PART I.

The first chapter of first Thessalonians presents a very striking and

beautiful picture of what we may truly call _genuine conversion_. We

propose to study the picture in company with the reader. If we are not

much mistaken, we shall find the study at once interesting and

profitable. It will furnish an answer, distinct and clear, to the

question which stands at the head of this article, namely, What is

Conversion?

Nor is this by any means a small matter. It is well, in days like

these, to have a divine answer to such a question. We hear a good deal

now-a-days about cases of conversion; and we would heartily bless God

for every soul truly converted to Him.

We need hardly say we believe in the absolute, the indispensable, the

universal necessity of divine conversion. Let a man be what he may; be

he Jew or Greek, barbarian, Scythian, bond or free, Protestant or

Roman Catholic; in short, whatever be his nationality, his

ecclesiastical position, or his theological creed, he _must_ be

converted, else he is on the broad and direct road to an everlasting

hell.

There is no one born a Christian, in the true sense of that word.

Neither can anyone be educated into Christianity. It is a fatal

mistake, a deadly delusion, a deceit of the arch-enemy of souls, for

anyone to think that he can be a Christian either by birth or

education, or that he can be made a Christian by water baptism, or by

any religious ceremony whatsoever. A man becomes a Christian only by

being divinely converted. We would earnestly press on the attention of

all whom it may concern, the urgent and absolute necessity in every

case of true conversion to God.

This cannot be overlooked. It is the height of folly for anyone to

attempt to ignore or to make light of it. For an immortal being--one

who has a boundless eternity stretching away before him--to neglect

the solemn question of his conversion, is the wildest fatuity of which

anyone can possibly be guilty. In comparison with this most weighty

subject, all other things dwindle into utter insignificance. The

various objects that engage the thoughts and absorb the energies of

men and women in the busy scene around us, are but as the small dust

of the balance in comparison with this one grand, momentous question

of the soul's conversion to God. All the speculations of commercial

life, all the schemes of money-making, the absorbing question of

profitable investment, all the pursuits of the pleasure hunter--the

theatre, the concert, the ball-room, the billiard-room, the

card-table, the dice-box, the race-course, the hunting-ground, the

drinking saloon--all the numberless and nameless things that the poor

unsatisfied heart longs after, and grasps at--all are but as the

vapor of the morning, the foam on the water, the smoke from the

chimney-top, the withered leaf of autumn--all vanish away, and leave

an aching void behind. The heart remains unsatisfied, the soul

unsaved, because unconverted.

And what then? Ah, yes; what then! Tremendous question! What remains

at the end of all this scene of commercial excitement, political

strife and ambition, money-making and pleasure-hunting? Why, then the

man has to face death! "It is appointed unto men once to die." There

is no getting over this. There is no discharge in this war. All the

wealth of the universe could not purchase one moment's respite at the

hand of the ruthless foe. All the medical skill which earth affords,

all the fond solicitude of affectionate relatives and friends, all

their tears, all their sighs, all their entreaties cannot stave off

the dreaded moment, or cause the king of terrors to sheathe his

terrible sword. Death cannot be disposed of by any art of man. The

moment _must_ come when the link is to be snapped which connects the

heart with all the fair and fascinating scenes of human life. Fondly

loved friends, charming pursuits, coveted objects, all must be given

up. A thousand worlds could not avert the stroke. Death must be looked

at straight in the face. It is an awful mystery--a tremendous fact--a

stern reality. It stands full in front of every unconverted man,

woman, and child beneath the canopy of heaven; and it is merely a

question of time--hours, days, months, or years,--when the boundary

line must be crossed which separates time, with all its empty, vain,

shadowy pursuits, from eternity with all its stupendous realities.

And what then? Let Scripture answer. Nothing else can. Men would fain

reply according to their own vain notions. They would have us believe

that after death comes annihilation. "Let us eat and drink, for

to-morrow we die." Empty conceit! Vain delusion! Foolish dream of the

human imagination blinded by the god of this world! How could an

immortal soul be annihilated? Man, in the garden of Eden, became the

possessor of a never-dying spirit. "The Lord God breathed into his

nostrils the breath of life, and man became a _living_ soul"--not a

dying soul. The soul must live forever. Converted or unconverted, it

has eternity before it. Oh, the overpowering weight of this

consideration to every thoughtful spirit! No human mind can grasp its

immensity. It is beyond our comprehension, but not beyond our belief.

Let us hearken to the voice of God. What does Scripture teach? One

line of holy Scripture is quite sufficient to sweep away ten thousand

arguments and theories of the human mind. Does death annihilate? Nay!

"It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment."

Mark these words, "_After this_ the judgment." And this applies only

to those who die in their sins, only to unbelievers. For the

Christian, judgment is passed forever, as Scripture teaches in

manifold places. It is important to note this, because men tell us

that, inasmuch as there is eternal life only in Christ, therefore all

who are out of Christ shall be annihilated.

Not so says the word of God. There is judgment after death. And what

will be the issue of the judgment? Again Scripture speaks in language

as clear as it is solemn. "And I saw a great white throne, and Him

that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away;

and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and

great, stand before God; and the books were opened; and another book,

which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those

things which were written in the books, _according to their works_.

And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hades

delivered up the dead which were in them; and _they were judged every

man according to their works_.... This is the second death"--the lake

of fire. "And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was

cast into the lake of fire" (Rev. xx.)

All this is as plain as words can make it. There is not the slightest

ground for demur or difficulty. For all whose names are in the book of

life there is no judgment at all. Those whose names are not in that

book shall be judged according to their works. And what then?

Annihilation? Nay; but "the lake of fire;" and that forever and

forever.

How overwhelming is the thought of this! An unconverted person,

whoever and whatever he is, has death, judgment, and the lake of fire

before him, and every throb of his pulse brings him nearer and nearer

to those awful realities. It is not more sure that the sun shall rise,

at a certain moment, to-morrow morning, than that the reader must, ere

long, pass into eternity; and if his name is not in the book of

life--if he is not converted--if he is not in Christ, he will

assuredly be judged according to his works, and the certain issue of

that judgment will be the lake of fire, through the endless ages of

eternity.

The reader may perhaps marvel at our dwelling at such length on this

dreadful theme. He may feel disposed to ask, "Will this convert

people?" If it does not convert them, it may lead them to see their

need of conversion. It may lead them to see their imminent danger. It

may induce them to flee from the wrath to come. Why did the blessed

apostle reason with Felix on the subject of "judgment to come"? Surely

that he might persuade him to turn from his evil ways and live. Why

did our blessed Lord Himself so constantly press upon His hearers the

solemn reality of eternity? Why did He so often speak of the deathless

worm and the unquenchable fire? Surely it was for the purpose of

rousing them to a sense of their danger, that they might flee for

refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before them.

Are we wiser than He? Are we more tender? Have we found out some

better mode of converting people? Are we to be afraid of pressing upon

our readers or our hearers the same solemn theme which our Lord so

pressed upon the men of His time? Are we to shrink from offending

polite ears by the plain declaration that all who die unconverted must

inevitably stand before the great white throne, and pass into the lake

of fire? God forbid! It must not be. We solemnly call upon the

unconverted reader to give his undivided attention to the

all-important question of his soul's salvation. Let nothing induce him

to neglect it. Let neither cares, pleasures, nor duties so occupy him

as to hide from his view the magnitude and deep seriousness of this

matter. "What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world

and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his

soul?"

O reader, if thou art unsaved, unconverted, let us earnestly entreat

thee to ponder these things, and rouse thee to a sense of thy need of

being savingly converted to God. This is the only way of entering His

kingdom. So our Lord Christ distinctly tells us; and we trust you know

this at least, that not one jot or tittle of His holy sayings can ever

pass away. Heaven and earth shall pass away; but His word can never

pass away. All the power of earth and hell, men and devils, cannot

make void the words of our Lord Jesus Christ. Either of two things for

thee--_conversion here, or eternal damnation hereafter_.

Thus it stands, if we are to be guided by the word of God; and, in

view of this, is it possible for us to be too earnest, too vehement,

too importunate in urging upon every unconverted soul with whom we

may come in contact, either with voice or pen, the indispensable

necessity, this very moment, of fleeing from the wrath to come,

fleeing to that blessed Saviour who died on the cross for our

salvation; who stands with open arms to receive all who come; and who

declares in His own sweet and precious grace, "HIM THAT COMETH UNTO

ME, I WILL IN NO WISE CAST OUT?"

PART II.

In our previous paper, we have sought to set forth the absolute need,

in every case, of conversion. Scripture establishes this point in such

a way as to leave no possible ground of doubt for anyone who bows to

its holy authority. "Except ye be converted, and become as little

children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of heaven" (Matt. xviii.

3).

This applies, in all its moral force and deep solemnity, to every son

and daughter of fallen Adam. There is not so much as a solitary

exception, throughout the thousand millions that people this globe.

Without conversion, there is--there can be no entrance into the

Kingdom of God. Every unconverted soul is outside the Kingdom of God.

It matters not, in the smallest degree, who I am, or what I am; if I

am unconverted, I am in "the kingdom of darkness," under the power of

Satan, in my sins, and on the way to hell.

I may be a person of blameless morals; of spotless reputation; a high

professor of religion; a worker in the vineyard; a Sunday-school

teacher; an office-bearer in some branch of the professing church; an

ordained minister; a deacon, elder, pastor or bishop; a most

charitable individual; a munificent donor to religious and benevolent

institutions; looked up to, sought after, and reverenced by all

because of my personal worth and moral influence. I may be all this

and more; I may be, and I may have, all that it is possible for a

human being to be or to have, and yet be unconverted, and hence

outside the Kingdom of God, and in the kingdom of Satan, in my guilt,

and on the broad road that leads straight down to the lake that burns

with fire and brimstone.

Such is the plain and obvious meaning and force of our Lord's words in

Matt. xviii. 3. There is no possibility of evading it. The words are

as clear as a sunbeam. We cannot get over them. They bear down, with

what we may truly call tremendous solemnity, upon every unconverted

soul on the face of the earth. "Except ye be converted, ye _cannot_

enter the Kingdom of heaven." This applies, with equal force, to the

degraded drunkard that rolls along the street, worse than a beast, and

to the unconverted Good Templar or teetotaler who prides himself on

his sobriety, and is perpetually boasting of the number of days,

weeks, months, or years during which he has refrained from all

intoxicating drink. They are both alike outside the Kingdom of God;

both in their sins; both on the way to eternal destruction.

True it is that the one has been converted from drunkenness to

sobriety--a _very great_ blessing indeed, in a moral and social point

of view--but conversion from drunkenness to a temperance society is

not conversion to God; it is not turning from darkness to light; it is

not entering the Kingdom of God's dear Son. There is just this

difference between the two, that the teetotaler may be building upon

his temperance, pluming himself upon his morality, and thus deceiving

himself into the vain notion that he is all right, whereas, in

reality, he is not. The drunkard is palpably and unmistakably wrong.

