on a paper or garment, looks so much deeper, when the place you view it
in is lighter; at noon-day, and in the eye of the sun, those smaller
blemishes appear, which at other times are utterly unseen, and every
greater spot, every fouler stain, looks most odious and disagreeable.
Just thus it is with the soul, when it is displayed under the eye of the
Sun of Righteousness; every blemish, every defilement appears, and the
soul hates itself so far as it is sinful, while sin itself looks
infinitely more odious. Therefore Job says, ix. 30. _Should I wash
myself in snow-water, and make myself never so clean, thou wouldest
plunge me in the ditch, and my own clothes would abhor me_; that is,
“should I use all the methods of cleansing that are possible, and then
enter into thy immediate presence, that light of thy presence would
discover so many spots and defilements upon me, as if I had just plunged
myself in a ditch, and my garments had been all over defiled.”
[This sermon, if too long, maybe divided here.]
IV. At such a time there is a power and virtue enters into the soul,
coming from a present God, to resist sin, and to oppose great
temptation. “_I can do all things, if Christ be near to strengthen me_”,
says the apostle; Phil. iv. 13. When I was afflicted with the buffeting
of Satan, says the same apostle; 2 Cor. xii. 8, 9. for this I applied
myself to the mercy-seat, and I got near to the throne of grace; there I
pleaded with my God, and I received this answer from him; _My grace is
sufficient for thee_; then, says he, I could glory in infirmities, and
in persecutions for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong;
when I feel my own weakness, and see Almighty strength near me, and
engaged on my side, then I grow strong in courage, and with success
encounter my most powerful adversaries. I will not fear, says David,
though thousands have set themselves together against me, if thou art
with me, my strength and my rock: I will walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, and fear no evil; Psal. xxiii. 4. for thou art with me.
Divine courage and fortitude are increased abundantly by coming so near
to the throne of God.
There is a zeal for God enters into the soul at such a season, and the
soul is more desirous to lay out itself for the glory of God at such a
time. Moses had drawn near to God in the mount, and had been with him
forty days; when he came down from the mount, he beheld the people
filled with idolatry, and he brake the tables of stone in an impatience
of zeal; his zeal for God was so great, he hardly knew what he did, his
zeal for God was kindled high, because he had been so near to God, and
just conversing with him. So, Isaiah vi. 8. when that great saint had
been near to God, and had seen him in the glories of his holiness, and
had some courage and confidence in his love, “Now I will go, says he,
upon any difficult message; Here am I, send me, though it be to fulfil
the hardest service.” There will be generally all these attendants of
great nearness to God, _viz._ power against temptation, strength against
sin, zeal for the glory of God in the world; and ability to perform
difficult duties.
V. There will be a spiritual frame introduced into the heart and a
distance from all carnal things. “Stand by, saith the soul to all this
world, whilst I go to seek my God; but when I have found him, then the
world of itself, as to all the temporal concerns of it, vanishes and
goes out of sight. When I get so near to heaven, this earth is so small
a point, that it cannot be seen, and those comforts among the creatures,
that were fair as the moon, or bright as the larger stars, are vanished
and lost, and disappear under the brighter light of this Sun.” Created
beauties, with all their little glimmerings, tempt the soul toward them,
when God is absent; as a twinkling candle entices the silly fly at
midnight to hover about the rays of it; but the candle faints under the
broad beams of rising day-light; it has no power to attract those little
buzzing animals in the morning, and it is quite invisible at noon. So
the very approach of God makes creatures appear more contemptible and
worthless in the esteem of a devout christian; a God near at hand will
drive the creatures afar off; and a present God will command the world
to utter absence. None of the tempting vanities of life come in sight,
and sometimes not the most important concerns of it remain before the
eye of the saint, when God appears and fills the view and prospect of
his spirit. The soul is taken up with spiritual things, therefore carnal
ones vanish; it is entertained and filled with the majesty of God, the
riches of grace, redeeming grace; with the glory of Christ Jesus, the
beauty of his person, the honour of his characters, his various
excellencies, and the super-eminence of his offices, both in the
constitution and discharge of them; the soul is then warmed with a
zealous concern for the church of Christ, and big with the designs of
the honour of God, while it forgets the world.
