instructive example of the fatal consequences which result from an
unbelief or distrust of the providential power and goodness of GOD.
Contrary to the express command of the Almighty, contrary to the spirit
of that dispensation, which inculcated an absolute and implicit reliance
upon Heaven in all dangers and difficulties, yea, contrary to an happy
experience of the most signal interpositions of Omnipotence; David had
rashly issued a commission to the general and officers of his host, to
go through all the tribes of Israel, and take a particular and exact
account of the numbers of his people. Such a flagrant instance of
unfaithfulness to his GOD, after so many merciful deliverances received,
drew upon him a most severe chastisement. To humble the haughtiness of
his spirit, and convince him of the folly of depending upon the arm of
flesh, instead of taking the most HIGH GOD for his shield and defence, a
messenger of vengeance was immediately sent forth. From Dan even to
Beersheba, he marked his progress with carnage and desolation: seventy
thousand men, within the space of a few hours, fell a sacrifice to the
devouring pestilence. He soon reached the beloved city, and was
preparing to pour his phial of wrath upon the mount of GOD. The eyes of
the unhappy monarch were now opened: he saw the destroying angel,
humbled himself in the dust, acknowledged his guilt, and deprecated the
further progress of the contagion. "Lo, I have sinned, and I have done
wickedly: but these sheep, what have they done?" Omnipotence arrested
the Angel in his progress: "It is enough--stay now thine hand." And
David was directed by the prophet Gad, to rear an altar unto the LORD,
on the very spot where the pestilence had ceased. This spot was the
threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite.
Deeply sensible of the greatness of his deliverance, the king
immediately proceeded to execute the divine command. Araunah discovered
him at a distance; and with all the submission of a conquered and
tributary prince, hastened to meet him, and "bowed himself before the
king on his face to the ground." "And Araunah said, Wherefore is my lord
the king come unto his servant?" And David said, "To buy the
threshing-floor of thee, to build an altar unto the LORD, that the
plague may be stayed from the people." Araunah, as a king, with a
princely generosity of spirit, immediately offered him, not only the
threshing-floor, but also his oxen for the sacrifice, and his threshing
instruments for wood. "And the king said unto Araunah, Nay, but I will
surely buy it of thee at a price; neither will I offer burnt-offerings
unto the LORD my GOD, of that which doth cost me nothing." The plain and
obvious meaning of which is undoubtedly this:
Hath GOD favoured me with such an astonishing deliverance? Hath he
manifested his goodness and loving-kindness in withdrawing his
chastising hand, pardoning my guilt, and sparing me and my people from
utter destruction? Surely, then, I will not grudge, the trifling expence
of erecting, upon this spot, a monument of his love. Surely I will not
accept of the labours of another, or testify my gratitude by
burnt-offerings and sacrifices at another's expence. The least I can do
is, to make such an acknowledgment, and in such a manner, as will best
evidence my sense of the obligation, and the honour that is due to my
Almighty Deliverer.
Those who look beyond the letter and the outward history, will readily
discern the state of David's mind. They will readily discern this
outward action of his, though adapted to the outward dispensation under
which he lived, to be highly expressive of that great and fundamental
principle, which every dispensation of Truth, from the fall of man down
to this very day, hath strongly inculcated, viz. that true religion is
an inward life, that cannot rest in external appearances, but manifests
itself in an absolute unlimited surrender of the whole man to his
Creator. This can never be accomplished without considerable cost and
expence on the part of the creature, inasmuch as his will and affections
must first be drawn off from all that variety of imaginations, desires
and enjoyments, to which his fallen nature strongly allures, and deeply
enslaves him.
Hence it is, that our BLESSED LORD makes the very first duty of
discipleship to consist in "denying ourselves, taking up our cross, and
following him:" that is to say, in bearing, with meekness, the necessary
evils of our fallen life, resisting and overcoming its sinful
suggestions, and humbly waiting for and co-operating with his Spirit
revealed in our hearts.
