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Building air-castle upon air-castle!
(John
MacDuff, "Thoughts for the Quiet Hour",
1895)
He who goes about whining all day long about some
imaginary drawbacks in the sphere which Providence
has assigned him—when all the while he is situated
so much better than thousands around—is
a suicide
of his own happiness! He is also impeaching the
faithfulness of the Supreme Ordainer and Disposer.
One half of life's enjoyment is eaten out by this sinful
craving after what cannot be obtained—the
desire for
something supposed to be better. Yes, but when "the
better" is reached, there is the yearning for an imagined
"better" still. This is building air-castle upon
air-castle!
If in these days there be one household demon more
than another which needs to be exorcized—it is
the
demon of discontent!
Oh, for the spirit of Paul—poor and lonely prisoner in
Rome as he was—an apparent bankrupt in all that the
world deems wealth and affluence—yet who could make
this entry in his letter to his Philippian friends—"I have
learned to be content whatever the circumstances.
At the moment I have all I need—more than I need!"
Dead and dark seasons
(J. C. Philpot, "REVIEWS")
All Christians, even the most eminent servants
of God, have their dead and dark seasons—when
the life of God seems sunk to so low an ebb as to
be hardly visible—so hidden is the stream by the
mud-banks of their fallen nature.
By these very dark and dead seasons, the
people
of God are instructed. They see and feel what 'the
flesh' really is—how alienated from the life of God;
they learn in whom all their strength and sufficiency
lie; they are taught that in them, that is, in their flesh,
dwells no good thing; that no exertions of their own
can maintain in strength and vigor the life of God; and
that all they are, and have—all they believe, know, feel,
and enjoy—with all their ability, usefulness, gifts, and
grace—flow from the pure, sovereign grace—the rich, free,
undeserved, yet unceasing goodness and mercy of God!
They learn in this hard school of painful experience, their
emptiness and nothingness—and that without Christ they
can do nothing. They thus become clothed with humility,
that rare, yet lovely garb; cease from their own strength
and wisdom; and learn experimentally that Christ is, and
ever must be, all in all to them, and all in all in them.
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At the cross
(J. C. Philpot, "Contemplations
& Reflections")
Standing at the cross of our adorable Lord,
we see . . .
the law thoroughly fulfilled,
its curse fully endured,
its penalties wholly removed,
sin eternally put away,
the justice of God amply satisfied,
all His perfections gloriously harmonized,
His holy will perfectly obeyed,
reconciliation completely effected,
redemption graciously accomplished,
and the church everlastingly saved!
At the cross we see . . .
sin in its blackest colors, and
holiness in its fairest beauties.
At the cross we see . . .
the love of God in its tenderest form, and
the anger of God in its deepest expression.
At the cross we see the blessed Redeemer
lifted up,
as it were between heaven and earth, to show to
angels and to men the spectacle of redeeming love,
and to declare at one and the same moment, and by
one and the same act of the suffering obedience and
bleeding sacrifice of the Son of God—the eternal and
unalterable displeasure of the Almighty against sin,
and the rigid demands of His inflexible justice, and
yet the tender compassion and boundless love of His
heart to the elect.
At the cross, and here alone, are obtained
pardon
and peace.
At the cross, and here alone, penitential
grief
and godly sorrow flow from heart and eyes.
At the cross, and here alone, is . . .
sin subdued and mortified,
holiness communicated,
death vanquished,
Satan put to flight, and
happiness and heaven begun in the soul.
O what heavenly blessings, what present grace, as
well as what future glory, flow through the cross!
What a holy meeting-place for repenting sinners and
a sin-pardoning God! What a healing-place for guilty,
yet repenting and returning backsliders! What a door
of hope in the valley of Achor for the self-condemned
and self-abhorred! What a blessed resting-place for the
whole family of God in this valley of grief and sorrow!
By C.H. Spurgeon
B
Y “the sons of Jacob” are meant persons who enjoy peculiar rights and titles. Jacob had no rights by birth; but he soon acquired them. He changed a mess of pottage with his brother Esau, and thus gained the birthright. I do not justify the means; but he did also obtain the blessing, and so acquired peculiar rights. By the “sons of Jacob” are meant persons who have peculiar rights and titles. Unto them that believe, He hath given the right and power to become sons of God. They have an interest in the blood of Christ; they have a right to “enter in through the gates into the city;” they have a title to eternal honors; they have a promise to everlasting glory; they have a right to call themselves sons of God. Oh! there are peculiar rights and privileges belonging to the “sons of Jacob.” But these “sons of Jacob” were men of peculiar manifestations. Jacob had had peculiar manifestations from his God, and thus he was highly honored.Once, at night-time, he lay down and slept; he had the hedges for his curtains, the sky for his canopy, a stone for his pillow, and the earth for his bed. Oh! then he had a peculiar manifestation. There was a ladder, and he saw the angels of God ascending and descending. He thus had a manifestation of Christ Jesus, as the ladder which reaches from earth to heaven, up and down which angels came to bring us mercies. Then what a manifestation there was at Mahanaim, when the angels of God met him; and again at Peniel, when he wrestled with God, and saw Him face to face.
Those were peculiar manifestations; and this passage refers to those who, like Jacob, have had peculiar manifestations. The sons of Jacob have had peculiar manifestations. They have talked with God as a man talketh with his friend; they have whispered in the ear of Jehovah; Christ hath been with them to sup with them, and they with Christ; and the Holy Spirit hath shone into their souls with such a mighty radiance, that they could not doubt about special manifestations. The “sons of Jacob” are the men who enjoy these manifestations.
Then, they are men of peculiar trials. Ah! poor Jacob! I should not choose Jacob’s lot if I had not the prospect of Jacob’s blessing; for a hard lot his was. He had to run away from his father’s house to Laban’s; and then that surly old Laban cheated him all the years he was there — cheated him of his wife, cheated him in his wages, cheated him in his flocks, and cheated him all through the story. By-and-bye he had to run away from Laban, who pursued him and overtook him. Next came Esau with four hundred men to cut him up root and branch.
Then there was a season of prayer, and afterwards he wrestled, and had to go all his life with his thigh out of joint. But a little further on, Rachel, his dear beloved, died. Then his daughter Dinah is led astray, and the sons murder the Shechemites. Anon there is dear Joseph sold into Egypt, and a famine comes. Then Reuben goes up to his couch and pollutes it; Judah commits incest with his own daughter-inlaw; and all his sons become a plague to him. At last Benjamin is taken away; and the old man, almost broken-hearted, cries, “Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away.” Never was man more tried than Jacob, all through the one sin of cheating his brother. All through his life God chastised him. But I believe there are many who can sympathize with dear old Jacob. They have had to pass through trials very much like his. Well, cross-bearers! God says, “I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed.” Poor tried souls! ye are not consumed because of the unchanging nature of your God. Now do not get fretting, and say, with the self-conceit of misery, “I am the man who hath seen affliction.” Why, “the Man of Sorrows” was afflicted more than you; Jesus was indeed a mourner. You only see the skirts of the garments of affliction. You never have trials like His. You do not understand what troubles mean; you have hardly sipped the cup of trouble; you have only had a drop or two, but Jesus drank the dregs. “Fear not,” saith God, “I am the Lord, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob,” men of peculiar trials, “are not consumed.”
