Heavenly contemplation assisted by sensible objects, and guarded against
a treacherous heart.
§ 1. As it is difficult to maintain a lively impression of heavenly
things, therefore, § 2. (I.) Heavenly contemplation may be assisted by
sensible objects; § 3. (1.) If we draw strong suppositions from sense;
and, § 4-11. (2.) If we compare the objects of sense with the objects
of faith, several instances of which are produced. § 12. (II.) Heavenly
contemplation may also be guarded against a treacherous heart, by
considering, § 13, 14. (1.) The great backwardness of the heart to this
duty; § 15. (2.) Its trifling in it; § 16. (3.) Its wandering from it;
and, § 17. (4.) Its too abruptly putting an end to it.
§ 1. The most difficult part of heavenly contemplation, is to maintain a
lively sense of heavenly things upon our hearts. It is easier, merely to
think of heaven a whole day, than to be lively and affectionate in those
thoughts a quarter of an hour. Faith is imperfect, for we are renewed
but in part; and goes against a world of resistance; and, being
supernatural, is prone to decline and languish, unless it be continually
excited. Sense is strong, according to the strength of the flesh; and
being natural, continues while nature continues. The objects of faith
are far off; but those of sense are nigh. We must go as far as heaven
for our joys. To rejoice in what we never saw, nor ever knew the man
that did see, and this upon a mere promise in the Bible; is not so easy,
as to rejoice in what we see and possess. It must therefore be a point
of spiritual prudence, to call in sense to the assistance of faith. It
will be a good work, if we can make friends of these usual enemies, and
make them instruments for raising us to God, which are so often the
means of drawing us from him. Why hath God given us either our senses,
or their common objects, if they might not be serviceable to his praise?
Why doth the Holy Spirit describe the glory of the New Jerusalem, in
expressions that are grateful to the flesh? Is it that we might think
heaven to be made of gold and pearl? or that saints and angels eat and
drink? No, but to help us to conceive of them as we are able, and to use
these borrowed phrases as a glass, in which we must see the things
themselves imperfectly represented, till we come to an immediate and
perfect sight. And besides shewing how heavenly contemplation may be
assisted by sensible objects,—this chapter will also shew how it may be
preserved from a wandering heart.
§ 2. (I.) In order that heavenly contemplation may be assisted by
sensible objects, let me only advise—to draw strong suppositions from
sense,—and to compare the objects of sense with objects of faith.
§ 3. (1.) For the helping of thy affections in heavenly contemplation,
draw as strong suppositions as possible from thy senses. Think on the
joys above, as boldly as Scripture hath expressed them. Bring down thy
conceptions to the reach of sense. Both love and joy are promoted by
familiar acquaintance. When we attempt to think of God and glory,
without the Scripture-manner of representing them, we are lost, and have
nothing to fix our thoughts upon; we set them so far from us, that our
thoughts are strange, and we are ready to say, what is above us, is
nothing to us. To conceive of God and glory, only as above our
conception, will beget but little love; or as above our love, will
produce little joy. Therefore put Christ no farther from you, than he
hath put himself, lest the Divine nature be again inaccessible. Think of
Christ, as in our own glorified nature. Think of glorified saints, as
men made perfect. Suppose thyself a companion with John in his survey of
the new Jerusalem, and viewing the thrones, the Majesty, the heavenly
hosts, the shining splendor, which he saw. Suppose thyself his
fellow-traveller into the celestial kingdom, and that thou hadst seen
all the saints in their _white robes_, with _palms in their hands_; and
that thou hadst heard those _Songs of Moses, and of the Lamb_. If thou
hadst really seen and heard these things, in what a rapture wouldst thou
have been? and the more seriously thou puttest this supposition to
thyself, the more will thy meditation elevate thy heart. Do not, like
the papists, draw them in pictures; but get the liveliest picture of
them in thy mind that thou possibly canst, by contemplating the
Scripture-account of them, till thou canst say, "Methinks I see a
glimpse of glory! methinks I hear the shouts of joy and praise, and even
stand by Abraham and David, Peter and Paul, and other triumphant souls!
