necessities. It magnifies the estimate of our wants; it diminishes the
wants of others. It persuades us that we have need of all, that others
have need of nothing. Felix began to perceive the iniquity of this
passion, and to feel that he was guilty of double idolatry: idolatry,
in morality, idolatry in religion; idolatry in having offered incense
to gods, who were not the makers of heaven and earth; idolatry in
having offered incense to Mammon. For the Scriptures teach, and
experience confirms, that "covetousness is idolatry." The covetous man
is not a worshiper of the true God. Gold and silver are the divinities
he adores. His heart is with his treasure. Here then is the portrait
of Felix: a portrait drawn by St. Paul in the presence of Felix, and
which reminded this prince of innumerable prohibitions, innumerable
frauds, innumerable extortions; of the widow and the orphan he
opprest. Here is the cause of Felix's fears. According to an
expression of St. James, the "rust of his gold and silver began to
witness against him, and to eat his flesh as with fire" (James v., 3).
Fourthly, consider Felix as a voluptuous man. Here is the final cause
of his fear. Without repeating all we have said on the depravity of
this passion, let one remark suffice, that, if the torments of hell
are terrible at all, they must especially be so to the voluptuous. The
voluptuous man never restricts his sensual gratification; his soul
dies on the slightest approach of pain. What a terrific impression
must not the thought of judgment make on such a character. Shall I,
accustomed to indulgence and pleasure, become a prey to the worm that
dieth not and fuel to the fire which is not quenched? Shall I, who
avoid pain with so much caution, be condemned to eternal torments?
Shall I have neither delicious meats nor voluptuous delights? This
body, my idol, which I habituate to so much delicacy, shall it be
"cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, whose smoke ascendeth up
forever and ever?" And this effeminate habit I have of refining on
pleasure, will it render me only the more sensible of my destruction
and anguish?
Such are the traits of Felix's character; such are the causes of
Felix's fear. Happy, if his fear had produced that "godly sorrow, and
that repentance unto salvation not to be repented of." Happy if the
fear of hell had induced him to avoid its torments. But, ah no! he
feared, and yet persisted in the causes of his fear. He trembled,
yet said to St. Paul, "Go thy way for this time." This is our last
reflection.
How preposterous, my brethren, is the sinner! What absurdities does
he cherish in his heart! For, in short, had the doctrines St. Paul
preached to Felix been the productions of his brain:--had the thought
of a future judgment been a chimera, whence proceeded the fears of
Felix? Why was he so weak as to admit this panic of terror? If, on the
contrary, Paul had truth and argument on his side, why did Felix send
him away? Such are the contradictions of the sinner. He wishes; he
revolts; he denies; he grants; he trembles; and says, "Go thy way for
this time." Speak to him concerning the truths of religion, open hell
to his view, and you will see him affected, devout, and appalled:
follow him in life, and you will find that these truths have no
influence whatever on his conduct.
But are we not mistaken concerning Felix? Did not the speech of St.
Paul make a deeper impression upon him than we seem to allow? He sent
the apostle away, it is true, but it was "for this time" only. And
who can censure this delay? The infirmities of human nature require
relaxation and repose. Felix could afterward recall him. "Go thy way
for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will send for thee."
It pains me, I confess, my brethren, in entering on this head of my
discourse, that I should exhibit to you in the person of Felix the
portrait of whom? Of wicked men? Alas! of nearly the whole of this
assembly; most of whom seem to us living in negligence and vice,
running with the children of this world "to the same excess of riot."
One would suppose that they had already made their choice, having
embraced one or the other of these notions: either that religion is
a fantom, or that, all things considered, it is better to endure the
torments of hell than to be restricted to the practise of virtue. Oh
no! that is not their notion. Ask the worse among them. Ask whether
they have renounced their salvation. You will not find an individual
who will say that he has renounced it. Ask them again whether they
think it attainable by following this way of life. They will answer,
No. Ask them afterward how they reconcile things so opposite as their
life and their hopes. They will answer that they are resolved to
reform, and by and by they will enter on the work. They will say,
as Felix said to St. Paul, "Go thy way for this time; when I have a
convenient season, I will call for thee." Nothing is less wise than
this delay. At a future period I will reform. But who has assured me
that at a future period I shall have opportunities of conversion? Who
has assured me that God will continue to call me, and that another
Paul shall thunder in my ears?