Everybody knows that no drunkard can inherit the Kingdom of God; but

neither can an unconverted teetotaler. Both are outside. Conversion to

God is absolutely indispensable for the one as well as the other; and

the same may be said of all classes, all grades, all shades, all

castes and conditions of men under the sun. There is no difference as

to this great question. It holds good as to all alike, be their

outward character or social status what it may--"Except ye be

converted, _ye cannot_ enter the Kingdom of heaven."

How important, then--yea, how momentous the question for each one,

"_Am I converted?_" It is not possible for human language to set forth

the magnitude and solemnity of this inquiry. For any one to think of

going on, from day to day, and year to year, without a clear and

thorough settlement of this most weighty question, can only be

regarded as the most egregious folly of which a human being can be

guilty. If a man were to leave his earthly affairs in an uncertain,

unsettled condition, he would lay himself open to the charge of the

grossest and most culpable neglect and carelessness. But what are the

most urgent and weighty temporal affairs when compared with the

salvation of the soul? All the concerns of time are but as the chaff

of the summer threshing-floor, when compared with the interests of

the immortal soul--the grand realities of eternity.

Hence it is, in the very highest degree, irrational for any one to

rest for a single hour without a clear and settled assurance that he

is truly converted to God. A converted soul has crossed the boundary

line that separates the saved from the unsaved--the children of light

from the children of darkness--the Church of God from this present

evil world. The converted soul has death and judgment behind him, and

glory before. He can be as sure of heaven as though he were already

there; indeed as a man in Christ he belongs there already. He has a

title without a blot, a prospect without a cloud. He knows Christ as

his Saviour and Lord; God as his Father and Friend; the Holy Ghost as

his blessed Comforter, Guide and Teacher; heaven as his bright and

happy home. Oh! the unspeakable blessedness of being converted. Who

can utter it? "Eye hath not seen, or ear heard, neither have entered

into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them

that love Him. But God hath revealed them unto us [believers] by His

Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea the deep things of

God" (1 Cor. ii. 9, 10).

And now let us inquire what this conversion is, whereof we speak.

Well, indeed, will it be for us to be divinely instructed as to this.

An error here will prove disastrous in proportion to the interests at

stake.

Many are the mistaken notions in reference to conversion. Indeed we

might conclude, from the very fact of the vast importance of the

subject, that the great enemy of our souls and of the Christ of God

would seek, in every possible way, to plunge us into error respecting

it. If he cannot succeed in keeping people in utter carelessness as to

the subject of conversion, he will endeavour to blind their eyes as to

its true nature. If, for example, a person has been roused, by some

means or other, to a sense of the utter vanity and unsatisfactoriness

of worldly amusements, and the urgent necessity of a change of life,

the arch-deceiver will seek to persuade such an one to become

religious, to busy himself with ordinances, rites and ceremonies, to

give up balls and parties, theatres and concerts, drinking, gambling,

hunting and horse-racing; in a word, to give up all sorts of gaiety

and amusement, and engage in what is called a religious life, to be

diligent in attending the public ordinances of religion, to read the

Bible, say prayers, and give alms, to contribute to the support of the

great religious and benevolent institutions of the country.

Now, this is not conversion. A person may do all this, and yet be

wholly unconverted. A religious devotee whose whole life is spent in

vigils, fastings, prayers, self-mortifications and alms deeds, may be

as thoroughly unconverted, as far from the Kingdom of God as the

thoughtless pleasure hunter, whose whole life is spent in the pursuit

of objects as worthless as the withered leaf or the faded flower. The

two characters, no doubt, differ widely--as widely perhaps, as any

two could differ. But they are both unconverted, both outside the

blessed circle of God's salvation, both in their sins. True, the one

is engaged in "wicked works," and the other in "dead works;" they are

both out of Christ; they are unsaved; they are on the way to hopeless,

endless misery. The one, just as surely as the other, if not savingly

converted, will find his portion in the lake that burneth with fire

and brimstone.

Again, conversion is not a turning from one religious system to

another. A man may turn from Judaism, Paganism, Mahometanism, or

Popery, to Protestantism, and yet be wholly unconverted. No doubt,

looked at from a social, moral, or intellectual standpoint, it is much

better to be a Protestant than a Mahometan; but as regards our present

thesis, they are both on one common platform, both unconverted. Of

one, just as truly as the other, it can be said, unless he is

converted, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God. Conversion is not

joining a religious system, be that system ever so pure, ever so

sound, ever so orthodox. A man may be a member of the most respectable

religious body in Christendom, and yet be an unconverted, unsaved man,

on his way to eternal perdition.

So also as to the theological creeds. A man may subscribe to any of

the great standards of religious belief, the Thirty-nine Articles, the

Westminster Confession, John Wesley's Sermons, Fox and Barclay, or any

other creed, and yet be wholly unconverted, dead in trespasses and

sins, and on his way to that place where a single ray of hope can

never break in upon the awful gloom of eternity.

Of what use, we may lawfully inquire, is a religious system or a

theological creed to a man who has not a single spark of divine life?

Systems and creeds cannot quicken, cannot save, cannot give eternal

life. A man may work on in religious machinery like a horse in a mill,

going round and round, from one year's end to another, leaving off

just where he began, in a dreary monotony of dead works. What is it

all worth? what does it all come to? where does it all end? _Death!_

Yes; and what then? Ah! that is the question. Would to God the weight

and seriousness of this question were more fully realized!

But further, Christianity itself, in all its full-orbed light, may be

embraced as a system of religious belief. A person may be

intellectually delighted--almost entranced with the glorious doctrines

of grace, a full, free gospel, salvation without works, justification

by faith; in short, all that goes to make up our glorious New

Testament Christianity. A person may profess to believe and delight in

this; he may even become a powerful writer in defence of Christian

doctrine, an earnest eloquent preacher of the gospel. All this may be

true, and yet the man be wholly unconverted, dead in trespasses and

sins, hardened, deceived and destroyed by his very familiarity with

the precious truths of the gospel--truths that have never gone beyond

the region of his understanding--never reached his conscience, never

touched his heart, never converted his soul.

This is about the most appalling case of all. Nothing can be more

awful, more terrible, than the case of a man professing to believe and

delight in, yea, actually preaching the gospel of God, and teaching

all the grand characteristic truths of Christianity, and yet wholly

unconverted, unsaved, and on his way to an eternity of ineffable

misery--misery which must needs be intensified to the very highest

degree, by the remembrance of the fact that he once professed to

believe, and actually undertook to preach the most glorious tidings

that ever fell on mortal ears.

O! reader, whoever thou art, do, we entreat of thee, give thy fixed

attention to these things. Rest not, for one hour, until thou art

assured of thy genuine, unmistakable conversion to God.

PART III.

Having thus far seen the absolute necessity, in every case, of

conversion, and having, in some measure, sought to point out what

conversion is _not_, we have now to inquire what it _is_. And here we

must keep close to the veritable teaching of holy Scripture. We can

accept nothing less, nothing different. It is greatly to be feared

that very much of what passes, now-a-days, for conversion is not

conversion at all. Many so-called cases of conversion are published

and talked of, which cannot stand the test of the word of God. Many

profess to be converted, and are accredited as such, who prove to be

merely stony-ground hearers. There is no depth of spiritual work in

the heart, no real action of the truth of God on the conscience, no

thorough breaking with the world. It may be the feelings are wrought

upon by human influence, and certain evangelical sentiments take

possession of the mind; but _self_ is not judged; there is a clinging

to earth and nature; a lack of that deep-toned earnestness and genuine

reality which so remarkably characterize the conversions recorded in

the New Testament, and for which we may always look where the work of

conversion is divine. We do not here attempt to account for all these

superficial cases; we merely refer to them in order that all who are

engaged in the blessed work of evangelization may be led to consider

the matter in the light of holy Scripture, and to see how far their

own mode of working may call for holy correction. It may be there is

too much of the merely human element in our work. We do not leave the

Spirit of God to act. We are deficient in faith, in the power and

efficacy of the simple work of Christ itself. There may be too much

effort to work on the feelings, too much of the emotional and the

sensational. Perhaps, too, in our desire to reach results--a desire

which may be right enough in itself--we are too ready to accredit and

announce, as cases of conversion, many which, alas! are merely

ephemeral.

Will this lessen our earnestness? The very reverse; it will intensify

our earnestness immensely. We shall be more earnest in pleading with

God in secret, and in pleading with our fellows in public.

We shall feel more deeply the divine seriousness of the work, and our

own utter insufficiency. We shall ever cherish the wholesome

conviction that the work must be of God from first to last. This will

keep us in our right place, that of self-emptied dependence upon God,

who is the Doer of all the works that are done upon the earth. We

shall be more on our faces before the mercy-seat, both in the closet

and in the assembly, in reference to the glorious work of conversion;

and then, when the golden sheaves and mellow clusters appear, when

genuine cases of conversion turn up--cases which speak for themselves,

and carry their own credentials with them to all who are capable of

judging--then verily shall our hearts be filled with praise to the God

of all grace who has magnified the name of His Son Jesus Christ in the

salvation of precious souls.

How much better is this than to have our poor hearts puffed up with

pride and self-complacency by reckoning up our cases of conversion!

How much better, safer and happier to be bowed in worship before the

throne, than to have our names heralded to the ends of the earth as

great preachers and wonderful evangelists! No comparison, in the

judgment of a truly spiritual person. The dignity, reality, and

seriousness of the work will be realized; the happiness, the moral

security, and the real usefulness of the workman will be promoted; and

the glory of God secured and maintained.

Let us see how all this is illustrated in 1 Thessalonians i. "Paul,

and Silvanus, and Timotheus, unto the assembly of the Thessalonians in

God the Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ: grace be unto you, and

peace from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. We give thanks

to God always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers;

remembering without ceasing your work of _faith_ and labor of _love_,

and patience of _hope_"--the grand elements of true Christianity--"in

our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father; knowing,

brethren, beloved of God, your election." How did he know it? By the

clear and unquestionable evidence afforded in their practical

life--the only way in which the election of any one can be known. "For

our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also _in power_, and in

the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance; _as ye know what manner of men

we were among you for your sake_."

The blessed apostle was, in his daily life, the exponent of the gospel

which he preached. He _lived_ the gospel. He did not demand or exact

aught of them. He was not burdensome to them. He preached unto them

the precious gospel of God freely; and in order that he might do so,

he wrought with labor and travail, night and day. He was as a loving,

tender nurse, going in and out among them. There were with him no

high-sounding words about himself, or his office, or his authority, or

his gifts, or his preaching, or his wonderful doings in other places.