Then, “sons of Jacob” are men of peculiar character; for though there were some things about Jacob’s character which we cannot commend, there are one or two things which God commends. There was Jacob’s faith, by which Jacob had his name written amongst the mighty worthies who obtained not the promises on earth, but shall obtain them in heaven. Are you men of faith, beloved? Do you know what it is to walk by faith, to live by faith, to get your temporary food by faith, to live on spiritual manna — all by faith? Is faith the rule of your life? if so, you are the “sons of Jacob.”
Then Jacob was a man of prayer — a man who wrestled, and groaned, and prayed. “Ah! you poor heathen, don’t you pray?” “No!” you say, “I never thought of such a thing; for years I have not prayed.” Well, I hope you may before you die. Live and die without prayer, and you will pray long enough when you get to hell. There is a woman: she was so busy sending her children to the Sunday-school, she had no time to pray. No time to pray? Had you time to dress? There is a time for every purpose under heaven, and if you had purposed to pray, you would have prayed. Sons of God cannot live without prayer. They are wrestling Jacobs. They are men in whom the Holy Ghost so works, that they can no more live without prayer than I can live without breathing. They must pray. Mark you, if you are living without prayer, you are living without Christ; and dying like that, your portion will be in the lake which burneth with fire. God redeem you, God rescue you from such a lot! But you who are “the sons of Jacob” take comfort, for God is immutable.
John Owen
By God's all-wise appointment, our assemblies are the food and the nourishment of our souls. It is the main way whereby we publicly identify with Christ and His Gospel. We evidence our love for Christ by our loyalty and support of one another in opposition to all false worship. Many things will rise up in competition to the diligent attendance of our assemblies. We must recognize and refuse to give into anything that is opposed to what Christ commands. The total falling away of a graceless professor always begins with this neglect, this disassociation with God's people.
For you, O God, Have Proved Us
Octavius Winslow
"For you, O God, have proved us: you have
tried us, as silver is tried." Psalm 66:10
FAITH has its trials, as well as its temptations. Affliction is a trial of
faith; sorrow in any of its multitudinous forms is a trial of faith; the
delay of mercy is a trial of faith; the promise unfulfilled is a trial of
faith; the prayer unanswered is a trial of faith; painful providences,
mysterious dispensations, straitened circumstances, difficulties, and
embarrassments, all are so many trials of faith, commissioned and designed
by God to place the gold in the crucible, and the wheat in the sieve, that
both may be purified and tried. Ah, is it no trial of the believer's faith,
when the foundation upon which it rests is assailed? Is it no trial of faith
to have distorted representations of God presented to its eye, dishonoring
thoughts of God suggested to the mind, unbelieving apprehensions of Jesus,
His love, His grace, and His works, foisted upon the heart? To entertain for
one moment the idea that God is unfaithful to His word, or that in His
dealings He is arbitrary and unkind? that Jesus is not what He represents
Himself to be, an all-sufficient Savior of the lost, the healer of the
broken in heart, the tender, gentle Savior, not breaking the bruised reed,
but supporting it, not quenching the smoking flax, but fanning it? Oh yes,
these to a holy mind are painful trials of faith, from which the tender
conscience shrinks, and the sensitive heart recoils.
It is only true grace that is really tried. No man puts mere dross into his
furnace, or mere chaff into his sieve. All his toils and pains-taking would
go for nothing, for it would come forth in its nature unaltered and
unchanged—the dross would still be dross, and the chaff would still be
chaff. Now the Lord tries, and Satan tempts, nothing but genuine grace. It
is the wheat, and not the tares, that is made to pass through the fiery
trial. Thus do afflictions and trying dispensations prove tests of a man's
religion. When there is nothing but tinsel in a profession of Christianity,
the fire will consume it; when there is nothing but chaff, the wind will
scatter it. The furnace of temptation and the flail of affliction often
prove a man's work of what sort it is, long before the discovery is made in
a world where no errors can be corrected, and when it will be too late to
rectify mistakes. Thus it is that so many professors, who have not the root
of the matter in themselves, but endure for awhile, are offended and fall
away when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word.
And why is the "wheat" thus sifted? why is so Divine and precious a grace
subjected to a process so humiliating and severe? Certainly not because of
any intrinsic impurity in the grace itself. All the graces of the Spirit, as
they proceed from God, and are implanted in the heart, are pure and holy; as
essentially free from sin as the nature from where they flow. But in
consequence of the impurity of the heart, and the defilement of the nature
in which they are deposited—the body of sin and death by which they are
incased—they become mixed with particles of earthliness and carnality, the
fine gold with dross, and the pure wheat with chaff. To purify and separate
the graces of the Holy Spirit from these things, so foreign to their nature,
the Lord permits these temptations, and sends these trials of faith.
Not only may the faith of a child of God be severely assailed, but there are
times when that faith may greatly waver. Is this surprising? No, the
greatest wonder is, that with all these severe shocks, through which it
passes, it does not entirely fail. Nothing but the Divinity that dwells
within that grace keeps it. Were it not Divine and incorruptible, fail
entirely it must. Look at Abraham—on one occasion in the strength of faith
offering up his son, and on another occasion in the weakness of faith
denying his wife! Look at David—in the strength of faith slaying Goliath,
and in the weakness of faith fleeing from Saul! Look at Job—in the strength
of faith justifying God in the severest of His dealings, and in the weakness
of faith cursing the day that He was born! Look at Peter—in the strength of
faith drawing his sword and smiting a servant of the high priest's, and in
the weakness of faith forced by a little maid to deny the Lord whom he had
but just defended! Oh! the wonder of wonders is, that there remains a single
grain in the sieve, or a particle of metal in the furnace, or a solitary
spark in the ocean—that all is not utterly scattered, consumed, and
annihilated! Nothing but the power of God and its own incorruptible and
imperishable nature, preserve it.
"Howbeit You Are Just in All That is Brought Upon Us"
Octavius Winslow
"Howbeit you are just in all that is
brought upon us; for you have done right, but we have done wickedly."
Neh. 9:33
IT would be incorrect to suppose that the chastisements of our heavenly
Father were in themselves pleasant and desirable. They are no more so than
the physician's recipe, or the surgeon's lancet. But as in the one case, so
in the other, we look beyond the medicine to its sanative qualities, we
forget the bitterness of the draught in its remedial results. Thus with the
medicine of the soul—the afflictions sent and sanctified by God. Forgetting
the bitter and the pain of God's dealings, the only question of moment is,
what is the cause and what the design of my Father in this? The answer
is—our deeper sanctification.
This is effected, first, by making us more thoroughly acquainted with the
holiness of God Himself. Sanctified chastisement has an especial tendency to
this. To suppose a case. Our sense of God's holiness, previously to this
dispensation, was essentially defective, unsound, superficial, and
uninfluential. The judgment admitted the truth; we could speak of it to
others, and in prayer acknowledge it to God; but still there was a vagueness
and an indistinctness in our conceptions of it, which left the heart cold,
and rendered the walk uneven. To be led now into the actual, heart-felt
experience of the truth, that in all our transactions we had to deal with
the holy, heart-searching Lord God, we find quite another and an advanced
stage in our journey, another and a deeper lesson learned in our school.
