the argument for the necessity of Divine influences had reference to the
more general aspects of man's character and condition. We were concerned
with the origin of seriousness in view of a future life, and the
production of a sense of moral corruption and unfitness to enter
eternity. We have now to consider the work of the Spirit, in its
relations, first, to that more distinct sense of sin which is denominated
the consciousness of _guilt_, and secondly, to that saving act of
_faith_ by which the atonement of Christ is appropriated by the soul.
I. Sin is not man's misfortune, but his fault; and any view that falls
short of this fact is radically defective. Sin not only brings a
corruption and bondage, but also a condemnation and penalty, upon the
self-will that originates it. Sin not only renders man unfit for rewards,
font also deserving of punishment. As one who has disobeyed law of his
own determination, he is liable not merely to the negative loss of
blessings, but also to the positive infliction of retribution. It is not
enough that a transgressor be merely let alone; he must be taken in hand
and punished. He is not simply a diseased man; he is a criminal. His sin,
therefore, requires not a removal merely, but also an _expiation_.
This relation and reference of transgression to law and justice is a
fundamental one; and yet it is very liable to be overlooked, or at least
to be inadequately apprehended. The sense of _ill-desert_ is too apt to
be confused and shallow, in the human soul. Man is comparatively ready to
acknowledge the misery of sin, while he is slow to confess the guilt of
it. When the word of God asserts he is poor, and blind, and wretched, he
is comparatively forward to assent; but when, in addition, it asserts
that he deserves to be punished everlastingly, he reluctates. Mankind are
willing to acknowledge their wretchedness, and be pitied; but they are
not willing to acknowledge their guiltiness, and stand condemned before
law.
And yet, guilt is the very essence of sin. Extinguish the criminality,
and you extinguish the inmost core and heart of moral evil. We may have
felt that sin is bondage, that it is inward dissension and disharmony,
that it takes away the true dignity of our nature, but if we have not
also felt that it is _iniquity_ and merits penalty, we have not become
conscious of its most essential quality. It is not enough that we come
before God, saying: "I am wretched in my soul; I am weary of my bondage;
I long for deliverance." We must also say, as we look up into that holy
Eye: "I am guilty; O my God I deserve thy judgments." In brief, the human
mind must recognize all the Divine attributes. The entire Divine
character, in both its justice and its love, must rise full-orbed before
the soul, when thus seeking salvation. It is not enough, that we ask God
to free us from disquietude, and give us repose. Before we do this, and
that we may do it successfully, we must employ the language of David,
while under the stings of guilt: "O Lord rebuke me not in thy wrath:
neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. Be merciful unto me, O God be
merciful unto me."
What is needed is, more consideration of sin in its objective, and less
in its subjective relations; more sense of it in its reference to the
being and attributes of God, and less sense of it in its reference to our
own happiness or misery, or even to the harmony of our own powers and
faculties. The adorable being and attributes of God are of more
importance than any human soul, immortal though it be; and what is
required in the religious experience is, more anxiety lest the Divine
glory should be tarnished, and less fear that a worm of the dust be made
miserable by his transgressions. And whatever may be our theory of the
matter, "to this complexion must we come at last," even in order to our
own peace of mind. We must lose our life, in order to find it. Even in
order to our own inward repose of conscience and of heart, there must
come a point and period in our mental history, when we do actually sink
self out of sight, and think of sin in its relation to the character and
government of the great and holy God,--when we do see it to be _guilt_,
as well as corruption.