Or at such a season as this, when we get near to God in prayer, if we
think of any of the creatures, it is all in order to the honour of God.
If I think of a brother, or father, or child, “O may they all be
instruments in thine hand, for thy honour here among men, and for ever
among blessed angels!” The soul does not ask for riches and glories on
earth for them: but, “May they live in thy sight, O Lord!” If it thinks
of the comforts of life, or the blessings of prosperity, “O let holiness
to the Lord be written upon them all; for I would not have one of them,
but what may subserve thine honour in the world.” If the soul thinks of
its pains, and sorrows, and reproaches, it longs for the sanctification
of them at present, and the removal of them in due season, that it may
serve its God the better. Thus the soul is, as it were, taken out of
self, when it gets near to God.
“Let me have the conveniences of life, (says the christian,) not so much
for my ease, as that I may better advance thine honour.” The soul grows
weaned from self at such a time; it breaks out of the narrow circle of
self, when it gets nigh to God. If it thinks of the ministry or of
ordinances, “Lord, let that ministry be for the advancement of thy name!
Lord, let these ordinances be for the increase of thy glory in the
world, for the advancement of grace in my heart, and bring me nearer to
heaven! If it thinks of the kingdom, or the parliament, powers or
princes in this world, it is with this design, that God may be glorified
in the courts of princes, and in parliaments, and honoured in armies and
nations known and unknown.” Thus the soul always keeps within sight of
God: it still keeps all its designs within the circle of God, and aims
still at the glories of its Heavenly Father. If it thinks of life or of
death, “I would not ask life, says the saint, but to glorify thee; nor
death, but to glorify thee better, and to enjoy more of thee.” Thus when
the soul is near to God, it is in a divine light that it sees all
things, it is still with a design for God; and when it indulges the
thoughts toward any creature, it is without turning aside a moment from
its God. Thus carnal things are taken into the mind, and spritualized by
the presence of God, the infinite Spirit, when the soul approaches so
near to his seat.
VI. There will then be a fixedness of heart in duty without wandering,
and liveliness without tiring. At other times of common and usual
worship, when the saint is in too formal and in too cold a frame, the
heart roves perpetually, and is soon weary; but when we get near to God,
then we have a little emblem of heaven within us, where they worship God
day and night without interruption, and without weariness. When we wait
upon God at this rate, we are still mounting up higher and higher, as
with eagles’ wings; we walk first without fainting, and then run without
wearying, at last, we fly as an eagle, and make haste to the fuller
possession of our God; Is. xl. 31. The soul is then detained in the
presence of God with overpowering delight, and it cannot be taken away
from the object of its dearest satisfaction. This is a joy above all
other joys, above all the joys of sense, above all the joys of the
intellectual world that are not divine and holy. There are some
pleasures that arise from philosophical and intellectual notions, that
are superior to the pleasures of sense; but the pleasure of being near
to God in devotion, far transcends all these. Animal nature, at such a
season, may be worn out, and faint and die under it; but the mind is not
weary. It is possible for divine transports to rise so high as to break
this feeble frame of flesh, and dissolve it; and there have been
instances of persons that have been near to a dissolution of mortality
under the power of divine ecstacies: but the soul has not been faint,
has felt no weariness.
There are at such a season most pleasurable thoughts of heaven; there
are some bright glimpses of that blessed state when a christian attains
this nearness to God; for heaven is a state of nearness to God
everlasting and uninterrupted: nor are the blessed inhabitants of that
world ever weary of their company or their business; and thus, when
there is any thing akin to heaven brought down to the saints in this
mortal state, they know it cannot be uninterrupted and perpetual; and
therefore there is a desire of frequent returns of such seasons as these
are, while they are here on earth. And as Christ, the bridegroom, speaks
to his saints in the language of Solomon, _Let me see thy face_ often,
_my spouse, my beloved, let me hear thy voice_; Song ii. 44. and viii.