This was the truth, and in this way Nehemiah was taught. "Howbeit you are
just (holy) in all that is brought upon us; for you have done right, but we
have done wickedly." Oh blessed acknowledgment! Do not think that we speak
unfeelingly when we say, it were worth all the discipline you have ever
passed through, to a have become more deeply schooled in the lesson of God's
holiness. One most fruitful cause of all our declensions from the Lord will
be found wrapped up in the crude and superficial views which we entertain of
the character of God, as a God of infinite purity. And this truth He will
have His people to study and to learn, not by sermons, nor from books, not
from hearsay, nor from theory, but in the school of loving
chastisement—personally and experimentally. Thus beholding more closely, and
through a clearer medium, this Divine perfection, the believer is changed
more perfectly into the same moral image. "He for our profit, that we might
be partakers of His holiness."
The rod of the covenant has a wonderful power of discovery. Thus, by
revealing to us the concealed evil of our natures, we become more holy. "The
blueness (that is, the severity) of a wound cleanses away evil." This
painful discovery often recalls to memory past failings and sins. David went
many years in oblivion of his departure from God, until Nathan was sent,
who, while he told him of his sin, with the same breath announced the
message of Divine forgiveness. Then it was the royal penitent kneeled down
and poured forth from the depths of his anguished spirit the fifty-first
Psalm—a portion of God's word which you cannot too frequently study. "I do
remember my sin this day," is the exclamation of the chastened sufferer.
Thus led to search into the cause of the Divine correction, and discovering
it—perhaps after a long season of forgetfulness—the "blueness of the wound,"
the severity of the rod, "cleanses away the evil;" in other words, more
deeply sanctifies the soul. "Show me why you contend with me."
Octavius Winslow
"I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of
love." Hosea 11:4
THE word of God teaches us, that "a soft answer turns away wrath." And, again,
it is said, "By long forbearing is a prince persuaded, and a soft tongue breaks
the bone." It was by kindness that David calmed down the enraged temper of Saul,
obtaining thus a two-fold victory—a victory over himself; and a victory over the
wrathful king. Kindness is the great law of the Divine government; and in man is
the strongest element of human power. How does God overcome an evil; is it not
by good? And based upon this is a like precept enforced upon us: "If your enemy
hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing you shall heap
coals of fire on his head. Do not be overcome of evil, but overcome evil with
good." There is no weapon so powerful as kindness. It is by the love of the
cross the enmity of the carnal mind is subdued, and its inbred evils overcome;
and would we be exquisitely severe to the faults and delinquencies of the erring
and the hardened, we must be exquisitely kind. The very severity of love will
more quickly and effectually subdue, win, and reclaim, than all the harsh, cruel
treatment, unfeeling upbraiding, and bitter threats, that sternness ever
invented. The human heart expands to the looks, and words, and actions of human
kindness and sympathy; just as the wild rose and the delicate flower nurtured in
our gardens open to the light and warmth of the morning sun.
We should remember this in our walks and labors of benevolence. Brought, as we
sometimes are, into contact with extreme cases of guilt and crime, we should not
overlook the material we yet possess, with which to repair the fallen structure.
No heart should be considered too polluted—no mind too dark—no character too
debased—for the power of God, working by human instrumentality, to restore. The
surface may present to the eye the iron features of a hardened and a reckless
character; nevertheless, there are springs of thought and feeling and memory,
beneath that repulsive surface, which, if touched by a skillful and a delicate
hand, will unlock the door of the heart, and admit you within its most sacred
recesses. Thus with gentleness and kindness you may soften the most hardened,
disarm the most ferocious, calm the most violent, and attain complete possession
of a mind that has long resisted and repelled every other subduing influence.
The true disciple of Christ, like the beloved John, who leaned on the bosom of
Jesus, and felt and imbibed the warmth of its gentleness, tenderness, and love,
will ever desire to exhibit the loving, sympathizing, forgiving spirit of his
Lord and Master, from whose lips no words of harshness ever breathed.
Octavius Winslow
"Whoever eats my flesh, and drinks my blood, has
eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food
indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eats my flesh, and drinks my
blood, dwells in me, and I in him." John 6:54-56
FROM where do the ordinances derive their efficacy and power, but from the
vitality of the Redeemer's blood? There could be no life, for instance, in the
ordinance of the Lord's Supper but as that institution presented in a lively
picture to the faith of the recipient the life-blood of the Savior. With what
clearness and solemnity has He Himself put forth this truth, in the verses of
our motto; thus declaring that he who in lowly and simple faith drinks of the
blood of Jesus, partakes of the life of Jesus, because the life of Jesus is in
the blood. Should the eye of an unconverted soul light upon this page, or should
it arrest the attention of an unbelieving and therefore an unworthy recipient of
the ordinance, let that individual seriously ponder these solemn words of
Jesus—"Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink His blood, you have
no life in you." The ordinance has no life of itself; the mere symbol possesses
no spiritual vitality whatever; it cannot impart life, nor can it sustain life.
But the life in the ordinance flows from the exercise of faith, through this
medium, with the life-blood of Jesus. Therefore, if you rest only in the symbol,
if in this ordinance you partake not by faith of the blood of Jesus, your soul
is destitute of spiritual life. In the words of Jesus Himself, "You have no life
in you."
But oh what life does the believing communicant find in the atoning blood! what
food, that refreshment, what nourishment! Is it any wonder that Jesus should be
to Him the chief among ten thousand, and that the blood of Jesus should be the
most precious thing in the universe? If the death of Jesus is his life, what
must the life of Jesus be! If the humiliation of Jesus is his honor, what must
the exaltation of Jesus be! If the cross of Jesus is his glory, what must the
throne of Jesus be! If Jesus crucified is his boast, what must be Jesus
glorified! "If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled by the death of His
Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life."
Reader, is the blood of Jesus the life of your soul? So momentous is this truth,
bear with me in pressing it upon your attention. Believe me when, with all
affection and solemnity, I say that Your religion, your creed, your profession,
are lifeless if they are not vivified, pervaded, and animated by the blood of
the Son of God. God have no dealings with you in this great matter your
salvation, but through the blood. He cannot "reason" with you about your sins of
"crimson" and of "scarlet" dye, but on the footing of the blood. He cannot meet
you for one moment in any other character than as a "consuming fire," but as He
meets you at, and communes with you from above the mercy-seat sprinkled with
blood. The blood of atonement is everything to God in the way of satisfaction,
of glory, and of honor; and should be everything to you in the way of
acceptance, pardon, and communion. There is not a moment in which God's eye of
complacence is withdrawn from the blood of His Son in the perpetual acceptance
of the believer; and there should not be a moment in which our eye of faith, in
every circumstance of our daily walk before Him, should not also be upon this
"blood of sprinkling, that speaks better things than that of Abel."
