The reality, and necessity, of the operation of the Holy Spirit upon the

human heart, is a doctrine very frequently taught in the Scriptures. Our

Lord, in the passage from which the text is taken, speaks of the third

Person in the Trinity in such a manner as to convey the impression that

His agency is as indispensable, in order to spiritual life, as food is in

order to physical; that sinful man as much needs the influences of the

Holy Ghost as he does his daily bread. "If a son shall ask bread of any

of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?" If this is not at all

supposable, in the case of an affectionate earthly parent, much less is

it supposable that God the heavenly Father will refuse renewing and

sanctifying influences to them that ask for them. By employing such a

significant comparison as this, our Lord implies that there is as

pressing need of the gift in the one instance as in the other. For,

he does not compare spiritual influences with the mere luxuries of

life,--with wealth, fame, or power,--but with the very staff of life

itself. He selects the very bread by which the human body lives, to

illustrate the helpless sinner's need of the Holy Ghost. When God, by

his prophet, would teach His people that he would at some future time

bestow a rich and remarkable blessing upon them, He says: "I will pour

out my Spirit upon all flesh." When our Saviour was about to leave his

disciples, and was sending them forth as the ministers of his religion,

he promised them a direct and supernatural agency that should "reprove

the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment."

And the history of Christianity evinces both the necessity and reality of

Divine influences. God the Spirit has actually been present by a special

and peculiar agency, in this sinful and hardened world, and hence the

heart of flesh and the spread of vital religion. God the Spirit has

actually been absent, so far as concerns his special and peculiar agency,

and hence the continuance of the heart of stone, and the decline, and

sometimes the extinction of vital religion. Where the Holy Spirit has

been, specially and peculiarly, there the true Church of Christ has been,

and where the Holy Spirit has not been, specially and peculiarly, there,

the Church of Christ has not been; however carefully, or imposingly, the

externals of a church organization may have been maintained.

But there is no stronger, or more effective proof of the need of the

presence and agency of the Holy Spirit, than that which is derived from

the _nature of the case_, as it appears in the individual. Just in

proportion as we come to know our own moral condition, and our own moral

necessities, shall we see and feel that the origin and growth of holiness

within our earthly and alienated souls, without the agency of God the

Holy Spirit, is an utter impossibility. Let us then look into the

argument from the nature of the case, and consider this doctrine of a

direct Divine operation, in its relations to ourselves personally. Why,

then, does every man need these influences of the Holy Spirit which are

so cordially offered in the text?

1. He needs them, in the first place, in order that _he may be convinced

of the reality of the eternal world._

There is such a world. It has as actual an existence as Europe or Asia.

Though not an object for any one of the five senses, the invisible world

is as substantial as the great globe itself, and will be standing when

the elements shall have been melted with fervent heat, and the heavens

are no more. This eternal world, furthermore, is not only real, but it is

filled with realities that are yet more solemn. God inhabits it. The

judgment-seat of Christ is set up in it. Heaven is in it. Hell is in it.

Myriads of myriads of holy and happy spirits are there. Myriads of sinful

and wretched spirits are there. Nay, this unseen world is the _only_ real

world, and the objects in it the _only_ real objects, if we remember that

only that which is immutable deserves the name of real. If we employ the

eternal as the measure of real being, then all that is outside of

eternity is unreal and a vanity. This material world acquires

impressiveness for man, by virtue of the objects that fill it. His farm

is in it, his houses are upon it, solid mountains rise up from it, great

rivers run through it, and the old rolling heavens are bent over it. But

what is the transient reality of these objects, these morning vapors,

compared with the everlasting reality of such beings as God and the soul,

of such facts as holiness and sin, of such states as heaven and hell?

Here, then, we have in the unseen and eternal world a most solemn and

real object of knowledge; but where, among mankind, is the solemn and

vivid knowledge itself? Knowledge is the union of a fact with a feeling.

There may be a stone in the street, but unless I smite it with my foot,

or smite it with my eye, I have no knowledge of the stone. So, too, there

is an invisible world, outstanding and awfully impressive; but unless I

feel its influences, and stand with awe beneath its shadows, it is as

though it were not. Here is an orb that has risen up into the horizon,

but all eyes are shut.