He was the loving, lowly, unpretending, earnest, devoted workman,

whose work spoke for itself, and whose whole life, his spirit, style,

deportment, and habits, were in lovely harmony with his preaching.

How needful for all workmen to ponder these things! We may depend upon

it that very much of the shallowness of our work is the fruit of the

shallowness of the workman. Where is the power? Where is the

demonstration of the Spirit? Where is the "much assurance?" Is there

not a terrible lack of these things in our preaching? There may be a

vast amount of fluent talking; a great deal of so-called cleverness;

and much that may tickle the ear, act on the imagination, awaken a

temporary interest, and minister to mere curiosity. But oh! where is

the holy unction, the living earnestness, the profound seriousness?

And then the living exponent in the daily life and habits--where is

this? May the Lord revive His work in the hearts of His workmen, and

then we may look for more of the results of the work.

Do we mean to teach that the work of conversion depends upon the

workman? Far away be the monstrous notion! The work depends wholly and

absolutely on the power of the Holy Ghost, as the very chapter now

lying open before us proves beyond all question. It must ever hold

good, in every department and every stage of the work, that it is "not

by might nor by power; but by My Spirit, saith the Lord."

But what kind of instrument does the Spirit ordinarily use? Is not

this a weighty question for us workmen? What sort of vessels are "meet

for the Master's use?" Empty vessels--clean vessels. Are we such? Are

we emptied of ourselves? Are we cured of our deplorable

self-occupation? Are we "clean?" Have we clean hands? Are our

associations, our ways, our circumstances, clean? If not, how can the

Master use us in His holy service? May we all have grace to weigh

these questions in the divine presence! May the Lord stir us all up,

and make us more and more vessels such as He can use for His glory!

We shall now proceed with our quotation. The whole passage is full of

power. The character of the workman on the one hand, and of the work

on the other, demands our most serious attention.

"And ye became followers of us, and of the Lord, having received the

word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost: so that ye were

ensamples [or models] to all that believe in Macedonia and Achaia.

For from you sounded out the word of the Lord, not only in Macedonia

and Achaia, but also in every place your faith to Godward is spread

abroad; so that we need not to speak anything, for they themselves

show of us what manner of entering in we had unto you."

This was real work. It carried its own credentials with it. There was

nothing vague or unsatisfactory about it--no occasion for any reserve

in forming or expressing a judgment respecting it. It was clear,

distinct, and unmistakable. It bore the stamp of the Master's hand,

and carried conviction to every mind capable of weighing the evidence.

The work of conversion was wrought, and the fruits of conversion

followed in delightful profusion. The testimony went forth far and

wide, so that the workman had no need to speak about his work. There

was no occasion for him to reckon up and publish the number of

conversions at Thessalonica. All was divinely real. It was a thorough

work of God's Spirit as to which there could be no possible mistake,

and about which it was superfluous to speak.

The apostle had simply preached the Word in the power of the Holy

Ghost, in much assurance. There was nothing vague, nothing doubtful

about his testimony. He preached as one who fully believed and

thoroughly entered into what he was preaching about. It was not the

mere fluent utterance of certain known and acknowledged truths--not

the cut and dry statement of certain barren dogmas. No; it was the

living outpouring of the glorious gospel of God, coming from a heart

that felt profoundly every utterance, and falling upon hearts prepared

by God's Spirit for its reception.

Such was the work at Thessalonica--a blessed divine work--all real,

the genuine fruit of God's Spirit. It was no mere religious

excitement, nothing sensational, no high pressure, no attempt to "get

up a revival." All was beautifully calm. The workman, as we are told

in Acts xvii., "came to Thessalonica, where was a synagogue of the

Jews; and as his manner was, he went in unto them, and three sabbath

days reasoned with them out of the Scriptures"--Precious, powerful

reasoning! would to God we had more of it in our midst!--"opening and

alleging that Christ must needs have suffered, and risen again from

the dead, and that this Jesus, whom I preach unto you, is Christ."

How simple! Preaching Jesus out of the Scriptures! Yes, here lay the

grand secret of Paul's preaching. He preached a living Person, in

living power, on the authority of a living Word, and this preaching

was received in living faith, and brought forth living fruit, in the

lives of the converts. This is the preaching that God has ordained and

uses. It is not sermonizing, not religious talk, but the preaching of

Christ by the Holy Ghost speaking through men who are themselves under

the power of what they are preaching. God grant us more of this!

PART IV.

The last two verses of our chapter (1 Thess. i.) demand our very

special attention. They furnish a remarkable statement of the real

nature of conversion. They show, very distinctly, the depth,

clearness, fulness, and reality of the work of God's Spirit in those

Thessalonian converts. There was no mistaking it. It carried its own

credentials with it. It was no uncertain work. It did not call for any

careful examination ere it could be accredited. It was a manifest,

unmistakable work of God, the fruits of which were apparent to all.

"They themselves shew of us what manner of entering in we had unto

you, and how _ye turned to God from idols_, to serve the living and

true God; and to wait for His Son from heaven, whom He raised from the

dead, Jesus, who delivered us from the wrath to come" (vers. 9, 10).

Here, then, we have a divine definition of conversion--brief, but

comprehensive. It is a turning _from_, and a turning _to_. They turned

from idols. There was a complete break with the past, a turning of the

back, once and forever, on their former life and habits; a thorough

surrender of all those objects that had ruled their hearts and

commanded their energies. Those dear Thessalonians were led to judge,

in the light of divine truth, their whole previous course, and not

only to judge it, but to abandon it unreservedly. It was no

half-and-half work. There was nothing vague or equivocal about it. It

was a marked epoch in their history--a grand turning-point in their

moral and practical career. It was not a mere change of opinion, or

the reception of a new set of principles, a certain alteration in

their intellectual views. It was far more than any or all of these

things. It was the solemn discovery that their whole past career had

been one great, dark, monstrous lie. It was the real heart conviction

of this. Divine light had broken in upon their souls, and in the power

of that light they judged themselves and the entire of their previous

history. There was an out-and-out surrender of that world which had

hitherto ruled their hearts' affections; not a shred of it was to be

spared.

And what, we may ask, produced this marvelous change? Simply the word

of God brought home to their souls in the mighty power of the Holy

Ghost. We have referred to the inspired account of the apostle's visit

to Thessalonica. We are told that "he reasoned with them out of the

Scriptures." He sought to bring their souls into direct contact with

the living and eternal word of God. There was no effort to act on

their feelings and imagination. All this the blessed workman judged to

be utterly valueless. He had no confidence whatever in it. His

confidence was in the word and Spirit of God. He assures the

Thessalonians of this very thing in the most touching manner, in chap.

ii. of his epistle. "For this cause," he says, "thank we God without

ceasing, because, when ye received the word of God which ye heard of

us, ye received it _not as the word of men_, but, as it is in truth,

_the word of God_, which effectually worketh also in you that

believe."

This is what we may call a vital and cardinal point. The word of God,

and that alone, in the mighty hand of the Holy Ghost, produced these

grand results in the case of the Thessalonians, which filled the heart

of the beloved apostle with unfeigned thanksgiving to God. He rejoiced

that they were not linked on to him, but to the living God Himself, by

means of His word. This is an imperishable link. It is as enduring as

the Word which forms it. The word of man is as perishable as himself;

but the word of the Lord endureth forever. The apostle, as a true

workman, understood and felt all this, and hence his holy jealousy, in

all his ministry, lest the souls to whom he preached should, in any

way, lean upon him instead of on the One whose messenger and minister

he was.

Hear what he says to the Corinthians: "And I, brethren, when I came

unto you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring

unto you _the testimony of God_. For I determined not to know anything

among you, save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. And I was with you in

weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling. And my speech and my

preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but _in

demonstration of the Spirit_ and of power; that your faith should not

stand in the wisdom of men, but _in the power of God_" (1 Cor. ii.

1-5).

Here we have true ministry--"the testimony of God," and "the

demonstration of the Spirit"--the Word and the Holy Ghost. Nothing

else is of any value. All mere human influence, human power, and the

results produced by human wisdom or energy, are perfectly

worthless--yea, positively mischievous. The workman is puffed up by

the apparent results of his work paraded and talked of, and the poor

souls that are acted upon by this false influence are deceived, and

led into an utterly false position and false profession. In a word,

the whole thing is disastrous in the extreme.

Not so when the word of God, in its mighty moral power, and the energy

of the Holy Ghost, are brought to bear on the heart and conscience.

Then it is we see divine results, as in the case of the Thessalonians.

Then indeed it is made apparent, beyond all question, who is the

workman. It is not Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, but God Himself, whose

work accredits itself, and shall stand forever; all homage to His holy

name! The apostle had no need to reckon up and publish the results of

his work at Thessalonica, or rather God's work by his means. It spoke

for itself. It was genuine. It bore, with unmistakable distinctness,

the stamp of God upon it, and this was quite enough for Paul; and it

is quite enough for every true-hearted, self-emptied workman. Paul

preached the Word, and that Word was brought home, in the quickening

energy of the Holy Ghost, to the hearts of the Thessalonians. It fell

into good ground, took root, and brought forth fruit in abundance.

And let us mark the fruit. "_Ye turned from idols._" Here we have, in

one word, the whole life of every unconverted man, woman, or child on

the face of the earth. It is all wrapped up and presented to our view

in the one expression, "_idols_." It is not by any means necessary to

bow down to a stock or a stone in order to be an idolater. Whatever

commands the heart is an idol; the yielding of the heart to that thing

is idolatry, and the one who so yields it is an idolater. Such is the

plain, solemn truth in this matter, however unpalatable it may be to

the proud human heart. Take that one great, crying, universal sin of

"covetousness." What does the inspired apostle call it? He calls it

"idolatry." How many hearts are commanded by money! How many

worshipers bow down before the idol of gold! What is covetousness?

Either a desire to get more, or the love of what we have. We have both

forms in the New Testament. The Greek has a word to represent both.

But whether it be the desire to grasp, or the desire to hoard, in

either case it is idolatry.

And yet the two things may be very unlike in their outward

development. The former, that is, the desire to get more, may often be

found in connection with a readiness to spend; the latter, on the

contrary, is generally linked with an intense spirit of hoarding.

There, for example, is a man of great business capacity--a thorough

commercial genius--in whose hand everything seems to prosper. He has a

real zest for business, an unquenchable thirst for making money. His

one object is to get more, to add thousand to thousand, to strengthen

his commercial foundation, and enlarge his sphere. He lives, thrives,

and revels in the atmosphere of commerce. He started on his career

with a few pence in his pocket, and he has risen to the proud position

of a merchant prince. He is not a miser. He is as ready to scatter as

to obtain. He fares sumptuously, entertains with a splendid

hospitality, gives munificently to manifold public objects. He is

looked up to and respected by all classes of society.

