us from this sinful flesh; when we shall serve God in spirit without a
clog, without a tempter! O with what a relish of sacred pleasure should
a saint read those words in 2 Cor. v. 8. _Absent from the body, and
present with the Lord_; Absent from this traitor, this vexing enemy,
that we constantly carry about with us! Absent from the clog and chain
of this sinful flesh, the prison wherein we are kept in darkness, and
are confined from God! Absent from these eyes that have drawn our souls
afar from God by various temptations? and absent from these ears by
which we have been allured to transgression and defiling iniquities!
Absent from those lusts and passions, from that fear and that hope, that
pleasure and that pain, that love, that desire, and that anger, which
are all carnal, and seated in the fleshly nature, and become the spring
and occasion of so much sin to our souls in this state. _Absent from the
body, and present with the Lord_: Methinks there is a heaven contained
in the first part of these words, _absent from the body_; and a double
happiness in the last, _present with the Lord_: present with him who
hath saved our spirits through all the days of our christian conflict,
and _hath given us the_ final _victory_: Present with that God, who
shall eternally influence us to all holiness, who shall forever shine
upon us with his own beams, and make us conformable to his own holy
image: Present with that Lord and Saviour, from whom it shall not be in
the power of all creatures to divert or draw us aside.
It is by our flesh in this world that we are a-kin to so many
temptations, a-kin to all the objects that stand around us, to tempt us
from our God; and we are ready to cry out, “O the blessed angels that
were never a-kin to the flesh! O those blessed spirits, who move swift
as flames to execute the will of their God, without the incumberance of
flesh, without being allured by that most powerful and successful
tempter! Happy beings! they know not our toils; they feel them not; they
are all spirit; they are all holy! O the blessed saints in glory, that
are released from their flesh, which once they had so many, and so sore
combats with! Their flesh, which heretofore prisoned them, and pained
them, and drew them often away from God, contrary to that heavenly bias
that was put upon their souls by God the Sanctifier!”
But we rejoice in hope that our turn shall come too. There is a day of
deliverance from this sinful flesh provided for us. All our times are in
the hand of God; and the best time, is the time of release from this
sinful companion. Let our faith say, “I read in the promises that this
same happiness belongs to me, which the saints above are now possessed
of: It is coming, it is coming as fast as time and the heavens can move,
as fast as days and hours can remove out of the way.” Then we shall have
no flesh for the world to lodge one temptation in, nor for Satan to make
use of as an engine of his malice, to batter the constancy and duty of
our souls; then we shall be freed from all those methods of injury to
our spirits, which we receive now by means of the flesh.
Thus at the day of our death is derived a glorious liberty, and thence
we date our joys; but our joys rise high indeed, if our faith can but
look a little farther, and take a prospect of that day, when our flesh
shall be raised in perfect holiness, and our spirits completely holy,
shall be rejoined to it; then it shall be no more, true, that flesh and
spirit lust against each other, and these two are contrary; for flesh
and spirit shall both draw one way, both lead us towards our divine
original, and the first Father of our minds, shall concur together to
influence us to perfect holiness; then, when our spirits shall be like
God, the first and best of Spirits; and when our flesh shall be like the
flesh of the Son of God, that great pattern of a glorified body.
And this day will surely come, for our Redeemer with his body is
glorified in heaven, and he sits there as a pattern of our bodies to be
glorified, and a pledge to assure us of it too. O come the day when he
shall change these bodies of our vileness into the form of the body of
his glory! and he can easily do it, by that power whereby he can subdue
all things to himself; Phil. iii. 21. Then shall our flesh and our
spirit join sweetly together and each of them fulfil and enjoy their
part, in the business and blessedness provided for them in regions of
unknown pleasure. _Amen._
HYMN FOR SERMON IV.
_Flesh and Spirit; or, the Principles of Sin and Holiness._
What vain desires, and passions vain,
Attend this mortal clay!
Oft have they pierc’d my soul with pain,
And drawn my heart astray.
How have I wander’d from my God,
And following sin and shame,
In this vile world of flesh and blood
Defil’d my nobler frame!
For ever blessed be thy grace
That form’d my spirit new,
And made it of an heaven-born race,
Thy glory to pursue.