Octavius Winslow
"Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are
you disquieted within me? Hope you in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is
the health of my countenance, and my God." Psalm 42:11
In all His dispensations—the severest and the darkest—have faith in God. This
is, perhaps, one of the greatest achievements of faith. To believe in God when
He smiles, to trust in Him when conscious of His nearness, to have faith in Him
when the path is flowery and pleasant, were an easy task. But to have faith in
Him when "He holds back the face of His throne, and spreads His cloud upon it;
to love Him when He frowns; to follow Him when He withdraws; to cleave to Him
when He would seem to shake us off; to trust in Him when His arm is raised to
slay—this were faith indeed. And yet all this the faith of God's elect can
achieve. If not, of what value is it? Of what possible use to the mariner would
be the compass which would only work in the day, and not in the night? which
only served to steer the vessel in light winds, and not in rough gales? Faith is
the believing soul's compass, guiding it as truly and as certainly to the
heavenly port through the wildest tempest as through the serenest calm. To
change the figure, faith is that celestial telescope which can pierce the
thickest haze or the darkest cloud, descrying suns and stars glowing and
sparkling in the far distance. It can discern God's smile under a frown; it can
read His name to be "love" beneath the dark dispensation; it can behold the Sun
of Righteousness beaming through the interstices of gloomy clouds; and now and
then it can catch a glimpse of the harbor itself, with the towering turrets and
golden spires of the "new Jerusalem" glittering in the distance. Oh, it is a
wonderful grace, the precious faith of God's elect!
Is God dealing with you now in a way of deep trial, of dark providence,
mysterious to your mind, and painful to your heart? Is He even chastening you
for your backslidings, correcting you for your sins? Still "have faith in God."
Sensible appearances, second causes, cannot in the least degree affect the
ground of your faith which is God Himself—His immutable nature, His unchangeable
love, His eternal purpose, His everlasting covenant, His own Divine and glorious
perfections. Believe that you are in His heart, and that your interests are in
His hands. Have faith in His wisdom to guide, in His love to direct, in His
power to sustain, in His faithfulness to fulfill every promise that now relates
to your best welfare and happiness. Only believe in God—that all things in His
disposal of you, in His transactions with you, are working together for our
present and eternal good. All that He expects and requires of you now is to have
faith in Him. The cloud may be dark, the sea tempestuous, but God is in the
cloud, and "the Lord sits upon the flood." Even now it is the privilege of your
faith to exclaim, "My soul, hope you in God. He is my God; I will trust, and not
be
afraid."
Oh, what inspiring words are these—"hope you in God!" I hesitate not to say, my
reader, you may hope in God. Though your case may seem desperate, to your eye
cheerless and hopeless, not merely too intricate for man, but too unworthy for
God—yet you may hope in God. Take your case to Him, hoping against hope, and
believing in unbelief. Will He close His heart against you? Never! Will He repel
you when you fly to Him? Never! It is not in the heart of God, no, nor is it in
His power, to do so. Take hold of His strength—I speak it humbly,
reverentially—and you have overcome God. You disarm Him of the instrument and of
the power to punish you; you have laid your hand of faith upon the strength of
His love, and have made peace with Him. You cannot cherish a hope too sanguine,
nor exercise a faith too implicit in God, hopeless, cheerless, and extreme as
your case may be. Impossible! God never appears so like Himself, as in the
season of the believer's darkness and suffering. At the very moment in which he
sees the least of God, God appears the most what He is. The tenderest unfoldings
of His heart are in sorrow, the brightest exhibitions of His character are in
darkness, and the most glorious displays of His wisdom, power, and grace are
seen gleaming through the mist.
"Brethren, If a Man Be Overtaken in a Fault"
Octavius Winslow
"Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault,
you which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness;
considering yourself, lest you also be tempted." Gal. 6:1
THE duty of brotherly admonition and reproof is a perfectly legitimate exercise
of Christian love. It may be found the most difficult, but the result will prove
it to be the most holy and precious operation of this grace. The Church of God
is one family, linked together by ties and interests the closest, the holiest,
and the tenderest. It is natural, therefore, that each member should desire for
the others the utmost perfection of Christian attainment, and must feel honored
or dishonored, as the case may be, by the walk and conversation of those with
whom the relationship is so close. In Christian friendship, too, the same
feeling is recognized. We naturally feel anxious to see in one whom we tenderly
love the removal of whatever detracts from the beauty, the symmetry, and the
perfection of Christian character. Here, then, will the duty of brotherly
admonition and reproof find its appropriate sphere of exercise. Few things
contribute more to the formation of Christian character, and to the holy walk of
a church, than the faithful, Christ-like discharge of this duty. It is true it
requires no ordinary degree of grace in him who administers, and in him who
receives, the reproof. That in the one there should be nothing of the spirit
which seems to say, "Stand by, I am holier than you," nothing to give needless
pain or humiliation, but the utmost meekness, gentleness, and tenderness; and
that in the other, there should be the tractable and humble mind, that admits
the failing, receives the reproof, and is grateful for the admonition. "Let the
righteous smite me," says David, "it shall be a kindness; and let him reprove
me, it shall be an excellent oil." Thus, while this duty is administered and
received in the spirit of the meek and lowly Jesus, the church will be kindly
affectioned one to another, knit together in love, and growing up into that
state in which she will be without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing.
True Christian love will avoid taking the seat of judgment. There are few
violations of the law of love more common than those rash and premature
judgments, which some Christians are ever ready to pronounce upon the actions,
the principles, and the motives of others. And yet a more difficult and delicate
position no Christian can be placed in than this. To form a true and correct
opinion of a certain line of conduct, we must often possess the heart-searching
eye of God. We must be intimately acquainted with all the hidden motives, and
must be fully in possession of all the concomitant circumstances of the case,
before we can possibly arrive at anything like an accurate opinion. Thus, in
consequence of this blind, premature pre-judgment, this rash and hasty decision,
the worst possible construction is often put upon the actions and the remarks of
others, extremely unjust, and deeply wounding to the feelings. But especially
inconsistent with this love, when small unessential differences of opinion in
the explanation of scriptural facts, and consequent nonconformity in creed and
discipline, are constructed into rejection of the faith once delivered to the
saints, and made the occasion of hard thoughts or of unkind and severe
treatment. Let us then hear the Lord's words, "Judge not, that you do not be
judged;" and the apostle's, "Why do you judge your brother? or why do you set at
nothing your brother? for we shall all stand before the judgment-seat of
Christ."
Octavius Winslow
"O God, you have taught me , from my youth: and
hitherto have I declared your wondrous works. You, which have showed me great
and sore troubles, shall quicken me again, and shall bring me up again from the
depths of the earth. You shall increase my greatness, and comfort me on every
side." Psalm 71:17, 20, 21.
A CAREFUL reader of David's history cannot but be impressed with the early
discipline into which this eminent servant of God was brought. He had scarcely
slain Israel's vaunting foe, while yet the flush of victory was upon his
youthful brow, and the songs of applause were resounding on his ear, when he
found himself placed in a position of the keenest trial and most imminent peril.
The jealousy of Saul at the unbounded popularity of the youthful warrior, in
whom he at once beheld a rival in his people's affection, if not a successor to
the throne, instantly dictated a policy the most oppressive and murderous. From
that moment the king sought his life. And thus from being the deliverer of the
nation, whom he had saved with his arm—an idol of the people, whom he had
entranced with his exploit, David became a fugitive and an exile. Thus suddenly
and darkly did the storm-cloud rise upon his bright and flattering prospects.
Two deeply spiritual and impressive lessons we may gather from this period of
his history. How rapidly, in the experience of the child of God, may a season of
prosperity and adulation be followed by one of trial and humiliation! It is,
perhaps, just the curb and the correction God sends to check and to save us. We
can ill sustain too sudden and too great an elevation. Few can wear their honors
meekly, and none apart from especial and great grace. And when God gives great
grace, we may always expect that He will follow it with great trial. He will
test the grace He gives. There is but a step from the "third heaven" to the
"thorn in the flesh." Oh, the wisdom and love of God that shine in this! Who
that sees in the discipline a loving and judicious Father, would cherish one
unkind rebellious thought?
Another lesson taught us is, that our severest and bitterest trials may be
engrafted upon our dearest and sweetest blessings. It was David's popularity
that evoked the storm now beating upon him. The grateful affection of the people
inspired the envy and hatred of the king. How often is it thus with us! God
bestows upon us blessings, and we abuse them. We idolize the creature He has
given, and cling too fondly to the friend He has bestowed—settle down too
securely in the nest He has made—inhale too eagerly the incense offered to our
rank, talents, and achievements—and God often adopts those very things as the
voice of His rebuke, and as the instruments of our correction. Thus may our
severest trials spring from our sweetest mercies. What a source of sorrow to
Abraham was his loved Isaac; and to Isaac was his favored Jacob; and to Jacob
was his precious Joseph; and to Jonah was his pleasant gourd! And what deep
spiritual truth would the Holy Spirit teach us by all this?—to seek to glorify
God in all our blessings when He gives them; and to enjoy all our blessings in
God, when He takes them away.
Octavius Winslow
"For the invisible things of him from the
creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are
made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse:
Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were
thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was
darkened." Romans 1:20-21
WE cannot forget that the God of revelation is the God of nature—that in
exploring this vast territory, we trespass upon the domain of no foreign
potentate, we invade no hostile kingdom, we tread no forbidden ground. The
spiritual mind, fond of soaring through nature in quest of new proofs of God's
existence, and fresh emblems of His wisdom, power, and goodness, exults in the
thought that it is his Father's domain he treads. He feels that God, his God, is
there; and the sweet consciousness of His all-pervading presence, and the
impress of His great perfections which everywhere meets his eye, overwhelm his
renewed soul with wonder, love, and praise. Oh the delight of looking abroad
upon nature, under a sense of pardoning, filial love in the soul, when enabled
to exclaim, "This God is my God." Let it not therefore be supposed that nature
and revelation are at war with each other. A spiritual mind may discover a close
and beautiful relation and harmony between the two. The study of God in His
external operations is by no means discouraged in His word. "The heavens declare
the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork. Day unto day utters
speech, and night unto night shows knowledge." And in the first verse of our
motto, the apostle refers to the rejection of this source of evidence by the
heathen.
But if natural theology has its advantages, it also has its limitations. It must
never be regarded as taking the place of God's word. It may just impart light
enough to the mind to leave its atheism "without excuse," but it cannot impart
light enough to convince the soul of its sinfulness—its guilt—its exposure to
the wrath of a holy God, and its need of such a Savior as Jesus is. All this is
the work of the eternal and blessed Spirit; and if my reader is resting his hope
of heaven upon what he has learned of God and of himself in the light of nature
only—a stranger to the teaching and operations of the Holy Spirit upon his
mind—he is awfully deceiving himself. Natural religion can never renew,
sanctify, and save the soul. A man may be deeply schooled in it as a science—he
may investigate it thoroughly—defend it ably and successfully, and even, from
the feeble light it emits, grope his dark way to the great edifice of
revelation—but beyond this it cannot conduct him: it cannot open the door, and
admit him to the fullness of the gospel therein contained. It may go far to
convince him that the word of God is true, but it cannot "open the book and
loose the seals thereof," to disclose to the mind its rich and exhaustless
treasures. Oh no! another and a diviner light must shine upon his soul; another
and a more powerful hand must break the seals. That light, that hand, is God the
Holy Spirit. He only can make the soul acquainted with this solemn truth, "The
heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." He only can
explore this dark chamber of imagery, and bring to light the hidden evil that is
there. He only can lay the soul low in the dust before God at the discovery, and
draw out the heart in the humiliating confession—"Behold, I am vile!" He only
can take of the blood of a precious Savior, and the glorious righteousness of
the God-Man Mediator, and, working faith to receive it, through this infinitely
glorious medium seal pardon and acceptance, and peace upon the conscience. Oh
you blessed and loving Spirit! this is Your work, and Your alone. Your to empty,
Your to fill; Your to lay low, Your to exalt; Your to wound, Your to heal; Your
to convince of sin, and Your to lead the soul, all sinful, guilty, and wretched
as it is, to the precious blood of Jesus—"the fountain opened for sin and
uncleanness." You shall have the praise, and wear the CROWN!
Octavius Winslow
"For whatever is born of God overcomes the world:
and this is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith." 1 John 5:4
How does victory over the world mark one born of God? It proves it in this way.
That which overcomes the world must be superhuman, of almighty power. It cannot
be anything of the world, nor can it be of the flesh; for the flesh has no power
over the flesh, and the world will never oppose itself. The flesh loves itself;
and the world is too fond of power, quietly and unresistingly to yield its
dominion. What then is that which overcomes the world? Faith is the conquering
grace—this it is that gives the victory—this it is that crushes this tremendous
foe. And what is faith but the "gift of God," and the work of the eternal Spirit
in the soul? So that He who possesses that faith which is of the operation of
the Spirit is "born of God;" and "whatever is born of God overcomes the world,"
and the instrument by which he overcomes the world is faith—"Who is he that
overcomes the world, but he that believes that Jesus is the Son of God?"
And how does faith overcome the world? By leading the believer to the cross of
Jesus. True faith deals with its great object, Jesus. It goes to Him in the
conflict, it goes to Him when hard pressed, it goes to Him in its weakness, it
goes to Him in deep distress—on Him it leans, and through Him it always obtains
the victory. Of the martyrs it is recorded, that they "overcame through the
blood of the Lamb;" and Paul employs similar language in describing his victory:
"God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by
whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." It is faith in
Christ that gives us the victory. How could a feeble saint, with no strength or
wisdom in himself, overcome so powerful and subtle an enemy as this, without
supernatural aid? Never could he. Look at the world! There are its ten thousand
temptations—its temptations of pleasure—its temptations of ambition—its
temptations of wealth—its false religion—its temporizing policy—its hollow
friendship—its empty show—its gay deceptions—its ten thousand arts to ensnare,
beguile, allure, and charm; oh, how could one poor weak believer ever crush this
fearful, powerful foe, but as he is "strong in the grace that is in Christ
Jesus"? The cross of Christ gives him the victory. Christ has already conquered
the world, and faith in His blood will enable the feeblest soul to exclaim,
while the enemy lies subdued at his feet, "Thanks be unto God, which always
causes us to triumph in Christ."
Reader, have you obtained the victory over the world, or has the world obtained
the victory over you? One of the two is certain—either you are warring against
it, or you are its passive and un resisting victim; either you are "born of
God," and "have overcome the world," or you are yet unregenerate, and the world
has overcome you. On whose side is the victory? Perhaps you are a professor of
the Lord Jesus, and yet loving the world, and conforming to its maxims, its
policy, its principles, its fashions, its dress, its amusements, yes, its very
religion—for it has its hollow forms of religion. Is it so? Then hear what the
word of the Lord says to you: "Love not the world, neither the things that are
in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him."
Solemn declaration for you, you professors of Christ, and yet lovers of the
world! You cannot love God and love the world at the same time. Do not be
deceived! The outward garb will not save you. The mere name, the empty
lamp—these will avail you nothing when you come to die. If the world has never
been ejected from your heart—if you have never been crucified to it, then the
love of God is not there; and the love of God absent, you are a stranger to the
new birth.
Octavius Winslow
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour is
coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God: and
those who hear shall live." John 5:25
THE condition from which the renewed man passes is that of death. This was his
Adamic, or natural state. The sinner is by law dead; the curse is upon him, and
condemnation awaits him. No, he is now condemned. "He that believes not is
condemned already." As in a state of grace heaven is commenced below, so in a
state of nature hell is commenced below. Grace is the beginning of glory, and
nature is the beginning of condemnation. The one has in it the element of
eternal happiness; the other has in it the element of eternal woe.
But the believer in Jesus is one who has "passed from death unto life." The
Spirit of God has breathed into him the breath of life, and He has become a
living soul. What an amazing truth is this! We see into what a new and holy life
the believing sinner has passed. Quitting forever the low life of sense, he now
enters on the exalted life which every believer lives—the life of faith on the
Son of God. He has now learned to lean upon Jesus, his righteousness and his
strength, his consolation and his support. He is happy in sorrow, joyful in
tribulation, strong in weakness, as by faith he leans upon Christ. What a life,
too, is the life of communion with God, springing from his life of oneness with
Christ! The believer now holds communion with essential life, with essential
holiness, with essential love. The holy breathing of his soul is the fellowship
of Christ below with the Father above. It is the one life in heaven and on
earth. What is prayer to you, my reader? Is it communion? is it fellowship? Does
God meet you, and open His heart to you? Are you ever sensible that you have, as
it were, attracted His eye, and possessed yourself of His ear? Is prayer the
element in which your soul lives? Do you make every circumstance of life an
occasion of prayer? As soon as sorrow comes, do you take it to the Lord's heart?
As soon as burdening care comes, do you take it to the Lord's arm? As soon as
conscience is beclouded, do you take it to the Lord's blood? As soon as the
inward corruption rises, do you take it to the Lord's grace? This, beloved, is
the life of faith. Mistake not the nature of prayer. True prayer is never more
eloquent and prevailing than when breathed forth in real desires, and ardent
longings, and groans that cannot be uttered. Sighs, and words, and tears,
flowing from a lowly, contrite heart, have a voice more powerful and persuasive
than the most eloquent diction that ever clothed the lips of man. Oh to be led
by the Spirit more perfectly into a knowledge of the nature and the power of
prayer! for this is the grand evidence of our spiritual life. "Behold, he
prays."
Top of Page
James Meikle
What would you have, O my soul! to make you content? You have much in hand, and more in hope. You have the comforts of life, and the means of salvation; the word preached and the sacraments dispensed; an open vision, and an English Bible. You have the possession of the life that now is, and the promise of that which is to come. If you are not so blessed as some, you are not so miserable as others. If there are many in a higher and better state in the world than you, (and should you quarrel?) there are more in a lower and worse condition, (and should not you wonder that you are so blessed?)
If you get bread to eat, and clothing to put on; or anything which is a blessing—it is much, seeing you deserve the curse and wrath of God! It is mercy that you are an inhabitant of God's earth—you might have been a prisoner in the pit of devouring fire! You have cause of thankful exultation, that God's justice is not inexorably set against you. And it may content you in however bad condition you presently are—that God does not contend with you forever.
Are you not ashamed to wish for much—when you have forfeited all? Would you rather have your better part here on this vain earth—than the eternal portion hereafter? Would rather you have the nether-springs of earthly comforts—than the upper-springs of heavenly consolation? Would you rather have filthy lucre—than the most blessed God? Would you rather have earthly felicity—than heavenly glory? No, Lord! You, yourself, your love alone—shall content me forever! Anything you now give me, is too much for me—who deserve nothing! A crumb of mercy a rich banquet to me—who am a spiritual bankrupt. What does it matter, how I now fare—since I shall in a little while, be brought into the king's palace, there to abide forever in the midst of eternal pleasures?
Surely, then, his time can never be bitter—who has the hope of an happy eternity! Nor can crosses greatly vex that soul—who is crucified to the world, and the world to him! Nor has he any loss to fear—who has his treasures in eternity! Neither can worldly misfortunes impoverish him—who is an heir of the true eternal riches. Nor can the death of friends distress him—whose best friend lives forever!
I see, then, I only need one thing to make me happy. And that is, to know the precious things of my eternal treasure! Speak, and I am blessed forever; speak the heavenly word, "All things are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's.
Octavius Winslow
"He says to him again the second time, Simon, son of Jonas,
loves you me? He says unto him, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." John
21:16
Robert Hawker "One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind,
now I see."–John ix. 25. This is a great thing to say, my soul: on what
foundation dost thou rest this knowledge? If the Lord Jesus hath opened
thine eyes, then indeed thou canst not but discover thy former
blindness; for during that state of nature thou literally couldst
discern nothing. And if thy former blindness be discovered, then thy
present sight hath brought thee acquainted with new objects. Pause over
the review of both this morning. Tile blindness of nature to spiritual
things is marked in scripture in strong characters. A poor blind sinner
sees nothing of the light of life. The Sun of Righteousness is not risen
upon him. He discerns nothing of the love of God in Christ. If he reads
the scripture, the vail is upon his heart. If he hears of Jesus, he sees
no beauty in him. Nothing is nearer to him than the Lord, and nothing
further from his thoughts. To tell him of the sweetness of the word of
God, is strange to him; for he tastes nothing of sweetness in it. To
tell him of the loveliness of ordinances and the sabbaths; these are
strange things in his esteem. My soul, if indeed thine eyes be opened,
thou wilt know that thou wast once indeed blind, in the fullest sense of
the word, to all these delightful views of sacred things, which now are
thy supreme pleasure and thy joy. Say, then, what hast thou seen to
justify this saying: "One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I
see?" Hast thou seen the king in his beauty? Hast thou seen with the eye
of faith the glories of Jesus? Yes, if so be all other objects are
obscured. The sight of Jesus, as the Christ of God, hath darkened the
glory and excellency of all beside, Jesus, as he is in himself, as he is
in his offices, characters, relations; as he is to thee and thy
happiness; is the one, the only one thing needful; and thou must count
all things but dung and dross to win Christ. These, my soul, are blessed
tokens that Jesus hath opened thine eyes, and brought thee out of
darkness into his marvellous light. By and by thou shalt see him as he
is, and dwell with him for ever. Octavius Winslow Octavius Winslow "As you have sent me into the world, even so have I also sent
them into the world." John 17:18
"God is love," and the expression of that love is the sending His own Son
into the world, to achieve what the law, in its weakness, could not do. Was
ever love like this? "God so loved." And was Jesus willing to engage in the
embassy? Did He voluntarily clothe Himself in our rags, stoop to our
poverty, consent to be arrested and thrown into prison for us? Was He made a
curse that He might deliver us from the curse? Did judgment pass upon Him,
that we might be saved from the wrath to come? Oh here is infinite,
boundless love! Then let Him have in return our love; it is the least that
He can ask, or we can make. Let it be a hearty, cordial, obedient,
increasing love. Alas! it is but a drop, when it should be an ocean. It is
but a faint spark, when it should be a vehement flame.
How should our best affection flow out toward Him who assumed, and stills
wears, our nature! What an attractive, winning object is the Incarnate God,
the God-man Mediator! Fairer than the children of men, the chief among ten
thousand, the altogether lovely, He is the wonder and admiration, the
beloved and the song, of all heaven. Why should He not be equally so of all
earth? Did the Son of God take up our rude and suffering nature, and shall
we be loth to take up His lowly and despised cross, and follow hard after
Him? Forbid it, Lord! Forbid it, you precious Savior! What humiliation, what
abasement, can be too much for us, the sinful sons of men, when You, the
sinless Son of God, did so abase and humble Yourself! Let Your love
constrain us to stand firm to You, to Your truth, and to Your cause, when
the world despises, when friends forsake, when relatives look cold, and all
seem to leave and forsake us. And as You did condescend to be made in the
likeness of our human and sinful nature, oh conform us to the likeness of
Your Divine and holy nature. As You were a partaker with us, make us
partakers with You. As You were made like unto us, in what was proper to
man, make us like You, in what is proper to God. And as You did come down to
our sinful and dim earth, lift us to Your pure and bright heaven!
What a privilege is nearness to Christ! Yet, dear and precious as it is, how
sadly is it overlooked! We may trace this, in some degree, to the believer's
oversight of his oneness with Christ. Yet to forget this truth is to forget
that He lives. As the branch has one life with the vine, the graft one life
with the tree, so he that is united to Christ, and grafted into Christ, has
one life with Christ. Go where he may, he is one with Christ. Be his
circumstances what they may, he is one with Christ. And as he is in Christ,
so Christ is in him. And if Christ be in him, dwelling in him, living in
him, walking in him, so also is Christ in every event, and incident, and
circumstance of his history. He cannot look upon the darkest cloud that
overhangs his path, but he may say, "Christ is in my cloud; Christ is in my
sorrow; Christ is in my conflict; Christ is in my need; Christ is all to me,
and Christ is in all with me."
THE figurative allusion is to a familiar law of the Jewish economy.
It will be recollected that, under the Levitical dispensation, the
Lord commanded that the first-fruits, in the form of a single sheaf,
should be sickled and waved before him by the priest; and that this
wave-offering was to be considered as constituting the herald, or
the pledge, of the ripened and full harvest. And not only should it
be an earnest and a pledge, but it should represent the nature and
character of the fruit which, before long, in luxuriant abundance,
would crowd with its golden sheaves, amid shouts of gladness, the
swelling garner. When, therefore, it is said that believers in Jesus
have the "first-fruits of the Spirit," the meaning clearly is, that
they have such communications of the Spirit now, as are a pledge and
foretaste of what they shall possess and enjoy in the great day of
the coming glory. "In whom also after that you believed, you were
sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our
inheritance, until the redemption of the purchased possession, unto
the praise of His glory."
We remark, in general terms, that if we are believers, then are we
partakers of that grace which is the earnest of glory. Do we partake
of the grace of life? It is the same life which beats in the souls
of the glorified. In us its pulsations are faint and fluctuating; in
them they are deep and constant—yet the life is the same. And if we
have the spirit of life dwelling in us now, then have we the
first-fruits of the life which is to come. Have we the spirit of
adoption? What is it but the earnest and the seal of our certain
reception into our Father's house? The love to God which overflows
our hearts, the yearnings of those hearts to be at home, are the
first-fruits of our consummated and glorified sonship. Thus might we
travel the entire circle of the Christian graces, which form,
sanctify, and adorn the Christian character; illustrating the truth,
that each grace wrought by the Spirit in the heart, on earth, is the
germ of glory in heaven, and that the perfection of glory will be
the perfection of each grace. The present character and tutelage of
the child of God are preparatory to a higher state of being—yes,
they are essential parts of that being itself. Oh, it is a holy and
inspiriting thought, that every development of grace, and every
aspiration of holiness, every victory of faith, every achievement of
prayer, and every gleam of joy in the soul here below, is the
earnest-sheaf of the golden ears of happiness and glory garnered for
the saints on high. "He that goes forth and weeps, bearing precious
seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his
sheaves with him." Have yore the "first-fruits of the Spirit"? Guard
them with tender, sleepless care. Nature, in her richest domain,
yields no such fruits or flowers as these. Employ all the means and
appliances within your reach, to keep verdant and fruitful the
sacred garden of your soul. Unveil it to the sun's light, the gentle
showers, and the soft gales of heaven. Let your incessant prayer be,
"Awake, O north wind; and come, you south; blow upon my garden, that
the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his
garden, and eat his pleasant fruits." Oh, guard those precious
"first-fruits"! Soon the glory they foreshadow will be revealed. The
autumnal tints are deepening, the golden ears are ripening, the
reaper's sickle is preparing, and before long we shall join in the
song of the angels' harvest-home, "Grace, grace unto it!"
NOT into the solitude of the desert—not into the calm but selfish
repose of the domestic circle—not into the hallowed but restricted
fellowship of the Church—but into the world—encircling them, for a
season, by its vanity, and subjecting them to its trials. And what
is their mission? That they should love the world? comport with the
world? fraternize with the world? Oh, no! not for this were they
sent into it. An object more worthy of His wisdom who sends, and
more in harmony with their high calling who are sent, is before
them. They are sent into the world that their lives should be a
constant, uncompromising, and solemn protest against its vanities
and its sins.
Mark again the words of Christ, in our motto "As you have sent me
into the world, even so have I also sent them into the world."
Christ was commissioned to testify of the world, that the works
thereof were evil. He came to labor for the world—to bless the
world—to honor His Father in the world. It was the glory of the
world that the Son of God was sent into it—that He made it for
awhile the place of His temporary abode, and the scene of His
stupendous redemption. It was the glory of the earth, that He trod
upon its turf. It was the glory of the ocean, that He sailed upon
its bosom. It was the glory of the sun, that it beamed upon His
head. It was the glory of the air, that it fanned His brow. It was
the glory of the waters, that they quenched His thirst. It was the
glory of the flowers, that they perfumed His path. It was the glory
of the sky, that it spread above Him its blue canopy. What planet
has been so honored as this? What world so visited, so
distinguished, so blest? Such is the Christian's pattern. Why has
Christ placed you in the position you now occupy? Why are you begirt
with so much folly, and trial, and danger? You are converted in the
midst of the world—your family is in the world—your associates are
in the world—your calling is in the world. Why is it so? Even that,
like your Lord and Master, you might, by your unworldly, heavenly
life, testify of the world that the works thereof are evil, and only
evil, and evil continually.
Saints of God, have close relations and intimate dealings with your
Elder Brother. Repose in Him your confidence, yield to Him your
affections, consecrate to Him your service. He regards you with
ineffable delight. With all your interests He is identified, and
with all your sorrows He sympathizes. He may, like Joseph, at times
speak roughly to His brethren, in the trying dispensations of His
providence; yet, like Joseph, He veils beneath that apparent
harshness a brother's deep and yearning love. Seek a closer
resemblance to His image; to which, ever remember, you are
predestined to be conformed. In order to this, study His beauty, His
precepts, His example; that "with open face, beholding as in a glass
the glory of the Lord, you may be changed into the same image, from
glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."
The Disposal of Providence Always Best
by James Meikle, 1730-1799
Why would I still take the government of myself out of your hand, and choose according to my fond desires? Can my ignorance penetrate through the thick darkness of futurity? Who would choose a blind mad-man to guide him through some lonely ways and intricate meanders, with which neither the traveler nor the guide are acquainted in the least: since he might lead him where he desires, and stab him as he strays?
It is surely safer to walk by faith in God, than to be led by my whims. I choose what is most agreeable to me; but God chooses what is most advantageous for me--and proves, in his disposal of me, that his love to me is greater than my love to myself. I love blindly—but he loves with the wisdom of a God! I would have my prayers answered at my time—but God answers them at his time, which is always the best time. I would have my blessings in large sums—but he gives them in small parcels, because I could not bear them all at once. So the prudent mother feeds her child, not according to the irregular appetite of her infant—but according to its real necessity, to afford nourishment.
In this unhappy life, it is not the least of my happiness, that I am not at my own direction, at my own disposal: for a ship without pilot, and at the mercy of wind and waves, might as well find the desired port--as I attain to rest and tranquility.
Through faith and patience it is, that I must inherit the promises. Therefore God, to make me inherit them in the way that all the saints have done before, tries my patience, and exercises my faith. And dare I quarrel his conduct, or be displeased at such bright displays of his peculiar care and loving kindness? Why, then, so many risings in my bosom, so many doubtings in my soul? Hence I will conclude of every contingency in my lot, however contrary to my enterprises and designs, however crushing to flesh and blood--that it is the very best for me, both with respect to this world and that which is to come!
Octavius Winslow
"It is God that justifies." Rom. 8:33
IT would appear that there are two links in this marvelous chain—the
purpose of God, and its final consummation; both so remote and
invisible, as to bring the mind to a calm, unquestioning belief in
certain doctrines of God's word, which may more properly belong to the
"deep things of God." But while the two extremes of this chain of truths
must for the present be left invisibly locked in God's hand; there are
certain intermediate and visible links, upon which if the perplexed and
inquiring reader lay hold, he shall be saved, though all the rest
remains wrapped in the profoundest mystery—like its Divine Author,
dwelling in lone and unapproachable grandeur. It is not essential to our
salvation that we lift the veil of that awful mystery, and penetrate the
depths of a past predestination, and a future glory; but it is essential
to our salvation that we are called of God, and that by God we are
justified. We may arrive at heaven without fathoming the awful profound
of the one extreme, and with but twilight views of the magnificence
spreading over all the other; but we cannot get to heaven without the
Spirit's grace and Christ's righteousness. Grasp in faith, and receive
into your heart, these two central and essential truths, and they will
by and by lift you into a sunnier region, where all the rest will stand
forth, clear and transparent, bathed in the noontide splendor of
heaven's own glory.
"It is God that justifies." We believe that by many this cardinal
doctrine of God's justification is but imperfectly understood, and but
indistinctly seen in its results. The lofty position of security in
which it places the believer, the liberty, peace, and hope, into which
it brings him, are points dim and obscure in the spiritual vision of
many. We also believe that much of the weak, sickly Christianity of
numbers is traceable, in a great measure, to the crude and gloomy
conceptions they form of God, produced by not clearly seeing the
interest which he felt, and the initiatory part which he took, in the
great matter of our justification. Let our faith but trace the act of
our justification to God, and we have placed ourselves upon a
vantage-ground of the boldest defiance to all our enemies. Survey the
truth in this light for a moment. Against whom have you sinned? Adopting
David's confession, you exclaim, "Against You, You only, have I sinned."
Having sinned against God, from God, then, you looked for the
condemnation. You had violated His law, and from the lips of the
Lawgiver you waited the sentence. When, lo! He declares Himself on your
side. Descending as from His tribunal, He comes and stands in your
place, and avows Himself your Justifier. "It is God that justifies."
Upon you, a culprit, trembling at His bar, He throws His own
righteousness, "which is unto all, and upon all those who believe;" and
from that moment you are justified. Shall we, then, be indifferent to
the part the Father took in the great question of our acceptance? Shall
we cherish the shy and suspicious thought of God, as if He looked coldly
at us, and felt that in pleading for His mercy, we were infringing upon
His righteousness? Oh, no! Away with such thoughts of God! He it is who
pronounces the act of your acquittal, and from His lips sound the
glorious words, "No condemnation!" "It is God that justifies."
Communion With God, What It Is
James Meikle
Communion with God is an expression often in my mouth—but which sinks no further. I may know the word—but neither its blessed import, nor glorious extent. My prayers and practice jar; for while I beg it with my lips, I study not to attain it in my life. Ah! what a stranger am I to that which I would gladly have flattered myself that I am acquainted with! Alas what do I know of walking with God—of that joy which is found in believing? What do I know of the lasting and abiding impressions of his inexpressible love! What do I know of that transforming vision, and assimilating sight which is enjoyed below, whereby the soul is changed into God's image, from glory to glory! What do I know of dwelling in his presence all the day long! What of pouring out my soul in prayer to him! and wrestling with him for the blessing! How seldom is my meditation of him sweet!
Union with God is the basis of communion with him; for how can those walk or talk together who are not agreed? O then be joined to the Lord, and become one spirit! But, my soul, mistake not communion, for it lies not in a flaming profession, nor in the performance of Christian duties, as reading, hearing, praying, praising, though enjoyed in these; nor in the greatest abilities, and brightest talents; nor in lofty expressions in prayer; nor in the knowledge of divine things.
What is it then? It is just a dwelling in and with God, and God dwelling in and with the soul. It is God's love going out on the soul, and the soul in love going out on God. God dwells in the duty with supplies of grace, in the meditation as its subject, and in the heart as a portion and chief good. And the soul dwells in God as her ultimate end, dilates in his fullness, delights in his bliss. The soul that is blessed with such a communion, favored with such a fellowship, knows no other object for her love; no other subject for her thoughts; no other employment for her faculties; no higher degree of happiness for her attainment, than consummate communion; no other beloved for her affection; and no other end for her existence. Nor is th