This is the spiritual warfare, the struggle betwixt the "law in the
members," and the "law of the mind;" the fighting "not only against
flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers," in which we are
all summoned to engage. The whole burnt-offering and sacrifice, the
whole price which this must cost us, is nothing less than the turning
our wills, with the whole tide of our affections, from the evil to the
good principle within us. And that GOD through CHRIST hath given us
ability to do this, will appear from the following considerations:
The will of man, as coming forth from the Eternal Will of GOD, must be
eternally and essentially free. The will of the fallen angels in hell,
was as free as that of the highest archangel now in heaven:
Freely they stood, who stood; and fell, who fell.
The whole difference betwixt them consists in this, that the will of
those who fell, is freely turned to evil; the will of those who stood,
is freely turned to GOD and Goodness.
Man stands in an intermediate state, betwixt light and darkness, betwixt
life and death, betwixt heaven and hell. The whole tenor of Scripture,
from beginning to end, represents him in this critical situation;
represents his Heavenly Father, as calling to him and inviting him to
"eschew evil, and to do good;" to "love light rather than darkness;" to
"come to him, that he may have life." All which certainly implies, that
GOD, by his Grace, hath given him a power of choosing, and has made his
salvation or destruction to proceed from himself, and not from any
predetermining divine decree.
JESUS CHRIST is always spoken of, as a freely given Saviour; but
salvation, as "a treasure to be purchased, as a race to be run, as a
battle to be fought, as a work to be accomplished, even with fear and
trembling." The power or capacity of being saved, the whole merit of
salvation, comes from CHRIST; the using of this power, the availing
ourselves of this merit, from ourselves. "Why WILL YE die, O house of
Israel? TURN YOURSELVES, and live ye. Ye WILL NOT come to me, that ye
might have life. How often would I have gathered you, as a hen gathereth
her chickens under her wings, and ye WOULD NOT!"
Upon this principle of forsaking sin, and turning our will to Goodness,
are founded all those Gospel precepts, which speak of "crucifying the
flesh with its affections and lusts, destroying the old man, dying to
sin, suffering with CHRIST, cutting off a right hand, plucking out a
right eye, passing through much tribulation;" all which plainly shews,
that True Religion is a perpetual sacrifice; and that this sacrifice
cannot be "offered to the LORD our GOD, of that which doth cost us
nothing;" that the price will be far more, than "fifty shekels of
silver," the purchase of Araunah's threshing-floor and implements; yea,
that it will be no less than the "whole body of sin," which we carry
about us, with all its affections and lusts; which we must, with
meekness and humility, surrender to our BLESSED REDEEMER, to be burnt up
and consumed upon the fire of his altar.
Having thus endeavoured to establish this fundamental principle, that
"true religion is a costly and a perpetual sacrifice;" let us now, to
prevent any dangerous deception, turn our eyes to those false
appearances of it, which we frequently meet with in the world, which are
very easily assumed, and which cost nothing.
The man of moral honesty first steps forth, and puts in his claim to the
character of religious. He looks upon any Revelation from Heaven to be
quite unnecessary; and, with all the forwardness and presumption of his
own blind reason, pronounces those books, which Christians believe to be
of Divine Authority, to be idle and chimerical. His religion, he will
tell you, is, "to do as he would be done by." Poor man! it were well, if
he even practised this golden rule; it might lead him to something
further: for, by endeavouring to fulfil this, he might be brought to a
view and feeling of his own natural inability; of the evil tempers and
passions of his soul, which, in innumerable instances, hurry him on to
do to others, what he would, by no means, have them to do to him. His
religion, therefore, is properly visionary. Every thing to him is just
and right, that comes within those bounds of honesty, which have been
fixed by the laws of the land. A right life is not, with him, a right
principle in the heart; but only a set of outward actions, that in the
eyes of the world give him the character of an honest man.
The religion of such a person "costs him nothing." He has nothing to
sacrifice, but much to gain by the practice of it; at least, much of
worldly happiness; for he can have no idea of any other. Being wholly
destitute of all sensibility with respect to the evil of his fallen
life, he is not in the least desirous of purchasing a better, at the
price it will cost. Before he can form any conception of the necessity
of religion, as a real inward change and renewal of heart, he must first
be made sensible of his present error and misery: "for they that are
whole need not a physician, but they that are sick."