But he loves to get more. He is a covetous man--an idolater. True, he

despises the poor miser who spends his nights over his money-bags,

"holding strange communion with his gold;" delighting his heart and

feasting his eyes with the very sight of the fascinating dust,

refusing himself and his family the common necessaries of life; going

about in rags and wretchedness, rather than spend a penny of the

precious hoard; who loves money, not for what it can get or give, but

simply for its own sake; who loves to accumulate, not that he may

spend, but that he may hoard; whose one ruling desire is to die worth

so much wretched dust--strange, contemptible desire!

Now these two are apparently very different, but they meet in one

point; they stand on one common platform; they are both covetous, and

they are both idolaters.[1] This may sound harsh and severe, but it

is the truth of God, and we must bow down before its holy authority.

True it is that nothing is apparently more difficult to bring home to

the conscience than the sin of covetousness--that very sin which the

Holy Ghost declares to be idolatry. Thousands might see it in the case

of the poor degraded miser, who nevertheless would be shocked by its

application to a merchant prince. It is one thing to see it in others,

and quite another to judge it in ourselves. The fact is, that nothing

but the light of the word of God shining in upon the soul, and

penetrating every chamber of our moral being, can enable us to detect

the hateful sin of covetousness. The pursuit of gain--the desire to

have more--the spirit of commerce--the ability to make money--the

desire to get on--all this is so "highly esteemed amongst men," that

very few, comparatively, are prepared to see that it is positively "an

abomination in the sight of God." The natural heart is formed by the

thoughts of men. It loves, adores and worships the objects that it

finds in this world; and each heart has its own idol. One worships

gold, another worships pleasure, another worships power. Every

unconverted man is an idolater; and even converted men are not beyond

the reach of idolatrous influences, as is evident from the warning

note raised by the venerable apostle, "Little children, keep

yourselves from idols" (1 John v. 21).

[1] The two Greek words to which we have alluded in the text are,

πλεονεξια (pleonexia--the desire to get more), and

φιλαργυρια (philarguria--the love of money). Now it is the

former that occurs in Col. iii. 5--"Covetousness, which is idolatry;"

and there it stands in the terrible category with some of the very vilest

sins that stain the pages of human history.

Reader, will you permit us to put a plain, pointed question to you,

ere we proceed further? Are you converted? Do you profess to be so? Do

you take the ground of being a Christian? If so, have you turned from

idols? Have you really broken with the world, and with your former

self? Has the living word of God entered your heart, and led you to

judge the whole of your past life, whether it has been a life of

gayety and thoughtless folly, a life of busy money-making, a life of

abominable vice and wickedness, or a life of mere religious

routine--Christless, faithless, worthless religion?

Say, dear friend, how is it? Be thoroughly in earnest. Be assured

there is an urgent demand for out-and-out earnestness in this matter.

We cannot hide from you the fact that we are painfully conscious of

the sad lack of thorough decision amongst us. We have not, with

sufficient emphasis or distinctness, "turned from idols." Old habits

are retained; former lusts and objects rule the heart. The temper,

style, spirit and deportment do not bespeak conversion. We are sadly

too like our former selves--too like the openly and confessedly

worldly people around us.

All this is really terrible. We fear it is a sad hindrance to the

progress of the gospel and the salvation of souls. The testimony falls

powerless on the ears of those to whom we speak, because we do not

seem as though we ourselves really believe what we are talking about.

The apostle could not say to us, as he said to his dear Thessalonian

converts, "From you sounded out the word of the Lord ... so that we

need not to speak anything." There is a want of depth, power and

markedness in our conversion. The change is not sufficiently apparent.

Even where there is a work, there is a tameness, feebleness and

vagueness about it truly deplorable and discouraging.

But more of this in our next, if the Lord will.

PART V.

We are now called to consider what we may term the positive side of

the great subject of conversion. We have seen that it is a turning

_from_ idols--a turning from all those objects which ruled our hearts

and engaged our affections--the vanities and follies, the lusts and

pleasures which made up the whole of our existence in the days of our

darkness and blindness. It is, as we read in Acts xxvi. 18, a turning

_from_ darkness, and from the power of Satan; and, as we read in Gal.

i. 4, a turning _from_ this present evil world.

But conversion is much more than all this. It would, in one sense, be

but a poor thing if it were merely a turning "_from_ sin, the world,

and Satan." No doubt it is a signal mercy to be delivered, once and

forever, from all the wretchedness and moral degradation of our former

life; from the terrible thraldom of the god and prince of this world;

from all the hollowness and vanity of a world that lieth in the arms

of the wicked one; and from the love and practice of sin--the vile

affections which once held sway over us. We cannot be too thankful for

all that is included in this side of the question.

But, we repeat, there is very much more than this. The heart may feel

disposed to inquire, "What have we gotten in lieu of all we have given

up? Is Christianity merely a system of negations? If we have broken

with the world and self--if we have given up our former pleasures and

amusements--if, in short, we have turned our back upon what goes to

make up life in this world, what have we instead?"

1 Thessalonians i. 9 furnishes, in one word, the answer to all these

inquiries--an answer full, clear, distinct, and comprehensive. Here it

is--"Ye turned to GOD."

Precious answer! Yes, unspeakably precious to all who know aught of

its meaning. What have I got instead of my former "idols?" God!

Instead of this world's vain and sinful pleasures? God! Instead of its

riches, honors, and distinctions? God! Oh, blessed, glorious, perfect

Substitute! What had the prodigal instead of the rags of the far

country? The best robe in the Father's house! Instead of the swine's

husks? The fatted calf of the Father's providing! Instead of the

degrading servitude of the far country? The Father's welcome, his

bosom, and his table!

Reader, is not this a blessed exchange? Have we not, in the familiar,

but ever charming history of the prodigal a most touching and

impressive illustration of true conversion in both its sides? May we

not well exclaim, as we gaze on the inimitable picture, "What a

conversion! What a turning from and turning to!" Who can utter it?

What human tongue can adequately set forth the feelings of the

returned wanderer when pressed to the Father's bosom and bathed in the

light and love of the Father's house? The rags, the husks, the swine,

the slavery, the cold selfishness, the destitution, the famine, the

misery, the moral degradation--all gone, and gone forever; and instead

thereof the ineffable delight of that bright and happy home, and,

above all, the exquisite feeling that all that festive joy which

surrounded him was wakened up by the very fact of his return--that it

made the Father glad to get him back!

But we shall, perhaps, be told that all this is but a figure. Yes; but

a figure of what? Of a precious, a divine reality; a figure of what

takes place in every instance of true conversion, if only it be looked

at from a heavenly standpoint. It is not a mere surrender of the

world, with its thousand and one vanities and follies. It is this, no

doubt; but it is very much more. It is being brought to God, _brought

home_, brought to the Father's bosom, brought into the family;

made--not in the language of a barren formulary, but in the power of

the Spirit, and by the mighty action of the Word--a child of God, a

member of Christ, and an heir of the kingdom.

This, and nothing less, is conversion. Let the reader see that he

thoroughly understands it. Let him not be satisfied with anything

short of this grand reality--this turning from darkness to light, from

the power of Satan, and from the worship of idols, to God. The

Christian is, in one sense, as really brought to God now as if he were

actually in heaven. This may seem strong, but it is blessedly true.

Hear what the apostle Peter says as to this point: "Christ hath once

suffered for sins, the Just for the unjust, to bring us to"--what?

Heaven when we die? Nay; but "to bring us to God" _now_. So, also, in

Rom. v. we read, "For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to

God by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be

saved by His life! And not only so, but we also _joy in God_, through

our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the

reconciliation."

This is an immense principle. It is not within the compass of human

language to set forth all that is involved in being "turned," or

"brought to God." Our adorable Lord Jesus Christ brings all who

believe in His name into God's presence, in all His own perfect

acceptability. They come in all the credit, and virtue, and value of

the blood of Jesus, and in all the fragrance of His most excellent

name. He brings us into the very same position with Himself. He links

us with Himself, and shares with us all He has, and all He is, save

His Deity, which is incommunicable. We are perfectly identified with

Him. "Yet a little while, and the world seeth Me no more; but ye see

Me; _because I live, ye shall live also_." Again, "Peace I leave with

you, _my peace I give unto you_; not as the world giveth, give I unto

you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." "These

things have I spoken unto you, that _my joy might remain in you_, and

that your joy might be full." "Henceforth I call you not servants, for

the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth; but I have called you

friends, for _all things that I have heard of my Father I have made

known unto you._"

So, also, in that marvelous prayer in John xvii., we read, "I have

given unto them the words which Thou gavest Me; and they have received

them, and have known surely that I came out from Thee, and they have

believed that Thou didst send Me. I pray for them; I pray not for the

world, but for them which Thou hast given Me; for they are Thine. And

all Mine are Thine, and Thine are Mine, and I am glorified in them."

"I have given them Thy word; and the world hath hated them, because

_they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world." "As Thou

hast sent Me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the

world." "And the glory which Thou gavest Me I have given them; that

they may be one, even as We are one_: I in them, and Thou in Me, that

they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou

hast sent Me, _and hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me_. Father, _I

will that they also whom Thou hast given Me be with Me where I am_;

that they may behold My glory which Thou hast given Me; for thou

lovedst Me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, the

world hath not known Thee, but I have known Thee, and these have known

that Thou hast sent Me. And I have declared unto them Thy name, and

will declare it; that _the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in

them, and I in them_."

Now it is utterly impossible to conceive anything higher or more

blessed than this. To be so thoroughly identified with the Son of God,

to be so wholly one with Him as to share in the very same love

wherewith He is loved by the Father, to partake of His peace, His joy,

His glory--all this involves the very highest possible measure and

character of blessing with which any creature could be endowed. To be

saved from the everlasting horrors of the pit of hell; to be pardoned,

washed, and justified; to be reinstated in all that Adam lost; to be

let into heaven on any ground or in any character whatsoever, would be

marvelous mercy, goodness, and loving-kindness; but to be brought to

God in all the love and favor of His own beloved Son, to be intimately

associated with Him in all His position before God--His acceptability

now--His glory by and by--this, truly, is something which only the

heart of God could think of, and only His mighty power accomplish.

Well, reader, all this is involved in the conversion whereof we speak.

Such is the magnificent grace of God, such the love wherewith He loved

us, even when we were dead in trespasses and sins, enemies in our

minds by wicked works, serving divers lusts and pleasures, worshiping

idols, the blind, degraded slaves of sin and Satan, children of wrath,

and going straight to hell.

And the best of it all is, that it both glorifies the name and

gratifies the heart of God to bring us into this place of

inconceivable blessedness, love, and glory. It would not satisfy the

love of His heart to give us any lower place than that of His own Son.

