and therefore I may venture to confess my great iniquities, for the
satisfaction is equal to them all. When I behold God upon his seat,
I behold the Lamb in the midst of the throne as it had been slain,
and he is my Peace-maker. I see his all-sufficient sacrifice, his
atoning blood, his perfect, his justifying righteousness.” The soul
then answers the call of God with great readiness, when God says
in Isaiah i. 18. “Come let us reason together; though your sins
have been as scarlet, they shall be as wool.” “I am ready (says
the soul) to enter into such reasonings; I am ready to confess
before thee, that my sins are all crimson and scarlet, but there is
cleansing blood with thy Son. Blood that has washed the garments of
a thousand sinners, and made them as white as snow; and it has the
same virtue still to wash mine too; I trust in it, and rejoice when
I behold that blood sprinkled upon the mercy-seat, and therefore I
grow confident in hope, and draw yet nearer to God, a reconciled
God, since his throne has the memorials of a bleeding sacrifice
upon it.”
2. If I could get nearer the seat of God I would tell him how many
my enemies are, and how strong; how malicious, and how full of
rage. And I would beg strength against them, and victory over them.
I would say as David, “Many there be that hate me, many there be
that rise up against me, and many there be that say of my soul,
There is no help for him in God; but thou, O God, art my glory, my
shield, and the lifter up of my head,” Psal. iii. Then, says the
soul, I would complain to God of all my indwelling corruptions,
of the body of death that dwells in me, or in which I dwell; and
say; “O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me!” I would
tell him then of the secret working of pride in my heart, though
I long to be humble; of the rising of ambition in my soul, though
I would willingly maintain a middle state amongst men, and not
aim and aspire to be great. I would acquaint him of the vanity of
my own mind, though I am perpetually endeavouring to subdue it.
I would tell him, with tears, of my sinful passions, of my anger
and impatience, and the workings of envy and revenge in me; of the
perpetual stirrings of disorderly appetites, whereby I am led away
from my God; I would tell him of the hardness of my heart, and the
obstinacy of my temper. I would open before his eyes all the vices
of my constitution; all those sacred seeds of iniquity that are
ever budding and blossoming to bring forth fruit to death. These
things are fit to mourn before the Lord, when the soul is come near
to his seat.
I would complain of this sore enemy, the world, that is perpetually
besetting me, that strikes upon all my senses, that by the ears,
and the eyes, and all the outward faculties, draws my heart away
from God my best friend. I would tell him of the rage of Satan,
that watchful and malicious adversary; that I cannot engage in
any duty of worship but he is ready to throw in some foolish or
vain suggestion to divert me; and I would look forward, and point
to my last enemy, death, and beg the presence of my God with me,
when I walk through the dark valley; “Lord, when I enter into that
conflict, assist me, that I may fear no evil, but be made more than
a conqueror through him that has loved me.”
3. I would tell him what darkness I labour under, either in respect
of faith or practice. If I am perplexed in my mind, and entangled
about any of the doctrines of the gospel, I would tell them my
God what my entanglements are, where the difficulty lies; and I
would beg, that by his Spirit and his word, he would solve the
controversy, and set his own truth before me in his own divine
light. And then in point of practice, what darkness lies upon the
spirit at such a time, is revealed before God: “My way is hedged
up, I know not what path to chuse; it is very hard for me to find
out duty; show me, O Lord, the way wherein I should walk, and mark
out my path plain for me.”
4. I would mourn, and tell him how little converse I have with
himself, how much he is hidden from me; I would complain to him,
how far off I am from him the most part of my life, how few are
the hours of my communion with him, how short is the visit, how
much his face is concealed from me, and how far my heart is divided
from him. A soul then says, “Surely there is too great a distance
between me and my God, my heavenly Father;” and cries out with
bitterness, “Why is God so far from me, and why is my heart so
far from God? How often do I wait upon him in his own sanctuary,
and among his saints, but I am not favoured with a sight of his
power and glory there! And how often do I seek him in my secret
retirements, but I find him not! I would tell him how often I read
his promises in the gospel, and taste no sweetness; I go frequently
to those wells of consolation and they seem to be dry; then I turn
my face, and go away ashamed.”
5. I would tell him too of my temporal troubles, if I get near to
God, because they unfit me for his service, they make me uncapable
of honouring him in the world, and render me unfit for enjoying
him in his ordinances; I would tell him how they damp my zeal,
how they bow my spirit down, and make me go mourning all the day
long, to the dishonour of Christianity, which is a dispensation
of grace and joy. Thus I might complain before God of pains, of
weakness, of sickness, of the disorders of my flesh; I might
complain there too of the weakness of all my powers, the want of
memory, the scatterings and confusions that are upon my thoughts,
the wanderings of my fancy, and the unhappy influence that a
feeble and diseased body has upon the mind: “O my God, how am I
divided from thee by dwelling in such a tabernacle! Still patching
up a tottering cottage, and wasting my best hours in a painful
attendance on the infirmities of the flesh!”