Next comes the nominal Christian, who hath been baptized, and professes
to believe the great truths of the Gospel, and joins with some publick
assembly of Christians in outward worship. Surely his claim to the
religious character, hath a better foundation than the preceding one: he
purchases it at an higher price; it costs him more to support it. He
neglects no outward duty, either moral or instituted; you never miss him
at church, or at the sacrament: he hath been strictly educated from his
infancy; he is sober, virtuous, kind, and charitable. In a word, he
appears to be, what it were to be wished every man in the world really
was. Thus far he is undoubtedly right: a strict observance of all the
outward duties of religion, a minute attention to things in themselves
indifferent, and a prudent abstaining from every appearance of evil, are
doubtless incumbent, even upon those who have made the greatest progress
in the Divine Life.
Let us, however, remember, that this outward strictness will avail
little, without a conformity of our inward man to the temper and
disposition of CHRIST; without being "born again," and commencing a new
life, even a life of Heaven upon earth. The nominal Christian is a
stranger to this blessed process. Talk to him of the necessity of
regeneration, of doing all that he does from a principle of Divine Love,
and with a view to God's glory, and not to any self-satisfaction, and he
will not understand you. His round of duties seems to be the God whom he
worships; at least, he makes them the _opus operatum_. He is never
tormented with spiritual doubts and temptations; he knows nothing of the
severe conflicts which real Christians sustain, and the dreadful pangs
they must suffer, before their purification is accomplished; before they
can "bow their heads," with the great Captain of their Salvation, and
say with him, "It is finished." He is willing to go to Heaven by an
easier and less thorny path, and to purchase glory at a cheaper rate.
The last I shall mention, but the most specious appearances of religion,
are those which are exhibited by the pharisaical professors of
Christianity. And here I would willingly throw a veil over those follies
and extravagancies, to which false enthusiasm frequently gives the name
of spiritual exercises and experiences. But my duty calls upon me to put
you on your guard against these delusive appearances; as I cannot but
think, that spiritual pride, or an over-weening conceit and forward
exhibition of our own fancied spiritual attainments, is the most fatal
rock, upon which the Christian can make "shipwreck of his faith."
In an age, wherein every appearance of religion ought to be encouraged
and promoted, it is melancholy to think, that we should be under a
necessity of speaking even against some appearances. But that you may
form a right notion of what I mean by a pharisaical profession of
religion, I will endeavour to draw the character of a modern Pharisee.
In the first place, he is one, who talks much in a religious strain, but
takes care to make himself the chief subject of conversation. His own
illuminations and experiences, his conviction and conversion, with all
the particular circumstances attending them, he never fails to
communicate, without distinction, to all those who will give him an
hearing; and to communicate in such a manner, as to let them know, that
he considers his own experiences as the infallible standard by which he
measures the experiences of others.
In the next place, you will generally find him insisting upon points of
controversy, rather than those of practice; urging your assent to such
and such articles of his faith, calling upon you to apply for
instruction to some favourite Rabbi of his own sect, or some favourite
system which himself has adopted, instead of sending you immediately to
him, who is the Fountain of all Wisdom, and "who giveth it liberally" to
those that ask it of him.
You will find him careful to "pay tithes of mint, and annise, and
cummin;" to go to what he calls a gospel-sermon, though he should
neglect the necessary duties of his occupation; and to spend hours in
talking about religion, whilst he passes by "the weightier matters of
the law, judgment, and mercy, and faith." Tell him of the necessity "of
dying daily to sin, of suffering with CHRIST, of mortifying the flesh,
denying himself, cutting off a right hand, &c." he will answer you, that
his peace is made, that his sins are pardoned, that he has a full
assurance of everlasting life. Tell him of the necessity of being "born
again," of having the righteous nature, temper, and disposition of the
HOLY JESUS in his heart; he will reply, that he knows of no
righteousness but that of CHRIST imputed, and that his Saviour's
personal obedience is accepted by GOD instead of his own; and though he
may not go so far as to deny the great doctrine of sanctification, but
will even allow and insist upon it, yet it is such sanctification, as
will turn to very little account. For, who that looks upon his work as
already done, will chuse to labour any longer? Who that believes his
sins to be already pardoned, will think it necessary to implore the
forgiveness of God, or to obtain the healing influences of the Spirit of
Grace?
In a word, if we may judge from his conversation, he thinks himself
perfect--if we may judge from his actions, he is indeed very far from
it. He shews the utmost bitterness against every one that happens to
dissent from his opinion; and looks upon all those as carnal and
unregenerate, who do not walk in his footsteps. Meekness, humility,
benevolence and charity, the most characteristical graces of the true
disciples of JESUS, are not to be found in any part of his conduct. His
life, therefore, is not in CHRIST, but in a set of doctrines and
opinions, supported by a "zeal that is not according to knowledge." Till
he is taught to see his own pride and presumption; till he discovers,
and strives to eradicate, the selfish principle that lurks at the centre
of his heart; he cannot be said to offer any other sacrifices to GOD,
than such as "cost him nothing."
To conclude: Having seen what those real sacrifices of religion are,
which will be acceptable to GOD, and in how many instances men deceive
themselves, and others, by false appearances; let us determine to judge
of our acquaintance with and progress in True Religion, not merely by
outward observances, nor yet by any transient fits or lively and
pleasant frames of devotion; but rather by the discovery which GOD is
pleased to make to us of our weakness and misery, by our sincere desire
of being united to CHRIST, and in heart and spirit assimilated to his
nature. Thus having followed a Suffering Master, "travelling in the
greatness of his strength," through the ensanguined paths of a spiritual
warfare, we shall at length "come forth out of great tribulation;" and,
having "washed our robes in the Blood of the Lamb," shall be partakers
of his triumphs; and receive the accomplishment of his great and
glorious promise: "To him that overcometh, will I grant to sit with me
in my throne; even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in
his throne."
DISCOURSE VI.
Truth, the only Friend of Man.
GALATIANS, CHAP. iv. VER. 16.
"AM I THEREFORE BECOME YOUR ENEMY, BECAUSE I TELL YOU THE TRUTH?"
Men are generally too apt to consider religion as unfriendly to their
happiness, and incapable of yielding them any satisfactions, equal to
those which they derive from the pursuit of worldly objects. Hence, the
aversion to exercises of piety, and the society and conversation of the
good and virtuous. Hence, the listlessness and unconcern about the state
of their souls, whilst the whole attention of their minds, their
thoughts, their desires and affections, their hands and their hearts,
are all busily and constantly employed, in making provision for the
support, ornament, and gratification, of a perishing body. Surely, such
a strange conduct as this, must proceed from a secret persuasion, that
religion will interrupt their pursuit of some present favourite objects,
and damp and deaden all the sprightliness of enjoyment. Were they,
indeed, charged with holding such principles as these, they would
doubtless take it exceedingly amiss; and look upon that man as their
enemy, who should presume thus to arraign their conduct, and ascribe it
to motives, which they would blush to own.
The tender and affectionate expostulation in my text, is evidently
founded upon an intimate knowledge of human nature. The sagacious
Apostle readily discovered the secret workings of pride and disgust, in
the hearts of his Galatian converts. After having expressed his
astonishment, that "they were so soon removed from him, that called them
into the Grace of CHRIST, unto another Gospel;" after having charged
them with folly, for suffering themselves to be "bewitched," as he
expresses it, by the artifices of deceivers; after having declared his
fears and apprehensions lest he should have bestowed upon them labour in
vain; and, after having enumerated some former testimonies of their
reciprocal regard and affection for each other; he, at length, addresses
himself to their consciences, and solemnly calls upon them to declare,
whether they could, with the least justice or propriety, change their
former sentiments of him, or deem him unfriendly to their best
interests, "because he told them the Truth;" because, by his Christian
and apostolical reprehensions, he sought to rescue them from the
dominion of passion and prejudice: "Am I therefore become your enemy,
because I tell you the Truth?"
One would think, that such well-meant remonstrances, from the ministers
of Truth and friends of Virtue, would be kindly received, and have a
salutary influence upon the hearts of sinners; but experience, alas!
tells us the contrary. There have been many instances, and some,
perhaps, within our own personal knowledge, in which resentment, rather
than gratitude, hath been awakened by such expostulations; and where,
instead of humbling the spirit, they have produced a reply that bore the
marks of passion, checked and disappointed in its favourite pursuits.
Considered with respect to the real state of his soul, every man, who
lives under the dominion of any evil passion, or suffers himself to be
drawn aside from the paths of virtue by the delusive arts of vice, is
doubtless in a situation similar to that of these Galatians. For though
his passions and prejudices may not be exactly the same, yet they
proceed from the same source, and enmity to GOD and Goodness is at the
bottom.