My spirit holds perpetual war,
And wrestles and complains,
And views the happy moment near,
That shall dissolve its chains.
Cheerful in death I close my eyes,
To part with ev’ry lust,
And charge my flesh whene’er it rise,
To leave them in the dust.
How would my purer spirit fear
To put this body on,
If its old tempting powers were there,
Nor lusts, nor passions gone!
SERMON V.
_The Soul drawing near to God in prayer._
JOB xxiii. 3, 4.—O that I knew where I might find him: that I might come
even to his seat; I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth
with arguments.
THE FIRST PART.
This book of Job might, perhaps, be the first and earliest part of all
the written word of God; for learned men, upon good ground, suppose that
this history was elder than the days of Moses, and yet it hath many a
sweet lessen of experimental religion in it, to teach the disciples of
Christ; we may learn many duties and comforts from it in our day, _upon
whom the ends of the world are come_. The style of it in some parts is
so magnificent and solemn, in others so tender and affectionate, that we
must feel something of devout passion when we read this history, if our
hearts are but in a serious frame, and if our temper or circumstances of
mind or body have any thing a-kin to the grief or piety of this good
man.
Job had now heard long stories of accusation from his friends while he
was bowed down, and groaning under the heavy providences of God; they
_persecuted him whom God had smitten_, and poured in fresh sorrows upon
all his wounds. I will turn aside, saith he, from man, for _miserable
comforters are ye all_; and I will address myself to God, even to the
God that smites me. _O that knew where I might find him!_ The stroke of
the father doth not make the child fly from him, but come nearer, and
bow himself before his best friend: this is the filial temper of the
children of God. “_My complaint is bitter_, (saith Job, ver. 2.) because
of my sorrows from the hand of God, and from the accusations and
reproaches of my friends; you may think I am too lavish in my
complainings and my continual cries, but I feel more than I complain
of.” And therefore Job is set up as a pattern of patience; for he could
say, my stroke is heavier than my groaning.
There are some of the children of God who give themselves up to a
perpetual habit of complaints and groans, though no trial hath befallen
them but what is common to men; they make all around them sensible of
every lesser pain they feel, and being always uneasy in themselves, they
take the kindest and gentlest admonition for an accusation; and while
they imagine themselves in the case of Job, they resent highly every
real or suspected injury: in short, they make a great part of their own
sorrows themselves, and then they cry out and complain; and among their
dismal complainings, they often, without reason, assume the words of Job
as their own, and say, _my stroke is heavier than my groaning_. In some
persons this is the temper of their natures, and in others a mere
distemper of the body; but both ought to watch against it, and resist
it, because it appears so much like sinful impatience and fretfulness,
that it cannot be indulged without sin.
There are others, whose real afflictions are dreadful indeed, and
uncommon, who seem to tire all their friends with their complaints too;
but, it may be, if we knew all their variety of sorrows, and could take
an intimate view of every outward and inward wound, we should
acknowledge their stroke was heavier than their groaning; and especially
when God is in such a measure absent from them too, that they are at a
loss, as Job was, how they should come at him or converse with the
heavenly Father: then their souls break out into vehement desires, _O
that I knew where I might find him!_
A child of God who is wont to maintain a constant and humble
correspondence with heaven, does often receive such sensible influences
of instruction and comfort from the throne of grace, that he is led on
sweetly in the path of daily duty, by the guiding providences of God,
and by the secret directions of his Holy Spirit. He finds divine
pleasure in his morning addresses to the mercy-seat, and returns to the
throne in the evening with joy in his heart, and praise upon his tongue.
He has something to do with the great God, in a way of humble devotion,
in all his important concerns; but if God retire and withdraw from him,
he feels and bemoans the divine absence, and his heart meditates grief
and complaints; and when at the same time he is pressed with other
burdens too, he breathes after God with a sacred impatience, and longs
to know where he may find him: then says the soul, “_O if I could but
come near to the seat of God, in my addresses to him, I would order my
cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments._” This brings me to
the doctrine, which shall be the subject of my discourse.
Observation. When a christian gets near the seat of God in prayer, he
tells him all his sorrows, and pleads with him for relief.