I might then take the liberty of spreading before my God all the
sorrows and vexations of life, that unhinge my soul from its
centre, that throw it off from my guard, and hurry and expose me to
daily temptations. I might complain of my reproaches from friends
and enemies; because these, many times, wear out the spirit and
unfit it for acts of lively worship. These are my weekly sorrows
and groans, these are my daily fears and troubles; and these shall
be spread before the eyes of my God, in the happy hour when I get
near him.
Lastly, I would not go away without a word of pity and complaint
concerning my relations, my friends and acquaintance, that are afar
off from God. I would put in one word of petition for them that are
careless unconcerned for themselves; I would weep a little at the
seat of God for them: I would leave a tear or two at the throne
of mercy, for my dearest relatives in the flesh, for children,
brothers or sisters, that they may be brought near to God, in the
bonds of the Spirit. Then would I remember my friends in Christ,
my brethren and kindred in the gospel; such as labour under heavy
burdens, languish under various infirmities of life, or groan under
the power of strong temptations. When God indulges me the favour
of his ear, I would spread their wants and sorrows before him,
together with my own, and make supplication for all the saints. I
would leave a petition at the mercy-seat for my native country,
that knowledge and holiness may overspread the nation; that our
king may be a nursing-father to the church, and our princes may
be blessings to the land. And while I send up my request for the
British Islands, I would breathe out many a sigh for Zion, that she
may be the joy of the whole earth.--I proceed now to.
III. The third head of inquiry, which is this: Why does a saint,
when he gets near to God delight to tell him all his circumstances,
and all his sorrows?
In general I might say this, because it is so seldom, at least in
our day, that a saint gets very near to God; therefore when he
finds that happy minute, he says to his God all he wants to say;
he tells him all his heart; he pours out all his wants before him;
because these seasons are very few. It is but here and there an
extraordinary Christian, who maintains constant nearness to God;
the best complain of too much distance and estrangement. But to
descend to particulars.
1. He is our chief friend, and it is an ease to the soul to vent
itself in the bosom of a friend, when we are in his company. More
especially as it was in the case of Job, when other friends failed
him when he began to tell them some of his sorrows, and withal
maintained his own integrity; they would not believe him, but
became his troublers instead of his comforters; “My friends, scorn
me,” saith Job, ch. xvi. 20, “but mine eye pours out tears to God.”
I go to my best friend, my friend in heaven, when my friends here
on earth neglect me.
Man is a sociable creature, and our joys and our sorrows are
made to be communicated, that hereby we may double the one and
alleviate the other. There is scarce any piece of human nature,
be it ever so stupid, but feels some satisfaction in the pleasure
of a friend, in communicating the troubles and the pleasures that
it feels; but those that have God for their highest and best
friend, they love to be often exercising such acts of friendship
with him, and rather with him than with any friend besides, rather
with him than all besides him. This is the noblest and highest
friendship; all condescension and compassion on the one side, and
all infirmity and dependance on the other! and yet both joined is
mutual satisfaction. Amazing grace of God to man! The Christian
rejoices in this admirable divine indulgence, and delights in all
opportunities to employ and improve it.
Besides, this is the way to maintain the vigour of piety, and
keep all the springs of divine love ever open and flowing in his
own heart; therefore he makes many a visit to the mercy-seat, and
takes occasion from every troublesome occurence in life, to betake
himself to his knees, and improves every sorrow he meets on earth,
to increase his acquaintance with heaven. He delights to talk all
his grievances over with his God. Hannah, the mother of Samuel,
is a blessed example of this practice, 1 Sam. i. 10. When she was
in bitterness of soul, by reason of a sore affliction, and the
teazing humour of her rival, she prayed to the Lord, and wept sore,
and when she had left her sorrows at the mercy-seat, she went away,
and did eat, and her countenance was no more sad, ver. 18. So
saith the Christian, “I commit my sorrows to my God, he is my best
friend, and I go away, and am no more sad; I have poured out my
cares into his ear, and cast my burdens upon him, and I leave them
there in peace.”
