this? Some of these are utterly contrary thereto, and subversive of it. Some were no ways connected with or related to it, but useless and insignificant trifles.
Others might be deemed to be some part of it, but by no means the whole. It may be of use to enumerate some of them, lest ye should be ignorant of Satan's devices. Of the first sort, things prescribed as Christian holiness, although flatly contrary thereto, is idolatry. How has this in various shapes been taught, and is to this day as essential to holiness? How diligently is it now circulated in a great part of the Christian Church? Some of their idols are silver and gold, or wood and stone, graven by art in man's device. Some men of like passions with themselves, particularly the apostles of our Lord and the Virgin Mary. To these they add numberless saints of their own creation, with no small company of angels.
Another thing as directly contrary to the whole tenor of true religion is what is diligently taught in many parts of the Christian Church. I mean the spirit of persecution, of persecuting their brethren even unto death, So that the earth has often been covered with blood by those who were called Christians in order to make their calling and election sure. It is true, many, even in the Church of Rome, who were taught this horrid doctrine, now seem to be ashamed of it. But have the heads of that community as openly and explicitly renounced the capital doctrine of devils as they avowed it in the Council of Constance, and practiced it for many ages? Till they have done this, They will be chargeable with the blood of Jerome of Prague, basely murdered, and of many thousands, both in the sight of God and man.
Let it not be said, this does not concern us Protestants. We think and let think. We abhor the spirit of persecution and maintain as indisputable truth that every rational creature has a right to worship God as he is persuaded in his own mind. But are we true to our own principles? So far that we do not use spire and faggot. We do not persecute unto blood those that do not subscribe to our opinions. Blessed be God, the laws of our country do not allow of this. But is there no such thing to be found in England as domestic persecution? The saying or doing anything unkind to another for following his own conscience is a species of persecution. Now, are we all clear of this? Is there no husband who in this sense persecutes his wife, who uses her unkindly in word or deed for worshipping God after her own conscience?
Do no parents thus persecute their children, no masters or mistresses their servants? If they do this, and think they do God's service therein, they must not cast the first stone at the Roman Catholics. When things of an indifferent nature are represented as necessary to salvation, it is a folly of the same kind, though not of the same magnitude. Indeed, it is not a little sin to represent trifles as necessary to salvation, such as going of pilgrimages, or anything that is not expressly enjoined in the Holy Scripture. Among these we may undoubtedly rank orthodoxy or right opinions. We know indeed that wrong opinions in religion naturally lead to wrong tempers or wrong practices, and that consequently it is our bounden duty to pray that we may have a right judgment in all things.
But still, a man may judge as accurately as the devil, and yet be as wicked as he. Something more excusable are they who imagine holiness to consist in things that are only a part of it, that is, when they are connected with the rest. Otherwise, they are no part of it at all. Suppose in doing no harm. And how exceeding common is this! How many take holiness and harmlessness to mean one and the same thing? Whereas were a man as harmless as a post, he might be as far from holiness as heaven from earth. Suppose a man, therefore, to be exactly honest, to pay everyone his own, to cheat no man, to wrong no man, to hurt no man. To be just in all his dealings. Suppose a woman to be uniformly modest and virtuous in all her words and actions.
Suppose the one and the other to be steady practisers of morality, that is, of justice, mercy, and truth. Yet all this, though it is good as far as it goes, is but a part of Christian holiness. Yea, suppose a person of this amiable character, to do much good wherever he is, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, Relieve the stranger, the sick, the prisoner, yea, and to save many souls from death. It is possible he may still fall far short of that holiness, without which he cannot see the Lord. What, then, is that holiness which is the true wedding garment, the only qualification for glory, in Christ Jesus, that is, according to the Christian institution, whatever be the case of the heathen world?
Neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation, the renewal of the soul in the image of God wherein it was created. In Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but faith which worketh by love. Galatians 5.6 It first, through the energy of God, worketh love to God in all mankind, and by this love every holy and heavenly temper, in particular lowliness, meekness, gentleness, temperance, and longsuffering. It is neither circumcision, the attending on all the Christian ordinances, nor uncircumcision, the fulfilling of all heathen morality, but the keeping the commandments of God, Particularly those, thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself.
In a word, holiness is having the mind that was in Christ, and the walking as Christ walked. Such has been my judgment for these threescore years without any material alteration. Only about fifty years ago I had a clearer view than before of justification by faith. And in this, from that very hour, I never varied, no, not an hair's breadth. Nevertheless, an ingenious man has publicly accused me of a thousand variations. I pray God not lay this to his charge. I am now on the borders of the grave, but by the grace of God I still witness the same confession. Indeed, some have supposed that when I began to declare, by grace ye are saved through faith, I retracted what I had before maintained. Without holiness no man shall see the Lord.
But it is an entire mistake. These scriptures well consist with each other, the meaning of the former being plainly this, by faith we are saved from sin and made holy. The imagination that faith supersedes holiness is the marrow of antinomianism. The sum of all is this. The God of love is willing to save all the souls that He has made. This He has proclaimed to them in His word, together with the terms of salvation, revealed by the Son of His love, who gave His own life, that they that believe in Him might have everlasting life. And for these He has prepared a kingdom from the foundation of the world. But He will not force them to accept it. He leaves them in the hands of their own counsel. He saith, Behold, I set before you life and death, blessing and cursing.
Choose life, that ye may live. Choose holiness by my grace, which is the way, the only way, to everlasting life. He cries aloud, Be holy and be happy, happy in this world, and happy in the world to come. Holiness becometh his house for ever. This is the wedding garment of all that are called to the marriage of the Lamb. Clothed in this, they will not be found naked. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. But as to all who appear in the last day without the wedding garment, the Judge will say, Cast them into outer darkness, for there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Matalay March 26th, 1790. End of section 12 of Sermons on Several Occasions. Recording by Lawrence Trask.
Mount Vernon, Ohio. Interfaceaudio.com.
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13 13 - Human Life a Dream 21:33
Sermons on Several Occasions by John Wesley Sermon 121 Human Life, A Dream Even like as a dream when one waketh, so shalt thou make their image to vanish out of the city. Psalm 73, 20 Anyone that considers the foregoing verses will easily observe that the psalmist is speaking directly of the wicked. That prosper in their wickedness. It is very common for these utterly to forget that they are creatures of a day, to live as if they were never to die, as if their present state was to endure for ever, or at least as if they were indisputably sure that they had much goods laid up for many years, so that they might safely say, Soul, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But how miserable a mistake is this!
How often does God say to such a one, Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee. Well then may it be said of them, O how suddenly do they consume, perish, and come to a fearful end. Yea, even like as a dream when one awaketh, so shalt thou make their image to vanish out of the city. But I would at present carry this thought farther. I would consider it in a general sense, and show how near a resemblance there is between human life and a dream. An ancient poet carries the comparison farther still when he styles life the dream of a shadow. And so does Cowley when he cries out, O life, thou nothing's younger brother, so like that we mistake the one for the other. But setting these and all other flights of poetry aside, I would seriously inquire wherein this resemblance lies, wherein the analogy between the one and the other does properly consist.
In order to this, I would inquire first, what is a dream? You will say, who does not know this? Might you not rather say, who does know? Is there anything more mysterious in nature? Who is there that has not experienced it? That has not dreamed a thousand times, yet he is no more able to explain the nature of it than he is to grasp the skies. Who can give any clear satisfactory account of the parent of dreams, sleep? It is true, many physicians have attempted this, but they have attempted it in vain. They have talked learnedly about it, but have left the matter at last just as dark as it was before. They tell us some of its properties and effects, But none can tell what is the essence of it. However, we know the origin of dreams, and that with some degree of certainty.
There can be no doubt, but some of them arise from the present constitution of the body, while others of them are probably occasioned by the passions of the mind. Again, we are clearly informed in Scripture that some are caused by the operation of good angels. As others, undoubtedly, are owing to the power and malice of evil angels, if we may dare suppose that there are any such now, or at least that they have anything to do in the world. From the same divine treasury of knowledge we learn that, on some extraordinary occasions, the Great Father of Spirits has manifested Himself to human spirits in dreams and visions of the night. But which of all these arise from natural? Which, from supernatural influence, we are many times not able to determine.
And how can we certainly distinguish between our dreams and our waking thoughts? What criterion is there by which we may surely know whether we are awake or asleep? It is true, as soon as we awake out of sleep, we know we have been in a dream, and are now awake. But how shall we know that a dream is such while we continue therein? What is a dream? To give a gross and superficial, not a philosophical account of it, it is a series of persons and things presented to our mind in sleep, which have no being but in our imagination. A dream, therefore, is a kind of digression from our real life. It seems to be a sort of echo of what was said or done a little when we were awake. Or may we say a dream is a fragment of life, broken off at both ends, not connected either with the part that goes before, or with that which follows after.
And is there any better way of distinguishing our dreams from our awaking thoughts than by this very circumstance? It is a kind of parentheses, inserted in life, as that is in a discourse, which goes on equally well either with it or without it. By this, then, we may infallibly know a dream, by its being broken off at both ends, by its having no proper connection with the real things which either precede it or follow it. It is not needful to prove that there is a near resemblance between these transient dreams and the dream of life. It may be of more use to illustrate this important truth, to place it in as striking a light as possible. Let us then seriously consider In a few obvious particulars, the case of one that is just awaking out of life, and opening his eyes in eternity.
Let us then propose the case. Let us suppose we had now before us one that was just passed into the world of spirits. Might not you address such a newborn soul in some such manner as this? You have been an inhabitant of earth forty, perhaps fifty or sixty years, but now God has altered his voice. Awake! Thou that sleepest, you awake, you arise, you have no more to do with these poor transient shadows. Arise, and shake thyself from the dust. See, all is real here, all is permanent, all eternal, far more stable than the foundations of the earth, yea, than the pillars of that lower heaven. Now that your eyes are open, see how inexpressibly different are all the things that are now round about you.
What a difference do you perceive in yourself? Where is your body, your house of clay? Where are your limbs, your hands, your feet, your head? There they lie, cold, insensible. No anger hereafter or shame shall redden the innocent clay. Extinct is the animal flame, and passion is vanished away. What a change is in the immortal spirit! You see everything around you, but how? Not with eyes of flesh and blood. You hear, but not by a stream of undulating air striking on an extended membrane. You feel, but in how wonderful a manner. You have no nerves to convey the ethereal fire to the common sensory. Rather, are you not now all eye, all ear, all feeling, all perception? How different, now you are thoroughly awake, are all the objects around you.
Where are the houses and gardens and fields and cities which you lately saw? Where are the rivers and seas and everlasting hills? Was it then only in a dream that our poet discovered, Earth hath this variety from heaven, of pleasure situate in hill and dale? Nay, I doubt all these vanished away like smoke the moment you awoke out of the body. How strange must not only the manner of existence appear, and the place wherein you are, if it may be called a place, though who can define or describe the place of spirits, but the inhabitants of that unknown region, whether they are of the number of those unhappy spirits that kept not their first estate, or of those holy ones that still minister to the heirs of salvation.
How strange are the employments of those spirits with which you are now surrounded. How bitter are they to the taste of those that are still dreaming upon earth! I have no relish, said one of these, a much applauded wit who has lately left the body, for sitting upon a cloud all day long and singing praise to God. We may easily believe Him, and there is no danger of His being put to that trouble. Nevertheless, there is no trouble to them who cease not day and night, but continually sing, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabbath. Suppose this be the case with any of you that are now present before God. It may be so tomorrow, perhaps tonight, perhaps this night, your soul may be required of you. The dream of life may end, and you may wake into broad eternity.
See, there lies the poor inanimate carcass, shortly to be sown in corruption and dishonor. But where is the immortal, incorruptible spirit? There it stands, naked before the eyes of God. Meantime, what has become of all the affairs which you have been eagerly engaged in under the sun? What profit have you reaped of all your labor and care? Does your money follow you? No, you have left it behind you, the same thing to you as if it had vanished into air. Does your gay or rich apparel follow you? Your body is clothed with dust and rottenness. Your soul, indeed, is clothed with immortality. But, oh, what immortality? Is it an immortality of happiness and glory, or of shame and everlasting contempt?
Where is the honor, the pomp of the rich and great, the applause that surrounded you? All gone, all are vanished away, like as a shadow that departeth. The play is over. said M. Moltres, when he saw the ball pierce the temples of his dying master, Charles XII, King of Sweden, at the siege of Frederikshall. And what cared the courtier for this? No more than if it had been the conclusion of a farce or dance. But while the buffoon slept on and took his rest, it was not so with the monarch. Though he was not terrified with anything on earth, he would be at the very gates of Hell. Vain Valour. In the very article of death he grasped the hilt of his sword. But where was he the next moment, when the sword dropped out of his hand, and the soul out of his body?
Then ended the splendid dream of royalty, of glory, of destroying cities, and conquering kingdoms. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished? What are the weapons that are so terrible among us, to the inhabitants of eternity? How are the wise, the learned, the poet, the critic fallen, and their glory vanished away? How is the beauty fallen, the late idol of a gazing crowd? In how complete a sense are the daughters of music brought low, and all the instruments thereof forgotten? Are you not now convinced that, according to the Hebrew proverb, a living dog is better than a dead lion? For the living know, yea, must know, unless they obstinately refuse, that they shall die. But the dead know not anything, that will avail for the ease of their pain, or to lessen their misery.
Also their hope and fear, and their desire, all are perished, all of them are fled. They have not any portion in the things that are done under the sun. Where, indeed, is the hope of those who were lately laying deep schemes, and saying, to-day, to-morrow, we will go to such a city, and continue there a year, and traffic, and get gain? How totally had they forgotten that wise admonition! Ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is a vapor that appeareth a while, and then vanisheth away. Where is all your business? Where your worldly cares, your troubles or engagements, all these things are fled away like smoke, and your soul is left. And how is it qualified for the enjoyment of this new world?
Has it a relish for the objects and enjoyments of the invisible world? Are your affections loosened from the things below, and fixed on things above, fixed on that place where Jesus sitteth at the right hand of God? Then happy are ye, and when he whom ye love shall appear, you shall also appear with him in glory. But how do you relish the company that surrounds you? Your old companions are gone, a great part of them probably separated from you never to return. Are your present companions angels of light, ministering spirits that now whispered, Sister Spirit, come away? We are sent to conduct thee over that gulf into Abraham's bosom. And what are those? Some of the souls of the righteous, whom thou didst formerly relieve with the mammon of unrighteousness, and who are now commissioned by your common Lord to receive, to welcome you into the everlasting habitations.
Then the angels of darkness will quickly discern they have no part in you. So they must either hover at a distance, or flee away in despair. Are some of these happy spirits that take acquaintance with you, the same that traveled with you below, and bore a part in your temptations, that together with you fought the good fight of faith, and laid hold on eternal life? As you then wept together, you may rejoice together, you and your guardian angels, perhaps. In order to increase your thankfulness for being delivered from so great a death, they may give you a view of the realms below, those regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace and rest can never dwell. See, on the other hand, the mansions which were prepared for you from the foundation of the world.
Oh, what a difference between the dream that is past and the real scene that is now present with thee! Look up, see. No need of the sun in that day, which never is followed by night, where Jesus's beauties display a pure and permanent light. Look down! What a prison is there! Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fire! And what inhabitants! What horrid, fearful shapes, emblems of the rage against God and man! The envy, fury, despair fixed within, causing them to gnash their teeth at Him they so long despised. Meanwhile does it comfort them to see, across the great gulf, the righteous in Abraham's bosom? What a place is that! What a house of God eternal in the heavens! Earth is only his footstool.
Yea, the spacious firmament on high, and all the blue ethereal sky. Well then, may we say to its inhabitants, proclaim the glories of the Lord, disperse through all the heavenly street. Whose boundless treasures can afford, so rich a pavement for his feet.
And yet how inconsiderable is the glory of that house, compared to that of its great inhabitant, in view of whom all the firstborn sons of light, angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven, full of light as they are full of love. Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. How wonderful, then! Now the dream of life is over! Now you are quite awake! Do all these scenes appear? Even such a sight is never entered, or could enter into your hearts to conceive. How are all those that awake up after his likeness, now satisfied with it? They have now a portion of real, solid, incorruptible, that fadeth not away. Meantime, how exquisitely wretched are they, to waive all other considerations, have chosen for their portion those transitory shadows which now are vanished, and have left them in the abyss of real misery, which must remain to all eternity.
Now considering that every child of man who is yet upon the earth must sooner or later wake out of this dream, and enter real life, How infinitely does it concern every one of us to attend to this before our great change comes? Of what importance is it to be continually sensible of the condition wherein we stand? How advisable, by every possible means, to connect the ideas of time and eternity, so to associate them together, that the thought of one may never recur to your mind without the thought of the other. It is our highest wisdom to associate the ideas of the visible and invisible world, to connect temporal and spiritual, mortal and immortal being. Indeed, in our common dreams we do not usually know we are asleep whilst we are in the middle of our dream, as neither do we know it while we are in the midst of the dream which we call life.
But you may be conscious of it now. God grant you may before you awake in a winding sheet of fire. What an admirable foundation for thus associating the ideas of time and eternity, of the visible and invisible world, is laid in the very nature of religion. For what is religion? I mean scriptural religion. For all other is the vainest of all dreams. What is the very root of this religion? It is Immanuel, God with us, God in man, heaven connected with earth, the unspeakable union of mortal with immortal. For truly our fellowship, may all Christians say, is with the Father and with His Son, Jesus Christ. God hath given unto us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. What follows? He that hath the Son hath life.
And he that hath not the Son of God hath not life. But how shall we retain a constant sense of this? I have often thought in my waking hours, now when I fall asleep and see such and such things, I will remember it was but a dream. Yet I could not, while the dream lasted, and probably none else can. But it is otherwise with the dream of life, which we do remember to be such even while it lasts. And if we do forget it, as we are indeed apt to do, a friend may remind us of it. It is much to be wished that such a friend were always near, one that would frequently sound in our ear, Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead. Soon you will awake in true real life. You will stand, a naked spirit, in the world of spirits, before the face of the great God.
How admirably does this life of God branch out into the whole of religion? I mean scriptural religion. As soon as God reveals His Son in the heart of a sinner, He is enabled to say, He then rejoices in hope of the glory of God. Even with joy unspeakable. And in consequence, both of this faith and hope, the love of God is shed abroad in His heart, which, filling the soul with love to all mankind, is the fulfilling of the law. And how wonderfully do both faith and hope and love connect God with man, and time with eternity! In consideration of this, we may boldly say, Vanish then this world of shadows, Pass the former things away. Lord, appear, appear to glad us, with the dawn of endless day. O conclude this mortal story, throw this universe aside.
Come, eternal King of glory, now descend and take thy bride. August 1789 Mount Vernon, Ohio. InterfaceAudio.com.
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14 14 - On Faith 25:13
On Faith.
Quote, Now faith is the evidence of things not seen. Many times have I thought, many times have I spoke, many times have I wrote upon these words, and yet there appears to be a depth in them which I am in no wise able to fathom. Faith is, in one sense of the word, a divine conviction of God and of the things of God. In another, nearly related to, yet not altogether the same, It is a divine conviction of the invisible and eternal world. In this sense, I would now consider I am now an immortal spirit, strangely connected with a little portion of earth, but this is only for a while. In a short time I am to quit this tenement of clay, and to remove into another state, which the living know not, and the dead cannot, or they may not tell.
What kind of existence shall I then enter upon, When my spirit has launched out of the body, how shall I feel myself, perceive my own being? How shall I discern the things that are round about me, either material or spiritual objects? When my eyes no longer transmit the rays of light, how will the naked spirit see? When the organs of hearing are moldered into dust, in what manner shall I hear? When the brain is of no further use, what means of thinking shall I have? When my whole body resolved into senseless earth, what means shall I have of gaining knowledge? How strange, how incomprehensible, are the means whereby I shall then take knowledge even of the material world. Will things appear then as they do now, of the same size, shape, and color?
Or will they be altered in any or all these respects? How will the sun, moon, and stars appear? The sublunary heavens, the planetary heavens, the region of the fixed stars, how the fields of ether, which we may conceive to be millions of miles beyond them. Of all this we know nothing yet, and, indeed, we need to know nothing. What, then, can we know of those innumerable objects which properly belong to the invisible world, which a mortal, "'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into our hearts to conceive?' What a scene will then be opened, when the regions of Hades are displayed without a covering. Our English translator seems to have been much at a loss for a word to render this.
Indeed, two hundred years ago it was tolerably expressed by the word Hell, which then signified much the same with the word Hades, namely, the invisible world. Accordingly, By Christ descending into hell they meant his body remained in the grave, and his soul remained in Hades, which is the receptacle of separate spirits, from death to the resurrection. Here we cannot doubt, but the spirits of righteousness are inexpressively happy. They are, as St. Paul expressed it, with the Lord, favored with so intimate a communion with him as is far better than whatever the chief of the apostles experienced while in this world. On the other hand, we learn from our Lord's own account of Dives and Lazarus that the rich man, from the moment he left the world, entered into a state of torment.
And there is a great gulf fixed in Hades between the place of the Holy and that of unholy spirits, which it is impossible for either the one or the other to pass over. Indeed, a gentleman of great learning, the Honorable Mr. Alexander Campbell, in his account of the Middle State, Published not many years ago, seems to suppose that wicked souls may amend in Hades, and then remove to a happier mansion. He has great hopes that the rich man, mentioned by our Lord in particular, might be purified by that penal fire, till, in process of time, he might be qualified for a better abode. But who can reconcile this with Abraham's assertion that none can pass over the great gulf? I cannot therefore but think.
that all those who are with the rich man in the unhappy division of Hades will remain there, howling and blaspheming, cursing God and looking upward, till they are cast into the everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. And, on the other hand, can we reasonably doubt but that those who are now in Paradise, in Abraham's bosoms, all the holy souls who have been discharged from the body from the beginning of the world on to this day, Will be continually ripening for heaven, will be perpetually holier and happier, till they are received into the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world? But who can inform us in what part of the universe Hades is situated? This abode of both happy and unhappy spirits.
Till they are reunited to their bodies. It has not pleased God to reveal anything concerning it in the Holy Scripture. And consequently, it is not possible for us to form any judgment, or even conjecture about it. Neither are we informed how either one or the other are employed during the time of their abode there. Yet may we not probably suppose that the governor of the world may sometimes permit wicked souls to do his gloomy errands in the deep, or, perhaps, in conjunction with evil angels, to inflict vengeance on wicked men? Or will many of them be shut up in the chains of darkness unto the great judgment of the great day? In the meantime, may we not probably suppose that the spirits of the just, though generally lodged in Paradise, yet may sometimes, in conjunction with the holy angels, minister to the heirs of salvation?
May they not sometimes, on errands of love, revisit their brethren below? It is a pleasing thought that some of these human spirits attending with us or in the room of angels, are of the number of those that were dear to us while they were in the body. So that there is no absurdity in the question, Have ye your own flesh forgot? By a common ransom brought? Can death's interposing tide, spirits won in Christ divide? But, be this as it may, it is certain human spirits swiftly increase in knowledge, In holiness and in happiness, conversing with all the wise and holy souls that lived in all ages and nations from the beginning of the world, with angels and archangels, to whom the children of men are no more than infants, and, above all, with the eternal Son of God, in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.
And let it be especially considered, whatever they learn they will retain for ever. For they forget nothing. To forget is only incident to spirits that are clothed with flesh and blood. But how will this material universe appear to a disembodied spirit? Who can tell whether any of these objects that surround us will appear the same as they do now? And if we know so little of these, what can we now know concerning objects of a quite different nature, concerning the spiritual world? It seems it will not be possible for us to discern them at all, till we are furnished with senses of a different nature, which are not yet opened in our souls. These may enable us both to penetrate the inmost substance of things whereof we now discern only the surface, and to discern innumerable things of the very existence whereof we have not now the least perception.
What astonishing scenes will then discover themselves to our newly opened senses? Probably fields of ether, not only tenfold, but ten-thousandfold the length of this terrine. And with what variety of furniture, animate and inanimate? How many orders of beings, not discovered by organs of flesh and blood? Perhaps thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers, whether of those that retain their first habitation and primeval strength, or those that, rebelling against their Creator, have been cast out of heaven? And shall we not then, as far as angels can, survey the bounds of creation, and see every place where the Almighty stopped his rapid wheels and said, This be thy just circumference, O world!
Yea, shall we not be able to move quickest thought through the wide realm of uncharted night? Above all, the moment we step into eternity, shall we not feel ourselves swallowed up of him who is in this and every place, Who filleth heaven and earth? It is only the veil of flesh and blood which now hinders us from perceiving that the great Creator cannot but fill the whole immensity of space. He is every moment above us, beneath us, and on every side. Indeed, in this dark abode, this land of shadows, this region of sin and death, the thick cloud which is interposed between conceals him from our sight. But the veil will disappear, and he will appear in unclouded majesty, God over all, blessed forever.
How variously are the children of men employed in this world, in treading over the paths they trod six thousand years before? But who knows how we shall be employed after we enter that visible world? A little of it we may conceive, and that without any doubt, provided we keep to what God Himself has revealed in His Word, and what He works in the hearts of His children. Let us consider, first, what may be the employment of unholy spirits from death to the resurrection? We cannot doubt, but the moment they leave the body, they find themselves surrounded by spirits of their own kind, probably human as well as diabolical. What power God may permit these to exercise over them, we do not distinctly know.
But it is not improbable. He may suffer Satan to employ them, as he does his own angels, in inflicting death or evils of various kinds on the men that know not God. For this end, they may raise storms by sea or by land. They may shoot meteors through the air. They may occasion earthquakes, and in numberless ways afflict those whom they are not suffered to destroy. Where they are not permitted to take away life, they may inflict various diseases. And many of these, which we judge to be natural, are undoubtedly diabolical. I believe this is frequently the case with lunatics. It is observable that many of those mentioned in Scripture who are called lunatics by one of the evangelists are termed demonics by another.
One of the most eminent physicians I ever knew, particularly in cases of insanity, the late Dr. Thomas Deacon, was clearly of opinion that this was the case with many, if not most, lunatics. And it is no valid objection to this, that these diseases are so often cured by natural means, for a wound inflicted by an evil spirit may be cured as any other, unless that spirit was permitted to repeat the blow. May not some of these evil spirits be likewise employed, in conjunction with evil angels, in tempting wicked men to sin, and in procuring occasions for them? Yea, and in tempting good men to sin, even after they have escaped the corruption in this world? Herein, doubtless, they put forth all their strength, and great glory if they conquer.
A passage in an ancient author may greatly illustrate this, although, I apprehend, he did not intend that we should take it literally.
Satan summoned his powers, and examined what mischief each of them had done. One said, I have set a house on fire, and destroyed all its inhabitants. Another said, I have raised a storm at sea, and sunk a ship, and all on board perished in the waters. Satan answered, Perhaps those that were burnt or drowned were saved. A third said, I have been forty years tempting a holy man to commit adultery, and I have left him asleep in his sin. Hearing this, Satan rose to do him honor. And all hell resounded with his praise.
Hear this, all ye that imagine you cannot fall from grace. Ought we not then to be perpetually on our guard against those subtle enemies, though we see them not? A constant watch they keep, they eye us night and day, and never slumber, never sleep, lest they should lose their prey. Herein they join with the rulers of darkness, The intellectual darkness of this world, the ignorance, wickedness, and misery diffused through it, to hinder all good and promote all evil. To this end, they are continually working with energy in the children of disobedience. Yea, sometimes they work by those lying wonders that might almost deceive even the children of God. But meantime, how may we conceive the inhabitants of the other part of Hades, the souls of the righteous to be employed.
It has been positively affirmed by some philosophical men that spirits have no place, but they do not observe that if it were so, they must be omnipresent, an attribute which cannot be allowed to any but the Almighty Spirit. The abode of these blessed spirits the ancient Jews were used to term Paradise, the same name which our Lord gave it, telling the penitent thief, This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise. Yet in what part of the universe this is situated, who can tell, or even conjecture, since it has not pleased God to reveal anything concerning it? But we have no reason to think they are confined in this place, or indeed to any other. May we not rather say that servants of His, as well as the holy angels, they do His pleasure, whether among the inhabitants of earth, Or in any other part of His dominions?
And, as we easily believe that they are swifter than light, even as swift as thought, they are well able to traverse the whole universe in the twinkling of an eye, either to execute the divine commands, or to contemplate the works of God. What a field is here open before them! And how immensely may they increase in knowledge, while they survey His works of creation, or providence, or his manifold wisdom in the church. What depth of wisdom, of power, and of goodness do they discover in his methods of bringing many sons to glory? Especially while they converse on any of these subjects with the illustrious dead of ancient days, with Adam, first of men, with Noah, who saw both the primeval and the ruined world, with Abraham, the friend of God, with Moses, Who was favored to speak with God, as it were, face to face, with Job, perfected by sufferings, with Samuel, David, Solomon, Isaiah, Daniel, and all the prophets, with the apostles, the noble army of martyrs, and all the saints who have lived and died to the present day, with our elder brethren, the holy angels, cherubim, seraphim, and all the companies of heaven, Above all the name of creature owns, with Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant.
Meantime, how will they advance in holiness, in the whole image of God, wherein they were created, in the love of God and man, gratitude to their Creator, and benevolence to all their fellow-creatures? Yet it does not follow, what some earnestly maintain, that this general benevolence will at all interfere with that particular affection which God Himself implants for our relations, friends, and benefactors. Oh, no! Hadn't you stood by His bedside, when that dying saint was crying out, I have a father and a mother gone to heaven, to Paradise, the receptacle of happy spirits. I have ten brothers and sisters gone to heaven, and now I am going to them that am the eleventh. Blessed be God that I was born.
Would you have replied? What? If you are going to them, they will be no more to you than any other persons, for you will not know them. Not know them? Nay, does not all that is in you recoil at the thought? Indeed, skeptics may ask, how do disembodied spirits know each other? I answer plainly, I cannot tell, but I am certain they do. This is as plainly proved from one passage of Scripture as it could be from a thousand. Did not Abraham and Lazarus Know each other in Hades, even afar off, even though they were fixed on different sides of the great gulf? Can we doubt, then, whether the souls that are together in Paradise shall know one another? The Scripture, therefore, clearly decides this question, and so does the very reason of the thing, for we know, every holy tempter which we carry with us into Paradise will remain in us for ever.
But such is gratitude to our benefactors. This, therefore, will remain forever. And this implies that the knowledge of our benefactors will remain, without which it cannot exist. And how much will that add to the happiness of those spirits which are already discharged from the body, that they are permitted to minister to those whom they have left behind? An indisputable proof of this we have in the twenty-second chapter of Revelation. When the apostle fell down to worship the glorious spirit which he seems to have mistaken for Christ, he told him plainly, I am of thy fellow servants, the prophets, not God, not an angel, not a human spirit. And in how many ways may they minister to the heirs of salvation?
Sometimes by counteracting wicked spirits whom we cannot resist, because we cannot see them. Sometimes by preventing our being hurt by men, or beasts, or inanimate creatures. How often may it please God to answer the prayer of good Bishop Ken. O may thine angels, while I sleep, around my bed their vigils keep, their love angelic instill, stop all the avenues consequence of ill. May their celestial joys rehearse, and thought to thought with me converse. Or, in my stead the whole night long, sing to my God a grateful song. And may not the Father of spirits allot this office jointly to angels and human spirits waiting to be made perfect? It may indeed be objected that God has no need of any subordinate agents of either angelic or human spirits to guard His children in their waking or sleeping hours, seeing He that keepeth Israel does neither slumber nor sleep, And certainly he is able to preserve them by his own immediate power, yea, and he is able, by his own immediate power, without any instruments at all, to supply the wants of all his creatures, both in heaven and earth.
But it is, and ever was, his pleasure, not to work by his own immediate power only, but chiefly by subordinate means, from the beginning of the world. And how wonderfully is his wisdom displayed in adjusting all these to each other, so that we may cry out, O Lord, how manifold are thy works, and wisdom hast thou made them all. This we know concerning the whole frame and arrangement of the visible world. But how exceeding little do we now know concerning the invisible? And we should have known still less of it Had it not pleased the author of both worlds to give us more than natural light, to give us, his word, to be a lantern to our feet, and a light in all our paths. And holy men of old, being assisted by his spirit, have discovered many particulars of which otherwise we should have had no conception.
And, without revelation, how little certainty of invisible things did the wisest of men obtain! The small glimmerings of light which they had were merely conjectural. At best, they were only a faint, a dim twilight delivered from uncertain tradition, and so obscured by heathen fables, that it was but one degree better than utter darkness. How uncertain the best of these conjectures was may easily be gathered from their own accounts. The most finished of all these accounts is that of the great Roman poet. Where observe how wearily he begins with that apologetic preface, Sit mihi fas a dita loqui. May I be allowed to tell what I have heard? And in the conclusion, lest anyone should imagine he believed any of these accounts, he sends the relator of them out of Hades by the ivory gate through which he had just informed us that only dreams and shadows pass.
A very plain intimation, That all which has gone before is to be looked upon as a dream. How little regard they had for all these conjectures with regard to the invisible world clearly appears from the words of his brother-poet, who affirms without any scruple, Essai alicuos menes et subterranea regna, nec pueric credunt, that there are ghosts or realms below not even a man, boy, of them now believes. So little could even the most improved reason discover concerning the invisible and internal world. The greater cause we have to praise the Father of lights, who hath opened the eyes of our understanding, to discern those things which could not be seen by eyes of flesh and blood, that he who of old times shined out of the darkness hath shined in our hearts, and enlightened us with the light of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, The author and finisher of our faith, by whom he made the worlds, by whom he now sustains whatever he hath made, for, till nature shall her judge survey, the King Messiah reigns.
These things we have believed upon the testimony of God, the Creator of all things, visible and invisible. By this testimony we already know the things that now exist, though not yet seen, as well as those that will exist in their season. Until this visible world pass away, and the Son of Man shall come in His glory. Upon the whole, what thanks ought we to render to God, who has vouchsafed this evidence of things outseeing? To the poor inhabitants of earth, who otherwise must have remained in utter darkness concerning them. How invaluable a gift is even this imperfect light! To the benighted sons of men! What a relief is it to the defects of our senses, and consequently of our understanding, which can give us no information of anything but what is first presented by the senses?
But hereby a new set of senses, so to speak, is opened in our souls, and by this means the things unknown to feeble sense, unseen by reason's glimmering ray, with strong commanding evidence, their heavenly origin display. Faith lends its realizing light, the clouds disperse, the shadows fly, the invisible appears in sight, and God is seen by mortal eye. London, January 17th, 1791. Probably Wesley's last sermon.
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15 15 - The Deceitfulness of the Human Heart 21:02
The Deceitfulness of the Human Heart The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it? Jeremiah, 17, 9. The most eminent of the ancient heathens have left us many testimonies of this. It was indeed their common opinion that there was a time when men in general were virtuous and happy. This they termed the Golden Age. And the account of this was spread through almost all nations, But it was likewise generally believed that this happy age had expired long ago, and that men are now in the midst of the Iron Age. At the commencement of this, says the poet, In aegum, omni nefas. Fugere pudor, verumce, fidesce, inciorum subiere locum, fraudesce, dolicie, insidaece, et vis et amor scleratus habendi, immediately broke in, with a full tide all wickedness and sin.
Shame, truth, fidelity, swift fled away, and cursed thirst of gold bore unresisted sway. But how much more knowing than these old pagans are the present generation of Christians? How many labored panegyrics do we now read and hear on the dignity of human nature? One eminent preacher, in one of his sermons preached and printed a few years ago, does not scruple to affirm, first, that men in general, if not every individual, are very wise, secondly, that men in general are very virtuous, and thirdly, that they are very happy. And I do not know that anyone yet has been so hardy as to controvert the assertion. Nearly related to them were the sentiments of an ingenious gentleman who, being asked My lord, what do you think of the Bible?
answered, I think it is the finest book I ever read in my life. Only that part of it which indicates the mediatorial scheme I do not understand, for I do not conceive that there is any need of a mediator between God and man. If indeed, continued he, I was a sinner, then I should need a mediator, but I do not conceive I am. It is true I often act wrong for want of more understanding. And I frequently feel wrong tempers, particularly proneness to anger. But I cannot allow this to be a sin, for it depends on the motion of my blood and spirits, which I cannot help. Therefore it cannot be a sin, or if it be, the blame must fall not on me, but on him that made me. The very sentiments of pious Lord Cames and modest Mr.
Hume. Some years ago, a charitable woman discovered that there was no sinner in the world but the devil. For, said she, He forces men to act as they do, therefore they are unaccountable, to blame lights on Satan. But these more enlightened gentlemen have discovered that there is no sinner in the world but God, for he forces men to think, speak, and act as they do, therefore to blame lights on God alone. Satan avaunt, it may be doubted whether he himself ever uttered so fond of blasphemy as this, but whatever unbaptized or baptized infidels may say concerning the innocence of mankind. He that made man, and that best knows what he has made, gives a very different account of him. He informs us that the heart of man, of all mankind, of every man born into the world, is desperately wicked, and that is, deceitful above all things, so that we may well ask, who can know it?
One, to begin with this, the heart of man is desperately wicked. In considering this, we have no need to refer to any particular sins. These are no more than the leaves or at the most the fruits which spring from that evil tree. But rather to the general root of all, see how this was first planted in heaven itself by Lucifer, son of the morning, till then undoubtedly one of the first, if not the first archangel. Thou saidst, I will sit upon the side of the north. See Self-Will, the firstborn of Satan. I will be like the Most High. See Pride, the twin sister of Self-Will. Here was the true origin of evil. Hence came the inexhaustible flood of evils upon the lower world. When Satan at once transfused his own self-will and pride into the parents of mankind, together with the new species of sin, love of the world, the loving the creature above the Creator, all manner of wickedness soon rushed in, all ungodliness and unrighteousness shooting out into crimes of every kind, soon covering the whole face of the earth with all manner of abominations.
It would be an endless task to enumerate all the enormities that broke out. Now the fountains of the great deep were broken up. The earth soon became a field of blood. Revenge, cruelty, ambition, with all sorts of injustice, and every species of public and private wrongs were diffused through every part of the earth. Injustice in ten thousand forms, hatred, envy, malice, bloodthirstiness with every species of falsehood rode triumphant. Till the Creator looking down from heaven would be no more entreated for an incorrigible race, but swept them off from the face of the earth. But how little were the following generations improved by the severe judgment. They that lived after the flood do not appear to have been a whit better than those that lived before it.
In a short time, probably before Noah was removed from the earth, all unrighteousness prevailed as before. But is there not a God in the world? Doubtless there is, and it is He that hath made us, not we ourselves. He made us gratuitously, of His own mere mercy, for we could merit nothing of Him before we had a being. It is of His mercy that He made us at all, that He made us sensible, rational creatures, and above all, creatures capable of God. It is this and this alone which puts the essential difference between men and brutes. But if He has made us and given us all we have, If we owe all we are and have to Him, then surely He has a right to all we are and have, to all our love and obedience.
This has been acknowledged by almost all who believe themselves to be His creatures, in all ages and nations. But a few years ago, a learned man frankly confessed, I could never apprehend that God's having created us gave Him any title to the government of us, or that His having created us laid us under any obligation to yield Him our obedience. I believe that Dr. Hutchison was the first man that ever made any doubt of this, or that ever doubted, much less denied, that a creature was obliged to obey his Creator. If Satan ever entertained this thought, but it is not probable he ever did, it would be no wonder he should rebel against God and raise war in heaven. And hence would enmity against God arise in the hearts of men also, together with all the branches of ungodliness which abound therein at this day.
Hence would naturally arise the neglect of every duty which we owe to him as our Creator, and all the passions and hopes which are directly opposite to every such duty. From the devil, the spirit of independence, self-will, and pride, productive of all ungodliness and unrighteousness, quickly infused themselves into the hearts of our first parents in Paradise. After they had eaten of the tree of knowledge, wickedness and misery of every kind rushed in with a full tide upon the earth. Alienated us from God and made way for all the rest. Atheism, now favorably termed dissipation, and idolatry, love of the world, seeking happiness in this or that creature, covered the whole earth. Upright both in heart and will, we by our God were made.
But we turned from good to ill, and over the creatures straight. Multiplied our wandering thought. which was first fixed on God alone. In ten thousand objects sought, the bliss we lost in one. It would be endless to enumerate all the species of wickedness, whether in thought, word, or action that now overspread the earth, in every nation and city and family. They all center in this atheism or idolatry, pride either thinking of themselves more highly than they ought to think, Or glorifying in something which they have received, as though they had not received it. Independence and self-will, doing their own will, not the will of him that made them. Add to this, seeking happiness out of God, gratifying the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, and the pride of life.
Hence it is the melancholic truth that, unless when the Spirit of God has made a difference, all mankind now, as well as four thousand years ago, have corrupted their ways before the Lord, and every imagination of the thought of man's heart is evil, only evil, and that continually. However therefore men may differ in their outward ways, in which undoubtedly there are a thousand differences, yet in the inward root, the enmity against God, atheism, pride, self-will, and idolatry, It is true of all that the heart of man, of every natural man, is desperately wicked. But if this be the case, how is it that everyone is not conscious of it? For who should know the things of a man like the spirit of a man that is in him?
Why is it that so few know themselves? For this plain reason, because the heart is not only desperately wicked, but deceitful above all things, so deceitful that we may well ask, Who can know it? Who, indeed, save God, hath made it? By His assistance we may, in the second place, consider this, the deceitfulness of man's heart.
Two. It is deceitful above all things, that is, in the highest degree, above all that we can conceive, so deceitful that the generality of men are continually deceiving both themselves and others. How strangely do they deceive themselves not knowing either their own tempers or characters, imagining themselves to be abundantly better and wiser than they are. The ancient poet supposes there is no exception to this rule, that no man is willing to know his own heart.
And if men thus deceive themselves, is it any wonder that they deceive others also, and that we so seldom find an Israelite indeed in whom there's no guile? In looking over my book some years ago, I found the following memorandum. I am this day thirty years old, and till this day I know not that I have met with one person of that age except in my father's house who did not use guile, more or less. This is one of the sorts of desperate wickedness which cleaves to the nature of every man, proceeding from those fruitful roots, self-will, pride, and independence on God. Hence brings every species of vice and wickedness, hence every sin against God, our neighbor, and ourselves. Against God, forgetfulness and contempt of God, of His name, His day, His word, His ordinances, atheism on one hand, and idolatry on the other.