13. So the saint says to his God at such a season, “O may I often see
thy face in this manner, may I often hear such a voice as this is from
thee, for I know not how to live without it. Flee, my beloved Saviour,
and make haste to a speedy return, and let there be an uninterrupted and
everlasting converse between God and my soul.”
Lastly, There is at such a season oftentimes a pouring out of the soul
before God with some freedom in the gift, as well as the grace of
prayer. Mere sighs and groans are for persons at a distance; but when we
get near to God, we speak to him even in his ear; and the heart is full,
and the tongue overflows. I grant there may be the spirit of prayer
assisting a poor soul that cannot get near to God, but still cries after
him when he is hidden, and expresses itself only in sighs and in groans
unutterable; so the apostle tells us; Rom. viii. 26. _The spirit itself
maketh intercession in us with groanings that cannot be uttered._ And
thus it may be, while God hides himself, while there is a veil
concealing God from our eyes, while there is any special temptation like
a mountain that separates between God and our souls, he may send his
Spirit to work us up to earnest desires and longings after him.
But when this SPIRIT OF PRAYER has brought the soul near, when God has
been pleased to turn aside the veil, to remove the mountain, and to
discover himself in all his glory, beauty, and love, then there will be
generally the gift of prayer also in exercise by the assistance of the
promised Spirit; and such persons many times are able to address
themselves to God with much freedom, and to pour out the soul before God
in proper words, notwithstanding at other times they appear to have but
weak capacities. When they have such affecting sights of their own sin
and guilt, and such surprizing views of the mercy of God manifested to
them in particular, and at the same time when they look upon all things
round them with a design for the glory of God; they are both naturally
and divinely taught to pour out their souls before God, and represent
their cares and circumstances to him in affecting language.
I will not say indeed, it is always so when any soul gets near to God;
there must be some allowance made for the different tempers and
constitutions, as I shall shew immediately. There have also been some
instances of holy men, whose voice has, at such a time, been overpowered
with divine pleasure, all their powers have been transported and
overwhelmed with rapturous silence; but for the most part holy souls
have found an uncommon liberty of language at the throne of grace at
such seasons. And this is one reason, I am persuaded, why the gift of
prayer is not so common a thing as might be wished, because there is so
little nearness to God among the professors of our day. The gift of
prayer abounds not among christians in our churches; O that I could say
it was found more gloriously among ministers, while in your name we
speak to the great God! But if there were a constant laborious diligence
in the soul to get nearer to God, in all our secret as well as public
addresses to him, we should find more abundance of the gift of prayer
poured down upon us by the Spirit, as well as brighter evidences of
every praying grace.
I must conclude this discourse before I proceed to the other heads which
were proposed; but I would not willingly leave it without a caution or
two, and one reflection. The first caution is this: Let not the humble
mourning christian, who walks carefully with God, under much darkness
and fear, charge himself with utter distance and estrangement from the
throne of grace, because he does not feel all these sacred passions and
powers of nature in lively exercise, while he bows his knees before the
Lord: for I have described this blessed privilege in the sublime glory
and beauty of it, so as it has been often attained and enjoyed by
persons eminent in grace and religion, and especially such as have had
lively affections, and the powers of animal nature in a good degree
sanctified, and subservient to the devotions of the soul. But where the
natural spirits are low and sinking, and where temptations and darkness
hang heavy upon the mind, the christian may truly draw near to God, so
far as to find a gracious acceptance with him, and may fetch secret
divine communications from the mercy-seat to maintain his spiritual
life; though he feels but little of these sensations of heavenly
pleasure, these more vigorous efforts of devotions and joy. Yet let him
neither deny nor despise those more elevated enjoyments of soul, those
near and blessed approaches to the seat of God, with which others have
been favoured.
The second caution shall be addressed to those, who feel much of rapture
and transport in their hours of secret piety. I entreat that they would
not imagine themselves so often to enjoy this unspeakable privilege of
holy nearness to God in worship, if they do not sensibly find such an
increase of holiness, as may prove effectually that they have been with
God. If they have been conversing with their Maker, like Moses on the
mount, there will be a shine of holiness upon the face of their souls.
To pretend therefore to have enjoyed much of God in the closet, and to
come down amongst men peevish and fretful, or immediately to betray a
carnal and covetous, or a haughty and untractable spirit; these are
things of so inconsistent a nature, that the succeeding iniquity spoils
the devotion, and almost destroys the pretence to any sublime degrees of
it. Such persons had need look well to themselves and make a narrow
search within, whether their hearts be sincere with God or no, lest they
build all their hopes upon the flashy efforts of animal nature, coupled
with the thoughts of some sacred objects, and tacked on to a divine
meditation.
Reflection.—What a wretched hindrance is this world to our christian
profit and pleasure! How often does it keep the soul at a sad distance
from God! With what difficulty and uneasy reluctance, are we sometimes
drawn, or rather dragged into retirement, that the soul may seek after
God there? How many excuses doth the flesh borrow from the cares and
necessities of this life, to delay, or to divert the duty of prayer? Our
memory, our imagination, and our senses, are faithful purveyors and
treasurers for the world; they are representing to us the things of this
present state, the trifles or the businesses, the cares or amusements of
it, the labours or delights which relate to this life; and thereby we
are diverted and separated from God, and called away from him often, as
soon as we begin to approach his presence.
What a pernicious enemy is this flesh to the soul, both in the pleasures
and the pains of it! and this world, both in the flatteries and the
frowns of it, and even in its necessary cares! When we would give our
God the upper-room in our hearts, how is this world ready to get the
ascendant! How often does it break in upon our most sacred retirements,
and thrust itself, with all its impertinencies, into our holy
meditations? How often does it spread a carnal scene all over our
thoughts at once, and spoil our devoutest hours? “I cannot dwell so long
in my closet as I would, says a christian, the world has such
importunate demands upon me.” The world follows us, into our places of
retirement; the exchange, or the shop, presses into the temple, and robs
God even to his face.
Let us then have a care of the flesh: let us have a care of this world;
we must be watchful over them as our most subtle and dangerous enemies,
if we would keep our souls near to God, or often enjoy this divine
privilege. Blessed Enoch! who could walk with God in the midst of all
the busy and vicious scenes of the old world! and he was translated to
heaven, without calling at the gates of death, that he might give a
glorious testimony to men how well God was pleased with him. Happy soul!
that could keep near to God, and maintain a holy and humble converse
with him, when all flesh had corrupted its way and the earth was full of
iniquity and violence! Blessed man, who knew not what it was to die, but
he knew what it was to be near to God; and his faith and his devotion
were changed the shortest way into sight and enjoyment! Happy spirit!
who without being absent at all from the body, was brought near to the
seat of divine Majesty, and in the fullest manner present with the Lord!
HYMN FOR SERMON V.
_The Soul drawing near to God in prayer._
My God, I bow before thy feet,
When shall my soul get near thy seat?
When shall I see thy glorious face,
With mingled majesty and grace?
How shall I love thee and adore,
With hopes and joys unknown before!
And bid this trifling world begone,
Nor teaze my heart so near thy throne!
Creatures with all their charms should fly,
The presence of a God so nigh:
My darling sins should lose their name,
And grow my hatred and my shame.
My soul shall pour out all her cares,
In flowing words, or flowing tears!
Thy smiles would ease my sharpest pain
Nor should I seek my God in vain.
SERMON VI.
_Sins and Sorrows spread before God._
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 SECOND PART.
There is such a thing as converse with God in prayer, and it is the life
and pleasure of a pious soul; without it we are no christians: and he
that practises it most, is the best follower of Christ: for our Lord
spent much time in converse with his heavenly Father. This is balm that
eases the most raging pains of the mind, when the wounded conscience
comes to the mercy-seat, and finds pardon and peace there. This is the
cordial that revives and exalts our natures, when the spirit, broken
with sorrows, and almost fainting to death, draws near to the Almighty
Physician, and is healed and refreshed. The mercy-seat in heaven is our
surest and sweetest refuge in every hour of distress and darkness on
earth: This is our daily support and relief, while we are passing
through a world of temptations and hardships in the way to the promised
land. _It is good for us to draw near to God_: Ps. lxxiii. 28. And yet
so much is human nature sunk down and fallen from God, that even his own
children are ready to indulge a neglect of converse with him, if their
souls are not always upon the watch. But let it be remembered here, that
so much as we abate of this divine entertainment among the vanities or
amusements of the world, the business or burdens of life; so much we
lose of the glory and joy of religion, and deprive our souls of the
comfort that God invites us to receive. Job was encompassed with sorrows
all around, and his friends had censured him as a vile hypocrite, and a
great sinner, because he was so terribly afflicted by the hand of God;
whither should he run now but to his heavenly Father, and tell him of
all his sufferings.
From the practice of this holy man, I thought we might have sufficient
warrant to draw this inference, _viz._ That when a saint gets near to
God in prayer, he tells him all his circumstances, and pleads for help.
And that is the doctrine which I am endeavouring now to improve. “O if I
could but come near him, even to his seat, I would order my cause before
him: I would spread all my concerns before his eye, and I would plead
with him for relief: I would fill my mouth with arguments.”
Four things I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine.—I. To
consider what it is for a soul to get near to God in prayer.—II. What
particular subjects doth a soul, thus brought near to the mercy-seat,
converse with God about.—III. Why he chuses to tell all his
circumstances and his sorrows to God, when he is thus near him.—IV. How
he pleads for relief.
I. We have already considered, what it is for a soul to get near to the
seat of God, and what are the usual attendants of such a privilege. At
such a season the holy soul will have an awful and adoring sense of the
majesty of God, a becoming fear of his terrors, and some sweeter taste
of his love. There will be a divine hatred of every sin, and a sensible
virtue and influence proceeding from a present God, to resist every
temptation; there will be a spiritual and heavenly temper diffusing
itself through the whole soul, and all the powers of it; a fixedness of
heart without wandering, and a liveliness without tiring: no weariness
is felt in the spirit at such a season, even though the flesh may be
ready to faint under the overpowering sweetness: then the soul with
freedom opens itself before the eye of God, and melts and flows in
divine language, whether it complain or rejoice. But I have finished
this head, and repeat no more.
II. What are some of the particular circumstances, or subjects of
complaint, that a saint brings to God when he comes near him.
In general, a saint, when he is near to God, has all the fulness of his
heart breaking out into holy language; he pours out his whole self
before his God and his Father! All the infinite affairs that relate to
the flesh and spirit, to this life, and that which is to come: all
things in heaven, and all things in earth, created or uncreated, may, at
one time or other, be the subjects of converse between God and a holy
soul. When the question is asked by a carnal man, what can a christian
talk with God so long and so often about? The christian in a divine
frame, answers, “he hath matter enough for converse with God, to wear
out time, and to fill up eternity.” It may be as well asked on the other
side, what has he not to say? what is there that relates to God, or to
himself, to the upper, or the lower world, that he may not at some time
say to his God?
But I must confine myself from wandering in so large a field, that I may
comport with the design of my text. Though a good man, in devout prayer,
often spreads his hopes and his joys before the Lord, as well as his
sorrows, fears, and distresses; yet I shall at present endeavour to set
forth only the mournful and complaining representations of his
circumstances that he makes before the throne of God.
1. If I could but come near the mercy-seat, I would confess how great my
sins are, and I would pray for pardoning grace. I would say, “How vile I
am by nature;” I would count my original descent from Adam the great
transgressor, and humble myself at the foot of a holy God, because I am
the descendant of such a sinner.—I would tell him how much viler I have
made myself by practice; “I have been an enemy in my mind by nature, and
guilty of many wicked works, whereby I have farther estranged myself
from him.” I would tell my God how multiplied my transgressions have
been before I knew him, and how aggravated they have been since I have
been acquainted with him. I would acquaint him with the frequency of my
returning guilt, how I have sinned against mercies, against reproofs,
against warnings received often from his word, and often from his
providence.