Well might the inspired apostle exclaim, in view of all this

stupendous grace, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus

Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly

places in Christ; according as He hath chosen us in Him before the

foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame

before Him in love; having predestinated us unto the adoption of

children by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of

His will, _to the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath

made us accepted in the Beloved_, in whom we have redemption through

His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His

grace" (Eph. i.).

What depth of love, what fulness of blessing, have we here! It is the

purpose of God to glorify Himself, throughout the countless ages of

eternity, in His dealings with us. He will display, in view of all

created intelligences, the riches of His grace, in His kindness toward

us, by Christ Jesus. Our forgiveness, our justification, our perfect

deliverance, our acceptance--all the blessings bestowed upon us in

Christ--are for the display of the divine glory throughout the vast

universe forever. It would not meet the claims of God's glory, or

answer the affections of His heart, to have us in any other position

but that of His own well-beloved and only begotten Son.

All this is marvelous. It seems too good to be true. But it is worthy

of God, and it is His good pleasure so to act toward us. This is

enough for us. It may be, and most assuredly is, too good for us to

get, but it is not too good for God to give. He acts toward us

according to the love of His heart, and on the ground of the

worthiness of Christ. The prodigal might ask to be made as one of the

hired servants, but this could not be. It would not be according to

the Father's heart to have him in the house as a servant. It must be

as a son or not at all. If it were a question of desert, we do not

deserve the place of a servant any more than that of a son. But,

blessed be God, it is not according to our deserts at all, but

according to the boundless love of His heart, and to the glory of His

holy name.

This, then, is conversion. Thus we are _brought to God_. Nothing short

of this. We are not merely turned from our idols, whatever they were,

but we are actually brought into the very presence of God, to find our

delight in Him, to joy in Him, to walk with Him, to find all our

springs in Him, to draw upon His exhaustless resources, to find in Him

a perfect answer to all our necessities, so that our souls are

satisfied, and that forever.

Do we want to go back to the idols? Never! Have we any hankering after

our former objects? Not if our hearts are realizing our place and

portion in Christ. Had the prodigal any longings after the husks and

the swine when folded in the father's bosom, clothed in the father's

house, and seated at the father's table? We do not, and cannot,

believe it. We cannot imagine his heaving a single sigh after the far

country when once he found himself within the hallowed circle of that

bright and blissful home of love.

We speak according to the divine standard. Alas! alas! many profess to

be converted, and seem to go on for a season; but ere long they begin

to grow cold, and get weary and dissatisfied. The work was not real.

They were not really brought to God. Idols may have been given up for

a time, but God Himself was never reached. They never found in Him a

satisfying portion for their hearts--never knew the real meaning of

communion with Him--never tasted heart-satisfaction, heart-rest, in

Christ. Hence, in process of time, the poor heart began to long once

more for the world, and back they went, and plunged into its follies

and vanities with greater avidity than ever.

Such cases are very sad, very disappointing. They bring great reproach

on the cause of Christ, and are used as a plea for the enemy, and as a

stumbling-block for anxious inquirers. But they leave the question of

divine conversion just where it was. The soul that is truly converted

is one who has not merely been turned from this present evil world,

and all its promises and pretensions, but who has been led by the

precious ministry of the Holy Ghost to find in the living God, and in

His Son Jesus Christ, all he can possibly want for time and eternity.

Such an one has divinely done with the world. He has broken with it

forever. He has had his eyes opened to see, through and through, the

whole thing. He has judged it in the light of the presence of God. He

has measured it by the standard of the cross of Christ. He has weighed

it in the balances of the sanctuary, and turned his back upon it

forever, to find an absorbing and a commanding object in the Person of

that blessed One who was nailed to the accursed tree, in order to

deliver him, not only from everlasting burnings, but also from this

present evil world.

PART VI.

The more we dwell on 1 Thess. i. 9, the more we are struck with its

marvelous depth, fulness, and power. It seems like sinking a shaft

into an inexhaustible mine. We have dwelt a little on that very

fruitful and suggestive clause, "_Turned to God from idols_." How much

is wrapped up in it! Do we really understand the force and fulness of

it? It is a wonderful thing for the soul to be brought to God--to know

Him now as our resource in all our weakness and need--the spring of

all our joys--our strength and shield--our Guide and Counsellor--our

all in all--to be absolutely and completely shut up to Him, wholly

dependent upon Him.

Reader, do you know the deep blessedness of all this in your own soul?

If you are a child of God, a truly converted soul, then it is your

happy privilege to know it, and you ought not to be satisfied without

it. If we are "turned to God," what is it for but to find in Him all

we can possibly want for time and eternity? Nothing can ever satisfy

the human soul but God Himself. It is not within the compass of earth

to meet the cravings of the heart. If we had the wealth of the

universe, and all that that wealth could procure, the heart would

still want more; there would still be an aching void which nothing

under the sun could fill.

Look at the history of Solomon. Hear him recording his own experience.

"I, the preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem; and I gave my

heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are

done under heaven; this sore travail hath God given to the sons of men

to be exercised therewith. I have seen all the works that are done

under the sun, and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. That

which is crooked cannot be made straight, and that which is wanting

cannot be numbered. I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am

come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that

have been before me in Jerusalem; yea, my heart had great experience

of wisdom and knowledge. And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to

know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is vexation of

spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth

knowledge increaseth sorrow. I said in my heart, Go to, now, I will

prove thee with mirth; therefore enjoy pleasure; and behold, this also

is vanity. I said of laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it?

I sought in my heart to give myself to wine, yet acquainting my heart

with wisdom, and to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was that

good for the sons of men, which they should do under the heaven all

the days of their life. I made me great works; I builded me houses; I

planted me vineyards; I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted

trees in them of all kind of fruits; I made me pools of water, to

water there with the wood that bringeth forth trees. I got me servants

and maidens, and had servants born in my house; also, I had great

possessions of great and small cattle, above all that were in

Jerusalem before me. I gathered me also silver and gold, and the

peculiar treasure of kings and of the provinces; I gat me men singers

and women singers, and the delights of the sons of men, as musical

instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and increased more

than all that were before me in Jerusalem; also, my wisdom remained

with me. And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them; I

withheld not my heart from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my

labor; and this was my portion of all my labor. Then I looked on all

the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had

labored to do; and behold, _all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and

there was no profit under the sun_" (Eccle. i., ii.).

Such is the withering commentary upon all earth's resources as given

by the pen of one who had all that earth could give--of one who was

allowed to drain to the very dregs every cup of human and earthly

pleasure. And what was it all? "Vanity and vexation of spirit." "All

things are full of labor; man cannot utter it; the eye is not

satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing." The poor

human heart can never be satisfied with the resources of earth.

Creature streams can never quench the thirst of the immortal soul.

Material things cannot possibly make us truly happy, even if they were

permanent. "All is vanity and vexation of spirit."

The truth of this must be proved by every human heart. Sooner or later

all must find it out. Men may turn a deaf ear to it now; they may

refuse to listen to the Spirit's warning voice; they may vainly

imagine that this poor world can yield them substantial comfort and

happiness; they may eagerly grasp at its riches, its honors, its

distinctions, its pleasures, its material comforts; but they will find

out their mistake. And oh, how dreadful to find it out _too late_! How

terrible to open one's eyes in hell, like the rich man in the parable!

What human language can set forth the horrors of a soul shut out

forever from the presence of God, and consigned to outer darkness, to

the place of weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth? It is

overwhelming to think of it. What will it be to realize it? What will

it be to find oneself in the tormenting flames of hell, at the other

side of that impassable gulf where a single ray of hope can never

break through the deep gloom of eternity?

Oh that men would think of all this in time! that they might flee from

the wrath to come, and lay hold on the blessed hope set before them in

the gospel; that they might "turn to God." But alas! the god of this

world blinds their minds, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of

Christ, who is the image of God, should shine into them. He engrosses

them with present things--business, money-making, pleasures, cares,

lusts, anything and everything but the one thing, in comparison with

which all earthly things are but as the small dust of the balance.

But we have digressed from our special theme, to which we must return.

We are particularly anxious to press upon the Christian reader the

immense importance of seeking to find all his resources in the living

God. We have only for a moment turned aside from this point, in order

to sound a warning note in the ear of any unconverted, careless one

who may happen to take up this paper. We earnestly entreat the latter

to turn to God. We entreat the former to seek a deeper acquaintance

with the One to whom, by grace, he has turned. We have the two things

before us in penning these papers on the great subject of

"conversion." We can truly say, we long to see precious souls

converted to God, and we long to see converted souls happy in God.

We are increasingly convinced of the practical importance of

Christians proving in their daily life that they have found thorough

rest of heart in God. It has immense weight with worldly people. It is

a grand point gained when we are able, through grace, to tell the

world that we are independent of it; and the only way to do this is to

live in the abiding sense of what we have in God. This would impart a

moral elevation to our entire course and character. It would deliver

us completely from that strong tendency to lean on human props and to

betake ourselves to creature streams which we have all more or less to

lament, and which must assuredly issue in disappointment to us and

dishonor to God.

How prone we are on all occasions to look to our fellow-men for

sympathy, succor and counsel instead of looking directly and

exclusively to God! This is a serious mistake. It is in principle to

forsake the Fountain of living waters, and hew out for ourselves

broken cisterns which can hold no water. What can we expect? What must

be the issue? Barrenness and desolation. Our God, in very faithfulness

to us, will cause our fellow-man to fail us, in order that we may

learn the folly of leaning upon an arm of flesh.

Hear what the prophet says on this great practical question: "Thus

saith the Lord, Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh

flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord. For he shall

be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh,

but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt

land, and not inhabited."

But mark the contrast. "Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord,

and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the

waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not

see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green, and shall not be

careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding

fruit" (Jer. xvii.).

O reader, it is a grand reality to lean on the arm of the living

God--to find in Him our relief and our resource at all times, in all

places, and under all circumstances. He never fails a trusting heart.

He will never disappoint us. He may see fit to keep us waiting for an

answer to our call, but the time we spend in waiting is well spent,

and when the answer comes our hearts are filled with praise, and we

are able to say, "Oh, how great is Thy goodness, which Thou hast laid

up for them that fear Thee, which Thou hast wrought for them that

trust in Thee before the sons of men" (Psa. xxxi. 19).

It is a great thing to be able to trust God before the sons of men, to

confess His sufficiency for our every exigence. But it must be a

reality, and not mere profession. It is no use to talk of leaning on

God while at the same time we are, in one way or another, looking to

some poor mortal to help us. This is a sad delusion. But, alas! how

often we fall under its power! We adopt the language of dependence

upon God, but in reality we are looking to man, and letting him know

our wants. We deceive ourselves and dishonor God, and the end is

disappointment and confusion of face.

Reader, let us look closely and honestly at this matter. Let us see to

it that we understand the meaning of those precious words, "Turned to

God." They contain the very essence of true happiness and true

holiness. When the heart is really turned to God it has found the

true, the divine secret of peace, rest, and full satisfaction; it

finds its all in God, and has no occasion whatever to turn to the

creature. Am I in any perplexity? I can look to God for guidance. He

has promised to guide me with His eye. What perfect guidance! Can man

do better for me? Surely not. God sees the end from the beginning. He

knows all the bearings, all the belongings, all the roots and issues

of my case. He is an infallible guide. His wisdom is unerring, and,

moreover, He loves me perfectly. Where could I find a better guide?

Am I in want? I can go to God about it. He is the Possessor of heaven

and earth. The treasures of the universe are at His disposal. He can

help me if He sees it to be good for me; and if not, the pressure will

be much better for me than the relief. "My God shall supply all your

need, according to His riches in glory, by Christ Jesus." Is not this

enough? Why look to a creature stream? Why turn from such a God and go

with our wants to a human being? It is in reality giving up, so far,

the ground of faith, the life of simple dependence on God. It is

actually dishonoring our Father. If I apply to my fellow for help, it

is tantamount to saying that God has failed me. It is really betraying

my loving Father who has taken me up, body, soul and spirit, to do for

me for time and eternity. He has pledged Himself to provide for all my

wants, be they ever so many, ever so great, ever so varied. "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_?" His word is, "Call

upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt

glorify Me."

True, God uses the creature to meet our need; but this is a totally

different matter. The blessed apostle could say, "God who comforteth

those that are cast down, comforted us by the coming of Titus." Paul

was looking to God for comfort, and God sent Titus to comfort him. Had

Paul been looking to Titus, he would have been disappointed.

Thus it is in every case. Our immediate and exclusive reference must

be to God in all our need. "We have turned _to God_ from idols;" and

hence in every exigence He is our sure resource. We can go to Him for

counsel, for succor, for guidance, for sympathy, for all. "My soul,

wait thou _only_ upon God, for my expectation is from Him. He _only_

is my rock and my salvation; He is my defence; I shall not be moved."

Will this most blessed habit of looking only to God lead us to

undervalue the channels through which His precious grace flows to us?

The very reverse. How could I undervalue one who comes to me directly

from God, as His manifest instrument, to meet my need? Impossible. But

I value him as a channel, instead of applying to him as a source. This

makes all the difference. We must never forget that true conversion

means our being brought to God; and most surely, if we are brought to

God, it is in order that we should find in Him a perfect covering for

our eyes, a perfect object for the heart, a perfect resource in all

our exigencies, from first to last. A truly converted soul is one who

is turned from all creature confidences, human hopes, and earthly

expectations, to find all he wants in the living and true God, and

that forever.

PART VII.

We are now called to consider a deeply practical point in our subject.

It is contained in the clause, "_To serve the living and true God_."

This is full of interest to every truly converted soul, every true

Christian. We are called "to serve." Our whole life, from the moment

of our conversion to the close of our earthly career, should be

characterized by a spirit of true, earnest, intelligent service. This

is our high privilege, not to say our hallowed duty. It matters not

what our sphere of action may be, what our line of life, or what our

calling; when we are converted, we have just got one thing to do,

namely, to serve God. If there be anything in our calling which is

contrary to the revealed will of God--contrary to the direct teaching

of His word--then we must at once abandon it, cost what it may. The

very first step of an obedient servant is to step out of a false

position, be it what it may.

We are called to serve God, and everything must be tried by this

standard. The Christian has to ask himself this one question, "Can I

fulfil the duties of this situation to the glory of God?" If not, he

must abandon it. If we cannot connect the name of God with our calling

in life, then, assuredly, if we want to walk with God, if we aim at

serving Him, if it be our one desire to be found well-pleasing in His

sight, then we must give up that calling and look to Him to open some

path for us in which we can walk to His praise.

This He will do, blessed be His name. He never fails a trusting soul.

All we have to do is to cleave to Him with purpose of heart, and He

will make the way plain before us. It may seem difficult at first. The

path may appear narrow, rough, lonely; but our simple business is to

stand for God, and not to continue for one hour in connection with

anything contrary to His revealed will. A tender conscience, a single

eye, a devoted heart, will settle many a question, solve many a

difficulty, remove many a barrier. Indeed, the very instincts of the

divine nature, if only they be allowed to act, will guide in many a

perplexity. "The light of the body is the eye; therefore, when thine

eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light." When the purpose

of the heart is true to Christ, true to His name and cause, true to

the service of God, the Holy Spirit opens up the precious treasures of

divine revelation to the soul, and pours a flood of living light upon

the understanding, so that we see the path of service as clear as a

sunbeam before us, and we have only got to tread it with a firm step.

But we must never, for one moment, lose sight of the grand fact that

we are converted to the service of God. The outcome of the life which

we possess must ever take the form of service to the living and true

God. In our unconverted days we worshiped idols, and served divers

lusts and pleasures; now, on the contrary, we worship God in the

Spirit, and we are called to serve Him with all our ransomed powers.

We have turned to God, to find in Him our perfect rest and

satisfaction. There is not a single thing in the entire range of a

creature's necessities, for time and eternity, that we cannot find in

our own most gracious God and Father. He has treasured up in Christ,

the Son of His love, all that can satisfy the desires of the new life

in us. It is our privilege to have Christ dwelling in our hearts by

faith, and to be so rooted and grounded in love as to be able to

comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth,

and height, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge,

that we may be filled with all the fulness of God.

Thus filled, satisfied and strengthened, we are called to dedicate

ourselves, spirit, soul and body, to the service of Christ; to be

steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. We

should have nothing else to do in this world. Whatever cannot be done

as service to Christ ought not to be done at all. This simplifies the

matter amazingly. It is our sweet privilege to do everything in the

name of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God. We sometimes hear

people speak of "a secular calling," as contrasted with what is

"sacred." We question the correctness of such a distinction. Paul made

tents and planted churches, but in both he served the Lord Christ. All

that a Christian does ought to be sacred, because it is done as

service to God. If this were borne in mind, it would enable us to

connect the very simplest duties of daily life with the Lord Himself,

and to bring Him into them in such a way as to impart a holy dignity

and interest to all that we have to do, from morning till night. In

this way, instead of finding the duties of our calling a hindrance to

our communion with God, we should actually make them an occasion of

waiting on Him for wisdom and grace to discharge them aright, so that

His holy name might be glorified in the most minute details of

practical life.

The fact is that the service of God is a much simpler matter than some

of us imagine. It does not consist in doing some wonderful things

beyond the bounds of our divinely appointed sphere of action. Take the

case of a domestic servant. How can she serve the living and true God?

She cannot go about visiting and talking. Her sphere of action lies in

the shade and retirement of her master's house. Were she to run about

from house to house, she would be actually neglecting her proper work,

her divinely appointed business. Harken to the following sound and

wholesome words: "Exhort servants to be obedient unto their own

masters, and to please them well in all things; not answering again:

not purloining, but showing all good fidelity; that they may adorn the

doctrine of God our Saviour in all things" (Titus ii. 9, 10).

Here we see that the servant, by obedience, humility and honesty can

adorn the doctrine of God just as effectually, according to her

measure, as an evangelist ranging the world over in the discharge of

his high and holy commission.

Again, we read, "Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters

according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your

heart, as unto Christ; not with eye-service as men-pleasers, but as

_the servants of Christ_, doing the will of God from the heart; with

good-will doing _service_, as to the Lord, and not to men; knowing

that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of

the Lord, whether he be bond or free" (Eph. vi.).

How lovely is all this! What a fine field of service is opened up for

us here! How beautiful this "fear and trembling!" Where do we see it

nowadays? Where is the holy subjection to authority? Where the

singleness of eye? Where the willing-hearted service? Alas! we see

headiness and high-mindedness, self-will, self-pleasing, and

self-interest. How must all these things dishonor the Lord, and grieve

His Holy Spirit! How needful that our souls should be roused to a

sense of what becomes us as those who are called to serve the living

and true God! Is it not a signal mercy to every true Christian to know

that he can serve and glorify God in the most commonplace domestic

duties? If it were not so, what would become of ninety-nine out of

every hundred Christians?

We have taken up the case of an ordinary domestic servant in order to

illustrate that special line of practical truth now under our

consideration. Is it not most blessed for us to know that our God

graciously condescends to connect His name and His glory with the very

humblest duties that can devolve upon us in our ordinary domestic

life? It is this which imparts dignity, interest and freshness to

every little act, from morning till night. "Whatsoever ye do, do it

_heartily_, as unto the Lord, and not unto men." Here lies the

precious secret of the whole matter. It is not working for wages, but

serving the Lord Christ, and looking to Him to receive the reward of

the inheritance.

Oh that all this were more fully realized and illustrated amongst us!

What moral elevation it would give to the entire Christian life! What

a triumphant answer it would furnish to the infidel! What a withering

rebuke to all his sneers and cavils! Better by far than ten thousand

learned arguments. There is no argument so forcible as an earnest,

devoted, holy, happy, self-sacrificing Christian life, and this life

can be displayed by one whose sphere of action is bounded by the four

walls of a kitchen.[2]

[2] It is remarkable that both in Eph. vi. and Col. iii. the address

to servants is far more elaborate than to any of the other classes. In

Titus ii. servants are specially singled out. There is no address to

husbands, none to masters, none to children. We do not attempt to

account for this, but we cannot help noticing it as a very interesting

fact; and most assuredly it teaches us what a very important place is

assigned in Christianity to one who, in those early days of the

Church's history, occupied the place of a slave. The Holy Ghost took

special pains to instruct such an one as to how he was to carry

himself in his most trying sphere of work. The poor slave might think

himself shut out from the service of God. So far from this, he is

sweetly taught that by simply doing his duty as in the sight of God he

could adorn the doctrine of God his Saviour, and bring glory to the

name of Jesus. Nothing can exceed the grace that shines in this.

And not only does the practical life of a true Christian afford the

very best possible answer to the skeptic and the infidel, but it also

meets in a most satisfactory manner the objections of those who talk

about works, and insist upon putting Christians under the law, in

order to teach them how to live. When people challenge us as to our

not preaching up works, we simply ask them, "For what should we preach

works?" The unconverted man cannot do any works, save "wicked works,"

or "dead works." "They that are in the flesh"--unconverted

people--"cannot please God." Of what possible use can it be to preach

works to such? It can only cast dust in their eyes, blind their minds,

deceive their hearts, and send them down to hell with a lie in their

right hand.