2. The saint knows God will understand him right, and will judge
right concerning his case and his meaning. Though the expression
(it may be) are very imperfect, below the common language of men,
and propriety of speech, yet God knows the meaning of the soul,
and he knows the mind of his Spirit, Rom. viii. The friends of Job
perverted his sense; therefore he turns aside to God, for he knows
God would understand him. It is a very great advantage, when we
spread our concerns before another person, to be well assured that
person will take us right, will take in our meaning fully, and
judge aright concerning our cause. Now we may be assured of this
when we speak to our God; he knows our thoughts afar, off, and all
our circumstances, better infinitely than we can tell him. These
our poor imperfect expressions of our wants, shall be no hinderance
to his full supplies, nor any bar to his exercise of friendship
toward us.
3. A saint pours out his soul before God, because he is sure of
secrecy there. How many things are there transacted between God and
a holy soul, that he could never publish to the world! and many
things also that concern his conduct in life, his embarassment of
spirit, his difficulties, his follies, or the obstinacy, guilt,
or follies of his friends or relatives, which prudence or shame
forbid him to tell his fellow creatures: and yet he wants to spread
them all before God his best friend, God his dearest relative,
the friend nearest to his heart. There may be many circumstances
and cases in life, especially in the spiritual life, which one
Christian could hardly communicate to another, though under
the strictest bonds and ties of natural, and civil, and sacred
relation; though we may communicate these very affairs, these
secret concerns, with our God, and unburden our souls of every
care, without the least public notice.
We cannot be perfect secure of this with regard to any creature;
for when we have experienced the faithfulness of a friend many
years, he may possibly be at last unfaithful: unfaithfulness is
mingled with our nature since the fall, and it is impossible any
person can be infallibly secure from it. Psal. lxii. 9. Men of
low degree are vanity, and great men are a lie; but we may leave
our case with our God, as secure as though we had communicated
it to none: nay, we may be easily secure and free in speaking,
because God knows all before-hand. Our complaint adds nothing to
his knowledge, although it eases our souls, and gives us sweet
satisfaction in having such a friend to speak to.
4. A saint believes the equity, faithfulness, and the love of God;
therefore he spreads his case before him. His equity, that the
judge of all the earth will do right; the righteous may plead with
him. His faithfulness, that he will fulfil all his promises; and
his love, that he will take compassion on those who are afflicted;
he will be tender to those who are miserable. David takes occasion
from this to address God under his sufferings and sorrows: Psal.
lxii. 1, 2. “He is my rock, and my salvation, and my defence; I
shall not be moved; therefore my soul waits upon God; my refuge is
in him; he is a God that hears prayer, therefore unto him shall
all flesh come,” Psal. lxv. 1. God will not account our complaints
troublesome, though they be never so often repeated; whereas men
are quickly wearied with the importunities of those who are poor
and needy. Great men are ready to shut their doors against those
who come too often for relief; but God delights to hear often from
his people, and to have them ask continually at his door for
mercy. Though he has almighty power with him, saith Job, yet he
will not plead against me with his great power; no, but he would
put strength in me; he would teach me how I should answer him; how
I should answer his justice, by appeals to his mercy; and how I
should speak prevailingly before him.
5. Lastly, A saint tells God all his circumstances and sorrows at
such a season, because he hopes for relief from him, and from him
only; for it is impossible creatures can give relief under any
trouble, unless God make them instruments of relief. And there are
some troubles in which creatures cannot be our helpers, but our
help must come only from God, and that in a more immediate way.
Whatsoever be our distress, whether it arise from past guilt and
the torments of an anxious and troubled conscience, or whether
it arise from the working of indwelling sin, the strength of
temptation, or the violence of temporal afflictions, still God is
able and willing to give relief. “Call upon me (saith the Lord) in
the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify
me;” Psal. 1. 12. And he hath never said to the seed of Jacob, seek
ye my face in vain, Isa. xlv. 19.
IV. The fourth general head of discourse which I proposed, is to
shew how a saint, near the mercy-seat, pleads with God for relief.
Holy Job tells us in this text, that if he was got near to the seat
of God, he would fill his mouth with arguments.
Not as though he would inform God of the necessity, or the justice
of his cause, beyond what he knew before; no, this is impossible;
he that teacheth man all things, shall he not know? Psal. xciv. 9,
10. He who orders all the circumstances of our lives, and every
stroke of his own rod, can he be unacquainted with any thing that
relates to our sorrows?
Nor can we use arguments with God to awaken his ear, or move
his compassion, as though he had neglected us or forgotten our
distress; for all things are for ever naked and open before the
eyes of him with whom we have to do. The shepherd of Israel cannot
slumber; nor does his mercy want our awakenings.