In particular, the love of the world, the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of life, the love of money, the love of power, the love of ease, the love of the honor that cometh of men, the love of the creature more than the Creator, the being lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God, against our neighbor, in gratitude, revenge, hatred, envy, malice, and charitableness. Hence, there is in the heart of every child of man an inexhaustible fund of ungodliness and unrighteousness, so deeply and strongly rooted in the soul that nothing less than almighty grace can cure it. From hence naturally arises a plentiful harvest of all evil words and works. And to complete the whole, that complex of all evils, that foul monster war that we meet, lays deep the noblest work of creation.
Which wears in vain its maker's glorious image, unprivileged from thee. In the train of this fell monster are murder, adultery, rape, violence, and cruelty of every kind. And all these abominations are not only found in Mahometan or pagan countries, where their horrid practice may seem to be the natural result of equally horrid principles, but in those that are called Christian countries, yea, in the most knowing and civilized states and kingdoms. And let it not be said this is only the case in Roman Catholic countries. Nay, we that are called Reformed are not one whit behind them in all manner of wickedness. Indeed, no crime ever prevailed among the Turks or Tartars, which we here cannot parallel in every part of Christendom.
Nay, no sin ever appeared in heathen or Papal Rome, which is not found at this day in Germany, France, Holland, England, and every other Protestant as well as Popish country. So that it may now be said with as much truth and as few exceptions of every court in Europe as it was formerly in the court of Saul. There is none righteous, no, not one. They are altogether become abominable. There is none that understand it and seek it after God. But is there no exception as to the wickedness of man's heart? Yes, in those that are born of God. He that is born of God keepeth himself, and the wicked one toucheth him not. God has purified his heart by faith, so that his wickedness is departed from him. Old things are passed away, and all things in him are become new, so that his heart is no longer desperately wicked, but renewed in righteousness and true holiness.
Only let it be remembered that the heart, even of a believer, is not wholly purified when he is justified. Sin is then overcome, but it is not rooted out. It is conquered, but not destroyed. Experience shows him, first, that the roots of sin still remain in his heart. But as long as he continues to watch and pray, none of them can prevail against him. Experience teaches him, secondly, that sin, generally pride, or self-will, cleaves to his best actions so that even with regard to this, he finds an absolute necessity for the blood of atonement. But how artfully does this conceal itself? Not only from others, but even from ourselves. Who can discover it in all the disguises it assumes, or trace it through all its latent mazes?
And if it be so difficult to know the heart of a good man, who can know the heart of a wicked one which is far more deceitful? No unregenerate man, however sensible, ever so experienced, ever so wise in his generation. And yet these are they who pick themselves upon knowing the world, and imagine they see through all men. Vain men, one may boldly say, they know nothing yet, as they ought to know. Even that politician in the late reign neither knew the heart of himself or of other men, whose favorite saying was, "'Do not tell me of your virtue or religion. I tell you every man has his price.' Yes, Sir Robert, every man like you, every one that sells himself to the devil. Did that right, Honorable Reg, compared to whom Sir Robert was a saint know the heart of man?"
He that so earnestly advised his own son never to speak the truth, to lie or disassemble as often as he speaks, to wear a mask continually, that earnestly counseled him not to debauch single women because some inconveniences might follow, but always married women. Would one imagine this groveling animal ever had a wife or a married daughter of his own? O rare Lord Chesterfield! Did ever man so well deserve, though he was a peer of the realm, to die by the side of Newgate? Or did ever books so well deserve to be burned by the common hangman as his letters? Did Mr. David Hume lower if possible than either of the former know the heart of man? No more than a worm or a beetle does. After playing so idly with the darts of death, do you now find it a laughing matter?
What think you now of Charon? Has he fared you over sticks? At length he has taught you to know a little of your own heart. At length you know it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. One of the ablest champions of infidelity, perhaps the most elegant and the most decent writer that ever produced a system of religion, without being in the least obliged to the Bible for it, breaks out in the fullness of his heart. Who would not wish that there was foolproof of the Christian revelation, since it is undoubtedly the most benevolent system that ever appeared in the world? Might he not add a reason of another kind? Because without this, man must be altogether a mystery to himself.
Even with the help of revelation, he knows exceeding little, but without it he would know abundantly less, and nothing with any certainty. Without the light which is given us by the oracles of God, how could we reconcile His greatness with His meanness? While we acknowledge with Sir John Davis, I know my soul has power to know all things. Yet is she blind and ignorant of all. I know I'm one of nature's little kings. Yet do the least and vilest things enshrall. Who then knoweth the hearts of all men? Surely none but he that made them. Who knoweth his own heart? Who can tell the depth of its enmity against God? Who knoweth how deeply it is sunk into the nature of Satan? 3. From the preceding considerations may we not learn.
First, he that trusteth in his own heart is a fool. For who that is wise would trust one whom he knows to be desperately wicked, especially whom he hath known by a thousand experiments, to be deceitful above all things? What can we expect if we still trust a known liar and deceiver, but to be deceived and cheated to the end? We may hence in the second place infer the truth of that other reflection of Solomon. Seest thou a man that is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope of a fool than of him. For at what distance from wisdom must a man be who never suspected his want of it? And will not his thinking so well of himself prevent his receiving instruction from others? Will he not be apt to be displeased at admonition, and to construe reproof into reproach?
Will he not therefore be less ready to receive instruction than even one that has little natural understanding? Surely no fool is so incapable of amendment as one that imagines himself to be wise. He that supposes himself not to need a physician will hardly profit by his advice. May we not learn hence thirdly the wisdom of that caution. Let him who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall. Or to render the text more properly, let him that assuredly standeth take heed lest he fall. How firmly soever he may stand, he has still a deceitful heart. In how many instances has he been deceived already, and so he may again? Suppose he be not deceived now. Does it follow that he never will? Does he not stand upon slippery ground?
Is he not surrounded with snares into which he may fall and rise no more? Is it not wisdom for him that is now standing, continually to cry to God? Search me, O Lord, and prove me. Try out my reins in my heart. Look well if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way of everlasting. Thou alone, O God, knowest the hearts of all the children of men. O, show thou me what spirit I am of, and let me not deceive my own soul. Let me not think of myself more highly than I ought to think, but let me always think soberly, according as thou hast given me the measure of faith. Halifax, April 21, 1790.
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16 16 - The Heavenly Treasure in Earthen Vessels 12:51
The heavenly treasure in earthen vessels. We have this treasure in earthen vessels. 2 Corinthians 4.7 How long was man a marital to himself? For how many ages were the wisest of men utterly unable to reveal the mystery, to reconcile the strange inconsistencies in him, the wonderful mixture of good and evil, of greatness and littleness, of nobleness and baseness? The more deeply they considered these things, the more they were entangled. The more pains they took in order to clear up the subject, the more they were bewildered in vain and certain conjectures. But what all the wisdom of man was unable to do was in due time done by the wisdom of God. When it pleased God to give an account of the origin of things, and of man in particular, all the darkness vanished away and the clear light shone.
God said, Let us make man in our own image. It was done. In the image of God man was made. Hence we are enabled to give a clear satisfactory account of the greatness, the excellency, the dignity of man. But man being in honor did not continue therein, but rebelled against his sovereign Lord. Hereby he totally lost not only the favor, but likewise the image of God. And in Adam all died, for fallen Adam begat a son in his own likeness. And hence we are taught to give a clear intelligible account of the littleness and baseness of man. He is sunk even below the beasts that perish. Human nature is now not only sensual but devilish. There is in every man born into the world, what is not in any part of the brute creation, no beast is fallen so low, a carnal mind, which is enmity, direct enmity against God.
By considering, therefore, these things in one view, the creation and the fall of man, all the inconsistencies of his nature are easily and fully understood. The greatness and littleness, the dignity and baseness, the happiness and misery of his present state are no longer a mystery, but clear consequences of his original state and his rebellion against God. This is the key that opens the whole mystery, that removes all the difficulty, by showing what God made man at first. In order to have a clear conception of this, we may inquire, first, what is the treasure which we now have? And in the second place, consider how we have this treasure in earth and vessels. One. And first let us inquire. What is this treasure which Christian believers have?
I say believers, for it is of these directly that the apostle is here speaking. Part of this they have in common with other men, in the remains of the image of God. May we not include herein, first, an immaterial principle, a spiritual nature, endued with understanding and affections in a degree of liberty, of a self-moving, yea, self-governing power. Otherwise we were mere machines, stocks and stones. And secondly, all that is vulgarly called natural conscience, implying some discernment of the difference between moral good and evil, with an approbation of one and disapprobation of the other by an inward monitor excusing or accusing. Certainly, whether this is natural or super-added by the grace of God, it is found at least in some small degree in every child of man.
Something of this is found in every human heart, passing sentence concerning good and evil. Not only in all Christians, but in all Mahometans, all pagans, yea, the vilest of savages. May we not believe that all Christians, though but nominally such, have sometimes at least some desire to please God, as well as some light concerning what does really please Him, and some convictions when they are sensible of displeasing Him. Such treasure have all the children of men, more or less, even when they do not yet know God. But it is not these of whom the apostle is here speaking, neither is this the treasure which is the subject of his discourse. The persons concerning whom he is here speaking are those that are born of God, those that, being justified by faith, have now redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins.
Those who enjoy that peace of God which passeth all understanding, whose soul do it magnify the Lord, and rejoice in him with joy unspeakable, and who feel the love of God shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto them. This, then, is the treasure which they have received, a faith of the operation of God, a peace which sets them above the fear of death, and enables them in everything to be content, a hope full of immortality, whereby they already taste the powers of the world to come. The love of God shed abroad in their hearts, with love to every child of man, and a renewal in the whole image of God. in all righteousness and true holiness. This is properly and directly the treasure concerning which the apostle is here speaking.
Two. But this, invaluable as it is, we have in earthen vessels, the word is exquisitely proper, denoting both the brittleness of the vessels and the meanness of the matter they are made of. It directly means what we term earthenware, china, porcelain, and the like. How weak, how easily broken in pieces! Just such is the case with the holy Christian. We have the heavenly treasure in earthly, mortal, corruptible bodies. Thus thou art said the righteous judge to his rebellious creature, till then incorruptible and immortal, and to dust thou shalt return. How finally, but with the mixture of light and darkness, does the heathen poet touch upon this change? Post ignem et hereia domo sub duxerat. After man had stolen fire from heaven, what an emblem of forbidden knowledge!
Machias et noa febrium. That unknown army of consumptions, fevers, sickness, pain of every kind, fixed their camp upon earth, which till then they could no more have entered than they could scale heaven. And all tended to introduce and pave the way for the last enemy, death. From the moment that awful sentence was pronounced, the body received the sentence of death in itself. If not, from the moment our first parents completed their rebellion by eating of the forbidden fruit, may we not probably conjecture that there was some quality naturally in this, which sowed the seeds of death in the human body, till then incorruptible and immortal. Be this as it may, it is certain that from this time the corruptible body has pressed down the soul.
And no marvel, seeing the soul during its vital union with the body, cannot exert any of its operations any otherwise in union with the body, with its bodily organs. But all these are more debased and depraved by the fall of man than we can possibly conceive, and the brain on which the soul more directly depends, not less than the rest of the body. Consequently, if these instruments by which the soul works are disordered, The soul itself must be hindered in its operations. Let a musician be ever so skilful, he will make but poor music if his instrument be out of tune. From a disordered brain, such as is, more or less, that of every child of man, there will necessarily arise confusedness of apprehension, showing itself in a thousand instances.
False judgment, the natural result thereof, and wrong inferences. And from these, innumerable mistakes will follow, in spite of all the caution we can use. But mistakes in judgment will frequently give occasion to mistakes in practice. They will naturally cause our speaking wrong in some instances, and acting wrong in others. Nay, they may occasion not only wrong words or actions, but wrong tempers also. If I judge a man to be better than he really is, in consequence, I really love him more than he deserves. If I judge another to be worse than he really is, I shall in consequence love him less than he deserves. Now both these are wrong tempers, yet possibly it may not be in my power to avoid either the one or the other.
Such are the unavoidable consequences of having these treasures in earthen vessels. Not only death and its forerunner's sickness, weakness and pain, and a thousand infirmities, but likewise error in ten thousand shapes will always be ready to attack us. Such is the present condition of humanity, such is the state of the wisest men. Lord, what is man that thou art still mindful of him, or the son of man that thou regardest him? Something of this great truth, that the corruptible body purses down the soul, is strongly expressed in those celebrated lines of the ancient poet. Speaking of the souls of men, he says, Igneus es olis vigo et coelestis origo, Semnibus, quantum non noxia corpora tartan, trinecchia hebetant artus, moribundacchia membra.
These seeds of heavenly fire, with strength innate, would to their source aspire, but that their earthly limbs obstruct their flight, and check their soaring to the planes of light. But suppose it pleased the all-wise Creator for the sin of man, to suffer the souls of men in general to be weighed down in this miserable manner by their corruptible body. Why does he permit the excellent treasure which he has entrusted to his own children to be still lodged in these poor earthen vessels? Would not this question naturally occur to any reflecting mind? Perhaps it would, and therefore the apostle immediately furnishes us with the full answer. God has done this that the excellency of the power might be of God and not of us.
that it might be undeniably plain to whom that excellent power belonged, that no flesh might glory in his sight, but that all who have received this treasure might continually cry, Not unto us, but unto thee, O Lord. Be the praise, for thy name, and for thy truth's sake. Undoubtedly, this was the main design of God in this wonderful dispensation, to humble man, to make and keep him little and poor and base and vile in his own eyes. And whatever we suffer hereby, we are well repaid, if it be a means of hiding pride from man, of laying us low in the dust, even then, when we are most in danger of being lifted up by the excellent gifts of God. Nay, if we suffer hereby from the mean habitation of the immortal spirit, if pain, sickness, and numberless other afflictions beside, to which we should not otherwise have been liable, assault us on every side, and at length bear us down into the dust of death.
What, are we losers by this? Losers? No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. Come on then, disease, weakness, pain, afflictions in the language of men, shall we not be infinite gainers by them? Gainers for ever and ever, seeing these slight afflictions which are but for a moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. And are we not, by the consciousness of our present weakness, effectually taught wherein our strength lies? How loud does it proclaim, Trust in the Lord Jehovah, for in Him is everlasting strength. Trust in Him who suffered a thousand times more than ever you can suffer. Had He not all power in heaven and earth? Then, what though the heavenly treasure now we have in a vile house of clay, yet He shall to the utmost save.
And keep it to that day.
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17 17 - On Living Without God 17:53
Price. Sermons on Several Occasions, 3rd through 5th series by John Wesley. On living without God. Without God in the world. Ephesians 2 verse 12. Perhaps these words might be more properly translated, atheists in the world. This seems to be a little stronger expression than, without God in the world, which sounds nearly negative and does not necessarily imply any more than having no fellowship or intercourse with God. On the contrary, the word atheist is commonly understood to mean something positive, and not only disclaiming any intercourse with him, but denying his very being. The case of these unhappy men may be much illustrated by a late incident, the truth of which cannot reasonably be doubted, there having been so large a number of eyewitnesses.
An ancient oak, being cut down and split through the midst, Out of the very heart of the tree crept a large toad, and walked away with all the speed he could. Now how long, may we probably imagine, had this creature continued there? It is not unlikely it might have remained in its nest above a hundred years. It is not improbable it was nearly, if not altogether, coeval with the oak, having been some way or other enclosed therein at the time that it was planted. It is not therefore unreasonable to suppose that it had lived that strange kind of life at least a century. We say, it had lived, but what manner of life? How desirable, how enviable. As Callie says, O life most precious and most dear, O life that epicures would long to share.
Let us spend a few thoughts upon so uncommon a case, and make some improvement of it. This poor animal had organs of sense, yet it had not any sensation. It had eyes, yet no ray of light ever entered its black abode. From the very first instant of its existence there, it was shut up in impenetrable darkness. It was shut up from the sun, moon, and stars, And from the beautiful face of nature, indeed, from the whole visible world, as much as if it had no being. As no air could penetrate its sable recess, it consequently could have no hearing. Whatever organs it was provided with, they could be of no use, seeing no undulating air could find a way through the walls that surrounded it, and there is no reason to believe that it had any sense Analogous to those either of smelling or tasting.
In a creature which did not need any food, these could have been of no possible use. Neither was there any way whereby the objects of smell or taste could make their approach to it. It must be very little, if at all, that it could be acquainted, even with the general sense, that of feeling, as it always continued in one unvaried posture amidst the parts that surrounded it. All of these being immovably fixed could make no new impression upon it, so that it had only one feeling from hour to hour and from day to day during its whole duration. And as this poor animal was destitute of sensation, it must have equally been destitute of reflection, its head, of whatever sort it was, having no materials to work upon, no ideas of sensation of any kind, Could not produce any degree of reflection.
It scarce, therefore, could have any memory or any imagination, nor could it have any locative power while it was so closely bound in on every side. If it had, in itself, some springs of motion, yet it was impossible that power should be exerted, because the narrowness of its cavern could not allow any change of place. How exact a parallel may be drawn between this creature, hardly to be called an animal, and a man that is without God in the world. Such as are a vast majority of even those who are called Christians. I do not mean that they are atheists in the common sense of the word. I do not believe that these are so numerous as many have imagined. Making all the inquiry and observation I could, For upwards of fifty years, I could not find twenty who seriously disbelieved the being of a god.
Nay, I have found only two of these, to the best of my judgment, in the British Islands. Both of these had lived in London and had been of this persuasion many years. But several years before they were called to appear before God, both John S. and John B. were Fully convinced that there is a God. And what is more remarkable, they were first convinced that He is a terrible, and then that He is a merciful God. I mention these two accounts to show not only that there are real, literal atheists in the world, but also that even then, if they will condescend to ask it, they may find grace to help in time of need. But I do not mean such as these when I speak of those who are atheists, or without God in the world, but of such as are only practical atheists, as have not God in all their thoughts, such as have not acquainted themselves with Him, neither have any fellowship with Him, such as have no more intercourse with God or the invisible world than this animal had with the visible.
I will endeavor to draw the parallel between these. And may God apply it to their hearts. Every one of these is in exactly such a situation with regard to the invisible as the toad was in respect to the visible world. That creature had undoubtedly a sort of life, such as it was. It certainly had all the internal and external parts that are essential to animal life, and, without question, it had suitable juices. This was a life indeed, and exactly such a life as that of the atheists, the man without God in the world. What a thick veil is between him and the invisible world, which, with regard to him, is as though it had no being. He has not the least perception of it, not the most distant idea.
He has not the least sight of God, the intellectual son. Nor any the least attraction toward him, or desire to have any knowledge of his ways, although his light has gone forth into all lands, and his sound unto the end of the world, yet he heareth no more thereof than the fabled music of the spheres. He tastes nothing of the goodness of God or the powers of the world to come. He does not feel, as our Church speaks, The working of the Holy Spirit in his heart. In a word, he has no more intercourse with the knowledge of the spiritual world than this poor creature had of the natural, while shut up in its dark enclosure. But the moment the Spirit of the Almighty strikes the heart of him that was till then without God in the world, it breaks the hardness of his heart and creates all things new.
The sun of righteousness appears. And shines upon his soul, showing him the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. He is in a new world. All things round him are become new, such as it never before entered into his heart to conceive. He sees, so far as his newly opened eyes can bear the sight, the opening heavens around him shine with beams of sacred bliss. He sees that he has an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous, and that he has redemption in his blood, the remission of his sins. He sees a new way that is opened into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, and his light shineth more and more unto the perfect day. By the same gracious stroke, he that before had ears, but heard not.
He is now made capable of hearing. He hears the voice that raises the dead, the voice of Him that is the resurrection and the life. He is no longer deaf to His invitations or commands, to His promises or threatenings, but gladly hears every word that proceeds out of His mouth, and governs thereby all His thoughts, words, and actions. At the same time, He receives other spiritual senses capable of discerning spiritual good and evil. He is enabled to taste as well as to see how gracious the Lord is. He enters into the holiest by the blood of Jesus and tastes of the powers of the world to come. He finds Jesus' love far better than wine, yea, sweeter than honey or the honeycomb. He knows what that meaneth.
All thy garments smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia. He feels the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto him, or, as our Church expresses it, feels the workings of the Spirit of God in his heart. Meantime, it may easily be observed that the substance of all these figurative expressions is comprised in the one word, faith. Taken in its widest sense. Being enjoyed, more or less, by everyone that believes in the name of the Son of God, this change from spiritual death to spiritual life is properly the new birth. All the particulars whereof are admirably well expressed by Dr. Watts in one verse. Renew my eyes, open my ears, and form my soul afresh. Give me new passions, joys, and fears, and turn my stone to flesh.
But before this universal change, there may be many partial changes in a natural man, which are frequently mistaken for it, whereby many say, Peace, peace to their souls, when there is no peace. There may not be only a considerable change in the life, so as to refrain from open sin, yea, the easily besetting sin, but also a considerable change of tempers, conviction of sin, strong desires, and good resolutions. And here we have need to take great care, not on the one hand, to despise the day of small things, nor on the other, To mistake any of these partial changes for that entire general change, the new birth, that total change from the image of the earthly Adam into the image of the heavenly, from an earthly, sensual, devilish mind into the mind that was in Christ.
Settle it, therefore, in your hearts, that however you may be changed in many other respects, yet in Christ Jesus, that is, According to the Christian institution, nothing will avail without the whole mind that was in Christ, enabling you to walk as Christ walked. Nothing is more sure than this. If any man be in Christ, a true believer in him, he is a new creature. Old things in him are passed away. All things are become new. From hence, We may clearly perceive the wide difference there is between Christianity and morality. Indeed, nothing can be more sure than that true Christianity cannot exist without both the inward experience and outward practice of justice, mercy, and truth, and this alone is given in morality.
But it is equally certain that all morality, all the justice, mercy, and truth which can possibly exist, Without Christianity, profiteth nothing at all, is of no value in the sight of God to those that are under the Christian dispensation. Let it be observed, I purposely add to those that are under the Christian dispensation, because I have no authority from the Word of God to judge those that are without. Nor do I conceive that any man living Has a right to sentence all the heathen and Mohammedan world to damnation. It is far better to leave them to him that made them, and who is the Father of the spirits of all flesh, who is the God of the heathens, as well as the Christians, and who hateth nothing that he hath made.
But meantime, this is nothing to those who name the name of Christ, all those being under the law, the Christian law, Shall undoubtedly be judged thereby. And, of consequence, unless those be so changed as was the animal above mentioned, unless they have new senses, ideas, passions, tempers, they are no Christians. However just, true, or merciful they may be, they are but atheists still. Perhaps there may be some well-meaning persons who carry this farther still. Who aver that whatever change is wrought in men, whether in their hearts or lives, yet, if they have no clear view of those capital doctrines, the fall of man, justification by faith, and of the atonement made by the death of Christ, and of His righteousness transferred to them, they can have no benefit from His death.
I dare in no wise affirm this. Indeed, I do not believe it. I believe the merciful God regards the lives and tempers of men more than their ideas. I believe He respects the goodness of the heart rather than the clearness of the head, and that if the heart of a man be filled by the grace of God and the power of His Spirit with the humble, gentle, patient love of God and man, God will not cast him into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. Because his ideas are not clear, or because his conceptions are confused. Without holiness I own, no man shall see the Lord, but I dare not add or clear ideas. But to return to the text, let me entreat all of you who are still without God in the world to consider with all your humanity, benevolence, virtue, you are still inclusive, Tenebris et carcere ceco, enclosed in darkness and infernal shade.
My dear friends, you do not see God. You do not see the Son of Righteousness. You have no fellowship with the Father or with His Son, Jesus Christ. You never heard the voice that raises the dead. Ye know not the voice of your Shepherd. Ye have not received the Holy Ghost. Ye have no spiritual senses. You have your old, natural ideas, passions, joys, and fears. You are not new creatures. O cry to God, that He may rend the veil which is still upon your hearts, and which gives you occasion to complain. O dark, dark, dark, I still must say amidst the blaze of Gospel day. O, that you may this day hear his voice, who speaketh as never man spake, saying, Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.
Is it not his voice that crieth aloud, Look unto me, and be thou saved? He saith, Lo, I come. Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Rotherham, July 6, 1790. End of Section 17. Recorded by Alvin Price.
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18 18 - On the Danger of Increasing Riches 20:17
Sermons on Several Locations, 3rd through 5th Series by John Wesley.
On the danger of increasing riches. If riches increase, set not thine heart upon them. Psalm 62, 10. From that express declaration of our Lord. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven. We may easily learn that none can have riches without being greatly endangered by them. But if the danger of barely having them is so great, How much greater is the danger of increasing them? This danger is great even to those who receive what is transmitted to them by their forefathers. But it is abundantly greater to those who acquire them by their skill and industry. Therefore, nothing can be more prudent than this caution. If riches increase, set not thine heart upon them.
It is true, riches and the increase of them are the gift of God. Yet great care is to be taken that what is intended for a blessing do not turn into a curse. To prevent this, it is highly expedient to consider seriously 1. What is meant by riches, and when they may be said to increase. 2. What is implied in setting our hearts upon them, and how we may avoid it. 1. Consider first what is here meant by riches. Indeed, some may imagine that it is hardly possible to mistake the meaning of this common word. Yet in truth, there are thousands in this mistake, and many of them quite innocently. A person of note hearing a sermon preached upon this subject several years since, between surprise and indignation, broke out aloud.
Why does he talk about riches here? There's no rich man at Whitehaven but Sir James L. R. And it is true there was none but he that had 40,000 pounds a year and some millions in ready money. But a man may be rich that has not 100 a year. nor even one thousand pounds in cash. Whosoever has food to eat and raiment to put on with something over is rich. Whoever has the necessaries and conveniences of life for himself and his family, and a little to spare for them that have not, is properly a rich man, unless he is a miser, a lover of money, one that hoards up what he can and ought to give to the poor. For it is so, he is a poor man still, though he has millions in the bank. Yea, he is the poorest of men, for the beggars but a common lot deplore, the rich poor man's emphatically poor.
But here an exception may be made. A person may have more than necessaries and conveniences for his family, and yet not be rich. For he may be in debt, and his debts may amount to more than he is worth. And if this be the case, he is not a rich man, how much money soever he has in his hands. Yea, a man of business may be afraid that this is the real condition of his affairs whether it be or no, and then he cannot be so charitable as he would for fear of being unjust. How many that are engaged in trade are in this very condition, those especially that trade to a very large amount, for their affairs are frequently so entangled that it is not possible to determine with any exactness how much they are worth, or indeed whether they are worth anything or nothing.
Should we not make a fair allowance for them? And beware of forming a hasty judgment concerning the fortunes of others. There may be secrets in the situation of a person which few but God are acquainted with. Some years since I told the gentleman, Sir, I'm afraid you are covetous, he asked me. What's the reason of your fear? I answered. A year ago, when I made the collection for the expense of repairing the foundry, you subscribe five guineas. At the subscription made this year, he subscribed only half a guinea. He made no reply. But after a time asked, Pracer answered me a question. Why do you live upon potatoes? I did so between three and four years. I replied, It was much conduced to my health.
He answered, I believe it has, but did you not do it likewise to save money? I said, I did. For what I save for my own meat will feed another that else would have none. But sir, said he, if this be your motive, you may save much more. I know a man that goes to the market at the beginning of every week. There he buys pennyworths of parsnips, which he boils in a large quantity of water. The parsnips serve him for food and the water for drink the ensuing week. So his meat and drink together cost him only a penny a week. This he constantly did, though he had then two hundred pounds a year to pay the debts which he had contracted before he knew God. And this was he whom I had set down for a covetous man.
But there are those who are conscious before God that they are rich, and doubtless some among you are of the number. You have more of the goods of this world than is needful either for yourself or your family. Let each consider for himself. Do your riches increase? Do not you understand that plain expression? Have you not more money, or more of money's worth, than you had ten or twenty years ago or at this time last year? If you keep any account, you can easily know this. Indeed, you ought to know. Otherwise, you are not a good steward, even in this respect of the mammon of unrighteousness. And every man, whether engaged in trade or not, ought to know whether substance lessens or increases. But many have found out a way never to be rich, though their substance increase ever so much.
It is this. As fast as ever money comes in, They lay it out, either in land or enlarging their business. By this means, each of these, keeping himself bare of money, can still say, I'm not rich. Yea, do he has ten, twenty, a hundred times more substance than he had some years ago. This may be explained by a recent case. A gentleman came to a merchant in London a few years since, and told him, Sir, I beg you will give me a guinea for a worthy family that is in great distress. He replied, Really, Mr. M., I cannot well afford to give you it just now, but if you will call upon me when I am worth ten thousand pounds, upon such an occasion I will give you ten guineas. Mr. M. after some time called upon him again and said, Sir, I claim your promise.
Now you are worth ten thousand pounds. He replied, That is very true, but I assure you I cannot spare one guinea so well as I could then. It is possible for a man to cheat himself by this ingenious device, and he may cheat other men, for as long as thou dost good unto thyself, men will speak well of thee. A right good man, says the Londoner, is worth aplomb, a hundred thousand pounds, but alas, he cannot deceive God, and he cannot deceive the devil. Ah, no, the curse of God is upon thee already, and all that thou hast. And tomorrow, when the devil ceases thy soul, will he not say what to all thy riches profit thee? Will they purchase a pillow for thy head, and the lake of fire burning with brimstone?
Or will they procure thee a cup of water to cold thy tongue, while thou art tormented in that flame? O follow the wise direction here given, that God may not say unto thee, Thou fool. This shift, therefore, will not avail. It will not be any protection either against the wrath of God or the malice and power of the devil. Thou art convicted already of setting thy heart upon thy riches, if thou layest all thou hast above the conveniences of life, on adding money to money, house to house, or field to field without giving at least a tenth of thine income, the Jewish proportion, to the poor. By whatsoever means thy riches increase, whether with or without labor, whether by trade, legacies, or any other way, Unless thy charities increase in the same proportion, unless thou givest a full tenth of thy substance, of thy fixed and occasional income, thou dost undoubtedly set thy heart upon thy gold, and it will eat thy flesh as fire.
But, O, who can convince a rich man that he sets his heart upon riches? For considerably above half a century I have spoken on this head, with all the plainness that was in my power. But with how little effect! I doubt whether I have in all that time convinced fifty misers of covetousness, when the lover of money was described ever so clearly and painted in the strongest colors, who applied it to himself. To whom did God in all that knew him say, Thou art the man. If he speaks to any of you that are present, O do not stop your ears. Rather say with Zacchaeus, Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have done any wrong to any man, I restore fourfold. It did not mean that he had done this in time past, but that he determined to do so for the time to come.
I charge thee before God, thou lover of money, to go and do likewise. I have a message from God unto thee, O rich man, whether thou wilt hear or whether thou wilt forbear. Riches have increased with thee at the peril of thy soul. Set not thine heart upon them. Be thankful to him that gave thee such a talent, so much power of doing good. Yet dare not rejoice over them, but with fear and trembling. Caue ne in high reas, ses pious kempis, ne capiaris et pereas. Beware thou cleave not unto them, lest thou be entangled and perish. Do not make them thy end, thy chief delight, thy happiness, thy God. See that thou expect not happiness in money, nor anything that is purchasable thereby. Ingratifying either the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, or the pride of life.
But let us descend to particulars and see that each of you deal faithfully with his own soul. If any of you have now twice, thrice, or four times as much substance as when you first saw my face, faithfully examine yourselves and see if you do not set your hearts, if not directly on money or riches themselves, yet on some of the things that are purchasable thereby, which comes to the same thing. All those the apostle John includes under that general name, the world, and the desire of them, or to seek happiness in them, under that form, the love of the world. This he divides into three branches, the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of life. Fairly examine yourselves with regard to these.
And first, as to the desire of the flesh, I believe this means the seeking of happiness in the things that gratify the senses. To instance in one, do not you seek your happiness in enlarging the pleasure of tasting? To be more particular, do you not eat more plentifully or more delicately than you did ten or twenty years ago? Do you not use more drink or drink of a more costly kind than you did then? Do you sleep on as hard a bed as you did once, suppose your health will bear it? To touch on one point more, do you fast as often now you are rich as you did when you was poor? Ought you not in all reason to do this rather more often than more seldom? I am afraid your own heart condemns you. You are not clear in this matter.
The second branch of the love of the world, the desire of the eyes, is of a wider extent. We may understand thereby the seeking our happiness in gratifying the imagination, which is chiefly done by means of the eyes, by grand or new or beautiful objects, if they may not all be reduced to one head. Since neither grand nor beautiful objects are pleasing when the novelty of them is gone. But are not the various trifles pleasing as long as they are new? Do not some of you in this core of novelty seek no small part of your happiness in that trifle of trifles dress. Do not you bestow more money or, which is the same, more time or pains upon it than you did once? I doubt this is not done to please God.
Then it pleases the devil. If you laid aside your needless ornaments some years since, ruffles, necklaces, spider caps, ugly unbecoming bonnets, costly linen, expensive laces, have you not, in the fines of religion and reason, taken to them again? Perhaps you say now you can afford the expense. This is the quintessence of nonsense. Who gave you this addition to your fortune? Or, to speak properly, lent it to you. To speak more properly still. Who lodged it for a time in your hands as his stewards, informing you at the same time for what purposes he entrusted you with it? And can you afford to waste your Lord's goods for every part of which you are to give an account, or to expend them in any other way than that which he had expressly appointed?
Away with this vile diabolical cant! Let it never come out of your lips! This affording to rob God is the very cant of hell. Do not you know that God entrusted you with that money? All above what buys necessaries for your families, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to help the stranger, the widow, the fatherless, and indeed as far as it will go to relieve the wants of all mankind? How can you, how dare you defraud your Lord by applying it to any other purpose? When He entrusted you with that little, did He not entrust you with it that you might lay out all that little in doing good? And when he entrusted you with more, did he not entrust you with that additional money that you might do so much more good, as you had more ability?
Had you any more right to waste a pound, a shilling, or a penny than you had before? You have therefore no more right to gratify the desire of the flesh or the desire of the eyes now than when you was a beggar. Oh no, do not make so poor a return to your beneficent lord. Rather, the more he entrusts you with, Be so much the more careful to employ every mite as he hath appointed. Ye angels of God, ye servants of His, that continually do His pleasure, our common Lord hath entrusted you also with talents far more precious than gold and silver, that you may minister in your various offices to the heirs of salvation. Do not you employ every mite of what you have received to that end for which it was given to you?
And hath He not directed us to do His will on earth as it is done by you in heaven? Brethren, what are we doing? Let us awake, let us arise, let us imitate those flaming ministers. Let us employ our whole soul, body, and substance according to the will of our Lord. Let us render unto God the things that are God's, even all we are and all we have. Most of those who when riches increase set their hearts upon them do it indirectly in some of the preceding instances. But there are others who do this more directly, being properly lovers of money. who love it for its own sake, not only for the sake of what it procures. But this vice is very rarely found in children or young persons, but only or chiefly in the old, in those that have the least need of money and the least time to enjoy it.
Might not this induce one to think that in many cases it is a penal evil, that is, a sin-punishing evil, that when a man has for many years hid his precious talent in the earth, God delivers him up to Satan. To punish by the inordinate love of it. Then it is that he is more and more tormented by that aori sakara famis, that execrable hunger after gold which can never be satisfied. No, it is most true, as the very hidden observes, kereskit amor numi, kuantum ipsa pecunia kereskit. As money, so the love of money grows, it increases in the same proportion. As in a dropsy, the more you drink, the more you thirst. Till that unquenchable thirst plunge you into that fire which ever shall be quenched.
But is there no way you may ask either to prevent or cure this dire disease? There is one preventive of it, which is also a remedy for it, and I believe there is no other under heaven. It is this. After you have gained with the cautious above given all you can, and saved all you can, one thing for nothing. Spend not one pound, one shilling, or one penny to gratify either the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, or the pride of life, or indeed for any other end than to please and glorify God. Having avoided this rock on the right hand, beware of that on the left. Secondly, hoard nothing. Lay up no treasure on earth, but give all that you can, that is all you have. I defy all the men upon earth, yea, all the angels in heaven, to find any other way of extracting the poison from riches.
Let me add one word more. After having served you between sixty and seventy years, with dim eyes, shaking hands, and totering feet, I give you one more advice before I sink into the dust. Mark those words of St. Paul. Those that desire or endeavor to be rich, that moment fall into temptation. Yea, a deep gulf of temptation out of which nothing less than almighty power can deliver them. They fall into a snare, the word properly means a steel trap which instantly crushes the animal taken therein to pieces, and into diverse foolish and hurtful desires which plunge men into destruction and perdition. You, above all men who now prosper in the world, never forget these awful words. How unspeakably slippery is your path!
How dangerous every step! The Lord God enabled you to see your danger and make you deeply sensible of it. Oh, may you awake after His likeness and be satisfied with it. Permit me to come a little closer still. Perhaps I may not trouble you any more on this head. I am pained for you that are rich in this world. Do you give all you can? You who receive five hundred pounds a year and spend only two hundred, do you give three hundred back to God? If not, you certainly rob God of that three hundred. You that receive two hundred and spend but one, do you give God the other hundred? If not, you rob him of just so much. Nay, may I not do what I will with my own? Here lies the ground of your mistake. It is not your own.
Cannot be, unless you are the Lord of heaven and earth. However, I must provide for my children. Certainly, but how, by making them rich? Then you will probably make them heathens, as some of you have done already. What shall I do then? Lord, speak to their hearts, else the preacher speaks in vain. Leave them enough to live on, not in idleness and luxury, but by honest industry. And if you have no children, upon what scriptural or rational principle can you leave a growth behind you more than will bury you? I pray consider, what are you the better for what you leave behind you? What does it signify whether you leave behind you ten thousand pounds or ten thousand shoes and boots? O leave nothing behind you!
Send all you have before you into a better world! Lend it! Lend it all unto the Lord, and it shall be paid you again. Is there any danger that this truth should fail? It is fixed as the pillars of heaven! Haste, haste, my brethren, haste! Lest you be called away before you settled what you have on this security. When this is done, you may boldly say, Now I have nothing to do but die. Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Bristol, September 21, 1790.
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19 19 - The Trouble and Rest of Good Men 18:57
The trouble and rest of good men. There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest. Job 3, 17. When God at first surveyed all the works he had made, behold, they were very good. All were perfect in beauty, and man, the Lord of all, was perfect in holiness. And as his holiness was, so was his happiness. Knowing no sin, he knew no pain. But when sin was conceived, it soon brought forth pain. The whole scene was changed in a moment. He now groaned under the weight of a mortal body, and what was far worse, a corrupted soul. That spirit which could have borne all his other infirmities was itself wounded and sick unto death. Thus in the day wherein his sin began to die, and thus in the midst of life we are in death.
Yea, the whole creation groaned together, being in bondage to sin, and therefore to misery. The whole world is, indeed, in its present state, only one great infirmary. All that are therein are sick of sin, and their one business there is to be healed. And for this very end the great physician of souls is continually present with them, marking all the diseases of every soul, and giving medicines to heal its sickness. These medicines are often painful too. Not that God willingly afflicts His creatures, but that He allows them just as much pain as is necessary to their health, and for that reason because it is so. The pain of cure must then be endured by every man, as well as the pain of sickness.
And herein is manifest the infinite wisdom of him who cared for us, that the very sickness of those whom he converses may be a great means of every man's cure. The very wickedness of others is, in a thousand ways, conducive to a good man's holiness. They trouble him, it is true, that even that trouble is health to his soul and marrow to his bones. He suffers many things from them, but it is to this end, that he may be made perfect through those sufferings. But this perfect holiness is not found on earth, so neither is perfect happiness. In this life, adult Christians are saved from all sin and are made perfect in love. See Mr. Wesley's Plain Account of Christian Perfection. End note. Some remains of our disease will ever be felt and some physic be necessary to heal it.
Therefore we must be more or less subject to the pain of the cure as well as the pain of sickness. And accordingly neither do the wicked hear, cease from troubling, nor can the weary be at rest. Who then will deliver us from the body of this death? Death will deliver us. Death shall set those free in a moment who were all their lifetime subject to bondage. Death shall destroy at once the whole body of sin. This doctrine that we are saved from sin by death is nowhere taught in sacred scripture as Mr. Wesley is afterwards perceived and demonstrated in the treatise just mentioned and in several of his sermons. End note. And there with of its companion, pain. And therefore there the wicked cease from troubling.
The Scriptures give us no account of the place where the souls of the just remain from death to the resurrection. But we have an account of their state in these words, in explaining which I shall consider. 1. How the wicked do here trouble good men and 2. How the weary are there at rest. Let us consider first how the wicked here trouble good men. And this is a spacious field. Look around the world. Take a view of all the troubles therein. How few are there whereof, the wicked are not the occasion. From whence come wars and fighting among you? Whence all the ills that embitter society? But often turn that highest of blessing into a curse, and make it good for man to be alone? Come they not hence from self-will, pride, inordinate affection?
In one word, from wickedness? And can it be otherwise as long as it remains upon earth? As well may the Ethiopian change his skin, as a wicked man ceased to trouble both himself and his neighbor, but especially good men, inasmuch as while he is wicked, he is continually injuring either them or himself or God. First, wicked men trouble those who serve God by the injuries they do them. As at first, he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the spirit, even so it is now. And so it must be till all things are fulfilled. Till heaven and earth pass away, all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. For there is an irreconcilable enmity between the Spirit of Christ and the Spirit of the world.
If the followers of Christ were of the world, the world would love its own. But because they are not of the world, therefore the world hated them. And this hatred they will not fail to show by their words. They will say all manner of evil against them falsely. They will find out many inventions whereby even the good that is in them may be evil spoken of. And in a thousand instances lay to their charge the ill that they know not. From words in Jude time they proceed to deeds, treating the servants as their forefathers did their master, wronging and despitefully using them in as many ways as fraud can invent and force accomplish. It is true these troubles sit heaviest upon those who are yet weak in the faith, and the more of the spirit of Christ any man gains, the lighter they do appear to him.
So that to him who is truly renewed therein, who is full of the knowledge and love of God, all the wrongs of wicked men are not only no evils, but a matter of real and solid joy. But still, though he rejoices for his own sake, he cannot but grieve for theirs. He had great heaviness and continual sorrow in his heart for his brethren according to the flesh, who are thus treasuring up to themselves wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. His eyes weep for them in secret places. He is horribly afraid for them. Yea, he could even wish to be accursed himself so that they might inherit a blessing. And thus it is that they who cannot only slight but rejoice in the greatest injury done to them, Yet are troubled at that which wicked men do to themselves, and the grievous misery that attends them.
