1. "We have no great faith in _sudden_ conversions," is a form of
expression in which we hear revivals objected to, when the subject
happens to be the topic of conversation in ordinary society.
Alas! how many have little faith in the necessity of _any_ conversion!
A want of hearty conviction regarding human sinfulness and guilt, and
a tendency rather to flatter man's character, worship his genius, and
almost deify his powers, lies too much at the root of many of the
views and feelings of our day about religion; and hence there is a
corresponding want of faith in the necessity of that "new life" which
some time or other every one must possess, or in the "supernatural"
means required either for the removal of man's guilt and his
restoration to the Divine favour, or for the renewal of man's nature
and his restoration to the Divine image. There are, in short
very inadequate convictions--if these are brought to a Scripture
test--either as to the state _out_ of which or _into_ which every man
must be brought before he can be saved. But, nevertheless, there are
moral necessities grounded on the character of God as it is, and the
character of man as it is and ought to be, which remain the same in
every age and clime. Some of these necessities are expressed by such
declarations as--"Ye must be born again." "Except ye be converted,
and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of
heaven." "If any man is in Christ Jesus, he is a new creature."
Yet while conversion is absolutely necessary for every man, we by no
means assert that its inner history must, in each step, be necessarily
the same, though the results must be essentially the same in every
case. The Spirit of God, who works when and how He pleases, may, in
some cases, so work in the soul from its earliest years, that the time
when the seed of a new life entered it, and the process by which it
has gradually increased there, until it now brings forth fruit, are
both unknown. Not unknown is _the fact_ that life is there, for it
is recognised and evidenced by its fruit, but _when_ it began may be
unknown; and the rate or successive stages of its increase may be
equally unknown, or at least unmarked.
This is true in some cases--or, let it be admitted, in many cases,
chiefly among those favoured ones who have been reared from childhood
within the paradise of a truly Christian home,--still, why should
we deny the reality of many conversions on the mere ground of their
suddenness?
We shall not appeal to authentic historical facts to refute the
objection, but simply remind our readers of such sudden conversions as
those of Paul the apostle, the jailer at Philippi, or the thousands on
the day of Pentecost at Jerusalem. Would we be warranted in rejecting
those, because a few days or hours only marked a transition from death
to life, from darkness to light, from their serving Satan to serving
God, from being enemies to their being friends of Jesus?
But apart from this evidence, what, we would ask, is there in the
nature of conversion inconsistent with its alleged suddenness? There
may indeed be a _preparedness_ for it that may occupy much time, as
dawn ushers in the sunrise, or as months of travail precede the "child
born into the world;" and there maybe _results_ whose character may
require time to determine. Nevertheless, why should not conversion
itself, apart from its antecedents or consequents, be sudden? Let us
consider briefly what conversion is.
It is not, for example, the attainment of _good habits_ nor even the
doing of good works, though it leads to and must end in this, if
genuine. These are the _results_ of conversion. Nor, again, does it
imply anything like a full or accurate _knowledge_ of the Christian
scheme, far less of its "evidences;" for how little could have been
thus known by the converted jailer of Philippi, who was one day a
heathen, and the next day a baptized Christian--or by the converted
thief on the cross--or by the three thousand converts on the day of
Pentecost!
But in conversions there must be _thorough earnestness_ about the
salvation of the soul, or of our relationship to God. And why should
not this feeling be suddenly kindled? Men can be easily roused to
_sudden_ earnestness, in order to save their bodies, when they realise
present danger; and why not to save their souls? _If_, indeed, the
soul can never be in such danger, or if a man can never be ignorant or
forgetful of the fact, or if in no circumstances or by any means
he can be roused to a sense of his danger, then may such sudden
earnestness be impossible; but if his danger is real, and deliverance
near, surely all this is possible, and even probable, and of infinite
importance, seeing that the day of grace ends with life, and life may
end in any moment. If this night a man's soul may be required to give
its account, surely on this day conversion is required to make that
account one of joy, and not of sorrow.