But in this sort of expressions, the great God condescends to talk,
and to transact affairs with us, and permits us to treat with him
in a way suited to our weakness; he would have us plead and argue
with him, that we may show how deep a sense we have of our own
wants, and how entirely we depend on his mercy. Since we cannot
converse with him in a way equal to his own majesty and Godhead he
stoops to talk with us in such a way as is most agreeable to our
state, and most easy to our apprehension, he speaks such language
as we can understand, and invites us to humble conference with
him in the same way. Come, says God to his people, by Isaiah his
prophet, Come now, and let us reason together, Isa. i. 18. And he
often in holy scripture, represents himself as moved and influenced
by the prayers and pleadings of his afflicted saints; and he has
ordained before hand, that the day when he prepares their hearts to
pray, shall be the day when his ear shall hear the desire of the
humble, and shall be the season of their deliverence, Psal. x. 17.
If you inquire, how a Christian pleads with his God, and whence
does he borrow his arguments; I answer, that according to the
various sorrows and difficulties which attend him, so various
may his pleadings be for the removal of them. There is not a
circumstance which belongs to his affliction, but he may draw some
argument from it to plead for mercy; there is not one attribute of
the divine nature, but he may use it with holy skill, and thereby
plead for grace; there is not one relation in which God stands
to his people, nor one promise of his covenant, but may at some
time or other afford an argument in prayer. But the strongest
and sweetest argument that a Christian knows, is the name and
mediation of Jesus Christ his Lord. It is for the sake of Christ,
who has purchased all the blessings of the covenant, that a saint
hopes to receive them; and for the sake of Christ, he pleads that
God would bestow them.
But having treated largely on this subject, it remains that I make
a few useful reflections on the whole foregoing discourse.
REFLECTION I.
What a dull and uncomfortable thing is religion without drawing
near to God! for this is the very business for which religion is
designed; the end and aim of religion is getting nigh to God; if it
attain not this end it is nothing.
O the madness of hypocrites, who satisfy themselves to toil in long
forms of worship, and appear perpetually in the shapes of religion,
but unconcerned whether they ever get near to God by it or no!
They lose the end and design for which religion was made. What
if we know all the doctrines of the gospel; what if we can talk
rationally about natural religion; what if we can deduce one truth
from another, so as to spread a whole scheme of godliness before
the eyes or ears of those we converse with; what if we can prove
all the points of Christianity, and give uncontestable arguments
for the belief of them; yet we have no religion if our souls never
get near to God by them. A saint thinks it a very melancholy thing
when he is at a distance from God, and cannot tell God his wants
and sorrows. Though he be never so much studied in divinity, and
the deep things of God, yet if God be not with him, if he does not
come near to his mercy-seat, so as to converse with him as his
friend, the soul is concerned and grieved, and never rests till
this distance be removed. It is to little purpose all these forms
are maintained, if we have not the substance and the power of
godliness; if our God be not near us, if we never get near to God.
REFLECTION II.
How happy are we under the gospel, above all ages and nations
besides us, and before us! For we have advantages of getting near
to God, beyond what any other religion has; above what the heathen
world ever enjoyed; for their light of nature could never show
them the throne of grace; above what the ancient patriarchs had,
though God came down in visible shapes, and revealed and discovered
himself to them as a man or an angel; above what the Jews had,
though God dwelt among them in visible glory in the holy of holies.
The people were kept at a distance, and the high-priest was to come
thither but once a-year; and their veil, and smokes, and shadows,
did, as it were, conceal God from them, although they were types
of a future Messiah; and even their Shekinah itself, or cloud of
glory, gave them no spiritual idea or notion of Godhead, though it
was a shining emblem of God dwelling among them.
REFLECTION III.
Lastly, That future state of glory must be blessed indeed where we
shall be ever near to God, even to his seat, and have no sorrows
to tell him of. If it be so delightful a thing to come near the
seat of God here upon earth, to mourn before him, and to tell
him all our circumstances, and all our sorrows, how pleasurable
a blessedness must that of heaven be, where we shall be ever
rejoicing before him, as Christ Jesus was before the world was
made, rejoicing daily before him; and our delight shall be with
that God who created the sons of men; where we shall be for ever
telling him of our joys, and our pleasures, with humble adoration
of his grace, and everlasting gratitude.
O that I could raise your souls, and mine, to blessed breathings
after this felicity, by such representations! But how infinitely
short must the brightest descriptions fall of this state and place!
May you and I, who speak and hear this, may every soul of us be
made thus happy one day, and learn the extent and glory of this
blessedness, by sweet and everlasting experience. Amen.
FINIS.
A
TOKEN FOR
MOURNERS.
WITH A SELECTION OF
SCRIPTURE PROMISES,
RELATIVE TO
THE TROUBLES of LIFE.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.
[Illustration]
GLASGOW;
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
A
TOKEN
FOR
MOURNERS.
&c.
2. KINGS, iv. 26.
_And she answered, It is well._