In discoursing on this doctrine I shall consider four things.—I. How may
we know when a soul gets near to God in prayer; or what is to get near
the seat of God.—II. What are the particular subjects of holy converse
between God and the soul.—III. Why such a soul tells God all his
sorrows.—IV. How he pleads with God for relief.
_First_, How may we know when a soul gets near the seat of God in
prayer?
I answer, there will be some or all these attendants of nearness to God.
I. There will be an inward sense of the several glories of God, and
suitable exercises of grace in the soul. For when we get near to God, we
see him, we are in his presence; he is then, as it were, before the eyes
of the soul, even as the soul is at all times before the eyes of God.
There will be something of such a spiritual sense of the presence of
God, as we shall have when our souls are dismissed from the prison of
this flesh, and see him face to face, though in a far less degree: It is
something that resembles the future vision of God in the blessed world
of spirits; and those souls who have had much intimacy with God in
prayer, will tell you that they know, in some measure, what heaven is.
The soul, when it gets near to God, even to his seat beholds several of
his glories displayed there; for it is a seat of majesty, a seat of
judgment, and a seat of mercy. Under these three characters is the seat
of God distinguished in scripture; and because this word is part of my
text, I shall therefore a little enlarge upon these heads.
When the soul gets near to God, it sees him,
1. As upon a seat of majesty. There he appears to the soul in the first
notion of his divinity or godhead, as self-sufficient, and the first of
beings: He appears there as the infinite ocean, the unmeasurable
fountain of being, and perfection, and blessedness; and the soul, in a
due exercise of grace, shrinks, as it were, into nothing before him, as
a drop, or a dust, a mere atom of being. The soul is in its own eyes at
that time, what it is always in the eyes of God, as nothing, and less
than nothing and vanity. He appears then in the glory of his
all-sufficience, as an almighty Creator, giving birth, and life, and
being to all things; and the soul, in a due exercise of grace, stands
before him as a dependant creature, receiving all its powers and being
from him, supported every moment by him, and ready to sink into utter
nothing, if God withdraw that support. Such is God, and such is the
soul, when the soul draws near to God in worship.
He appears again upon his seat of majesty as a sovereign, in the glory
of his infinite supremacy, and the soul sees him as the supreme of
beings, owns his just sovereignty, and subjects itself afresh, and for
ever to his high dominion. O with what deep humility and self-abasement
doth the saint, considered merely as a creature, cast himself down at
the foot of God, when he comes near to the seat of his majesty!
_Behold_, saith Abraham, _I now have taken upon me to speak unto thee, I
who am but dust and ashes_; Gen. xviii. 27. This is the language of a
saint when got near to the seat of the majesty of God, “Before I had
seen thee as such a sovereign, I was restive and stubborn: in times past
I quarrelled with God because of difficult duties imposed upon me, and
because of the difficult dispensations I was made to pass through; but
now I behold God so infinitely my superior, that I can quarrel no more
with any duty, or any difficulty; I submit to all his will: whatsoever
he will have me be, that I am; whatsoever he bids me do, that I do; for
it is fit he should be a sovereign, and I should be a subject. I give
myself to him afresh, and for ever, that he may dispose of me according
to his own will and for his own glory: I would be more regardless of
myself, and more regardful of my God; it is fit he should be the
ultimate end of all that I can be, and all that I can do, for he is my
sovereign.”
Again, when a soul is near to God, God appears in the glory of his
holiness; for the seat of his majesty is called the throne of his
holiness; Ps. xlvii. 8. And then the heavens are not clean in his sight:
and the soul cries out with those worshipping seraphims, _Holy, holy,
holy, is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory_: and
joins with Isaiah, the worshipping saint, in that humble language, _who
is me, for I am a man of unclean lips, &c._ You see the character of a
saint getting near to God, and standing before the seat of his majesty;
Is. vi. 3, 4. where the angels and the prophet worship together with the
deepest humility. “I have heard of thy holiness before, says the soul,
and I have heard before of thy glory afar off; but now _mine eyes see
it, and I abhor myself in dust and ashes_”; Job xliii. 6.
