III. That the imputed righteousness of Christ is of itself perfect and
sufficient. This is plainly the truth denied in the decree above quoted.
Justification is there ascribed in part to the imputation of Christ’s
righteousness, but this alone is said to be insufficient. The article of
our church and this decree have evident reference to each other. The
article says “We are accounted righteous before God _only_ for the merit
of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” The Council of Trent “If any man
shall say that men are justified by the _sole_ imputation of Christ’s
righteousness, let him be accursed.” The turning point, therefore, of
the whole question is the _complete_ sufficiency of the work of Christ.
1. Consider, then, his atonement. {31} “He died, the just for the
unjust, to bring us to God.” He was our substitute, he took our place,
he endured the curse of our guilt, “he bare our sins in his own body on
the tree.” Was the price sufficient, or was it not? Was the substitute
accepted, or was it not? Was the law satisfied, or was it not? If it
was, the atonement was complete, the believer free, and no further
justification through righteousness can be required. If not, of this one
thing I am persuaded, that nothing we can do can supply the deficiency of
the work of Jesus. No tears, no toils, no fastings, penances, or alms
deeds can supply that which is lacking in the price paid for the sinner.
If we were to weep till the ocean overflowed with the swelling tide of
penitential tears, it would avail less than one single drop of the most
precious blood of God’s well beloved Son. If we were to lacerate the
body with fastings and self-inflicted sufferings, till the very life sunk
under the penance, it would procure no gift that is not already
purchased, it could satisfy no law that is not already satisfied by the
life of Jesus.
2. Consider also the imputed righteousness of Christ. He made himself
one of us, and became our substitute on the cross. As our
representative, He bore our sins in his own body, and as our
representative He is now at the right hand of God. God punished our sins
in Him upon the cross. God accepts us in Him as his ransomed people.
Our sins were placed to his account, and his righteousness to ours. This
explains 2 Cor. v. 21, “For he hath made him to be sin for us who knew no
sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” He was not
made really sinful, but sin was imputed to him; he was reckoned as a
sinner; he bore the sinner’s curse. But we are made the righteousness of
God in the same sense in which he was made sin; that is, righteousness is
imputed to us, we are reckoned righteous, we are made heirs of the
Redeemer’s glory. Now this righteousness is indeed a justifying
righteousness: it is the righteousness of Christ, the righteousness of
God, perfect in every thought, perfect from eternity. For ever, and for
ever, has he been one with God, and never for one single moment, has one
single tainted thought dared to intrude on the heavenly holiness of his
most holy soul. Now if this righteousness be imputed to us, what can
ours add to it? If we be justified by Christ’s merit, how is it possible
that we should be any longer justified by our own? Can ours add to his?
Can it supply any defects in his? Can we make up a patchwork
righteousness, partly his, and partly ours? The very holiest act of the
very holiest of men would be like a spot upon the sun, a stain and
blemish to the perfect brilliancy of the holiness of Jesus.
Now that is the justifying righteousness of the believer. In Christ we
stand, in Christ we are accepted, in Christ the law is satisfied, in
Christ we are free from the curse, in Christ we have peace with God—so in
Christ, and in Christ alone, must the true believer look for life.
Away, then, with all false thoughts of human merit; away with the deadly
heresy that man by inherent excellence can recommend himself to God; away
with the self-exalting notion that any man, at any time, can stand in any
other attitude than that of a convicted sinner, freely pardoned through
the blood of the Lamb. We will strive to please him, we will press on
along the path of life, we will spare nothing that we may walk with God.
We will long for the day when Christ’s image shall be formed in
perfection within the soul. But, meanwhile, we will rest on his
atonement, on his righteousness alone: and though worldly men may count
it folly, though self-righteous men may deem it frenzy, though Rome may
hurl against us the thunder of her anathemas, we will believe, and
believe to our everlasting peace and joy, that “God hath made him to be
sin for us”; and that by that one act, without the smallest human merit,
“We are made the righteousness of God in him.”
SERMON III.
PURGATORY.
LUKE xxiii. 43.
And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be
with me in paradise.
HAVE you ever stood by the bedside of a dying believer? ever watched the
decaying strength of some dear object of your fondest love? Then you
know the deep emotions of that solemn moment, when, in the stillness of
the chamber of death, the heavy breathing ceases, and the happy spirit
wings its flight to God. What conflicting feelings then struggle for
mastery in the heart! Faith, joy, doubt, and sorrow, seem in turn to
take possession of the soul: nay, rather! they all reign there at once:
we mourn in widowhood, but acquiesce in faith: we look on our own life as
desolate through separation; but, thinking on the present glory of the
departed, we cannot withhold a glad Amen from Cowper’s lines upon his
mother.
But oh! the thought that thou art safe and he!
That thought is joy, arise what may to me.
Yes it is a joy! a mournful joy, but a joy unutterable; a joy that draws
from the same eye tears of rejoicing, and tears of grief; a joy which,
strange to say, melts us into sadness, while it gives a calm, holy,
peaceful satisfaction from the full and complete assurance that those we
love most are for ever safe with Jesus. This joy is the birthright of
God’s faithful children; and this the balm with which in our funeral
service, we strive to staunch the mourner’s tears. Who that has ever
wept beside the open grave can fail to remember those hallowed words: “I
heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, from henceforth, blessed
are the dead which die in the Lord, even so saith the Spirit, for they
rest from their labours”?
But the Church of Rome, at one fatal blow, robs us of all this; and in
the Catechism of the Council of Trent, declares, {35a} “Besides (hell,)
there is a fire of purgatory, in which the souls of the pious being
tormented for a definite time, expiate their sin, that so an entrance may
be opened to them, into the eternal country, into which nothing defiled
can enter.”
You will here observe four things.