I will reform at a future period. But who has told me that God at a
future period will accompany His word with the powerful aids of grace?
While Paul may plant and Apollos may water, is it not God who gives
the increase? How then can I flatter myself that the Holy Spirit
will continue to knock at the door of my heart after I shall have so
frequently obstructed His admission?
I will reform in future. But who has told me that I shall ever desire
to be converted? Do not habits become confirmed in proportion as they
are indulged? And is not an inveterate evil very difficult to cure? If
I can not bear the excision of a slight gangrene, how shall I sustain
the operation when the wound is deep?
I will reform in future! But who has told me that I shall live to
a future period? Does not death advance every moment with gigantic
strides? Does he not assail the prince in his palace and the peasant
in his cottage? Does he not send before him monitors and messengers:
acute pains, which wholly absorb the soul; deliriums, which render
reason of no avail; deadly stupors, which benumb the brightest and
most piercing geniuses? And what is still more awful, does He not
daily come without either warning or messenger? Does He not snatch
away this man without allowing him time to be acquainted with the
essentials of religion; and that man, without the restitution of
riches ill acquired; and the other, before he is reconciled to his
enemy?
Instead of saying "Go thy way for this time" we should say, Stay for
this time. Stay, while the Holy Spirit is knocking at the door of my
heart; stay, while my conscience is alarmed; stay, while I yet live;
"while it is called to-day." The arguments confounded my conscience:
no matter. "Thy hand is heavy upon me": no matter still. Cut, strike,
consume; provided it procure my salvation.
But, however criminal this delay may be, we seem desirous to excuse
it. "Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will
call for thee." It was Felix's business then which induced him to
put off the apostle. Unhappy business! Awful occupation! It seems
an enviable situation, my brethren, to be placed at the head of a
province; to speak in the language of majesty; to decide on the
fortunes of a numerous people; and in all cases to be the ultimate
judge. But those situations, so happy and so dazzling in appearance,
are in the main dangerous to the conscience. Those innumerable
concerns, this noise and bustle, entirely dissipate the soul. While so
much engaged on earth, we can not be mindful of heaven. When we have
no leisure we say to St. Paul, "Go thy way for this time; when I have
a convenient season, I will call for thee."
Happy he who, amid the tumult of the most active life, has hours
consecrated to reflection, to the examination of his conscience, and
to insure the "one thing needful." Or, rather, happy he who, in the
repose of the middle classes of society,--places between indigence and
affluence, far from the courts of the great, having neither poverty
nor riches according to Agur's wish,--can in retirement and quietness
see life sweetly glide away, and make salvation, if not the sole, yet
his principal, concern.
Felix not only preferred his business to his salvation, but he
mentions it with evasive disdain. "When I have a convenient season, I
will call for thee." "When I have a convenient season!" Might we not
thence infer that the truths discust by St. Paul were not of serious
importance? Might we not infer that the soul of Felix was created
for the government of Judea; and that the grand doctrines of
righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come ought to serve
at most but to pass away the time, or merely to engross one's
leisure--"when I have a convenient season?" ...
Yes, Christians, this is the only moment on which we can reckon. It
is, perhaps, the only acceptable time. It is, perhaps, the last day of
our visitation. Let us improve a period so precious. Let us no
longer say by and by--at another time; but let us say to-day--this
moment--even now. Let the pastor say: I have been insipid in my
sermons, and remiss in my conduct; having been more solicitous, during
the exercise of my ministry, to advance my family than to build up the
Lord's house, I will preach hereafter with fervor and zeal. I will be
vigilant, sober, rigorous, and disinterested. Let the miser say: I
have riches ill acquired. I will purge my house of illicit wealth. I
will overturn the altar of Mammon and erect another to the supreme
Jehovah. Let the prodigal say: I will extinguish the unhappy fires by
which I am consumed and kindle in my bosom the flame of divine love.