How much more are they troubled at the injuries wicked men are continually offering to God? This was the circumstance which made the contradiction of sinners so severe a trial to our Lord Himself. He that despiseth me despiseth him that sent me. And how are these despisers now multiplied upon earth, who fear not the Son, neither the Father? How are we surrounded with those who blaspheme the Lord and His anointed, either reviling the whole of His glorious gospel, or making Him a liar as to some of the blessed truths which He had graciously revealed therein? How many of those who profess to believe the whole, yet in effect preach another gospel, so disguising the most essential doctrines thereof by their new interpretations, as to retain the words only but nothing of the faith once delivered to the saints?
How many who have not yet made shipwreck of the fate are strangers to the fruit of it? It hath not purified their hearts, it hath not overcome the world. They are yet in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity. They are still lovers of themselves, lovers of the world, lovers of pleasure, not lovers of God. Lovers of God? No, he is not in all their thoughts. They delight not in him. They do not thirst after him. They do not rejoice in doing his will. Neither make their boast of his praise. O fate, working by love, wither art thou fled? Surely the Son of Man did once plant thee upon earth. When then art thou now? Among the wealthy? No, the deceitfulness of riches there chokes the word, and it becomes unfruitful.
Among the poor? No, the cares of the world are there, and it bringeth forth no fruit to perfection. However, there is nothing to prevent its growth among those who have neither poverty nor riches, yes, the desire of other things. An experience shows by a thousand melancholy examples that the allowed desire of anything, great or small, otherwise than as a means to the one thing needful, will by degrees banish the care of that out of the soul and unfit it for every good word or work. Such is the trouble, not to descend to particulars which are endless, that wicked men continually occasion to the good. Such is the state of all good men while on earth. But it is not so with their souls in paradise.
In the moment wherein they are loosed from the body, they know pain no more. Though they are not yet possessed of the fullness of joy, yet all grief is done away. For there the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest. 2. There the weary are at rest, which was the second thing to be considered, not only from those evils which prudence might have prevented or piety removed even in this life, but from those which were inseparable therefrom which were their unavoidable portion on earth. They are now at rest, whom wicked men would not suffer to rest before. For into the seat of the spirits of just men none but the spirits of the just can enter. They are at length hid from the scourge of the tongue.
Their name is not here cast out as evil. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and the prophets do not revile or separate them from their company. They are no longer despitefully used and persecuted. Neither do they groan under the hand of the oppressor. No injustice, no malice, no fraud is there. They are all Israelites indeed in whom there is no guile. There are no sinners against their own souls, therefore there is no painful pity, no fear for them. There are no blasphemers of God or of His Word, no profaners of His name or of His Sabbaths, no deniers of the Lord that bought Him, none that trample upon the blood of His everlasting covenant. In a word, no earthly or sensual, no devilish spirit, none who do not love the Lord their God with all their heart.
There, therefore, the weary are at rest from all the troubles which the wicked occasioned, and indeed from all other evils which are necessary in this world, either as the consequence of sin or for the cure of it. They are at rest, in the first place, from bodily pain. In order to judge the greatness of this deliverance, let but those who have not felt it take a view of one who lies on a sick or deathbed. Is this he that was made a little lower than the angels? How is the glory departed from him? His eye is dim and heavy, his cheek pale and wan, his tongue falters, his hand trembles, his breast heaves and pants, his whole body is now distorted and right to and fro, now moist and cold and motionless like the earth to which it is going.
And yet all this which you see is but the shadow of what he feels. You see not the pain that tears his heart. That shoots through all his veins and chases the flying soul through every part of her once loved habitation. Could we see this too? How earnestly should we cry out, O sin, what hast thou done? To what hast thou brought the noblest part of the visible creation? Was it for this that the good God made man? O no, neither will he suffer it long. Yet a little while, and all the storms of life shall be over, and thou shalt be gathered into the storehouse of the dead. And there the weary are at rest. They are at rest from all these infirmities and follies which they could not escape in this life.
They are no longer exposed to the delusions of sense or the dreams of imagination. They are not hindered from seeing the noblest truths by inadvertence, nor do they ever lose the sight they have once gained by inattention. They are not entangled with prejudice, nor ever misled by hasty or partial views of the object. And consequently, no error is there. O blessed place where truth alone can enter, truth unmixed, undisguised, enlightening every man who cometh into the world. Where there is no difference of opinions, but all think alike, all are of one heart and of one mind. Where that offspring of hell, controversy, which turneth this world upside down, can never come. For those who have been sawn asunder thereby, and often cried out in the bitterness of their soul, Peace, peace, shall find what they then sought in vain, even a peace which none taketh from them.
And yet all these, inconceivably great as it is, is the least part of their deliverance. For in the moment wherein they shake off the flesh, they are delivered not only from the troubling of the wicked, not only from pain and sickness, from folly and infirmity, but also from all sin. A deliverance tis, in the sight of which all the rest vanish away. This is the triumphal song which everyone heareth when ye entereth the gates of paradise. Thou being dead, sinest no more. Sin hath no more dominion over thee. For in that thou diedst, thou diedst unto sin once. But in that thou livest, thou livest unto God. Editor's Note The sentiment which is here again expressed, that it is death which destroys sin in the human heart, though couched in the language of an apostle, is a branch of that philosophical mysticism which Mr.
Wesley entertained at this early period of his life, and which he afterwards renounced for the scriptural doctrine of salvation by faith. According to the New Testament, every believer is already delivered from the dominion of sin, and the Bible never represents the entire sanctification of our nature as effected by death. It is the work of the Holy Spirit, and is not suspended upon the dissolution of the body, but upon the exercise of a steadfast faith in the Almighty Savior.
There then the weary be at rest. The blood of the Lamb hath healed all their sickness, hath washed them sorely from their wickedness, and cleansed them from their sin. The disease of their nature is cured, they are at length made whole, they are restored to perfect soundness. They no longer mourn the flesh lusting against the Spirit. The law in their members is now at an end, and no longer wars against the law of their mind and brings them into captivity to the law of sin. There is no root of bitterness left, no remains even of that sin which did so easily beset them, no forgetfulness of him in whom they live, move, and have their being, no ingratitude to their gracious Redeemer who poured out his soul unto the debt for them, no unfaithfulness to that blessed spirit who so long bore with their infirmities.
In a word, No pride, no self-will is there. So that they who are thus delivered from the bondage of corruption may indeed say to one another, and in that emphatical sense, Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it doeth not yet appear what we shall be, but we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Let us view a little more nearly the state of a Christian at his entrance into the other world. Suppose the silver cord of life just loosed. and the wheel broken at the cistern. The heart can now beat no more, the blood ceases to move, the last breath flies off the quivering lips, and the soul springs forth into eternity. What are the thoughts of such a soul, that has just subdued her last enemy, Death, that sees the body of sin lying beneath her, and is born new into the world of spirits?
How does she sing, O Death, where is thy sting, O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be unto God who hath given me the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. O happy day wherein I shall begin to live, wherein I shall taste my native freedom. When I was born of a woman, I had but a short time to live, and that time was full of misery. That corruptible body pressed me down, and enslaved me to sin and pain. But the snare is broken, and I am delivered. Henceforth I know them no more. That head is no more an aching head. Those eyes shall no more run down with tears. That heart shall no more pant with anguish or fear, be weighed down with sorrow or care. Those limbs shall no more be wracked with pain.
Yea, sin hath no more dominion over me. At length I have parted from thee, O my enemy, and I shall see thy face no more. I shall nevermore be unfaithful to my lord, or offend the eyes of his glory. I am no longer that wavering, fickle, self-inconsistent creature, Sinning and repenting, and sinning again. No, I shall never cease day or night to love and praise the Lord my God, with all my heart and with all my strength. But what are ye? Are all these ministering spirits sent forth to minister to one heir of salvation? Then, dust and ashes farewell, I hear a voice from heaven, saying, Come away and rest from thy labors. Thy warfare is accomplished. Thy sin is pardoned. And the days of thy mourning are ended.
My brethren, these truths need little application. Believe ye that these things are so? What then hath each of you to do but to lay aside every weight and run with patience the ray set before him, to count all things else but dung and jaws, especially those grand idols, learning and reputation, if they are pursued in any other measure or with any other view than as they conduce to the knowledge and love of God? To have this one thing continually in thine heart, when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up, to have thy loins ever girt, and thy light burning, to serve the Lord thy God with all thy might, if by any means when he required thy soul of thee, perhaps in an hour when thou lookest not for him, thou mayst enter where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest.
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20 20 - Free Grace 33:38
Free Grace.
To the reader. Nothing but the strongest conviction, not only that what is here advanced is the truth as it is in Jesus, but also that I am indispensably obliged to declare this truth to all the world, could have induced me openly to oppose the sentiments of those whom I esteem for their work's sake, at whose feet may I be found in the day of the Lord Jesus. Should any believe it is his duty to reply to your two, I have only one request to make, that whatsoever you do, be done inherently, in love and in the spirit of meekness. Let your very disputing show that you have put on, as the elect of God, bow of mercies, gentleness, longsuffering, that even according to this time it may be said, see how these Christians love one another.
Whereas a pamphlet entitled, Free Grace Indeed, has been published against this sermon, this is to inform the publisher that I cannot answer his tract till he appears to be more in earnest, for I dare not speak of the deep things of God in the spirit of a prize-fighter or stage-player. He that spared not his own son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? Romans 8.32 How freely does God love the world? While we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly. While we were dead in our sin, God spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all. And how freely with him does he give us all things? Verily, free grace is all in all. The grace or love of God, whence cometh our salvation, is free in all, and free for all.
First it is free in all to whom it is given. It does not depend on any power or merit in man, no, not in any degree, neither in whole nor in part. It does not in any wise depend either on the good works or righteousness of the receiver, not on anything he has done or anything he is. It does not depend on his endeavors. It does not depend on his good tempers, or good desires, or good purposes and intentions, for all these flow from the free race of God. They are the streams only, not the fountain. They are the fruits of free grace, and not the root. They are not the cause, but the effects of it. Whatsoever good is in man, or is done by man, God is the author and doer of it. Thus is his grace free in all.
That is, no way depending on any power or merit in man, but on God alone, who freely gave us his own Son, and with him freely giveth us all things. But it is free for all, as well as in all. To this some have answered, No, it is free only for those whom God hath ordained to life, and they are but a little flock. The greater part of God hath ordained to death, and it is not free for them. Them God hateth, and therefore, before they were born, decreed they should die eternally. And this he absolutely decreed, because so was his good pleasure, because it was his sovereign will. Accordingly, they are born for this, to be destroyed body and soul in hell. And they grow up under the irrevocable curse of God, without any possibility of redemption, for what grace God gives, he gives only for this, to increase, not prevent their damnation.
This, that degree of predestination, But methinks I hear one say, This is not the predestination which I hold. I hold only the election of grace. What I believe is not more than this, that God, before the foundation of the world, did elect a certain number of men to be justified, sanctified, and glorified. Now all these will be saved, and none else, for the rest of mankind God leaves to themselves. So they follow the imaginations of their own hearts, which are only evil continually, and, waxing worse and worse, are at length justly punished with their everlasting destruction. Is this all the predestination which you hold? Consider. Perhaps this is not all. Do not you believe God ordained them to this very thing?
If so, you believe the whole degree. You hold predestination in the full sense which has been above described. But it may be you think you do not. Do not you then believe God hardens the hearts of them that perished? Do not you believe he literally hardened Pharaoh's heart, and that for this end he raised him up or created him? Why, this amount suggests the same thing. If you believe Pharaoh or any one man upon earth was created for this end to be damned, you hold all that has been said of predestination. And there is no need you should add that God seconds his decree, which is supposed unchangeable and irresistible, by hardening the hearts of those vessels of wrath whom that decree had been forfeited for destruction.
Well, but it may be you do not believe even this. You do not hold any decree of reprobation. You do not think God decrees any man to be damned, not hardened, irresistibly fits him for damnation. You only say, God eternally decreed that all being dead in sin, he would say to some of the dry bones, live, and to others, too, and not, that consequently, these should be made alive, and those abide in death. These should glorify God by their salvation, and those by their destruction. Is not this what you mean by the election of grace? If it be, I would ask one or two questions. Are any who are not thus elected saved? Or were any from the foundation of the world? Is it possible any man should be saved unless he be thus elected?
If you say, No, you are but where you was, you are not got one hair's breadth farther. You still believe that, in consequence of an unchangeable, irresistible decree of God, the greater part of mankind abide in death, without any possibility of redemption. Inasmuch as none can save them but God, and he will not save them, you believe he hath absolutely decreed not to save them. And what is this but decreeing to damn them? It is, in effect, neither more nor less. It comes to the same thing. For if you are dead and altogether unable to make yourself alive, then, if God has absolutely decreed he will make only others alive and not you, he has absolutely decreed your everlasting death, you are absolutely consigned to damnation.
So then, though you use softer words than some, you mean the selfsame thing, and God's decree concerning the election of grace, according to your account of it, amounts It was a good time to say, Call it, therefore, by whatever name you please, election, preturition, predestination, or reprobation. It comes, in the end, to the same thing. The sense of all is plainly this. By virtue of an eternal, unchangeable, irresistible decree of God, on part of mankind are infallibly saved, and the rest infallibly damned, its being impossible that any of the former should be damned, or that any of the latter should be saved. But if this be so, then is all preaching vain. It is needless to them that are elected, for they, whether with preaching or without, will infallibly be saved.
Therefore the end of preaching, to save should, is void with regard to them. And it is useless to them that are not elected, for they cannot possibly be saved. They, whether with preaching or without, will infallibly be damned. The end of preaching is therefore void with regard to them likewise, so that, in either case, our preaching is in vain, as you hearing is also vain. This, then, is a plain proof that the doctrine of predestination is not a doctrine of God, because it makes void the ordinance of God, and God is not divided against Himself. A second is that it directly tends to destroy that holiness which is the end of all the ordinances of God. I do not say, none who hold it are holy, for God is of tender mercy to those who are unavoidably entangled in errors of any kind, but that the doctrine itself, that every man is either elected or not elected from eternity, and that the one must inevitably be saved and the other inevitably damned, has a manifest tendency to destroy holiness in general, for holy takes away those first motives to follow after it, so frequently proposed in Scripture.
The hope of future Verse 1. What then? This helps not the matter, for if a sick man knows that he must unavoidably die, or unavoidably recover, though he knows not which, it is unreasonable for him to take any physic at all. He might justly say, and so I have heard some speak, both in bodily sickness and in spiritual, if I am ordained to life, I shall live, if to death, I shall live, so I do not trouble myself about it. So directly does this doctrine tend to shut the very gate of holiness in general, to hinder unholy men from ever approaching thereto, or striving to enter in their act. As directly does this doctrine tend to destroy several particular branches of holiness, such are meekness and love, love, I mean, of our enemies, of the evil and unthankful.
I say not that none who hold it have meekness and love, for as is the power of God, so is his mercy, but that it naturally tends to inspire or increase the sharpness or eagerness of temper, which is contrary to the meekness of Christ, as then especially appears when they are opposed on this head. And it as naturally inspires contempt or coldness towards those whom we suppose outcast from God. Oh, but, you say, I suppose no particular man a reprobate. You mean you would not if you could help it. But you cannot help sometimes applying your general doctrine to particular persons. The enemy of souls will apply it for you. You know how often he has done so. But you rejected the thought with abhorrence.
True, as soon as you could— But how did it sour and sharpen your spirit in the meantime? You well know it was not the spirit of love which you then felt towards that poor sinner, whom you supposed, or suspected, whether you would or no, to have been hated of God from eternity. Thirdly, this doctrine tends to destroy the comfort of religion, the happiness of Christianity. This is evident as to all those who believe themselves to be reprobated, or who only suspect or fear it. All the great and precious promises are lost to them. They afford them no way of comfort, for they are not the elect of God, therefore they have neither lot nor portion in them. This is an effectual bar to their finding any comfort or happiness, even in that religion, whose ways are designed to be ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace.
And as to you who believe yourselves the elect of God, what is your happiness? I, ho, not a notion, a speculative belief, a bare opinion of any kind, but a feeling possession of God in your heart, wrought in you by the Holy Ghost, or the witness of God's Spirit with your spirit, that you are a child of God. This, otherwise termed the full assurance of faith, is the true ground of a Christian's happiness, and it does indeed imply a full assurance that all your past sins are forgiven, that you are now a child of God. But it does not necessarily imply a full assurance of our future perseverance. I do not say this is never joined to it, but that it is not necessarily implied therein. For many have the one who have not the other.
Now this witness of the spirit experience shows to be much obstructed by this doctrine, and not only in those who, believing themselves reprobated by this belief, thrust it far from them, but even in them that have tasted of that good gift, who yet have soon lost it again, and fallen back into doubts and fears and darkness, horrible darkness, that might be felt. And I appeal to any of you who hold this doctrine to say between God and your own hearts whether you have not often a return. of doubts and fears concerning your election or perseverance. If you ask, who has not? I answer, very few of those that hold this doctrine, but many, very many of those that hold it not in all parts of the earth, many of these have enjoyed the uninterrupted witness of his spirit, the continual light of his countenance from the moment wherein they first believed, for many months or years to this day.
That assurance of faith which these enjoys excludes all doubt and fear. It excludes all kinds of doubt and fear concerning their future perseverance, though it is not properly, as was said before, an assurance of what is future, but only of what now is. And this needs not for its support a speculative belief that whoever is once ordained to life must live, for it is wrought from hour to hour by the mighty power of God, by the Holy Ghost which is given unto them, And therefore that doctrine is not of God, because it tends to obstruct, if not destroy, this great work of the Holy Ghost, whence flows the chief comfort of religion, the happiness of Christianity. Again, how uncomfortable a thought is this, that thousands and millions of men, without any proceeding, offense, or fault of theirs, were unchangeably doomed to everlasting burnings!
How peculiarly uncomfortable must it be to those who have put on Christ, to those who, being filled with bowels of mercy, tenderness, and compassion, could even wish themselves accursed for their brethren's sake. Fourthly, this uncomfortable doctrine directly tends to destroy our zeal for good works. And this it does. First, as it naturally tends, according to what was observed before, to destroy our love to the greater part of mankind, namely, the evil and unthankful. For whatever lessens our love must go far lessen our desire to do them good. This it does. Secondly, as it cuts off one of the strongest motives to all acts of bodily mercy, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and the like, namely, the hope of saving their souls from death.
For what avails it to relieve their temporal wants, who are just dropping into eternal fire? Well, but run and snatch them as brands out of the fire. Nay, this you suppose impossible. They were appointed thereunto, you say, from eternity, before they had done either good or evil. You believe it is the will of God they should die. And who hath resisted his will? But you say you do not know whether these are elected or not. What then, if you know they are one or the other, that they are either elected or not elected, all your labor is void and vain? In either case, your advice, reproof, or exhortation is as needless and useless as our preaching. It is needless to them that are elected, for they will infallibly be saved without it.
It is useless to them that are not elected, for with or without it they will infallibly be damned. Therefore, you cannot consistently, with your principles, take any pains about their salvation. Consequently, those principles directly tend to destroy your zeal for good works, for all good works, but particularly for the greatest of all, the saving of souls from death. But fifthly, this doctrine not only tends to destroy Christian holiness, happiness, and good works, but hath also a direct and manifest tendency to overthrow the whole Christian revelation. The point which the wisest of the modern unbelievers most industriously labor to prove is that the Christian revelation is not necessary. They well know, could they once show this, the conclusion would be too plain to be denied.
If it be not necessary, it is not true. Now, this fundamental point you give up. For supposing that eternal, unchangeable decree, one part of mankind must be saved, though the Christian revelation were not in being, and the other part of mankind must be damned, notwithstanding the revelation. And what would an infidel desire more? You allow him all he asks, and making the gospel thus unnecessary to all sorts of men, you give up the whole Christian cause. O tell it not in gas, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised rejoice, lest the sons of unbelief triumph. And as this doctrine manifestly and directly tends to overthrow the whole Christian revelation, so it does the same thing by plain consequence and making that revelation contradict itself.
For it is grounded on such an interpretation of some texts, more or fewer, it matters not, as flatly contradicts all the other texts, and indeed the whole scope and tenor of Scripture. For instance, the assertors of this doctrine interpret that text of Scripture, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated, as implying that God, in a literal sense, hated Esau, and all the reprobated from eternity. Now, what can possibly be a more flat contradiction than this, not only to the whole scope and tenor of Scripture, but also to all those particular texts which expressly declare, God is love. Again, they infer from that text, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, Romans 4, 15, that God is love only to some men, namely, the elect, and that he hath mercy for those only, flatly contrary to which it is the whole tenor of Scripture, as is that expressed declaration in particular.
The Lord is loving unto every man, and his mercy is over all his works. Psalms 1, 45, 9. Again, they infer from that in the like text, It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy, that he sheweth mercy only to those to whom he has respect from all eternity. Nay, but who replieth against God now? You now contradict the whole oracles of God, which declare throughout, God is no respecter of persons. Acts 10.34. There is no respect of persons with him. Romans 2.11. Again, from that text, the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purposes of God, according to election, might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth, it was said unto her, unto Rebekah, the elder shall serve the younger.
You infer that our being predestinated, or elect, no way depends on the foreknowledge of God. Flatly contrary to this are all the Scriptures, and those in particular, elect according to the foreknowledge of God.
Whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate. And the same Lord over all is rich, and mercy to all that call upon him.
But you say, No, he is such only to those for whom Christ died. And those are not all, but only a few, whom God hath chosen out of the world. For he died not for all, but only for those who were chosen in him. Ephesians 1.4 Flatly contrary to your interpretation of these scriptures also, is the whole tenor of the New Testament, as are in particular those texts. A clear proof that Christ died, not only for those that are saved, but also for them that perish. He is the Savior of the world. He is the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world.
He is the propitiation, not for our sins only, but also for the sins of the whole world. He is the living God, is the Savior of all men. 1 Timothy 4.10 He gave himself a ransom for all. 1 Timothy 2.6 He tasted death for every man. Hebrews 2.9 If you ask, why then are not all men saved? The whole law and the testimony answer. First, not because of any decree of God, not because it is It is pleasure they should die, for, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth. Ezekiel 18, 3, 32. Whatever be the cause of their perishing, it cannot be His will. The oracles of God are true, for they declare, He is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
2 Peter 3.9 He willeth that all men should be saved. And they, secondly, declare what is the cause why all men are not saved, namely, that they will not be saved. So our Lord expressly, Ye will not come unto me that ye may have life. John 5, 40. The power of the Lord is present to heal. But they will not be healed. They reject the counsel, the merciful counsel, of God against themselves, as did their stiff-necked forefathers. And therefore are they without excuse, because God would save them, but they will not be saved. This is the condemnation. How often would I have gathered you together, and you would not? Thus manifestly does this doctrine tend to overthrow the whole Christian revelation by making it contradict itself.
By giving such an interpretation of some texts as flatly contradicts all the other texts, and indeed the whole scope and tenor of Scripture, an abundant proof that it is not of God. But neither is this all. For, seventhly, it is a doctrine full of blasphemy, of such blasphemy as I should dread to mention, but that the honor of our gracious God and the cause of his truth will not suffer me to be silent. In the cause of God, then, and from a sincere concern for the glory of his name, I will mention a few of the horrible blasphemies contained in this horrible doctrine. But first I must warn every one of you that hears, as you will answer it at the great day, not to charge me. As some have done with blasphemy, because I mentioned the blasphemy of others.
And the more you are grieved with them that do thus blasphemy, see that ye confirm your love towards them, the more, and that your heart's desire and continual prayer to God be, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. This premise, let it be observed that this doctrine represents our blessed Lord, Jesus Christ the righteous, the only begotten Son of the Father, full of grace and truth, as an hypocrite, a deceiver of the people, a man void of common sincerity. For it cannot be denied that he everywhere speaks as if he was willing that all men should be saved. Therefore, to say that he was not willing that all men should be saved is to represent him as a mere hypocrite and dissembler.
It cannot be denied that the gracious words which came out of his mouth are He was full of invitations to all sinners. To say, then, he did not intend to save all sinners is to represent him as a gross deceiver of the people. You cannot deny that he says, Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden. If, then, you say he calls those that cannot come, Those whom he knows to be unable to come, those whom he can make able to come but will not, how is it possible to describe greater insincerity? You represent him as mocking his helpless creatures by offering what he never intends to give. You describe him as saying on thing and meaning another, as pretending to love which he has had not. Him, in whose mouth was no guile, you make full of deceit, void of common sincerity.
Then especially when, drawing nigh the city, he wept over it, and said, O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee. How often would I have gathered thy children together, and ye would not. Ethelesake, Oc. Ethelesate. Now, if you say, they would, but he would not, you represent him, which who could hear, as weeping crocodiles' tears, weeping over the prey which himself had doomed to destruction. Such blasphemy this, as one would think, might make the ears of a Christian to tingle. But there is yet more behind, for just as it honors his son, so does this doctrine honor the father. It destroys all his attributes at once. It overturns both his justice, mercy, and truth.
Yes, it represents the most holy God, as worse than the devil, as both more false, more cruel, and more unjust. More false because the devil, liar as he is, hath never said he willeth all men to be saved. More unjust, because the devil cannot, if he would, be guilty of such injustice as you ascribe to God, when you say that God condemned millions of souls to everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels for continuing in sin, which For want of that grace he will not give them, they cannot avoid, and more cruel, because that unhappy spirit seeketh rest and findeth none, so that his own restless misery is a kind of temptation to him to tempt others. But God resteth in his high and holy place, so that to suppose him, Of his own mere notion, of his pure will and pleasure, happy as he is to doom his creatures, whether they will or no, to endless misery, is to impute such cruelty to him as we cannot impute even to the great enemy of God and man.
It is to represent the High God, he that hath ears, let him hear, as more cruel, false, and unjust than the Devil. This is the blasphemy clearly contained in the horrible decree of predestination. And here I fix my foot. On this I join issue with every assertor of it. You represent God as worse than the devil, more false, more cruel, more unjust. But you say you will prove it by Scripture. Hold! What will you prove by Scripture? That God is worse than the devil? It cannot be. Whatever that Scripture proves, it never can prove this, whatever its true meaning be. This cannot be its true meaning. Do you ask, what is its true meaning, then, if I say, I know not? You have gained nothing, for there are many scriptures, the true sense whereof neither you nor I shall know till death is swallowed up in victory.
But this I know, better it were to say it had no sense, than to say it had such a sense as this. It cannot mean, whatever it means besides, that the God of truth is a liar. Let it mean what it will, it cannot mean that the judge of all the world is unjust. No scripture can mean that God is not love, or that his mercy is not over all his That is, whatever it can prove beside, no scripture can prove predestination. This is the blasphemy for which, however I love the persons who assert it, I abhor the doctrine of predestination, a doctrine upon supposition of which, if one could possibly suppose it for a moment, call it election, reprobation, or what you please, for all comes to the same thing. One might say to our adversary, the devil, thou fool.
Why dost thou roar about any longer? Thy line in wait for souls is as needless and useless as our preaching. Hearest thou not that God hath taken thy work out of thy hands, and that he doeth it much more effectually? With all thy principalities and power, canst only so assault that we may resist thee, but he can irresistibly destroy both body and soul in hell. Thou canst only entice, but his unchangeable decrees, to leave thousands of souls in death, compels them to continue in sin, till they drop into everlasting burnings. Thou temptest, he forced us to be damned, for we cannot resist his will. Thou fool, why goest thou about any longer, seeking Whom thou mayest devour? Hearest thou not that God is the devouring lion, the destroyer of souls, the murderer of men?
Moloch caused only children to pass through the fire, and that fire was soon quenched, or, the corruptible body being consumed, its torment was at an end. But God, thou art told, by his eternal decree, Fixed before they had done good or evil, causes not only children of a span long, but the parents also, to pass through the fire of hell, the fire which never shall be quenched, and the body which is cast thereinto, being now incorruptible and immortal, will be ever-consuming and never consumed. But the smoke of their torment, because it is God's good pleasure, ascendeth up forever and ever. O, how would the enemy of God and man rejoice to hear these things were so? How would he cry aloud and spare not?
How would he lift up his voice and say, To your tents, O Israel, flee from the face of this God, or you shall utterly perish? But whither will ye flee? Into heaven? He is there. Down to hell? He is there also. Ye cannot flee from an omnipresent. Almighty Tyrant, and whether ye flee or stay, I call heaven his throne, and earth his footstool, to witness against you ye shall perish, ye shall die eternally. Sing, O hell, and rejoice, ye that are under the earth. For God, even the mighty God, hath spoken, and devoted to death thousands of souls, From the rising of the sun, unto the going down thereof. Here, O death, is thy sting. They shall not, cannot escape, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.
Here, O grave, is thy victory. Nations yet unborn, or ever they have done good or evil, are doomed. Never to see the light of life, but thou shalt gnaw upon them for ever and ever. Let all those morning stars sing together, who fell with Lucifer, son of the morning. Let all the sons of hell shout for joy, for the decree is past, and who shall just annul it? Yea, the decree is past, and so it was before the foundation of the world. But what decree, even this? I will set before the sons of men, life and death, blessing and cursing. And the soul that chooseth life shall live, and the soul that chooseth death shall die. This decree, whereby whom God did foreknow, he did predestinate, was indeed from everlasting.
This, whereby all who suffer Christ to make them alive are elect according to the foreknowledge of God, now standeth fast, even as the moon, and as the faithful witnesses and And when heaven and earth shall pass away, yet this shall not pass away, for it is as unchangeable and eternal as is the being of God that made it. This decree yields the strongest encouragement to abound in all good works and in all holiness, and it is a Wellspring of joy, of happiness also, to our great and endless comfort. This is worthy of God. It is every way consistent with all the perfections of His nature. It gives us the noblest view, both of His justice, mercy, and truth. To this agrees the whole scope of the Christian revelation, as well as all the parts thereof.
To this Moses and all the prophets bear witness, and our blessed Lord and all His apostles. Thus Moses, in the name of his Lord, I call heaven and earth to record against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Therefore choose life, that thou and thy seed may live. Thus Ezekiel, to cite one prophet for all, The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The Son shall not bear, eternally, the iniquity of the Father. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. Chapter 18, verse 20. Thus, our blessed Lord, if any man thirsts, let him come unto me, and drink. John 7.37 Thus, his great apostle St. Paul, Acts 17.30 God commandeth all men everywhere to repent, all men everywhere, every man in every place, without any exception either of place or person.
Thus, St. James, if any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given to him. James 1.5 Thus St. Peter 2 Peter 3.9 The Lord is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. And thus St. John If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, and he is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world. 1 John 2.1-2 O hear ye this, ye that forget God, ye cannot charge your death upon him. Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die, saith the Lord God? Ezekiel 18.23 and following. Repent, and turn from all your transgressions, so iniquity shall not be your ruin.
Cast away from you all your transgressions, whereby ye have transgressed. For why will ye die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God. Wherefore, turn yourselves, and live ye. As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die, O house of Israel? Ezekiel 33, 11.
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21 21 - The Cause and Cure of Earthquakes 39:15
21. Of Sermons on Several Occasions. 3rd through 5th series.
Sermons on several occasions, third through fifth series by John Wesley. Sermon 129. The Cause and Cure of Earthquakes. O come hither, and behold the works of the Lord, what destruction He hath brought upon the earth. Psalm 46, colon 8. Of all the judgments which the righteous God inflicts on sinners here, the most dreadful and destructive is an earthquake. This He has lately brought on our part. of the earth, and thereby alarmed our fears, and bid us prepare to meet our God. The shocks which have been felt in divers places since that which made this city tremble may convince us that the danger is not over, and ought to keep us still in awe, seeing his anger is not turned away, but his band is stretched out still.
Isaiah 10, colon 4. That I may fall in with the design of providence at this awful crisis, I shall take occasion from the words of my text. 1. To show that earthquakes are the works of the Lord, and He only bringeth this destruction upon the earth. 2. Call you to behold the works of the Lord in two or three terrible instances. 3. Give you some direction suitable to the occasion. 1. I am to show you that earthquakes are the works of the Lord, and He only bringeth this destruction upon the earth. Now, that God is Himself the author and sin the moral cause of earthquakes, whatever the natural cause may be, cannot be denied by any who believe the Scriptures. For these are they which testify of him that it is God, which removeth the mountains, and overturneth them in his anger, which shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble.
Job 9, 5, 6. He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth. He toucheth the hills, and they smoke. Psalms 104,32. The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth. Psalms 97,5. The mountains quake at him, and the hills melt. Who can stand before his indignation, and who can abide in the fierceness of his anger? His fury is poured out like fire. And the rocks are thrown down by him. Nahum 1,5,6 Earthquakes are set forth by the inspired writers as God's proper judicial act for the punishment of sin. Sin is the cause, earthquakes the effect, of his anger. So the psalmist. The earth trembleth and quaked. The very foundations also of the hill shook.
and were removed.
Psalms 18, 7 So the prophet Isaiah, I will punish the world for their evil, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible. Therefore I will shake the heavens, and the earth shall remove out of her place in the wrath of the Lord of hosts, and in the day of his fierce anger. Isaiah 13, 11, 13. And again, Behold, the Lord maketh the earth empty, and maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down. In the original perverteth the face thereof, and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof. For the windows from on high are open, and the foundations of the earth do shake. The earth is utterly broken down. The earth is clean dissolved. The earth is moved exceedingly. The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, and shall be removed like a cottage, and the transgression thereof shall be heavy upon it, and it shall fall and not rise again.
Isaiah 24, 1,18-20 Tremble, thou earth. at the presence of the God of Jacob. Psalm 114,7 Thou shalt be visited of the Lord of hosts with thunder and with earthquake and great noise. Isaiah, Twenty Nine, Colon Six. Nothing can be more express than these scripture testimonies, which determine both the cause and author of this terrible calamity. But reason, as well as faith, doth sufficiently assure us it must be the punishment of sin, and the effect of that curse which was brought upon the earth by the original transgression. Steadfastness must be no longer looked for in the world, since innocency is banished thence. But we cannot conceive that the universe would have been disturbed by these furious accidents during the state of original righteousness.
Wherefore should God's anger have armed the elements against his faithful subjects? Wherefore should he have overthrown all his works to destroy innocent men? Or why overwhelmed the inhabitants of the earth with the ruins thereof? If they had not been sinful, why buried those in the bowels of the earth who were not to die? Let us then conclude, both from Scripture and reason, that earthquakes are God's strange works of judgment, the proper effect and punishment of sin. I proceed to set before you these works of the Lord in two or three terrible instances. In the year 1692, there happened in Sicily one of the most dreadful earthquakes in all history. It shook the whole island, and not only that, but Naples and Malta shared in the shock.
It was impossible for anyone to keep on their legs on the dancing earth. Nay, those who lay on the ground were tossed from side to side as on a rolling billow. High walls leaped from their foundations several paces. The mischief it did is amazing. Fifty-four cities and towns, besides an incredible number of villages, were almost entirely destroyed. Catania, one of the most famous ancient and flourishing cities in the kingdom, the residence of several monarchs, and an university. had the greatest share in the judgment. Father Anthony, Servota, being on his way tither, a few miles from the city, observed a black cloud, like night hovering over it, and there arose from the mouth of Edna great spires of flame, which spread all around the sea, all on a sudden, began to roar and rise in billows.
The birds flew about, astonished. The cattle ran crying in the fields, and there was a blow, as if all the artillery in the world had been discharged at once. His and his companion's horses stopped short, trembling so that they were forced to alight. They were no sooner off, but they were lifted from the ground above two palms, when, casting his eyes towards Catania, he was astonished to see nothing but a thick cloud of dust in the air. This was the scene of their calamity, for of the magnificent Catania there is not the least footstep to be seen. Of 18,914 inhabitants, 18,000 perished therein, in the several cities and towns. Sixty thousand were destroyed, out of 254,900. In the same year, 1692, on June 7, was the earthquake in Jamaica.
It threw down most of the houses, churches, sugar-works, mills, and bridges throughout the island, tore the rocks and mountains, reducing some of them to plains, destroyed whole plantations, and threw them into the sea, and in two minutes' time shook down and destroyed nine-tenths of the town of Port Royal. The houses sunk outright thirty or forty fathom deep. The earth opening swallowed up people, and they rose in other streets, some in the midst of the harbor, being driven up again by the sea which rose in those breeches, and so wonderfully escaped. Of all wells, from one fathom to six or seven, the water flew out of the top with a vehement motion, while the houses on one side of the street were swallowed up.
On the other, they were thrown into heaps. The sand in the street rose like waves of the sea, lifting up every body that stood on it, and immediately dropping down into pits, and at the same instant, a flood of water, breaking in, rolled them over and over, while catching hold of beams and rafters to save themselves. Ships and sloops in the harbor were overset and lost. A vessel, by the motion of the sea and sinking of the wharf, was driven over the tops of many houses and sunk there. The earthquake was attended with a hollow rumbling sound, like that of thunder. In less than a minute, three-quarters of the houses and the ground they stood on with the inhabitants were quite sunk under water, and the little part left behind was no better than a heap of rubbish.
The shock was so violent that it threw people down on their knees or their faces as they were running about for shelter. The ground heaved and swelled like a rolling sea, and several houses, still standing, were shuffled and moved some yards out of their places. A whole street is said to be twice as broad now as before. In many places the earth would crack and open and shut quick and fast, of which openings two or three hundred might be seen at a time, in some whereof the people were swallowed up, others the closing earth caught by the middle, and squeezed to death, and in that manner they were left buried, with only their heads above ground. Some heads the dogs ate. The minister of the place, in his account, saith that such was the desperate wickedness of the people, that he was afraid to continue among them.
that on the day of the earthquake some sailors and others fell to breaking open and rifling warehouses, and houses deserted, while the earth trembled under them, and the houses fell upon them in the act. That he met many swearing and blaspheming, and that the common harlots, who remained still upon the place, were as drunken and impudent as ever. While he was running towards the fort, a wide-open place, to save himself, He saw the earth open and swallow up a multitude of people, and the sea mounting in upon them over the fortifications. It likewise destroyed their large burying-place, and washed away the carcasses out of the graves, dashing their tombs to pieces. The whole harbor was covered with dead bodies, floating up and down without burial.
As soon as the violent shock was over, he desired all people to join with him in prayer. Among them were several Jews who kneeled and answered. As they did, and were heard even to call upon Jesus Christ. After he had spent an hour and a half with them in prayer and exhortations to repentance, he was desired to retire to some ship in the harbor, and passing over the tops of some houses which lay level with the water, got first into a canoe and then into a long boat which put him on board a ship. The larger openings swallowed up houses, and out of some would issue whole rivers of water, spouted up a great height into the air, and, threatening a deluge to that part which the earthquake spared, the hole was attended with offensive smells and the noise of falling mountains.
The sky, in a minute's time, was turned dull and red like a glowing oven. Scarce a planting-house or sugar-work was left standing in all Jamaica. A great part of them was swallowed up—houses, trees, people, and all at one gape, in the place of which afterwards appeared great pools of water, which, when dried up, left nothing but sand without any mark that ever tree or plant had been thereon. About twelve miles from the sea the earth gaped and spouted out with a prodigious force vast quantities of water into the air. But the greatest violence was among the mountains and rocks. Most of the rivers were stopped for twenty-four hours by the falling of the mountains, till, swelling up, they made themselves new channels, tearing up trees and all they met with in their passage.
A great mountain split and fell into the level ground, and covered several settlements, and destroyed the people there. Another mountain, having made several leaps or moves, overwhelmed a great part of a plantation, lying a mile off. Another mountain near a day's journey over, was quite swallowed up, and where it stood is now a great lake some leagues over. After the great shake, those who escaped got on board ships in the harbor, where many continued over, above two months, the shakes all that time being so violent and coming so thick, sometimes two or three in an hour, accompanied with frightful noises like a ruffling wind or a howl, rumbling thunder, with brimstone blasts. That they durst not come ashore.
The consequence of the earthquake was a general sickness from the noisome vapors which swept away above three thousand persons. On the 28th of October, 1746, half an hour past ten at night, Lima, the capital city of Peru, was destroyed by an earthquake which extended a hundred leagues northward and as many more to the south all along the sea. The destruction did not so much as give time for fright, for, at one and the same instant, the noise, the shock, and the ruin were perceived. In the space of four minutes, during which the greatest force of the earthquake lasted, some found themselves buried under the ruins of the falling houses, and others crushed to death in the streets by the tumbling of the walls, which fell upon them as they ran here and there.
Nevertheless, the greater part of the inhabitants, who are computed near Sixty thousand were providentially preserved, either in the hollow places which the ruins left, or on the top of the very ruins themselves, without knowing how they got up tither. For no person at such a season had time for deliberation, and supposing he had, there was no place of retreat, for the parts which seemed most firm sometimes proved the weakest. On the contrary, the weakest at intervals made the greatest resistance, and the consternation was such that no one thought himself secure till he had made his escape out of the city. The earth struck against the buildings with such violence that every shock beat down the greatest part of them, and these, tearing along with them vast weights in their fall, especially the churches and high houses, completed the destruction of everything they encountered with, even of what the earthquake had spared.
The shocks, although instantaneous, were yet successive. And at intervals men were transported from one place to another, which was the means of safety to some, while the utter impossibility of moving preserved others. There were seventy-four churches besides the chapels, and fourteen monasteries, with as many more hospitals and infirmaries, which were in all instant reduced to a ruinous heap, and their immense riches buried in the earth, but though scarce twenty houses were left standing, Yet it does not appear that the number of the dead amounted to much more than 1,141 persons, 70 of whom were patients in an hospital, who were buried by the roof falling upon them as they lay in their beds, no person being able to give them any assistance.
Calao, a seaport town two leagues distant from Lima, was swallowed up by the sea in the same earthquake. It vanished out of sight in a moment. so that not the least sight of it now appears. Some few towers, indeed, and the strength of its walls for a time endured the whole force of the earthquake, but scarcely had its poor inhabitants begun to recover their first fright, which the dreadful ruin had occasioned, when suddenly the sea began to swell, and rising to a prodigious height, rushed furiously forward, and overflowed with so vast a deluge of water its ancient bounds that, foundering, most of the ships which were at anchor in the port, and lifting the rest above the height of the walls and towers.