Conversion implies also _faith in what God has revealed to us_. And
why should we not _at once_ believe God? Do we think it necessary
to hesitate for months and years ere we believe the word of an
honourable, truthful man, in matters of fact about which he cannot
possibly be mistaken? And shall we think it strange to believe God's
Word the moment we hear it? Now, that Word tells us many things which,
if true, cannot be believed without producing immediate results. It
tells us that we are lost sinners "condemned _already_;" that God, in
love, has had pity on us, and sent His Son to save us; that He died on
the cross for sinners, so that "whosoever believeth in Him shall never
perish;" that He lives to quicken and sanctify through His Spirit all
who will receive Him; that there is "no other name given under heaven
whereby a man can be saved;" and that "he who believeth not shall be
damned." Now, is it really impossible for a man at once to believe
all this, or even thus far to understand his danger, and believe the
gospel as the only deliverance? Does it seem strange that men should
have at once believed Christ, or any of His apostles, when _they_
preached? Or, does it not seem more strange that some were "fools, and
slow of heart to believe?" And why should it seem incredible that a
sincere and earnest man should now believe the moment he hears the
same gospel, and say, "I have been a great sinner in hitherto treating
this message with so much neglect! By my disbelief I have made God a
liar; I shall do so no more: Thy Word is truth. Lord, I believe; help
mine unbelief!"
Conversion implies a "yielding ourselves to God," because thus
believing in His love manifested through Jesus Christ and Him
crucified. Such a state of mind might be thus expressed: "Lord, I
shall fight against Thee no more! I believe in Thee, and yield myself
to Thee for time and eternity, to have the good pleasure of Thy
righteous will done in me and by me; to be pardoned, sanctified, and
governed wholly by Thyself, and in Thine own way. I am Thine--save
me!" Surely this attitude of soul may be assumed _at once_ towards God
the very moment the gospel of His goodwill to us, and of His desire to
possess our hearts, is heard.
Conversion implies some degree at least of _peace_ with God. Many
seem to think it almost presumptuous to look for peace or to expect
joy in God. "It betokens," they say, "a want of humility." Love and
humility are one. Both are a going out of ourselves, and finding our
good, strength, peace--_all_ in God. It is surely a poor compliment to
pay a friend, if we rebuke those who dare to be happy in his presence
or to find peace in his society. What hard thoughts have men of God
when they do not see how He must ever rejoice in the good and peace of
His children! Oh, shame upon us that we do not "rejoice in the Lord
_always_," and possess the "love which casteth out fear, for fear
hath torment." Why, then, should it seem impossible for a man to have
peace, the moment he can say with the apostle John, "We have known and
_believed_ the love that God hath to us?" Cannot that love be seen in
its own light when revealed? And if so, why should the possession of
_immediate_ peace, in a degree corresponding to faith in God, seem to
be so wonderful? Would not its absence be more so? The very _hope_,
methinks, of pardon, when first entertained by the condemned
criminal--or of deliverance and return to home, when first realised
by the shipwrecked sailor--or of life and health, when first deemed
probable even, by the hitherto despairing invalid--or of meeting his
long-injured, but still patient and loving father, by the miserable
prodigal--may well kindle sudden joy and peace. Much, no doubt, may
have been done before any hope could dawn to the captive, to the
shipwrecked, to the invalid, or the prodigal; yet the hope itself may
_suddenly_ flash on each, as the message enters the cell to assure the
criminal of his safety, or the signal is seen on the distant horizon
that promises succour to the mariner, or the smile plays on the
countenance of the physician, telling that the dread crisis is over
and that progress towards recovery has begun, or the remembrance of a
father's love is rekindled in the heart of the wanderer. And thus
a man who has been roused to see his moral guilt, as well as moral
depravity--to see his dread and terrible danger--may well find
unutterable peace _the very moment_ he believes that there is for him
deliverance from the evil, and forgiveness with God, "that He may be
feared"--or even when the _maybe_ dawns upon him that he, the hitherto
dead, careless, presumptuous sinner, has not been so shut out of his
Father's heart and home, but that there is yet grace omnipotent to
save _him_, to take away his sins, renew his whole being, and make him
and _keep_ him a child of God. When the prodigal in the far country
was planning only his return, he resolved to say to his father, "Make
me one of thy hired servants!" To be for a time a very slave in his
father's house, seemed in prospect as a very paradise when compared
with his present wretchedness; but to be received at once as a
son--_that_ he would not be so presumptuous as to dream of. Ah! he had
forgot his father's character in the far country. Unbelief had done
its work, and "cut off his hope." But however dark and dim his views
were, he nevertheless returned, was met afar off, and was at last
received in his father's arms. There he poured forth the confession
which relieved his choking heart, "I am no more worthy to be called
thy son!" True. But did he add, "Make me a hired servant?" No, he
could not, for he had already been received _as a son_.