Ah, unhappy passions, which war against my soul; sordid attachments;
irregular propensities; emotions of concupiscence; law in the
members,--I will know you no more. I will make with you an eternal
divorce, I will from this moment open my heart to the eternal Wisdom,
who condescends to ask it.
If we are in this happy disposition, if we thus become regenerate, we
shall enjoy from this moment foretastes of the glory which God has
prepared. From this moment the truths of religion, so far from casting
discouragement and terror on the soul, shall heighten its consolation
and joy; from this moment heaven shall open to this audience, paradise
shall descend into your hearts, and the Holy Spirit shall come and
dwell there. He will bring that peace, and those joys, which pass all
understanding.
EDWARDS
SPIRITUAL LIGHT
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
Jonathan Edwards, the New England divine and metaphysician, was born
at East Windsor, Connecticut, in 1703. He was graduated early from
Yale College, where he had given much attention to philosophy, became
tutor of his college, and at nineteen began to preach. His voice and
manner did not lend themselves readily to pulpit oratory, but his
clear, logical, and intense presentation of the truth produced a
profound and permanent effect upon his hearers. He wrote what were
considered the most important philosophical treatises of his time. His
place among the thinkers of the world is high and indisputable. He had
many gifts of intellect and imagination, and a uniform gravity that
left no doubt as to his deeply earnest nature. He was one of the
greatest preachers of his age. His most widely quoted sermon, "Sinners
in the Eyes of an Angry God," while powerful and impressive, does not
do him justice. It is believed the sermon presented here discloses to
greater advantage the tender and saintly side of his character. He
died in 1758.
EDWARDS
1703-1758
SPIRITUAL LIGHT
_And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon
Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my
Father which is in heaven._--Matthew xvi., 17.
Christ says these words to Peter upon occasion of his professing
his faith in Him as the Son of God. Our Lord was inquiring of His
disciples, who men said He was; not that He needed to be informed, but
only to introduce and give occasion to what follows. They answer,
that some said He was John the Baptist, and some Elias, and others
Jeremias, or one of the prophets. When they had thus given an account
of who others said He was, Christ asks them, who they said He was?
Simon Peter, whom we find always zealous and forward, was the first to
answer: he readily replied to the question, Thou art Christ, the Son
of the living God.
Upon this occasion Christ says as He does to him, and of him in the
text: in which we may observe,
1. That Peter is pronounced blest on this account. "Blessed art
Thou."--"Thou art a happy man, that thou art not ignorant of this,
that I am Christ, the Son of the living God. Thou art distinguishingly
happy. Others are blinded, and have dark and deluded apprehensions, as
you have now given an account, some thinking that I am Elias, and some
that I am Jeremias, and some one thing and some another; but none of
them thinking right, all of them misled. Happy art thou, that art so
distinguished as to know the truth in this matter."
2. The evidence of this his happiness declared; viz., that God, and He
only, had revealed it to him. This is an evidence of his being blest.
First. As it shows how peculiarly favored he was of God above others:
"How highly favored art thou, that others that are wise and great men,
the scribes, Pharisees, and rulers, and the nation in general, are
left in darkness, to follow their own misguided apprehensions; and
that thou shouldst be singled out, as it were, by name, that my
heavenly Father should thus set His love on thee, Simon Barjona. This
argues thee blest, that thou shouldst thus be the object of God's
distinguishing love."
Secondly. It evidences his blessedness also, as it intimates that this
knowledge is above any that flesh and blood can reveal. "This is such
knowledge as my Father which is in heaven only can give: it is too
high and excellent to be communicated by such means as other knowledge
is. Thou art blest, that thou knowest that which God alone can teach
thee."
The original of this knowledge is here declared, both negatively and
positively. Positively, as God is here declared the author of it.
Negatively, as it is declared, that flesh and blood had not revealed
it. God is the author of all knowledge and understanding whatsoever.
He is the author of the knowledge that is obtained by human learning:
He is the author of all moral prudence, and of the knowledge and skill
that men have in their secular business. Thus it is said of all in
Israel that were wise-hearted, and skilful in embroidering, that God
had filled them with the spirit of wisdom. (Exod. xxviii., 3.)
God is the author of such knowledge; but yet not so but that flesh and
blood reveals it. Mortal men are capable of imparting that knowledge
of human arts and sciences, and skill in temporal affairs. God is the
author of such knowledge by those means: flesh and blood is made use
of by God as the mediate or second cause of it; he conveys it by the
power and influence of natural means. But this spiritual knowledge,
spoken of in the text, is that God is the author of, and none else:
he reveals it, and flesh and blood reveals it not. He imparts this
knowledge immediately, not making use of any intermediate natural
causes, as he does in other knowledge. What has passed in the
preceding discourse naturally occasioned Christ to observe this;
because the disciples had been telling how others did not know Him,
but were generally mistaken about Him, and divided and confounded in
their opinions of Him: but Peter had declared his assured faith, that
He was the Son of God. Now it was natural to observe, how it was not
flesh and blood that had revealed it to him, but God: for if this
knowledge were dependent on natural causes or means, how came it to
pass that they, a company of poor fishermen, illiterate men, and
persons of low education, attained to the knowledge of the truth;
while the scribes and Pharisees, men of vastly higher advantages
and greater knowledge and sagacity in other matters, remained in
ignorance? This could be owing only to the gracious distinguishing
influence and revelation of the Spirit of God. Hence, what I would
make the subject of my present discourse from these words, is this
doctrine. That there is such a thing as a spiritual and divine light,
immediately imparted to the soul by God, of a different nature from
any that is obtained by natural means.
1. Those convictions that natural men may have of their sin and misery
is not this spiritual and divine light. Men in a natural condition may
have convictions of the guilt that lies upon them, and of the anger of
God, and their danger of divine vengeance. Such convictions are from
light or sensibleness of truth. That some sinners have a greater
conviction of their guilt and misery than others, is because some have
more light, or more of an apprehension of truth than others. And
this light and conviction may be from the Spirit of God; the Spirit
convinces men of sin: but yet nature is much more concerned in it than
in the communication of that spiritual and divine light that is spoken
of in the doctrine; it is from the Spirit of God only as assisting
natural principles, and not as infusing any new principles. Common
grace differs from special, in that it influences only by assisting
of nature; and not by imparting grace, or bestowing anything above
nature. The light that is obtained is wholly natural, or of no
superior kind to what mere nature attains to, tho more of that kind be
obtained than would be obtained if men were left wholly to themselves:
or, in other words, common grace only assists the faculties of the
soul to do that more fully which they do by nature, as natural
conscience or reason will by mere nature, make a man sensible of
guilt, and will accuse and condemn him when he has done amiss.
Conscience is a principle natural to men; and the work that it doth
naturally, or of itself, is to give an apprehension of right and
wrong, and to suggest to the mind the relation that there is between
right and wrong and a retribution. The Spirit of God, in those
convictions which unregenerate men sometimes have, assist conscience
to do this work in a further degree than it would do if they were left
to themselves: He helps it against those things that tend to stupify
it, and obstruct its exercise. But in the renewing and sanctifying
work of the Holy Ghost, those things are wrought in the soul that are
above nature, and of which there is nothing of the like kind in the
soul by nature; and they are caused to exist in the soul habitually,
and according to such a stated constitution or law that lays such
a foundation of exercises in a continued course, as is called a
principal of nature. Not only are remaining principles assisted to do
their work more freely and fully, but those principles are restored
that were utterly destroyed by the fall; and the mind thenceforward
habitually exerts those acts that the dominion of sin has made it as
wholly destitute of, as a dead body is of vital acts.
The Spirit of God acts in a very different manner in the one case,
from what He doth in the other. He may indeed act upon the mind of a
natural man, but He acts in the mind of a saint as an indwelling vital
principle. He acts upon the mind of an unregenerate person as an
extrinsic, occasional agent; for in acting upon them, He doth not
unite Himself to them; for notwithstanding all His influences that
they may be the subjects of, they are still sensual, having not the
Spirit (Jude 19). But He unites Himself with the mind of a saint,
takes him for his temple, actuates and influences him as a new
supernatural principle of life and action. There is this difference,
that the Spirit of God, in acting in the soul of a godly man, exerts
and communicates Himself there in his own proper nature. Holiness is
the proper nature of the spirit of God. The Holy Spirit operates in
the minds of the godly, by uniting Himself to them, and living in
them, and exerting His own nature in the exercise of their faculties.