Methinks I even see the Son of God appearing in the clouds, and the
world standing at his bar to receive their doom; and hear him say _Come
ye blessed of my Father_; and see them go rejoicing into the joy of
their Lord! My very dreams of these things have sometimes greatly
affected me, and should not these just suppositions much more affect me?
What if I had seen, with Paul, those _unutterable things_! Or, with
Stephen, had seen _heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the right hand
of God_? Surely that one sight was worth his storm of stones. What if I
had seen, as Isaiah did, _the Lord sitting upon his throne, and all the
host of heaven standing on his right hand and on his left_? Such things
did these men of God see; and I shall shortly see far more than ever
they saw, till they were loosed from flesh, as I must be." Thus you see
how it excites our affections in this heavenly work, if we make strong
and familiar suppositions from our bodily senses, concerning the state
of blessedness, as the Spirit hath in condescending language expressed
it.
§ 4. (2.) The other way in which our senses may promote this heavenly
work, is by comparing the objects of sense with the objects of faith. As
for instance:—You may strongly argue with your hearts from the corrupt
delights of sensual men, to the joys above. Think with yourselves; "Is
it such a delight to a sinner to do wickedly? And will it not be
delightful indeed to live with God? Hath the drunkard such delight in
his cups, that the fears of damnation will not make him forsake them?
Will the whore-master rather part with his credit, estate, and
salvation, than with his brutish delight? If the way to hell can afford
such pleasure, what then are the pleasures of the saints in heaven? if
the covetous man hath so much pleasure in his wealth, and the ambitious
man in places of power and titles of honor; what then have the saints in
everlasting treasures, and in heavenly honors, where we shall be set
above principalities and powers, and be made the glorious spouse of
Christ? How delightfully will the voluptuous follow their recreations
from morning to night, or sit at their cards and dice, nights and days
together? O the delight we shall have, when we come to our rest, in
beholding the face of the living God, and in singing forth praises to
him and the Lamb!"—Compare also the delights above, with the lawful and
moderate delights of sense. Think with thyself, "How sweet is food to my
taste when I am hungry; especially if it be, as Isaac said, _such as I
love_, which my temperance and appetite incline to? What delight then
must my soul have in feeding upon _Christ, the living bread_, and in
_eating with him at his table in his kingdom_? Was a _mess of pottage_
so sweet to Esau in his hunger, that he would buy it at so dear a rate
as his _birth-right_? How highly then should I value this
never-perishing food? How pleasant is drink in the extremity of thirst,
scarcely to be expressed; enough to make the _strength of Sampson
revive_? O how delightful will it be to my soul to drink of that
_fountain of living water, which whoso drinketh it shall thirst no
more_? How delightful are grateful odors to the smell; or music to the
ear; or beautiful sights to the eye? What fragrance then hath _the
precious ointment which is poured on the head_ of our glorified Savior,
and which must be poured on the head of all his saints, and will fill
all heaven with its odor? How delightful is the music _of the heavenly
host_? How pleasing will be those real beauties above? How glorious the
_building not made with hands_, the house that God himself dwells in,
the walks and prospects in _the city of God_; and the celestial
paradise!"
§ 5. Compare also the delights above, with those we find in natural
knowledge. These are far beyond the delights of sense; but how much
farther are the delights of heaven? Think then, "Can an Archimedes be so
taken up with his mathematical invention, that the threats of death
cannot disengage him, but he will die in the midst of his
contemplations? Should I not be much more taken up with the delights of
glory, and die with these contemplations fresh upon my soul; especially
when my death will perfect my delights, while those of Archimedes die
with him? What exquisite pleasure is it to dive into the secrets of
nature, and find out the mystery of arts and sciences; especially if we
make a new discovery in any one of them? What high delights are there
then in the knowledge of God and Christ? If the face of human learning
be so beautiful, as to make sensual pleasures appear base and brutish;
how beautiful then is the face of God? When we meet with some choice
book, how could we read it day and night, almost forgetful of meat,
drink, or sleep? What delights are there then at God's right hand, where
we shall know in a moment all that is to be known?"—Compare also the
delights above, with the delights of morality, and of the natural
affections. What delight had many sober heathens in the rules and
practice of moral duties, so that they took him alone for an honest man,
who did well through the love of virtue, and not merely for fear of
punishment; yea, so much valued was this moral virtue, that they thought
man's chief happiness consisted in it? Think then "What excellency will
there be in our heavenly perfection and in that uncreated perfection of
God which we shall behold? What sweetness is there in the exercise of
natural love, whether to children, parents, yoke-fellows, or intimate
friends? Does David say of Jonathan, _thy love to me was wonderful,
passing the love of women_? Did _the soul of Jonathan cleave to David_?