For guilt is a distinct, and a distinguishable quality. It is a thing by
itself, like the Platonic idea of Beauty.[1] It is sin stripped of its
accompaniments,--the restlessness, the dissatisfaction, and the
unhappiness which it produces,--and perceived in its pure odiousness and
ill-desert. And when thus seen, it does not permit the mind to think of
any thing but the righteous law, and the Divine character. In the hour of
thorough conviction, the sinful spirit is lost in the feeling of
guiltiness: wholly engrossed in the reflection that it has incurred the
condemnation of the Best Being in the universe. It is in distress, not
because an Almighty Being can make it miserable but, because a Holy and
Good Being has _reason_ to be displeased with it. When it gives utterance
to its emotion, it says to its Sovereign and its Judge: "I am in anguish,
more because Thou the Holy and the Good art unreconciled with me, than
because Thou the Omnipotent canst punish me forever. I refuse not to The
punished; I deserve the inflictions of Thy justice; only _forgive_, and
Thou mayest do what Thou wilt unto me." A soul that is truly penitent has
no desire to escape penalty, at the expense of principle and law. It says
with David: "Thou desirest not sacrifice;" such atonement as I can make
is inadequate; "else would I give it." It expresses its approbation of
the pure justice of God, in the language of the gentlest and sweetest of
Mystics:
"Thou hast no lightnings, O Thou Just!
Or I their force should know;
And if Thou strike me into dust,
My soul approves the blow.
The heart that values less its ease,
Than it adores Thy ways;
In Thine avenging anger, sees
A subject of its praise.
Pleased I could lie, concealed and lost,
In shades of central night;
Not to avoid Thy wrath, Thou know'st,
But lest I grieve Thy sight.
Smite me, O Thou whom I provoke!
And I will love Thee still;
The well deserved and righteous stroke
Shall please me, though it kill."[2]
Now, it is only when the human spirit is under the illuminating, and
discriminating influences of the Holy Ghost, that it possesses this pure
and genuine sense of guilt. Worldly losses, trials, warnings by God's
providence, may rouse the sinner, and make him solemn; but unless the
Spirit of Grace enters his heart he does not feel that he is
ill-deserving. He is sad and fearful, respecting the future life, and
perhaps supposes that this state of mind is one of true conviction, and
wonders that it does not end in conversion, and the joy of pardon. But if
he would examine it, he would discover that it is full of the lust of self.
He would find that he is merely unhappy, and restless, and afraid
to die. If he should examine the workings of his heart, he would discover
that they are only another form of self-love; that instead of being
anxious about self in the present world, he has become anxious about self
in the future world; that instead of looking out for his happiness here,
he has begun to look out for it hereafter; that in fact he has merely
transferred sin, from time and its relations, to eternity and its
relations. Such sorrow as this needs to be sorrowed for, and such
repentance as this needs to be repented of. Such conviction as this needs
to be laid open, and have its defect shown. After a course of wrongdoing,
it is not sufficient for man to come before the Holy One, making mention
of his wretchedness, and desire for happiness, but making no mention of
his culpability, and desert of righteous and holy judgments. It is not
enough for the criminal to plead for life, however earnestly, while he
avoids the acknowledgment that death is his just due. For silence in such
a connection as this, is _denial_. The impenitent thief upon the cross
was clamorous for life and happiness, saying, "If thou be the Christ,
save thyself and us." He said nothing concerning the crime that had
brought him to a malefactor's death, and thereby showed that it did not
weigh heavy upon his conscience. But the real penitent rebuked him,
saying: "Dost thou not fear God, seeing thou art in the same
condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our
deeds." And then followed that meek and broken-hearted supplication:
"Lord remember me," which drew forth the world-renowned answer: "This day
shalt thou be with me in paradise."
In the fact, then, that man's experience of sin is so liable to be
defective upon the side of guilt, we find another necessity for the
teaching of the Holy Spirit; for a spiritual agency that cannot be
deceived, which pierces to the dividing asunder of the soul and spirit,
and is a discerner of the real intent and feeling of the heart.
II. In the second place, man needs the influences of the Holy Spirit, in
order that _he may actually appropriate Christ's atonement for sin_.