But, blessed be GOD! there are no Galatians without an Apostle; no
sinner without an higher messenger of GOD than St. Paul; a greater
witness, and more awful reprover of his evil ways; a friend that speaks
to him at all times and seasons, in the hurry of the day, and the
silence of the night, amidst the anxiety of expectation, and the ardour
of possession; vigorously remonstrating against every sinful suggestion,
and sharply censuring and reproving the mind for every sinful act.
The fallen spirit of man, it is true, brooks not the frequent appearance
of this Heavenly Messenger; but, as the Apostle says of the Galatians,
treats him as an enemy, and replies to all his friendly remonstrances
and affectionate warnings, with indignation and disdain.
"Go thy way for this time," was the language of voluptuous greatness to
the same blessed Apostle. "Go thy way for this time," is still the
language of every unconverted heart, when it is checked or interrupted
in its vicious and lawless pursuits, by the voice of this Inward
Monitor--why art thou perpetually intruding upon my hours of business,
pleasure, or repose, and teizing and disquieting me with thine ill-timed
admonitions or rebukes?
Who amongst us, let me ask, hath not, in innumerable instances, given
such a rash and impatient answer to the Servant of GOD within us? When
some darling passion hath importunately solicited for immediate
indulgence; some pretty fantastical object presented itself to our
desires; some impetuous call of pride, envy, covetuousness, or
resentment, demanded an immediate answer; have we not, though we were,
at the very instant, warned against the artifice and delusion, by this
constant and inseparable Friend, have we not petulantly rejected his
counsel, bid him "away for that time" at least, and treated him with
more contempt than we would dare to shew to an earthly enemy?
His meekness, however, is not discomposed by our rising wrath; his
fortitude is not daunted by our repeated insults; his persevering love
is not in the least abated by the stubbornness and obduracy of our
hearts. He still keeps close to our side, accompanies us whithersoever
we go, and, "whether we will hear, or whether we will forbear," ceases
not, at one time, to whisper to us in the soft language of heavenly
instruction; and, at another, to thunder in our ears the most alarming
reproofs and menaces.
But who is this Apostle, this Messenger of GOD, this Inward Witness and
Monitor, whom deluded mortals are so apt to consider as an enemy to
their peace?--Hear, O sinner, and let thy face be covered with
confusion! let thine hard heart break with deep compunction for its past
obduracy, whilst thou art told, that this enemy, as thou hast hitherto
deemed and treated him, is no other than the ETERNAL SPIRIT OF THY GOD
AND THY REDEEMER, who, by continually opposing the language of truth to
the suggestions of error, hath been endeavouring to emancipate thy soul
from its grievous bondage, and to bring it forth into light and liberty.
Thou hast mistaken death for life, misery for happiness, time for
eternity! Thy will and affections have been fixed upon objects of unreal
bliss; turned from thy GOD, the true and only source of Goodness and
Happiness, and working evil in the element of sin and darkness! Spirits
thus employed, must mingle with congenial spirits: there is "no
communion of CHRIST with Belial;" no fellowship or likeness betwixt thy
spirit in such a state as this, and the Spirit of thy REDEEMER. He
appears, and cannot but appear to thee, as thine enemy, because the
truth he tells thee militates against thy darling lusts, and shews thee
those dark destructive purposes, which, because thou canst hide them
from others, thou wishest also to hide from thyself.
But this seeming enemy is, indeed, thy real friend. He is only pursuing
thee with his internal counsels and reproofs, that he may snatch thee
out of the hands of the destroyer; that he may call thee out of thy
present "darkness, into his own marvellous light." When thou hast
experienced this blessed change, reconciliation will soon take place; an
union of spirits will commence betwixt thy SAVIOUR and thee; and thou
wilt gradually grow into his Image and Likeness, till thou art made
perfect in his Love.
Believe me, my brethren, till this great change hath passed upon our
souls, till we begin to feel, and admire, and love the communications of
this Inward Friend and Comforter, we must be strangers to true peace of
mind, and totally ignorant of the proper enjoyment of ourselves, and the
proper use of the world in which we now sojourn.