Had Christ himself one _disciple whom he especially loved, and who was
wont to lean on his breast_? If then the delights of close and cordial
friendship be so great, what delight shall we have in the friendship of
the Most High, and in our mutual intimacy with Jesus Christ, and in the
dearest love of the saints? Surely this will be a stricter friendship,
and these more lovely and desirable friends, than ever the sun beheld;
and both our affections to our Father and Savior, and especially theirs
to us, will be such as we never knew here. If one angel could destroy an
host, the affections of spirits must also be proportionably stronger, so
that we shall then love a thousand times more ardently than we can now.
As all the attributes and works of God are incomprehensible, so is this
of love: He will love us infinitely beyond our most perfect love to him.
What then will there be in this mutual love?"
§ 6. Compare also the excellencies of heaven, with those glorious works
of creation which our eyes now behold. What wisdom, power, and goodness,
are manifested therein? How does the majesty of the Creator shine in
this fabric of the world? _His works are great, sought out of all them
that have pleasure therein._ What Divine skill in forming the bodies of
men or beasts? What excellency in every plant? What beauty in flowers?
What variety and usefulness in herbs, fruits, and minerals? What wonders
are contained in the earth and its inhabitants; the ocean of waters,
with its motions and dimensions; and the constant succession of spring
and autumn, of summer and winter? Think then, "If these things, which
are but servants to sinful man, are so full of mysterious worth, what is
that place where God himself dwells, and which is prepared for _just men
made perfect_ with Christ? What glory is there in the least of yonder
stars? What a vast resplendent body is yonder moon, and every planet?
What an inconceivable glory hath the sun? But all this is nothing to the
glory of heaven. Yonder sun must there be laid aside as useless. Yonder
is but darkness to the lustre of my Father's house. I shall myself be as
glorious as that sun. This whole earth is but my Father's footstool.
This thunder is nothing to his dreadful voice. These winds are nothing
to the breath of his mouth. If the _sending rain, and making the sun to
rise on the just, and on the unjust_, be so wonderful; how much more
wonderful and glorious will that sun be, which must shine on none but
saints and angels?"—Compare also the enjoyments above, with the wonders
of Providence in the church and world. Would it not be an astonishing
sight to see _the sea stand as a wall on the right hand and on the left,
and the dry land appear in the midst, and the people of Israel pass
safely through, and Pharaoh and his host drowned_? or to have seen the
ten _plagues of Egypt_? or _the rock gushing forth streams_? or _manna
and quails rained from heaven_? or _the earth opening and swallowing up
the wicked_? But we shall see far greater things than these; not only
sights more wonderful, but more delightful: There shall be no blood, nor
wrath, intermingled; nor shall we cry out, as _the men of Bethshemesh,
Who is able to stand before this holy Lord God?_ How astonishing, to see
the _sun stand still_ in the firmament; or _the dial of Ahaz go back ten
degrees_? But we shall see when _there shall be no sun_; or rather shall
behold forever a sun of infinitely greater brightness. What a life
should we live, if we could have _drought or rain_ at our prayers; or
have _fire from heaven_ to destroy our enemies, as Elijah had; or raise
the dead, as Elisha; or miraculously _cure diseases_, and _speak all
languages_, as the Apostles? Alas, these are nothing to the wonders we
shall see and possess with God; and all of them wonders of goodness and
love? We shall ourselves be the subjects of more wonderful mercies than
any of these. Jonah was raised but from a three day's burial _in the
belly of a fish_; but we shall be raised from many years rottenness and
dust; and that dust exalted to the glory of the sun; and that glory
perpetuated through eternity. Surely, if we observe but common
providences; as, the motion of the sun; the tides of the sea; the
standing of the earth; the watering it with rain, as a garden; the
keeping in order a wicked confused world; with many others; they are all
admirable. But what are these to the Sion of God, the vision of the
Divine Majesty, and the order of the heavenly hosts?—Add to these those
particular providences which thou hast thyself enjoyed and recorded
through thy life, and compare them with the mercies thou shalt have
above. Look over the mercies of thy youth and riper age, of thy
prosperity and adversity, of thy several places and relations; are they
not excellent and innumerable, rich and engaging? How sweet was it to
thee, when God resolved thy doubts; scattered thy fears; prevented the
inconveniences into which thy own counsel would have cast thee; eased
thy pains; healed thy sickness; and raised thee up, as from death and
the grave? Think then, "Are all these so sweet and precious, that
without them my life would have been a perpetual misery? Hath his