It drove them on and left them on dry ground far beyond the town. At the same time, it tore up from the foundations everything therein, of houses and buildings, excepting the two gates, and here and there some small fragments of the walls themselves, which as registers of the calamity are still to be seen among the ruins and the waters. A dreadful monument of what they were. In this raging flood were drowned all the inhabitants of the place, about five thousand persons, such as could lay hold on any pieces of timber, floated about for a considerable time, but those fragments, for want of room, were continually striking against each other, and so beat off those who had clung to them. About two hundred, mostly fishermen and sailors, saved themselves.
They declared that the waves in their retreat surrounded the whole town, without leaving any means for preservation. Add that, in the intervals, when the violence of the inundation was a little abated, they heard the most mournful cries and shrieks of those who perished. Those, likewise, who were on board the ships, which, by the elevation of the sea, were carried quite over the town, had the opportunity of escaping. Of twenty-three ships in the port at the same time of the earthquake, Four were stranded, and all the rest floundered. The few persons who saved themselves upon flanks were several times driven about as far as the island of St. Lawrence, more than two leagues from the fort. At last some of them were cast upon the seashore, others upon the island, and so were preserved.
In these instances we may behold and see the works of the Lord, and how terrible He is in His doings. Psalm 66, colon 5. Indeed, nothing can be so affecting as this judgment of earthquakes when it comes unexpectedly as a thief in the night, when hell enlarges herself and open her mouth without measure, and their glory and their multitude and their pomp, and he that rejoiceth descent into it. Isaiah 5, colon 14. When there is no time to flee, or method to escape, or possibility to resist, when no sanctuary or refuge remains, no shelter is to be found in the highest towers or lowest caverns, when the earth opens on a sudden and becomes the grave of whole families, streets, and cities, and affects this in less time than you are able to tell the story of it, either sending out a flood of waters to drown, or vomiting out flames of fire to consume them.
or closing again upon them, that they die by suffocation or famine, if not by the ruins of their own dwelling, when parents and children, husbands and wives, masters and servants, magistrates, ministers, and people without distinction, in the midst of health and peace and business, are buried in a common ruin and pass altogether into the eternal world. And there is only the difference of a few hours or minutes between a famous city and none at all. Now, if war be a terrible evil, how much more an earthquake, which, in the midst of peace, brings a worse evil than the extremity of war? If a raging pestilence be dreadful, which sweeps away thousands in a day, thousands in a night? If a consuming fire be an amazing judgment, how much more astonishing is this?
whereby houses and inhabitants, towns and cities and countries are all destroyed at one stroke. In a few minutes, death is the only presage of such a judgment, without giving leisure to prepare for another world, or opportunity to look for any shelter in this. For a man to feel the earth, which hangeth upon nothing, but as some vast ball in the midst of a thin, yielding air totter under him, Must fill him with secret fright and confusion. History informs us of the fearful effects of earthquakes in all ages, where you may see rocks torn in pieces, mountains not cast down only, but removed, hills raised, not out of valleys only, but out of seas, fires breaking out of waters, stones and cinders belched up, rivers changed, seas dislodged, earth opening, towns swallowed up.
And many such like hideous events. Of all divine and im-adversions, there is none more horrid, more inevitable than this. For where can we think to escape danger if the most solid thing in all the world shakes? If that which sustains all other things threaten us with sinking under our feet, what sanctuary shall we find from an evil that encompasses us about? And whither Can we withdraw if the gulfs which open themselves shut up our passages on every side? With what horror are men struck when they hear the earth groan, when our trembling succeeds our complaints, when houses are loosened from their foundations, when the roofs fall upon their heads and the pavement sinks under their feet? What hope, when fear cannot be fenced by flight?
In other evils there is some way to escape. But an earthquake encloses what it overthrows, and wages war with whole provinces, and sometimes leaves nothing behind it to inform posterity of its outrages. More insolent than fire, which bears rocks, more cruel than the conqueror who leaves walls, more greedy than the sea which vomits up shipwrecks. It swallows and devours whatsoever it overturns. The sea itself is subject to its empires. And the most dangerous storms are those occasioned by earthquakes. I come in the third and last place to give you some direction suitable to the occasion, and this is the most needful, because ye know not how soon the late earthquake, wherewith God hath visited us, may return, or whether he may not enlarge as well as repeat its commission.
Once, yea, twice, hath the Lord warned us. That he is arisen to shake terribly the earth. Wherefore, fear God, even that God can, in a moment, cast body and soul into hell, enter into the rock, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the Lord, and for the glory of his majesty. Isaiah 1,10. Ought we not all to cry out, Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty? Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name? For thy judgments are made manifest.
God speaks to your hearts, as in subterranean thunder. The Lord's voice crieth unto the city. Hear the rod, and who hath appointed it? He commands you to take notice of his power and justice.
While a fresh seal is opening, yea, come and see the works of God. His is terrible in his doings towards the children of men. Psalm 66, 5. When he makes the mountains tremble, and the earth shake, shall not our hearts be moved? Fear ye not me, saith the Lord, and will ye not tremble at my presence? Jeremiah 5, 22. Will ye not fear me, who can open the windows of heaven above, or break up the fountains of the deep below, and pour forth whole floods of vengeance? When I please, who can rain upon the wicked snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest? Psalms 11, colon 6. Or kindle those streams and exaltations in the bowels and caverns of the earth, and make them force their way to the destruction of towns, cities, and countries?
Who can thus suddenly turn a fruitful land into a barren wilderness, an amazing spectacle of desolation and ruin? Shall a trumpet be blown in the city, and the people not be afraid? Shall there be evil in a city, and the Lord hath not done it? The lion hath roared, who will not fear? With God his terrible majesty, men do therefore fear him. Some do, and all ought. O that is fear! Might this moment fall upon all you who hear these words, constraining every one of you to cry out, My flesh trembleth for fear of thee. And I am afraid of thy judgments. Psalms 109.10. Oh, that all might see, now his hand is lifted up, as in act to strike is stretched out still, and shakes his rod over again.
And shall not I wait for these things, saith the Lord, and shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this? Jeremiah 5,9. What but national repentance can prevent national destruction? O consider this, ye that forget God, lest He pluck you away, and there be none to deliver you. Psalms 50,22. That iniquity may not be your ruin. Repent. This is the second advice I would offer you, or rather, the first enforced upon you farther, and explained. Fear God, and depart from evil. Repent, and bring forth fruits. Meet for repentance. Break off our sins this moment. Wash ye, make you clean, and put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes. Cease to do evil, learn to do well, saith the Lord.
Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Therefore now, saith the Lord, who is not willing, any should perish. Turn ye. Unto me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning, and rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger. and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil. Who knoweth if he will return and repent and leave a blessing behind him? Joel, two, two, two, and twelve dash fourteen. Who knoweth The question which should make you tremble. God is weighing you in the balance, and as it were, considering whether to save or to destroy. Say unto the children of Israel, Ye are a stiff-necked people, I will come up into the midst of thee in a moment, and consume thee.
Therefore now put off thy ornaments from thee, that I may know what to do unto thee. Exodus 33, 5. God waits to see what effect His warnings will have upon you. He pauses on the point of executing judgment and cries, How shall I give thee up? Hosea 11, 8. Or why should ye be stricken any more? Isaiah 1, 5. He hath no pleasure in the death of him that dieth. He would not bring to past his strange act, unless your obstinate impenitents compel him. Why will you die, O house of Israel? Ezekiel 18, 31. God warns you of the approaching judgment, that ye may take warning, and escape it by timely repentance. He lifts up his hand and shakes it over you, that ye may see it, and prevent the stroke. He tells you, now is the axe laid onto the root of the trees.
Matthew 3, 10. Therefore repent. Bring forth good fruit, and ye shall not be hewn down and cast into the fire. O, do not despise the riches of His mercy, but let it lead you to repentance. Account that the longsuffering of the Lord is salvation. 2 Peter 3,15 Harden not your hearts, but turn to Him that smites you, or rather threatens to smite, that ye may turn and be spared. How slow is the Lord to anger? How unwilling to punish? By what leisurely steps does he come to take vengeance? How many lighter afflictions before the final blow? Should he beckon the man on the red horse to return and say, Sword, go through this land. Can we complain he gave us no warning? Did not the sword first bereave abroad?
And did we not then see? It within our borders. Yet the merciful God said, Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further. He stopped the invaders in the midst of our land, and turned them back again, and destroyed them. Should he send the man on the pale horse, whose name is Death, and the pestilence destroy thousands and ten thousands of us, can we deny that first he warned us by the raging mortality among our cattle? So, if we provoke him to lay waste our earth, and turn it upside down, and overthrow us, as he overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, shall we not have procured this unto ourselves? Had we no reason to expect any such calamity, no previous notice, no trembling of the earth before it clave, no shock before it opened its mouth, did he set no examples of so terrible a judgment before our eyes?
Had we never heard of the destruction of Jamaica, or Catania, or that of Lima, which happened but yesterday? If we perish at last, we perish without excuse, for what could have been done more to save us? Yes, thou hast now another call to repentance, another offer of mercy, whosoever thou art, that hearest these words. In the name of the Lord Jesus, I warn thee once more, as a watchman over the house of Israel. To flee the wrath to come, I put thee in remembrance, if thou hast so soon forgotten it, of the late awful judgment whereby God shook thee over the mouth of hell. Thy body he probably awoke by it, but did he awake thy soul? The Lord was in the earthquake, and put a solemn question to thy conscience.
Art thou ready to die? Is thy peace made with God? Was the earth just now to open its mouth? And swallow thee up. What would become of thee? Where wouldst thou be in Abraham's bosom, or lifting up thine eyes in torment? Hast thou perished by the late earthquake? Wouldst thou have died in thy sins, or rather gone down quick into hell? Who prevented thy temptation? It was the Son of God. O fall down and worship Him. Give Him the glory of thy deliverance, and devote the residue of thy days to His service. This is the third advice I would give you. Repent and believe the gospel. Believe on the Lord Jesus, and ye shall yet be saved. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish. Repentance alone will profit you nothing.
Neither do ye repent, unless ye confess with broken hearts the most damnable of all your sins, your unbelief. You, having rejected or not accepted Jesus Christ as your only Savior, Neither can ye repent unless he himself gives the power, unless his spirit convents you of sin, because ye believe not in him. Till ye repent of your unbelief, all your good desires and promises are vain, and will pass away as a morning cloud. The vows which ye make in a time of trouble, ye will forget and break as soon as the trouble is over and the danger past. But shall ye escape for your wickedness? Suppose the earthquake should not return. God will never want ways and means to punish impenitent sinners. He hath a thousand other judgments in reserve, and if the earth should not open its mouth, yet he shall surely at last be swallowed up in the bottomless pit of hell.
Wouldst thou not escape that eternal death? Then receive the sentence of death in thyself, thou miserable, self-destroyed sinner. Know thy want of living, saving, divine faith, grown under thy burden of unbelief, and refuse to be comforted till thou hear him of his own mouth say, Be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee. I cannot take it for granted that all men have faith, or speak to the sinners of this land as to believers in Jesus Christ. For where are the fruits of faith? Faith worketh by love. Faith overcometh the world. Faith purifieth the heart. Faith, in the smallest measure, removeth mountains. If thou canst believe, all things are possible to thee. If thou art justified by faith, thou hast peace with God, and rejoicest in hope of his glorious appearing.
He that believeth hath the witness in himself, hath the earnest of heaven in his heart, hath love stronger than death. Death to a believer has lost its sting. Therefore will he not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea?
For he knows in whom he has believed, and that neither life nor death shall be able to separate him from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus his Lord. Dost thou so believe? Prove thine own self by the infallible word of God. If thou hast not the fruits, effects, or inseparable properties of faith, thou hast not faith, come then to the author and finisher of faith, confessing thy sins and the root of all, thy unbelief, till he forgive thee thy sins and cleanse thee from all unrighteousness. Come to the friend of sinners, weary and heavy-laden, and he will give thee pardon. Cast thy poor, desperate soul on his dying love. Enter into the rock, the ark, the city of refuge. Ask, and thou shalt receive faith and forgiveness together.
He waited to be gracious. He hath spared thee for this very thing, that thine eyes might see his salvation. Whatever judgments come in these latter days, yet whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord Jesus shall be delivered. Call upon him now, O sinner, and continue instant in prayer till he answer thee in peace and power. Wrestle for the blessing. Thy life, thy soul, is at stake. Cry mightily unto him, Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me. God, be merciful unto me, a sinner. Lord, help me. Help my unbelief. Save or I perish. Sprinkle my troubled heart. Wash me throughly in the fountain of Thy blood. Guide me by Thy Spirit. Sanctify me throughout, and receive me up into glory. Now to God the Father.
End of Sermon 21
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22 22 - National Sins and Miseries 22:54
Sermon 130. National Sins and Miseries. Lo, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly, but these sheep, what have they done? The chapter begins, and again the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah. Again. It had been kindled against them but a few years before, in consequence of which There had been a famine in the land three years, year after year, to Samuel 21, 1, till David inquired of the Lord, and was taught the way of appeasing it. We are not informed in what particular manner Israel had now offended God, by what particular cause his anger was kindled, but barely with the effect. He moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah, he, not God.
Beware how you impute this to the fountain of love and holiness. It was not God, but Satan, who thus moved David. So the parallel scripture expressively declares, And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel. 1 Chronicle 21, 1 Satan stood before God to accuse David in Israel, and to beg God's permission to tempt David. Standing is properly the accuser's posture. before the tribunals of men, and therefore the scripture, which uses to speak of the things of God after the manner of men, represents Satan as appearing in this posture before the tribunal of God. And David said to Joab and to the rulers of the people, Go, number Israel, from Beersheba even to Dan, and bring the number of them to me, that I may know it.
To Samuel, Twenty Three, Coen, Two. It does not clearly appear wherein the sin of thus numbering the people consisted. There is no express prohibition of it in any of the scriptures which were then exant. Yet we read, the king's word was abominable to Joab. 2 Samuel 23,6 Who was not a man of the tenderest conscience, so that he expostulated with David before he obeyed? Joab answered, Why doth my Lord require this thing? Why will he be? A cause of trespass, of punishment, or calamity, to Israel. God frequently punishes a people for the sins of their rulers, because they are generally partakers of their sins in one kind or other. And the righteous judge takes this occasion of punishing them for all their sins.
In this Joab was right, for after they were numbered, it is said, And God was displeased with this thing. Yea, David's heart smote him, and he said unto the Lord. I have sinned greatly, and that I have done. And now I beseech thee, O Lord, take away the iniquity of thy servant.
Did not the sin lie in the motive on which the thing was done? Did he not do it in the pride of his heart, probably out of a principle of vanity and ostentation, glorying not in God, but in the number of his people? In the sequel we find that even Joab was for once a true prophet. David was a cause of trespass, of punishment to Israel. His sin added to all the sins of the people filled up the measure of their iniquities. So the Lord sent a pestilence upon Israel from the morning, wherein Gad the prophet gave David his choice of war, famine, or pestilence, unto the evening of the third day. And there died of the people from Dan unto Bathsheba 70,000 men. 2 Samuel 24,15. And when David saw the angel that smote the people, who appeared in the form of the man with a drawn sword in his hand, to convince him the more fully that this plague was immediately from God, he said, Lo, I have sinned, I have done wickedly.
But these sheep, what have they done? Is there not in several respects a remarkable resemblance between the case of Israel and our own general wickedness than occasioned a general visitation? And does not the same cause now produce the same effect? We likewise have sinned, and we are punished, and perhaps these are only the beginning of sorrows. Perhaps the angel is now stretching out his hand over England to destroy it. Oh, that the Lord would at length say to him that destroyeth, It is enough. Stay now thy hand. The vice is the parent of misery, few deny. It is confirmed by the general suffrage of all ages, but we seldom bring this home to ourselves. When we speak of sin as the cause of misery, we usually mean the sin of other people, and suppose we suffer because they sin.
But need we go so far? Are not our own vices sufficient to account for all our sufferings? Let us fairly and impartially consider this. Let us examine our own hearts and lives. We all suffer, and we all have sinned. But will it not be most profitable for us to consider every one his own sins? As bringing sufferings both on himself and others, to say, Lo, I have sinned, I have done wickedly, but these sheep, what have they done? One, let us inquire first what they suffer, and afterwards what is the cause of these sufferings. That these people suffer, none can deny, that they are afflicted in a more than ordinary manner. Thousands and tens of thousands are at this day deeply afflicted through want of business.
It is true that this want is in some measure removed in some large and opulent towns, but it is also true that this is far, very far from being the general case of the kingdom. Nothing is more sure than that thousands of people in the west of England, throughout Cornwall in particular, in the north and even in the Midland counties, are totally unemployed. Hence, those who formerly wanted nothing are now in want of all things. They are so far from the plenty they once enjoyed that they are, in the most deplorable distress, deprived not only of the conveniences, but most of the necessaries of life. I have seen not a few of these wretched creatures within little more than an hundred miles of London, standing in the streets with pale looks, hollow eyes, and meager limbs.
I have known families who a few years ago lived in an easy, genteel manner, reduced to just as much raiment as they had on, and as much food as they could gather. In the field, to this one or other of them repaired once a day to pick up the turnips which the cattle had left, which they boiled, if they could get a few sticks, or otherwise ate them raw. Such is the want of food. to which many of our countrymen are at this day reduced by want of business. Grievous enough is this calamity which multitudes every day suffer, but I do not know whether many more do not labor under a still more grievous calamity. It is a great affliction to be deprived of bread, but it is still greater to be deprived of our senses.
And this is the case with thousands upon thousands of our countrymen at this day, widespread poverty. Though not in so high a degree, I have seen several years ago, but so widespread a lunacy I never saw, nor, I believe, the oldest men alive. Thousands of plain, honest people throughout the land are driven utterly out of their senses by means of the poison which is so diligently spread through every city and town in the kingdom. They are screaming out for liberty while they have it in their hands, while they actually possess it, and... to so great an extent that the like is not known in any other nation under heaven. Whether we mean civil liberty, a liberty of enjoying all our legal property, a religious liberty, a liberty of worshiping God according to the dictates of our own conscience, therefore all those who are either passionately or dolefully crying out bondage, slavery, while there is no more danger of any such thing than there is of the sky falling upon their head, are utterly distracted.
Their reason is gone. Their intellects are quite confounded. Indeed, many of these have lately recovered their senses. Yet are there multitudes still remaining, who are in this respect as perfectly mad as any of the inhabitants of Bedlam? Let not anyone think, this is but a small calamity which has fallen upon our land, if you saw, as I have seen, in every county, city, town, men, who were once of a calm, mild, friendly temper. Mad with party zeal, foaming with rage against their quiet neighbors, ready to tear out one another's throats and to plunge their swords into each other's bowels. If you had heard men who once feared God and honored the King, now breathing out the bitterest invectives against Him, and just ripe, should any occasion offer for treason and rebellion, you would not then judge this to be a little evil, a matter of small moment.
But one of the heaviest judgments which God can permit to fall upon a guilty land. Such is the condition of Englishmen at home. And is it any better abroad? I fear not. From those who are now upon the spot, I learned that in our colonies also many are causing the people to drink largely of the same deadly wine, thousands of whom are thereby inflamed more and more, till their heads are utterly turned, and they are mad to all intents and purposes. Reason is lost in rage. Its small, still voice is drowned by popular clamor. Wisdom has fallen in the streets, and where is the place of understanding? It is hardly to be found in these provinces. Here is slavery, real slavery indeed, most properly so called, for the regular, legal, constitutional form of government is no more.
Here is real, unimaginary bondage. Not the shadow of English liberty is left. Not only no liberty of the press is allowed. None dare print a page or a line unless it be exactly conformable to the sentiments of our lords, the people, but no liberty of speech. Their tongue is not their own. None must dare to utter one word either in favor of King George or in disfavor of the idol they have set up, the new illegal unconstitutional government, utterly unknown to us and to our forefathers. Here is no religious liberty. No liberty of conscience for them that honor the king, and whom, consequently, a sense of duty prompts them to defend from the vile calumnies continually vented against him. Here is no civil liberty, no enjoying the fruit of their labor, any further than the populace pleases.
A man has no security for his trade, his house, his property, unless he will swim with the stream. Nay, he has no security for his life, if his popular neighbor has a mind to cut his throat. For there is no law, and no legal magistrate to take cognizance of offenses. There is the gulf of tyranny, of arbitrary power on one hand and of anarchy on the other, and as if all this were not misery enough, see likewise the foul monster, war. But who can describe the complicated misery which is contained in this? Hark! The cannons roar. A pitchy cloud covers the face of the sky. Noise, confusion, terror, rain over all. Dying groans are on every side. The bodies of men are pierced, torn, hewn in pieces.
Their blood is poured on the earth like water. Their souls take flight into the eternal world, perhaps into everlasting misery. The ministers of grace turn away from the horrid scene. The ministers of vengeance triumph. Such already has been the face of things in that once happy land where peace and plenty, even while banished from great part of Europe, Smiled for near an hundred years. And what is it which drags on these poor victims into the field of blood? It is a great phantom which stalks before them, which they are taught to call liberty. It is this which breathes into their hearts stern love of war and thirst of vengeance and contempt of death. Real liberty, meantime, is trampled underfoot and is lost in anarchy and confusion.
But which of these warriors all the while considered the wife of his youth, that is now left a disconsolate widow, perhaps with none that careth for her, perhaps deprived of her only comfort and support, and not having where to lay her head? Who considered his helpless children, now desolate orphans? It may be crying for bread, while their mother has nothing left to give them but her sorrows and her tears, too. And yet these sheep, what have they done? Although all this has come upon them, suppose ye that they are sinners above other men, because they suffer such things. I tell you, nay, but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. It therefore behooves us to consider our sins, the cause of all our sufferings.
It behooves each of us to say, Lo, I have sinned, I have done wickedly. The time would fall, should I attempt to enumerate all the ways wherein we have sinned. But in general, This is certain. The rich, the poor, the high, the low, have wandered from his mild command. The floods of wickedness o'erflow and deluge all the guilty land. People and priests lie drowned in sin, and Tophet yawns to take them in. How innumerable are the violations of justice among us! Who does not adopt the old maxim, Si possus recte, Sinon qu'kun ke? Moda Rem. If you can get money honestly, do, but, however, get money. Where is mercy to be found? If it would stand in opposition to interest, how few will scruple for a valuable consideration to oppress the widower or fatherless?
And where shall we find truth? Deceit and fraud go not out of our streets. Who is it that speaks the truth from his heart? Whose words are the picture of his thoughts? Where is he that has put away all lying? That never speaks what he does not mean. Who is ashamed of this? Indeed, it was once said, and even by a statesman, all other vices have had their patrons. But lying is so base, so abominable a vice, that never was anyone found yet who dared openly to plead for it. Would one imagine this writer lived in a court? Yea, and that, in the present century, did not he himself then, as well as all his brothers statesmen? Plead for a trade of deliberate lying. Did he not plead for the innocence, yea, and the necessity of employing spies?
The vilest race of liars under the sun, yet whoever scrupled using them but Lord Clarendon. O truth, whither thou art fled, how few have any acquaintance with thee. Do not we continually tell lies for the nonce without gaining thereby either profit or pleasure? Is not even our common language replete with falsehood? Above a hundred years ago, the poet complained, It never was good day since lowly fawning was called compliment. What would he have said, had he lived a century later, when that art was brought to perfection? Perhaps there is one palpable evidence of this which is not usually attended to. If you blame a man in many other respects, he is not much affronted. But if you say he is a liar, he will not bear it.
He takes fire at once. Why is this? Because a man can bear to be blamed when he is conscious of his own innocence. But if you say he is a liar, you touch a sore spot. He is guilty, and therefore cannot bear it. Is there a character more despicable? than even that of a liar. Perhaps there is even that of an epicure. And are we not a generation of epicures? Is not our belly our God? Are not eating and drinking our chief delight, our highest happiness? Is it not the main study, I fear the only study, of many honorable men to enlarge the pleasure of tasting? When was luxury, not in food only, but in dress, furniture, equipage? Carried to such a height in Great Britain ever since it was a nation. We have lately extended the British Empire almost over the globe.
We have carried our laurels into Africa, into Asia, into the burning and the frozen climes of America. And what have we brought thence? All the elegance of vice which either the Eastern or Western world could afford. Luxury is constantly the parrot of sloth. Every glutton will, in due time, be a drone. The more of meat and drink he devours, the less taste will he have for labour. This degeneracy of the Britons from their temperate, active forefathers was taken notice of in the last century. But if Mr. Herbert then said, O England, full of sin, but most of sloth, what would he have said now? Observe the difference between the last and the present century, only in a single instance. In the last, the Parliament used to meet Hora Quinta Ante Meridium.
At five in the morning. Could these Britons look out of their graves? What would they think of the present generation? Permit me to touch on one article more, wherein, indeed, we excel all the nations upon earth. Not one nation under the canopy of heaven can vie with the English in profaneness. Such a total neglect, such an utter contempt of God, There's nowhere else to be found, in no other streets except in Ireland. Can you hear on every side the horrid oath, the direful curse, that latest weapon of the wretch's war, and blasphemy, sad comrade of despair? Now let each of us lay his hand upon his heart and say, Lord, is it I? Have I added to this flood of unrighteousness and ungodliness, and thereby to the misery of my countrymen?
Am not I guilty in any of the preceding respects, and do not they suffer because I have sinned? If we have any tenderness of heart, any bowels of mercies, any sympathy with the afflicted, let us pursue this thought till we are deeply sensible of our sins as one great cause of their sufferings. But now the plague has begun, and has already made such ravages both in England and America. What can we do? In order that it may be stayed, how shall we stand between the living and the dead? Is there any better way to turn aside the anger of God than that prescribed by St. James? Purge your hands, ye sinners, and purify your hearts, ye double-minded. First, purge your hands. Immediately put away the evil of your doings.
Instantly flee from sin, from every evil word and work, as from the face of a serpent. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth. No uncharitable, no unprofitable conversation. Let no guile be found in your mouth. Speak to every man the truth from your heart. Renounce every way of acting, however gainful, which is contrary either to justice or mercy. Do to every one as, in parallel circumstances, you would wish he should do unto you. Be sober, temperate, active, and at every word and work labor to have a conscience void of offense towards God. and toward man. Next, through the almighty grace of him that loved you and gave himself to you, purify your hearts by faith. Be no longer double-minded, halting between earth and heaven, striving to serve God and mammon.
Purify your hearts from pride, humbling yourselves under the mighty hand of God, from all party zeal, anger, resentment, bitterness, which now especially will easily beset you. From all prejudice, bigotry, narrowness of spirit, from impetuosity and impatience of contradiction, from love of dispute, and from every degree of an unmerciful or implacable temper. Instead of this earthly devilish wisdom, let the wisdom from above sink deep into your hearts, that wisdom which is first pure, then peaceable, easy to be entreated, convinced, persuaded, or appeased. Full of mercy and good fruits without partiality, embracing all men without hypocrisy, genuine and on feign, now, if ever putting away with all malice, all clamor, railing, and evil-speaking, be ye kind one to another.
To all your brethren and countrymen, tenderhearted, to all that are in distress, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you. And now let my counsel be acceptable to you. to every one of you present before God. Break off thy sins by repentance, and thy iniquities by showing mercy to the poor, if it may be a lengthening of thy tranquillity. Of what degree of it still remains among us? Show mercy more especially to the poor widows, to the helpless orphans, of your countrymen who are now numbered among the dead, who fell among the slain in a distant land, who knoweth but the Lord, will ye be entreated. Will calm the madness of the people, will quench the flames of contention, and breathe into all the spirit of love, unity, and concord.
Then brother shall not lift up sword against brother, neither shall they know war any more. Then shall plenty and peace flourish in our land, and all the inhabitants of it be thankful for the innumerable blessings which they enjoy, and shall fear God. and honor the King.
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23 23 - The Late Work of God in North America 28:02
The late work of God in North America.
The appearance was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel. Ezekiel, one, sixteen. Whatever may be the primary meaning of this mysterious passage of Scripture, many serious Christians in all ages have applied it in a secondary sense to the manner wherein the adorable providence of God usually works in governing the world. They have judged this expression manifestly to allude to the complicated wheels of His providence, adapting one event to another and working one thing by means of another. In the whole process of this, there is an endless variety of wheels within wheels. But they are frequently so disposed and complicated that we cannot understand them at first sight, nay, we can seldom fully comprehend them until they are explained by the event.
Perhaps no age ever afforded a more striking instance of this kind than the present does in the dispensations of divine providence with respect to our colonies in North America. In order to see this clearly, let us endeavor, according to the measure of our weak understanding, first, to trace each wheel apart, and secondly, to consider both as they relate to and answer each other. I. And first, we are to trace each wheel apart. It is by no means my design to give a particular detail of the late transactions in America, but barely to give a simple and naked deduction of a few well-known facts. I know this is a very delicate subject, and that it is difficult, if not impossible, to treat it in such a manner as not to offend any, particularly those who are warmly attached to either party.
But I would not willingly offend. And shall therefore studiously avoid all keen and reproachful language, and use the softest terms I can, without either betraying or disguising the truth. In the year 1736, it pleased God to begin a work of grace in the newly planted colony of Georgia, then the southernmost of our settlements on the continent of America. To those English who had settled there the year before were then added a body of Moravians, so-called, and a larger body who had been expelled from Germany by the Archbishop of Salzburg. These were men truly fearing God and working righteousness. At the same time there began an awakening among the English, both at Savannah and Frederica, many inquiring what they must do to be saved, and, bringing forth fruits, meat for repentance.
In the same year there broke out a wonderful work of God in several parts of New England. It began in Northampton, and in a little time appeared in the adjoining towns. A particular and beautiful account of this was published by Mr. Edwards, minister of Northampton. Many sinners were deeply convinced of sin, and many truly converted to God. I suppose there had been no instance in America of so swift and deep a work of grace for an hundred years before, nay, nor perhaps since the English settled there. The following year the work of God spread by degrees from New England towards the south. At the same time it advanced by slow degrees from Georgia towards the north. In a few souls it deepened likewise, and some of them witnessed a good confession both in life and in death.
In the year 1738, Mr. Whitefield came over to Georgia with a design to assist me in preaching either to the English or the Indians. But as I was embarked for England before he arrived, he preached to the English altogether, first in Georgia, to which his chief service was due, then in South and North Carolina, and afterwards in the intermediate provinces, till he came to New England. And all men owned that God was with him, wheresoever he went, giving a general call to high and low, rich and poor, to repent and believe the gospel. Many were not disobedient to the heavenly calling. They did repent and believe the gospel, and by his ministry a line of communication was formed quite from Georgia to New England.
Within a few years he made several more voyages to America, and took several more journeys through the provinces. And in every journey he found fresh reason to bless God, who still prospered the works of his hands, there being more and more in all the provinces, who found his word to be the power of God unto salvation. But the last journey he made he acknowledged to some of his friends that he had much sorrow and heaviness in his heart, on account of multitudes who for a time ran well, but afterwards drew back unto perdition. Indeed, in a few years, the far greater part of those who had once received the word with joy, yea, had escaped the corruption that is in this world, were entangled again and overcome.
Some were like those who received the seed on stony ground, which, in time of temptation, withered away. Others were like those who received it among thorns. The thorns soon sprang up and choked it. Insomuch that he found exceeding few who brought forth the fruit to perfection. A vast majority had entirely turned back from the holy commandment delivered to them. And what wonder! For it was a true saying which was common in the ancient church, quote, The soul and the body make a man, and the spirit and discipline make a Christian, end quote. But those who were more or less affected by Mr. Whitefield's preaching had no discipline at all. They had no shadow of discipline. Nothing of the kind. They were formed into no societies.
They had no Christian connection with each other, nor were ever taught to watch over each other's souls, so that if any fell into lukewarmness, or even into sin, he had none to lift him up. He might fall lower and lower, yea, into hell, if he would, for who regarded it? Things were in this state when, about eleven years ago, I received several letters from America giving a melancholy account of the state of the religion in most of the colonies, and earnestly entreating that some of our preachers would come over and help them. It was believed they might confirm many that were weak or wavering, and lift up many that were fallen, nay, that they would see more fruit of their labors in America than they had done either in England or Ireland.
This was considered at large in our yearly conference at Bristol in the year 1769, and two of our preachers willingly offered themselves, viz. Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmore. They were men well reported of by all, and, we believed, fully qualified for the work. Accordingly, after a few days spent in London, they cheerfully went over. They labored first in Philadelphia and New York, afterwards in many other places. And everywhere God was eminently with them, and gave them to see much fruit of their labor. What was wanting before was now supplied. Those who were desirous to save their souls were no longer a rope of sand, but claved to one another, and began to watch over each other in love.
Societies were formed, and Christian discipline introduced in all its branches. Within a few years after, several more of the preachers were willing to go and assist them, and God raised up many natives of the country who were glad to act in connection with them, till there were two and twenty traveling preachers in America who kept their circuits as regularly as those in England. The work of God then not only spread wider, particularly in North Carolina, Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and the Jerseys, but sunk abundantly deeper than ever it had done before. So that at the beginning of the late Troubles there were three thousand souls connected together in religious societies, and a great number of these witnessed that the Son of God hath power on earth to forgive sin.
But now it was that a bar appeared in the way, a grand hindrance to the progress of religion. The immense trade of America, greater in proportion than ever that of the mother country, brought in an immense flow of wealth, which was also continually increasing. Hence both merchants and tradesmen of various kinds accumulated money without end, and rose from indigence to opulent fortunes quicker than any could do in Europe. Riches poured in upon them as a flood, and treasures were heaped up as the sand of the sea. And hence naturally arose unbounded plenty of all the necessaries, conveniences, yea, and superfluities of life. One general consequence of this was pride. The more riches they acquired, the more they were regarded by their neighbors as men of weight and importance, and they would naturally see themselves in at least as fair a light as their neighbors saw them.
And accordingly, as they rose in the world, they rose in their opinion of themselves. As it is generally allowed, a thousand pounds supplies the want of twenty thousand qualities. So, the richer they grew, the more admiration they gained and the more applause they received. Wealth, then bringing in more applause, of course brought in more pride, till they really thought themselves as much wiser as they were wealthier than their neighbors. Another natural consequence of wealth was luxury. Particularly in food. We are apt to imagine nothing can exceed the luxurious living which now prevails in Great Britain and Ireland. But, alas, what is this to that which lately prevailed in Philadelphia and other parts of North America?
A merchant or Midland tradesman there kept a table equal to that of a nobleman in England, entertaining his guests with ten, twelve, yea, sometimes twenty dishes of meat at a meal. And this was so far from being blamed by any one that it was applauded as generosity and hospitality. And is not idleness naturally joined with fullness of bread? Doth not sloth easily spring from luxury? It did so here, in an eminent degree, such sloth as is scarce named in England. Persons in the bloom of youth and in perfect health could hardly bear to put on their own clothes. The slave must be called to do this, and that, and everything. It is too great labor for the master or mistress. It is a wonder that they would be at pains of putting meat into their own mouths.
Why did they not imitate the lordly lubbers in China, who are fed by a slave standing on each side? Who can wonder if sloth alone begets wantonness? Has it not always had this effect? Was it not said near two thousand years ago? Queriter, agistis quare sit factus adulter, impromptu causa est, decidiosus errat. The following is Tate's translation of this quotation from Ovid. The adulterous lust that did adjust the seas, and brought on murder, sprang from wanton ease.
And when sloth and luxury are joined together, will they not produce an abundant offspring? This they certainly have done in these parts. I was surprised a few years ago at a letter I received from Philadelphia, wherein were nearly these words. You think the women in England, many of them I mean, do not abound in chastity? And yet the generality of your women, if compared with ours, might almost pass for Vestal virgins."
Now this complication of pride, luxury, sloth, and wantonness, naturally arising from vast wealth and plenty, was the grand hindrance to the spreading of true religion through the cities of North America. Two. Let us now see the other wheel of divine providence. It may reasonably be supposed that the colonies in New England had, from their very beginning, an hankering after independency. It could not be expected to be otherwise, considering their families, their education, their relations, and the connections they had formed before they left their native country. They were farther inclined to it by the severe and unjust treatment which many of them had met with in England. This might well create in them a fear, lest they should meet with the like again, a jealousy of their governors, and a desire of shaking off that dependence to which they were never thoroughly reconciled.
The same spirit they communicated to their children from whom it descended to the present generation. Nor could it be effaced by all the favors and benefits which they continually received from the English government. This spirit generally prevailed, especially in Boston, as early as the year 1737. In that year, my brother, being detained there some time, was greatly surprised to hear almost in every company, whether of ministers, gentlemen, merchants, or common people, where anything of the kind was mentioned, Quote, We must be independent. We will be independent. We will bear the English yoke no longer. We will be our own governors. End quote. This appeared to be even then the general desire of the people, although it is not probable that there was at that time any form to design.
No, they could not be so vain as to think they were able to stand alone against the power of Great Britain. A gentleman who was there in the following year observed the same spirit in every corner of the town. Why should these English blockheads rule over us, was then the common language. And as one encouraged another herein, the spirit of independence rose higher and higher, till it began to spread into the other colonies bordering upon New England. Nevertheless, the fear of their troublesome neighbors, then in possession of Canada, kept them within bounds, and for a time prevented the flame from breaking out. But when the English had removed that fear from them, when Canada was ceded to the King of Great Britain, the desire then ripened into a formed design only a convenient opportunity was wanting.
It was not long before that opportunity appeared. The Stamp Act was passed and sent over to America. The malcontents saw and pressed their advantage, they represented it as a common cause, and by proper emissaries spread their own spirit through another and another colony. By inflammatory papers of every kind, they stirred up the minds of the people. They vilified first the English Ministry, representing them, one and all, as the veriest wretches alive, void of all honesty, honor, and humanity. By the same methods, they inflamed the people in general against the British Parliament, representing them as the most infamous villains upon earth, as a company of base, unprincipled hirelings. But still they affected to reverence the King, and spoke very honorably of him.
Not long, a few months after, they treated him in the same manner they had done his ministers and his parliament. Matters being now, it was judged in sufficient forwardness, an association was formed between the northern and southern colonies, both took up arms, and constituted a supreme power which they termed the Congress. But still, they affirmed their whole design was to secure their liberty, and even to insinuate that they aimed at anything more was said to be quite cruel and unjust. But in a little time they threw off the mask and boldly asserted their own independency. Accordingly, Dr. Witherspoon, President of the College in New Jersey, in his address to the Congress, added to a fast sermon published by him, August Third, Seventeen Seventy Six, uses the following words, It appears now, in the clearest manner, that till very lately those who seemed to take the part of America in the British Parliament never did it on American principles.
They either did not understand, or were not willing to admit, the extent of our claim. Even the great Lord Chatham's bill for reconciliation would not have been accepted here, and did not materially differ from what the Ministry would have consented to." Here it is avowed that their claim was independency, and that they would accept nothing less. By this open and avowed defection from, and defiance of, their mother country, whether it was defensible or not is another question, at least nine parts in ten of their immense trade to Europe, Asia, Africa, and other parts of America were cut off at one stroke. In lieu of this, they gained at first perhaps an hundred thousand pounds a year by their numerous privateers.
But even then this was, upon the whole, no gain at all, for they lost as many ships as they took. Afterwards they took fewer and fewer, and in the meantime they lost four or five millions yearly, perhaps six or seven, which their trade brought them in. What was the necessary consequence of this? Why, that as the fountain of their wealth was dammed up, the streams of it must run lower and lower till they were wholly exhausted, so that at present these provinces are no richer than the poorest parts either of Scotland or Ireland. Plenty declined in the same proposition as wealth till universal scarcity took place. In a short time there was everywhere felt a deep want, not only of the superfluities, not only of the common conveniences, but even of the necessaries of life.
Wholesome food was not to be procured, but at a very advanced price. Decent apparel was not to be had, not even in the large towns. Not only velvets and silks and fashionable ornaments, which might well be spared, but even linen and woollen clothes were not to be purchased at any price whatsoever. Thus we have observed each of these wheels apart. On the one hand, trade, wealth, pride, luxury, sloth, and wantonness spreading far and wide through the American provinces, on the other, the spirit of independency diffusing itself from north to south. Let us now observe how each of these wheels relates to and answers the other, how the wise and gracious providence of God uses one to check the course of the other, and even employs, if so strong an expression may be allowed, Satan to cast out Satan.
Probably that subtle spirit hoped, by adding to all those other vices, the spirit of independency, to have overturned the whole work of God as well as the British government in North America. But he that sitteth in heaven laughed him to scorn, and took the wise in his own craftiness. By means of this very spirit there is reason to believe God will overturn every hindrance of that work. We have seen how by the breaking out of this spirit, in open defiance of the British government, an effectual check was given to the trade of those colonies. They themselves, by a wonderful stroke of policy, threw up the whole trade of their mother country and all its dependencies, made an act that no British ship could enter into any of their harbors, nay, they fitted out numberless privateers which seized upon all the British ships they could find.
The king's ships seized an equal number of theirs. So their foreign trade, too, was brought almost to nothing. Their riches died away with their trade, especially as they had no internal resources. The flower of their youth, before employed in husbandry, being now drawn off into their armies, so that the most fruitful lands were of no use, none being left to till the ground. And when wealth fled away, as was before observed, so did plenty, too, abundance of all things being succeeded by scarcity of all things. The wheel now began to move within the wheel. The trade and wealth of the Americas failing, the grand incentives of pride failed, too, for few admire or flatter the poor. And, being deserted by most of their admirers, they did not altogether so much admire themselves, especially when they found, upon the trial, that they had grievously miscalculated their own strength, which they had made no doubt would be sufficient to carry all before it.
It is true, many of them still exalted themselves, but others were truly and deeply humbled. Poverty and scarcity consequent upon it struck still more directly at the root of their luxury. There was no place now for their immoderate superfluity either of food or apparel. They sought no more, and could seldom obtain so much as plain food sufficient to sustain nature. And they were content if they could procure coarse apparel to keep them clean and warm. Thus they were reduced to the same condition their forefathers were in when the providence of God brought them into this country. They were nearly in the same outward circumstances, happy if they were likewise in the same spirit. Poverty and want struck at the root of sloth also.
It was now no time to say, a little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to rest. If a man would not work now, it was plain he could not eat. All the pains he could take were little enough to procure the bare necessities of life. Seeing, on the one hand, so few of them remained, their own armies having swept away all before them, and on the other, what remained bore so high a price that exceeding few were able to purchase them. Thus, by the adorable providence of God, the main hindrances of his work are removed, and in how wonderful a manner, such as it never could have entered into the heart of man to conceive. Those hindrances had been growing up and continually increasing for many years.