2. His seat is to be considered as a seat of judgment; for God is not
only a king, but a judge: and Job has, without doubt, a reference to
this in my text, because the language which he uses, seems suited to a
throne of judicature, a throne of justice. “If I could get near his
seat, I would order my cause before him, I would plead with him.” The
soul that gets near to God, sees him sitting upon a seat of judgment, as
an omniscient God: he looks like the judge of all the earth, and his
eyes are like a flame of fire to search our souls to the centre, and to
know our most hidden thoughts: the soul then attempts no more to conceal
itself, no more to hide its guilt or its wretchedness; for it beholds
those eyes of God that see through all things, that search into the
deepest hypocrisy, and it is impossible that any thing should be
concealed from him. “Behold I am before that God, says the soul, before
whom nothing can be hid; before whom all things are naked and open; and
it is with him that I have to do; therefore I open my heart before him,
and I spread open all my inward powers, for he sees and knows them all,
should I attempt to conceal them.” “I behold him in his infinite and
inflexible justice, as well as in his all-seeing knowledge; and I cry
out, _If thou, O Lord, shouldest mark iniquity, O Lord who should
stand?_” Ps. cxxx. 4. This is the language of the holiest saint getting
near to God here on earth, as seated upon a seat of judgment.
The soul beholds him also as girt with resistless power to execute his
own laws; and the thunder of his power, says Job who can understand?
xxvi. 14. He has armies of angels, ministers of fire, attendants on his
tribunal, and swift to execute the sentence of his mouth. The saint sees
him thus invested, thus surrounded, and adores and fears before him. The
soul beholds him with rewards in one hand, and punishments in the other;
infinite rewards, and infinite punishments; distributing to the unseen
world perpetual blessedness, and perpetual pains. “I behold him arrayed
in this glory, saith the saint, I expect my sentence from his lips, from
whence eternal blessings, and eternal curses, are dispensed to all the
regions of heaven and hell; but he will not plead against me with his
great power; the sentence that comes forth from his mouth, I trust,
shall be on my side.”
3. He appears as sitting upon a throne of grace. The majesty and
judgment that belong to his seat, do not forbid mercy to attend him; he
sits upon a seat of mercy, and _there_, says Job, _the righteous might
surety dispute with him_; xxiii. 7. and there I should be delivered from
his terrors as an avenging God; there, though he judge me, yet he will
plead my cause; for the same Judge that sits upon a throne of glory, has
taken upon him to become my Advocate. “There I behold him, says the
soul, with millions of pardons for vile transgressors, and with abundant
favour for rebels; such a rebel am I, and such a transgressor, and yet
there is pardon and grace for me. I behold there riches and raiment for
the poor, the needy, and the naked, and help for the weak believer.”
There goodness appears in the face of God, in all the sweet variety of
its divine forms. There appears long-suffering for old sinners, and
patience for repeated guilt, and pity for the miserable, and free grace
for those that deserve nothing but vengeance. All this discovers itself
in the face of God, to a soul that gets near him, even to his
mercy-seat; and the soul bows, and wonders, and worships, and makes
still nearer approaches, and receives the grace, and rejoices in the
salvation.
The soul puts in for a share in this mercy with faith and hope, and will
not be denied, will not be excluded; then he uses that holy boldness,
that παρρησια, or liberty of speech; Heb. iv. 16. And this is the
language of faith, when the soul gets near to God: “Since there are so
many millions of pardons with thee for sinners, I will not go away
without one; since there is such a righteousness as that of thine own
Son to clothe the naked, I will not go away without being clothed with
this righteousness; since there are such supplies of strength for the
weak, I will not leave thy seat till I get some strength.” The soul then
wrestles and pleads, and makes supplication as Jacob did when he came
near to God; Gen. xxxii. 22. _I will not let thee go, except thou bless
me._ The soul beholds in God mercy enough for the largest multitude of
sinners, and pardons large enough for the blackest offences; it sees
Paul the persecutor and blasphemer so near to the right-hand of God in
glory, that it cries out with a joyful faith, “All the aggravations of
my guilt shall no more divide me from the mercy-seat, shall no more
prevent my hope and help in God; for there sits Paul the persecutor and
blasphemer; and he was set forth as an example how full God is of
mercy!” 1 Tim. i. 16. _I obtained mercy, that in me first Christ Jesus
might shew all long-suffering, for a pattern to believers._ This is the
temper, this is the voice, and this is the language of a soul that gets
near to God, even to his seat, considered as a seat of majesty, of
judgment, and of grace.