For, no thoughtful observer fails to perceive that an earthly, and

unspiritual mode of thought and feeling is the prevalent one among men.

No one who has ever endeavored to arrest the attention of a fellow-man,

and give his thoughts an upward tendency towards eternity, will say that

the effort is easily and generally successful. On the contrary, if an

ethereal and holy inhabitant of heaven were to go up and down our earth,

and witness man's immersion in sense and time, the earthliness of his

views and aims, his neglect of spiritual objects and interests, his

absorption in this existence, and his forgetfulness of the other, it

would be difficult to convince him that he was among beings made in the

image of God, and was mingling with a race having an immortal destination

beyond the grave.

In this first feature of the case, then, as we find it in ourselves, and

see it in all our fellow-men, we have the first evidence of the need of

_awakening_ influences from on high. Since man, naturally, is destitute

of a solemn sense of eternal things, it is plain that there can be no

moral change produced in him, unless he is first wakened from this

drowze. He cannot become the subject of that new birth without which he

cannot see the kingdom of God, unless his torpor respecting the Unseen is

removed. Entirely satisfied as he now is with this mode of existence, and

thinking little or nothing about another, the first necessity in his case

is a startle, and an alarm. Difficult as he now finds it to be, to bring

the invisible world before his mind in a way to affect his feelings, he

needs to have it loom upon his inward vision with such power and

impressiveness that he cannot take his eye off, if he would. Lethargic as

he now is, respecting his own immortality, it is impossible for him to

live and act with constant reference to it, unless he is wakened to its

significance. Is it not self-evident, that if the sinner's present

indifference towards the invisible world, and his failure to feel its

solemn reality, continues through life, he will certainly enter that

state of existence with his present character? Looking into the human

spirit, and seeing how dead it is towards God and the future, must we

not say, that if this deadness to eternity lasts until the death of the

body, it will certainly be the death of the soul?

But, in what way can man be made to realize that there is an eternal

world, to which he is rapidly tending, and realities there, with which,

by the very constitution of his spirit, he is forever and indissolubly

connected either for bliss or woe? How shall thoughtless and earthly man,

as he treads these streets, and transacts all this business, and enjoys

life, be made to feel with misgiving, foreboding, and alarm, that there

is an eternity, and that he must soon enter it, as other men do, either

as a heaven or a hell for his soul? The answer to this question, so often

asked in sadness and sorrow by the preacher of the word, drives us back

to the throne of God and to a mightier agency than that of man.

For one thing is certain, that this apathy and deadness will never of

itself generate sensibility and life. Satan never casts out Satan. If

this slumberer be left to himself, he is lost. Should any man be given

over to the natural inclination of his heart, he would never be awakened.

Should his earthly mind receive no check, and his corrupt heart take its

own way, he would never realize that there is another world than this,

until he entered it. For, the worldly mind and the corrupt heart busy

themselves solely and happily with this existence. They find pleasure in

the things of this life, and therefore never look beyond them. Worldly

men do not interfere with their own present actual enjoyment. Who of this

class voluntarily makes himself unhappy, by thinking of subjects that are

gloomy to his mind? What man of the world starts up from his sweet sleep

and his pleasant dreams, and of his own accord looks the stern realities

of death and the judgment in the eye? No natural man begins to wound

himself, that he may be healed. No earthly man begins to slay himself,

that he may be made alive. Even when the natural heart is roused and

wakened by some foreign agency; some startling providence of God or some

Divine operation in the conscience, how soon, if left to its own motion

and tendency, does it relapse into its old slumber and sleep. The needle

has received a shock, but after a slight trembling and vibration it soon

settles again upon its axis, ever and steady to the north. It is plain,

that the sinner's worldly mind and apathetic nature will never conduct

him to a proper sense of Divine things.