What God foresaw would prove the remedy grew up with the disease, and when the disease was come to its height, then only began to operate. Immense trade, wealth, and plenty begot and nourished proportionable pride and luxury and sloth and wantonness. Meantime, the same trade, wealth, and plenty begot or nourished the spirit of independency. Who would have imagined that this evil disease would lay a foundation for the cure of all the rest? And yet so it was. For this spirit, now come to maturity, and is deigning all restraint, is now swiftly destroying the trade, the wealth, and plenty whereby it was nourished, and thereby makes way for the happy return of humility, temperance, industry, and chastity.
Such unspeakable good does the all-wise God bring out of all this evil. So does the fierceness of man of the Americans turn to his praise, in a very different sense from what Dr. Witherspoon supposed. May we not observe how exactly, in this grand scheme of providence, one wheel answers to the other? The spirit of independency, which our poet so justly terms the glorious fault of angels and of gods, that is, in plain terms, of devils, the same which many call liberty, is overruled by the justice and mercy of God, first to punish those crying sins, and afterwards to heal them. He punishes them by poverty, coming as an armed man, and overrunning the land, by such scarcity as has hardly been known there for an hundred years past, by want of every kind, even of necessary clothing, even of bread to eat.
But with what intent does he do this? Surely that mercy may rejoice over judgment. He punishes that he may amend, that he may first make them sensible of their sins, which any one that has eyes to see may read in their punishment, and then bring them back to the spirit of their forefathers, the spirit of humility, temperance, industry, chastity, yea, and a general willingness to hear and receive the word which is able to save their souls. Oh, the depth both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past finding out, unless so far as they are revealed in his word and explained by his providence. From these we learn that the spiritual blessings are what God principally intends in all these severe dispensations.
He intends that they should all work together for the destruction of Satan's kingdom, and the promotion of the kingdom of his dear son, that they should all minister to the general spread of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. But after the inhabitants of these provinces are brought again to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, there can be no doubt but all other things, all temporal blessings, will be added unto them. He will send through all the happy land, with all the necessaries and conveniences of life, not in dependency, which would be no blessing, but an heavy curse, both to them and their children, but liberty, real legal liberty, which is an unspeakable blessing.
He will superadd to Christian liberty liberty from sin, true civil liberty, a liberty from oppression of every kind, from illegal violence, a liberty to enjoy their lives, their persons, and their property. In a word, a liberty to be governed in all things by the laws of their country. They will again enjoy true British liberty, such as they enjoyed before these commotions, neither less nor more than they have enjoyed from their first settlement in America, neither less nor more than is now enjoyed by the inhabitants of their mother country. If their mother country had ever designed to deprive them of this, she might have done it long ago, and that this was never done is a demonstration that it was never intended.
But God permitted this strange dread of imaginary evils to spread over all the people, that he might have mercy upon all,
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24 24 - On Laying the Foundation of the New Chapel, Near the City-Road, London 32:00
On laying the foundation of the new chapel near the City Road, London. Preached on Monday, April 21st, 1777. According to this time it shall be said, What hath God wrought? Numbers 23, 23. We need not now inquire in what sense this was applicable to the children of Israel. It may be of more use to consider in what sense The words are applicable to ourselves. How far the people of England have reason to say, According to this time, what hath God wrought? A great man, indeed, who I trust is now in a better world, Dr. Gibson, late Lord Bishop of London, in one of his charges to his clergy, flatly denies that God has wrought any extraordinary work in our nation. Nay, affirms that to imagine any such thing is no better than downright enthusiasm.
It is so, if his lordship's supposition is true, if God has not wrought any extraordinary work. But if he really has, then we may believe and assert it without incurring any such imputation. Yet a still greater man of a neighboring nation, a burning and a shining light, Equally eminent in piety and in learning, partly confirmed the bishop's supposition. For Benjelius, being asked why he placed the grand revival of religion so late as the year, 1836, replied, I acknowledge all the prophecies would incline me to place it a century sooner, but an insurmountable difficulty lies in the way. I cannot reconcile this matter of fact. For I do not know of any remarkable work of God which has been wrought upon the earth between the years 1730 and 1740.
This is really surprising. It is strange that sensible men should know so little of what is done at so small a distance. How could so great a man be ignorant of what was transacted no farther off than England? Especially considering the accounts then published in Germany, some of which were tolerably impartial. Nay, considering the particular account which I had sent, as early as the year 1742, to one well known through all the empire, pastor, afterwards superintendent, Steinmetz. But has there indeed been any extraordinary work of God wrought in England during this century? This is an important question. It is certainly worthy of our serious consideration, and it is capable of being answered to the full satisfaction of every fair enquirer.
He may easily be informed what work it is, and in what manner it has been wrought. It is true I am in one respect an improper person to give this information, as it will oblige me frequently to speak of myself, which may have the appearance of ostentation. But with regard to this, I can only cast myself upon the candor of my hearers. Being persuaded, they will put the most favorable construction upon what is not a matter of choice, but of necessity. For there is no other person, if I decline the task, who can supply my place, who has a perfect knowledge of the work in question, from the beginning of it to this day. We may consider first the rise and progress of this work, Secondly, the nature of it.
I. As to the rise of it, in the year 1725, a young student at Oxford was much affected by reading Kempis's Christian Pattern, and Bishop Taylor's Rules of Holy Living and Dying. He found an earnest desire to live according to those rules, and to flee from the wrath to come. He sought for some that would be his companions in the way, but he could find none. So that for several years he was constrained to travel alone, having no man either to guide or to help him. But in the year, seventeen twenty nine, he found one who had the same desire. They then endeavored to help each other, and in the close of the year were joined by two more. They soon agreed to spend two or three hours together every Sunday evening.
Afterwards they sat two evenings together, and in a while six evenings in the week, spending that time in reading the scriptures and provoking one another to love and to good works. The regularity of their behavior gave occasion to a young gentleman of the college to say, I think we have got a new set of Methodists, alluding to a set of physicians who began to flourish at Rome about the time of Nero, and continued for several ages. The name was new and quaint. It claved to them immediately, and from that time both these four young gentlemen and all that had any religious connection with them were distinguished by the name Methodists. In the four or five years following, another and another were added to the number, till in the year 1735 there were 14 of them who constantly met together.
Three of these were tutors in their several colleges. The rest, Bachelors of Arts or Undergraduates. They were all precisely of one judgment, as well as of one soul, all tenacious of order to the last degree, and observant for conscience sake of every rule of the Church, and every statute both of the University and of their respective colleges. They were all Orthodox in every point. Firmly believing not only the three creeds, but whatsoever they judged to be the doctrine of the Church of England, as contained in the Articles and Homilies. As to that practice of the Apostolic Church, which continued till the time of Tertullian, at least in many churches, and having all things in common, they had no rule, nor any form design concerning it.
But it was so in effect, and it could not be otherwise, For none could want anything that another could spare. This was the infancy of the work. They had no conception of anything that would follow. Indeed, they took no thought for the morrow, desiring only to live to-day. Many imagined that little society would be dispersed, and Methodism, so called, come to an end when, in October, 1735, my brother, Mr. Ingham, and I were induced by a strange chain of providences, to go over to the new colony in Georgia. Our design was to preach to the Indian nations bordering upon that province, but we were detained at Savannah and Frederica by the importunity of the people who, having no other ministers, earnestly requested that we would not leave them.
After a time, I desired the most serious of them to meet me once or twice a week at my house. Here were the rudiments of a Methodist society. But notwithstanding this, both my brother and I were as vehemently attached to the church as ever, and to every rubric of it, insomuch that I would never admit a dissenter to the Lord's Supper, unless he would be rebaptized. Nay, when the Lutheran minister of the Salzburgers at Ebenezer, being at Savannah, desired to receive it, I told him I did not dare administer it to him, because I looked upon him as unbaptized, As I judged baptism by Lehman to be invalid, and such I counted all that were not episcopally ordained. Full of these sentiments, of the zeal for the church, from which, I bless God, he has now delivered me, I returned to England in the beginning of February, 1738.
I was now in haste to retire to Oxford, and bury myself in my beloved obscurity. But I was detained in London, week after week, by the trustees for the colony of Georgia. In the meantime, I was continually importuned to preach in one and another church, and that not only morning, afternoon, and night, on Sunday, but on weekdays also. As I was lately come from a far country, vast multitudes flocked together. But in a short time, partly because of those unwieldy crowds, partly because of my unfashionable doctrine, I was excluded from one and another church, and at length shut out of all. Not daring to be silent, after a short struggle between honor and conscience, I made a virtue of necessity, and preached in the middle of the moor-fields.
Here were thousands upon thousands, abundantly more than any church could contain, and numbers among them, who never went to any church or place of public worship at all, More and more of them were cut to the heart, and came to me all in tears, inquiring with the utmost eagerness what they must do to be saved. I said, If all of you will meet on Thursday evening, I will advise you as well as I can. The first evening about twelve persons came, the next week thirty or forty. When they were increased to about an hundred, I took down their names and places of abode, intending as often as it was convenient to call upon them at their own houses. Thus, without any previous plan or design, began the Methodist Society in England, a company of people associating together to help each other to work out their own salvation.
The next spring we were invited to Bristol and Kingswood, where, likewise, societies were quickly formed. The year following we went to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and preached to all the colliers and keelmen round it. In 1744 we went through Cornwall, as far as Sennon, near the Land's End, and in the compass of two or three years more to almost every part of England. Some time after we were desired to go over to Ireland, and in process of time to every county therein. Last of all, we were invited to Musselburgh, Glasgow, and several other parts of Scotland. But it was in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee, Arbroath, and Aberdeen that we saw the greatest fruit of our labor.
Such was the rise, and such has been the progress of Methodism, from the beginning to the present time. But you will naturally ask, What is Methodism? What does this new word mean? Is it not a new religion? This is a very common, nay, almost an universal supposition, but nothing can be more remote from the truth. It is a mistake all over. Methodism, so called, is the old religion, the religion of the Bible, the religion of the primitive Church, the religion of the Church of England. This old religion, as I observed in the earnest appeal to men of reason and religion, is no other than love, the love of God and of all mankind, the loving God with all our heart and soul and strength, as having first loved us, as the fountain of all the good we have received and of all we ever hoped to enjoy, and the loving every soul which God hath made, every man on earth as our own soul.
This love is the great medicine of life, The never-failing remedy for all the evils of a disordered world, for all the miseries and vices of men. Wherever this is, there are virtue and happiness going hand in hand. There is humbleness of mind, gentleness, long-suffering, the whole image of God. And at the same time, a peace that passeth all understanding, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. This religion of love and joy and peace has its seat in the inmost soul, but is ever showing itself by its fruits, continually springing up not only in all innocence, for love worketh no ill to his neighbor, but likewise in every kind of beneficence, spreading virtue and happiness all around it. This is the religion of the Bible.
No one can deny who reads it with any attention. It is the religion which is continually inculcated therein, which runs through both the Old and New Testament. Moses and the prophets, our blessed Lord and his apostles, proclaim with one voice, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, and thy neighbor as thyself. The Bible declares, Love is the fulfilling of the law, the end of the commandment. Of all the commandments which are contained in the oracles of God, the inward and outward fruits of this love are also largely described by the inspired writers, so that whoever allows the scripture to be the word of God must allow this to be true religion. This is the religion of the primitive church, of the whole church in the purest ages.
It is clearly expressed even in the small remains of Clemens Romanus, Ignatius and Polycarp. It is seen more at large in the writings of Tertullian, Origen, Clemens, Alexandrinus, and Cyprian, and even in the fourth century. It was found in the works of Chrysostom, Basil, Ephraim, Cyrus, and Macarius. It would be easy to produce a cloud of witnesses, Testifying the same thing, were not this a point which no one will contest who has the least acquaintance with Christian antiquity. And this is the religion of the Church of England, as appears from all her authentic records, from the uniform tenor of her liturgy, and from numberless passages in her homilies, the scriptural primitive religion of love, which is...
Now reviving throughout the Three Kingdoms, is to be found in her morning and evening service, and in her daily as well as occasional prayers, and the whole of it is beautifully summed up in that one comprehensive petition. Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love Thee, and worthily magnify Thy holy name. Permit me to give a fuller account both of the progress and nature of this religion by an extract from a treatise which was published many years ago.
Just at the time when we wanted little of filling up the measure of our iniquities, two or three clergymen of the Church of England began vehemently to call sinners to repentance. Many thousands gathered together to hear them, and in every place where they came Many began to show such concern for religion as they never had done before. Many were in short time deeply convinced of the number and heinousness of their sins, of their evil tempers, of their inability to help themselves, and of the insignificancy of their outside religion. And from this repentance sprung fruits meet for repentance. The whole form of their life was changed. They ceased to do evil, and learned to do well. Neither was this all, but over and above this outward change they began to experience inward religion.
The love of God was shed abroad in their hearts, which they enjoy to this day. They love Him because He first loved us, and this love constrains them to love all mankind, and inspires them with every holy and heavenly temper, with the mind which was in Christ. Hence it is that they are now uniform in their behavior, unblameable in all manner of conversation, and in whatsoever state they are, they have learned therewith to be content. Thus they calmly travel on through life, never repining or murmuring or dissatisfied, till the hour comes that they shall drop this covering of earth and return to the Father of Spirits. This revival of religion has spread to such a degree as neither we nor our fathers had known.
How extensive has it been! There is scarce a considerable town in the kingdom where some have not been made witness of it. It has spread to every age and sex, to most orders and degrees of men, and even to abundance of those who in times past were counted monsters of wickedness. Consider the swiftness, as well as extent, of it. And what age has such a number of sinners been recovered in so short a time from the error of their ways? When has true religion? I will not say since the Reformation, but since the time of Constantine, the Great, made so large a progress in any nation, within so small a space. I believe hardly can either ancient or modern history afford a parallel instance. We may likewise observe the depth of the work so extensively and swiftly wrought.
Multitudes have been thoroughly convinced of sin, and shortly after so filled with joy and love that whether they were in the body or out of the body they could hardly tell. And in the power of this love they have trampled underfoot whatever the world accounts either terrible or desirable, having evidenced in the severest trials An invariable and tender good-will to mankind, and all the fruits of holiness. Now so deep a repentance, so strong a faith, so fervent love, and so unblemished holiness, wrought in so many persons in so short a time, the world has not seen for many ages. No less remarkable is the purity of the religion, which has extended itself so deeply and swiftly. I speak particularly as to the doctrines held by those who are the subjects of it.
Those of the Church of England, at least, must acknowledge this. For where is there a body of people, who number for number, so closely adhere to the doctrines of the Church? Nor is their religion more pure from heresy than it is from superstition. In former times, whenever any unusual religious concern has appeared, there has sprung up with it a zeal for things that were no part of religion. But it has not been so in the present case. No stress has been laid on anything, as though it were necessary to salvation, but what is plainly contained in the Word of God. And of the things contained therein, the stress laid on each has been in proportion to the nearness of its relation to what is there laid down as the sum of all—the love of God and our neighbor.
So pure, both from superstition and error, is the religion which has lately spread in this nation. It is likewise rational. It is as pure from enthusiasm as from superstition. It is true the contrary has been continually affirmed, but to affirm is one thing, to prove is another. Who will prove that it is enthusiasm to love God, yea, to love Him with all our heart? Who is able to make good this charge against the love of all mankind? I do but just touch on the general heads. But if you cannot make it good, own this religion to be sober, manly, rational, divine. It is also pure from bigotry. Those who hold it are not bigoted to opinions. They would hold right opinions, but they are peculiarly cautious not to wrest the weight of Christianity there.
They have no such overgrown fondness for any opinions as to think those alone will make them Christians, or to confine their affection or esteem to those that agree with them therein. Nor are they bigoted to any particular branch, even of practical religion. They are not attached to one point more than another. They aim at uniform, universal obedience. They contend for nothing circumstantial, as if it were essential to religion, but for everything in its own order. They dread that bitter zeal, that spirit of persecution. which has so often accompanied the spirit of reformation. They do not approve of using any kind of violence on any pretence in matters of religion. They allow no method of bringing any to knowledge of the truth except the methods of reason and persuasion, and their practice is consistent with their profession.
They do not, in fact, hinder their dependence from worshipping God in every respect according to their own conscience. But if these things are so, May we not well say, What hath God wrought? For such a work, if we consider the extensiveness of it, the swiftness with which it has spread, the depth of the religion so swiftly diffused, and its purity from all corrupt mixtures, we must acknowledge cannot easily be paralleled, in all these concurrent circumstances, by anything that is found in the English annals since Christianity was first planted in this island. It may throw considerable light upon the nature of this work, to mention one circumstance more, attending the present revival of religion, which I apprehend is quite peculiar to it.
I do not remember to have either seen, heard, or read of anything parallel. It cannot be denied that there have been several considerable revivals of religion in England since the Reformation, but the generality of the English nation Were little profited thereby, because they that were the subjects of those revivals, preachers as well as people, soon separated from the established church, and formed themselves into a distinct sect. So did the Presbyterians first, afterwards the Independents, the Anabaptists, and the Quakers, and after this was done they did scarce any good except to their own little body. And they chose to separate from the church, so the people remaining therein separated from them, and generally contracted a prejudice against them.
But these were immensely the greatest number, so that by that unhappy separation, the hope of a general national reformation was totally cut off. But it is not so in the present revival of religion. The Methodists, so termed, know their calling. They weighed the matter at first, and upon mature deliberation, determined to continue in the Church. Since that time, they have not wanted temptations of every kind to alter their resolution. They have heard abundance said upon the subject, perhaps all that can be said. They have read the writings of the most eminent pleaders for separation, both in the last and present century. They have spent several days in a general conference upon this very question.
Is it expedient, supposing not granting that it is lawful, to separate from the established church? But still they could see no sufficient cause to depart from their first resolution. So that their fixed purpose is, let the clergy or laity use them well or ill, by the grace of God, to endure all things, to hold on their even course, and to continue the church, maugre men or devils, Near twenty years ago, immediately after their solemn consultation on the subject, a clergyman who had heard the whole said with great earnestness, In the name of God, let nothing move you to recede from this resolution. God is with you of a truth, and so He will be while you continue in the church. But whenever the Methodists leave the church, God will leave them.
Lord, what is man? In a few months after Mr. Ingham himself left the church, and turned all the societies under his care into congregations of independence, and what was the event? The same that he foretold. They swiftly moldered into nothing. Some years after, a person of honor told me, This is the peculiar glory of the Methodists. However convenient it might be, they will not, on any account or pretense, Whatever, form a distinct sect or party. Let no one rob you of this glorying. I trust no one will, as long as I live. But the giver of this advice entirely forgot it in a very short time, and has, almost ever since, been laboring to form independent congregations. This has occasioned many to ask, Why do you say the Methodists form no distinct party, that they do not leave the Church?
Are there not thousands of Methodists who have, in fact, left the Church, who never attend the Church service, never receive the Lord's Supper there? Nay, who speak against the Church even with bitterness, both in public and private? Yea, who appoint and frequent meetings for divine service at the same hour? How, then, can you affirm that the Methodists do not leave the Church? I am glad of so public an opportunity of explaining this, in order to which it will be necessary to look back some years. The Methodists at Oxford were all one body, and as it were, one soul, zealous for the religion of the Bible, of the primitive Church, and in consequence of the Church of England, as they believed it to come nearer the scriptural and primitive plan than any other national church upon earth.
When my brother and I returned from Georgia, we were in the same sentiments, and at the same time we and our friends were the only persons to whom that innocent name was affixed. Thus far, therefore, all the Methodists were firm to the Church of England. But a good man who met with us when we were at Oxford, while he was absent from us, conversed much with dissenters, and contracted strong prejudices against the Church, I mean Mr. Whitefield. And not long after, he totally separated from us. In some years, William Cudworth and several others separated from him, and turned into pendants, as did Mr. Maxfield, and a few more, after separating from us. Lastly, a school was set up near Trevecca in Wales, and almost all who were educated there, except those who were ordained, and some of them too, as they disclaimed all connection with the Methodists, so they disclaimed the church also.
Nay, they spoke of it upon all occasions with exquisite bitterness and contempt. Now let every impartial person judge whether we are accountable for any of these. None of these have any manner of connection with the original Methodists. They are branches broken off from the tree. If they break from the church also, we are not accountable for it. These, therefore, cannot make our glorying void, that we do not, will not form any separate sect, but from principle remain what we always have been, true members of the Church of England. Brethren, I presume the greater part of you also are members of the Church of England. So at least you are called, but you are not so, indeed, unless you are witnesses of the religion above described.
And are you really such? Judge not one another, but every man look into his own bosom. How stands the matter in your own breast? Examine your conscience before God. Are you an happy partaker of this scriptural, this truly primitive religion? Are you a witness of the religion of love? Are you a lover of God and all mankind? Does your heart glow with gratitude to the giver of every good and perfect gift, the Father of the Spirit flesh, who giveth you life and breath and all things, who hath given you his Son, his only Son, that you might not perish but have everlasting life? Is your soul warm with benevolence to all mankind? Do you long to have all men virtuous and happy? And does the constant tenor of your life and conversation bear witness of this?
Do you love not in word only, but in deed and in truth? Do you persevere in the work of faith and the labor of love? Do you walk in love as Christ also loved us, and gave himself for us? Do you, as you have time, do good unto all men, and in as high a degree as you are able? Whosoever thus doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother. Whosoever thou art, whose heart is herein as my heart, give me thine hand. Come, and let us magnify the Lord together, and labor to promote his kingdom upon earth. Let us join hearts and hands in this blessed work, in striving to bring glory to God in the highest, by establishing peace and goodwill among men, to the uttermost of our power.
First, let our hearts be joined herein. Let us unite our wishes and prayers. Let our whole soul pant after a general revival of pure religion and undefiled, the restoration of the image of God, pure love in every child of man. Then let us endeavor to promote in our several stations this scriptural primitive religion. Let us with all diligence diffuse the religion of love among all we have any intercourse with. Let us provoke all men, not to enmity and contention, but to love and good works. Always remembering those deep words, God engraved them on all our hearts. God is love, and he that dwelleth in love Dwelleth in God, and God in him.
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25 25 - Preached on Occasion of the Death of the Rev. Mr. John Fletcher 53:44
Preached on the occasion of the death of the Rev. Mr. John Fletcher, Vicar of Matalee, Shropshire.
Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace. Psalm 37, 37. In the preceding verses, taken together with this, there is a beautiful contrast between the death of a wicked and that of a good man. I myself, says the psalmist, have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a green bay-tree. I went by, and lo, he was gone. I sought him, but his place could nowhere be found. Dost thou desire to be found happy both in life and in death? Then keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right, for that shall bring a man peace at the last. The words are rendered in the new translation with far more force and elegance. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace.
It is not improbable that David, while he uttered these words, had a particular instance before his eyes. Such an instance was that of the great and good man whom God has not long ago taken to himself. In discoursing on these words, I purpose first briefly to inquire who is the person that is here spoken of, the perfect, the upright man. I will endeavor, secondly, to explain the promise that shall bring a man peace at the last, or, as it is expressed in the other version, the end of that man is peace. I will then, with the divine assistance, Show a little more at large in how glorious a manner it was fulfilled in the end of that perfect and upright man who has been lately removed from us. I. I am first briefly to inquire who is the person that is here spoken of, the upright and perfect man.
In speaking on this head, I shall not endeavor to describe the character of an upright Jew, such as David himself was, or any of those holy men that lived under the Mosaic Dispensation. It more nearly imports us to consider such an upright man as are those that live under the Christian Dispensation, such as have lived and died since life and immortality have been brought to light by the Gospel. In this sense, he is a perfect and upright man who believes in the name of the Son of God. He is one in whom it has pleased the Father to reveal the Son of his love, and who consequently is able to declare, The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
He is the one that finds the Spirit of God witnessing with his spirit that he is a child of God, and unto whom Christ is made of God, wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption. This faith will undoubtedly work by love. Accordingly, every Christian believer has the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto him. And loving God, he loves his brother also. His good will extends to every child of man. By this, as well as by the fruits of love, lowliness, meekness, and resignation, He shows that there is the same mind in him which was in Christ Jesus. As to his outward behavior, the upright Christian believer is blameless and unreprovable. He is holy, as Christ that has called him is holy, in all manner of conversation, in laboring to have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward man.
He not only avoids all outward sin, but abstains from all appearance of evil. He steadily walks in all the public and private ordinances of the Lord blameless. He is zealous of good works, as he hath time, doing good in every kind and degree, to all men. And in the whole course of his life he pursues one invariable rule, whether he eats or drinks, or whatever he does, to do all to the glory of God. Two. And surely the end of this man is peace, the meaning of which words we are now in the second place to consider. I do not conceive this immediately to refer to that glorious peace which is prepared for him in the presence of God to all eternity, but rather to that which he will enjoy in the present world, before his spirit returns to God that gave it.
Neither does it seem directly to refer to outward peace, Or deliverance from outward trouble, although it is true many good men, who have been long buffeted by adversity, and troubled on every side, have experienced an entire deliverance from it, and enjoyed a remarkable calm before they went hence. But this seems chiefly to refer to inward peace, even that peace of God which passeth all understanding. Therefore, it is no wonder that it cannot be fully and adequately expressed in human language. We can only say it is an unspeakable calmness and serenity of spirit, a tranquility in the blood of Christ, which keeps the souls of believers in their latest hour even as a garrison keeps a city, which keeps not only their hearts, all their passions and affections, But also their minds, all the motions of their understanding and imagination, and all the workings of their reason in Christ Jesus.
This peace they experienced in a higher or lower degree. Suppose they continued in the faith, from the time they first found redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins. But when they have nearly finished their course, It generally flows as a river, even in such a degree as it had not before entered into the hearts to conceive. A remarkable instance of this, out of a thousand, occurred many years ago. Enoch Williams, one of the first of our preachers, that was stationed at Cork, who had received this piece when he was eleven years old, and never lost it for an hour, after he had rejoiced in God with joy unspeakable during the whole course of his illness, Was too much exhausted to speak many words, but just said, Peace, Peace, and he died.
Three. So was the scripture fulfilled. But it was far more gloriously fulfilled in that late eminent servant of God, as will clearly appear if we consider a few circumstances. First, of his life, and secondly, of his triumphant death.
Indeed, we have as yet but a very imperfect knowledge of his life. We know little more of his early years than that he was from his infancy so remarkably regardless of food that he would scarce take enough to sustain life, and that he had always much of the fear of God, and a real sense of religion. He was born September 12th, in the year 1729, at Nyon in Switzerland. of a very reputable family. He went through the usual course of academical studies in the University of Geneva. One of his uncles, who was at that time a general officer in the imperial service, then invited him into the same service, promising to procure him a commission. But just as he came into Germany, the war was at an end.
Being so far on his way, he was then invited into Holland by another uncle, who had a little before been desired by a correspondent in England to procure a tutor for a gentleman's sons. He asked Mr. Fletcher whether he was willing to go into England and undertake this office. He consented, and accordingly went over to England, and undertook the care of Mr. Hill's two sons, at Tern in Shropshire. And he continued in that office till the young gentleman went to the university. When Mr. Hill went up to London to attend the Parliament, he took his lady and Mr. Fletcher with him. While they were dining at St. Albans, he walked out into the town, but did not return till the coach was set out for London.
However, a saddle-horse being left, he came after and overtook them on the same evening. Mrs. Hill, asking him why he stayed behind, he said, "'I was walking through the marketplace.' And I heard a poor old woman talk so sweetly of Jesus Christ that I knew not how the time passed away. "'I will be hanged,' said Mrs. Hill, "'if our tutor does not turn Methodist by and by.' "'Methodist, madam,' said he. "'Pray, what is that?' She replied, "'Why, the Methodists are a people that do nothing but pray.' They are praying all day and all night. Are they? said he. Then, with the help of God, I will find them out if they be above ground. He did not long after find them out, and had his desire being admitted into the society.
While he was in town, he met in Mr. Richard Edwards' class, and lost no opportunity of meeting. And he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards to the day of his death. It was not long before he was pressed in spirit to call sinners to repentance. Seeing the world all around him lying in wickedness, he found an earnest desire to pluck poor brands out of the fire, to snatch them from the verge of hell. And though he was yet far from being perfect in the English tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation of it, Yet the earnestness with which he spake seldom to be seen in England, and the unspeakably tender affection to poor lost sinners, which breathed in every word and gesture, made so deep an impression on all that heard that very few went empty away.
About the year, 1753, being now of a sufficient age, he was ordained deacon and priest. and soon after presented to the little living at Mattelie in Shropshire. This, he had frequently said, was the only living which he ever desired to have. He was ordained at Whitehall, and the same day, being informed that I had no one to assist me at West Street Chapel, he came away as soon as ever the ordination was over, and assisted me in the administration of the Lord's Supper. And he was now doubly diligent in preaching, Not only in the chapels of West Street and Spitifields, but wherever the providence of God opened a door to proclaim the everlasting gospel. This he did frequently in French, as well as in English, of which all judges allowed him to be a complete master.
Hence he removed into Vicarage House at Mataly, where he was fully employed among his parishioners, both in the town of Mataly Wood, a mile or two from it, A place much resembling Kingswood, almost wholly inhabited by poor colliers, and their numerous families. These forlorn ones, little wiser than the beasts that perish, he took great pains to reform and instruct, and they are now as judicious and as well-behaved a people as most of their station in the Three Kingdoms. But after some time he was prevailed upon by the Countess of Huntingdon, to leave his beloved retreat and remove into Wales, in order to superintend her school at Trvecca. This he did with all his power, instructing the young men both in learning and philosophy, till he received a letter from the Countess, together with the circular letter signed by Mr.
Shirley, summoning all that feared God in England to meet together at Bristol at the time of the Methodist Conference. In order to bear testimony against the dreadful heresy contained in the minutes of the preceding conference, her ladyship declared that all who did not absolutely renounce those eight propositions which were contained in the minutes of that conference must immediately leave her house. Mr. Fletcher was exceedingly surprised by this peremptory declaration. He spent the next day in fasting and prayer, and in the evening wrote to her ladyship, that he not only could not utterly renounce, but must entirely approve of all those eight propositions, and therefore had obeyed her order by leaving her house, and returning to his own at Matilly.
That circular letter was the happy occasion of his writing those excellent checks to antinomianism, in which one knows not which to admire most, the purity of the language, such as a foreigner scarce ever wrote before, The strength and clearness of the argument, or the mildness and sweetness of the spirit which breathes throughout the whole, insomuch that I nothing wonder at a clergyman that was resolved never to part with his dear decrees, who, being pressed to read them, replied, No, I will never read Mr. Fletcher's writings, for if I did, I should be of his mind. He now likewise wrote several other valuable tracts. Meantime he was more abundant in his ministerial labors, both in public and private, visiting his whole parish early and late in all weathers, regarding neither heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he was on horseback or on foot.
But this insensibly weakened his constitution, and sapped the foundation of his health. which was still more effectually done by his intense and uninterrupted studies, at which he frequently continued with scarce any intermission, fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen hours a day.
Meantime, he did not allow himself necessary food. He seldom took any regular meals, unless he had company, but twice or thrice in four-and-twenty hours ate some bread and cheese or fruit, Instead of which he sometimes took a draught of milk, and then wrote on again. When one reproved him for this, for not allowing himself a sufficiency of necessary food, he replied with surprise, "'Not allow myself food? Why, our food seldom costs my housekeeper and me less than two shillings a week.' Being informed that his health was greatly impaired, I judged nothing was so likely to restore it as a long journey. So I proposed his taking a journey with me into Scotland, to which he willingly consented. We set out in spring, and after travelling eleven or twelve hundred miles, returned to London in autumn.
I verily believe, had he travelled with me a few months longer, he would have quite recovered his health, But being stopped by his friends, he quickly relapsed and fell into a true pulmonary consumption. But this sickness was not unto death. It was only sent that the glory of the Lord might appear. During the whole course of it he remained at Newington, and was visited by persons of all ranks, and they all marvelled at the grace of God that was in him. In all his pain, no complaint came out of his mouth, but his every breath was spent either in praising God, or exhorting and comforting his neighbour. When nothing else availed, he was advised to take a journey by sea and by land into his own country.
He did this in company with Mr. Ireland, a well-tried and faithful friend, who loved him as a brother, and thought no pains ill-bestowed if he could preserve so valuable a life. He resided in his own country about a year, and was a blessing to all that were round about him. Being much recovered, he spent some months in France, and then returned in perfect health to Madaly. In the year, 1781, with full approbation of all his friends, he married Miss Beaucenquet, of whom, as she is still alive, I say no more at present, than that she was the only person in England whom I judge to be worthy of Mr. Fletcher. By her tender and judicious care, His health was confirmed more and more, and I am firmly convinced that had he used this health in travelling all over the kingdom, five or six or seven months every year, for which never was a man more eminently qualified, no, not Mr.
Whitfield himself, he would have done more good than any other man in England. I cannot doubt but this would have been the more excellent way. However, though he did not accept of this honour, He did abundance of good in that narrower sphere of action which he chose, and was a pattern well worthy the imitation of all the parochial ministers in the kingdom. His manner of life during the time that he and his wife lived together, it may be most satisfactory to give in her own words.
It is no little grief to me that my dearly beloved husband has left no account of himself in writing. And I am not able to give many particulars of a life the most angelical I have ever known. He was born at Nyon, in the canton of Bern, in Switzerland. In his infancy he discovered a lively genius and great tenderness of heart. One day, having offended his father, who threatened to correct him, he kept himself at a distance in the garden, till seeing his father approach, And fearing his anger would be renewed by the sight of him, he ran away. But he was presently struck with a deep remorse, thinking, What? Do I run away from my father? What a wicked wretch! It may be I may live to grow up and have a son that will run away from me.
And it was some years before the impression of sorrow, then made upon him, wore off. When he was about seven years old, he was reproved by his nursemaid, saying, "'You are a naughty boy, and the devil takes all such.' After he was in bed, he began to reflect on her words. His heart smote him, and he said, "'I am a naughty boy, and perhaps God will let the devil fetch me away.' He got up on the bed, and for a considerable time wrestled with God in prayer, Till he felt such a sense of the love of God as made him quite easy.
Part of the next paragraph, I omit, being nearly the same with what I inserted before.
When he entered Mr. Hill's family, he did not know Christ in his heart. One Sunday evening, as he was writing some music, the servant came in to make up the fire, and looking at him said, Sir. I am very sorry to see you so employed on the Lord's Day. He immediately put away his music, and from that hour became a strict observer of that holy day. Not long after he met with a person who asked him to go with her and hear the Methodists. He readily consented. The more he heard, the more uneasy he grew. Undoubling his diligence, he hoped by doing much To render himself acceptable to God. Till one day, hearing Mr. Green, he was convinced he did not know what true faith was. This occasioned many reflections in his mind.
Is it possible, said he, that I, who have made divinity my study, and have received the premium of piety, so called, from the university for my writings on divine subjects, That I should still be so ignorant as to not know what faith is? But the more he examined, the more he was convinced. Then sin revived, and hope died away. He now sought by the most rigorous austerities to conquer an evil nature, and bring heaven-born peace into his soul. But the more he struggled, the more he was convinced that all his fallen soul was sin. And that nothing but a revelation of the love of Jesus could make him a Christian. For this he groaned with unwearied assiduity. Till one day, after much wrestling with God, lying prostrate on his face before the throne, he felt the application of the blood of Jesus.
Now his bonds were broken, and his free soul began to breathe a pure air. Sin was beneath his feet. And he could triumph in the Lord, the God of his salvation. From this time he walked valiantly in the ways of God, and, thinking he had not leisure enough in the day, he made it a constant rule to sit up two nights in a week for reading, prayer, and meditation, in order to sink deeper into that communion with God which was become his soul's delight. Meantime he took only vegetable food, and for above six months lived wholly on bread with milk and water. Notwithstanding the nights he sat up, he made it a rule never to sleep as long as he could possibly keep awake. For this purpose he always took a candle and book to bed with him.
But one night, being overcome of sleep before he had put out the candle, he dreamed his curtains, pillow, and cap were on fire, without doing him any harm. And so it was. In the morning part of his curtains, pillow, and cap were burnt, but not an hair of his head was singed. So did God give his angels charge over him. Some time after he was favored with a particular manifestation of the love of God, so powerful that it appeared to him as if body and soul would be separated. Now all his desires centered in one, that of devoting himself to the service of his precious master. This he thought he could do best by entering into orders. God made his way plain, and he soon after settled in Mattelie. He received his parish as from the immediate hand of God, and unweariedly labored therein and in the adjacent places, till he had spent himself in his master's service, and was ripening fast for glory.
Much opposition he met with for many years, And often his life was in danger. Sometimes he was inwardly constrained to warn obstinate sinners that if they did not repent, the hand of God would cut them off. And the event proved the truth of the prediction. But notwithstanding all their opposition, many were the seals of his ministry. He had an earnest desire that the pure gospel should remain among his people after he was taken away. For this purpose he surmounted great difficulties in building the house in Mattelie Wood. He not only saved for it the last farthing he had, but when he was abroad, proposed to let the Vicarage House, designing at his return to live in a little cottage near it, and appropriating the rent of it for clearing that house.
Since the time I had the honor and happiness of living with him, Every day made me more sensible of the mighty work of the Spirit upon him. The fruits of this were manifest in all his life and conversation, but in nothing more than in his meekness and humility. It was a meekness which no affront could move, and humility which loved to be unknown, forgotten, and despised. I think this was going to an extreme. How hard is it to find an eminent person who loves an equal? But his delight was in preferring others to himself. It appeared so natural in him that it seemed as his meat to set every one before himself. He spake not of the fault of an absent person, but when necessary, and then with the utmost caution.
He made no account of his own labors, and perhaps carried to an extreme his dislike of hearing them mentioned. Patience is the daughter of humility. In him it discovered itself in a manner which I wish I could either describe or imitate. It produced in him a ready mind to embrace every cross with alacrity and pleasure. And for the good of his neighbor, the poor in particular, nothing seemed hard, nothing wearisome. When I have been grieved to call him out of his study, from his closet work, two or three times in an hour, he would answer, Oh, my dear, never think of that. It matters not what we do, so we are always ready to meet the will of God. It is only conformity to this which makes any employment excellent.
He had a singular love for the lambs of the flock, the children. and applied himself with the greatest diligence to their instruction, for which he had a peculiar gift, and this populous parish found him full exercise for it. The poorest met with the same attention from him as the rich. For their sakes he almost grudged himself necessaries, and often expressed a pain in using them, while any of his parish wanted them. But while I mention his meekness and love, let me not forget the peculiar favor of his master in giving him the most firm and resolute courage. In reproving sin and daring sinners, he was a son of thunder, and regarded neither fear nor favor when he had a message from God to deliver.
With respect to his communion with God, it is much to be lamented that we have no account of it from his own pen. But thus far I can say, it was his constant care to keep an uninterrupted sense of the divine presence. In order to this he was slow of speech, and had the exactest government of his words. To this he was so inwardly attentive, so sometimes to appear stupid to those who knew him not, though few conversed in a more lively manner when he judged it would be for the glory of God. It was his continual endeavor to draw up his own and every other spirit to an immediate intercourse with God, and all his intercourse with me was so mingled with prayer and praise that every employment and every meal was, as it were, perfumed therewith.
He often said, It is a very little thing so to hang upon God by faith as to feel no departure from Him. But I want to be filled. with the fullness of his spirit. "'I feel,' said he, "'sometimes such gleams of light as it were wafts of heavenly air, as seen ready to take my soul with them to glory.' A little before his last illness, when the fever began to rage among us, he preached a sermon on the duty of visiting the sick, wherein he said, "'What do you fear?' Are you afraid of catching the distemper and dying? Oh, fear it no more! What an honor to die in your master's work! If permitted to me, I should account it a singular favor. In his former illness he wrote thus, I calmly wait, in unshaken resignation, for the full salvation of God, ready to venture on His faithful love, and on the sure mercies of David.
His time is best, and is my time. Death has lost its sting, and I bless God, I know not what hurry of spirit is, or unbelieving fears.
For his last months he scarce ever lay down or rose up without these words in his mouth. I nothing have, I nothing am, my treasures in the bleeding lamb, both now and evermore.
In one of the letters which he wrote some time since to his dear people of Mattelie, some of his words are, I leave this blessed island for a while, but I trust I shall never leave the kingdom of God, the shadow of Christ's cross, the clefts of the rocks mitten and pierced for us. There I meet you in spirit. Thence I trust I shall joyfully leap into the ocean of eternity, To go and join those ministering spirits who wait on the heirs of salvation. And if I am no more allowed to minister to you on earth, I rejoice at the thought that I shall perhaps be allowed to accompany the angels who, if you abide in the faith, will be commissioned to carry you into Abraham's bosom. The thought enlivens my faith.
Lord, give me to walk in his steps. Then shall I see him again, and my heart shall rejoice, and we shall eternally behold the Lamb together. Faith brings near the welcome moment. And now he beckons me away, and Jesus bids me come. I know not that anything can or need be added to this, but Mrs. Fletcher's account of his death, which follows also in her own words. For some time before his late illness, He was particularly penetrated with the nearness of eternity. There was scarce an hour in which he was not calling upon us to drop every thought and every care, that we might attend to nothing but drinking deeper into God. We spent much time in wrestling with God, and were led in a peculiar manner to abandon our whole selves into the hands of God, to do or suffer whatever was pleasing to Him.
On Thursday, August 4th, he was employed in the work of God from three in the afternoon till nine at night. When he came home, he said, "'I have taken cold.' On Friday and Saturday he was not well, but seemed uncommonly drawn out in prayer. On Saturday night his fever appeared very strong. I begged him not to go to church in the morning, but he told me it was the will of the Lord. In which case I never dared to persuade. In reading prayers he almost fainted away. I got through the crowd and entreated him to come out of the desk, but he let me and others know in his sweet manner that we were not to interrupt the order of God. I then retired to my pew, where all around me were in tears. When he was a little refreshed by the windows being opened, he went on.
and then preached with a strength and recollection that surprised us all. After sermon he went up to the communion table with these words, I am going to throw myself under the wings of the cherubim before the mercy seat. The service held till near to. Sometimes he could scarce stand, and was often obliged to stop. The people were deeply affected. Weeping was on every side. Gracious Lord, how was it my soul was kept so calm in the midst of the most tender feelings? Notwithstanding his extreme weakness, he gave out several verses of hymns and lively sentences of exhortation. When service was over, we hurried him to bed, where he immediately fainted away. He afterward dropped into a sleep for some time, and on waking, cried out with a pleasant smile.