The feeling of ill-desert, of which we have spoken, requires an
expiation, in order to its extinction, precisely as the burning sensation
of thirst needs the cup of cold water, in order that it may be allayed,
the sense of guilt is awakened in its pure and genuine form, by the Holy
Spirit's operation, the soul _craves_ the atonement,--it _wants_ the
dying Lamb of God. We often speak of a believer's longings after purity,
after peace, after joy. There is an appetency for them. In like manner,
there is in the illuminated and guilt-smitten conscience an appetency for
the piacular work of Christ, as that which alone can give it
pacification. Contemplated from this point of view, there is not a more
rational doctrine within the whole Christian system, than that of the
Atonement. Anything that ministers to a distinct and legitimate craving
in man is reasonable, and necessary. That theorist, therefore, who would
evince the unreasonableness of the atoning work of the Redeemer, must
first evince the unreasonableness of the consciousness of guilt, and of
the judicial craving of the conscience. He must show the groundlessness
of that fundamental and organic feeling which imparts such a blood-red
color to all the religions of the globe; be they Pagan, Jewish, or
Christian. Whenever, therefore, this sensation of ill-desert is elicited,
and the soul feels consciously criminal before the Everlasting Judge, the
difficulties that beset the doctrine of the Cross all vanish in the
_craving_, in the _appetency_, of the conscience, for acquittal through
the substituted sufferings of the Son of God. He who has been taught by
the Spirit respecting the iniquity of sin, and views it in its relations
to the Divine holiness, has no wish to be pardoned at the expense of
justice. His conscience is now jealous for the majesty of God, and the
dignity of His government. He now experimentally understands that great
truth which has its foundation in the nature of guilt, and consequently
in the method of Redemption,--the great ethical truth, that after an
accountable agent has stained himself with crime, there is from the
necessity of the case no remission without the satisfaction of law.
But it is one thing to acknowledge this in theory, and even to feel the
need of Christ's atonement, and still another thing to _really
appropriate_ it. Unbelief and despair have great power over a
guilt-stricken mind; and were it not for that Spirit who "takes of the
things of Christ and shows them to the soul," sinful man would in every
instance succumb under their awful paralysis. For, if the truth and Spirit
of God should merely convince the sinner of his guilt, but never apply the
atoning blood of the Redeemer, hell would be in him and he would be in
hell. If God, coming forth as He justly might only in His judicial
character, should confine Himself to a convicting operation in the
conscience,--should make the transgressor feel his guilt, and then leave
him to the feeling and with the feeling, forevermore,--this would be
eternal death. And if, as any man shall lie down upon his death-bed, he
shall find that owing to his past quenching of the Spirit the
illuminating energy of God is searching him, and revealing him to
himself, but does not assist him to look up to the Saviour of sinners;
and if, in the day of judgment, as he draws near the bar of an eternal
doom, he shall discover that the sense of guilt grows deeper and deeper,
while the atoning blood is not applied,--if this shall be the experience
of any one upon his death-bed, and in the day of judgment, will he need
to be told what he is and whither he is going?
Now it is with reference to these disclosures that come in like a deluge
upon him, that man needs the aids and operation of the Holy Spirit.
Ordinarily, nearly the whole of his guilt is latent within him. He is,
commonly, undisturbed by conscience; but it would be a fatal error to
infer that therefore he has a clear and innocent conscience. There is a
vast amount of undeveloped guilt within every impenitent soul. It is
slumbering there, as surely as magnetism is in the magnet, and the
electric fluid is in the piled-up thunder-cloud. For there are moments
when the sinful soul feels this hidden criminality, as there are moments
when the magnet shows its power, and the thunder-cloud darts its nimble
and forked lightnings. Else, why do these pangs and fears shoot and flash
through it, every now and then? Why does the drowning man instinctively
ask for God's mercy? Were his conscience pure and clear from guilt, like
that of the angel or the seraph,--were there no latent crime within
him,--he would sink into the unfathomed depths of the sea, without the
thought of such a cry. When the traveller in South America sees the smoke
and flame of the volcano, here and there, as he passes along, he is
justified in inferring that a vast central fire is burning beneath the
whole region. In like manner, when man discovers, as he watches the
phenomena of his conscience, that guilt every now and then emerges like a
flash of flame into consciousness, filling him with fear and
distress,--when he finds that he has no security against this invasion,
but that in an hour when he thinks not, and commonly when he is weakest
and faintest, in his moments of danger or death, it stings him and wounds
him, he is justified in inferring, and he must infer, that the deep places
of his spirit, the whole _potentiality_ of his soul is full of crime.