The awakening, then, of the human soul, to an effectual apprehension of

eternal realities, must take its first issue from some other Being than

the drowzy and slumbering creature himself. We are not speaking of a few

serious thoughts that now and then fleet across the human mind, like

meteors at midnight, and are seen no more. We are speaking of that

permanent, that everlasting dawning of eternity, with its terrors and its

splendors, upon the human soul, which allows it no more repose, until it

is prepared for eternity upon good grounds and foundations; and with

reference to such a profound consciousness of the future state as this,

we say with confidence, that the awakening must proceed from some Being

who is far more alive to the solemnity and significance of eternal

duration than earthly man is. Without impulses from on high, the sinner

never rouses up to attend to the subject of religion. He lives on

indifferent to his religious interests, until _God_, who is more merciful

to his deathless soul than he himself is, by His providence startles him,

or by His Spirit in his conscience alarms him. Never, until God

interferes to disturb his dreams, and break up his slumber, does he

profoundly and permanently feel that he was made for another world, and

is fast going into it. How often does God say to the careless man:

"Arise, O sleeper, and Christ shall give thee light;" and how often does

he disregard the warning voice! How often does God stimulate his

conscience, and flare light into his mind; and how often does he stifle

down these inward convictions, and suffer the light to shine in the

darkness that comprehends it not! These facts in the personal history of

every sin-loving man show, that the human soul does not of its own

isolated action wake up to the realities of eternity. They also show that

God is very merciful to the human soul, in positively and powerfully

interfering for its welfare; but that man, in infinite folly and

wickedness, loves the sleep, and inclines to remain in it.

The Holy Spirit strives, but the human spirit resists.

II. In the second place, man needs the influences of the Holy Spirit

_that he may be convinced of sin_.

Man universally is a sinner, and yet he needs in every single instance to

be made aware of it. "There is none good, no, not one;" and yet out of

the millions of the race how very few _feel_ this truth! Not only does

man sin, but he adds to his guilt by remaining ignorant of it. The

criminal in this instance also, as in our courts of law, feels and

confesses his crime no faster than it is proved to him. Through what

blindness of mind, and hardness of heart, and insensibility of

conscience, is the Holy Spirit obliged to force His way, before there is

a sincere acknowledgment of sin before God! The careful investigations,

the persevering questionings and cross-questionings, by which, before a

human tribunal, the wilful and unrepenting criminal is forced to see and

acknowledge his wickedness, are but faint emblems of that thorough work

that must be wrought by the Holy Ghost, before the human soul, at a

higher tribunal, forsaking its refuges of lies, and desisting from its

subterfuges and palliations, smites upon the breast, and cries, "God be

merciful to me a sinner!" Think how much of our sin has occurred in total

apathy, and indifference, and how unwilling we are to have any distinct

consciousness upon this subject. It is only now and then that we feel

ourselves to be sinners; but it is by no means only now and then that we

are sinners. We sin habitually; we are conscious of sin rarely. Our

affections and inclinations and motives are evil, and only evil,

continually; but our experimental _knowledge_ that they are so comes not

often into our mind, and what is worse stays not long, because we dislike

it.

The conviction of sin, with what it includes and leads to, is of more

worth to man than all other convictions. Conviction of any sort,--a

living practical consciousness of any kind,--is of great value, because

it is only this species of knowledge that moves mankind. Convince a man,

that is, give him a consciousness, of the truth of a principle in

politics, in trade, or in religion, and you actuate him politically,

commercially, or religiously. Convince a criminal of his crime, that is,

endue him with a conscious feeling of his criminality, and you make him

burn with electric fire. A convicted man is a man thoroughly conscious;

and a thoroughly conscious man is a deeply moved one. And this is true,

with emphasis, of the conviction of sin. This consciousness produces a

deeper and more lasting effect than all others. Convince a community of

the justice or injustice of a certain class of political principles, and

you stir it very deeply, and broadly, as the history of all democracies

clearly shows; but let society be once convinced of sin before the holy

and righteous God, and deep calleth unto deep, all the waters are moved.

Never is a mass of human beings so centrally stirred, as when the Spirit

of God is poured out upon it, and from no movement in human society do

such lasting and blessed consequences flow, as from a genuine revival of

religion.