Now, my dear, thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord's work. He never fails me when I trust in Him. Having got a little dinner, he dozed most of the evening, now and then waking full of the praises of God. At night his fever returned, though not violent, but his strength decreased amazingly. On Monday and Tuesday we had a little paradise together. He lay on a couch in the study, and, though often changing posture, was sweetly pleasant, and frequently slept a good while. When awake, he delighted in hearing me read hymns and tracts on faith and love. His words were all animating, and his patience beyond expression. When he had any nauseous medicines to take, he seemed to enjoy the cross. According to a word he used often to repeat that we are to seek a perfect conformity to the will of God, and leave him to give us what comfort he saw good.
I asked him whether he had any advice to leave me, if he should be taken from me. He replied, I have nothing particular to say. The Lord will open all before thee. I said, Have you any conviction that God is about to take you? He said, No, not in particular. Only I always see death so inexpressibly near that we both seem to stand on the very verge of eternity. While he slept a little, I besought the Lord, if it was his good pleasure, to spare him to me a little longer. But my prayer seemed to have no wings, and I could not help mingling continually therewith. Lord, give me perfect resignation. This uncertainty made me tremble, lest God was going to put into my hand the bitter cup which he lately threatened my husband.
Some weeks before, I myself was ill of the fever. My husband then felt the whole parting scene, and struggled for perfect resignation. He said, O Polly, Shall I ever see the day when thou must be carried out to bury? How will the little things which thy tender care has prepared for me in every part of the house, how will they wound and distress me? How is it? I think I feel jealousy. I am jealous of the worms. I seem to shrink at giving my dear Polly to the worms. Now all these reflections returned upon my heart with the weight of a millstone. I cried to the Lord, and those words were deeply impressed on my spirit. Where I am, there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory. This promise was full of comfort to my soul.
I saw that in Christ's immediate presence was our home, and that we should find our reunion in being deeply centered in Him. I received it as a fresh marriage for eternity. As such, I trust forever to hold it. All that day, whenever I thought of that expression, to behold my glory, it seemed to wipe away every tear, and was as the ring whereby we were joined anew. Awaking some time after, he said, "'Polly, I have been thinking it was Israel's fault that they asked for signs. We will not do so. But abandoning our whole selves into the hands of God, we will lie patiently before Him, assured that He will do all things well.' "'My dear love,' said I, If ever I have done or said anything to grieve thee, how will the remembrance wound my heart, shouldst thou be taken from me?
He entreated and charged me with inexpressible tenderness, not to allow the thought, declaring his thankfulness for our union in a variety of words written on my heart as with the adamantine pen of friendship, deeply dipped in blood. On Wednesday, after groaning all day under the weight of the power of God, he told me he had received such a manifestation of the full meaning of those words, God is love, as he could never be able to tell. It fills me, said he, every moment. Oh, Polly, my dear Polly, God is love. Shout, shout aloud. I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth, but it seems as if I could not speak much longer. Let us fix on a sign between ourselves. Tapping me twice with his fingers.
Now I mean, God is love, and we will draw each other into God. Observe, by this we will draw each other into God. Sally coming in, he cried out, O Sallie! God is love! Shout, both of you! I want to hear you shout His praise! All this time the medical friend who diligently attended him hoped he was in no danger, as he had no bad headache, much sleep without the least delirium, and an almost regular pulse. So was the disease, though commissioned to take his life, restrained by the power of God. On Thursday his speech began to fail. While he was able, he spoke to all that came in his way. Hearing a stranger was in the house, he ordered her to be called up, though uttering two sentences almost made him faint.
To his friendly doctor he could not be silent while he had any power of speech, saying, "'Oh, sir, you take much thought for my body. Give me leave to take thought for your soul.' When I could scarce understand anything he said, I spoke these words. "'God is love.' Instantly, as if all his powers were awakened, he broke out in a rapture. "'God is love! Love, love! Oh, for that gust of praise I want to sound!' Here his voice again failed. He suffered many ways, but with such patience as none but those then present can conceive. If I named his sufferings, he would smile and make the sign. On Friday, finding his body covered with spots, I felt a sword pierce through my soul. As I was kneeling by his side with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many things.
But could not. Pressing my hand, and often repeating the sign. At last he breathed out, Head of the church, be head to my wife. When, for a few moments, I was forced to leave him, Sally said to him, My dear master, do you know me? He replied, Sally, God will put his right hand under you. She added, "'Oh, my dear master, should you be taken away, what a disconsolate creature will my poor dear mistress be?' He replied, "'God will be her all in all.'" He had always delighted much in these words. Jesus' blood through earth and skies, mercy free, boundless mercy cries. Whenever I repeated them to him, he would answer, "'Boundless!' Boundless! Boundless! Now he added, though with great difficulty, Mercy's full power I soon shall prove Loved with an everlasting love.
On Saturday afternoon his fever seemed quite off, and a few friends standing near his bed. He reached his hand to each, and, looking on a minister, said, Are you ready to assist tomorrow? His recollection surprised us, as the day of the week had not been named in his room. Many believed he would recover, and one said, Do you think the Lord will raise you up? He strove to answer, saying, Raise me in the resu... meaning the resurrection. To another, asking the same question, he said, I leave it all to God. In the evening the fever returned with violence, and the mucus falling on his throat almost strangled him. It was supposed the same painful emotion would grow more and more violent to the last.
As I felt this exquisitely, I cried to the Lord to remove it, and, glory be to his name, he did. From that time it returned no more. As night drew on, I perceived him dying very fast. His fingers could hardly make the sign, which he scarce ever forgot, and his speech seemed quite gone. I said, My dear creature, I ask not for myself. I know thy soul, but for the sake of others, if Jesus is very present with thee, lift thy right hand. He did. If the prospect of glory sweetly opens before thee, repeat the sign. He immediately raised it again, and in half a minute a second time. He then threw it up as if he would reach the top of the bed. After this his dear hands moved no more. But on my saying, Art thou in much pain?
He answered, No. From this time he lay in a kind of sleep, though his eyes were open and fixed. For the most part he sat upright against pillows, with his head a little inclining to one side, and so remarkably composed and triumphant was his countenance that the least trace of death was scarce discernible in it. Twenty-four hours he was in this situation, breathing like a person in common sleep. About thirty-five minutes past ten on Sunday night, August Fourteenth, His precious soul entered into the joy of the Lord without one struggle or groan in the fifty-sixth year of his age. But here I break off my mournful story. But on my bleeding heart the fair picture of his heavenly excellence will be forever drawn, when I call to mind his ardent zeal, his laborious endeavors to seek and save the lost, his diligence in the employment of his time, His Christlike condescension toward me, and his uninterrupted converse with heaven.
I may well be allowed to add, my loss is beyond the power of words to paint. I have gone through deep waters, but all my afflictions were nothing compared to this. Well, I want no pleasant prospect, but upwards. Nor anything whereon to fix my hope but immortality. On the seventeenth, his dear remains were deposited in Matalee Churchyard, amid the tears and lamentations of thousands. The service was performed by the Reverend Mr. Hatton, Rector of Waters-Upton, whom God enabled to speak in a pathetic manner to his weeping flock. In the conclusion, at my request, he read the following paper. As it was the desire of my beloved husband to be buried in this plain manner, so out of tenderness he begged that I might not be present, and in all things I would obey him.
Permit me then, by the mouth of a friend, to bear my open testimony to the glory of God, that I, who have known him in the most perfect manner, am constrained to declare that I never knew any one walked so closely in the ways of God as he did. The Lord gave him a conscience tender as the apple of an eye. He literally preferred the interest of everyone to his own. He was rigidly just, but perfectly loose from all attachment to the world. He shared his all with the poor, who lay so close to his heart that at the approach of death, when he could not speak without difficulty, he cried out, O my poor! What will become of my poor? He was blessed with so great a degree of humility as is scarce to be found.
I am witness how often he has rejoiced in being treated with contempt. Indeed, it seemed the very food of his soul to be little and unknown. When he desired me to write a line to his brother, if he died, I, replying, I will write him all the Lord's dealings with thee. No, no, he said. Write nothing about me. I only desire to be forgotten. God is all. His zeal for souls I need not tell you. Let the labours of twenty-five years, and a martyr's death in the conclusion, imprint it on your hearts. His diligent visitation of the sick occasioned the fever which, by God's commission, tore him from you and me. And his vehement desire to take his last leave of you with dying lips and hands, gave, it is supposed, the finishing stroke by preparing his blood for putrefaction.
Thus has he lived and died, your servant. And will any of you refuse to meet him at God's right hand in that day? He walked with death always in sight. About two months ago he came to me and said, My dear love, I know not how it is, but I have a strange impression death is very near us, as if it would be some sudden stroke upon one of us, and it draws out all my soul in prayer, that we may be ready. Then he broke out. Lord, prepare the soul thou wilt call. And O stand by the poor, disconsolate One that shall be left behind. A few days before his departure he was filled with love in an uncommon manner, saying to me, I have had such a discovery of the depth of that word, God is love, I cannot tell thee half.
O shout his praise! The same he testified as long as he had a voice, And continued to testify to the end, by a most lamb-like patience, in which he smiled over death, and set his last seal to the glorious truths he had so long preached among you. Three years, nine months, and two days, I have possessed my heavenly-minded husband. And now the sun of my earthly joy is set forever, and my soul filled with an anguish which only finds its consolation In a total resignation to the will of God. When I was asking the Lord, if he pleased, to spare him to me a little longer, the following promise was impressed on my mind with great power, in the accomplishment of which I took for our reunion. Where I am, there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.
Lord, hasten the hour. There is little need of adding any farther character of this man of God to the foregoing account. Given by one who wrote out the fullness of her heart, I would only observe that for many years I despaired of finding any inhabitant of Great Britain that could stand in any degree of comparison with Gregory Lopez or Monsieur de Renty. But let any impartial person judge, if Mr. Fletcher was at all inferior to them. Did he not experience as deep communion with God, and as high a measure of inward holiness, as was experienced either by one or the other of those burning and shining lights? And it is certain his outward holiness shone before men with full as bright a luster as theirs.
But if any should attempt to draw a parallel between them, there are two circumstances that deserve consideration. One is We are not assured that the writers of their lives did not extenuate, if not suppress, what was amiss in them. And some things amiss we are assured there were, to wit, many touches of superstition, and some of idolatry, in worshipping saints, the Virgin Mary in particular. But I have not suppressed or extenuated anything in Mr. Fletcher's character, for indeed I knew nothing that was amiss. Nothing that needed to be extenuated, much less suppressed. A second circumstance is, that the writers of their lives could not have so full a knowledge of them, as both Mrs. Fletcher and I had of Mr.
Fletcher, being eye-and-ear witnesses of his whole conduct. Consequently, we know that his life was not sullied by any mixture of either idolatry or superstition. I was intimately acquainted with him for above thirty years. I conversed with him morning and noon and night, without the least reserve during a journey of many hundred miles. And in all that time I never heard him speak one improper word, nor saw him do an improper action. To conclude, many exemplary men have I known, wholly in heart and life, within fourscore years, But one equal to him I have not known, one so inwardly and outwardly devoted to God, so unblameable in character in every respect, I have not found either in Europe or America, and I scarce expect to find another such on this side of eternity.
But it is possible we all may be such as he was. Let us then endeavor to follow him as he followed Christ. Norwich, October 24, 1785.
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26 26 - True Christianity Defended 27:07
Sermons on Several Locations, 3rd through 5th Series by John Wesley. True Christianity Defend It. How is the fateful city become a harlot? When I bring the sword upon a land, saith the Lord, if the watchman blow the trumpet, and warn the people, then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning, if the sword come and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head. But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned, if the sword come and take away any person from among them, He is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at the watchman's hand. Ezekiel 33, 2-6. It cannot be doubted but that word of the Lord is come unto every minister of Christ also.
So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel. Therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me. When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die. If thou doest not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at thine hand. Nor ought any man therefore to be accounted our enemy, because he telleth us the truth, the doing of which indeed is an instance of love to our neighbor as well as of obedience to God. Otherwise few would undertake so thankless a task for the return they will find they know already. The Scripture must be fulfilled. Me, the world, hate it, saith our Lord, because I testify of it that the deeds thereof are evil.
It is from a full, settled conviction that I owe this labor of love to my brethren and to my tender parent by whom I have been nourished for now more than twenty years, and from whom under God I have received those advantages of which I trust I shall retain a grateful sense. Till my spirit returns to God who gave it. It is, I say, from a full conviction, that love and gratitude, as well as that dispensation of the gospel wherewith I am entrusted, require it of me. Even I have undertaken to speak on a needful, though unwelcome subject. I would indeed have wished that some more acceptable person would have done this, but, should all hold their peace, the very stones would cry out, How is the fateful city become a harlot?
How faithful she was once to her lord, to whom she had been betrothed as a chaste virgin! Let not only the writings of her sons, which shall be had in honor throughout all generations, but also the blood of her martyrs, speak, a stronger testimony of her faithfulness than could be given by words, even by all the speeches of the babbling earth. But how is she now become a harlot? How had she departed from her lord? How had she denied him, and listened to the voice of strangers? Both, one, in respect of doctrine, and two, of practice, one, in respect of doctrine. It cannot be said that all our writers are setters forth of strange doctrines. There are those who expound the oracles of God by the same Spirit wherewith they were written, and who faithfully cleave to the solid foundation which our church hath laid agreeable thereto.
Touching which we have his word, who cannot lie, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. There are those also, blessed be the author of every good gift, who as wise master-builders build thereon, not hay or stubble, but gold and precious stones, but that charity which never faileth. We have likewise cause to give thanks to the Father of lights, for that he hath not left himself without witness, but that there are those who now preach the gospel of peace. The truth as it is in Jesus. But how few are these in comparison of those who adulterate the Word of God? How little wholesome food have we for our souls, and what abundance of poison? How few are there that, either in writing or preaching, declare the genuine gospel of Christ in the simplicity and purity wherewith it is set forth in the venerable records of our own Church?
And how are we enclosed on every side with those who, neither knowing the doctrines of our church, nor the scriptures, nor the power of God, have found out to themselves inventions wherewith they constantly corrupt others also? I speak not now of those prototokoi to satanah, firstborn of Satan, the Deists, Aryans, or Socinians. These are too infamous among us to do any great service to the cause of their master. But what shall we say of those who are accounted the pillars of our church, and champions of our faith, who indeed betray that church and sap the very foundations of the faith we are taught thereby? But how invidious a thing it is to show this! Who is sufficient to bear the weight of prejudice which must necessarily follow the very mention of such a charge against men of so established a character?
Nay, and who have indeed, in many other respects, done great service to the church of God? Yet must every faithful minister say, "'God forbid that I should accept any man's person. I dare not give any man flattering tides, nor spare any that corrupt the gospel. In so doing, my Maker would soon take me away.' Let me, however, be as short as may be upon this head, and I will instance only in two or three men of renown who have endeavoured to sap the very foundation of our church by attacking its fundamental and indeed The fundamental doctrine of all Reformed churches, viz. justification by faith alone. One of these, and one of the highest station in our church, had written and printed before his death several sermons expressly to prove that not faith alone, but good works also, are necessary in order to justification.
The unpleasing task of quoting particular passages out of them is superseded by the very title of them, which is this. The necessity of regeneration, which he at large proves to imply holiness both of heart and life in order to justification.
It may appear strange to some that an angel of the Church of God, as the Great Shepherd terms the overseers of it, and one so highly esteemed both in our own and many other nations should coolly and calmly thus speak. But O, what is he in comparison of the great Bishop Bull? Who shall be able to stand if this eminent scholar, Christian and prelate, in his youth wrote and published to the world, and in his riper years defended the positions that follow? A man is said ex ergon di Cayutae, to be justified by works. Because good works are the condition, according to the divine appointment, established in the Gospel Covenant, Requisite and necessary to a man's justification, that is, to his obtaining remission of sins, through Christ.
Bull. Harmonia Apostolica. Page 4. A little after being about to produce testimonies in proof of this proposition, he says, The first class of thee shall be those who speak of good works in a general sense as the requisite and necessary condition of justification. Then follow certain texts of scriptures, after which he adds, Who does not believe that in these scriptures there is an abundance of good works required which if a man do not perform, he is altogether excluded from the hope of pardon and remission of sins. Abedm page six. Having introduced some other things, he adds, Besides faith, there is no one but may see that repentance is required as necessary to justification. Now repentance is not one work alone, but is, as it were, a collection of many others.
For in its compass the following works are comprehended. I. Sorrow on account of sin. II. Humiliation under the hand of God. III. Hatred to sin. IV. Confession of sin. V. Ardent supplication of the divine mercy. VI. The love of God. VII. Ceasing from sin. VIII. Firm purpose of new obedience. 9. Restitution of ill-gotten goods. 10. Forgiving our neighbor his transgressions against us. 11. Works of beneficence or almsgiving. How much of these things avail to procure remission of sins from God is sufficiently evident from Daniel 4.27, where the prophet gives this wholesome advice to Nebuchadnezzar, who was at that time cleaving to his sins. Redeem. Editor's Note. The bishop translates PRQ. with the vulgate redeem or buy off, but the proper and literal meaning is break off.
End note. Your sins by almsgiving and your iniquities by showing mercy to the poor. Ibidem, page 10. To instance in one point more, all the liturgy of the Church is full of petitions for that holiness without which the Scripture everywhere declares, no man shall see the Lord. And these are all summed up in those comprehensive words which we are supposed to be so frequently repeating. Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of Thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love Thee and worthily magnify Thy holy name. It is evident that in the last clause of this petition, all outward holiness is contained, neither can it be carried to a greater height or expressed in stronger terms. And those words, cleanse the thoughts of our hearts, The remaining words, that we may perfectly love thee, contain the positive part of holiness.
Seeing this love, which is the fulfilling of the law, implies the whole mind that was in Christ. But how does the general stream of writers and preachers, let me be excused the invidious task of instancing in particular persons, agree with this doctrine? Indeed not at all. Very few can we find who simply and earnestly enforce it. Very many who write and preach as if Christian holiness or religion were a purely negative thing, as if not to curse or swear, not to lie or slander, not to be a drunkard, a thief or a warmonger, not to speak or do evil, was religion enough to entitle a man to heaven. How many, if they go something farther than this, describe it only as an outward thing? As if it consisted chiefly, if not wholly, in doing good, as it is called, and using the means of grace.
Or should they go a little farther still? Yet what do they add to this poor account of religion? Why, perhaps, that a man should be orthodox in his opinions and have a zeal for the constitution in church and state, and this is all. This is all the religion they can allow without degenerating into enthusiasm. So true it is that the fate of a devil and the life of a heathen make up what most men call a good Christian. But why should we seek further witnesses of this? Are there not many present here who are of the same opinion? Who believe that a good moral man and a good Christian mean the same thing? That a man need not trouble himself any farther if he only practices as much Christianity as was written over the heathen emperor's gate.
Do as thou wouldest be done unto. Especially if he be not an infidel or a heretic, but believes all that the Bible and the church say is true. I would not be understood as if I despised these things, as if I undervalued right opinions, true morality, or a zealous regard for the Constitution we have received from our fathers. Yet what are these things being alone? What will they profit us in that day? What will it avail to tell the judge of all? Lord, I was not as other men were, not unjust, not an adulterer, not a liar, not an immoral man. Yea, what will it avail if we have done all good, as well as done no harm, if we have given all our goods to feed the poor, and have not charity? How shall we then look on those who taught us to sleep on and take our rest, though the love of the Father was not in us?
Or who, teaching us to seek salvation by works, cut us off from receiving that faith freely? whereby alone the love of God could have been shed abroad in our hearts. To these miserable corruptors of the gospel of Christ, and the poison they have spread abroad, is chiefly owing. Two. Secondly, that general corruption in practice as well as in doctrine. There is hardly to be found, O tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Ashkelon, either the form of godliness or the power. So is the faithful city become a harlot. With grief of heart I speak it, and not with joy. That scarcely is the form of godliness seen among us. We are all indeed called to be saints in the very name of Christians means no less.
But who has so much as the appearance? Take anyone you meet, take a second, a third, a fourth, or the twentieth. Not one of them has even the appearance of a saint any more than of an angel. Observe his look. His air, his gesture. Does it breathe nothing but God? Does it bespeak a temple of the Holy Ghost? Observe his conversation, not on hour only, but day by day. Can you gather from any outward sign that God dwelleth in his heart? That this is an everlasting spirit who is going to God? Would you imagine that the blood of Christ was shed for that soul, and had purchased everlasting salvation for it? And that God was now waiting till that salvation should be wrought out with fear and trembling?
Should it be said, why, what signifies the form of godliness? We readily answer, nothing, if it be alone. But the absence of the form signifies much. It infallibly proves the absence of the power. For though the form may be without the power, yet the power cannot be without the form. Outward religion may be, where inward is not. But if there is none without, there can be none within. But it may be said, we have public prayers both morning and evening in all our colleges. It is true, and it were to be wished that all the members thereof, more especially the elder, those of note and character, would by constantly attending them show how sensible they are of the invaluable privilege. But have all who attend them the form of godliness?
Before those solemn addresses to God begin, does the behavior of all who are present show that they know before whom they stand? What impression appears to be left on their minds when those holy offices are ended? And even during their continuance, can it be reasonably inferred from the tenor of their outward behavior that their hearts are earnestly fixed on him who standeth in the midst of them? I much fear where a heathen who understood not our tongue to come into one of these our assemblies. He would suspect nothing less than that we were pouring out our hearts before the majesty of heaven and earth. What then shall we say, if indeed God is not mocked? But what a man soweth, that also shall he reap.
On Sundays, however, say some, it cannot be denied that we have the form of godness, having sermons preached both morning and afternoon, over and above the morning and evening service. But do we keep the rest of the Sabbath day holy? Is there no needless visiting upon it, no trifling, no impertinence of conversation? Do neither you yourself do any unnecessary work upon it, nor suffer others over whom you have any power to break the laws of God and man herein? If you do, even in this you have nothing whereof to boast, but herein also you are guilty before God. But if we have the form of godliness on a day, in a week, is there not on other days what is quite contrary there to? Are not the best of our conversing hours spent in foolish talking and jesting which are not convenient?
Nay, perhaps in wanton talking too, such as modest ears could not hear. Are there not many among us found to eat and drink with the drunken? And if so, what marvel is it that our profaneness should also go up into the heavens, and our oaths and curses into the ears of the lord of the sabbe old? And even as to the hours assigned for study, are they generally spent to any better purpose? Not if they are employed in reading, as is to common plays, novels, or idle tales, which naturally tend to increase our inbred corruption, and heat the furnace of our unholy desires seven times hotter than it was before. How little preferable is the laborious idleness of those who spend day after day in gaming or diversions, vilely casting away that time, the value of which they cannot know till they are passed through it into eternity.
Know ye not so much as this, you that are called moral men, that all idleness is immorality, that there is no gross or dishonesty to enslaught, that every voluntary blackhead is a knave? He defrauds his benefactors, his parents, and the world, and robs both God and his own soul. And yet how many of these are among us, how many lazy drones, as if only fluges consumere nati, born to eat the produce of the soil? How many whose ignorance is not owing to incapacity but to mere laziness? How few, let it not seem immodest, that even such a one as I should touch on that tender point, of the vast number who have it in their power, are truly learned men, not to speak of the other Eastern tongues? Who is there that can be said to understand Hebrew, might I not say, or even Greek?
A little of Homer or Xenophon we may still remember. But how few can readily read or understand so much as the page of Clemens, Alexandrinus, Chrysostom, or Ephraim Sirius? And as to philosophy, not to mention mathematics or the abstruser branches of it, how few do we find to have laid the foundation, who are masters even of logic, who sorrowly understand so much as the rules of syllogizing, the veridoption of the moods and figures? Oh, what is so scarce as learning, save religion? And indeed, learning will be seldom found without religion. For temporal views, as experience shows, will very rarely suffice to carry one through the labor required to be a sorrowous scholar. Can it then be dissembled that there is too often a defect in those to whom the care of youth is entrusted?
Is that solemn direction sufficiently considered? Statutes, page 7. Let the tutor diligently instruct those scholars committed to his care in strict morality and especially in the first principles of religion and in the articles of doctrine. And do they, to whom this important charge is given, labor diligently to lay this good foundation? To fix true principles of religion in the minds of youth entrusted with them by their lecturers? To recommend the practice thereof by the powerful and pleasing influence of their example? To enforce this by frequent private advice, earnestly and strongly inculcated. To observe the process and carefully inquire into the behavior of every one of them. In a word, to watch over their souls as they that must give account.
Suffer me since I have begun to speak upon this head to go a little farther. Is there sufficient care taken that they should know and keep the statutes which we are all engaged to observe? How then is it that they are notoriously broken every day? To instance only in a few. It is appointed as to divine offices in preaching that all shall publicly attend, graduates and scholars shall attend punctually, and continue till all be finished with due reverence from the beginning to the end. Page 181. It is appointed that scholars of every rank shall abstain from all kinds of play where money is contended for, such as cards, dice, and bowls, nor shall they be present at public games of this nature. Page 157.
It is appointed that all, the sons of noblemen excepted, shall custom themselves to black or dark-colored clothing, and that they shall keep at the utmost distance from pomp and extravagance. Page 157. It is appointed that scholars of every rank shall abstain from ale-houses, inns, taverns, and from every place within the city where wine or any other kind of liquor is ordinarily sold. Page 164. It will be objected, perhaps, that these are but little things. Nay, but perjury is not a little thing, nor consequently the willful breach of any rule which we have solemnly sworn to observe. Surely those who speak thus have forgotten those words. Thou shalt pledge thy faith to observe all the statutes of this university.
So help thee God in the holy-inspired Gospels of Christ. Page 229. But is this oath sufficiently considered by those who take it? Or any of those prescribed by public authority? Is not this solemn act of religion the calling God to record on our souls, commonly treated as a slight thing? In particular by those who swear by the living God that neither entreaties nor reward, neither hatred nor friendship, neither hope nor fear, induce them to give a testimony to any unworthy person? Page 88. And by those who swear, I know this person to be meet and fit in morals and knowledge for that high degree to which she is presented. Yet one thing more. We have all testified before God that all and every articles of our church as also the Book of Common Prayer and the ordaining of bishops, priests, and deacons are agreeable to the Word of God.
And in so doing we have likewise testified that both the first and the second book of homilies do it contain godly and wholesome doctrine. But upon what evidence have many of us declared this? Have we not affirmed the thing we know not? If so, however true they may happen to be, we are found false witnesses before God. Have the greater part of us ever used any means to know whether these things are so or not? Have we ever for one hour seriously considered the articles to which we have been subscribed? If not, how shamefully do we elude the design of the very compilers, who compiled them to remove difference of opinion and to establish unanimity in the true religion? Have we half of us read over the Book of Common Prayer, and of ordaining bishops, priests, and deacons?
If not, what is it we have solemnly confirmed? In plain terms, we cannot tell. And as to the two books of homilies, it is well if a tenth part of those who have subscribed to them, I will not say, had considered them before they did this, but if they have even read them over to this day. Alas, my brethren, how shall we reconcile these things even to common honesty, to plain heathen morality? So far are those who do them, nay, and perhaps defend them too, from having even the form of Christian godliness. But waiving all these things, where is the power? Who are the living witnesses of this? Who among us, let God witness with our hearts, experimentally knows the force of inward holiness? Who feels in himself the workings of the Spirit of Christ, drawing up his mind to high and heavenly things?
Who can witness the thoughts of my heart God hath cleansed by the inspiration of His Holy Spirit? Who knoweth that peace of God which passeth all understanding? Who is he that rejoiceth with joy unspeakable and full of glory? Whose affections are set on things above, not on things of the earth? Whose life is hid with Christ in God? Who can say, I am crucified with Christ, yet I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me, and the life that I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me. In whose heart is the love of God shed abroad by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him? Is not almost the very notion of this religion lost? Is there not a gross, overflowing ignorance of it?
Nay, is it not utterly despised? Is it not wholly set at naught, and trodden underfoot? Were any one to witness these things before God, would he not be accounted a madman, an enthusiast? Am not I unto you a barbarian who speak thus? My brethren, my heart pleads for you. O that you would at length take knowledge and understand that these are the words of truth and soberness. O that you knew at least in this your day the things that make for your peace. I have been a messenger of heavy tidings this day, but the love of Christ constrained me, and to me it was the less grievous, because for you it was safe. I desire not to accuse the children of my people. Therefore neither do I speak thus in the ears of them that sit on the wall, but to you I endeavor to speak the truth in love as a faithful minister of Jesus Christ.
And I can now call you to record this day that I am pure from the blood of all men, for I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God. May the God of all grace, who is longsuffering, of tender mercy, and repented him of the evil, fix these things in your hearts. and water the seed he hath owned with the Jew of heaven. May he correct whatsoever he seeth amiss in us. May he supply whatsoever is wanting. May he perfect that which is according to his will, and so establish, strengthen, and settle us, that this place may again be a faithful city to her Lord. Yea, the praise of the whole earth.
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27 27 - On Mourning for the Dead 16:22
On Mourning for the Dead. Preached at Epworth, January 11, 1726, at the funeral of John Griffith, a hopeful young man. Now he is dead. Wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me. 2 Samuel 12.23 The resolution of a wise and good man, just recovering the use of his reason and virtue, after the bitterness of soul he had tasted from the hourly expectation of the death of a beloved son, is comprised in these few but strong words. He had fasted and wept, and lay all night upon the earth, and refused not only comfort, but even needful sustenance whilst the child was still alive, in hopes that God would be gracious as well in that as in other instances, and reverse the just sentence he had pronounced.
When it was put in execution, in the death of the child, He arose and changed his apparel, having first paid his devotions to his great master, acknowledging no doubt the mildness of his severity, and owning, with gratitude and humility, the obligation laid upon him, in that he was not consumed as well as chastened by his heavy hand. He then came into his house, and behaved with his usual composure and cheerfulness. The reason of this strange alteration in his proceedings, as it appeared to those who were ignorant of the principles upon which he acted, he here explains, with great brevity, but in the most beautiful language, strength of thought, and energy of expression. Now he is dead, wherefore should I fast?
Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me. To what end, saith the resigned mourner? Should I fast, now the child is dead? Why should I add grief to grief, which, being a volunteer, increases the affliction I already sustain? Would it not be equally useless to him and me? Have my tears or complaints the power to refix his soul in her decayed and forsaken mansion? Or, indeed, would he wish to change, though the power were in his hands, the happy regions of which he is now possessed, for this land of care, pain, and misery? O vain thought! Never can he, never will he, return to me. Be it my comfort, my constant comfort, when my sorrows bear heart upon me, that I shall shortly, very shortly, go to him, that I shall soon awake from this tedious dream of life, which will soon be at an end, and then shall I gaze upon him, then shall I behold him again, and behold him with that perfect love, that sincere and elevated affection, to which even the heart of a parent is here a stranger.
When the Lord God shall wipe away all tears from my eyes, and the least part of my happiness shall be that the sorrow of absence shall flee away. The unprofitable and bad consequences, the sinful nature, of profuse sorrowing for the dead, are easily deduced from the former part of this reflection. In the latter, we have the strongest motives to enforce our striving against it, a remedy exactly suited to the disease, a consideration which, duly applied, will not fail either to prevent this sorrow or rescue us from this real misfortune. Grief, in general, is the parent of so much evil, and the occasion of so little good to mankind, that it may be justly wondered how it found a place in our nature.
It was, indeed, of man's own, not of God's creation, who may permit, but never was the author of, evil. The same hour gave birth to grief and sin, as the same moment will deliver us from both, For neither did exist before human nature was corrupted, nor will it continue when that is restored to its ancient perfection. Indeed, in this present state of things, that wise being who knows well how to extract good out of evil, has shown us one way of making this universal frailty highly conducive both to our virtue and happiness. Even grief, if it lead us to repentance, and proceed from a serious sense of our faults, is not to be repented of, since those who thus sow in tears shall reap in joy. If we confine it to this particular occasion, it does not impair but greatly assist our imperfect reason.
Pain, either of body or mind, acting quicker than reflection, and fixing more deeply in the memory any circumstance it attends. From the very nature of grief, which is an uneasiness in the mind on the apprehension of some present evil, it appears that its arising in us, on any other occasion than that of sin, is entirely owing to our want of judgment. Are any of those accidents, in the language of men termed misfortunes, such as reproach, poverty, loss of life, or even of friends, real evils? So far from it, that, if we dare believe our Creator, they are often positive blessings. They all work together for our good. And our Lord accordingly commands us, even when the severest loss, that of our reputation, befalls us, if it is in a good cause, as it must be our own fault if it be not, to rejoice and be exceeding glad.
But what fully proves the utter absurdity of almost all our grief, except that for our own failings, is that the occasion of it is always past before it begins. To recall what has already been is utterly impossible and beyond the reach of omnipotence itself. Let those who are fond of misery, if any such there be, indulge their minds in this fruitless inquietude. They who desire happiness will have a care how they cherish such a passion, as is neither desirable in itself, nor serves to any good purpose, present or future. If any species of this unprofitable passion be more particularly useless than the rest, it is that which we feel when we sorrow for the dead. We destroy the health of our body and impair the strength of our minds, and take no price for those invaluable blessings.
We give up our present without any prospect of future advantage. Without any probability of either recalling them hither or profiting them where they are. As it is an indifferent proof of our wisdom, it is still a worse of our affection for the dead. It is the property of envy, not of love, to repine at another's happiness, to weep because all tears are wiped from their eyes. Shall it disturb us, who call ourselves his friends, that a weary wanderer has at length come to his wished-for home? Nay, weep we rather for ourselves, who still want that happiness, even to whom that rest appeareth yet in prospect. Gracious is our God, and merciful, Who, knowing what is in man, that passion, when it has conquered reason, always takes the appearance of it, lest we should be misled by this appearance, adds the sanction of his unerring commands to the natural dictates of our own understanding.
The judgment, perhaps, might be so clouded by passion, as to think it reasonable to be profuse in our sorrow at parting from a beloved object. But Revelation tells us that all occurrences of life must be born with patience and moderation. Otherwise, we lay a greater weight on our own souls than external accidents can do without our concurrence, with humility, because from the offended justice of God we might well have expected he would have inflicted much worse, and with resignation, because we know whatsoever happens is for our good. And although it were not, we are not able to contend with, and should not therefore provoke, him that is stronger than we.
Against this fault, which is inconsistent with those virtues, and therefore tacitly forbidden in the precepts that enjoin them, St. Paul warns us in express words. I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also who sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. Wherefore, comfort one another with these words. 1 Thessalonians 4, 13, 14, and 18. And these, indeed, are the only words which can give lasting comfort to a spirit whom such an occasion hath wounded. Why should I be so unreasonable, so unkind, as to desire the return of a soul now in happiness to me, to this habitation of sin and misery, since I know that the time will come, yea, is now at hand, when, in spite of the great gulf fixed between us, I shall shake off these chains and go to him?
What he was I am both unable to paint in suitable colors, and unwilling to attempt it. Although the chief, at least the most common, argument for those labored encomiums on the dead, which for so many years have so much prevailed among us, is that there can be no suspicion of flattery. Yet we all know that the pulpit on those occasions has been so frequently prostituted to those servile ends that it is now no longer capable of serving them. Men take it for granted that what is there said are words of course, that the business of the speaker is to describe the beauty, not the likeness, of the picture, and, so it be only well drawn, he cares not whom it resembles. In a word, that his business is to show his own wit, not the generosity of his friend, by giving him all the virtues he can think on.
This, indeed, is an end that is visibly served in those ill-timed commendations. Of what other use they are, it is hard to say. It is of no service to the dead to celebrate his actions, since he has the applause of God and his holy angels, and also that of his own conscience. And it is of very little use to the living, since he who desires a pattern may find enough proposed as such in the sacred writings. What, must one be raised from the dead to instruct him, whilst Moses, the prophets, and the beloved Jesus are still presented to his view in those everlasting tables? Certain it is that he who will not imitate these would not be converted, though one literally rose from the dead. Let it suffice to have paid my last duty to him, whether he is now hovering over these lower regions, or retired already to the mansions of eternal glory, by saying, in a few plain words, such as were his own and were always agreeable to him, that he was to his parents an affectionate, dutiful son, to his acquaintance an ingenious, cheerful, good-natured companion.
And to me, a well-tried, sincere friend. At such a loss, if considered without the alleviating circumstances, who can blame him that drops a tear? The tender meltings of a heart dissolved with fondness, that it reflects on the several agreeable moments which have now taken their flight never to return, give an authority to some degree of sorrow. Nor will human frailty permit an ordinary acquaintance to take his last leave of them without it. Who then can conceive, much less describe, the strong emotion, the secret workings of soul, which a parent feels on such an occasion? None, surely, but those who are parents themselves, unless those few who have experienced the power of friendship, Than which human nature, on this side of the grave, knows no closer, no softer, no stronger tie.
At the tearing asunder of these sacred bands, well may we allow, without blame, some parting pangs. But the difficulty is to put as speedy a period to them as reason and religion command us. What can give us sufficient ease after that rupture which has left such an aching void in our breasts? What, indeed, but the reflection already mentioned, which can never be inculcated too often, that we are hastening to him ourselves, that, past but a few years, perhaps hours, which will soon be over, and not only this, but all other desires will be satisfied, When we shall exchange the gaudy shadow of pleasure we have enjoyed for sincere, substantial, untransitory happiness. With this consideration well imprinted in our minds, it is far better, as Solomon observes, to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting.
The One embraces the soul, disarms our resolution, and lays us open to attack. The other cautions us to recollect our reason, and stand upon our guard, and infuses that noble steadiness and seriousness of temper, which it is not in the power of an ordinary stroke to discompose. Such objects naturally induce us to lay it to heart, that the next summons may be our own, and that since death is the end of all men without exception, it is high time for the living to lay it to heart. If we are, at any time, in danger of being overcome by dwelling too long on the gloomy side of this prospect, to the giving us pain, the making us unfit for the duties and offices of life impairing our faculties of body or mind, which proceedings, as has been already shown, are both absurd, unprofitable, and sinful, Let us immediately recur to the bright side, and reflect, with gratitude as well as humility, that our time passeth away like a shadow, and that, when we awake from this momentary dream, we shall then have a clearer view of that latter day in which our Redeemer shall stand upon the earth, when this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall be clothed with immortality.
And when we shall sing, with the united choirs of men and angels, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
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28 28 - On Corrupting the Word Of God 16:42
On corrupting the Word of God. We are not as many who corrupt the Word of God. But as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God, speak we in Christ. 2 Corinthians 2, 17. Many have observed that nothing conduces more to a preacher's success with those that hear him than a general good opinion of his sincerity. Nothing gives him a greater force of persuasion than this. Nothing creates either a greater attention in the hearers, or a greater disposition to improve. When they really believe he has no end in speaking but what he fairly carries in view, and that he is willing that they should see all the steps he takes for the attainment of that end, It must give them a strong presumption both that what he seeks is good and the method in which he seeks it.
But how to possess them with this belief is the question. How shall we bring them to take notice of our sincerity if they do not advert to it of themselves? One good way, however common, is frankly and openly to profess it. There is something in these professions when they come from the heart strongly insinuating into the hearts of others. The persons of any generosity that hear them find themselves almost forced to believe them, and even those who believe them not are obliged in prudence not to let their incredulity appear, since it is a known rule. The honester any man is, The less apt he is to suspect another. The consequence whereof is plain. Whoever without proof is suspicious of his neighbor's sincerity gives a probable proof that he judges of his heart from the falseness of his own.
Would not any man be tempted to suspect his integrity, who, without proof, suspected the want of it in another that had fairly and openly professed the principles on which he acted? Surely none but who himself corrupted the Word of God, or wished that it were corrupted, could likely suspect either St. Paul of doing it, or any that after him should use his generous declaration. We are not as many who corrupt the Word of God. But as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ. Not that the apostle, any more than his followers in preaching the gospel, desires they should wholly rely on his words, for afterwards he appeals to his actions to confirm them. And those who in this can imitate him need not entreat men to believe their sincerity.
If our works bear the stamp of it as well as our words, Both together will speak so loudly and plainly every unprejudiced person must understand that we speak in Christ as in sincerity, and that in so doing we consider we are in the sight of that God whose commission we bear. Those whom the apostle accuses of the contrary practice of corrupting the Word of God seem to have been Jews. Who, owning Jesus to be Christ and His gospel to be divine, yet adulterated it by intermingling with it the law of Moses and their own traditions. And in doing this, their principal view was to make a gain of Christ, which consequently laid them under a necessity of concealing the end they proposed, as well as the means they used to obtain it.
On the contrary, Those who intend the good of mankind are by no means concerned to hide their intentions. If the benefit we propose in speaking be to ourselves, it is often our interest to keep it private. If the benefit we propose be to others, it is always our interest to make it public, and it is the interest both of ourselves and others To make public those marks of distinction whence may clearly be known who corrupt the Word of God, and who preach it in sincerity. The first and great mark of one who corrupts the Word of God is introducing into it human mixtures, either the errors, heresies of others, or the fancies of his own brain. To do this is to corrupt it in the highest degree. To blend with the oracles of God impure dreams fit only for the mouth of the devil.
And yet it has been so frequently done that scarce ever was any erroneous, heretical opinion either invented or received, but Scripture was quoted to defend it. And when the imposture was too barefaced, And the text cited for it appeared too plainly either to make against it or to be nothing to the purpose, then recourse has usually been had to a second method of corrupting it, by mixing it with false interpretations. And this is done sometimes by repeating the words wrong, and sometimes by repeating them right, but putting a wrong sense upon them. One that is either strained, and unnatural, or foreign, to the writer's intention in the place from whence they are taken, perhaps contrary either to his intention in that very place, or to what he says in some other part of his writings.
And this is easily effected. Any passage is easily perverted by being recited singly without any of the preceding or following verses. By this means it may often seem to have one sense, when it will be plain, by observing what goes before and what follows after, that it really has the direct contrary. For want of observing which, unwary souls are liable to be tossed about with every wind of doctrine whenever they fall into the hand of those who have enough of wickedness and cunning thus to adulterate what they preach. and to add now and then a plausible comment to make it go down the more easily. A third sort of those who corrupt the word of God, though in a lower degree than either of the former, are those who do so not by adding to it, but taking from it, who take either of the spirit or substance of it away, while they study to prophesy only smooth things, and therefore palliate and color what they preach, to reconcile it to the taste of the hearers.