providence on earth lifted me so high, _and his gentleness made me
great_? How sweet then will his glorious presence be? How high will his
eternal love exalt me? and how great shall I be made in communion with
his greatness? If my pilgrimage and warfare have such mercies, what
shall I find in my home, and in my triumph? If God communicates so much
to me while I remain a sinner; what will he bestow when I am a perfected
saint? If I have had so much at such a distance from him; what shall I
have in his immediate presence, where I shall ever stand before his
throne?"
§ 7. Compare the joys above, with the comforts thou hast here received
in ordinances. Hath not the Bible been to thee as an open fountain,
flowing with comforts day and night? What suitable promises have come
into thy mind; so that with David, thou mayest say, _Unless thy law had
been my delight, I should then have perished in mine affliction_? Think
then, "If his word be so full of consolations, what overflowing springs
shall we find in God himself? If his letters are so comfortable, what
will the glories of his presence be? If the promise is so sweet, what
will the performance be? If the testament of our Lord, and our charter
for the kingdom, be so comfortable, what will be our possession of the
kingdom itself?"—Think farther, "What delights have I also found in the
_word preached_? When I have sat under a heavenly, heart-searching
teacher, how hath my heart been warmed? Methinks I have felt myself
almost in heaven. How often have I gone to the congregation troubled in
spirit, and returned joyful? How often have I gone doubting, and God
hath sent me home persuaded of his love in Christ? What cordials have I
met with to animate me in every conflict? If but the face of Moses shine
so gloriously, what glory is there in the face of God? If _the feet of
them that publish peace, that bring good tidings of salvation, be
beautiful_; how beautiful is the face of the Prince of Peace? If _this
treasure_ be so precious _in earthen vessels_; what is that treasure
laid up in heaven? _Blessed are the eyes that see_ what is seen there,
_and the ears that hear the things_ that are heard there. There shall I
hear Elijah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, John, Peter, Paul; not preaching to
gainsayers, in imprisonment, persecution, and reproach; but triumphing
in the praises of him that hath raised them to honor and glory." Think
also, "What joy is it to have access and acceptance in prayer; that I
may always go to God, and open my case, and unbosom my soul to him, as
to my most faithful friend? But it will be a more unspeakable joy, when
I shall receive all blessings without asking, and all my necessities and
miseries will be removed, and when God himself will be the portion and
inheritance of my soul." As for the Lord's supper, "What a privilege is
it to be admitted to sit at his table, to have his covenant sealed to me
there? But all the life and comfort there, is to assure me of the
comforts hereafter. O the difference between the last supper of Christ
on earth, and the marriage-supper of the Lamb at the great day! Then his
room will be the glorious heavens; his attendants, all the hosts of
angels and saints; no Judas, no unfurnished guest, comes there; but the
humble believers must sit down by him, and their feast will be their
mutual loving and rejoicing." Concerning the communion of saints, think
with thyself, "What a pleasure is it to live with intelligent and
heavenly Christians? David says of such, _they were all his delight_. O
what a delightful society then shall I have above? Had I but seen Job on
the dunghill, what a mirror of patience? and what will it be to see him
in glory? How delightful to have heard Paul and Silas singing in the
stocks? How much more to hear them sing praises in heaven? What melody
did David make on his harp? But how much more melodious to hear that
sweet singer in the heavenly choir? What would I have given for an
hour's free converse with Paul, when he was just come down from the
third heaven? But I must shortly see those things myself, and possess
what I see." Once more, think of praising God in concert with his
saints. "What if I had been in the place of those shepherds, who saw,
and heard the heavenly host singing, _Glory to God in the highest, and
on earth peace, good will towards men_? But I shall see and hear more
glorious things. How blessed should I have thought myself, had I heard
Christ in his _thanksgivings to his Father_? How much more, when I shall
hear him pronounce me blessed? If there was such joy at _bringing back
the ark_, or at _rebuilding the temple_; what will there be in the _New
Jerusalem_? If the _earth rent_, when the people rejoiced at Solomon's
coronation; what a joyful shout will there be at the appearing of the
King of the church? If, _when the foundations of the earth were laid,
the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for
joy_; what a joyful song will there be, when the world of glory is both
founded and finished, when the top-stone is laid, and when _the holy
city is adorned as the bride, the Lamb's wife_?"
§ 8. Compare the joy thou shalt have in heaven, with what the saints
have found in the way to it, and in the foretastes of it. When did God
ever reveal the least of himself to any of his saints, but the joy of
their hearts was answerable to the revelation? In what an ecstacy was
Peter on the mount of transfiguration? _Master_, says he, _it is good
for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles! one for thee, and one
for Moses, and one for Elias_. As if he had said, "O let us not go down
again to yonder persecuting rabble; let us not return to our mean and
suffering state. Is it not better to stay here now we are here? Is not
here better company, and sweeter pleasure?" How was Paul lifted up with
what he saw? How did the face of Moses shine, when he had been talking
with God? These were all extraordinary foretastes; but little to the
full beatifical vision. How often have we read and heard of dying
saints, who have been as full of joy as their hearts could hold; and
when their bodies have felt the extremity of sickness and pain, have had
much of heaven in their spirits, and their joy hath far exceeded their
sorrows? If a spark of this fire be so glorious, even amidst the sea of
adversity; what then is glory itself? O the joy that the martyrs have
felt in the flames! They were flesh and blood, as well as we; it must
therefore be some excellent thing that filled their spirits with joy
while their bodies were burning. Think, reader, in thy meditations,
"Sure it must be some wonderful foretaste of glory that made the flames
of fire easy, and the king of terrors welcome. What then is glory
itself. What a blessed rest, when the thoughts of it made _Paul desire
to depart and be with Christ_; and makes the saints never think
themselves well, till they are dead? Shall Saunders embrace the stake,
and cry _Welcome cross_? And shall not I more delightfully embrace my
blessedness, and cry, _Welcome crown_? Shall Bradford kiss the faggot?
And shall not I kiss the Savior? Shall another poor martyr rejoice to
have her foot in the same hole of the stocks, in which Mr. Philpot's had
been before her? And shall not I rejoice, that my soul shall live in the
same place of glory, where Christ and his apostles are gone before me?
Shall fire and faggot, prisons and banishment, cruel mockings and
scourgings, be more welcome to others, than Christ and glory to me? God
forbid."
§ 9. Compare the glory of the heavenly kingdom, with the glory of the
church on earth, and of Christ in his state of humiliation. If Christ
suffering in the room of sinners had such excellency, what is Christ at
his Father's right hand? If the church under her sins and enemies have
so much beauty, what will she have at the marriage of the Lamb? How
wonderful was the Son of God in the form of a servant? When he is born,
a new star must appear, and conduct the strangers to worship him in a
manger; heavenly hosts with their songs must celebrate his nativity;
while a child, he must dispute with doctors; when he enters upon his
office, he turns water into wine; feeds thousands with a few loaves and
fishes; cleanses the lepers, heals the sick, restores the lame, gives
sight to the blind, and raises the dead. How wonderful then is his
celestial glory? If there be such _cutting down of boughs, and spreading
of garments, and crying Hosanna_, for one that _comes into Jerusalem
riding on an ass_; what will there be when he comes with his angels in
his glory? If they that heard him _preach the gospel of the kingdom_,
confess, _Never man spake like this man_; they then that behold his
majesty in his kingdom, will say, _There was never glory like this
glory_. If, when his enemies came to apprehend him, _they fell to the
ground_; if when he is dying, _the earth quakes, the veil of the temple
is rent, the sun eclipsed, the dead bodies of the saints arise, and the
standers-by acknowledge, Verily this was the Son of God_? O what a day
will it be, when the dead must all arise, and stand before him; when he
will once more _shake, not the earth only, but the heavens also_; when
this sun shall be taken out of the firmament, and be everlastingly
darkened with his glory; and when every tongue shall confess him to be
Lord and King! If, when he rose again, death and the grave lost their
power; if angels must _roll away the stone_, terrify _the keepers_ till
they are _as dead men_, and send the tidings to his disciples; if he
ascend to heaven in their sight; what power, dominion, and glory, is he
now possessed of, and which we must for ever possess with him! When he
is gone, can a few poor fishermen and tent-makers cure the lame, blind,
and sick, open prisons, destroy the disobedient, raise the dead, and
astonish their adversaries? What a world will that be, where every one
can do greater works than these! If the preaching of the gospel be
accompanied with such power as to discover the secrets of the heart;
humble the proud sinner, and make the most obdurate tremble; if it can
make men _burn their books, sell their lands, bring in the price and lay
it down at the preacher's feet_; if it can convert thousands, and _turn
the world upside down_; if its doctrine, from the prisoner at the bar,
can make the judge on the bench tremble; if Christ and his saints have
this power and honor in the day of their abasement, and in the time
appointed for their suffering and disgrace; what then will they have in
their absolute dominion, and full advancement in their kingdom of glory?
§ 10. Compare the glorious change thou shalt have at last, with the
gracious change which the Spirit hath here wrought on thy heart. There
is not the smallest sincere grace in thee, but is of greater worth than
the riches of the Indies; not a hearty desire and groan after Christ,
but is more to be valued than the kingdoms of the world. A renewed
nature is the _very image of God; Christ dwelling in us_; and _the
Spirit of God abiding in us_: It is a beam from the face of God; _the
seed of God remaining us_; the only inherent beauty of the rational
soul: It ennobles man above all nobility; fits him to understand his
Maker's pleasure, do his will, and receive his glory. If this _grain of
mustard seed_ be so precious, what is _the tree of life in the midst of
the paradise of God_? If a spark of life, which will but strive against
corruptions, and flame out a few desires and groans, be of so much
worth; how glorious then is the fountain of this life? If we are said to
be _like God_, when we are pressed down with a body of sin; sure we
shall be much more like God, when we have no such thing as sin within
us. Is the desire after, and love of heaven so excellent; what then is
the thing itself? Is our joy in foreseeing and believing so sweet; what
will be the joy of full possession! How glad is a Christian when he
feels his heart begin to melt and be dissolved with the thoughts of
sinful unkindness? Even this sorrow yields him joy. O what then will it
be, when we shall know, and love, and rejoice, and praise in the highest
perfection? Think with thyself, "What a change was it, to be taken from
that state wherein I was born, and in which I was rivetted by custom,
when thousands of sins lay upon my score, and if I had so died, I had
been damned forever? What an astonishing change, to be justified from
all these enormous crimes, and freed from all these fearful plagues, and
made an heir of heaven? How often, when I have thought of my
regeneration, have I cried out, O blessed day! and blessed be the Lord
that ever I saw it! How then shall I cry out in heaven, O blessed
eternity! and blessed be the Lord that brought me to it! Did the angels
of God rejoice to see my conversion? Surely they will congratulate my
felicity in my salvation. Grace is but a spark raked up in the ashes,
covered with flesh from the sight of the world, and sometimes covered
with corruption from my own sight; but my everlasting glory will not be
so clouded, nor my light be _under a bushel, but on a hill_, even upon
Mount Sion, the Mount of God."
§ 11. Once more, compare the joys which thou shalt have above, with
those foretastes of it which the Spirit hath given thee here. Hath not
God sometimes revealed himself extraordinarily to thy soul, and let a
drop of glory fall upon it? Hast thou not been ready to say, "O that it
might be thus with my soul continually?" Didst thou never cry out with
the martyr, after thy long and mournful expectations, "He is come, He is
come?" Didst thou never, under a lively sermon of heaven, or in thy
retired contemplations on that blessed state, perceive thy drooping
spirits revive, and thy dejected heart lift up the head, and the light
of heaven dawn on thy soul? Think with thyself, "What is this earnest to
the full inheritance? Alas, all this light, that so amazeth and
rejoiceth me, is but a candle lighted from heaven, to lead me thither
through this world of darkness: If some godly men have been overwhelmed
with joy, till they have cried out, _Hold, Lord, stay thy hand; I can
bear no more_: What then will be my joys in heaven, when my soul shall
be so capable of seeing and enjoying God, that though the light be ten
thousand times greater than the sun, yet my eyes shall be able for ever
to behold it?" Or, if thou hast not yet felt these sweet foretastes,
(for every believer hath not felt them,) then make use of such delights
as thou hast felt, in order the better to discern what thou shalt
hereafter feel.
§ 12. (II.) I am now to shew how heavenly contemplation may be preserved
from a wandering heart. Our chief work is here to discover the danger,
and that will direct to the fittest remedy. The heart will prove the
greatest hinderance in this heavenly employment; either, by backwardness
to it;—or, by trifling in it;—or, by frequent excursions to other
objects;—or, by abruptly ending the work before it is well begun. As you
value the comfort of this work, these dangerous evils must be faithfully
resisted.
§ 13. (1.) Thou wilt find thy heart as backward to this, I think, as to
any work in the world. O what excuses will it make! What evasions will
it find out! What delays and demurs, when it is ever so much convinced!
either it will question, whether it be a duty or not, or, if it be so to
others, whether to thyself. It will tell thee, "This is a work for
ministers, that have nothing else to study; or for persons that have
more leisure than thou hast." If thou be a minister, it will tell thee,
"This is the duty of the people; it is enough for thee to meditate for
their instruction, and let them meditate on what they have heard." As if
it was thy duty only to cook their meat, and serve it up, and they alone
must eat it, digest it, and live upon it. If all this will not do, thy
heart will tell thee of other business, or set thee upon some other
duty; for it had rather go to any duty than this. Perhaps it will tell
thee, "Other duties are greater, and therefore this must give place to
them, because thou hast no time for both. Public business is more
important; to study and preach for the saving of souls, must be
preferred before these private contemplations." As if thou hadst not
time to care for thy own salvation, for looking after that of others. Or
thy charity to others were so great, that it obliges thee to neglect thy
own eternal welfare. Or as if there were any better way to fit us to be
useful to others, than making this proof of our doctrine ourselves.
Certainly heaven is the best fire to light our candle at, and the best
book for a preacher to study; and if we would be persuaded to study that
more, the church would be provided with more heavenly lights; and when
our studies are divine, and our spirits divine, our preaching will also
be divine, and we may be called divines indeed. Or, if thy heart have
nothing to say against the work, it will trifle away the time in delays,
and promise this day and the next, but still keep off from the business.
Or, it will give thee a flat denial, and oppose its own unwillingness to
thy reason. All this I speak of the heart, so far as it is still carnal;
for I know, so far as it is spiritual, it will judge this the sweetest
work in the world.
§ 14. What is now to be done? Wilt thou do it, if I tell thee? Wouldst
thou not say in a like case, "What should I do with a servant that will
not work? or with a horse that will not travel? Shall I keep them to
look at?" Then faithfully deal thus with thy heart; persuade it to the
work; take no denial; chide it for its backwardness; use violence with
it. Hast thou no command of thy own thoughts? Is not the subject of thy
meditations a matter of choice, especially under this conduct of thy
judgment? Surely God gave thee, with thy new nature, some power to
govern thy thoughts. Art thou again become a slave to thy depraved
nature? Resume thy authority. Call in the Spirit of Christ to thine
assistance, who is never backward to so good a work, nor will deny his
help in so just a cause. Say to him, "Lord, thou gavest my reason the
command of my thoughts and affections; the authority I have received
over them is from thee; and now behold, they refuse to obey thine
authority: Thou commandest me to set them to the work of heavenly
meditation, but they rebel and stubbornly refuse the duty. Wilt thou not
assist me to exercise that authority which thou hast given me? O send
down thy Spirit, that I may enforce thy commands, and effectually compel
them to obey thy will!" Thus thou shalt see thy heart will submit, its
resistance be overcome, and its backwardness be turned into cheerful
compliance.
§ 15. (2.) Thy heart will also be likely to betray thee by trifling,
when it should be effectually meditating. Perhaps, when thou hast an
hour for meditation, the time will be spent before thy heart will be
serious. This doing of duty, as if we did it not, ruins as many as the
omission of it. Here let thine eye be always upon thy heart. Look not so
much to the time it spends in the duty, as to the quantity and quality
of the work that is done. You can tell by his work, whether a servant
hath been diligent. Ask yourself, "What affections have been yet
exercised? How much am I yet got nearer to heaven?" Think not, since thy
heart is so trifling, it is better to let it alone: for, by this means,
thou wilt certainly banish all spiritual obedience; because the best
hearts, being but sanctified in part, will resist, so far as they are
carnal. But rather consider well the corruption of thy nature; and that
its sinful indispositions will not supersede the commands of God; nor
one sin excuse for another; and that God has appointed means to excite
our affections. This self-reasoning, self-considering duty of heavenly
meditation, is the most singular means, both to excite and increase
love. Therefore stay not from the duty, till thou feelest thy love
constrain thee; any more than thou wouldst stay from the fire, till thou
feelest thyself warm; but engage in the work, till love is excited, and
then love will constrain thee to further duty.
§ 16. (3.) Thy heart will also be making excursions from thy heavenly
meditation to other objects. It will be turning aside, like a careless
servant, to talk with every one that passeth by. When there should be
nothing in thy mind but heaven, it will be thinking of thy calling, or
thy afflictions, or of every bird, or tree, or place thou seest. The
cure is here the same as before; use watchfulness and violence. Say to
thy heart, "What, did I come hither to think of my worldly business, of
persons, places, news, or vanity, or of any thing but heaven, be it ever
so good? _Canst thou not watch one hour?_ Wouldst thou leave this world,
and dwell for ever with Christ in heaven, and not leave it one hour to
dwell with Christ in meditation? _Is this thy love to thy friend?_ Dost
thou love Christ, and the place of thy eternal, blessed abode, no more
than this?" If _the_ ravening _fowls_ of wandering thoughts devour the
meditations intended for heaven, they devour the life and joy of thy
thoughts: Therefore _drive them away_ from thy sacrifice, and strictly
keep thy heart to the work.
§ 17. (4.) Abruptly ending thy meditation before it is well begun, is
another way in which thy heart will deceive thee. Thou mayest easily
perceive this in other duties. In secret prayer, is not thy heart urging
thee to cut it short, and frequently making a motion to have done? So in
heavenly contemplation, thy heart will be weary of the work, and will
stop thy heavenly walk before thou art well warm. But charge it in the
name of God to stay, and not do so great a work by halves. Say to it,
"Foolish heart! if thou beg a while, and goest away before thou hast thy
alms, is not thy begging a lost labor? If thou stoppest before the end
of thy journey, is not thy travel lost? Thou camest hither in hope to
have a sight of the glory which thou must inherit; and wilt thou stop
when thou art almost at the top of the hill, and turn back before thou
hast taken thy survey? Thou camest hither in hope to speak with God, and
wilt thou go before thou hast seen him? Thou camest to bathe thyself in
the streams of consolation, and to that end didst unclothe thyself of
thy earthly thoughts, and wilt thou only touch the bank and return? Thou
camest to _spy out the land of promise_; go not back without _one
cluster of grapes, to shew thy brethren_ for their encouragement. Let
them see that thou hast tasted of the wine, by the gladness of thy
heart; and that thou hast been anointed with the oil, by the
cheerfulness of thy countenance: and hast fed of the milk and honey, by
the mildness of thy disposition, and the sweetness of thy conversation.
This heavenly fire would melt thy frozen heart, and refine and
spiritualize it; but it must have time to operate." Thus pursue the work
till something be done, till thy graces be in exercise, thy affections
raised, and thy soul refreshed with the delights above; or if thou canst
not obtain these ends at once, be the more earnest at another time.
_Blessed is that servant, whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so
doing._