But here again, as in reference to the eternal state, there is no

realizing sense. Conviction of sin is not a characteristic of mankind at

large. Men generally will acknowledge in words that they are sinners, but

they wait for some far-distant day to come, when they shall be pricked in

the heart, and feel the truth of what they say. Men generally are not

conscious of the dreadful reality of sin, any more than they are of the

solemn reality of eternity. A deep insensibility, in this respect also,

precludes a practical knowledge of that guilt in the soul, which, if

unpardoned and unremoved, will just as surely ruin it as God lives and

the soul is immortal. Since, then, if man be left to his own inclination,

he never will be convinced of sin, it is plain that some Agent who has

the power must overcome his aversion to self-knowledge, and bring him to

consciousness upon this unwelcome subject. If any one of us, for the

remainder of our days, should be given over to that ordinary indifference

towards sin with which we walk these streets, and transact business, and

enjoy life; if God's truth should never again in this world stab the

conscience, and God's Spirit should never again make us anxious; is it

not infallibly certain that the future would be as the past, and that we

should go through this "accepted time and day of salvation" unconvicted

and therefore unconverted?

But besides this destitution of the experimental sense of sin, another

ground of the need of Divine agency is found in the _blindness_ of the

natural mind. Man's vision of spiritual things, even when they are set

before his eyes, is dim and inadequate. The Christian ministry is greatly

hindered, because it cannot illuminate the human understanding, and

impart the power of a keen spiritual insight. It is compelled to present

the objects of sight, but it cannot give the eye to see them. Vision

depends altogether upon the condition of the organ. The eye sees only

what it brings the means of seeing. The scaled eye of a worldling, or a

debauchee, or a self-righteous man, cannot see that sin of the heart,

that "spiritual wickedness," at which men like Paul and Isaiah stood

aghast. These were men whose character compared with that of the

worldling was saintly; men whose shoes' latchets the worldling is not

worthy to stoop down and unloose. And yet they saw a depravity within

their own hearts which he does not see in his; a depravity which he

cannot see, and which he steadily denies to exist, until he is

enlightened by the Holy Ghost.

But the preacher has no power to impart this clear spiritual discernment.

He cannot arm the eye of the natural man with that magnifying and

microscopic power, by which hatred shall be seen to be murder, and lust,

adultery, and the least swelling of pride, the sin of Lucifer. He is

compelled, by the testimony of the Bible, of the wise and the holy of all

time, and of his own consciousness, to tell every unregenerate man that

he is no better than his race; that he certainly is no better than the

Christian Church which continually confesses and mourns over indwelling

sin. The faithful preacher of the word is obliged to insist that there is

no radical difference among men, and that the depravity of the man of

irreproachable morals but unrenewed heart is as total as was that of the

great preacher to the Gentiles,--a man of perfectly irreproachable

morals, but who confessed that he was the chief of sinners, and feared

lest he should be a cast-away. But the preacher of this unwelcome message

has no power to open the blind eye. He cannot endow the self-ignorant and

incredulous man before him, with that consciousness of the "plague of the

heart" which says "yea" to the most vivid description of human

sinfulness, and "amen" to God's heaviest malediction upon it. The

preacher's position would be far easier, if there might be a transfer of

experience; if some of that bitter painful sense of sin with which the

struggling Christian is burdened might flow over into the easy, unvexed,

and thoughtless souls of the men of this world. Would that the

consciousness upon this subject of sin, of a Paul or a Luther, might

deluge that large multitude of men who doubt or deny the doctrine of

human depravity. The materials for that consciousness, the items that go

to make up that experience, exist as really and as plentifully in your

moral state and character, as they do in that of the mourning and

self-reproaching Christian who sits by your side,--your devout father, your

saintly mother, or sister,--whom you know, and who you know is a better

being than you are. Why should they be weary and heavy-laden with a sense

of their unworthiness before God, and you go through life indifferent and

light-hearted? Are they deluded in respect to the doctrine of human

depravity, and are you in the right? Think you that the deathbed and the

day of judgment will prove this to be the fact? No! if you shall ever

know anything of the Christian struggle with innate corruption; if you

shall ever, in the expressive phrase of Scripture, have your senses

exercised as in a gymnasium [1] to discern good and evil, and see

yourself with self-abhorrence; your views will harmonize most profoundly

and exactly with theirs. And, furthermore, you will not in the process

create any _new_ sinfulness. You will merely see the _existing_ depravity

of the human heart. You will simply see what _is_,--is now, in your

heart, and in all human hearts, and has been from the beginning.

But all this is the work of a more powerful and spiritual agency than

that of man. The truth may be exhibited with perfect transparency and

plainness, the hearer himself may do his utmost to have it penetrate and

tell; and yet, there be no vivid and vital consciousness of sin. How

often does the serious and alarmed man say to us: "I know it, but I do

not _feel_ it." How long and wearily, sometimes, does the anxious man

struggle after an inward sense of these spiritual things, without

success, until he learns that an inward sense, an experimental

consciousness, respecting religious truth, is as purely a gift and

product of God the Spirit as the breath of life in his nostrils.

Considering, then, the natural apathy of man respecting the sin that is

in his own heart, and the exceeding blindness of his mental vision, even

when his attention has been directed to it, is it not perfectly plain

that there must be the exertion of a Divine agency, in order that he may

pass through even the first and lowest stages of the religious

experience?

In view of the subject, as thus far unfolded, we remark:

1. First, that it is the duty of every one, _to take the facts in respect

to man's character as he finds them_. Nothing is gained, in any province

of human thought or action, by disputing actual verities. They are

stubborn things, and will not yield to the wishes and prejudices of the

natural heart. This is especially true in regard to the facts in man's

moral and religious condition. The testimony of Revelation is explicit,

that "the carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the

law of God, neither indeed can be;" and also, that "the natural man

receiveth not the things of the Spirit, neither can he know them, because

they are spiritually discerned." According to this Biblical statement,

there is corruption and blindness together. The human heart is at once

sinful, and ignorant that it is so. It is, therefore, the very worst form

of evil; a fatal disease unknown to the patient, and accompanied with the

belief that there is perfect health; sin and guilt without any just and

proper sense of it. This is the testimony, and the assertion, of that

Being who needs not that any should testify to Him of man, for he knows

what is in man. And this is the testimony, also, of every mind that has

attained a profound self-knowledge. For it is indisputable, that in

proportion as a man is introspective, and accustoms himself to the

scrutiny of his motives and feelings, he discovers that "the whole head

is sick, and the whole heart is faint."

It is, therefore, the duty and wisdom of every one to set to his seal

that God is true,--to have this as his motto. Though, as yet, he is

destitute of a clear conviction of sin, and a godly sorrow for it, still

he should _presume_ the fact of human depravity. Good men in every age

have found it to be a fact, and the infallible Word of God declares that

it is a fact. What, then, is gained, by proposing another than the

Biblical theory of human nature? Is the evil removed by denying its

existence? Will the mere calling men good at heart, and by nature, make

them such?

"Who can hold a fire in his hand,

By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?

Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

By bare imagination of a feast?

Or wallow naked in December snow,

By thinking on fantastic summer heat?"[2]

2. In the second place, we remark that it is the duty of every one, _not

to be discouraged by these facts and truths relative to the moral

condition of man._ For, one fact conducts to the next one. One truth

prepares for a second. If it is a solemn and sad fact that men are

sinners, and blind and dead in their trespasses and sin, it is also a

cheering fact that the Holy Spirit can enlighten the darkest

understanding, and enliven the most torpid and indifferent soul; and it

is a still further, and most encouraging truth and fact, that the Holy

Spirit is given to those who ask for it, with more readiness than a

father gives bread to his hungry child. Here, then, we have the fact of

sin, and of blindness and apathy in sin; the fact of a mighty power in

God to convince of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment; and the

blessed fact that this power is accessible to prayer. Let us put these

three facts together, all of them, and act accordingly. Then we shall be

taught by the Spirit, and shall come to a salutary consciousness of sin;

and then shall be verified in our own experience the words of God: "I

dwell in the high and holy place, and with him also that is of a contrite

and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the

heart of the contrite ones."

[Footnote 1: [Greek: Ta aisthaeria gegurasmena.] Heb. v. 14.]

[Footnote 2: SHAKSPEARE: Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.]

THE NECESSITY OF DIVINE INFLUENCES. [*continued]

Luke xi. 13.--"If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto

your children; how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy

Spirit to them that ask him."

Sermons to the Natural Man · 第 8 / 25 段