Now, in no condition of the soul is there greater need of the agency of
the Comforter (O well named the Comforter), than when all this latency is
suddenly manifested to a man. When this deluge of discovery comes in, all
the billows of doubt, fear, terror, and despair roll over the soul, and
it sinks in the deep waters. The sense of guilt,--that awful guilt, which
the man has carried about with him for many long years, and which he has
trifled with,--now proves too great for him to control. It seizes him
like a strong-armed man. If he could only believe that the blood of the
Lamb of God expiates all this crime which is so appalling to his mind, he
would be at peace instantaneously. But he is unable to believe this. His
sin, which heretofore looked too small to be noticed, now appears too
great to be forgiven. Other men may be pardoned, but not he. He
_despairs_ of mercy; and if he should be left to the natural workings of
his own mind; if he should not be taught and assisted by the Holy Ghost,
in this critical moment, to behold the Lamb of God; he would despair
forever. For this sense of ill-desert, this fearful looking-for of
judgment and fiery indignation, with which he is wrestling, is organic to
the conscience, and the human will has no more power over it than it has
over the sympathetic nerve. Only as he is taught by the Divine Spirit, is
he able with perfect calmness to look up from this brink of despair, and
say: "There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. The
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. Therefore, being justified
by faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. I know
whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which
I have committed unto him against that day."
In view of the truths which we have now considered, it is worthy of
observation:
1. First, that _the Holy Spirit constitutes the tie, and bond of
connection, between man and God_. The third Person in the Godhead is very
often regarded as more distant from the human soul, than either the
Father or the Son. In the history of the doctrine of the Trinity, the
definition of the Holy Spirit, and the discrimination of His relations in
the economy of the Godhead, was not settled until after the doctrine of
the first and second Persons had been established. Something analogous to
this appears in the individual experience. God the Father and God the Son
are more in the thoughts of many believers, than God the Holy Ghost. And
yet, we have seen that in the economy of Redemption, and from the very
nature of the case, the soul is brought as close to the Spirit, as to the
Father and Son. Nay, it is only through the inward operations of the
former, that the latter are made real to the heart and mind of man. Not
until the third Person enlightens, are the second and first Persons
beheld. "No man," says St. Paul, "can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by
the Holy Ghost."
The sinful soul is entirely dependent upon the Divine Spirit, and from
first to last it is in most intimate communication with Him during the
process of salvation. It is enlightened by His influence; it is enlivened
by Him; it is empowered by Him to the act of faith in Christ's Person and
Work; it is supported and assisted by Him, in every step of the Christian
race; it is comforted by Him in all trials and tribulations; and, lastly,
it is perfected in holiness, and fitted for the immediate presence of
God, by Him. Certainly, then, the believer should have as full faith in
the distinct personality, and immediate efficiency, of the third Person,
as he has in that of the first and second. His most affectionate feeling
should centre upon that Blessed Agent, through whom he appropriates the
blessings that have been provided for sinners by the Father and Son, and
without whose influence the Father would have planned the Redemptive
scheme, and the Son have executed it, in vain.
2. In the second place, it is deserving of very careful notice that _the
influences of the Holy Spirit may be obtained by asking for them_. This
is the only condition to be complied with. And this gift, furthermore, is
peculiar, in that it is _invariably_ bestowed whenever it is sincerely
implored. There are other gifts of God which may be asked for with deep
and agonizing desire, and it is not certain that they will be granted.
