CHAPTER XXVIII--EMMANUEL'S LAST CHARGE TO MANSOUL: CONCERNING THE

REMAINDERS OF SIN IN THE REGENERATE

'Hold fast till I come.'--_Our Lord_.

There are many fine things in Emmanuel's last charge to Mansoul, but by

far the best thing is the answer that He Himself there supplies to this

deep and difficult question,--to this question, namely, Why original sin

is still left to rage in the truly regenerate? Why does our Lord not

wholly extirpate sin in our regeneration? What can His reason be for

leaving their original sin to dwell in His best saints till the day of

their death? For, to use His own sad words about sin in His last charge,

nothing hurts us but sin. Nothing defiles and debases us but sin. Why,

then, does He not take our sin clean out of us at once? He could speak

the word of complete deliverance if He only would. Why, then, does He

not speak that word? That has been a mystery and a grief to all God's

saints ever since sanctification began to be. And the great interest and

the great value of Emmanuel's last charge to Mansoul stands in this, that

He here tells us, if not all, then at least some of His reasons for the

policy He pursues with us in our sanctification. Dost thou know, He

asks, as He stands on His chariot steps, surrounded with His captains on

the right hand and the left--Dost thou know why I at first did, and do

still, suffer sin to live and dwell and harbour in thy heart? And then,

after an _O yes_! for silence, the Prince began and thus proceeded:

1. Dost thou ask at Me why I and My Father have seen it good to allow

the dregs of thy sinfulness still to corrupt and to rot in thine heart?

Dost thou ask why, amid so much in thee that is regenerate, there is

still so much more that is unregenerate? Why, while thou art, without

controversy, under grace, indwelling sin still so festers and so breaks

out in thee? Dost thou ask that? Then, attend, and before I go away to

come again I will try to tell thee, if, indeed, thou art able and willing

to bear it. Well, then, be silent while I tell thee that I have left all

that of thy original sin in thee to tempt thee, to try thee, to humble

thee, and to thrust, day and night, upon thee, what is still in thine

heart. To humble thee, take knowledge, take warning, and take

forethought. To make thee humble, and to keep thee humble. To hide

pride from thee, and to lay thee all thy days on earth in the dust of

death. I tell thee this day that in all thy past life I have ordered and

administered all My providences toward thee to humble thee and to prove

thee, and to make thee dust and ashes in thine own eyes. And I go away

to carry on from heaven this same intention of My Father's and Mine

toward thee. We shall try thee as silver is tried. We shall sift thee

as wheat is sifted. We shall search thee as Jerusalem is searched with

lighted candles. I tell thee the truth, I shall bend from heaven all My

power which My Father has given Me, and all My wisdom, and all My love,

and all My grace. What to do, dost thou think? What to do but to make

thee to know and to acknowledge the plague of thine own heart. The

deceitfulness, that is, the depth of wickedness, and the abominableness,

past all words, of thine own heart. I do not ascend to My Father, with

all things in My hand, to make thy seat soft, and thy cup sweet, and thy

name great, and thy seed multiplied. I have far other predestinations

before Me for thee. I have loved thee with an everlasting love, and it

is to everlasting life that I am leading thee. And thou must let Me lead

thee through fire and through water if I am to lead thee to heaven at

last. I shall have to utterly kill all self-love out of thy heart, and

to plant all humility in its place. Many and dreadful discoveries shall

I have to make to thee of thy profane and inhuman self-love and

selfishness. Words will fail thee to confess all thy selfishness in thy

most penitent prayer. Thy towering pride of heart also, and thy so

contemptible vanity. As for thy vanity, I shall so overrule it that

double-minded men about thee shall make thee and thy vanity their sport,

their jest, and their prey. And I shall not leave thee, nor discharge

Myself of My work within thee, till I see thee loathing thyself and

hating thyself and gnashing thy teeth at thyself for thy envy of thy

brother, thy envy concerning his house, his wife and his man-servant, and

his maid-servant, and his ox, and his ass, and everything that is his.

Thou shalt find something in thee that shall allow thee to see thine

enemy prosper, but not thy friend. Something that shall keep thee from

thy sleep because of his talents, his name, his income, and his place

which I have given him above thee, beside thee, and always in thy sight.

It will be something also that shall make his sickness, his decay, his

defamation, and his death sweet to thee, and his prosperity and return to

life bitter to thee. Thou shalt have to confess something in

thyself--whatever its nature and whatever its name--something that shall

make thee miserable at good news, and glad and enlarged and full of life

at evil tidings. It will be something also that shall give a long life

in thy evil heart to anger, and to resentment, and to retaliation, and to

revenge. For after years and years thou shalt still have it in thine

heart to hate and to hurt that man and his house, because long ago he

left thy side, thy booth in the market, thy party in the state, and thy

church in religion. As I live, swore Emmanuel, standing up on the step

of His ascending chariot, I shall show thee thyself. I shall show thee

what an unclean heart is and a wicked. I shall teach to thee what all

true saints shudder at when they are let see the plague of their own

hearts. I shall show thee, as I live, how full of pride, and hate, and

envy, and ill-will a regenerate heart can be; and how a true-born man of

God may still love evil and hate good; may still rejoice in iniquity and

pine under the truth. I shall show thee, also, what thou wilt not as yet

believe, how thy best friend cannot trust his good name with thee; such a

sweet morsel to thee shall be the mote in his eye and the spot on his

praise. Yes, I shall show thee that I did not die on the cross for

nothing when I died for thee; when I went out to Calvary a shame and a

spitting, an outcast and a curse for thee! Thou shalt yet arise up and

fall down in thy sin and shalt justify all my thorns, and nails, and

spears, and the last drop of My blood for thee! Yea, thou shalt remember

all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the

wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, and to know what was in

thine heart, and whether thou wouldest keep His commandments or no.

2. It is also, the still tarrying Prince proceeded--it is also to keep

thee wakeful and to make thee watchful. Now, what conceivable estate

could any man be put into even by his Maker and Redeemer more calculated

to call forth wakefulness and watchfulness than to have one half of his

heart new and the other half old? To have one half of his heart

garrisoned by the captains of Emmanuel, and the other half still full of

the spies and the scouts and the emissaries of hell? Nay, to have the

great bulk of his heart still full of sin and but a small part of his

heart here and there under grace and truth? Here is material for

fightings without and fears within with a vengeance! If it somehow suits

and answers God's deep purposes with His people to teach them

watchfulness in this life, then here is a field for watchfulness, a field

of divine depth and scope and opportunity. There used to be a divinity

question set in the schools in these terms: Where, in the regenerate,

hath sin its lodging-place? For that sin does still lodge in the

regenerate is too abundantly evident both from Scripture and from

experience. But where it so lodges is the question. The Dominican

monks, and some others, were of opinion that original sin is to be found

only in the inferior part of the soul, but not in the mind or the will.

Which, I suppose, we shall soon find contrary both to Scripture and

reason and experience. Old Andrew Gray speaks feelingly and no less

truly concerning the heart, when he says, 'I think,' he says, 'that if

all the saints since Adam's day, and who shall be to the end of the

world, had but one deceitful heart to guide they would misguide it.' What

a plot of God, then, it is to seat grace, a little saving grace, in the

midst of such a sea of corruption as a human heart is, and then to set a

sinful man to watch over that spark and to keep the boiling pollutions of

his own heart from extinguishing that spark! Well may Paul exclaim: Yea,

what carefulness it calls forth in us; yea, what indignation; yea, what

fear; yea, what vehement desire; yea, what zeal; yea, what revenge! And,

knowing to what He has left our hearts, well may Emmanuel say to us from

His ascending steps, 'Watch ye, therefore; and what I say unto you, I say

unto all, Watch!'

3. It is to keep thee watchful and to teach thee war also, the Prince

went on. Bishop Butler is about the last author that we would think of

going to for light on any deep and intricate question in the evangelical

and experimental life. But Butler is so deeply seen into much of the

heart of man, as also into many of the ways of God, that even here he has

something to say to the point. 'It is vain to object,' he says in his

sober and sobering way, 'that all this trouble and danger might have been

saved us by our being made at once the creatures and the characters which

we were to be. For we experience that what we are to be is to be the

effect of what we shall do. And that the conduct of nature is not to

save us trouble and danger, but to make us capable of going through

trouble and danger, and to put it upon us to do it.' The Apostle Peter

has the same teaching in a passage too little attended to, in which he

tells us that we are set here to work out our own salvation, and that our

salvation will just be what, with fear and trembling, or, as Butler says,

with trouble and danger, we work out. No man, let all men understand, is

to have his salvation thrust upon him. No man need expect to waken up at

the end of an idle, indifferent, inattentive life and find his salvation

superinduced upon all that. No man shall wear the crown of everlasting

life who has not for himself won it. As every man soweth to the Spirit

so also shall he reap. As a soldier warreth, so shall he hear it said to

him, Well done. And as a sinner keeps his heart with all diligence, and

holds it fast till his King comes, so shall he hear it said to him, Thou

hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many

things. If thy sins, then, are left in thee to teach thee war, O poor

saint of God, then take to thee the whole armour of God; thou knowest the

pieces of it, and where the armoury is, and, having done all, stand!

4. And dost thou know, O Mansoul, that it is all to try thy love also?

Now, how, just how, do the remainders of sin in the regenerate try their

love? Why, surely, in this way. If we really loved sin at the deepest

bottom of our hearts, and only loved holiness on the surface, would we

not in our deepest hearts close with sin, give ourselves up to it, and

make no stand at all against it? Would we not in our deepest and most

secret hearts welcome it, and embrace it, look out for it with desire and

delight, and part with it with regret? But if, as a matter of fact, we

at our deepest and most hidden heart turn from sin, flee from it, fight

against it, rejoice when we are rid of it, and have horror at the return

of it,--what better proof than that could Christ and His angels have that

at bottom we are His and not the devil's? And that grace, at bottom, has

our hearts, and not sin; heaven, and not hell? The apostle's protesting

cry is our cry also; we also delight in the law of God after our most

inward man. For, after our saddest surprises into sin, after its worst

outbreaks and overthrows, such all the time were our reluctances,

recalcitrations, and resistances, that, swept away as we were, yet all

the time, and after it was again over, it was with some good conscience

that we said to Christ that He knew all things, and that He knew that we

loved Him.

'O benefit of ill! now I find true

That better is by evil still made better;

And ruined love, when it is built anew,

Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater,

So I return rebuked to my content,

And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.'

Yes; it is a sure and certain proof how truly we love our dearest friend,

that, after all our envy and ill-will, yet it is as true as that God is

in heaven that, all the time, maugre the devil of self that remains in

our heart,--after he has done his worst--we would still pluck out our

eyes for our friend and shed our blood. I have no better proof to myself

of the depth and the divineness of my love to my friend than just this,

that I still love him and love him more tenderly and loyally, after

having so treacherously hurt him. And my heavenly friends and my earthly

friends, if they will still have me, must both be content to go into the

same bundle both of my remaining enmity and my increasing love; my

remainders of sin, and my slow growth in regeneration. So when they had

dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me

more than these? He saith unto Him, Yea, Lord; Thou knowest that I love

Thee. He saith unto him again the second time, Simon, son of Jonas,

lovest thou Me? He saith unto Him, Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love

Thee. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou

Me? Peter was grieved because He said unto him the third time, Lovest

thou Me? And he said unto Him, Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou

knowest that I love Thee!

5. And, to sum up all--more than your humility, more than your

watchfulness, more than your prayerfulness, more than to teach you war,

and more than to try your love, the dregs and remainders of sin have been

left in your regenerate heart to exalt and to extol the grace of God. In

Emmanuel's very words, it has all been to make you a monument of God's

mercy. I put it to yourselves, then, ye people of God: does that not

satisfy you for a reason, and for an explanation, and for a justification

of all your shame and pain, and of all your bondage and misery and

wretchedness since you knew the Lord? Is there not a heart in you that

says, Yes! it was worth all my corruption and pollution and misery to

help to manifest forth and to magnify the glory of the grace of God? You

seize on Emmanuel's word that you are a monument of mercy. Somehow that

word pleases and reposes you. Yes, that is what out of all these post-

regeneration years you are. You would have been a monument to God's

mercy had you, like the thief on the cross, been glorified on the same

day on which you were first justified. But it will neither be the day of

your justification nor the day of your glorification that will make you

the greatest of all the monuments that shall ever be raised to the praise

of God's grace; it will be the days of your sanctification that will do

that. Paul was a blasphemer and a persecutor and injurious at his

conversion, but he had to be a lifetime in grace and an apostle above all

the twelve before he became the chiefest of sinners and the most wretched

of saints. And though your first forgiveness was, no doubt, a great

proof of the grace of God, yet it was nothing, nothing at all, to your

forgiveness to-day. You had no words for the wonder and the praise of

your forgiveness to-day. You just took to your lips the cup of salvation

and let that silent action speak aloud your monumental praise. You were

a sinner at your regeneration, else you would not have been regenerated.

But you were not then the chief of sinners. But now. Ah, now! Those

words, the chief of sinners, were but idle words in Paul's mouth. He did

not know what he was saying. For, what has horrified and offended other

men when it has been spoken with bated breath to them about envy, and

hate, and malice, and revenge, and suchlike remainders of hell, all that

has been a breath of life and hope to you. It has been to you as when

Christian, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, heard a voice in the

darkness which proved to him that there was another sinner at the mouth

of hell besides himself. There is no text that comes oftener to your

mind than this, that whoso hateth his brother is a murderer; and,

communicant as you are, you feel and you know and you are sure that there

are many men lying in lime waiting the day of judgment to whom it would

be more tolerable than for you were it not that you are to be at that day

the highest monument in heaven or earth to the redeeming, pardoning, and

saving grace of God. Yes, this is the name that shall be written on you;

this is the name that shall be read on you of all who shall see you in

heaven; this name that Emmanuel pronounced over Mansoul that day from His

ascending chariot-steps, a very Spectacle of wonder, and a very Monument

of the mercy and the grace of God.

Bunyan Characters (3rd Series) · 第 27 / 27 章