I proceed now to the second sign or attendant of holy nearness to God in
prayer.
II. When a soul comes near to God in prayer, there will generally be
some sweet taste of the special love of God, and warm returns of love
again to God from the soul. The soul that comes near to God is not
satisfied merely with low degrees of faith and hope, with some feeble
dependance, and some faint expectations of mercy; it can hardly leave
God till it has an assurance. Faith and hope in the mercy of God, are
different from that joy that arises from the immediate sensations of
divine love. The Psalmist in the lxiii. _Psalm_, ver. 1, 2, &c. seems to
have a reference to both these particulars together, which I have
already mentioned. _My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for
thee—to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the
sanctuary._ “I have seen thee in the sanctuary as sitting upon a throne
of majesty, on a seat of judgment and of grace; I have seen thy power
and thy glory there, and I have seen something more than this, I have
tasted some special-loving-kindness, and that loving-kindness is better
than life, therefore my lips shall praise thee. I have had a sense of
the special love of God shed abroad in my soul, I have known his love is
exercised toward me, therefore my soul is full of praise.” God will
seldom let a soul that is got so near him by holy labour and fervency of
spirit, go away merely with hope and dependance, without some sacred
delight and joy.
A saint that has drawn near to God in worship, will tell you his own
rich experience, and say, “When I found him whom my soul loveth, I was
constrained to break forth into these sweet expressions, I am my
beloved’s and my beloved is mine: for I love him above all things, and
my love is but the effect of his. In that blessed hour I felt, and I was
assured of that mutual relation between God and me: I found so much of
his image stamped on me, that I knew I was the Lord’s: whence I rejoice
in the full persuasion of his love. I know he loves me, for his
sanctifying Spirit hath witnessed with my spirit, that I am one of his
children; and I know that I love him, for my spirit witnesseth also as
an echo to his Spirit, that I have chosen him for my Father, my Ruler,
and my God, and have surrendered myself to him on his own terms; and I
address him as my Father, with words of the choicest affection, and of
most endeared sentiments of soul.”
When a person in whom grace is wrought, gets so near to God, and sees
this God in his own loveliness, and in his kindest perfections, there
are some new divine passions kindled in the soul towards this God,
towards this first beauty, towards this original of all perfection and
goodness; and God will seldom let one come so near him, without shewing
him the love of his heart; and the name of the devout worshipper graven,
as it were, on the palms of his hands, or in the book of his mercy. He
speaks to the soul in his own divine language, “Son, or daughter, be of
good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee. O man, thou art greatly beloved.
I am your God, and you are my people. I have bought thee dear, and thou
art mine. I have created thee, O Jacob; I have formed thee, O Israel; I
have redeemed thee, O believer, and thou art for ever mine.” And such
discoveries of the love of God to the soul, draw out still more love
from the soul towards God, and raise more sacred exercises of divine
love in one hour, than a whole year of common devotions can do; and the
saint learns more of this sacred sensation of the love of God, than
years of cold and common devotions would teach him.
III. When the soul gets near to God in prayer, there will be a hatred of
sin at the very thoughts of it, and holy meltings and mournings under
the remembrance of its own sins. “How hateful does sin appear, will the
soul say, now I am come so near to the seat of a Holy God! Never did I
see sin in so dark and so odious colours, as this hour reveals and
discovers to me; never did I so sensibly behold the abomination that is
in all sin, as now I do; I never saw it so contrary to all that is in
God, to his holiness, to his glory, to his justice, and to his grace. O
wretch that I am, that I should ever have indulged iniquity! that I
should ever have borne with such an infinite evil in my heart? that I
should ever take delight in such mischief against God! Now I hate and
abhor myself because of sin. O that my head were waters, and my eyes a
fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night, because I have been
such a sinner so long, and because I am so much a sinner still!” The
heart of a saint that comes near to God, is pained at the memory of old
sins; and together with a present sweetness of divine love, there is a
sort of anguish at the thoughts of past iniquities. A present God will
make past sins look dreadful and heinous; therefore it is that sin looks
so little to us, and appears so light a thing, because we seldom get
near to the seat of God, and bring our iniquities to that divine light.