Our Lord tells us how some hearers may receive the Word immediately
with joy, and yet give up when it is the occasion of their being
brought into outward perils or difficulties. Paul complained that
Demas had forsaken him, and John of many who, he says, "went out from
us." We must not think it strange, moreover, if the _visible_ Church
should ever and anon disclose to us how much evil as well as good
it contains. Our Lord never contemplated a Church on earth as
possible--owing to the sinful offences which must needs come--which
should be otherwise than a mixture of good and bad. There was one in
twelve of His own pure apostolic Church a traitor. Among the members
of the pentecostal Church, two were struck down dead for falsehood of
the blackest kind. Among the earliest professed converts in Samaria
was Simon Magus, in the bonds of iniquity. And so it will ever be. The
field will contain tares as well as wheat, and both must grow together
till the harvest; the net must gather into it bad fish as well as
good, until the great day of final separation comes at the end of the
world. But, nevertheless, the field may _now_ contain a glorious crop
of wheat, and the net, after a night of toil, be sometimes full of
good fish, so as to excite the wonder and praise of the "fishers of
men." Those converts who fall away have probably misunderstood the
true idea of the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. They looked for
safety from punishment apart from salvation from sin; upon Jesus as a
deliverer from guilt and hell only, and not also a deliverer from
sin, by giving that life which is heaven; they looked for that life
hereafter, and not now; or they imagined faith as an _act_ done once
for all--a coming to Christ once only for what was required, instead
of as _a state_ which receives at once pardon and acceptance through
the merits of Christ, and _abides_ in Christ for ever as the only
source of life.
We have dwelt upon this point longer than we had at first intended;
for the doubt so often expressed, of the possibility of one who is
lost finding _immediate_ peace when he finds his God--and so has
found himself--betrays great unbelief or great ignorance of God. Pride
is at its root;--a desire to find something wherewith to commend
ourselves to God--some evidence of a good character first--some work
done as a hired servant, in order to entitle us with any hope to call
God father and be at peace with Him; instead of our _beginning_ all
work by _first_ being at peace--by our being reconciled at once to God
through faith in His love to us, revealed in the atonement of Jesus
Christ. We may just add, what every true man knows, and rejoices to
know, that the hour which begins his peace with God necessarily begins
also war with all sin in his own heart. His friendship with God
implies enmity to all in himself which is opposed to God.
2. "But the whole tendency of revivals, and of this theory of sudden
conversions by means of any man's preaching, is to disparage God's
appointments of the Church and the family for accomplishing genuine
conversion."
If by this is meant that God ordinarily blesses for the saving of
souls what are termed "the means of grace," or "_the truth_ as it
is in Jesus," whether inculcated by the parent, the teacher, or the
minister, and presented to the mind, and impressed upon it patiently
and laboriously during a course of years,--then we also believe this,
and cordially admit it. Nay, we would have all "friends of revivals"
keenly alive to the danger of so expressing themselves as to seem even
to disparage such earnest painstaking, and we would have them to
avoid seeking to attain by a summary process what thousands strive to
attain, and actually do attain, only by a prayerful diligence, which
begins with sowing the seed in childhood, and never ceases until there
is the blade and the full ear ending in the golden harvest. We feel
assured that the faithful minister who has seen many souls born to God
under his teaching, will acknowledge that these results were connected
not so much, or probably not at all, with any sudden change, from some
striking sermon he had preached, but from a series of impressions
made by pious parents in their home-training, or by himself in his
congregational class, or by the whole tone and tenor of his public
ministrations, &c. How often has it thus happened that others have
laboured, and that he has but entered into their labours! The
conversion of his hearers has been the culminating point of a thousand
appliances, and, in the vast majority of cases, it has been reached by
degrees. The glorious summit has been attained, not by a leap from the
valley, but after many preparatory steps. The light of life has not
flashed out of darkness, but has dawned by imperceptible degrees,
until the glory of God was seen in the face of Christ Jesus. If the
new life itself has been suddenly experienced, yet let us not overlook
the preparatory work of the shaking of the dry bones, then of the bone
coming to its bone, and, finally, the flesh and skin covering the
skeleton, and so preparing a home in which the living spirit could
dwell and act. We cannot use language strong enough to express our
conviction of the blessing which, as an ordinary rule, is sure to
follow from the Lord on the faithful and prayerful labour of a pious
parent, Sabbath-school teacher, or pastor. Let nothing be said in
favour of wide-spread and sudden revivals to discourage these hopes! A
true revival, we believe, shall ever, in God's own time, attend such
labours. This is emphatically true regarding the work of the ministry.