This is the case with temporal blessings. A sick man may turn his face to
the wall, with Hezekiah, and pray in the bitterness of his soul, for the
prolongation of his life, and yet not obtain the answer which Hezekiah
received. But no man ever supplicated in the earnestness of his soul for
the influences of the Holy Spirit, and was ultimately refused. For this
is a gift which it is always safe to grant. It involves a spiritual and
everlasting good. It is the gift of righteousness, of the fear and love
of God in the heart. There is no danger in such a bestowment. It
inevitably promotes the glory of God. Hence our Lord, after bidding his
hearers to "ask," to "seek," and to "knock," adds, as the encouraging
reason why they should do so: "For, _every one_ that asketh receiveth;
and he that seeketh, [always] findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall
[certainly] be opened." This is a reason that cannot be assigned in the
instance of other prayers. Our Lord commands his disciples to pray for
their daily bread; and we know that the children of God do generally find
their wants supplied. Still, it would not be true that _every one_ who in
the sincerity of his soul has asked for daily bread has received it. The
children of God have sometimes died of hunger. But no soul that has ever
hungered for the bread of heaven, and supplicated for it, has been sent
empty away. Nay more: Whoever finds it in his heart to ask for the Holy
Spirit may know, from this very fact, that the Holy Spirit has
anticipated him, and has prompted the very prayer itself. And think you
that God will not grant a request which He himself has inspired? And
therefore, again, it is, that _every one_ who asks invariably receives.
3. The third remark suggested by the subject we have been considering is,
that _it is exceedingly hazardous to resist Divine influences_. "Quench
not the Spirit" is one of the most imperative of the Apostolic
injunctions. Our Lord, after saying that a word spoken against Himself is
pardonable, adds that he that blasphemes against the Holy Ghost shall
never be forgiven, neither in this world nor in the world to come. The
New Testament surrounds the subject of Divine influences with very great
solemnity. It represents the resisting of the Holy Ghost to be as
heinous, and dangerous, as the trampling upon Christ's blood.
There is a reason for this. We have seen that in this operation upon the
mind and heart, God comes as near, and as close to man, as it is possible
for Him to come. Now to grieve or oppose such a merciful, and such an
_inward_ agency as this, is to offer the highest possible affront to the
majesty and the mercy of God. It is a great sin to slight the gifts of
Divine providence,--to misuse health, strength, wealth, talents. It is a
deep sin to contemn the truths of Divine Revelation, by which the soul is
made wise unto eternal life. It is a fearful sin to despise the claims of
God the Father, and God the Son. But it is a transcendent sin to resist
and beat back, _after it has been given_, that mysterious, that holy,
that immediately Divine influence, by which alone the heart of stone can
be made the heart of flesh. For, it indicates something more than the
ordinary carelessness of a sinner. It evinces a determined _obstinacy_ in
sin,--nay, a Satanic opposition to God and goodness. It is of such a
guilt as this, that the apostle John remarks: "There is a sin unto death;
I do not say that one should pray for it."[3]
Again, it is exceedingly hazardous to resist Divine influences, because
they depend wholly upon the good pleasure of God, and not at all upon any
established and uniform law. We must not, for a moment, suppose that the
operations of the Holy Spirit upon the human soul are like those of the
forces of nature upon the molecules of matter. They are not uniform and
unintermittent, like gravitation, and chemical affinity. We may avail
ourselves of the powers of nature at any moment, because they are
steadily operative by an established law. They are laboring incessantly,
and we may enter into their labors at any instant we please. But it is
not so with supernatural and gracious influences. God's awakening and
renewing power does not operate with the uniformity of those blind
natural laws which He has impressed upon the dull clod beneath our feet.
God is not one of the forces of nature. He is a Person and a Sovereign.
His special and highest action upon the human soul is not uniform. His
Spirit, He expressly teaches us, does not always strive with man. It is a
wind that bloweth when and where it listeth. For this reason, it is
dangerous to the religious interests of the soul, in the highest degree,
to go counter to any impulses of the Spirit, however slight, or to
neglect any of His admonitions, however gentle. If God in mercy has once
come in upon a thoughtless mind, and wakened it to eternal realities; if
He has enlightened it to perceive the things that make for its peace; and
that mind slights this merciful interference, and stifles down these
inward teachings, then God withdraws, and whether He will ever return
again to that soul depends upon His mere sovereign volition. He has bound
himself by no promise to do so. He has established no uniform law of
operation, in the case. It is true that He is very pitiful and of tender
mercy, and waits and bears long with the sinner; and it is also true,
that He is terribly severe and just, when He thinks it proper to be so,
and says to those who have despised His Spirit: "Because I have called
and ye refused, and have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded, I
will laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh."