My dear young Friend,—As your mind becomes more enlightened in the
knowledge of divine things, I am sure you will ever find fresh cause
to wonder at the goodness of God. The contemplation of his character
is a theme of never-ending delight; and in proportion as we discover
our own worthlessness and guilt, we shall likewise have the brighter
manifestations of his unspeakable excellence. And it is most profitable
to cultivate such inquiries; for, the more we are impressed with the
infinite holiness and purity of God, our hatred to sin will increase.
This, again, directly leads to the promotion of genuine humility, and
lively gratitude, and unfeigned piety. We are humbled to the dust when
we think of “the rock from whence we are hewn;” that we are the apostate
children of apostate parents: still more so when we feel the awful
aggravation of our guilt, in having wilfully forsaken and estranged
ourselves from a God, whose peculiar characteristic is love; a God,
who, in spite of all our rebellions against his authority, and all our
violations of his law, and all our contempt of his gracious warnings, is
yet ready to extend his merciful forgiveness, and to restore his lost
favour to every penitent and returning sinner. I have often considered
the following passages from the prophecies of Isaiah, as a most engaging
and encouraging delineation of Divine goodness; “Therefore will the
Lord wait, that he may be gracious unto you; and therefore will he
be exalted, that he may have mercy upon you.” The most hardened and
abandoned criminal is often melted into tenderness by the compassionate
sympathy of the person whom he has offended. He not only humbly confesses
his guilt, but is overwhelmed with grateful, joyful surprise. So it
frequently happens, when the sinner, convinced of his guilt, first
discovers that the great God against whom he has been offending all his
life long, is actually waiting that he may be gracious; and is exalted
on a throne of mercy, as it were, for the very purpose of dispensing the
blessings of forgiveness. “The goodness of God leads him to repentance:”
and then, with the most affectionate humility, at once he leaves off his
rebellion, enlists himself into the service of so kind a Master, and,
with the newly converted Paul, exclaims, “Lord what wouldest thou have
me to do?” This devoted attachment kindles into acts of open and decided
piety. He feels his unspeakable obligations to redeeming love; and these
obligations are ever acquiring fresh strength, as he grows in a more
thorough knowledge of the “desperate wickedness” of his own heart: he
loves much, because much has been forgiven.
I doubt not but the workings of your own experience have some
correspondence with those I have described. You have now been happily led
to flee from the wrath to come, and to embrace Christ crucified as all
your salvation. But on the retrospect of former years, does it not strike
you with amazement that God did not “cut you down as a cumberer of the
ground?” that he did not inflict the awful curse which your unceasing
provocations had so justly incurred? that he persevered so long in a
course of tender forbearance? and, above all, that at last he should fix
upon you as a special object of his clemency, and “pluck you as a brand
from the burning?” You must ascribe all the change in your condition—the
condemnation from which you are rescued, and the blessings to which you
are exalted—to the free, unsought, and unmerited love of God in Christ
Jesus. O, my friend! let the range of your meditations often run in this
direction. It will take eternity itself to unfold the manifold wisdom,
and the matchless love of God, in the redemption of your soul; but, O!
begin the work at present, and let the beginning and the ending of your
reflections and your praise be, “Hear what the Lord hath done for me.”
Delight yourself in the Lord. It is, indeed, an interesting employment
to think on the glories of his person, the excellences of his character,
and the wisdom of all his dispensations, especially in reference to
yourself. It will expand your mind with the most sacred delight. It will,
unconsciously, cultivate a spirit of prayer and devotion; and in thus
holding communion with God, you will experience that “fulness of joy,”
which nothing earthly can bestow.
But, alas! methinks I can anticipate your lamentations. Are you not
desirous of telling me, that through the deceitfulness of sin, you are
often beguiled of your privileges, and robbed of those spiritual comforts
for which your soul pants? It is your wish to love God from every
consideration, but especially because he commended his love towards you,
in that, while you were a sinner, Christ died for you. It is your wish
to live in communion with your God, and to follow after that holiness
without which no man shall see his face. But your imaginations are full
of vanity, and your best endeavours after heavenly meditation are
interrupted and marred by the frequent intrusion of evil thoughts. All
this may be true enough in your case; for I firmly believe it accords
with the experience even of the most advanced Christians. But allow me to
say, that while you thus groan under the burden of remaining corruption,
and are grieved on account of your natural aversion to what is good,
you have reason to bless God for making you _feel_ your proneness to
evil, and teaching you that your _entire_ dependence must be on his
promised grace. At the same time that you confess and mourn over your
imperfections, are you not powerfully affected with a sense of the
Divine long-suffering, in bearing with them, and in even sympathizing
with you under them; and in the readiness with which our gracious God
condescends to help the infirmities, and supply all the wants of his
people? In short, as you grow in grace, you will always find growing
cause to humble yourself on account of your manifold short-comings, and
to exalt the Saviour for the riches of his grace and love, so freely,
so suitably, and so abundantly conferred. This is the tendency of the
whole gospel dispensation. The sinner is nothing, and can do nothing.
Christ Jesus is all in all. The blessings which he died to purchase, and
now for ever lives to bestow, are inestimable in their nature, infinite
in their extent, and eternal in their duration. O, amazing boon! And
these blessings are offered without money and without price. They are a
gift, a free gift; the gift of the great eternal God to the creatures
of his own formation: the gift of the heavenly Father to children who
are unconsciously upheld by his power, and fed by his bounty, and loaded
with his benefits from day to day. What condescension! what love! And
yet, strange to tell, both the Giver and the gift are alike despised
by blinded, degraded, ungrateful man! This is a most affecting and
humiliating view of human nature. But is it not a just one? We cannot
look around us without perceiving innumerable proofs of its truth.
Nor can even the renewed mind of a Christian free itself from the sad
accusation of undervaluing that great salvation, which nothing could
accomplish but the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of
God. How then shall those escape who despise the proffered mercy? Solemn
consideration!
But study you, my dear young friend, to keep yourself in the love of
God. Live habitually under the influence of your own unworthiness, and
of his unspeakable goodness. God is love: it is your duty to love him in
return, with _all_ your heart and soul. See that you never forget what
he has done to save you from everlasting perdition, and to raise you to
glory, and honour, and immortality. Remember the infinite obligations
under which you are laid; and let it be your constant aim to walk in his
ways, and to keep his commandments; to serve him with a willing mind;
to glorify him with your body and your spirit, which are his. Nor will
you ever find that this is a hard service. On the contrary, the nearer
you live to God, you will enjoy the larger measure of that “peace which
passeth all understanding.”