We believe that the ministry is of God as much as the Bible is--one of
the most precious gifts obtained for the Church by the risen Saviour;
and that now, as ever, the preaching of the Word by ministers duly
prepared and regularly called and ordained by the Christian Church, is
the grand means for converting sinners; that this power never grows
old or loses its adaptation to the wants of man amidst the constant
changes of society, any more than a lens does in transmitting the rays
of the sun from age to age.
Yet, with all these admissions, and with profound veneration for the
ordinary calm and methodical means of grace, we can nevertheless
believe in wide-spread sudden "conversions," and that too through
other instrumentalities, and in circumstances which leave no doubt of
their being caused by what has been termed an extraordinary outpouring
of God's Spirit. For let us beware of dogmatising irreverently as to
when and how that living Spirit shall operate on the souls of men,
who worketh according to His own counsel of unerring and inscrutable
wisdom. "Who hath known the mind of the Lord, and who hath been his
counsellor, that he should instruct _him_?" As a Person, He acts as
"He wills," and in every case with perfect wisdom and perfect
love. And it is in keeping with this truth, or rather a necessary
consequence from it, that God's Spirit should teach and educate
individuals and churches differently, or at least in accordance with
their respective and specific wants. If His outward dispensations
towards the same person constantly vary, yet all work towards one end,
the soul's good,--even as the combinations of the elements vary day by
day, yet all help on the earth's fruitfulness,--we might expect that
His dealings with the _inner_ life of persons should also vary, while
one glorious scheme of education for heaven is carried on in all and
by all. And if so, why do we think it strange that an individual
should have his times of comparative spiritual darkness and light,
strength and weakness? or that churches should also experience
different kinds of treatment, so to speak, from the same wise Spirit,
yet all suited to advance more and more in the end, both in us and by
us, that kingdom which is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy
Ghost?
Then, again, as to the instrumentalities which God's Spirit employs,
these may be often exceptional to His general rule. For it is surely a
great mercy when the regular ministry, or any other ordinance of His,
becomes inefficient through sinful indifference or unbelief, that
He should raise up in such an emergency, and that too from the most
unexpected quarters, those who will do the work which others ought to
have done. The grand end of saving lost souls, and bringing many sons
and daughters unto God, cannot be sacrificed to any organisation
ordained for that purpose when it fails either to seek it or
accomplish it. Thus
"God fulfils Himself in many ways,
Lest one _good custom_ should corrupt the world."
If, therefore, we find, as a matter of fact, that some one who follows
not us--_why_ he does not follow with us we may not be able to
understand--is yet confessing Christ's name, and so doing Christ's
work that devils are cast out by him, we dare not say, "Forbid him."
Our Lord does not command us to forbid him, any more than He commands
him to follow us. He says only, "Forbid him not. He who is not against
us is for us." We all need humbly to act on such a principle. But
should we in our pride and ignorance condemn a sincere and faithful
labourer _for_ Christ, our Lord will not confirm our judgment. On the
other hand, he who does not "follow" the ministers of Christ's Church,
whom he finds already engaged in the Master's work, must answer to the
Lord for incurring so solemn and serious a responsibility.
But we must pass rapidly and more briefly to the consideration of one
other objection to revivals.
3. "We object entirely to revivals because of the great excitement
which attends them."