_There must be genuine conversion to God._ This is a divine work from

first to last. And what has the converted man got to do? He certainly

has not to work for life, because he has it, even life eternal, as

God's free gift, through Jesus Christ our Lord. He has not to work for

salvation, because he is saved already--"saved in the Lord with an

everlasting salvation." What, then, is he called to do? "To serve the

living and true God." How? When? Where? In everything; at all times,

and in all places. The converted man has nothing else to do but to

serve God. If he does anything else, he is positively untrue,

unfaithful to that blessed Lord and Master who, ere ever He called him

to serve, endowed him with the life, and the grace, and the power,

whereby alone the service can be rendered.

Yes, reader, the Christian is called to serve. Let us never forget

this. He is privileged to "present his body as a living sacrifice,

holy and acceptable to God, which is his reasonable (his intelligent)

service." This settles the whole question. It removes all

difficulties; it silences all objections; it puts everything in its

right place. It is not a question of what I am doing, but how I do

it--not where I am, but how I conduct myself. Christianity as

displayed in the New Testament is the outcome of the life of Christ in

the believer; it is Christ reproduced in the Christian's daily life,

by the power of the Holy Ghost. Everything the Christian touches,

everything he does, everything he says, his whole practical life, from

Lord's-day morning till Saturday night, should bear the impress and

breathe the spirit of that great practical clause on which we have

been dwelling--"serving the living and true God." May it be so more

and more! May all the Lord's beloved people, everywhere, be really

stirred up to seek more earnest, out-and-out, whole-hearted

devotedness to Christ and His precious service!

PART VIII

The last words of our chapter--1 Thess. i.--now claim our attention.

They furnish a very striking and forcible proof of the clearness,

fulness, depth and comprehensiveness of the apostle's testimony at

Thessalonica, and also of the brightness and reality of the work in

the young converts in that place. It was not only that they turned

from idols to God, to serve the living and true God. This, through

grace, they did; and that, too, with uncommon power, freshness, and

fervor.

But there was something more; and we may assert, with all possible

confidence, that there would have been a grand defect in the

conversion and in the Christianity of those beloved disciples if that

had been lacking. _They were converted "to wait for the Son of God

from the heavens."_

Let the reader give to this very weighty fact his most devout

attention. The bright and blessed hope of the Lord's coming formed an

integral part of the gospel which Paul preached, and of the

Christianity of those who were converted by his ministry. That blessed

servant preached a full gospel. He not only declared that the Son of

God had come into the world to accomplish the great work of

redemption, and lay the everlasting foundation of the divine glory and

counsels, but that He had gone back to the heavens, and taken His

seat as the victorious, exalted and glorified Man, at the right hand

of the throne of God; and that He is coming again; first, to receive

His people to Himself, and conduct them into the very innermost circle

of His Father's house--the place prepared for them: and then to come

forth _with_ them, to execute judgment upon His enemies--gather out of

His kingdom all that offend, and all that do iniquity, and set up His

glorious dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of

the earth.

All this was included in the precious gospel which Paul preached, and

which the Thessalonian converts received. We find an indirect but very

interesting intimation of this in a passage in Acts xvii., where the

inspired writer records what the infidel Jews thought and said about

the apostle's preaching. "But the Jews which believed not, moved with

envy, took unto them certain lewd fellows of the baser sort, and

gathered a company, and set all the city on an uproar, and assaulted

the house of Jason, and sought to bring them out to the people. And

when they found them not, they drew Jason and certain brethren unto

the rulers of the city, crying, _These that have turned the world

upside down_ are come hither also; whom Jason hath received; and these

all do contrary to the decrees of Cæsar, _saying that there is another

king, Jesus_."

Such were the ideas which these poor, ignorant, prejudiced unbelievers

gathered from the preaching of the Lord's beloved servants; and we can

see in them the elements of great and solemn truths--the complete

upturning of the present system of things, and the establishment of

the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. "I will

overturn, overturn, overturn it; and it shall be no more, until He

come whose right it is; and I will give it Him" (Ezek. xxi. 27).

But not only did the Lord's coming and kingdom occupy a prominent

place in the _preaching_ of the apostle, it also shines brilliantly

forth in all his _teaching_. Not only were the Thessalonians converted

to this blessed hope, they were built up, established and led on in

it. They were taught to live in the brightness of it every hour of the

day. It was not a dry, barren dogma, to be received and held as part

of a powerless, worthless creed; it was a living reality, a mighty

moral power in the soul--a precious, purifying, sanctifying, elevating

hope, detaching the heart completely from present things, and causing

it to look out, moment by moment--yes, reader, we repeat it with

emphasis, moment by moment--for the return of our beloved Lord and

Saviour Jesus Christ, who loved us, and gave Himself for us.

It is interesting to notice that in the two epistles to the

Thessalonians there is far more allusion to the Lord's coming than in

all the other epistles put together. This is all the more remarkable

inasmuch as they were the very earliest of Paul's epistles, and they

were written to an assembly very young in the faith.

If the reader will just glance rapidly through these two most precious

writings, he will find the hope of the Lord's return introduced in

every one of the eight chapters, and in connection with all sorts of

subjects. For example, in chap. i. we have it presented as the grand

object to be ever kept before the Christian's heart, let his position

or his relationship be what it may--the brilliant light shining at the

end of his long pilgrimage through this dark and toilsome world. "Ye

turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to

wait for"--what? The time of their death? No such thing, no allusion

to such a thing. Death, for the believer, is abolished, and is never

presented as the object of his hope. For what, then, were the

Thessalonian disciples taught to wait? "For God's Son from heaven,

whom He raised from the dead."

And then mark the beauteous addition! "Jesus, which delivered us from

the wrath to come." This is the Person for whom we are waiting; our

precious Saviour; our great Deliverer; the One who undertook our

desperate case; who took, on our behalf, the cup of wrath from the

hand of infinite Justice and exhausted it forever; who cleared the

prospect of every cloud, so that we can gaze upward into heaven, and

onward into eternity, and see nothing but the brightness and

blessedness of His own love and glory, as our happy home throughout

the everlasting ages.

Oh, beloved Christian reader, how blessed to be looking out, morning,

noon, eventide, and midnight, for the coming of our gracious

Deliverer! What a holy reality to be ever waiting for the return of

our own loving and beloved Saviour and Lord! How separating and

elevating, as we rise each morning to start on our daily course of

duty--whatever that duty may be, whether the scrubbing of a floor or

the preaching of the gospel--to cherish the bright and blessed hope

that, ere the shades of evening gather round us, we may be summoned to

ascend in the folds of the cloud of glory to meet our coming Lord!

Is this the dream of a wild fanatic or a visionary enthusiast? Nay, it

is an imperishable truth, resting on the very same foundation that

sustains the entire fabric of our most glorious Christianity. Is it

true that the Son of God has trod this earth of ours in the person of

Jesus of Nazareth? Is it true that He lived and labored here, amid the

sins and sorrows of poor, fallen humanity? Is it true that He sighed,

and wept, and groaned, under the sense of the widespread desolation

which sin had wrought in this world? Is it true that He went to the

cross, and there offered Himself without spot to God, in order to

vindicate the Divine Majesty; to answer all the claims of the throne

of God; to destroy all the works of the devil; to make a public show

of all the powers of hell; to put away sin by the sacrifice of

Himself; to bear the sins of all those who, from the beginning to the

end of time, should, through grace, believe in His name? Is it true

that He lay for three days and three nights in the heart of the

earth, and on the first day of the week rose triumphant from the

grave, as the Head of the new creation, and ascended into the heavens,

after He had been seen by at least five hundred witnesses? Is it true

that fifty days after His resurrection He sent down the Holy Ghost, in

order to fill and fit His apostles to be His witnesses to the ends of

the earth? Is it true that from the day of Pentecost to this very hour

He has been acting on His people's behalf as an Advocate with the

Father, a great High Priest with God; interceding for us in all our

failures, sins and shortcomings, and sympathizing with us in all our

infirmities and in all our sorrows; and presenting continually our

sacrifices of prayer and praise, in all the fragrance of His own

glorious Person?

Are all these things true? Yes, thank God, they are all divinely true,

all set forth in the pages of the New Testament, with most marvelous

fulness, clearness, depth, and power; all rest on the solid foundation

of Holy Scripture--a foundation which not all the powers of earth and

hell, men and devils, can ever touch.

Well, then, the blessed hope of the Lord's coming rests on precisely

the same authority. It is not more true that our Lord Jesus Christ lay

as a babe in the manger of Bethlehem, that He grew up to man's estate,

that He went about doing good, that He was nailed to the cross and

laid in the tomb, that He is now seated on the throne of the Majesty

in the heavens, than that He will come again to receive His people to

Himself. He may come to-night. No one can tell when He will come, but

at any moment He may come. The only thing that detains Him is His

long-suffering, not willing that any should perish, but that all

should come to repentance. For eighteen long centuries has He waited

in lingering love, mercy, and compassion; and during all that time

salvation has been ready to be revealed, and God has been ready to

judge; but He has waited, and He still waits, in long-suffering grace

and patience.

But He will come, and we should ever live in the hope of His coming.

Thus the apostle taught his beloved Thessalonians to live. Thus he

lived himself. The blessed hope was intimately bound up with all the

habits and feelings of his daily life. Was it a question of reaping

the fruit of his labors? Hear what he says: "For what is our hope, or

joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye, in the presence of our

Lord Jesus Christ, _at His coming_?" He would see them all then and

there. No enemy will be allowed to hinder that meeting. "We would have

come unto you, even I Paul, once and again, but Satan hindered us."

Very wonderful! Very mysterious! Yet so it was. Satan hindered an

angel of God in the discharge of his business in the days of Daniel;

and he hindered an apostle of Christ in the accomplishment of his

loving desire to see his brethren at Thessalonica. But, thanks be to

God, he will not be able to hinder the joyful meeting of Christ and

His saints for which we wait. What a moment that will be! What

precious reunions! What sweet recognitions! What affectionate

greetings of dear old friends! But, far above all, Himself! His smile!

His welcome! His soul-stirring "Well done!"

What a precious, soul-sustaining hope! Need we wonder at the prominent

place it occupied in the thoughts and the teachings of the blessed

apostle? He recurs to it on all occasions, and in connection with

every subject. Is it a question of progress in the divine life and

practical godliness? Thus he puts it: "And the Lord make you to

increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all, even

as we do toward you; to the end He may establish your hearts

unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, _at the coming of

our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints_."

Let the reader specially mark the last clause of this touching and

beautiful quotation. "_With all His saints._" What admirable wisdom

shines here! The apostle was about to touch directly upon an error

into which the Thessalonian believers had fallen in reference to their

departed friends. They feared that those who had fallen asleep would

not participate in the joy of the Lord's coming. This error is

completely demolished by that brief sentence, "with _all_ His saints."

Not one will be absent from that joyous meeting, that festive scene.

Blessed assurance! Triumphant answer to all who would have us believe

that none will share the joy of our Lord's coming save those who see

this, that, and the other! "With _all_ his saints," spite of their

ignorance and their errors, their wanderings and their stumblings,

their shortcomings and their failures. Our blessed Saviour, the

everlasting Lover of our souls, will not shut any of us out at that

blissful moment.

Is all this matchless grace to make us careless? God forbid! Nay, it

is the abiding sense of it which alone can keep us alive to our holy

responsibility to judge everything in us and in our ways which is

contrary to the mind of Christ. And not only so, but the hope of our

Lord's return, if it be kept bright and fresh in the heart, _must_

purify, sanctify and elevate our entire character and course as

nothing else can. "Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth

himself, even as He is pure." It is morally impossible for any one to

_live_ in the hope of seeing his Lord at any moment and yet have his

heart set upon worldly things--upon money-making, self-indulgence,

pleasure, vanity, folly. Let us not deceive ourselves. If we are daily

looking out for the Son of God from heaven, we must sit loose to the

things of time and sense. We may hold the doctrine of the Lord's

coming as a mere dogma in the intellect; we may have the entire range

of prophetic truth mapped out before our mind's eye, without its

producing the smallest effect upon the heart, the character, or the

practical life. But it is another thing altogether to have the whole

moral being, the entire practical career, governed by the bright and

blessed hope of seeing the One who loveth us and hath washed us from

our sins in His own most precious blood.

Would there were more of this amongst us! It is to be feared that many

of us have lost the freshness and power of our true and proper hope.

The truth of the Lord's coming has become so familiar as a mere

doctrine that we can flippantly speak of it, and discuss various

points in connection with it, and argue with people about it, and all

the while our ways, our deportment, our spirit and temper give the lie

to what we profess to hold.

But we shall not pursue this sad and humbling side of the subject. May

the Lord look upon us, and graciously heal, restore and lift up our

souls! May He revive in the hearts of all His beloved people the

proper Christian hope--the hope of seeing the bright and Morning Star.

May the utterance of the whole heart and the utterance of the whole

life be, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!"

Here we must close this paper. We had hoped to run through the two

epistles to the Thessalonians in company with our readers, in order to

prove and illustrate the statement that the hope of the Lord's return

was bound up in the heart of the apostle, with all the scenes,

circumstances and associations of Christian life. But we must allow

the reader to do this for himself. Sufficient, we trust, has been said

to show that true conversion, according to apostolic teaching, cannot

stop short of the blessed hope of the Lord's coming. A truly converted

person is one who has turned from idols--has broken with the

world--broken with his former self--turned to God, to find in Him all

he can possibly want for time and eternity, to serve Him, and Him

only--and, finally, "to wait for the Son of God from heaven." Such we

conceive to be the true and proper answer to the question, "What is

conversion?"

Reader, art _thou_ converted? If not, what then? If thou art, does thy

life declare it?

SIMON PETER:

HIS LIFE AND ITS LESSONS

PART I.

We propose, in dependence upon the Spirit's guidance, to write a few

papers on the life and ministry of the blessed servant of Christ whose

name stands at the head of this paper. We shall trace him through the

Gospels, through the Acts, and through the Epistles, for he appears in

all the three grand divisions of the New Testament. We shall meditate

upon his call, upon his conversion, his confession, his fall, his

restoration; in a word, we shall glance at all the scenes and

circumstances of his remarkable history, in which we shall find, if we

mistake not, many valuable lessons which we may well ponder. May the

Lord the Spirit be our Guide and Teacher!

For the earliest notice of Simon Peter, we must turn to the first

chapter of the Gospel of John. Here we find, at the very outset, a

scene full of interest and instruction. Amongst those who had been

gathered by the powerful ministry of John the Baptist there were two

men who heard him deliver his glowing testimony to the Lamb of God. We

must quote the words: "Again the next day after John stood, and two of

his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold

the Lamb of God."

These words fell with peculiar power upon the hearts of two of John's

disciples. Not that the words were specially addressed to them; at

least, we are not told so. But they were words of life, freshness, and

power--words welling up from the depths of a heart that had found an

object in the person of Christ. On the preceding day, John had spoken

of the work of Christ. "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the

sin of the world." And again, "The same is he which baptizeth with the

Holy Ghost."

But let the reader note particularly John's testimony to the _person_

of the Lamb of God. "John stood," riveted, no doubt, by the object

which filled the vision of his soul. "And looking upon Jesus, as he

walked, he said, Behold the Lamb of God." It was this that went right

to the very heart of the two disciples who stood beside him, and so

affected them that they left their master to follow this new and

infinitely more glorious Object that had been presented to their

notice.

There is always immense moral power in the testimony that emanates

from an absorbed heart. There is nothing formal, official, or

mechanical, in such testimony. It is the pure fruit of heart

communion; and there is nothing like it. It is not the mere statement

of true things about Christ. It is the heart occupied and satisfied

with Christ. It is the eye riveted, the heart fixed, the whole moral

being centred and absorbed in that one commanding object that fills

all heaven with His glory.

This is the kind of testimony we so much want both in our private life

and in our public reunions. It is this that tells, with such marvelous

power, on others. We never can speak effectively for Christ, unless

our hearts are filled with Him. And so it is also, in reference to our

meetings. When Christ is the one absorbing object of every heart,

there will be a tone and an atmosphere which must tell in some way or

other on all who enter the place. There may not be much gift, not much

teaching--very little charm in the singing, for persons of musical

taste; but oh! there is heart-enjoyment of Christ. His name is as

ointment poured forth. Every eye is fixed on Him; every heart is

centred in Him; He is the commanding object--the satisfying portion.

The unanimous voice of the assembly seems to say, "Behold the Lamb of

God," and this must produce its own powerful effect, either in

attracting souls to Him, or in convincing them that the people in that

assembly have gotten something of which they know nothing at all.

But let us note particularly the effect produced on the two disciples

of John. "They heard him speak and they followed Jesus. Then Jesus

turned, and saw them following, and saith unto them, What seek ye?

They said unto Him, Rabbi--which is to say, being interpreted,

Master--where dwellest thou? He saith unto them, Come and see. They

came and saw where He dwelt, and abode with Him that day; for it was

about the tenth hour." Thus the blessed testimony of the Baptist led

them to follow Jesus, and as they followed on, fresh light was poured

upon their path, and they found themselves, at length, in the very

abode of that One of whom they had heard their master speak.

Nor was this all, though it was much--with their own hearts' deepest

longings satisfied. There was now that delightful going out after

others which must, in every instance, be the result of close personal

acquaintance and occupation with the Person of Christ. "One of the two

which heard John, and followed Jesus, was Andrew, Simon Peter's

brother. He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him,

We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ.

And he brought him to Jesus."

Here is something which we may well ponder. See how the circle of

blessing widens! See the result of a single sentence uttered in truth

and reality! It might seem to a carnal observer as though John had

lost by his testimony. Far from it. That honored servant found his joy

in pointing souls to Jesus. He did not want to link them on to

himself, or to gather a party round himself. "John bare witness of

Him, and cried saying, This was He of whom I spake, He that cometh

after me is preferred before me." And again, "This is the record of

John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask

him, Who art thou? And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I

am not the Christ. And they ask him, What then? Art thou Elias? And he

saith, I am not. Art thou that prophet? And he answered, No. Then

said they unto him, Who art thou? that we may give an answer to them

that sent us. What sayest thou of thyself? He said, I am the voice of

one crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord, as

said the prophet Esaias. And they which were sent were of the

Pharisees." What a fine moral lesson for Pharisees to be set down to!

"And they asked him, and said unto him, Why baptizest thou then, if

thou be not that Christ, nor Elias, neither that prophet? John

answered them, saying, I baptize with water: but there standeth One

among you, whom ye know not. He it is, who coming after me is

preferred before me, whose shoe's latchet I am not worthy to unloose."

It is not very likely that the man who could give such answers, and

bear such a testimony, would be, in the smallest degree, affected by

the loss of a few disciples. But, in good truth it was not loosing

them when they followed Jesus and found their abode with Him. Of this

we have the very finest evidence that could be furnished, from John's

own lips, in reply to those who evidently thought that their master

might possibly feel at being left in the shade. "They came unto John,

and said unto him, Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom

thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all come to Him.

John answered and said, _A man can receive nothing, except it be given

him from heaven_. Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not

the Christ, but that I am sent before Him. He that hath the bride is

the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and

heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice:

_this my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must increase, but I must

decrease_" (John iii. 26-30).

Noble words! It was the joy of this most illustrious servant--this

greatest of woman-born, to hide himself behind his Master, and find

all his personal springs in Him. As to himself, he was but a voice. As

to his work, he was only baptizing with water, he was not worthy to

loose the latchet of his Master's shoe.

Such was John. Such the man whose glowing testimony led the brother of

Simon Peter to the feet of the Son of God. The testimony was clear and

distinct, and the work deep and real in the souls of those who

received it.

It does the heart good to note the simple, earnest, forcible words of

Simon's brother, Andrew. He is able to say, without reserve or

hesitation, "_We have found_ the Messias." It was this that led him to

look after his brother. He lost no time. Saved and blessed himself, he

would, at once, begin to lead his brother into the same blessing.

How simple! How morally lovely! How divinely natural! No sooner had he

found the Messias, than he went in search of his brother to tell him

of his joy. It must ever be thus. We cannot doubt for a moment, that

the actual finding Christ for ourselves is the true secret of looking

after others. There is no uncertainty in Andrew's testimony--no

wavering--no doubting or fearing. He does not even say, "I hope I have

found." No; all is clear and distinct; and, we may say, with all

possible assurance, it would not have done Simon Peter much good had

it been anything else. An uncertain sound is not much use to any one.

It is a grand point to be able to say, "_I have found Christ_."

Reader, can you say it? Doubtless, you have heard of Him. It may be

you have heard from the lips of some ardent lover of Jesus, "Behold

the Lamb of God." But have you followed that blessed One? If so, you

will long to find some one to whom you can speak of your newly found

treasure, and bring him to Jesus. Begin at home. Get hold of your

brother, or your sister, or your companion, your fellow-student, your

fellow-shopman, your fellow-workman, your fellow-servant, and whisper

lovingly, but clearly and decidedly, into his ear, "I have found

Jesus. Do come, taste and see how gracious He is. Come! oh do come to

Jesus." Remember this was the way that the great apostle Peter was

first called. He first heard of Jesus from the lips of his own brother

Andrew. This mighty workman--this great preacher who was blessed, on

one occasion, to three thousand souls--who opened the Kingdom of

heaven to the Jew in Acts iii. and to the Gentile in Acts x.--this

blessed servant was brought to Christ by the hand of his own brother

in the flesh.