The Spirit of God may act upon a creature, and yet not in acting
communicate Himself. The Spirit of God may act upon inanimate
creatures; as, the Spirit moved upon the face of the waters, in the
beginning of the creation; so the Spirit of God may act upon the minds
of men many ways, and communicate Himself no more than when He acts
upon an inanimate creature. For instance, He may excite thoughts in
them, may assist their natural reason and understanding, or may assist
other natural principles, and this without any union with the soul,
but may act, as it were, as upon an external object. But as He acts
in His holy influences and spiritual operations, He acts in a way
of peculiar communication of Himself; so that the subject is thence
denominated spiritual.
This spiritual and divine light does not consist in any impression
made upon the imagination. It is no impression upon the mind, as tho
one saw anything with the bodily eyes: it is no imagination or idea of
an outward light or glory or any beauty of form or countenance, or a
visible luster or brightness of any object. The imagination may be
strongly imprest with such things; but this is not spiritual light.
Indeed, when the mind has a lively discovery of spiritual things, and
is greatly affected by the power of divine light, it may, and probably
very commonly doth, much affect the imagination; so that impressions
of an outward beauty or brightness may accompany those spiritual
discoveries. But spiritual light is not that impression upon the
imagination, but an exceeding different thing from it. Natural men
may have lively impressions on their imaginations; and we can not
determine but the devil, who transforms himself into an angel of
light, may cause imaginations of an outward beauty, or visible glory,
and of sounds and speeches, and other such things; but these are
things of a vastly inferior nature to spiritual light.
This spiritual light is not the suggesting of any new truths or
propositions not contained in the Word of God. This suggesting of
new truths or doctrines to the mind, independent of any antecedent
revelation of those propositions, either in word or writing, is
inspiration; such as the prophets and apostles had, and such as some
enthusiasts pretend to. But this spiritual light that I am speaking
of is quite a different thing from inspiration; it reveals no new
doctrine, it suggests no new proposition to the mind, it teaches no
new thing of God, or Christ, or another world, not taught in the
Bible, but only gives a due apprehension of those things that are
taught in the Word of God.
It is not every affecting view that men have of the things of religion
that is this spiritual and divine light. Men by mere principles of
nature are capable of being affected with things that have a special
relation to religion as well as other things. A person by mere nature,
for instance, may be liable to be affected with the story of Jesus
Christ, and the sufferings He underwent, as well as by any other
tragical story; he may be the more affected with it from the interest
he conceives mankind to have in it; yea, he may be affected with it
without believing it; as well as a man may be affected with what he
reads in a romance, or sees acted in a stage play. He may be affected
with a lively and eloquent description of many pleasant things that
attend the state of the blest in heaven, as well as his imagination
be entertained by a romantic description of the pleasantness of
fairy-land, or the like. And that common-belief of the truth of the
things of religion, that persons may have from education or otherwise,
may help forward their affection. We read in Scripture of many that
were greatly affected with things of a religious nature, who yet are
there presented as wholly graceless, and many of them very ill men. A
person therefore may have affecting views of religion, and yet be very
destitute of spiritual light. Flesh and blood may be the author of
this; one man may give another an affecting view of divine things but
common assistance: but God alone can give a spiritual discovery of
them.
But I proceed to show positively what this spiritual and divine light
is.
And it may be thus described: a true sense of the divine excellency of
the things revealed in the Word of God, and a conviction of the truth
and reality of them thence arising.
This spiritual light primarily consists in the former of these--viz.,
a real sense and apprehension of the divine excellency of things
revealed in the Word of God. A spiritual and saving conviction of the
truth and reality of these things arises from such a sight of their
divine excellency and glory; so that this conviction of their truth is
an effect and natural consequence of this sight of their divine glory.
There is therefore in this spiritual light,