And that they may do this the better, they commonly let those parts go that will admit of no coloring. They wash their hands of those stubborn texts that will not bend to their purpose, or that to plainly touch on the reigning vices of the place where they are. These they exchange for those more soft and tractable ones, that are not so apt to give offense. Not one word must be said of the tribulation and anguish denounced against sinners in general, much less of the unquenchable fire which, if God be true, awaits several of those particular offenses that have fallen within their own notice. These tender parts are not to be touched without danger by them who study to recommend themselves to men, or, if they are, it must be with the utmost caution and a nice evasion in reserve.
But they safely may thunder against those who are out of their reach, and against those sins which they suppose none that hear them are guilty of. No one takes it to heart to hear those practices laid open which he is not concerned in himself. But when the stroke comes home, when it reaches his own case, then is he, if not convinced, displeased or angry, and out of patience. These are the methods of those corrupters of the word who act in the sight of men, not of God. He trieth the hearts, and will receive no service in which the lips only are concerned. But their words have no intercourse with their thoughts, nor is it proper for them that they should. For if their real intention once appeared, it must make itself unsuccessful.
They purpose, it is true, to do good by the gospel of Christ, but it is to themselves, not to others. Whereas they that use sincerity in preaching the gospel in the good of others seek their own, and that they are sincere and speak as commissioned officers in the sight of him whose commission they bear, plainly appears from the direct contrariety between their practice and that of the dissemblers above described. First, consider it is not their own word they preach, but the word of Him that sent them. They preach it genuine and unmixed. As they do not only profess, but really believe, that if any man add unto the word of God, he will add unto him all the plagues that are written in it, they are fearful of doing it in the least instance.
You have the gospel from them, if in a less elegant manner, yet fair. And as it is, without any mixture of errors, heresy, to pollute it, or misinterpretation to perplex it, explained in the most natural, obvious manner, by what proceeds and what follows the place in question, and commented on by the most sure way, the least liable to mistake or corruption, the producing of those parallel places that express the same thing the more plainly. In the next place, they are as cautious of taking from as of adding to the word they preach. They dare no more, considering in whose sight they stand, say less than or more than He has assigned them. They must publish, as proper occasions offer, all that is contained in the oracles of God, whether smooth or otherwise.
It matters nothing, since it is unquestionably true and useful too. For all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable either for doctrine, or reproof, or correction, or instruction in righteousness, either to teach us what we are to believe or practice, or for conviction of error, reformation of vice. They know that there is nothing superfluous in it relating either to faith or practice, And therefore they preach all parts of it, though those more frequently and particularly which are more particularly wanted where they are. They are so far from abstaining to speak against any vice because it is fashionable and in repute in the place Providence has allotted them. But for that very reason they are more zealous in testifying against it.
They are so far from abstaining from speaking for any virtue, because it is unfashionable and in disrepute where they are placed, that they therefore the more vigorously recommend it. Lastly, they who speak in sincerity, and as in the sight of him who deputes them, show that they do so by the manner in which they speak. They speak with plainness and boldness, and are not concerned to palliate their doctrine to reconcile it to the tastes of men. They endeavor to set it always in a true light, whether it be a pleasing one or not. They will not, they dare not, soften a threatening so as to prejudice its strength. Neither represents sin in such mild colors as to impair its native blackness. Not that they do not choose mildness when it is likely to be effectual.
Though they know the terrors of the Lord, they desire rather to persuade men. This method they use, and love to use it, with such as are capable of persuasion. With such as are not, they are obliged, if they will be faithful, to take the severer course. Let the revilers look to that. It harms not them. And if they are blamed or reviled for so doing, let the revilers look to that. Let the hearers accommodate themselves to the Word. The Word is not, in this sense, to be accommodated to the hearers. The preacher of it would be no less in fault in a slavish obsequiousness on one side than in an unrelenting sternness on the other. If then we have spoken the Word of God, the genuine unmixed Word of God, and that only, if we have put no unnatural interpretation upon it, but have taken the known phrases in their common, obvious sense, and when they were less known explained Scripture by Scripture, If we have spoken the whole word, as occasion offered, though rather the parts which seemed most proper to give a check to some fashionable vice, or to encourage the practice of some unfashionable virtue, and if we have done this plainly and boldly, though with all the mildness and gentleness that the nature of the subject will bear, then believe ye our works, if not our words, Or rather believe them both together.
Here is all a preacher can do, all the evidence that he either can or need give of his good intentions. There is no way but this to show he speaks as of sincerity, as commissioned by the Lord, and as in his sight. If there be any who, after all this, will not believe that it is his concern, not our own, we labor for, That our first intention in speaking is to point him the way to happiness, and to disengage him from the great road that leads to misery, we are clear of the blood of that man. It rests on his own head. For thus saith the Lord, who hath set us as watchmen over the souls of our countrymen and brethren. If thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it, Much more if we use all methods possible to convince him that the warning is of God, if he do not turn from his way, which certainly he will not if he do not believe that we are in earnest, he shall die in his iniquity, but thou hast delivered thine own soul.
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29 29 - On the Resurrection of the Dead 38:47
Section 29 of Sermons on Several Occasions Third through Fifth Seerers Sermons on Several Occasions 3rd through 5th series by John Wesley On the Resurrection of the Dead Note. This sermon was originally written by Benjamin Callamy, D.D., Vicar of St. Lawrence, jury. It occurs, page 275, in a volume of sermons which bears his name, published in 1704, and is here abridged and revised by Mr. Wesley. Editor. End note. But some men will say, how are the dead raised up, and with what body do they come? 1 Corinthians. 1535. The apostle having, in the beginning of this chapter, firmly settled the truth of our Saviour's resurrection, adds, Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead?
It cannot now any longer seem impossible to you. that God should raise the dead, since you have so plain an example of it in our Lord, who was dead and is alive, and the same power which raised Christ must also be able to quicken our mortal bodies. But some men will say, how are the dead raised up? And with what body do they come? How can these things be? How is it possible that these bodies should be raised again, and joined to their several souls, which many thousands of years ago were either buried in the earth, or swallowed up in the sea, or devoured by fire, which have moulded into the finest dust, that dust scattered over the face of the earth, dispersed as far as the heavens are wide, nay, which has undergone Ten thousand changes, has fattened the earth, become the food of other creatures, and these again the food of other men.
How is it possible that all these little parts, which made up the body of Abraham, should be again ranged together and unmixed with the dust of other bodies? Be all placed in the same order and posture that they were before, so as to make up the very selfsame body which his soul at his death forsook. Ezekiel was indeed in a vision, sat down in a valley full of dry bones. And he heard a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bones, and the sinews and the flesh came upon them. And the skin covered them above, and breath came into them, and they lived and stood upon their feet. This might be in a vision, but that all this and much more should in time come to pass, that our bones, after they are crumbled into dust, should really become living men, that all the little parts whereof our bodies were made should immediately at a general summons meet again, And every one challenge and possess its own place, till at last the whole be perfectly rebuilt.
That this, I say, should be done, is so incredible a thing that we cannot so much as have any notion of it. And we may observe that the Gentiles were most displeased with this article of the Christian faith. It was one of the last things that heathens believed. And it is to this day the chief objection to Christianity. How were the dead raised up? With what body do they come?
In my discourse on these words, I shall do three things. One. I shall show that the resurrection of the selfsame body that died and was buried contains nothing in it incredible or impossible. Two.
I shall describe the difference which the Scripture makes between the qualities of a glorified and immortal body. Three. I shall draw some inferences from the whole.
One.
I shall show that the resurrection of the selfsame body that died contains nothing in it incredible or impossible. But before I do this, it may be proper to mention some of the reasons upon which this article of our faith is built.
The plain notion of a resurrection requires that the self-same body that died should rise again. Nothing can be said to be raised again but that very body that died. If God give to our souls at the last day a new body, This cannot be called the resurrection of our body, because that word plainly implies the fresh production of what was before.
There are many places of Scripture that plainly declare it. St. Paul, in the fifty-third verse of this chapter, tells us that this corruptible must put on in corruption, and this mortal Must put on immortality. 1 Corinthians 1553. Now by this mortal and this corruptible can only be meant that body which we now carry about with us, and shall one day lay down in the dust.
The mention which the Scripture makes of the places where the dead shall rise further shows Thus we read in Daniel, Those that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And we may likewise observe that the very phrase of sleep and awake implies that when we rise again from the dead, our bodies will be as much the same as they are when we awake from sleep. Thus again our Lord affirms, John, 5, 28, 29, the hour is coming in which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth, they that have done good to the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. Now if the same body do not rise again, what need is there of opening the graves at the end of the world?
The graves can give up no bodies but those which were laid in them. If we were not to rise with the very same bodies that died, then they might rest forever. To this we need only add that of St. Paul. The Lord shall change this vile body, That it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body. Now this vile body can be no other than that with which we are now clothed, which must be restored to life again.
That in all this there is nothing incredible or impossible, I shall show by proving these three things. One. that it is possible for God to keep and preserve, unmixed from all other bodies, the particular dust into which our several bodies are dissolved, and can gather and join it again, how far soever dispersed asunder. Two, that God can form that dust so gathered together into the same body as it was before. Three, that when he hath formed this body, He can enliven it with the same soul that before inhabited it.
God can distinguish and keep unmixed from all other bodies the particular dust into which our several bodies are dissolved, and can gather it together and join it again, how far soever dispersed asunder. God is infinite, both in knowledge and power. He knoweth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names. He can tell the number of the sands on the seashore. And is it at all incredible that he should distinctly know the several particles of dust into which the bodies of men are molded, and plainly discern to whom they belong, and the various changes they have undergone? Why should it be thought strange that he, who at the first formed us, whose eyes saw our substance yet being imperfect, from whom we were not hid when we were made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth, should know every part of our bodies, and every particle of dust whereof we were composed?
The artist knows every part of the watch which he frames, and if it should fall in pieces, and the various parts of it lie in the greatest disorder and confusion, yet he can soon gather them together, and as easily distinguish one from another as if every one had its particular mark. He knows the use of each, and can readily give it its proper place, and put them all exactly in the same figure and order they were before. And can we think that the almighty Builder of the world, whose workmanship we are, does not know whereof we are made, or is not acquainted with the several parts of which this earthly tabernacle is composed? All these lay in one vast heap at the creation, Till he separated them one from another, and framed them into those distinct bodies whereof this beautiful world consists.
And why may not the same power collect the ruins of our corrupted bodies, and restore them to their former condition? All the parts into which men's bodies are dissolved, however they seem to us carelessly scattered over the face of the earth, are yet carefully laid up. by God's wise disposal, till the day of the restoration of all things. They are preserved in the waters and fires, in the birds and beasts, till the last trumpet shall summon them to their former habitation. But, say they, it may sometimes happen that several men's bodies may consist of the selfsame matter, for the bodies of men are often devoured by other animals, which are eaten by other men. Nay, there are nations which feed upon human flesh.
Consequently, they borrow a great part of their bodies from other men. And if that which was part of one man's body becomes afterwards part of another man's, how can both rise at the last day with the same bodies they had before? To this it may easily be replied, That a very small part of what is eaten turns to nourishment, the far greater part goes away, according to the order of nature. So that it is not at all impossible for God, who watches over and governs all this, so to order things, that what is part of one man's body, though eaten by another, shall never turn to his nourishment, or, if it does, that it shall wear off again, and some time before his death be separated from him. So that it may remain in a capacity of being restored at the last day to its former owner.
God can form this dust so gathered together into the same body it was before, and that it is possible or must own who believe that God made Adam out of the dust of the earth. Therefore the bodies of men being dust after death, it is no other than it was before. And the same power that at the first made it of dust may as easily remake it when it is turned into dust again. Nay, it is no more wonderful than the forming a human body in the womb, which is a thing we have daily experience of, and is doubtless as strange an instance of divine power as the resurrection of it can possibly be. And were it not so common a thing, We should be as hardly brought to think it possible that such a beautiful fabric as the body of man is, with nerves and bones, flesh and veins, blood, and the several other parts whereof it consists, should be formed as we know it is, as now we are, that hereafter it should be rebuilt, when it has been crumbled into dust.
Had we only heard of the wonderful production of the bodies of men, We should have been as ready to ask, how were men made, and with what bodies are they born, as now, when we hear of the resurrection? How were the dead raised up, and with what bodies do they come?
When God hath raised this body, he can enliven it with the same soul that inhabited it before.
And this, we cannot pretend to say, is impossible to be done, for it has been done already. Our Saviour himself was dead, rose again, and appeared alive to his disciples and others, who had lived with him many years, and were then fully convinced that he was the same person they had seen die upon the cross. Thus have I shown that the resurrection of the same body is by no means impossible to God, that what he hath promised he is able also to perform by that mighty power by which he is able to subdue all things to himself. Though, therefore, we cannot exactly tell the manner how it shall be done, yet this ought not in the least to weaken our belief of this important article of our faith. It is enough that He, to whom all things are possible, hath passed His word, that He will raise us again.
Let those who presume to mock at the glorious hope of all good men, and are constantly raising objections against it, first try their skill upon the various appearances of nature. Let them explain everything which they see happen in this world. Before they talk of the difficulties of explaining the resurrection. Can they tell me how their own bodies were fashioned and curiously wrought? Can they give me a plain account by what orderly steps this glorious stately structure, which discovers so much workmanship and rare contrivance, was at first created? How was the first drop of blood made? And how came the heart and veins and arteries to receive it? Of what? And by what means were the nerves and fibres made?
What fixed the little springs in their due places, and fitted them for the several uses for which they now serve? How was the brain distinguished from the other parts of the body, and filled with spirits to move and animate the whole? How came the body to be fenced with bones and sinews? To be clothed with skin and flesh, distinguished into various muscles. Let them but answer these few questions about the mechanism of our own bodies, and I will answer all the difficulties concerning the resurrection of them. But if they cannot do this without having recourse to the infinite power and wisdom of the first cause, let them know. That the same power and wisdom can reanimate it after it is turned into dust, and that there is no reason for our doubting concerning the thing, because there are some circumstances belonging to it which we cannot perfectly comprehend or give a distinct account of.
Two. I now proceed to the second thing I proposed, which was to describe the difference the Scripture makes between the qualities of a mortal and of a glorified body.
The change which shall be made in our bodies at the resurrection, according to the Scripture, will consist chiefly in these four things. 1. That our bodies shall be raised immortal and incorruptible. 2. That they shall be raised in glory. 3. That they shall be raised in power. 4. That they shall be raised spiritual bodies.
The body that we shall have at the resurrection shall be immortal and incorruptible. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. Now these words, immortal, and incorruptible, not only signify that we shall die no more, for in that sense the damned are immortal and incorruptible, but that we shall be perfectly free from all the bodily evils which sin brought into the world, that our bodies shall not be subject to sickness or pain or any other inconveniences we are daily exposed to. This the Scripture calls the redemption of our bodies, the freeing them from all their maladies. Were we to receive them again, subject to all the frailties and miseries which we are forced to wrestle with, I much doubt whether a wise man, were he left to his choice, would willingly take his again, whether he would not choose to let his still lie rotting in the grave.
Rather than to be again chained to such a cumbersome clod of earth, such a resurrection would be, as a wise heathen calls it, a resurrection to another sheep. It would look more like a redemption to death again than a resurrection to life. The best thing we can say of this house of earth is that it is a ruinous building. and will not be long before it tumbles into dust, for it is not our home. We look for another house, eternal in the heavens, that we shall not always be confined here, but that in a little time we shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, from this burden of flesh, into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. What frail things these bodies of ours are! How soon are they disordered!
To what a troop of diseases, pains, and other infirmities are they constantly subject? And how does the least distemper disturb our minds and make life itself a burden? Of how many paths do our bodies consist? And if one of these be disordered, the whole man suffers? If but one of these slender threads whereof our flesh is made up be stretched beyond its due proportion? Or fretted by any sharp humour, or broken? What torment does it create? Nay, when our bodies are at the best, what pains do we take to answer their necessities, to provide for their sustenance, to preserve them in health, and to keep them tenantable in some tolerable fitness for our soul's use? And what The time we can spare from our labours is taken up in rest, and refreshing our jaded bodies and fitting them for work again.
How are we forced, even naturally, into the confines of death, even to cease to be, at least to pass so many hours without any useful or reasonable thoughts, merely to keep them in repair? But our hope and comfort are, that we shall shortly be delivered from this burden of flesh, when God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away. Oh, when shall we arrive at that P. Ham, where no complaints were ever heard, where we shall all enjoy uninterrupted health, both of body and mind, and never more be exposed to any of those inconveniences that disturb our present pilgrimage.
When we shall have once passed from death unto life, We shall be eased of all the troublesome care of our bodies, which now takes up so much of our time and thoughts. We shall be set, now undergone to support our lives. Yon robes of light, with which we shall be clothed at the resurrection of the just, will not stand in need of those careful provisions which it is so troublesome to us here, either to procure or to be without. But then, as our Lord tells us, those who shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world neither marry nor are given in marriage, neither can they die any more, but they are equal to the angels. Their bodies are neither subject to disease nor want that daily sustenance which these mortal bodies cannot be without.
Meats for the belly and the belly for meats, but God will destroy both it and them. This is that perfect happiness which all good men shall enjoy in the other world, a mind free from all trouble. and guilt, in a body free from all pains and diseases. Thus our mortal bodies shall be raised immortal. They shall not only be always preserved from death, for so these might be if God pleased, but the nature of them shall be wholly changed, so that they shall not retain the same seeds of mortality. They cannot die any more. Our bodies shall be raised in glory. Then shall the righteous shine, and the sun in the kingdom of their father. A resemblance of this we have in the lustre of Moses' face, when he had conversed with God on the mount.
His face shone so bright that the children of Israel were afraid to come near him, till he threw a veil over it. And that extraordinary majesty of Stephen's face seemed to be an earnest of his glory. All that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel. How then, if it shone so gloriously even on earth, will it shine in the other world, when his, and the bodies of all the saints, are made like unto Christ's glorious body. How glorious the body of Christ is, we may guess from his transfiguration. St. Peter, when he saw this, when our Lord's face shone as the sun, and his raiment became shining and white as snow, was so transported with joy and admiration that he knew not what he said.
When our Saviour discovered but little of that glory which he now possesses, and which in due time he will impart to his followers. Yet that little of it made the place seem a paradise, and the disciples thought that they could wish for nothing better than always to live in such pure light, and enjoy so beautiful a sight. It is good for us to be here. Let us make three tabernacles. Here let us fix our abode for ever, and if they thought it so happy only to be present with such heavenly bodies, and to behold them with their eyes, how much happier must it be to dwell in such glorious mansions, and to be themselves clothed with so much brightness. This excellency of our heavenly bodies will probably arise in great measure From the happiness of our souls, the unspeakable joy that we then shall feel will break through our bodies and shine forth in our countenances, as the joy of the soul, even in this life, has some influence upon the countenance by rendering it more open and cheerful.
So Solomon tells us, a man's wisdom makes his face to shine. Virtue, as it refines a man's heart, So it makes his very looks more cheerful and lively. Our bodies shall be raised in power. This expresses the sprightliness of our heavenly bodies, the nimbleness of their motion, by which they shall be obedient and able instruments of the soul. In this state, our bodies are no better than clogs and fetters. which confine and restrain the freedom of the soul. The corruptible body presses down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weighs down the mind, and dull, sluggish, inactive bodies are often unable or backward to obey the commands of the soul. But in the other life, they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, They shall mount up with wings as eagles.
They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint, or, as another expresses it, they shall run to and fro like sparks among the stubble. The speed of their motion shall be like that of devouring fire in stubble, and the height of it above the towering of an eagle. For they shall meet the Lord in the air when He comes to judgment, and mount up with Him into the highest heaven. This earthly body is slow and heavy in all its motions, listless and soon tired with action. But our heavenly bodies shall be as fire, as active and as nimble as our thoughts are.
Our bodies shall be raised spiritual bodies. Our spirits are now forced to serve our bodies, and to attend their leisure, and do greatly depend upon them for most of their actions. But our bodies shall then wholly serve our spirits, and minister to them, and depend upon them, so that, as by a natural body, we understand one fitted for this lower, sensible world. For this earthly state, so a spiritual body is one that is suited to a spiritual state, to an invisible world, to the life of angels. And indeed this is the principal difference between a mortal and a glorified body. This flesh is the most dangerous enemy we have. We therefore deny and renounce it in our baptism. It constantly tempts us to evil.
Every sense is a snare to us. All its lusts and appetites are inordinate. It is ungovernable, and often rebels against reason. The law in our members wars against the law of our mind. When the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak. So that the best of men are forced to keep it under, and use it hardly, lest it should betray them into folly and misery. And how does it hinder us in all our devotions? How soon does it How easily, by its enchanting pleasures, does it divert them from these noble exercises! But when we have obtained the resurrection unto life, our bodies will be spiritualized, purified, and refined from their earthly grossness. Then they will be fit instruments for the soul in all its divine and heavenly employment.
We shall not be weary of singing praises to God through infinite ages. Thus, after what little we have been able to conceive of it, it sufficiently appears that a glorified body is infinitely more excellent and desirable than this vile body. The only thing that remains is 3. To draw some inferences from the whole, and first, from what has been said, we may learn the best way of preparing ourselves to live in these heavenly bodies, which is by cleansing ourselves more and more from all earthly affections, and weaning ourselves from this body, and all the pleasures that are peculiar to it. We should begin in this life To loosen the knots between our souls and this mortal flesh, to refine our affections, and raise them from things below to things above, to take off our thoughts, and disengage them from present and sensible things, and accustom ourselves to think of and converse with things future and invisible.
that so our souls, when they leave this earthly body, may be prepared for a spiritual one, as having beforehand tasted spiritual delights, and being in some degree acquainted with the things which we then shall meet with. A soul wholly taken up with this earthly body is not fit for the glorious mansions above, A sensual mind is so wedded to bodily pleasures that it cannot enjoy itself without them, and it is not able to relish any other, though infinitely to be preferred before them. Nay, such as follow the inclinations of their fleshly appetites are so far unfit for heavenly joys, that they would esteem it the greatest unhappiness to be clothed with a spiritual body, It would be like clothing a beggar in the robes of a king.
Such glorious bodies would be uneasy to them. They would not know what to do in them. They would be glad to retire and put on their rags again. But when we are washed from the guilt of our sins, and cleaned from all filthiness of flesh and spirit by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, Then we shall long to be dissolved, and to be with our exalted Saviour. We shall be always ready to take wing for the other world, where we shall at last have a body suited to our spiritual appetites.
From hence we may see how to account for the different degrees of glory in the heavenly world. For although all the children of God shall have glorious bodies, yet the glory of them all shall not be equal. As one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead. They shall all shine as stars, but those who, by a constant diligence in well-doing, have attained to a higher measure of purity than others, shall shine more bright than others. They shall appear as more glorious stars. It is certain that the most heavenly bodies will be given to the most heavenly souls, so that this is no little encouragement to us to make the greatest progress we possibly can in the knowledge and love of God, since the more we are weaned from the things of the earth now, the more glorious will our bodies be of the resurrection.
Let this consideration Engage us patiently to bear whatever troubles we may be exercised with in the present life. The time of our eternal redemption draweth nigh. Let us hold out a little longer, and all tears shall be white from our eyes, and we shall never sigh nor sorrow any more. And how soon shall we forget all we endured in this earthly tabernacle, when once we are clothed with that house which is from above. We are now but on our journey toward home, and so must expect to struggle with many difficulties. But it will not be long ere we come to our journey's end, and that will make amends for all. We shall then be in a quiet and safe harbor, Out of the reach of all storms and dangers. We shall then be at home in our father's house, no longer exposed to the inconveniences which, so long as we abide abroad in these tents, we are subject to.
And let us not forfeit all this happiness, for want of a little more patience. Only let us hold out to the end, and we shall receive an abundant recompense, for all the trouble and uneasiness of our passage, which shall be endless rest and peace. Let this, especially, fortify us against the fear of death. It is now disarmed, and can do us no hurt. It divides us, indeed, from this body a while, but it is only that we may receive it again, more glorious. As God therefore said once to Jacob, Fear not to go down into Egypt, for I will go down with thee, and will surely bring thee up again. So may I say to all who are born of God, Fear not to go down into the grave. Lay down your heads in the dust, for God will certainly bring you up again, and that in a much more glorious manner.
Only be ye steadfast and unmovable. Always abounding in the work of the Lord, and then let death prevail over and pull down this house of clay, since God hath undertaken to rear it up again, infinitely more beautiful, strong, and useful.
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30 30 - On Grieving the Holy Spirit 21:08
Sermons on Several Occasions by John Wesley.
On Grieving the Holy Spirit. Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. Ephesians, four thirty.
There can be no point of greater importance to him who knows that it is the Holy Spirit which leads us into all truth and into all holiness, than to consider with what temper of soul we are to entertain his divine presence, so as not either to drive him from us, or to disappoint him of the gracious ends for which his abode with us is designed, which is not the amusement of our understanding, but the conversion and entire sanctification of our hearts and lives. These words of the Apostle contain a most serious and affectionate exhortation to this purpose. Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. The title holy applied to the Spirit of God does not only denote that He is holy in His own nature, but that He makes us so, that He is the great fountain of holiness to His church.
The Spirit from whence flows all the grace and virtue, by which the stains of guilt are cleansed, and we are renewed in all holy dispositions, and again bear the image of our Creator. Great reason, therefore, there was for the apostle to give this solemn charge concerning it, and the highest obligation lies upon us all to consider it with the deepest attention, which that we may the more effectually do, I shall inquire. One. In what sense the Spirit of God is said to be grieved at the sins of men? Two. By what kind of sin he is more especially grieved? Three. I shall endeavor to show the force of the Apostle's argument against grieving the Holy Spirit, by whom we are sealed to the day of redemption.
I. I am first to inquire in what sense the Spirit of God may be said to be grieved with the sins of men. There is not anything of what we properly call passion in God, but there is something of an infinitely higher kind, some motions of His will which are more strong and vigorous than can be conceived by men, and although they have not the nature of human passions, yet will answer the ends of them. By grief, therefore, we are to understand a disposition in God's will, flowing at once from His boundless love to the persons of men, and His infinite abhorrence of their sins. And in this restrained sense, it is here applied to the Spirit of God, in the words of the Apostle. And the reasons for which it is peculiarly applied to him are, first, because he is more immediately present with us, second, because our sins are so many contempts of this highest expression of his love, and disappoint the Holy Spirit in his last remedy, and third, because by this ungrateful dealing we provoke him to withdraw from us.
We are said to grieve the Holy Spirit by our sins because of His immediate presence with us. They are more directly committed under His eye, and are therefore more highly offensive to Him. He is pleased to look upon professing Christians as more peculiarly separated to His honor. Nay, we are so closely united to Him that we are said to be one Spirit with Him, and therefore every sin which we now commit Besides its own proper guilt, carries in it a fresh and infinitely high provocation. Know ye not your own sows, saith St. Paul, that your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost? And how are they so but by his inhabitation and intimate presence with our souls? When, therefore, we set up the idols of earthly inclinations in our hearts, which are properly his altar, and bow down ourselves to serve those vicious passions which we ought to sacrifice to his will, this must needs be in the highest degree offensive and grievous to him.
For what concord is there between the Holy Spirit and Belial? Or what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? We grieve the Holy Spirit by our sins because They are so many contempts of the highest expression of his love, and disappoint him in his last remedy, whereby he is pleased to endeavor our recovery. And thus every sin we now commit is done in despite of all his powerful assistances, in defiance of his reproofs, an ungrateful return for infinite loving-kindness. As the Holy Spirit is the immediate minister of God's will upon earth, and transacts all the great affairs of the church of Christ. If, while he pours out the riches of his grace upon us, he finds them all unsuccessful, no wonder if he appeals to all the world in the words of the prophet against our ingratitude.
And now, O ye men of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it? Wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes? These and many more such, which we meet with in the Holy Scriptures, are the highest expressions of the deepest concern, such as imply the utmost unwillingness to deal severely even with those whom yet by all the wise methods of His grace He could not reform. The Holy Spirit here represents Himself as one who would be glad to spare sinners if he could, and therefore we may be sure it is grievous to him that by their sins they will not suffer him. For men thus to disappoint the Holy Spirit of love, for that too is his peculiar title, to make him thus wait that he may be gracious, and pay attendance on us through our whole course of folly and vanity, And to stand by, and be a witness of our stubbornness, with the importunate offers of infinite kindness in His hands, is a practice of such a nature that no gracious mind can hear the thoughts of it.
It is an argument of God's unbounded mercy, that He is pleased to express that He is only grieved at, that His indignation does not flame out against those who are thus basely ungrateful, and consume them in a moment. It was such ingratitude as this in the Jews, after numberless experiences of his extraordinary mercies towards them, that made infinite love at last turn in bitterness to reward them according to their doings. As we find the account given by the prophets in the most affecting and lively manner, and surely considering the much greater obligations he hath laid on us, who enjoy the highest privileges, We may be sure that our sinful and untoward behavior will at last be as great as the mercies we have abused.
There is no doubt that God observes all the sons of men, and His wrath abides on every worker of iniquity. But it is the unfaithful professor who has known His pardoning love that grieves His Holy Spirit, which implies a peculiar baseness in our sins. A man may be provoked, indeed, by the wrongs of his enemy, but he is properly grieved by the offenses of his friend. And therefore, besides our other obligations, our very near relation to God as being his friends and children would, if we had a spark of gratitude in our souls, be a powerful restraint upon us in preserving us from evil. But if the arguments of this kind are not strong enough to keep us from grieving our best friend, the Holy Spirit of God, let us consider that by this ungrateful conduct we shall provoke Him to withdraw from us.
The truth of this, almost all who have ever tasted of the good gifts of the Holy Spirit must have experienced. It is to be hoped that we have had, some time or other, so lively a sense of His holy influence upon us, as that when we have been so unhappy as to offend him, we could easily perceive the change in our souls, in that darkness, distress, and despondency which more especially followed the commission of wilful and presumptuous sins. At those seasons, the blessed spirit retired and concealed his presence from us. We were justly left to a sense of our own wretchedness and misery, Till we humbled ourselves before the Lord, and by deep repentance and active faith obtained a return of divine mercy and peace.
And the more frequently we offend Him, the more we weaken His influence in our souls. For frequent breaches will necessarily occasion estrangement between us. And it is impossible that our intercourse with him can be cordial when it is disturbed by repeated interruptions. So a man will forgive his friend a great many imprudences and some wilful transgressions. But to find him frequently affronting him, all his kindness will wear off by degrees, and the warmth of his affection even towards him who had the greatest share of it will die away. As he cannot but think that such a one does not any longer either desire or deserve to maintain a friendship with him.
Two. I come now to consider by what kinds of sin the Holy Spirit is more especially grieved. These sins are, in general, such as either at first wholly disappoint His grace of its due effect upon our souls, or are afterwards directly contrary to his gracious and merciful assistance. Of the former sort I shall only mention at present inconsiderateness. Of the latter, sins of presumption. The first I shall mention, as being more especially grievous to the Holy Spirit, is inconsiderateness and inadvertence to his holy motions within us. There is a particular frame and temper of soul, a sobriety of mind, without which the Spirit of God will not concur in the purifying of our hearts. It is in our power, through His preventing and assisting grace, to prepare this in ourselves, and He expects we should, this being the foundation of all His after-works.
Now this consists in preserving our minds in a cool and serious disposition, in regulating and calming our affections, Calling in and checking the inordinate pursuits of our passions after the vanities and pleasures of this world. The doing of which is of such importance that the very reason why men profit so little under the most powerful means is that they do not look enough within themselves. They do not observe and watch the discords and imperfections of their own spirit, nor attend with care to the directions and remedies which the Holy Spirit is always ready to suggest. Men are generally lost in the hurry of life, in the business or pleasures of it, and seem to think that their regeneration, their new nature, will spring and grow up within them with as little care and thought of their own as their bodies were conceived, and have attained their full strength and stature.
Whereas there is nothing more certain than that the Holy Spirit will not purify our nature, unless we carefully attend to his motions, which are lost upon us while, in the prophet's language, we scatter away our time, while we squander away our thoughts upon unnecessary things, and leave our spiritual improvement, the one thing needful, quite unthought of and neglected. There are many persons who, in the main of their lives, are regular in their conversation, and observe the means of improvement, and attend upon the holy sacrament with exactness, who, yet in the intervals of their duties, give too great liberty to their thoughts, affections, and discourse. They seem to adjourn the great business of salvation to the next hour of devotion.
If these professors lose so much in their spiritual estate for want of adjusting and balancing their accounts, What, then, must we think of those who scarce ever bestow a serious thought upon their eternal welfare? Surely there is not any temper of mind less a friend to the spirit of religion than a thoughtless and inconsiderate one, that, by a natural succession of strong and vain affections, shuts out everything useful from their souls, till at length they are overtaken by a fatal lethargy. They lose sight of all danger and become insensible of divine convictions, and in consequence quite disappoint all the blessed means of restoration. If therefore we measure the Holy Spirit's concern at the sins of men by the degrees of his disappointment, we may conclude that there is no state of mind that grieves him more unless that of actual wickedness.
Presumptuous sins are, indeed, in the highest manner offensive to the Holy Spirit of God. They are instances of open enmity against Him, and have all the guilt of open rebellion. The wilful sinner is not ignorant or surprised, but knowingly fights against God's express commandment, and the lively, full, and present conviction of his own mind and conscience, so that this is the very standard of iniquity. And all other kinds of sins are more or less heinous, as they are nearer or farther off from sins of this dreadful nature, inasmuch as these imply the greatest opposition to God's will, contempt of His mercy, and defiance of His justice. This, if anything can, doubtless must so grieve him as to make him wholly withdraw His gracious presence.
Three. I come now to show the force of the Apostle's argument against grieving the Holy Spirit, because we are sealed to the day of redemption. By the day of redemption may be meant either the time of our leaving these bodies at death, or of our taking them again at the general resurrection. Though here it probably means the latter, in which sense the Apostle uses the word in another place, waiting for the adoption, to wit, The redemption of our bodies. And to this day of redemption we are sealed by the Holy Spirit these three ways. By receiving His real stamp upon our souls, by being made the partakers of the divine nature, by receiving Him as a mark of God's property, as a sign that we belong to Christ, and as an earnest and assurance to our own spirits that we have a title to eternal happiness.
And first we are sealed by the Holy Spirit of God, by our receiving His real stamp upon our souls, being made the partakers of His divine nature, and meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. This is indeed the design of His dwelling in us, to heal our disordered souls, and to restore that image of His upon our nature, which is so defaced by our original and actual corruptions. And until our spirits are, in some measure, thus renewed, we can have no communion with Him, for, if we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth. But by the renewal of our minds in the image of Him that created us, we are still more capable of His influences, and by means of a daily intercourse with Him, we are more and more transformed into His likeness, Till we are satisfied with it.
This likeness of God, this conformity of our will and affections to His will, is, properly speaking, holiness. And to produce this in us is the proper end and design of all the influences of the Holy Spirit. By means of His presence with us, we receive from Him a great fullness of holy virtues. We take such features of resemblance in our spirits As correspond to his original perfections. And thus we are sealed by him in the first sense by way of preparation for our day of redemption. And since we are so, and our new nature thus grows up under the same power of his hands, what do we, when we grieve him by our sins, but undo and destroy his work? We frustrate his designs by breaking down the fences which he had been trying to raise up against the overflowings of corruption, so that at last we entirely defeat all his gracious measures for our salvation.
We are sealed by the Holy Spirit into the day of redemption as a sign of God's property in us, and as a mark that we belong to Christ. And this is by His appointment The condition and security of that future happiness, into which he will admit none but those who have received the Spirit of his Son into their hearts. But in whomsoever he finds this marking character, when he shall come to judge the world, these will he take to himself, and will not suffer the destroyer to hurt them. To this very purpose the prophet Malachi, speaking of those who feared God, says, "'They shall be mine,' saith the Lord. in the day when I take up my jewels, that is to say, when I set my seal and mark upon them, and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.
Now, if the Holy Spirit be the sign, the seal, and the security of our salvation, then by grieving him by our sins, we break up this seal with our own hands, We cancel our firmest security, and as much as in us lies, reverse our own title to eternal life. Besides this, the Holy Spirit within us is the security of our salvation. He is likewise in earnest of it, and assures our spirits that we have a title to eternal happiness. The Spirit of God beareth witness with our spirits that we are the children of God. And in order that this inward testimony may be lively and permanent, it is absolutely necessary to attend carefully to the secret operation of the Holy Spirit within us, who, by infusing His holy consolations into our souls, by enlivening our drooping spirits, and giving us a quick relish of His promises, raises bright and joyous sensations in us, and gives a man beforehand a taste of the bliss to which he is going.
In this sense, God is said by the Apostle to the Corinthians to have sealed us and to have given the earnest of His Spirit in our hearts, and that earnest not only by way of confirmation of our title to happiness, but as an actual part of that reward at present, the fullness which we expect hereafter.
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31 31 - On Love 23:00
Sermon 139 On Love Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. 1 Corinthians 13.3 There is great reason to fear, that it will hereafter be said of most of you who are here present, that this scripture, as well as all those you have heard before, Profited you nothing. Some, perhaps, are not serious enough to attend to it. Some who do attend will not believe it. Some who do believe it will yet think it a hard saying, and so forget it as soon as they can. And of those few who receive it gladly, for a time some having no root of humility or self-denial, when persecution arises because of the word, Will, rather than suffer for it, fall away?
Nay, even of those who attend to it, who believe, remember, yea, and receive it so deeply into their hearts, that it both takes root there, endures the heat of temptation, and begins to bring forth fruit, yet will not all bring forth fruit unto perfection, the cares or pleasures of the world, and the desires of other things. Perhaps not felt till then, will grow up with the Word and choke it. Nor am I that speak the Word of God any more secure from these dangers than you that hear it. I, too, have to bewail an evil heart of unbelief, and whenever God shall suffer persecution to arise, yea, were it only the slight one of reproach, I may be the first that is offended. Or, if I be unable to sustain this, Yet should he let loose the cares of the world upon me, or should he cease to guard me against those pleasures that do not lead to him, and the desires of other things, then knowing and loving him, I should surely be overwhelmed, and having preached to others, be myself a castaway.
Why, then, do I speak this word at all? Why? Because a dispensation of the gospel is committed to me. And though what I shall do to-morrow, I know not. To-day I will preach the gospel, and with regard to you my commission runs thus. Son of man, I do send thee to them, and thou shalt say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God, whether they will hear, or whether they will forbear. Thus saith the Lord God, whosoever thou art. Who wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. In order to this, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. Forsake not the assembly together, as the manner of some is. In secret, likewise, pray to thy Father, who seeth in secret, and pour out thy heart before him.
Make my word a lantern to thy feet, and a light unto thy paths. Keep it in thy heart. And in thy mouth, when thou sittest in thy house, when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up, turn unto me with fasting, as well as prayer, and in obedience to thy dying Redeemer, by eating that bread and drinking that cup. Show ye forth the Lord's death till he comes. By the power thou shalt through these means receive from on high Do all the things which are enjoined in the law, and avoid all the things which are forbidden therein, knowing that if ye offend in one point, ye are guilty of all. To do good also, and to distribute, forget not. Yea, while you have time, do all the good you can unto all men.
Then deny thyself, take up thy cross daily, and if called thereto, resist unto blood. And when each of you can say, All this have I done, then let him say to himself farther, Words at which not only such as Felix alone, but the holiest soul upon earth might tremble, though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. It concerns us all therefore in the highest degree to know, One, the full sense of those words, though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned. Two, the true meaning of the word love. And three, in what sense it can be said that without love all this profiteth us nothing.
As to the first, it must be observed that the word used by St. Paul properly signifies to divide into small pieces, and then to distribute what has been so divided, and consequently it implies not only divesting ourselves at once of all the worldly goods we enjoy, either from a fit of distaste of the world, or a sudden start of devotion, but an act of choice, and that choice coolly and steadily executed. It may imply, too, that this be done Not out of vanity, but in part from a right principle, namely from a design to perform the command of God, and a desire to obtain His kingdom. It must be farther observed that the word give signifies actually to deliver a thing according to agreement, and accordingly it implies, like the word proceeding, not a hasty, inconsiderate action, but one performed with open eyes, In a determined heart, pursuant to a resolution before taken, the full sense of the words therefore is this, which he that hath ears to hear, let him hear.
Though I should give all the substance of my house to feed the poor, though I should do so upon mature choice and deliberation, though I should spend my life dealing it out to them with my own hands, yea, And that from a principle of obedience, though I should suffer from the same view, not only reproach and shame, not only bonds and imprisonment, and all this by my own continued act and deed, not accepting deliverance, but moreover death itself, yea, death inflicted in a manner the most terrible to nature, yet all this, if I have not love, The love of God, and the love of all mankind, shed abroad in my heart by the Holy Ghost given unto me, it profiteth me nothing. Two. Let us inquire what this love is.
What is the true meaning of the word? We may consider it either as to its properties or effects, and that we may be under no possibility of mistake. We will not at all regard the judgment of men. But go to our Lord Himself for an account of the nature of love and for the effects of it, to His inspired apostle. The love which our Lord requires in all His followers is the love of God and man, of God for his own, and of man for God's sake. Now what is to love God but to delight in Him, to rejoice in His will, to desire continually to please Him? To seek and find our happiness in Him, and to thirst, day and night, for a fuller enjoyment of Him. As to the measure of this love, our Lord has clearly told us, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart.
Not that we are to love or delight in none but Him, for He hath commanded us not only to love our neighbor, that is, all men as ourselves. To desire and pursue their happiness as sincerely and steadily as our own, but also to love many of His creatures in the strictest sense, to delight in them, to enjoy them, only in such a manner and measure as we know and feel, not to indispose, but to prepare us for the enjoyment of Him. Thus, then, we are called to love God with all our heart. The effects or properties of this love the apostle describes in the chapter before us, in all these being infallible marks, whereby any man may judge himself, whether he hath this love, or hath it not. They deserve our deepest consideration.
Love suffereth long, or is longsuffering. If thou love thy neighbor for God's sake, thou wilt bear long with his infirmities. If he want wisdom, thou wilt pity and not despise him. If he be in error, thou wilt mildly endeavor to recover him, without any sharpness or reproach. If he be overtaken in a fault, thou wilt labor to restore him in the spirit of meekness. And if, happily, that cannot be done soon, thou wilt have patience with him. If God Peradventure may bring him at length to the knowledge and love of the truth. In all provocations, either from the weakness or malice of men, thou wilt show thyself a pattern of gentleness and meekness, and be they ever so often repeated, wilt not be overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.
Let no man deceive you with vain words. He was not thus longsuffering, hath not love. Again, love is kind. Whosoever feels the love of God and man shed abroad in his heart, feels an ardent and uninterrupted thirst after the happiness of all his fellow-creatures. His soul melts away with the very fervent desire which he hath continually to promote it, and out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh. In his tongue is the law of kindness. The same is impressed on all his actions. The flame within is continually working itself away, and spreading abroad more and more, in every instance of good will, to all with whom he hath to do so, so that whether he thinks or speaks, or whatever he does, it all points to the same end, the advancing by every possible way.
The happiness of all his fellow creatures. Deceive not, therefore, your own souls. He who is not thus kind hath not love. Farther, love envieth not. This indeed is implied when it is said, Love is kind. For kindness and envy are inconsistent. They can no more abide together than light and darkness. If we earnestly desire all happiness to all, We cannot be grieved at the happiness of any. The fulfilling of our desire will be sweet to our soul. So far shall we be from being pained at it. If we are always doing what good we can for our neighbor, and wishing we could do more, it is impossible that we should repine at any good he receives. Indeed, it will be the very joy of our heart. However, Then we may flatter ourselves or one another, he that envieth hath not love.
It follows, love wanteth not itself, or rather is not rash or hasty in judging, for this is indeed the true meaning of the word. As many as love their neighbor for God's sake will not easily receive an ill opinion of any to whom they wish all good, spiritual as well as temporal. They cannot condemn him even in their heart without evidence, nor upon slight evidence neither, nor indeed upon any without first, if it be possible, having him and his accuser face to face, or at the least, acquainting him with the accusations, and letting him speak for himself. Every one of you feels that he cannot but act thus with regard to one whom he tenderly loves. Why, then, he who doth not act, thus hath not love?
I only mention one more of the properties of this love. Love is not puffed up. You cannot wrong one you love. Therefore, if you love God with all your heart, you cannot so wrong him as to rob him of his glory. By taking to yourself what is due to him only, you will own that all you are and all you have He said, And if you love your neighbor as yourself, you will not be able to prefer yourself before him. Nay, you will not be able to despise anyone any more than to hate him. Nay, you will think every man better than yourself. As the wax melteth away before the fire, so doth pride melt away before love. All haughtiness, whether of heart, speech, or behavior, vanishes away, where love prevails. It bringeth down the high looks of him who boasted in his strength, and maketh him as a little child.
Diffident of himself, willing to hear, glad to learn, easily convinced, easily persuaded, and whosoever is otherwise minded, let him give up all vain hope. He is puffed up, and so hath not love. Three. It remains to inquire, in what sense it can be said that, though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, Yea, though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. The chief sense of the word is doubtless this, that whatsoever we do, and whatsoever we suffer, if we are not renewed in the spirit of our mind, by the love of God shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto us, we cannot enter into life eternal. None can enter there, unless in virtue of covenant.
Which God hath given unto man in the Son of his love, but because general truths are less apt to affect us, let consider one or two particulars with regard to which all we can do or suffer. If we have not love, profiteth us nothing. And first, all without this profiteth us not, so as to make life happy, nor secondly, so as to make Death comfortable. And first, without love nothing can so profit us as to make our lives happy. By happiness, I mean not a slight, trilling pleasure that perhaps begins and ends in the same hour, but such a state of well-being as contents the soul and gives it a stead, lasting satisfaction, but that nothing without love can profit us as to our present happiness. Will appear from this single consideration.
You cannot want it, in any one single instance, without pain. And the more you depart from it, the pain is the greater. Are you wanting and long-suffering? And so far as you fall short of this, you fall short of happiness. The more the opposite tempers, anger, fretfulness, revenge prevail, the more unhappy you are. You know it. You feel it. Nor can the storm be allayed, or peace ever return to your soul, unless meekness, gentleness, patience, or in one word, love, take possession of it. Does any man find in himself ill will, malice, envy, or any other temper opposite to kindness? Then is misery there, and the stronger the temper, the more miserable he is. If the slothful man may be said to eat his own flesh, much more the malicious or envious.
His soul is the very type of hell, full of torment, as well as wickedness. He hath already the worm that never dieth, and he is hastening to the fire that never can be quenched. Only as yet the great gulf is not fixed between him and heaven. As yet there is a spirit ready to help his infirmities. Who is still willing, if he stretch out his hands to heaven, and bewail his ignorance and misery, to purify his heart from vile affections, and to renew it in the love of God, and so lead him by present up to eternal happiness? Secondly, without love, nothing can make death comfortable. By comfortable, I do not mean stupid or senseless. I would not say he died comfortably, who died by an apoplexy, or by the shot of a cannon, any more than he who, having his conscience seared, died as unconcerned as the beasts that perish.
Neither do I believe that you would envy anyone the comfort of dying raving mad. But by a comfortable death, I mean a calm passage out of life, full of even Rational peace and joy. And such a death, all the acting and all the suffering in the world cannot give without love. To make this still more evident, I cannot appeal to your own experience, but I may to what we have seen and to the experience of others. And two, I have myself seen going out of this life in what I call a comfortable manner, though not with equal comfort. One had evidently more comfort than the other, because he had more love. I attended the first during a great part of his last trial, as well as when he yielded up his soul to God.
He cried out, God thus chastened me with strong pain, but I thank him for all. I bless him for all. I love him for all. When asked not long before his release, Are the consolations of God small with you? He replied aloud, No! No! No! Calling all that were near him by their names, he said, Think of heaven! Talk of heaven! All the time is lost when we are not thinking of heaven. Now this was the voice of love, and so far as that prevailed, all was comfort, peace, and joy. But as his love was not perfect, So neither was his comfort. He had intervals of anger or fretfulness, and therein of misery, giving by both an incontestable proof that love can sweeten both life and death. So when that is either absent from or obscured in the soul, there is no peace or comfort there.
It was in this place That I saw the other good soldier of Jesus Christ grappling with his last enemy, death, and it was indeed a spectacle worthy to be seen of God and angels and men. Some of his last breath was spent in a psalm of praise to him who was then giving him the victory, an assurance whereof he began the triumph, even in the heat of battle, when he was asked, Hast thou the love of God in thy heart? He lifted up his eyes and hands and answered, Yes! Yes! With the whole strength he had left. To one who inquired if he was afraid of the devil, whom he had just mentioned as making his last attack upon him, he replied, No! No! My loving Savior hath conquered every enemy. He is with me. I fear nothing.
Soon after he said, The way to our loving Savior is sharp, but it is short. Nor was it long before he fell into a sort of slumber, wherein his soul sweetly returned to God that gave it. Here, we may observe, was no mixture of any passion or temper contrary to love. Therefore, there was no misery. Perfect love, casting out whatever might have occasioned torment.
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32 32 - On Public Diversions 25:27
On Public Diversions Shall a trumpet be blown in the city, and the people not be afraid? Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it? Amos, chapter 3, verse 6. It is well if there are not too many here who are too nearly concerned in these words of the prophet, the plain sense of which seems to be this. Are there any men in the world so stupid and senseless So utterly devoid of common reason, so careless of their own and their neighbor's safety or destruction, as when an alarm of approaching judgments is given, to show no signs of apprehension, to take no care in order to prevent them, but go on as securely as if no alarm had been given. Do not all men know that whatsoever evil befalls them, it befalls them either by God's appointment, And that he designs every evil of this life to warn men to avoid still greater evils, that he suffers these lighter marks of his displeasure to awaken mankind, so that they may shun his everlasting vengeance, and be timely advised by feeling a part of it, so to change their ways that his whole displeasure may not arise.
I intend speaking on this subject to show, first, That there is no evil in any place, but the hand of the Lord is in it. Secondly, that every uncommon evil is the trumpet of God blown in that place, so that the people may take warning. Thirdly, to consider whether after God hath blown His trumpet in this place, we have been duly afraid. I am, first, to show in a few words That there is no evil in any place, but the hand of the Lord is therein. No evil, that is, no affliction or calamity, whether of a public or of a private nature, whether it concerns only one, or a few persons, or reaches to many, or to all of that place where it comes, whatever circumstance occasions loss or pain to any man or number of men, May in that respect be called an evil, and of such evils the prophet speaks in these words.
Of such evils we are to believe that they never happened but by the knowledge and permission of God, and of every such evil we may say that the Lord hath done it either by His own immediate power, by the strength of His own right hand, or by commanding or else suffering it to be done, By those his servants that do his pleasure. For the Lord is King. Be the people never so impatient. Yea, the great King of all the earth. Whatsoever therefore is done in all the earth, sin only excepted, he doeth it himself. The Lord God omnipotent still reigneth. And all things are so subject unto him that his will must be done. Whether we agree to it or not, as in heaven, so also upon earth. Not only His blessed angels, but all things serve Him in all places of His dominion.
Those wicked spirits which rule the darkness of this world, and those men who are like them, He rules by constraint. The senseless and brute parts of the creation by nature, and those men who are like God by choice. But however it be, with or without their own choice, they all act in obedience to His will, and particularly so when in judgment He remembers mercy, and permits a smaller evil that He may prevent greater. Then, at least, we are to acknowledge the hand of God in whatsoever instrument He makes use of. It makes little difference whether He executes His purpose by the powers of heaven or hell. Or by the mistakes, carelessness, or malice of men. If a destroying angel marches forth against a town or country, it is God who empowers him to destroy.
If bad men distress one or more of their fellow creatures, the ungodly are a sword of His. If fire, hail, wind, or storm be let loose upon the earth, yet they only fulfill His word. So certain it is that there is no evil in any place which the Lord, in this sense, hath not done. I am to prove, secondly, that every uncommon evil is the trumpet of God blown in that place where it comes, that the people may take warning. Every private affliction is doubtless the voice of God, whereby He calls upon that person to flee to Him for succor. But if any extraordinary affliction occurs, especially when many persons are concerned in it, we may not only say that in this God speaks to us, but that the God of glory thundereth.
This voice of the Lord is in power. This voice of the Lord is full of majesty. This demands the deepest attention of all to whom it comes. This loudly claims the most serious consideration. Not only of those to whom it is peculiarly sent, but of all those that are round about them. This, like a voice from heaven, commands that all people should be afraid, should tremble at the presence of God, that everyone should feel and show that religious fear, that sacred awe, of the majesty of God, which is both the beginning and perfection of wisdom. That fear which should make them haste to do whatsoever the Lord their God commands them, and careful not to turn aside from it to the right hand or the left.
It is needless to use many words to prove this, after what has been proved already. For if there be no evil in any place which the Lord hath not done, and if he doth not willingly send evil on any place, but only to warn them to avoid greater evils, Then it is plain that wherever any evil is, it is the trumpet of God blown in that place, to the end that the people may be so afraid as not to continue in anything that displeases them. Then it is plain that in every such merciful evil God speaks to this effect. Oh, that there were such a heart in this people that they would fear Me and keep My commandments always. That it might be well with them and their children after them. Thirdly, what signs we have manifested of this wise and grateful fear, I am now to consider more at large.
First, let us consider how God hath blown His trumpet in this place, and, secondly, whether we have been duly afraid. Let us consider, first, how God hath blown His trumpet among us in this place. And that it might never be forgotten, it were much to be wished not only that parents would tell their children, to the intent that their posterity might know it, and the children that are yet unborn, but also that it were written in our public register for a standing memorial to all generations, that in the very week and on the very day, when that diversion, which hath had a considerable share in turning the Christian world upside down, To have been brought in hither also, such a fire broke out as neither we nor our fathers had seen in this place, a fire which soon spread itself not over one only, but over several dwelling-houses, which so went forth in the fury of its strength that it soon prevailed over the weak resistance made against it, and left only so much standing of most of those buildings Over which it prevailed, as might serve to quicken our remembrance of it.
Let it be told that those who came prepared for another prospect were entertained with that of devouring flames, a prospect which continued during the whole time of the intended diversion, and which was but too plainly to be seen, together with the fiery pillars of smoke which increased its horror from the very place. And doth this trumpet give an uncertain sound? How would you have God speak more plainly? Do you desire that the Lord should also thunder out of heaven? And give hailstones and coals of fire? Nay, rather let us say, It is enough, speak no more, Lord, for Thy servants hear. Those to whom Thou hast most severely spoken are afraid, and who seek Thee with their whole heart. They resolve not to prolong the time, but even now, by Thy gracious assistance, to look well if there be any way of wickedness in them.
And to turn their feet unto the way everlasting, to renounce everything that is evil in thy sight, yea, the sin that doth most easily beset them, and to use their whole diligence for the time to come, to make their calling and election sure. Those to whom thou hast spoken by the misfortune of their neighbors are likewise afraid at thy tokens. And own that it is thy mere goodness that they too and their substance were not consumed. They likewise firmly purpose in themselves to make the true use of thy merciful warning, to labor more and more day by day, to purge themselves from all sin, from every earthly affection, that they may be fit to stand in the presence of that God who is Himself. A consuming fire.
But have we indeed been thus duly afraid? This is now to be considered, and because we cannot see the hearts of others, let us form our judgment from their actions, which will be best done by a plain relation, of which everyone who hears it can easily tell whether it be true or false. In the day following that on which the voice of God had so dreadfully commanded us to exchange our mirth for sadness, the diversion which that had broken off was as eagerly begun anew. Crowds of people flocked out of that very town where the destruction had been wrought the day before and rushed by the place of desolation to the place of entertainment. Here you might see the ground covered with heaps of ruins, mingled with yet unquenched fire.
A little way off, as thickly covered with horses and men, pressing on to see another new sight. On this side were the mourners bewailing the loss of their goods and the necessities of their families. On the other, the feasters delighting themselves with the sport they had gained. Surely, Such a mixture of mirth and sadness, of feasting and mourning, of laughing and weeping, hath not been seen from the day in which our forefathers first came up into this land until yesterday. Such is the fear we have shown of the wrath of God. Thus have we been afraid after He has blown His trumpet among us. These are the signs we have given of our resolution to avoid whatever is displeasing in His sight. Hereby, we approved how we designed to avoid this diversion in particular, which he hath given us so terrible a reason to believe, is far from being pleasing to him.
Not that this is the only reason we have to believe so. Besides this last melancholy argument against it, we have so many others, as any serious Christian would find it a hard task to answer. But I have only time to mention slightly a few of the consequences that were never yet separated from it. Before I mention these, it is not necessary for me to say whether the diversion is sinful in itself, simply considered, or not. If anyone can find a race which has none of these consequences, let him go to it in the name of God, only Till he finds one which does not give occasion to these or the like villainies, let him who nameth the name of Christ have a care of any way encouraging them. One thing more I would have observed, that it is so far from being uncharitable to warn well-meaning people of the tendency of these diversions, that the more clearly and strongly anyone represents it to them, The more charitable to them he is.
This may be made plain by a very easy comparison. You see the wine when it sparkles in the cup and are going to drink it. I tell you, there is poison in it, and therefore beg you to throw it away. You answer, the wine is harmless in itself. I reply, perhaps it is so, but still, if it be mixed with what is not harmless, No one in his senses, if he knows it at least, unless he could separate the good from the bad, will once think of drinking it. If you add, It is not poison to me, though it be to others, then I say, Throw it away for thy brother's sake, lest thou embolden him to drink also. Why should thy strength occasion the weak brother to perish for whom Christ died? Now let anyone judge which is the uncharitable person.
He who pleads against the wine or the diversion for his brother's sake, or he who pleads against the life of his brother for the sake of the wine or the diversions. All the doubt there can be is, is there poison in this diversion which is supposed to be harmless in itself? To clear this up, let us first observe the notorious line that is always joined with it, the various kinds of overreaching and cheating. The horrid oaths and curses that constantly accompany it, wherewith the name of our Lord God, blessed forever, is blasphemed. When or where was this diversion ever known without these dreadful consequences? Who was ever one day present at one of these entertainments without being himself a witness to some of these?
And surely these alone, had we no other ill consequences to charge upon this diversion, But over and above these things we charge it, secondly, with affording the fairest means to exercise and to increase covetousness. This is done by the occasion it gives to all who please to lay wagers with one another, which commonly brings so strong a desire of possessing what is another's, As will hardly cease when that one point is decided, but will be exceedingly likely to leave such a thirst in the mind, as not all the winning in the world will satisfy. And what amends can the trifling sport of a thousand people make for one soul thus corrupted and ruined? Therefore, on this account too, till a way is known to secure all that frequent it from this danger.
Well, may this sport itself be an abomination to him who values one soul more than the whole world. May we not well fear that it is an abomination to the Lord because of a third effect of it, because it is so apt to inflame those passions which he so earnestly commands us to quench, because many people are so heated on such occasions As they never ought to be on any occasion, supposing it possible that a man might be angry and not sin, yet hardly upon such occasions, or in such a degree as those who are angry upon such occasions commonly are. This consequence, too, let him separate from such a diversion who would prevent its being displeasing to God. Till this be done, let no one say, What hurt is there in a horse race?
But if any should still ask that question, we can answer yet more particularly. Are you a young person who desires to go to it? Then it is likely you go either to see or to be seen, to admire other fine sights, or to be admired yourself. The hurt of this is it nourishes that friendship which is enmity with God. It strengthens those affections which are already too strong, the desire of the eye and the pride of life. All such diversions as these are the noblest instruments the devil has to fill the mind with earthly, sensual, devilish passions to make you of a light and trifling spirit, in a word, to make you a lover of pleasure more than a lover of God. Are you, who desire to go to it advanced in years, and therefore less subject to such temptations?
Take heed that your hearts deceive you not, but be it as you suppose. Hath it not done you hurt enough, if it has hindered any of you from partaking of the blessed sacrament? If by preventing either that serious examination, or that private devotion, which you wisely use before you come to it, As occasion, you're neglecting to come to this holy table, and so not only disobeying a plain command of God, but likewise losing all those inestimable advantages which are there reached out to them who obey Him. Are you a rich man that desire to go? Then you have probably given something towards it. That is, you have thrown away that seed which might have borne fruit to eternity. You have thrown away a part of that talent, which, had you rightly improved, you might have been an everlasting gainer by it.
You have utterly lost what God Himself, had you lent it to Him, would richly have repaid you. For you have given it to those who neither need nor perhaps thank you for it, which, if you had bestowed upon your helpless brethren, your blessed Redeemer would have esteemed it as done unto Himself. And would have treated you accordingly at the great day. Are you a poor man, who has gone or given anything to this diversion? Then it has done you most hurt of all. It has made you throw away, for an idle sport abroad, what your wife and family wanted at home. If so, you have denied the faith, and are far worse than an infidel. But suppose it costs you no money. Was it not hurt enough if it cost you any of your time?
What had you to do to run after trifling diversions when you ought to have been employed in honest labor? Surely, if the rich think, God hath given them more than they want, though it will be well if they do not one day think otherwise. Yet you have no temptation to think so. Sufficient for your day is the labor thereof. I have but a few words to add. And those I speak, not to them who are unwilling to hear, whose affections are set upon this world, and therefore their eyes are blinded by it, but I speak to them in whom is an understanding heart and a discerning spirit, who, if they have formerly erred, are now resolved, by the grace of God, to return no more to the error of their ways, but for the time come not only to avoid, But also earnestly to oppose whatever is contrary to the will of God.
To these I say, are you young? So much the rather scorn all employments that are useless, but much more if they are sinful. For you are they whose wisdom and glory it is to remember your Creator in the days of your youth. Are you elder? So much the rather bestow all the time which you can spare from the necessary business of life in preparing yourself and those about you for their entrance into a better life. For your day is far spent, your night is at hand. Redeem, therefore, the little time you have left. Are you rich? Then you have particular reason to labor, that you may be rich in good works. For you are they to whom much is given. Not to throw away, but to use well and wisely, and of you much shall be required.
Are ye poor? Then you have particular reason to work with your hands, that you may provide for your own household. Nor when you have done this have you done all, for then you are to labor that you may give to him that needeth, not to him that needeth diversions, But to him that needeth the necessaries of nature, that needeth clothes to cover him, food to support his life, or a house where to lay his head, what remains but that we labor one and all, young and old, rich and poor, to wipe off the past scandal from our town and people, first, by opposing to the utmost for the time to come, by word and deed, Among our friends, and all we have to do with, this unhappy diversion which has such terribly hurtful consequences, by doing all we possibly can to hinder its coming among us any more.
And secondly, by showing all the mercy we can to our afflicted neighbors, according as God hath prospered us, and by this timely relief of them, Laying up for ourselves a good foundation against the day of necessity. Thirdly, by our constant attendance on God's public service and blessed sacrament, and our watchful, charitable, and pious life. Thus giving the noblest proof before men and angels that although even after we were troubled, we went wrong, yet upon more deeply considering how God hath blown His trumpet among us, We were afraid. We then shall say with an awakened heart, Behold, the Lord our God hath shown us his glory and his greatness. And we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire.
Now, therefore, while time is, let us put away far from us every accursed thing. For if we hear this voice of the Lord our God any more, then we shall die. End of section 32. Recorded by Alvin Price.
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33 33 - On the Holy Spirit 35:03
On the Holy Spirit.
Now the Lord is that Spirit. The Apostle had been showing how the Gospel ministry was superior to that of the Law, the time being now come when types and shadows should be laid aside, and we should be invited to our duty by the manly and ingenuous motives of a clear and full revelation, open and free on God's part, And not at all disguised by his ambassadors. But what he chiefly insists upon is not the manner, but the subject of their ministry. Who hath made us able ministers, saith he, of the New Testament, not of the letter, but of the Spirit? For the letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life. Here lies the great difference between the two dispensations. That the law was indeed spiritual, In its demands, requiring a life consecrated to God in the observance of many rules, but not conveying spiritual assistance, its effect was only to kill and mortify man, by giving him to understand that he must needs be in a state of great depravity, since he found it so difficult to obey God.
And that as particular deaths were by that institution inflicted for particular sins, so death in general was but the consequence of his universal sinfulness. But the ministration of the New Testament was that of a spirit which giveth life, a spirit not only promised, but actually conferred, which should both enable Christians now to live unto God, and fulfill precepts even more spiritual than the former. And restore them hereafter to perfect life, after the ruins of sin and death. The incarnation, preaching, and death of Jesus Christ were designed to represent, proclaim, and purchase for us this gift of the Spirit. And therefore, says the apostle, The Lord is that Spirit, or the Spirit. This description of Christ was a proper inducement to Jews to believe in Him.
And it is still a necessary instruction to Christians to regulate their expectations from Him. But we think this age has made it particularly necessary to be well assured what Christ is to us. When that question is so differently resolved by the pious but weak accounts of some pretenders to faith on one hand, and by the clearer but not perfectly Christian accounts of some pretenders to reason on the other, While some derive from him a righteousness of God, but in a sense somewhat improper and figurative, and others no more than a charter of pardon and a system of morality. While some so interpret the gospel as to place the holiness they are to be saved by in something divine, but exterior to themselves, and others so as to place it in things really within themselves, but not more than human.
Now the proper cure of what indistinctness there is one way, and what infidelity in the other, seems to be contained in the doctrine of my text, The Lord is that Spirit. Entreating of which words I will consider, I, the nature of our fall in Adam, by which it will appear that if the Lord were not that Spirit, he could not be said to save or redeem us from our fallen condition. Two. I will consider the person of Jesus Christ, by which it will appear that the Lord is that Spirit. And three. I will inquire into the nature and operations of the Holy Spirit as bestowed upon Christians.
One. I am to consider the nature of our fallen Adam. Our first parents did enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit, for they were created in the image and likeness of God. which was no other than His Spirit. By that He communicates Himself to His creatures, and by that alone they can bear any likeness to Him. It is indeed His life in them, and so properly divine, that upon this ground angels and regenerate men are called His children. But when man would not be guided by the Holy Spirit, it left him. When he would be wise in his own way, and in his own strength, and did not depend in simplicity upon his heavenly Father, the seed of a superior life was recalled from him. For he was no longer fit to be formed into a heavenly condition, when he had so unworthy a longing for, or rather dependence upon, an earthly fruit, which he knew God would not bless to him.
No longer fit to receive supernatural succors, when he could not be content with his happy state towards God, without an over-curious examination into it. Then he found himself forsaken of God, and left to the poverty, weakness, and misery of his own proper nature. He was now a mere animal, like unto other creatures made of flesh and blood, but only possessed of a larger understanding. By means of which he should either be led into greater absurdities than they could be guilty of, or else be made sensible of his lost happiness, and put into the right course for regaining it. That is, if he continued a careless apostate, he should love and admire the goods of this world, the adequate happiness only of animals, and to recommend them and dissemble their defects, Add all the ornament to them that his superior wit could invent, or else, which is indeed more above brutes, but no nearer the perfection of man as a partaker of God than the other, he should frame a new world to himself, in theory.
Sometimes by warm imaginations, and sometimes by cool reasonings, endeavor to aggrandize his condition, and defend his practice, or at least divert himself from feeling his own meanness and disorder. If, on the other hand, he should be willing to find out the miseries of his fall, his understanding might furnish him with reasons for constant mourning, for despising and denying himself, might point out the sad effects of turning away from God and losing his spirit. In the shame and anguish of a nature at variance with itself, Thirsting after immortality, and yet subject to death. Approving righteousness, and yet taking pleasure in things inconsistent with it. Feeling an immense want of something to perfect and satisfy all its faculties, and yet neither able to know what that mighty thing is, other than from its present defects, nor how to attain it, otherwise than by going contrary to its present inclinations.
Well might Adam now find himself naked. Nothing less than God was departed from him. Till then he had experienced nothing but the goodness and sweetness of God. A heavenly life spread itself through his whole frame, as if he were not made of dust. His mind was filled with angelic wisdom. A direction from above took him by the hand. He walked and thought uprightly, and seemed not to be a child or novice in divine things. But now he had other things to experience, something in his soul that he did not find, nor need to fear, while he was carried on straightforward by the gentle gale of divine grace, something in his body that he could not see nor complain of, while that body was covered with glory.
He feels there a self-displeasure, turbulence, and confusion. Such as is common to other spirits who have lost God. He sees here causes of present shame and of future dissolution, and a strong engagement to the groveling life which is common to animals that never enjoyed the divine nature. The general character, therefore, of man's present state is death, a death from God whereby we no longer enjoy any intercourse with Him, or happiness in Him. We no longer shine with His glory, or act with His powers. It is true, while we have a being, in Him we must live, and move, and have our being. But this we do now, not in a filial way, but only in a servile one, as all, even the meanest creatures, exist in Him.
It is one thing to receive from God an ability to walk and speak, eat and digest, To be supported by His hand as part of this earthly creation, and upon the same terms with it, for farther trial or vengeance. And another, to receive from Him a life which is His own likeness, to have within us something which is not of this creation, and which is nourished by His own immediate word and power. Yet this is not the whole that is implied in man's sin. For he has not only inclined himself to all the sottiness of appetite, and all the pride of reason, but he has fallen under the tutorage of the evil one, who mightily furthers him in both. The state he was at first placed in was a state of the most simple subjection to God, and this entitled him to drink of his spirit.
But when he, not content to be actually in paradise, under as full a light of God's countenance as he was capable of, must know good and evil, and be satisfied upon rational grounds whether it was best for him to be as he was or not. When disdaining to be directed as a child, he must weigh everything himself, and seek better evidence than the voice of his Maker, and the seal of the Spirit in his heart. Then he not only obeyed, but became like to the eldest son of pride, and was unhappily entitled to frequent visits, or rather a continued influence from him. As life was annexed to his keeping the command, and accordingly that spirit which alone could form it under true life dwelt in his body, So, being sentenced to death for his transgression, he was now delivered unto him who has the power of death, that is, the devil, whose hostile and unkindly impressions promote death and sin at once.
This being the state of man, if God should send him a Redeemer, what must that Redeemer do for him? Will it be sufficient for him to be the promulgator of a new law? To give us a set of excellent precepts? No. If we could keep them, that alone would not make us happy. A good conscience brings a man the happiness of being consistent with himself, but not that of being raised above himself into God, which every person will find, after all, is the thing he wants. Shall he be the fountain of an imputed righteousness, and procure the tenderest favour to all his followers? This is also not enough. Though a man should be allowed to be righteous, and to be exempt from all punishment, yet if he is as really enslaved to the corruptions of nature as endued with these privileges of redemption, he can hardly make himself easy.
And whatever favor he can receive from God, here or hereafter, without a communication of himself, it is neither the cure of a spirit fallen, nor the happiness of one reconciled. Must not then our Redeemer be, according to the character which St. John, his forerunner, gave of him, one that baptizeth with the Holy Ghost, the fountain and restorer of that to mankind, whereby they are restored to their first estate and the enjoyment of God? And this is a presumptive argument that the Lord is that Spirit.
Two. But it will appear more plainly that he is so from the second thing proposed, which was the consideration of the person of Jesus Christ. He was one to whom God gave not the Spirit by measure, but in him dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead bodily, and of his fulness we have all received, and grace for grace. Indeed, all the communications of the Godhead which any creature could receive were always from him as the word of God. But all that mankind now in an earthly state were to receive must be from him by means of that body, at first mortal like unto theirs, and then glorious in the likeness of God, which he took upon him for their sake. In the beginning the heavenly word, being a spirit that issued from the Father and the word of his power, made man an image of immortality.
According to the likeness of the Father. But he who had been made in the image of God, afterwards became mortal, when the more powerful spirit was separated from him. To remedy this, the word became man, that man, by receiving the adoption, might become a son of God once more, that the light of the Father might rest upon the flesh of our Lord, and come bright from thence unto us. And so man, being encompassed with the light of the Godhead, might be carried into immortality. When he was incarnate, and became man, he recapitulated in himself all generations of mankind, making himself the centre of our salvation, that what we lost in Adam, even the image and likeness of God, we might receive in Christ Jesus.
By the Holy Ghost coming upon Mary, and the power of the highest overshadowing her, the incarnation of Christ was wrought, and a new birth whereby man should be born of God was shown, that as by our first birth we did inherit death, so by this birth we might inherit life. This is no other than what St. Paul teaches us. The first man, Adam, was made a living soul, but the second Adam was made a quickening spirit. All that the first man possessed of himself, all that he has transmitted to us, is a living soul, a nature endued with an animal life, and receptive of a spiritual. But the second Adam is, and was made to us, a quickening spirit, by a strength from him as our Creator. We are at first raised above ourselves.
By a strength from him as our Redeemer, we shall again live unto God. In him is laid up for us that supplement to our nature, which we shall find the need of sooner or later, and that it cannot be countervailed by any assistance from the creatures, or any improvement of our own faculties. For we were made to be happy only in God, and all our labors and hopes, while we do not thirst after our deified state, To partake as truly of God as we do of flesh and blood, to be glorified in His nature as we have been dishonored in our own, are the labors and hopes of those who utterly mistake themselves. The divine wisdom knew what was our proper consolation, though we did not. What does more obviously present itself in the Savior of the world than an union of man with God?
An union attended with all propriety of behavior that we are called to as candidates of the Spirit, such as walking with God in singleness of heart, perfect self-renunciation, and a life of sufferings. An union which submitted to the necessary stages of our progress, where the divine life was hid, for the most part, in the secret of the soul till death. In the state of separation comforted the soul, but did not raise it above the intermediate region of paradise. At the resurrection clothed the body with heavenly qualities and powers of immortality, and at last raised it to the immediate presence and right hand of the Father. Christ is not only God above us, which may keep us in awe, but cannot save.
But He is Emmanuel. God with us and in us. As He is the Son of God, God must be where He is. And as He is the Son of Man, He will be with mankind. The consequence of this is that in the future age, the tabernacle of God will be with men, and He will show them His glory, and at present He will dwell in their hearts by faith in His Son. I hope it sufficiently appears that the Lord is that Spirit, considering what we are and what we have been. Nothing less than the receiving that Spirit again would be redemption to us. And considering who that heavenly person was that was sent to be our Redeemer, we can expect nothing less from Him. Three. I proceed now to the third thing proposed. To wit, to inquire into the nature and operations of the Holy Spirit as bestowed upon Christians.
And here I shall pass by the particular extraordinary gifts vouchsafed to the first ages for the edification of the Church, and only consider what the Holy Spirit is to every believer, for His personal sanctification and salvation. It is not granted to everyone to raise the dead and heal the sick. What is most necessary is to be sure as to ourselves that we are passed from death unto life, to keep our bodies pure and undefiled, and let them reap that health which flows from magnanimous patience and the serene joys of devotion. The Holy Spirit has enabled men to speak with tongues and to prophesy, but the light that most necessarily attends it is a light to discern the fallacies of flesh and blood, to reject the irreligious maxims of the world, and to practice those degrees of trust in God and love to men, whose foundation is not so much in the present appearance of things as in some that are yet to come.
The object which this light brings us most immediately to know is ourselves, and by virtue of this, one that is born of God, and has lively hope, may indeed see far into the ways of providence, and farther yet into the holy scriptures. For the holy scriptures, excepting some accidental and less necessary parts, are only a history of that new man which he himself is, and providence is only a wise disposal of events for the awakening of particular persons and ripening the world in general for the coming of Christ's kingdom. But I think the true notion of the Spirit is, that it is some portion of, as well as preparation for, a life in God, which we are to enjoy hereafter. The gift of the Holy Spirit looks full to the resurrection, for then is the life of God completed in us.
Then, after man has passed through all the penalties of sin, the drudgery and vanity of human life, the painful reflections of an awakened mind, the infirmities and dissolution of the body, and all the sufferings and mortifications a just God shall lay in His way, When by this means he has come to know God and himself, he may safely be entrusted with true life, with the freedom and ornaments of a child of God, for he will no more arrogate anything to himself. Then shall the Holy Spirit be fully bestowed, when the flesh shall no longer resist it, but be itself changed into an angelical condition, being clothed upon with the incorruption of the Holy Spirit. When the body which by being born with the soul and living through it could only be called an animal one shall now become spiritual, whilst by the Spirit it rises into eternity.
Everything in Christianity is some kind of anticipation of something that is to be at the end of the world. If the apostles were to preach by their master's command that the kingdom of God drew nigh, the meaning was that from henceforth all men should fix their eyes on that happy time foretold by the prophets, when the Messiah should come and restore all things, that by renouncing their worldly conversation and submitting to the gospel institution, they should fit themselves for hasten. Now we are the sons of God, as St. John tells us, and yet what He imparts to us at present will hardly justify that title, without taking in that fullness of His image, which shall then be displayed in us, when we shall be the children of God by being the children of the resurrection.
True believers, then, are entered upon a life the sequel of which they know not. For it is a life hid with Christ in God. He, the forerunner, hath attained the end of it, being gone unto the Father. But we can know no more of it than appeared in him while he was upon earth. And even that we shall not know but by following his steps, which, if we do, we shall be so strengthened and renewed day by day in the inner man, that we shall desire no comfort from the present world through a sense of the joy set before us. Though as to the outward man we shall be subject to distresses and decays, and treat it as the offscouring of all things. Well may a man ask his own heart whether it is able to admit the Spirit of God.
For where that divine guest enters, the laws of another world must be observed. The body must be given up to martyrdom. Or spent in the Christian warfare as unconcernedly as if the soul were already provided of its house from heaven. The goods of this world must be parted with as freely as if the last fire were to seize them tomorrow. Our neighbor must be loved as heartily as if he were washed from all sins and demonstrated to be a child of God by the resurrection from the dead. The fruits of this spirit must not be mere moral virtues, calculated for the comfort and decency of the present life, but holy dispositions, suitable to the instincts of a superior life already begun. Thus to press forward, whither the promise of life calls him, to turn his back upon the world and comfort himself in God.
Every one that has faith perceives to be just and necessary, and forces himself to do it. Every one that has hope does it gladly and eagerly, though not without difficulty. But he that has love does it with ease and singleness of heart. The state of love, being attended with joy unspeakable, and full of glory, with rest from the passions and vanities of man, with the integrity of an unchangeable judgment, and an undivided will, is in a great measure its own reward, yet not so as to supersede the desire of another world. For though such a man, having a free and insatiable love of that which is good, may seldom have need formerly to propose to himself the hopes of retribution, In order to overcome his unwillingness to his duty, yet surely he must long for that which is best of all, and feel a plain attraction towards that country in which he has his place and station already assigned him, and join in the earnest expectation of all creatures which wait for the manifestation of the sons of God.
For now we obtain but some part of his spirit to model and fit us for incorruption. that we may, by degrees, be accustomed to receive and carry God within us, and therefore the apostle calls it the earnest of the spirit, that is, a part of that honor which is promised us by the Lord. If therefore the earnest abiding in us makes us spiritual even now, and that which is mortal is, as it were, swallowed up of immortality, How shall it be when, rising again, we shall see him face to face, when all our members shall break forth into songs of triumph, and glorify him who hath raised them from the dead, and granted them everlasting life? For if this earnest or pledge, embracing man into itself, makes him now cry, Abba, Father, What shall the whole grace of the Spirit do, when, being given at length to believers, it shall make us like unto God, and perfect us through the will of the Father?
And thus I have done what was at first proposed. I have considered the nature of our fallen Adam, the person of Jesus Christ, and the operations of the Holy Spirit in Christians. The only inference I will draw from what has been said, and principally from the account of man's fall, shall be the reasonableness of those precepts of self-denial, daily suffering, and renouncing the world, which are so peculiar to Christianity, and which are the only foundation whereon the other virtues, recommended in the New Testament, can be practised or attained, in the sense there intended. This inference is so natural that I could not help anticipating it in some measure all the while. One would think it should be no hard matter to persuade a creature to abhor the badges of his misery, to dislike a condition or mansion which only banishment and disgrace have assigned him, to trample on the grandeur, refuse the comforts, and suspect the wisdom of a life whose nature it is to separate him from his God.
Your Saviour bids you hate your own life. If you ask the reason, Enter into your heart, see whether it be holy and full of God, or whether, on the other hand, many things that are contrary to him are wrought there, and it is become a plantation of the enemy. Or, if this is too nice an inquiry, look upon your body. Do you find there the brightness of an angel, all the vigor of immortality? If not, be sure your soul is in the same degree of poverty, nakedness, and absence from God. It is true your soul may sooner be re-admitted to some rays of the light of God's countenance than your body can, but if you would take any step at all towards it, to dislike your present self must be the first. You want a reason why you should renounce the world.
Indeed, you cannot see the prints of it walking up and down. seeking whom he may devour. And you may be so far ignorant of his devices as not to know that they take place, as well in the most specious measures of business and learning, as in the wildest pursuits of pleasure. But this, however, you cannot but see, that the world is not still a paradise of God, guarded and ennobled with the light of glory. It is indeed a place where God has determined He will not appear to you at best, but leave you in a state of hope, that you shall see His face when this world is dissolved. However, there is a way to rescue ourselves, in great measure, from the ill consequences of our captivity, and our Savior has taught us that way.
It is by suffering. We must not only suffer many things, as He did, and so enter into our glory, But we must also suffer many things that we may get above our corruption at present, and enjoy the Holy Spirit. The world no longer has any power over us, than we have a quick relish of its comforts, and suffering abates that. Suffering is, indeed, a direct confutation of the pretences which the flattering tempter gains us by. For I am in human life, and if that life contains such soft ease, ravishing pleasure, glorious eminence as you promise, why am I thus? Is it because I have not yet purchased riches to make me easy, or the current accomplishments to make me considerable? Then I find that all the comfort you promise is by leading me off from yourself.
But I will rather enter deep into my own condition, bad as it is. Perhaps I shall be nearer God, the eternal truth, in feeling sorrows and miseries that are personal and real, than in feeling comforts that are not so. I begin already to find that all my grievances centre in one point. There is always at the bottom one great loss or defect, which is not the want of friends or gold, of health or philosophy. And the abiding sense of this may possibly become a prayer in the ears of the Most High, a prayer not resulting from a set of speculative notions, but from the real, undissembled state of all that is within me, nor indeed so explicit a prayer as to describe the thing I want, but, considering how strange a want mine is, as explicit a one as I can make.
Since then suffering opens me a door of hope, I will not put it from me as long as I live. It helps me to a true discovery of one period of my existence, though it is a low one, and bids fairer for having some connection with a more glorious period that may follow, than the arts of indulgence, the amusements of pride and sloth, and all the dark policy of this world which wage war with the whole truth that man must know and feel before he can look towards God. It may be, while I continue on the cross, I shall, like my Saviour, put off principalities and powers, recover myself more and more from the subjection I am indeed in, which he only seemed to be, to those wicked rulers, and to triumph over them in it.
At least it shall appear in the day when God shall visit that my heart, though grown unworthy of his residence, was too big to be comforted by any of his creatures, and was kept for him as a place originally sacred, though for the present unclean. But supposing that our state does require of us to die daily, to sacrifice all that this present life can boast of, or is delighted with before we give up life itself, Supposing also that in the hour we do somewhat of this kind, we receive light and strength from God to grow superior to our infirmities, and are carried smoothly towards Him in the joy of the Holy Ghost. Yet how can man have such frequent opportunities of suffering? Indeed, martyrdoms do not happen in every age, and some days of our lives may pass without reproaches from men.
We may be in health and not want food to eat. and raiment to put on, though health itself and nutrition itself obliges to the pain of a constant correction of them. Yet still the love of God and heavenly hope will not want something to oppress them in this world. Let a man descend calmly into his heart, and see if there be no root of bitterness springing up, whether at least his thoughts, which are ever in motion, do not sometimes sally out into projects suggested by pride. or sink into indolent trifling, or be entangled in mean anxiety. Does not he find a motion of anger, or of gaiety, leavening him in an instant throughout, depriving him of the meekness and steady discernment he laboured after?
Or let him but conceive at any time that unfeigned obedience and watchful zeal and dignity of behaviour which is suitable, I do not say to an angel, but to a sinner that has a good hope through grace, an endeavor to work himself up to it. And if he find no sort of obstacle to this within him, he has indeed then no opportunity of suffering. In short, if he is such an abject sort of creature as will, unless grace should do him a perpetual violence, relapse frequently into a course of thinking and acting entirely without God. Then he can never want occasions of suffering, but will find his own nature to be the same burden to him as that faithless and perverse generation was to our Savior, of whom he said, How long shall I be with you?
How long shall I suffer you? I will conclude all with that excellent collect of our church. O God, who in all ages has taught the hearts of thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit, Grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in His holy comfort, through the merits of Jesus Christ our Savior, who liveth and reigneth with Thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.